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|Peregrine Weyr > The Peregrine > Hopefully. Curiosity Doesn't Kill Candidates|
|Posted by: Darastrix Jan 7 2012, 03:44 AM|
| It was with a great feeling of trepidation that Zira set foot in the Peregrine. Especially after THAT DOOR JUST SLID OPEN BY ITSELF WHAT IS THIS I DON'T EVEN. Ahem. At least he'd only jumped a foot and not made any embarrassing yelp-y noises. Zak had been here before and not been worse for wear, and so had Missa, so clearly, the ship was not some dangerous scary thing. And if he was planning to stay at the weyr (which he was. After the Touching, even if he didn't Impress this time, how could he not?), he needed to get over this whole being jumpy over offworlder stuff.
Still, maybe he should have asked one of his friends to come with him. If nothing else, he'd be distracted by trying to make sure they didn't run off into some sort of trouble in this strange place. He bit his lip and peered uncertainly into a room that looked to be some sort of communal area. If it was a common room, it should be all right to go inside, right? Right.
He was sure he'd be able to get his feet to move from the hallway aaaany minute now. Maybe.
|Posted by: Tawny Jan 7 2012, 10:56 AM|
| Dima jogged to a halt by the entrance to the ship and paused for a few moments to catch his breath and have a drink of water from the bottle he carried. Although currently out of breath he was feeling good; a satisfying run had been had, a nice shower would soon be had, and after that maybe a nice cup of tea before work. There really was nowhere quite like Pern to be out and about; the air so clear and clean, the surroundings so natural and beautiful. Well, natural bar the artificially carved Weyr and the ship that gave it its name that was, but they were lovely in themselves if a touch incongruent.
Turning off his music player and pulling out the earphones he stepped inside, and almost stepped on the youth who hovered inside. "Well hello there! You alright?" he grinned after he got over the surprise of suddenly!person. "Can I maybe help you to find something?" he added, because the pale-haired young man did look a little bit lost.
|Posted by: Darastrix Jan 7 2012, 09:08 PM|
| That time, Zira did yelp. Suddenly!person, indeed. A very large, taller than his father person. He hoped he wasn't about to be in trouble. "I-I'm fine," he murmured, his face heating with embarrassment at being so obviously startled and getting caught. Not that he was really doing anything to be caught at, but still. At least the man didn't seem to be mad at finding him here; that was a plus.
"I just wanted to see inside," he explained. "I've only been here a few months, and all of...this..." he gestured vaguely to the ship around him. "It's kind of a lot to get used to."
|Posted by: Tawny Jan 7 2012, 09:52 PM|
| Kid seemed embarrassed, but why should he feel like that? Was he up to something, or did he just feel that merely being a bit curious wasn't enough reason to explore the ship? Well well, either way he doubted and real harm was meant and was happy to reach on the hand of friendship.
Dima's very very large hand extended towards the young man, along with another grin.
"Sorry I startled you! My name is Dimitry Konstantinovich Vladamirin, call me Dima, and I imagine it must be a lot to be getting used to! I can give you a bit of a tour of the non-restricted areas if you would like, I was shown plenty of kindness and a lot of things by your people when we first arrived, doesn't it make sense that I return the favour to you and show you around our ship? Quid pro quo, right?"
It wasn't what it had been in flight, sure, his own area of operation for example had been moved out of the ship in favour of the research labs but much remained intact, and certainly enough to interest a lad of Pern. How old was he? Mid teens, Dima guessed by his face, but he was tall for that so either he was just tall (oh he knew all about that), or he was older but just soft-faced. In any case, he couldn't be twenty yet, and as such Dima felt instinctively protective. It would be nice to show him the sights and make sure nothing bad happened to him; showers could wait.
|Posted by: Darastrix Jan 8 2012, 07:04 PM|
| Quid pro what? Zira wondered as he automatically reached out to shake Dima’s hand. If Dima hadn’t been so warm and friendly, he might have been seriously intimidated. It wasn’t often that he met anyone who was so, well, huge; even his hands, long-fingered as they were, seemed small in comparison. Now that he thought about it, hadn’t Dima been at the Touching, too? There had been so many people there, both Candidates and curious hopefuls, but really, how many men Dima’s size were there at Peregrine?
