Stolen Goods Job Offers

Participants:

Merendezen.jpg Max.jpg

Date: 2010.07.28
Location: Beast Caverns
Synopsis: Something's gone missing and between the two of them, Max and Zen deduce it must have been E'ro. Commencing Operation Runnerdung soon!
Rating: PG13 - some language (I think)
Logger: Max


Early morning shortly after breakfast and the stables are in an uproar. Something has apparently been stolen, or so the wide eyed ‘hands are muttering as they skitter about trying to keep out of the beast manager’s way. “If it’s not found by midday, then none of you are going –anywhere- until it is! And when I find who took it…” blustering and gesticulating, Max resembles a very close facsimile of a clown. A very pissed off, clown.

Being that it is after breakfast it is now chore time for the Candidates. Zen is, not reluctantly, heading into the Stables with hands tucked into his pockets and green eyes searching for someone. Max is given a look, briefly before a hand lifts in a lazy salute. "Been asked to come work in the Stables."

Hands to hips, face like thunder, glaring out toward the feeding pens, that’s Max. A new voice, one actually daring to talk to him rather than scuttle about whispering like a tunnelsnake? That draws the beast manager’s attention back around to find, Zen standing there. “Asked?” eyes drop to his shoulder and the white knot and the Ahah moment hits in, “Yes right, candidate chores, eh?” Cutting a critical look over the candidate, “Know anything about forging?”

Merendezen lifts a brow, "yes." The man eyes the other, looking him over before nodding once. "Right. Chores, fun things they are." Shoulders roll for a moment before hands are removed from his pockets. "I've dabbled in it some. What do you need done?"

Some of the ill humour drags off of Max, and he offers Merendezen what could be construed as the beginnings of grin, “I’m going to take that as sarcasm because anyone who sees chores as fun, needs the help of a mindhealer.” Back to the issue of the forge, a frown settles in briefly, “Waine’s off sick. Or so his mate over there seems fit to tell me. Charger threw a shoe and needs a new one fit. Don’t have the time to do it myself.”

Merendezen grins, faintly. "Yes. Sarcasm. They're not fun as much as they are things to take care of idle time and idle thoughts. I can assure you, I am in no need of a mindhealer." There's a brief pause to listen to the task, "give me the basics and I should be able to figure out what to do from there. Merendezen… Zen." The last bit is offered in an odd means of greeting since he'll be working for the man, he may as well give a name.

Lips twist in amusement and finally a chuckle breaks free, the last of the man’s ill humour being packed away. Offering his hand in greeting, “Max. Well met, Zen.” A short shake of head, “Naw, if you ain’t shod a runner before, Charger’s not the one to be trying it on. There’s fresh stock coming in for the pens in an hour’s time, you can help get them wrangled up and sent through.” Which gives the candidate some free time before having to actually do any –work-.

Merendezen takes the offered hand with a firm grip, "well met. I won't try it then, sounding as Charger's the more angry and stubborn of runner's then." A grin is offered before his hand drops away and he nods. "Sounds good. I can definitely help with wrangling. Did you lose something of value, though? Heard you yelling for others to find something."

That’ll draw a frown right back onto Max’s face, his hand lifting to rub at the back of his neck, “Aye, a satchel was taken out of my office during the night. Can’t seem to find it for looking and of course, no one knows a thing about it.” Irritated. Moving again, literally, he starts toward said office beckoning for Zen to follow, “May as take a load off until them beasts arrive.”

Merendezen looks thoughtful, shifting from where he stands to follow the other. "Well, unfortunate. Should find other means to lock your office? Or, pay some fellow a little extra more to be your guard." The man grins and shrugs, "might as well. Got a good while before they come and would rather not be sent off to do some of those kitchen chores again."

