Beware of Bronzeriders

Half Moon Bay Weyr - Candidates' Barracks
Carved from a natural bubble in the volcanic stone, this small dorm room has room enough to hold around two dozen occupants comfortably. Along the walls are stationed sets of cots and clothes presses, each made up to the standards of the weyrwoman. Above, the soft white light from electric lamps cast down during waking hours.

It's evening-time, that weird hour after chores but before dinner, and a fresh bout of spring rain (read: a freaking deluge) pretty much assures attendance of candidates within the barracks. No lingering outside in the sunshine today! Heryn seems perfectly content to be cooped up for once, perched in a chair next to the squid tanks - it is apparently his shift to observe and document the strange little barracks pets. Fittingly, considering the costume that won it for him, he's wearing his crown at a jaunty angle as he pens something into the journal. It's bright. It's pink. It's hideous. It reads 'Very Pretty.' He loves it. "Has anybody else seen them do anything but swim and eat and sleep? I feel like that's all I ever notice about them," he grumbles to nobody in particular, squinting at the tanks, lips pursing.

"Glow." Emiallis chips in oh-so-helpfully from her cot. Her sheets are rumpled and there's a small army of pillows on her cot, one of them being occupied by her dozing blue firelizard. She's sitting on her cot, with an open book and a pen resting in her lap. Occasionally there's a jot or two made, and maybe a sketch? Or she's just writing things. Or maybe making shapes. Who knows. Like she's going to let anyone near that book.

Before dinner and relaxing in the barracks? A good place to be. Though Venryk wasn't able to get out of his duties for the day, working in the kitchen. The plus side might be that the candidate smells of /food/. Particularly bread and sugar, really. /Apparently/ there will be baked desserts come dinner time. He's flopped over cross-ways on his cot though, lifting his head to peer at Prettiest Heryn for the question. "Well /obviously/ they're coming out of there at night and filching things. Nobody else has admitting to tossing my shoe in there, after all. It's the only other viable explanation!" Or..someone is simply lying about it. Details, details.. The poor shoe in question is /still/ sitting in a corner, trying to dry out. Also it's a bit sparkly. There's a mournful look at the poor, abused footwear. "If that thing's even wearable once it dries out, I'm gonna have to give the same treatment to the other one so they match. That's something, at least." He glances back down at the book he's trying to read, but then just shoves it aside, folding an arm to support his head. He nods just a bit though, making a noise of agreement. "They /do/ glow. I woke up a little bit the other night and there was totally light coming out of there."

Freshly-scrubbed, and looking thoroughly traumatized, Cita shuffles into the barracks. "Next time I have stables, I'm running away." The healer declares in the same manner as Heryn's question, eye twitching a little. "The poop. The teeth." Cita pauses by her cot to kick her shoes underneath it, glaring at the pillow-messing firelizards sleepign on it. She completely ignores Heryn's Pretty Princess Crown as she moves over to the tanks, instead opening a jar of wriggling tiny worms and lowering a palm of them into the tank. WINNING is much more important than moping. "They do glow." Cita points, 'good point'-ly, at Emi. "They make little shelters. Look." Cita deposits the worms near a denser patch of plants. Had they been moved? Maybe. Venryk gets a sympathetic look as the candidate lifts her hand out of the water, flailing it to get the water off. "You should probably give up on the shoe."

Completely bruise free, yay, Jaelyn trudges in from the direction of the entrance there, a little journal opened up before him, as he walks and reads. He immediately takes a step off to the side to get out of the way of traffic, before he leans back and turns a page, his eyes narrowing at the untidy and barely legible scrawling across it. He drops a few choice words before, "I can't even read what I wrote…" he mutters, followed by a soft growl of fustration. Those golden eyes lift from the floor at the sound of a question, immediately finding the source. That's about when he stops, and stares at Heryn. It's a long, hard stare too. Almost as if he just can't figure out what it is that he is looking at. Lips are pursed before he forces his attention onto Venryk, concentrating on him instead. Shoe, it's all about the shoe. "What…happened?" he forms very carefully, eyes darting to Heryn and then back to the young male healer. Focus…focus. Blissfully distracted by Cita, he can take a breath as it seemed he was holding it for some reason. "Didn't scrub enough." he tells her as she passes him by, but alas it is too much. His gaze finds itself back on Heryn and he lifts his journal up over his face, his shoulders bouncing up and down as he starts to laugh. A real, honest to goodness laugh.