“Ah, I’m Zira,” he introduced himself. “It’s nice to meet you.” He was glad Dima didn’t mind short names; he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get the whole thing right without hearing it a few more times. “I’d appreciate a tour, if it’s not a bother. I was kind of regretting not asking one of my friends who’d been here before to come with me.”
|Posted by: Tawny Jan 9 2012, 07:04 AM|
| "Zira," Dima nodded, "Pleased to meet you too, and no problem; I have some time to kill!" He had a fair while before his shift yet and making a new friend sounded like a better use for his time than lazing around in his quarters doing not a lot, so long as he had time to shower - which he was sure he would - he was happy.
"Humm, so where shall we start?" Dima wondered aloud before deciding; "Maybe the rec rooms? They're probably one of the more interesting things to see, kept all of us entertained and mostly out of trouble on the long trip over! Is this way." With a gesture down the hall Dima set off at an amble, glancing over to make sure that Zira was following.
|Posted by: Darastrix Jan 9 2012, 07:05 PM|
| "Rec rooms?" Zira repeated as he walked after Dima, glancing from side to side as though he expected something to jump from the walls at any second. As far as he was concerned, it was a real possibility. If the doors could slide open on their own, who knew what the walls in this place did? ...best to not think about the floor.
Remembering his run-in with Alex, he decided it would be best to explain himself now before he reacted poorly to something and managed to upset or offend Dima. "And, um, I apologize in advance if I'm a little...jumpy. All this technology and such kind of makes me kind of nervous."
|Posted by: Tawny Jan 10 2012, 06:13 AM|
| What must it have been like for the people of this world to be descended upon by a civilization so far in advance of their own? Laser guns to people who still used bows and arrows, little tiny boxes that stored thousands on thousands of songs (many of them played on instruments powered by electricity), machines that could see inside your skull and so much more. "In your place I think I might be a bit nervous too," Dima said after a short pause. "Curious too though, as you are," he added with a grin.
"Rec rooms are recreation rooms," he explained as they reached the end of a hall and a pair of doors whispered open, giving access to a lift. "Ever been in a lift before?" Dima asked as he stepped inside. "Perfectly safe, but you feel it when it starts to move as a warning. Anyway, the rec rooms have all sorts of things in: pool tables, foosball, TV rooms, VR suites, the works."
|Posted by: Darastrix Jan 10 2012, 03:50 PM|
| "I've heard of some of those," Zira said as he eyed the lift with some trepidation. Been in one? Noooot exactly. So much for not thinking about the floor. "One of my friends likes to come here, mostly to listen to music. I think he's mentioned TV and VR before." He stepped gingerly onto the lift. Given the name, he thought it probably went up somehow. Really, though, what was wrong with stairs?
"Mine is sort of a...curiosity of necessity," he said, latching onto conversation as a distraction from the strangeness of the ship. Talking was so much easier when he had something else to be shy of. "Even if I don't Impress this time, I don't want to leave. And if I stay, all this will still be here, too, so I need to learn about it instead of being leery of everything all the time."
|Posted by: Dragonfire Jan 11 2012, 02:04 AM|
| "Hold the lift!" There was always someone who skittered along just as an elevator's doors were about to close, wasn't there? Except Lilith did not skitter. Ever. The request was delivered with a tone that suggested it was more of a command. "Hel's cold, withered tits, I will not be kept waiting for another-"
She swept through the doors of the lift, bootheels clicking sharply under her, and sharply turned to face the closing door in a flurry of whirling long coat, hair, and hat. Apparently the day called for a large hat - an elongated black oval, fringed in lace, perched at a dangerous angle and completely shading her right eye from view. For what it was worth, her left eye and the rest of her face looked rather stormy - probably the right eye was suffering from the same expression.
Said hat also necessitated that any interaction that she had with her fellow passengers was done with copious amounts of side-eyeing. But! Lilith was a master of the side-eye. Hence, after she pressed the button for the residential deck, she tilted her chin up, and archly appraised the other passengers with one of those sidelong looks. "A good day, doctor Dimitry," she pronounced after a moment, although her eyes were truly on the boy. Judging. A native, from the look of it, hmph. Perhaps one of the doctor's patients? Her fingers hovered over the keypad a moment longer; she could afford to extend a small courtesy for they having not taken the lift without her. "Are you to the sickbay?"
|Posted by: Tawny Jan 11 2012, 12:54 PM|
| The demanding tone was familiar enough; he didn't claim to know the woman well but everyone on the Peregeine who wasn't a total recluse at least knew everyone else by face and name at least. Well, he did, maybe he was over generalising. In any case, Dima reached over to press the 'door open' button and held it until the woman was inside not because her request had sounded like an order but rather because you'd have to be a right git to close the doors on somebody running for the lift.