Just as they cross the threshold into the beast manager’s office, “I –sleep- in it! Whoever the sod was had the cheek to come in here while I was sleeping.” The room is simply laid out, desk and two chairs nearest the door, a mattress and a few personal items set in the farthest corner. Gesturing to one of the chairs, “Might look into the guard idea though,” shoulder lifting in a half shrug, almost sheepish, “It wasn’t anything expensive mind, just the satchel and a few things that were in it.” Now a crooked grin makes an appearance, “Do the kitchen chores, you get to figure where they hide the bubbly pies to cool.”

Merendezen lifts a single brow, "you sleep in the office and they decided they would just come and take something… As you slept. Either an idiot or someone who thinks he's extremely brave." There's a chuckle as he moves to take the seat gestured to, leaning back. "Probably one of the safer bets, a guard while you sleep." Green eyes find the other man, thoughtful for a moment. "A man's things are always valuable, even if they may not seem that way to anyone else." Shoulders roll in a shrug before he shakes his head. "They make me do dishes and that damn cook doesn't stop staring at me."

Rolling his eyes, Max nods, “I know, right? Unless someone’s finding fit to play a prank,” a rather more helpless shrug this time, “It just pisses me off no end. But when I find them, they can have the joy of dragging carcasses off of the feeding grounds for the next six months.” Approving is the look sent Zen’s way for his comment over possessions. A chuckle sounds out, “She at least easy on the eyes?” the cook that keeps staring the candidate down.

"Not a very well thought out prank, unless it's hanging from the ceiling." There's a glance upwards to check, thoughtful. "Fitting punishments. I've seen how nasty the dragons can get when eating." There's a chuckle before he shakes his head. "Nah, not even close. She's…" A brief gesture to the face, "quite unfavorable to look at. She just likes trying to make sure I don't slack, or something. The work gets done at least. Crazy woman she is."

Leaning back in his chair, Max’s expression crumples into a discomforted expression, “And not funny either.” Which a prank should be in some way. “There was…a personal item in there, which…” he’d really rather no one else came across, “I’d rather didn’t fall into the wrong hands.” And that’s about as much as he’ll say on that particular topic, the one of the unfavourable looking cook of more interest. Or so he seems to demonstrate, “That bad, huh?” grinning, “Must be all the heat off the ovens. Haven’t yet met a cook or baker that wasn’t a little squirly in the head.” Catching onto something said by Zen, “So you duck and dive, huh?” assuming by the slacking comments.

"Pranks aren't meant to be funny to the person it's done on." Zen muses, "he probably doesn't like you for some reason." He nods his head about the item, but does not question. "I'm sure it'll turn up, hopefully without being too defiled." His arms fold and he shrugs, "pretty bad. It must be, shardin' hot in that kitchen and it's no wonder so many of 'em act so… Crazy." He shakes his head. "Not entirely, just when it comes to the kitchen chores. Too easy and entirely boring and it's hard to focus my attention on something so… Meaningless. I prefer productivity, using my hands."

Nodding his agreement, “True that,” and then eyes narrow when Zen uses the male descriptor for the thief and the beast manager’s face goes dark for some or other reason, “Can’t say I like him much myself.” Apparently having decided he knows exactly who the offender might be. Brooding somewhat, Max sits in silence as the candidate outlines the monotony of kitchen work, “Reckon somewhere like this would do you better?” The beast caverns.

"Figured out who it was?" Zen questions, chuckling. "I actually have a candidate in mind, but, I'm not sure how he'd know you…" His brows lift before he leans further back in the seat, lifting the front two legs up. "Yeah. Was able to trade this, actually. Prefer this or helping with digging the lake or helping the Smiths, much better suited for that than the washing-type chores."

“Sharding bronzerider,” is all Max will give on who he thinks it might be. And then brows lifting before a narrow eyed look is being sent over to Zen, “Someone traded with you to come down here?” open prompt for a name given in the upward lilt of his tone. “Tell you what, you don’t find your dragon out there on the sands, you got a job here. That is if you want it?”

