Lurking Within Tent

Half Moon Bay Weyr - Hearth Nook
This smaller room is separated off the main living cavern. The focal point is a big stone hearth, which always has a couple pots of stew and klah bubbling over it. Thick carpet lines the entire space and the room is has several cushy chairs and sofas spread around. There are no electric lights here, only glow baskets to keep the cosy effect.

A DAY OFF, WOOHOO! If Pritkin looks pleased, it's because he /is/. After stable duty, then infirmary duty, then every-other-godforsaken-duty on a candidate's chorelist, Pritkin is /done/ with being a help. He's found one of the more secluded areas of the weyr - because why not? He feels like anybody looking for him is probably just going to assign him /more work/, and the goal for today is to do absolutely /nothing/. He's found himself a spot on the floor, perched upon a rug with a steaming mug of Klah in hand and a book in the other. /Nothing/ can ruin his day now. Not a /damn/ thing. Sip. C'est la vie.

Lukhanyo is the thing that ruins many people's days, just ask his mother, but that isn't his intention as he moves into the nook. In fact, he seems rather intent on getting away from something. Or someone. Or possibly his hair as it seems to suddenly be… gone! It was definitely still long when he left the barracks that morning. He notices Pritkin mostly by nearly tripping over the younger lad. "Whooops. Hey." Rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck before leaning forwards and whispering, "Why are we hiding?"

Worry not, Lukhanyo: you cannot ruin this man's day. When Pritkin is nearly tripped over, the guard-turned-candidate brings his Klah in against his chest protectively so as not to spill it, and then turns a smile up and onto Luk. The face is familiar, of course, but Pritkin is keenly aware that he's not, up to this point, had any interaction with the older man. "No worries," he whispers back, just as mischievous green eyes look around the man to the entrance - almost conspiratorially. "/We/ are hiding because we don't want to do chores." The last is said on easy laughter, moments before those green eyes are back up on Luk's face and his brows furrow for a moment in thought. Whatever he's trying to decipher seems to come to him, because he's suddenly gesturing to his own unfortunate hair silently before whispering, "You cut it?" Look, he's even scooting just in case his fellow candidate wants to join him on the floor. /Definitely/ not going to ruin this one's day.

Lukhanyo pauses for a second and the just flops down on the floor beside Pritkin, "Now that is a plan I can definitely get behind. Though I have a feeling that chairs might not be enough of a barrier for us." He glances around for a moment, looking for something they could add, but eventually just settling on commenting that, "We need some blankets or something. Make a tent. Maybe one of the youngones to stand guard." At the mention of cutting he lifts one hand to rub the back of his neck again, wincing slightly, "To be accurate the lovely Tila cut it, though I didn't realise she was going to cut it quite /this/ short. Got a kiss out of it though, so it's not all bad." Another pause follows, the gears of his mind clearly working somewhere behind his eyes, "You're Pipkin, right?"

"I have a feeling you might be right," Pritkin murmurs, eyes darting around the room as if looking for any conveniently placed blankets to use. When his search turns up nothing, those green eyes are back on Lukhanyo, and the smile that comes across his lips this time is playful. "Fair trade," he reasons, seconds before a huff of laughter escapes his lips and he shifts to get to his feet. "I'm not sure who Tila is, but congratulations." His momentum is stunted at the name Lukhanyo calls him, leaving the blonde to do a doubletake before biting down more of that infectious laughter. "Pipkin? /Pritkin/. It's close enough. I… don't think I ever caught your name though." He pauses a moment, to be polite, and then he's holding up a finger to his lips, and whispering, "I'll be right back." /Right/ back might be an understatement, but Pritkin does reappear several moments later with an armful of blankets. Does he look please? /Absolutely/. He's dropping those on the floor beside Lukhanyo, and starting to rearrange the furniture. You've got to get it just right to get a tent going! "Help me with this?" he inquires, pushing at the sofa and finding it stubbornly refusing to budge.

"Very fair trade. Verrrrrrry fair." Lukhanyo somehow manages to get a leer into the drawing out of a word, which is rather a rare talent. "You've probably seen her around, works in the kitchen. Beauuuutiful… eyes." Yes eyes. Not any other body part. Honest. "PRITkin, right. Sorry. Hear one of the others saying it, guess it was their accent. Luka." His name, presumably, "Right… wha?" He seems confused as the other candidate moves off, though it's his turn to burst out laughing as Pritkin comes back with the blankets. "You're a nut, anyone ever told you that?" That doesn't stop him from moving to help, however, grabbing at the other end of the sofa to help tug it into place.