"Lieutenant Lilith," he smiled despite her stormy demeanour, "I trust you are well today? We aren't, no, I am just giving Zira here a bit of a tour of the ship. Ah! Yes, I should introduce you. Zira this is First Lieutenant Lilith Jackson, she works in communications. Lilith, this is Zira... and I haven't yet got around to asking him what it is he does. Zira?"
|Posted by: Darastrix Jan 11 2012, 03:42 PM|
| Zira’s first impression of Lilith was that she was someone who could possibly be Someone In Charge of something and that she was in a Bad Mood. He took an unconscious step closer to Dima. After that, his thoughts became more focused on trying to figure out what in the world she was wearing. Coat, fine. That wasn’t really strange; he’d seen people in coats before. But what was on her head? He was pretty sure he’d never noticed anyone wearing something like that, offworlder or no. Maybe he could ask Dima about it once Lilith was gone?
And thank goodness Dima had the presence of mind to make introductions, because he very much did not. He was too distracted by Lilith to do much else than try to figure out a way to look at her without seeming as though he were staring. That would just be rude. But with that…thing on her head, he really wanted to stare. He missed the days when he was short enough to peer up at people from behind the safety of his bangs.
At least now he had a question to answer so he could stop trying to stare-but-not-stare at the hat. “I’m a Harper,” he said, gesturing to his shoulder knots. “Senior apprentice. And a Candidate.”
|Posted by: Dragonfire Jan 13 2012, 02:06 AM|
| Oh, Zira. Bad Mood was always very relative when talking about Lilith. "I would be better if they actually had some blasted decent tea around here, but evidently this is a thing too much to ask for," she griped, with an irritated toss of her head. "No darjeeling left at all! Can you believe it?"
The hydroponics team had best get around to cultivating some of the good stuff, and not just the stupid ceylons and assams! Oh, but of course, it wasn't a priority. She was getting tired of that word.
At Zira's admission of profession, she gave another flip of her hair, this one short and dismissive. Oh, like she knew what those stupid knots meant. Whoever came up with that system of badges needed a swift kick in the...
"Ooh, a candidate?" she asked - no, almost purred. "For the dragons, yes?" She actually sounded - and looked - pleased, smiling and everything! "I will never forgive them for turning me down; I would have loved to have a chance myself. I am not that old! Am I, Dimitry?" she appealed to the doctor.
|Posted by: Tawny Jan 13 2012, 05:18 AM|
| While he felt Lilith's ire a little excessive and silly he did understand the importance of Proper Tea, and as such offered her a sympathetic grin. "Do you drink Russian Caravan? I still have some stored away if you would like to come for tea sometime." Some cultures (and some people from cultures that should know better) just didn't understand Tea. People put it in a bag and dunked it in a single cup. People put milk in it! Still, he supposed somebody fond of the English style of tea would be horrified by the idea of adding jam so he should be more tolerant. "Forgive us Zira," Dima said, turning to the harper with a grin as the lift started to move, "Tea is... important to some of us." Not quite worth a huffy fit in his opinion, but when his tea ran out he would indeed be a very sad spaceman.
When the subject of age came up Dima chuckled, but resolved to tread carefully; one word out of line could get him a bollocking and he knew it very well. "Indeed not, and I would have guessed you were younger than you are anyway had I not seen your medical file.” Neither of the things he said were mere flattery; she was about ten years younger than his parents and he tended not to think of them as old, and she was indeed a very well preserved woman for her age in any case.
"They do say that dragons decide though, right Zira?" Dima said, cocking his head at the youth. "And our own Sh’ard Impressed a year past their age limit, so maybe you should try to get close to the front of the spectators and hope, eh Lilith? I'm taking the chance to stand for this clutch myself, seen as it's the last year I can." The age thing did seem weird in a way and yet in another... well, dragons died when their rider died; letting people who were, uh, of the more mature persuasion stand could result in some rather premature deaths for any dragons that chose them. You had to draw a line somewhere and it had been drawn at thirty; he understood it had once been twenty which did seem very young indeed.
"Do you have a Harping speciality yet Zira?" Dima asked then, aiming not to shut the native out of the conversation.
|Posted by: Darastrix Jan 15 2012, 02:28 PM|
| She was in a mood over tea? Goodness. Well, maybe it was s little understandable. He wasn't sure what darjeeling was, but given the context, Zira assumed it was an offworlder sort of tea. A taste of home, so to speak. Personally, he was partial to lavender tea, but he wasn't sure how herbal teas compared to what Lilith and Dima were talking about. At Dima's comment, he nodded. "I can sympathize," he murmured. "It's nice to have something familiar so far from home."