"Ah! Yes, that's him… Odd man, told me I had charmed I woman that I thought I had very well offended. Couldn't tell if he was serious." Zen chuckles before there's a nod, "yeah. Apparently, it was traded down a line, not sure who had it first… Some skittish kid, Jadon said he got it from someone else but didn't quite like it after the trade was done. Doesn't like hard work that boy, skinniest boy I've ever seen." There's a thoughtful pause, considering the offer before he nods. "Sounds good. Been working as one of the fix-it men, but something permanent is appreciated."

Lips thin and dark eyes glitter with a plan unfolding, “Swaggering arrogant git with a head the size of Faranth’s arse?” lifting a finger to circle around his eye, “Got a nice shiner a seven or so back, aye?” smirk. Yeah, he definitely thinks he knows who it is now. Another eyeroll when the skinny Jadon is mentioned, “Kid didn’t last longer than an hour before he was crying about his arms hurting. Rather have you here,” not that he’s seen Zen at work yet. As to the work itself, “Hard work, early mornings but compensation with an earlier knock-off time than most,” shrugging, “I like it.” Which means it can’t be all that bad.

Merendezen laughs, "kind've. Told me about how he oiled the stairs back where he was from. Sounds like the man who would hold a grudge…" Brows lift, "you two got in a fight then? I imagine he could likely be the one who snuck in and took your things. Don't know what he'd do with them…" Laughter continues about the mention of Jadon, "weakest boy I've seen, I swear. Much rather do the dainty work with the laundry and in the kitchen than do proper work. He's a whiner and a crier. He's lucky I hate the kitchens as much as I do. I'm a hard worker when I like the task, should do well for you here." He nods, thoughtful. "Sounds better than what I was doing before. Early mornings are fine with me, prefer to be up earlier, anyway."

Max snorts, “If anyone has the right to hold a grudge it’s me. Sharding big mouthed….” Cue the very colourful expletives here before he’s sending a dark smirk Zen’s way, “shooting his mouth off, so I shut it for him.” Conveniently glossing over the damage done to his person when about a half dozen riders consequently jumped him. But moving on now. The candidate’s comments over poor Jaden, however, seem to lighten the beast manager’s mood and he’s soon chuckling along. Fishing in his pocket he sets a mark bit on the desk, “That says he gets green,” laying the bet out on the dandy of a lad. As to the topic of the job offered, there comes an approving nod, “Almost hope you don’t find a dragon out there. Could do with a hard worker, someone I can rely on.”

"Talked about your woman?" Zen questions, lifting a brow. "The man seems to have a knack at pissing people off, at least. Ahni didn't look like she liked him too much when we were all down in the Lower Caverns… Though she did try to cheer him up." He shrugs, seemingly confused about the woman before a brow lifts, "bet he does. Shells, fits him better than anything. Haven't heard much of the betting pools, myself. Should keep an ear open on it, though." He chuckles, "doubt I'd Impress. Really don't know what any dragon would see in a man like me. Don't even know what the dragon saw, or smelt, when he searched me."

Loathe to admit which ‘woman’, Max grunts out, “Something like that.” However, something said by Zen draws a glower from the beast manager, followed by a darkly spoken instruction, “You keep him away from her!” First his mother then Ahni? He’d die first. Despite the disgruntled look he now wears a brow goes up, “Smelt good? You have bubbly pies in your pockets or something?”

Merendezen mms, "well, never a good thing. Good on you for defending her." The Candidate decides, allowing his seat to drop forward before both brows lift, not in surprise but in question. "Right… Well, can't help it if she's offering to help him out. Not going to stop a woman from doing what she wants. Not my place, anyway. Sweet girl… If he does anything offensive to her, I'll do something about it. If she walks on her own to it, can't do a thing." Then, he shakes his head. "No. He just said I smelt right, whatever that means."

