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 Posted: Sun Sep 24, 2017 6:46 pm
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"THIS IS SO GROSS!!!"
Phayton's words echoed off the caldera wall that closed off one side of the Feeding Grounds. As a Candidate, one was the lowest of the low, and typically got stuck with the worst chores around the Weyr. Today's chore was cleaning up the Feeding Grounds of carcasses left over from dragonets gorging themselves as they learned how to hunt. It could have been worse, but not by much.
With a groan, Phayton looked at his compatriots, a red-haired young man named Rasthell, a blond named Vennodren, and dark-haired Henwas. They didn't seem to be having any better time of it. Phayton himself was covered with blood and gore up to his elbows and bitten to death by carrion-hungry insects; the stench of the dead herdbeasts was overwhelming. He almost would have rather been tasked with mucking out the latrines. Almost.
He tried to blow a stray bit of hair out of his eyes (at least he'd had the good sense to tie it all back in a ponytail, though there were still outliers that would not be constrained). Grumbling, he wiped one hand as clean as he could on his pants and brushed the errant strand away, knowing he'd ended up with blood smears on his face. There was no escaping it, really.
"Honestly, how much more gross could this be?" he asked his co-workers.
Returning to his work, he bent down and plunged his hand into a pile of rotten guts. "Ewwwww…"
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Masterharper Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Sep 27, 2017 5:13 pm
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Rasthell wasn't particularly bothered by the dead animals, though he would be the first to admit it was one of his least favorite chores. He much preferred mucking and cleaning out the stables, or brushing down and bathing the runners. While he'd been pleased to find himself on duty under the Beastcrafters this sevenday, he hadn't thought they'd be directed to such an unpleasant task.
Thankfully, he was mostly immune to the ick factor. Having grown up around runners and herdbeasts all his life, he was used to having to take care of accidents, and being elbow deep in birthing liquids every spring. While it wasn't a fun task, it would save the Weyr a foul stench to get it cleaned up before it began to rot.
So, he listened quietly to the banter of his assigned Candidates. Thankfully, none of them seemed overly squeamish, which would make getting the work done faster. While he recognized some of them by face, the Candidates were in large enough groups it was perfectly possible to live Turns with complete strangers. It seemed that today was one such case. "I never really thought the weyrlings would be so messy," he confided as he shoveled up some ugly looking half-chewed organs. "I guess I always thought they'd just naturally know how to eat and properly hunt, or at least do so more delicately.'" He gave a snort, knowing well how foolish he'd been upon arrival to the Weyr.
"Eeven some adults leave a mess behind." He'd watched full-grown adults play with their food, and in some cases, decide to leave the remains for the flits.
A few hungry cheeps did have him glance up from his work. There were more than a few firelizard fairs were hanging out hopefully on the nearby fences. He couldn't tell if they were bonded or wild ones, but some of the braver ones would occasionally wing over to grab a mouthful of leftovers, or chase a few of the bugs. "Anyone else feeling a bit oddly hungry?" He asked, glancing back at the sets of whirling eyes. While he had no flit himself, the little critters were still able to share their feelings.. and with so many watching the group, he had a suspicion the desire might be coming from their guests.
There was absolutely nothing appealing about the mess they were working in.
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Posted: Wed Sep 27, 2017 7:05 pm
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The fact he was assigned chores, even though that was a normal thing to happen and he was use to it, irked Henwas. If he was with his normal group, he would have perched himself on the fence and just watched as his 'friends' did the work for him. That wasn't going to happen on this day, which meant that he'd have to get dirty.
The blood and gore of what they were doing didn't bother him, the smell wasn't nice but it was better then if they had to clean out the latrines, a chore he would find a way to put off on someone else for sure. No while this chore wasn't the highest on Henwas' list of things he liked to have to do, it was better then the alternatives. He just wished there was a bit better company then who he was currently with.
He made it a habit of his to know who many of the people in the weyr were, especially the candidate's since they were his peers. He may not ever have talked to them before, but he knew of them and at times even knew some of their personalities as well. These three were not the normal people Henwas would have been hanging around with, too bubbly for his taste.
Shoveling some of the offal into the receptacle they were meant for, he listened to what was being said. They received a roll of his eyes at first, until feelings of hunger were brought up. He glanced over at the firelizards that were staring at them with their whirling eyes and a soft smirk formed on his lips. "Well, I hope you've had your fill then. No telling if you might end up succumbing to the temptation." Ok....That was lamer then he wanted it to sound but he raised a hand and, seeming to do it unknowingly, wiped some blood he had 'accidentally' gotten onto his hand over his lips, creating a smear across the lower part of his face.
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Posted: Tue Oct 03, 2017 11:55 am
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Phayton cast a miserable glance at the three Candidates as he continued to plop guts, gore and bone into his wheelbarrow. How did Venn get into his head like that, talking about the worse chore of latrine duty? Must have been a Candidate thing. Some kind of mind-link in misery or something. "Yeah, well, I'm glad I'm with you guys. I don't wanna be scooping that mess with little kids." He remembered his own time as a young Candidate, when the boredom of cleaning latrines ended up in poop fights or poop masterpieces being painted on the walls.
He followed Rasthell's gaze to the mob of firelizards cheeping on the fence. There were a lot of them, too, their little eyes whirling with anticipation. "Come to think of it, I am a little hungry…" Not that he found any of this at all appetizing -- but there were enough firelizards and they were all thinking the same thing that the sensation couldn't help but be transmitted to the Candidates.
Then Henwas made a remark and very deliberately (it seemed to Phayton) smeared blood over the lower part of his face. Henwas was an age-mate of his, but he couldn't be more different from the other boy; for one thing, Henwas had a twin brother, who was also a bit of a bully. Phayton wasn't sure he liked Henwas very much, but they were all in this together, so what could you do?
"Warpaint?" he grinned at Henwas.
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Masterharper Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Oct 10, 2017 6:41 am
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"Er...I'm good, thanks. I don't care what those flits want, this slop looks utterly disgusting." Rasthell raised his brows when Henwas smeared the blood over his face. He couldn't tell if it had been done purposefully or not, but it was more than a little gross. He didn't know whether these herdbeasts were of solid quality, or what internal parasites they might, or might not have. He grew up with runners and herdstock, and while getting dirty was part and parcel of the job, to see it all over the others face was, quite frankly, disgusting.
"Need a towel? Looks like you've got a bit of something there." He didn't care whether the other was going to clean it up or not, but he figured he'd offer. He certainly wouldn't want to walk around with animal blood on his face -- especially not in the heat, or with hungry firelizards circling.
"At risk of sounding mundane, where are all y'all from?" He honestly didn't know any of them well, though their faces were more or less recognized. The Candidates might all be bunked together, but with the constant rotation of lessons, chores, and everyone having their own little group, one could live Turns growing up next to their fellow Candidates, and still not know more than their name.
A little bold blue and little green flit swooped in, making a grab for some of the entrails. "Hey now, that ain't polite," He waved his shovel at the pair, which spooked the creatures away. The little flits did chitter and hiss at the group, before resettling on the nearest fence post. "Always nice to know our work's appreciated, eh?" He gave a little snort, and continued shoveling.
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