He was thankful Lilith hadn't asked him how old he thought she was. He didn't really think she was that young. "The dragons do decide," he agreed with a nod. "And they've surprised people before."
"I won't officially specialize until I walk the tables," he replied to Dima, "but I want to make diplomacy my focus. Maybe record-keeping, but I'm not as sure of my interest there."
|Posted by: Dragonfire Jan 18 2012, 05:23 PM|
| Oh, Zira. Be glad it was tea, and not something actually important, like, say, not being able to find her warm pair of gloves. That was an explosion waiting for another day - some cold day in winter to come. "Russian caravan? I do not think I am familiar with that one..." She considered this for a moment, lips pursed, before giving a breezy shrug. "I suppose I can try a cup. Surely it must be better than these dregs they pass off as tea in the kitchens now. Do let me know when you are to take some, hm?" Herbal teas were useless - and yes, that included you too, klah.
She listened almost demurely to their comments regarding the fascinating dragon-beasts, tilting her head slightly to one side to peek out from under the brim of her hat. "Hmmph. Perhaps I will arrange a spot on the lower benches, then, if I can. I would just like to talk to one, truthfully, but every time I have tried, none will say a word to me!" She frowned delicately (trying to avoid causing wrinkles, after all), lips thinning in displeasure. "Very rude. I have heard they do not always speak to people not their rider, but they could at least say hello."
And then, a switch of topic. "Why is that?" she demanded, turning to Zira. "Diplomats and judges being lumped in with musicians. I have never heard such a thing before we came here." Her tone implied that it was a very outlandish and silly way of doing things. Time to test those diplomacy skills, Zira!
|Posted by: Tawny Jan 25 2012, 10:25 AM|
| And thank goodness Lilith wasn't a diplomat! Dima repressed a rueful grin at her tones, grinning would get him nowhere except in the dog house. "I shall certainly do that Lilith," he nodded, "I hope you'll enjoy it." But maybe not too much because hey, he did want to make it last for himself.
With the topic of tea put to bed, perhaps it was time for him to apply a little bit of diplomacy himself. "So far as I understand it," he began carefully, "as well as entertainment, music is used here on Pern as the most common method of education? The teaching ballads, da? Even people in little, uh, cotholds who might not have read or been able to write could remember the songs that the travelling Harpers taught. I suppose this makes many harpers as much scholars as entertainers...." It did still seem a bit odd though, putting singing with teaching with diplomacy and art too, wasn't it? "It does sound like an extremely diverse craft though," he went on with a thoughtful frown as the lift made a cheerful 'ding' upon reaching its destination, "How is that handled in the halls Zira? Do you have to learn a bit of all of the disciplines first before you can graduate and choose what to pursue especially?"
|Posted by: Darastrix Feb 8 2012, 11:40 PM|
| ((OOC: Many apologies for dragging here, but I couldn't think of Pern posts for the life of me.))
Zira started slightly at the noise when the lift stopped; he hadn't been expecting that. "Ah, more or less," he said in reply to Dimitri as flicked his gaze around looking for the source of the noise. "Harpercraft might change in the future, but...." He trailed off for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. He was a little worried that Lilith might, oh, he didn't know, bite his head off for a poor answer or something. She seemed very opinionated.
Calm, he thought. Just keep your voice calm. She's not from Pern; she doesn't understand. Try to help her see. If she doesn't want the help, there's nothing you can do about it for now.
"For the longest time," he began, "we didn't have any means of printing at all, not until Avias was found during the Ninth Pass and we began to relearn some of the things that had been lost. Everything was done by hand, so it was too time-consuming to make texts for people to read, and things set to song are usually easier to remember than spoken words, so keeping the history alive and spreading it went to the Harpers. Since the Harper's role deals with keeping and sharing knowledge, they keep in contact with the Crafthall. Current events become history, so all the scattered Harpers listen and pay attention to what's happening in their hold or weyr, and they send word back to Harper Hall and the Masterharper. When it comes to what's happening now, what's happened in the past, and what precedents exist, Harpers have always been the best-informed of the crafters. And we deal with people more than the other crafters, aside from the Healers. But Healers usually see people when they're sick or hurt. Harpers are around people in the day to day--teaching, talking, listening.... The craft can prepare you for the role of a diplomat even if it's not your specialty."