It's time, oh yes. D'nyl warned them. He warned them all, and now they've had time to grow complacent. MWAHAHAHAHA. D'nyl's face is freshly-shaved, his expression set in a thin frown as he strides, no, struts into into the barracks, uniform freshly pressed. He stands just inside the doorway, leaving room for the others to enter, and lets his eyes travel from dutiful candidates monitoring squid ecology to Emiallis' pillow throne and the glitter shoe. He had, at least, been forwarned about the shoe. The various complaints about chores, though, those he misses. For now. He waits until Aglaia enters, then takes a deep breath, barking out like any guard sargent might: "Fall out, Candidates! It's inspection time!" Oh, yes. Oooooh, yessssssssssss.

The Senior's not long behind D'nyl, of course. She's the one with the self-imposed burden of a clipboard and notebooks and pens. She also seems plenty happy to let D'nyl handle, well, the Candidate-wrangling side of this whole thing; she's just going to take her time and get a good long look at what's going on in the barracks. Glitter shoe? Check. Pillow throne? Double-check. Pink crown? Double-take. She opens her mouth, closes it, then opens it again to utter a barely audible, wholly inarticulate, "…whaaa." Better, then that she shuts her mouth and keeps it that way for the moment while she busies herself with taking notes.
Sundari is following along not to long after D'nyl, cast still on her arm and flight jacket looking a bit wet like. Well it has been raining after all. She sends an amused look across the room, pausing as she catches sight of a mountain of pillows on a cot and lifts a brow slightly. "So that is why there is a shortage of pillows in the Weyr." She is joking, maybe. The WLM moves along humming softly to herself, pausing once at a point and is so waiting for people to start scrambling around. There is a moment she sends a glance to Heryn and just grins. "Nice crown Heryn."

Heryn hmms. "Good point, Em, they do glow and I guess they're good for making a heinous amount of glitter, but other than that… Just feels like I'm writing the same journal entry every time. 'Still sparkly. Still hiding under shell. Still too big for hidey-shell. Doubting intelligence as species.'" He mimics writing in a dramatic fashion as he says it, crown careening dangerously. He aims an amused huff at Cita when she shakes worms into her palm. "I already fed them. Now they're just going to get fat." Do they get points for fatness? Hmm. Still, he snickers and nods for her assessment of the Ven-shoe situation. "She's right, you know. Even if you did soak the other one, you'd just trail glitter shoeprints everywhere." The horror! Blue-grey eyes lift when Jaelyn trudges in, and Heryn immediately snorts for that look, fist coming up in front of his mouth to equally poorly disguise laughter. Damn betraying shoulder quakes. "Hey. Like my crown?" He pushes it to an even jauntier angle to amuse him more, just in time for Aglaia and the weyrlingstaff to storm the barracks, so of course, when he whips to his feet it sort of… slowly… slides off his floppy hair and bounces once or twice on the floor before he sweeps it back up and puts it right back on his head as he darts to his cot. Hopeless. "Thanks, Sunny," is chirped back her way as he goes, but alas, this doesn't seem the time to chat about it, as much as he'd like to!

Emiallis jumps as the assistant weyrling master starts barking orders, whatever word she was just on jumping up and off the page. There's an unpleased growl that comes from Emi's throat as she looks up to see well… multiple authority figures standing there. That kills the growl down to an unhappy scowl from her pillow throne, and queen Emi slowly works at extracting herself, as if it's of her own free will, and not because she's expected to stand next to her cot while her things get ruffled. Her journal gets shut and that she holds onto. Heryn's antics with his crown? That gets an amused shake of her head with an eyeroll. "No one would have problems finding him, if he soaked both shoes. Just follow the shimmer-prints." At least today she has a sense of humor instead of just being surly and childish. Though the inspection probably won't help with that. Sundari's comment? That gets a soft huff.