"/Just/ the eyes?" Pritkin inquires, tone dry and disbelieving - but it's all softened by the smile that just seems to refuse leaving his lips. "I'll have to keep my eyes open for her," a pause, and then, "Maybe I have seen her, actually." He looks ponderous, as if going through a mental rolladex of faces before shaking his head. "No, sorry. The only women I've seen in the kitchen haven't had very beautiful… eyes." Laughter. "Good thing, though. I wouldn't want to have to fight you for her." It's all playful, of course, followed by a rather strong conviction of: "Well met, Luka." But there is furniture to be moved, and insults to rebut, and not enough hours in his free day to dally. A nut? "Actually, no," he responds, but it's followed by one of those mischievous smiles again. "I /have/ been told that I might have a few screws loose, but that's been the worst of it." Green eyes suddenly level Luka with a caricature of sobriety as the couch is moved into place and blankets are retrieved for proper coverage - half of which are given to the older male. "Why, are you sane?" He leans in closer then, whispering, "Sane is boring."

Lukhanyo's grin on it own would be enough to telegraph the lie about the eyes, but the quick eyebrow raise only adds to it. "Oh yes, definitely… eyes. After all I'm a good candidate and wouldn't dare to look at anything other than her… eyes." He tries so hard to keep a straight face, but it's not too long before he's laughing too. "She's a good sort, no need to fight, she's very independent." Which likely means a kiss was as much as he's ever going to get. "Bet it was a smith told you that, they're obsessed with screws." Even he winces at the obvious innuendo there, adding quietly, "I need new material." But there's a sofa to be moved, and blankets to place, and more laughing to do at Pritkin's whisper, "Faranth forbid. I'm clearly just as crazy as you are. Wouldn't be here if we were sane, right?"

"/Definitely/ the eyes," Pritkin joins in, as if saying, 'I got you, bro.' There's a tsk in regards to Tila being good and independent, follow by a long-suffering sigh. "Can't be helped, then. You're going to have to go renegade and kidnap her." He says it with a straight face, laughing /only/ when Luka makes his smithy-screws innuendo. "Is that right?" he asks, suddenly dropping his voice to conspirator tones and levels. "Is that it, then? What you are, I mean. A /smith/?" There's a good natured clap on the shoulder for his comment about needing new material, and then Pritkin is right back to work. Those blankets are being strewn, and adjusted, until… WAH-LAH! Their teamwork has produced a rather suitable (albeit sad) fort. Green eyes shift so he can give the older man a side-eye, and then he whispers, "Right. /Or/ everybody else in the weyr is crazy and /we're/ sane because we're the only ones who had enough common sense to run away from chores. Come, let us retreat to our mancave." The last is followed by laughter and Pritkin makes quick work of finding his way back under the sheets. A pause, and then: "Bring a glow basket, will you? Can't see a sharding thing in here."

"Drag her off to the guest weyr and…" Lukhanyo pauses for dramatic effect, then adds, "have her help me tidy it because of course I'm behaving. Poor girl, she'd be heartbroken. Couldn't have that on my conscience." He's quick to shake his at Pritkin's question, "Shells no, Woodcraft me. Nolan's the smith. Couldn't stand all that heat and noise, trees are much better. You'd be amazed what goes on in a forest. And what comes off." One track mind? Perhaps someone's chafing at the rules slightly more than he wants to let on. "You might be onto something there. Some of the others do look a little strange around the… eyes." He snorts out a laugh, shaking his head, "Mancave. I like it. Could do with being a hair bigger though." A glowbasket is sought and found, deposited at the entrance and then pushed in in front of Luka.

Pritkin waits for it… waits for it… and is /not/ disappointed. His eyes go wide for a moment, as if he's surprised by just /what/ Luka's gonna do to that poor kitchen aide, and then he /laughs/. It's a full belly laugh, going on until he can manage to suck in a breath and rub at the scruff on his cheeks. "You're /definitely/ not going to have any problem with the ladies," Pritkin offers, and then he's shifting to make room for Lukhanyo as he pushes the glow basket in. He waits to comment until the older man is inside, tilting his head before dragging his mug of Klah back to himself and taking a sip. Less steamy, but… well… Pritkin makes a face. It'll do. "I'm not sure who Nolan is," he admits, because he /doesn't/. "But I'll keep an eye out for anybody with an obsession over screw… ing." He looks around their sad, partially caved in fort, and then gives a bit of a shrugs. "We did what we could with what we had. All in all, I'd say we did a pretty good job." And then Pritkin is scooting a little more, laying on his back, and bringing his arms up behind his head for support. "So, are you from Half Moon, or…?" Get to know each other time!

Lukhanyo grins and nods, "No complaints so far, least not to my face. This whole candidacy thing does rather put a cramp on things, but some of the girls love it. The forbidden is always exciting." He sounds like he's definitely talking from experience, though how recent of an experience is anyone's guess. "You'd know Nolan if you saw him. Blonde hair, blue eyes, what he claims are muscles. He's alright actually, but don't tell him I said that." He settles back for a moment, then looks uncomfortable and sits back up again, "Yep. Half Moon originally, then the Hall, now back again. My folks are still here though." Another settling, another moving, a frown, "You?" There's no time for an answer before he's crawling back out of the mancave again, "This calls for pillows. Be right back." And just like that he's off.

To Be Continued….

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