Nose for a Candidate

Participants:

L'han.jpg Rocio.jpg

Date: 7/22/10
Location: Landing: Main Square
Synopsis: A glowtender comes to sniff out answers to a problem. A green sniffs her out for a candidate.
Rating: PG-13
Logger: L'han


The sultry warmth of the southern continent is its own motivator: If you travel, travel early, travel late; do not travel during the heat of the day. So it is over the last few hundred dragonlengths that both the weary runner and the weary rider have welcomed the sight of regular geometry - the lines of buidings and shelters and boxes and conveyances, even as they resolve out of the hazy dust of distance. Once the runner has sauntered to a halt outside of a shaded patio, and his short rider slipped off, does he finally shake his head and sneeze, before dipping his muzzle into one of the several water barrels situated nearby. The woman, for it is likely a woman who wears a veil, settles into an involuntary stretch, before she waits for the beast to satisfy its thirst. On second thought, she'll take a glance around and unloop most of the cloth that forms the veil, and dip the ends, also, in the water, before she reloops the configuration back over her shoulders and around her features.

Indeed that is the case, unless you happen to be a dragonrider that can bounce from Weyr to Hold and back again almost instantly. High above Landing, the air is suddenly displaced by a green dragon which lets out a bugle to announce it's arrival. She circles around to lose her altitude and finally comes to a landing stop in the street. The green lowers her neck to the ground to allow her rider to slide off, the greenrider L'han. The young man glances over Landing with some interest as here it's where the AIVAS computer is kept. "Well girl, here we are… and likely to be in the shit of things if anyone shows up to raise shard." A bugle of likely agreement is given from the dragon as the rider is approached by a woman, the two conversing in a low voice before he is handed a paper sheet and the woman calls out, "Out in the streets, a rider from Eastern has come." Young men and women come out of the buildings into the street at the call as L'han watches them from next to his green.

Ok. They're all crazy. First, Rocio, in her now-mostly-wet veil, has to turn and stare at the Town Crier. Then she checks on the progress of the runner, before looking back over at the rider.

Then a thought strikes. Rocio looks at all the people in the street, and the buildings out of which they came. That one — the one which houses The Computer… They came out of that, as well, which might well afford Rocio a moment or two or three or more, to get in. Signed in. And if there happens to be empty and available terminals…

Her patience with the runner dies a gruesome death at the potential of getting more time on that computer. Rocio tugs the gelding away from the water and over to an established post, and loops the reins around it, before she'll begin an oh-so-casual saunter /behind/ the others, toward that particular building. But, in order to blend in, she'll also attend the arrival of the rider, of his green.

L'han looks over the gathered people and walks forward as his dragon watches from behind him, her eyes picking over the group as he says, "Good morning, my name is L'han, rider of Escaeth. I'm Landing's new watchrider at the order of Senior Weyrwoman Alara. But before I take up the duty I have been sent here for, there is another matter which I was asked to attend to. When I call your name, please step forward and make your presence known." He glances down at the list and calls the first name, a young woman steps forward as both rider and dragon look her over, the dragon quickly losing interest as she gets up and moves over towards the edge of the crowd nearest Rocio. L'han smiles at the girl that came forward as he calls out another name, a boy this time. And as each is called forward to be examined by rider and dragon, no indication of anything particular is made, by either dragon or rider.

No doubt the whispers are starting, and the speculation, and Rocio veers nearer one group of females who both watch, with rapt interest. A beastcrafter watches the dragon, and comes up with the cryptic murmur, to his buddy, "Eggs soon on Eastern's sands." Nothing else, but the other, after a moment, mentions something about Garmin being truly unsuited for the Craft. Maybe… Maybe.

Rocio passes one door, and one building and there's an empty spot between her current location and her goal. Then she stops. Turns and rolls up on tiptoe for a split second of no real progress. Then forward, so she can get a better idea of the procedings. If this is what the Beastcrafters suggest, than this ritual may be more interesting than a few more minutes on The Computer. Maybe.

The calling of names pauses for a moment, as L'han gratefully takes a proffered pen to write some notations, although he's doing it all enmass, causing some groans from those already called as some were clearly hoping to know if they were going to be called or not. "Cryptic one this rider…" Murmers come from the crowd, but as the rider writes some notes about those called, the dragon continues to examine the crowd before she lowers her head to sniff the air as she heads more pointedly for Rocio's corner… something's got the dragon's attention and it leads her directly to Rocio as she sniffs the woman's clothing… maybe she smells something delicious on her?

Rocio stalls, from the jump from Point A to Point B, across that gap of no-people to more people, that would have led her to the building with the computer. "Ma'am." Rocio addresses the dragon. "I live at the Weyr. Smell like… Whatever they wash the clothes in, altogether. I'm sure the… Odors mingle." But her heart races. And she cannot hear over the murmurs of voices that no doubt question her odd attire, anything but her own voice.

Escaeth is rather persistent, but she finally lifts her head, looking over at L'han, who comes on over, getting the murmering going on rather good as he looks at Rocio and asks, "Excuse me… Escaeth says you told her you work at the Weyr? Forgive me, but I don't think we've ever met there." He gives her an appraising look much like the others he glanced at and glances back at the dragon, finding her gaze meeting his as he looks back to Rocio, waiting on her answer.

"Rocio. I tend the glows. Come out at night, most of the time, sir." The woman's alto enunciates each word, though with the slow drawl of Crom idenitfying her origins. "I came to use the computer. There's a … Ah…" Most folks are direly uninterested in the details of growing the fungi needed to furnish the illumination of the glows, beyond the 'You feed /what/ to them' conversation. "There's some information that I didn't print out last time," she gestures to the computer room, "Needed to get that, sir. But yes. She likely recognizes the scent of… The others at the Weyr… Since the laundry is done communially."

L'han nods to Rocio and he replies, "Well if you live and work at Eastern, this'll make things a little simpler… go see the Weyrwomen when you get back, Alara if possible, however Randi will do if the Senior Weyrwoman is busy." He turns to go back to the crowd, but looks back over his shoulder, "Have their dragons bespeak Escaeth as to why if they don't believe this…" He quickly fishes a new piece of paper and quickly writes a note, folding it up good and offering it to Rocio.

Mute, she'll listen and accept the paper, but she will also open it and read it, before saying anything else. Once the words have registered, Rocio looks up at the man. Then the dragon. Especially the dragon. The rest of the people, coginizent that something has happened, still are not /there/, for Rocio. Her attention on these two is complete. And only two words, softly spoken, mostly addressed to the dragon, "Thank you."

The green lets out a soft bugle in response to the woman's thank you and L'han smiles at her, "Good luck, Rocio." He glances at the list again, as the dragon starts away to rest some ways away and he looks back to the crowd, "Thank you very much. Please feel free to return to your duties. Those chosen to go to Eastern will know within a sevenday." He turns to head towards his dragon, the woman from earlier approaching him as he walks away and they talk as he folds the list, putting it away.

The woman's note is re-read, and re-read again, then folded carefully and secured somewhere within the folds of cloth. Precious that, perhaps even more precious than whatever time she'd hoped to glean on the computer, learning about diseases of fungi. In fact, this day, Rocio's trip will be simply useless; instead of attending the possible causes or cures of the problems plaguing the organisms under her care, she is… Dreaming.



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