Even Venryk hasn't fully recovered from the fashion show they had. Why, the tips of his hair are still a shade of blue that just wouldn't wash out. Alas. He looks over though when Jaelyn comes in, offering the other boy a broad grin for his question. "What? To my shoe or to Heryn? My /shoe/ ended up in the tank, somehow. I don't have a /clue/. I didn't put it there, I'll tell you that much..I'm having absolutely no luck with footwear this trip. Sandals breaking, shoe in the /tank/…cursed! I'm going to be barefoot by the time the hatching rolls around, and then where will I be? I'll be with burned feet, that's what." Oh woe and lament. He rolls over a bit, draping his arm across his eyes briefly before he sits up. "Heryn is the prettiest. That's what happened. Didn't you know?" And then Jaelyn is doing the unthinkable. He's..laughing? The healer's eyes just grow wide, and stay that way. There's an open-mouthed look, and a wild gesture at his usually so..stoic friend, flailing at anyone nearby to /look/. He does eventually seem to relent about it though, swinging his feet down onto the floor. "Well what's wrong with a trail that's easy to follow?" There's a sudden, bright grin in Emiallis' direction as their thoughts seem to run in the same direction…at least a bit. "But I'm sure they wouldn't track /everywhere/. I mean..could scrub it off the bottom of /that/ shoe and then just not get it on the bottom of the other's a total loss cause, isn't it?" Poor..poor shoe. Venryk will mourn it, and possibly bury it later out of respect. He slouches forward a little until there's a /strutting/ and other stuch footsteps that enter the barracks. Three of them, even! The healer's eyes go wide again and he hops up to his feet, doing a quick tug down of his blankets. See? They're /tidy/.

"I've seen things." Cita mutters Jae-wards, eyes haunted. "Scubbing won't ever take it all." She concludes, dramatic and mournful. The shoulder-shaking laughter gets a brief up-tilted eyebrow, but then she's snorting at Venryk, shaking her head. "Somebody could carry you." She suggests, with a pointed glance towards the Giant Strong Men. If Cita is alarmed by the arrival of various Rider Boss-Types, she doesn't show it, beyond a brief widening of her eyes. She may or may not glance guiltily towards her cot, but she falls in, side-stepping that bouncing crown like it's Perfectly Normal to have to avoid falling tiaras. "Tracking system! Smart." She mutters for Emi, glancing between the riders and smiling tentatively. They're good. Really.

Jaelyn just can't even. He shoves his face into the journal in his hands even harder, unable to even look at Heryn anymore. His words, asking if he liked it, just make him laugh harder. He can't even stop when those with actual authority show up, but at least the surprise barracks inspection have him toning it down a little. Either that or breathing was becoming difficult. One arm is wrapped around his side as he shuffles his way towards the door of his room, shoulders still shaking uncontrollably. He fumbles for the doorknob, managing the third or fourth time to grasp it and swing the door open before he goes to stand beside it. Nice and clean in there, for once. Except the workbench, that had a computer all torn apart into peices all over it, but hey his bed was even made. Slowly but surely, he starts to quiet down, but that journal of his is kept over his face until he can get it back under control. Wiping at his eyes with the pad of his thumb, he finally drops the book away from his slightly reddened face. Pointedly, he does not look at Heryn again. "I hear ya…" he shoots back at Cita, and accidentally gets another peek at Heryn again, covering his face with his hand now and his shoulders start shaking again. "Venryk…I…just…" he starts, glancing at Venryk to whom he just stares as well as he finally gets a long look at him as well and bows his head. "Yer…hair…" There's more soft, muffled laughter from the computer crafter. Emi's comment about shimmer prints and that's it, he crouches down beside his doorway and buries his head beneath his arms and starts laughing again.

