Hidden Dragon

Protected from the winds outside, this high-ceilinged grotto offers an escape from the cacophony beyond, while letting the weyrfolk keep goings on outside in sight. Its walls are smooth, a perfect canvas for the graffiti that decorates it, and it boasts no furniture but for the gently undulating floor and a scattering of fuzzy sandfilled sacks upon which to sit. It is a favorite 'secret' haunt of young weyrfolk seeking a private quiet escape, klah and snacks in hand.

Iktyziel is one of those intrepid weyrbrats who's always poking his nose into the dark and lonely corners of the Fort Weyr. Today is no exception, with an early release from chores and bright sunshine up above, the lad is walking across the bowl, and not-quite sneaking past the weyrling area. He's likely recruited a fellow candidate or three, though how many have managed to slip out of chores or otherwise have a free afternoon remains to be seen. In any case, the red-headed boy is carrying a bucket of thick black liquid, with several brushes soaking in it. It's to one of the few clear areas of the wall he goes, grinning a bit at this or that section of graffiti. Setting the bucket down, he steps back, rolling up his sleeves and regarding that wall with a rather thoughtful expression.

Kiaran grew up in the weyr as well. And Kiaran had reason to learn as many little hidey holes as possible. After all, he wasn't the most popular of kids. Or the one that is likely to get invited along to graffiti a section of wall. No, he's looking for a hidey hole right now. The candidate is all bundled up for the cold, but he's using one hand to try to wipe away a tear before it freezes on his cheek.

Iktyziel ponders the wall. The wall, alas, is inanimate, and it's too much to hope that it ponders back. Indeed, the worn surface has cracks and the faded remnants of past weyrbrat masterpieces, though the current section is rather worse off than most. Still, Iktyziel seems to have chosen that bit for his little project. He's turning to one of the sand-filled sacks to drop a drab-looking scarf and hat when he spots Kiaran, and there's a somewhat awkward pause, Ikt's brows sneaking upward for a moment when he spies the other candidate. It's only a second before a faint nod is offered in greeting, and a cheerful-enough, "Oh, hey." The items of clothing are deposited on the sack, left to drape as Ikty tugs his jacket a little more snugly.

Kiaran straightens up as he spots Ikty. "Oh, uh, I didn't think anyone would be back here." Kiaran states, tugging his jacket close about him. There are a few more sniffs, but no more tears. The candidate seems to be trying to hide the fact there ever were any, despite the red around his eyes. "What're you doing?"

Iktyziel shrugs a bit, tilting his head to indicate the bucket and the wall, "I've been meaning to come out here for awhile, but haven't had the time, since getting searched. I was going to fix up one of the pictures I'd done when I was littler," waving vaguely at one section of wall that appears to be a big blue smudge, "..but it's been covered already." He doesn't sound bothered by this, instead half-turning to the clearer section he'd been eyeing, "So, I'm going to make a new one. Maybe a big dragon or something.." There's another semi-awkward pause, the lad rubbing the back of his neck at the other's sniffing there. He hesitates a moment before asking, "..You alright?" Observant Ikty is observant. Kind of.

Kiaran stares over at it. "That looks like a blob." He notes before eyeing the clear section. "A dragon would be fitting. Or maybe pictures of all the many chores we have to do." That even seems to cheer him up a bit before Kiaran looks over and hesitates. "I'm fine." He says by wrote before adding, "My mother made me have lunch with her."

Iktyziel has to grin a bit, "Yeah. It /used/ to be a big blue dragon. Quap and I were trying to draw Y'ziel's blue, back when he was a weyrling." Alas, with all the weyrbrats in Fort, having something like that remain untouched, especially out here, would have been very unlikely. There's a nose-wrinkle for the suggestion of painting their chores, Ikt glancing back at the wall, "Most of those are.. kind of boring. I know someone drew a big latrine on here once. It was pretty funny." Hazel eyes flick from one graffiti'd image to another, though apparently he fails to find said painting, "I guess.. it's been drawn over or washed away by now." Another shrug, and the lad is moving forward to the bucket, asking Kiaran over his shoulder, "Want to help? I'll bet we could do a decent dragon." He pauses once again, giving the other candidate a brief headtilt, "..Your mother?" curious perhaps, despite himself.

Kiaran moves forward. It appears that graffiti isn't something too worrying to him, at least here. "I'll help. I'm actually not bad at drawing." Kiaran states taking one of those paintbrushes in hand before sighing. "Kedia. She's a greenrider. I disappoint her by breathing."