Well kick a man when he’s down why don’t you? Of course, Zen has no way of knowing that currently all he’s doing is adding to Max’s murderous mood for the satchel being gone, rather than in any way helping. “You talk too much,” is finally all he can come up with in response sounding more huffy than threatening. Silence for a spell and then he turns to the more comfortable topic of dragons and such, “Ain’t never heard that before and I grew up in High Reaches. You bathe frequently,” leaning forward as if to sniff the air about the candidate, “Cause that could be it you know. Dragons are…all a little strange.” In his opinion anyways.

Merendezen lifts a brow, chuckling. "Never heard a man say that to me before." He does, however, shut his trap after that, remaining in silence until the beastmaster speaks again and he shrugs. "Was in 'Reaches some, too. Never heard of a dragon deciding on a Candidate because of smell. I do bathe regularly." Because no woman really enjoys the smell of stinky sweat. "Might be he likes the smell of clean. But with you there, dragons are strange." Says the man who is waiting for the possibility of being bonded with said strange dragons.

Hmph. His expression says it because Max isn’t saying anything right now. He’s sulking see? In a very manly way of course. “Sharding bronzerider,” he mutters again, perhaps as finality to that whole line of conversation that had gone before. With that done, dark eyes spark interest for what Zen says of having spent time in the Reaches, “Weyr or hold?” he asks looking harder at the candidate as if trying to place having seen him before. As to the topic of bathing he can’t help the chuckle that comes through or the smirk that precedes, “Aye, start off clean, and work one up.” And he sounds entirely too devilish for that to have been a reference to work. “I’d say I wish you the best out there, but as I said, I need a new foreman.” There’s a title that goes with the work too.

Merendezen watches the other, but offers nothing in his thoughts, or stating anything about the sulking. He knows better, at least, only offering a nod for the mention of the bronzerider. "Both. Did a fair bit of traveling between both areas. Was a bit of a troublemaker in the Weyr." He admits with an easy grin. He chuckles, turning a curious look at the other. "Indeed." The reference is caught and his grin simply grows. "We'll see what happens. I am looking forward to the work with you."

Max fits a contemplative look onto Zen for a few moments and then returns the grin with one of his own, “Reaches has a knack for troublemakers,” he certainly not being one of them, “Round how long ago were you last up the way of the Weyr?” Shrugging, “Leron’ll tell I’m a slave driver but if the works get done, when it needs to get done, then we’re all good.”

Merendezen chuckles, "indeed. A teenage boy with nothing better to do." He considers, thoughtful. "Was up at the Weyr until I came here recently…. Spent a good half of a Turn between Weyr and Hold." There's a shrug, "I'll get the work done, don't care for someone breathing down my neck constantly so, it'll get done. I don't slack on good work that interests me."

Just then a shout goes out that the herdbeast are on approach to the Weyr. Max stands to his feet, takes up his hat and reaching for another, holds it out to Zen, "That's us." Wrangling time! Moving toward the door and out down the aisle, simply expecting the candidate to keep up he grins crookedly, "Must have just missed you. Left the Weyr for Tillek around two turns back." Still walking and talking, "You ride, aye?"

Merendezen stands at the shout, taking the offered hat and settling it upon his head. He follows, keeping pace easily before returning the grin. "Nah, I think I might've seen you." But, there's no elaboration in that. "I ride, yeah. Not that hard to forget."

Nearing the end of the tunnel where two runners are being held in readiness with another four already mounted and waiting, Max tips a curious look Zen’s way, “Might’ve seen me, eh? You mean head down in a keg of beer?” Chuckling and then taking up the reins of a runner and swinging onto its back, “Good to hear or else you were in for one very quick lesson.” Heels to sides, runner and rider are clearing the entrance and out into the bowl.

"Nah, I remember faces. I'm sure I've seen yours. Wasn't much of the socializing type when I first got to the Weyr." He laughs, "I'm a quick learner, either way." A runner is selected and he swings up relatively quickly and moves to follow the other out. The newest beasts are wrangled and subdued and brought in as needed. Zen does linger after the chore is done, briefly, before heading off to find lunch and leaving Max to himself.



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