D'nyl can't help the slight smirk that appears at the various attempts to hide their disarray. He turns, taking measured strides along the row, stopping at each cot to check on the cleanliness and disposition. He always stops and asks a few questions and a few punishments have been set out when he finally reaches Emi's throne, he pauses, looking over the length of the cot, then up at the princess herself, "Evening, Candidate. Do tell me, now that you've settled in, how are you liking candidacy and just where did you acquire so many pillows?"

As for Aglaia, she's definitely the quiet and reserved type. Or, probably, resigned for the slight slouch to her shoulders. The state of the barracks is one thing; the state of the Candidates? That's another entirely. The Crowned Handsomeness of Heryn, the Giggling Jaelyn, the cursed Shoeman that is Venryk, Pillow Fortian Emi, and Cita the Seer of Too Many Things. One of the Senior's eye's twitch, just a little, and she turns her attention from all of that and to the squids in their tanks. She's listening, really - and not just to D'nyl, gauging from the periodic flicker of strangeness that passes over her features. And that pen? Working like it's never worked before.

Sundari chuckles a bit and shifts letting her good hand settle within the pocket of her jacket while she is watching amused like. "So… These are the ones the dragon's found…?" Is faintly murmured to D'nyl. She so blames him for half of this mess thank you. As for dear Emiallis she totally heard that bit of a huff. "Where did you get all the pillows from anyway… An why do you have them all on your cot for that matter?" She'll let D'nyl torment some of the others.

"From my room." Emiallis responds smartly, and promptly. She did have a collection of pillows before she even became a candidate. She just really likes to curl around pillows. And of course Duluth needs one of his own. "And I'm pretty sure you search candidates so you have a force for all this menial labor you're having us do." Should she really be talking like this, especially with the Weyrwoman present? And the weyrlingmasters? Lets just see where that tongue puts her. Her eyes slide over to Jaelyn for just a few moments and there's another headshake before her gaze is back on D'nyl, and Sundari. What? No tag-teams! Prepare for trouble, and make it double…

Heryn is entirely too pleased with himself, for someone that's likely about to get dressed down for an unmade bed, weaponry kept out in the open in the form of a bow and arrows, and non-regulation headwear. There's likely a reason he's been wearing that damn crown every single time he hits the dormitories, though, and there it is! Over there. Crouching. Reduced to giggles. Color him proud. Dark eyebrows bob over at Venryk for his stunned gesturing in a very 'I know right?!' manner, but Heryn likewise can't take the risk of looking over at Jaelyn, or he's likely to bust into a fit of unmanly giggles too. As it is, he snorts intermittently, biting down on his lip as D'nyl starts his inspection. Play it cool. Play it cool. Pillows, snort. NO. We're totally cool. Nothing to see here. "You've got a… thing," Heryn mutters to Cita out of the corner of his mouth since Emiallis is likely to have garnered all attention with her backtalk, eyes flicking equally meaningfully down at a book cheerfully labeled '101 Deaths and How to Execute Them' or something equally gross and disturbing poking out from beneath her cot. Sundari and D'nyl are pushed out of his mind for now - they're awful far away - but Aglaia's paying entirely too much attention to their persons, and then, to their squids! Well, maybe she won't notice the wood carving of a chest overflowing with mark coins tucked into the corner of theirs… Maybe…

Poor Jaelyn. Venryk just can't stop staring at the boy that seems to have suddenly succumbed to a plague of giggles the likes of which have never been seen in Half Moon Bay. There's a smile though that's forming, despite trying to look presentable and perhaps even professional. ..Nope. It doesn't work. A hand covers his own mouth as the laughter plague threatens to spread to him as well. Thankfully, it seems D'nyl has gone after Emiallis and her pillows. For now. "Jae..heh..get up.." Really, the other candidate can't possibly be inspected while sitting on the floor. He at least tries to remain quiet about it, not wanting to drag attention in their direction. Though Emi's own words have him falling silent again with eyes all wide once more. Uh oh.