Iktyziel picks up a paint brush with a long handle, and wanders over to the wall, seemingly uncaring for the little drip-drip of black paint that splatters on the floor as he moves. "Oh?" he glances at Kiaran briefly, "Want to start with the head, then?" Ikt scoots over a little, raising the paint brush to the wall, "I could do the wings." He makes a long, sweeping arc across a large section of wall, the line curving as it goes. There is a quieter, "Oh," at Kiaran's explanation there, and another glance at his fellow candidate, "Maybe you'll impress? I'll bet she'd be happy for that?" Optimism, Ikty has it. "My father's a bluerider. Ty'ziel," pausing with a bit of a grin, "He's to blame him for all the weird names in my family, but I haven't talked to him in half a turn, at least," the lad moving to make more lines along the wall, the pinion's of some imaginary dragon's outstretched wing.

Kiaran moves up towards where the head should be. Perfectionism and obsession with details can be good every once in awhile. Like now. His brush strokes are small and careful, creating neat lines. "I don't see my dad much either." Kiaran admits. "But mother feels the need to make herself known. I keep hoping one day I'll just disappoint her enough that she'll stop talking to me altogether." He pauses a moment to dip just the very tip of the brush back in the paint. "I don't think I'll impress. I bet you will, though."

Iktyziel continues with the lines, hand steady despite the cold. He's far less careful than Kiaran, though, paint dripping to the ground as he leans down to dip his brush again. "That's pretty good," the redhead comments, eyebrows lifting at the other candidate's work thus far, perhaps bit impressed with the care being taken. "You could tell her to shove off?" Iktyziel suggests, possibly half-joking, "You're fostered, right? My brother and I were, as soon as we were old enough. My mother is a crafter.. She doesn't really have time for children. Her or anyone else in my family," said off-hand, and matter-of-factly. He shrugs a little, "If you don't think you will, why bother with candidacy?" it's said lightly, with a slight smile, "I don't know. I think Quap might, but I'm.. kind of worried I won't." Eyebrows draw together a little, the boy catching his lower lip between his teeth as he begins the lines for the wing membranes, mumbling a softer, "I hope we both do, though."

"I- I don't think I could tell anyone to shove off! Especially not her." Kiaran says with a shudder as he continues to work. Tiny strokes add in facets to the eye before he continues on. "I was fostered, with my sisters. But mom still took a big interest in us. Saw us a lot." From his tone? Not a good thing. "Well, Merci asked me to stand. So I had to say yes. Then afterward, I'll go back and be a scribe again." He looks over to Ikty for a moment, brush paused. "I think you will. You're outgoing. People like you. Dragons will like you."

"Why not?" Iktyziel half turns to grin a bit at Kiaran, "I've told my older brother, Y'ziel, to shove off plenty of times, when he keeps going on about how Quap and I should behave better." A slight shrug has the boy returning to the drawing, connecting the lines for the creature's wing membranes. One or two come out a little wobbly, but in all, it's more or less recognizable as a dragon's wing. "I sort wish.. my dad had taken an interest sometimes. It would have been nice to know him more," Ikt moves to the wing joints, glancing at Kiaran's work there, and attempting to add a similar amount of detail, though he's rather less successful. There's an, "Oh," about Merci, though, Ikty nodding, "I guess I'd have had to say yes, too. Imogen is the one that asked me to stand, after a blue said I smelled good," wrinkling his nose at that, though he does stop a moment to ask, "What are you going to do if you /do/ impress? I mean.. you wouldn't be able to go back to being a scribe like that." There's then a touch of pink on the lad's cheeks, Iktyziel rubbing the back of his neck with a, "..You really think so?" head tilting slightly before he shrugs, "Lots of riders aren't outgoing. In any case," and there's a bit of a smile for the other candidate, "no one can really tell. You've just as much a chance of impressing as I do. Who knows how the dragons choose."

"Well, I couldn't have told Imogen no either. She's really nice. It would have made her sad." Kiaran moves back for more paint, dipping just the very end of the brush in again. His work is slow, but exacting. "I don't like making people mad at me. It makes my insides all knot up and just feels horrible. So I try not to as best I can." Even if it means not standing up for himself. The head is finished with a final line and he moves down to work on a body. "I won't. And if I do? I guess I'll have to learn how do to it."

Iktyziel starts work on the back wing, attempting to be more careful as he makes the next few lines. "She is really nice," the boy agrees about Imogen, "At the time, she was helping me take something up to Y'ziel's ledge." There's a small, brief grin on his face, though he manages not to snicker as he leans down to dip his brush again. He pauses a moment to glance back at Kiaran, saying quietly, "I guess.. that is a good reason not to. It's not fun when people are mad at me either," brushing his fingers back through his hair, "I seem to get in trouble anyway, though." Given Ikty's tendency toward mischief and sneakery, however, that might be unsurprising. "Just be sure you're prepared to go through weyrlinghood, if you stand," Iktyziel cautions, though his voice is light, less serious and more teasing, "My brother said it was a lot of work, a lot worse than candidacy. And a lot of clean up, too." Baby dragons are messy, after all.

"But you wouldn't get in trouble if you didn't do things to get yourself in trouble." Kiaran points out. It's probably a rather odd time to do so as he's adding to the graffiti in the room. "Then people wouldn't be mad." His brush halts in position again for a moment before he adds. "I don't mind working hard. I'm good at working hard." If not being good at working quickly. He won't even mention the mess element.

Iktyziel hunches his shoulders just slightly, sheepish expression flickering over is face, "True.." Ahem. He moves down from the wings to the shoulders and back of the dragon, attempting to make it proportional to the head Kiaran has already drawn. One wing might be a bit oversized in comparison to the other, alas. "I guess I kind of deserve all the sock-mending duty," he has to grin a little, "It did come in handy, though, knowing how to sew. I'nigo's pants are almost done.. and my robe too." Glancing briefly at Kiaran, he asks, "Do you think they're going to bother checking how well it's sewn? I know they want us to make them ourselves, but.. some of us can't." As for working hard, Iktyziel nods, getting a little lazy with his brush strokes as he begins on the tail. There's a bit of a kink about halfway down, where he doesn't quite manage to have the lines meet up evenly.

Kiaran winces as he sees that kink form, but he's not speaking about it, working to make the body mesh. "I think they'll be most worried that it's sewn well enough that it won't fall off. Because if it all came unstitched on the sands it would be very embarrassing." Kiaran notes before he adds. "My robe isn't finished yet. I'm still working on it. You don't think the eggs will hatch too quickly do you? I'd hate to have an unhemmed robe for it."

Iktyziel leans down to dip the brush again, drops of paint landing on the ground as he attempts to finish the tail. The brush strokes become more whimsical, the boy making it overly long and all kinds of loopy. "I suppose so," he grins somewhat, "It would be funny, though, if someone's robe fell off on the sands," a soft snicker for that. "Although.. I guess it would be pretty bad, too. With all the people that will be there," he shakes his head a little, "I don't think I'd be able to show my face in Fort again, if that happened to me." Even so, there's a definite upward tug of amusement at the corners of his mouth. "I don't know.." he ponders the upcoming hatching with a bit of a head tilt, "It's been a long time since the last one, and I barely remember it. I think we have a lot of time, though." There is a pause, and then an added, "..I don't think they'll be checking for hems. At least.. I hope not."

"I'd feel bad for them. If their robe did. Because they would have to be beyond mortified with all those people staring at them. It will be bad enough to have all those people watching us in the first place." Kiaran states adding one more stroke before he steps back to look at the dragon. "Without a proper hem it won't be a neat, fully-finished robe."

With one final stroke, Iktyziel adds the last line to the tip of the tail, stepping back as well to admire their work. It's likely very clear which areas the redhead has worked on, slightly wobbly lines and oversized tail and wing. But still! On the whole, it's definitely a painting of a dragon. "Not bad," he states with pleased smile, "Hopefully, it will still be here by the time the eggs hatch. If we impress, when we're weyrlings, we can finish it with the colors of our dragons. What do you think?" Colors? Well, if they impress different colors, it might be a rather interesting-looking dragon. Cough. "I guess I'd feel bad for them too," he does add, though there's still the dimmest flicker of mirth in his eyes. "At least, from the galleries, we'll all look alike? I mean, it's pretty far. And we'll all be wearing the same things." As for the hem, Ikt ponders a moment, "Mm, I suppose it is better to have it all finished and neat. Still, it seems like a lot of extra work."

Kiaran looks over to Ikty for a moment more before he nods. "Right. So we'll come back after the hatching and paint it the color you impress." There is at least humor to his tone there. "I should be getting back to my chores. I don't want to get in trouble for shirking!"

"/We/ impress," Iktyziel states, with a bit of a grin for Kiaran, "And you'll see. You can never tell. Only the dragons know." He'll at least attempt optimism there, moving to collect the brushes and bucket. "I've got the afternoon off. I should probably go finish I'nigo's pants," making something of a face for that, "See you later!" He raises a hand in farewell to the other candidate, heading to where he left his scarf and gloves.


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