Cita has a bright grin for the Weyrwoman's inspection of the tanks — there, at least, they have nothing to worry about. "The tanks are working perfectly. Ma'am." The healer reports, unasked, then winces maybe a little at D'nyl and Sundari's questioning of Emiallis. Her fellow Candidate's sass gets a wide-eyed 'ABORT MANEUVER' kind of look, but Cita has the sense to keep quiet. Cita notes Heryn's muttering with a comical wince and inches sideways, nudging '101 Deaths' under her cot subtly (think recently-injured wher). "Thanks. How is your cot so neat." She mutters back, helpfully nudging the tiara towards Jaelyn, eyes widening pointedly, probably uselessly. HIDE IT, while you're down there. Alas, she can't help poor Venryk, except to give him her best Be Cool Man look. So she just stands, looking not at all suspicious with her arms clasped behind her back and shoulders squared. She definitely doesn't fidget, or try to nudge the gruesome healer book further under the bed. Or talk with only her eyes at the others. Helpfully.

It was like Jaelyn was getting all the laughing he had never done ever out of way right here and now, though the pain in his sides must be epic at this juncture. Cita certainly wasn't helping with her foot nudge of the tiara in his direction, one watery looking golden eye peeking up at the sound of the thing scrapping across the floor. Nope, that does him in again. "Wor-working on it…" he manages for Venryk between soft gasping chuckles, before breathlessly his head does drop down to allow his shoulders to bobble still. However, hee does reach out and take the tiara before he shoves himself to his feet and disappears into his room so he can toss it into his laundry hamper, and covers it with some clothes that were already in there while he's at it. Out of sight, out of mind. That done, he can now collect himself appropriately, straightening out his back and only after he can walk out there without a smile on his face does he return to stand just outside the open door again. Pointedly, his gaze is affixed tro the ceiling and he's muttering something to himself over there. That is, until Eniallis sasses the assistant weyrlingmaster, which instantly brings his full attention to her. While he's not going to widen them any, he will stare a bit stoically, or perhaps with interest. Hard to tell as he's officially got himself under strict control again, as if that whole laughing thing had never happened. And it didn't. Ever. A flick of attention is spared to Cita and her book, and he's not looking at Heryn and you can't make him.

D'nyl glances at Sunny, then back at Emi. Don't think he's oblivious to the gesturing going on behind him.. he's just giving them a chance to decide how to react while he continues to move around Emiallis' bed, "Oh? Well… I'm sure that if that's the only reason we do it, you won't mind doing double chores for the next sevenday. Or…" He does a quick count of her pillows, "The next 8 days. Two days per non-regulation pillow." Apparently, the firelizard pillow is regulation.. maybe… After that, he stalks to the next cot on his list, allowing Sunny to finish interrogating Emi without seeming to give her undue attention. "Heryn." Brown eyes slide over the miskept cot, "I do believe that there are proper ways to keep and store weapons and that is not it."

It's only after D'nyl makes his inspection and assessment that the Weyrwoman 'comes to', as it were. "Yeah. See- Emiallis, right?" Aglaia finally tears her gaze away from the squids, her expression vacant for a long moment. She points the business end of a pen at the Candidate in question, the tip unwavering. It's rare that she puts on her 'Senior Weyrwoman' voice, but she's doing it now, by Faranth. "You don't have to Stand. If you Stand, you might Impress. If you Impress, then you're shoveling dragon dung and cleaning up, and oiling, and feeding them - and none of that's clean. None of it's easy." The tip of her pen drops to the paper. "So. Any time you want to stop doing this 'menial labor', say the word and I'll take your knot. Understood?" The words might be directed straight to Emiallis, but the others are peripherally included, of course. "Eight days of extra chores. And one day spent catering to Valigath's whims." Her jaw tightens and holds for a good three beat before she's - well, to say too tired isn't quite right. She just can't hold that up for all that long. Another glance to the aquariums follows and she nods, catching Cita's words evidently. And, probably, all that awkward moving over there. She looks - but whether or not she sees anything? That's something else entirely.

Sundari just quietly peers at Emiallis a few long moments and is rather quiet while D'nyl and Aglaia have a turn an only looks on amused like honestly as she moves on over to the girl's cot. "I think we have talked about this before… I'm not going to lie, I'm a bit amused as to why you agreed to go through this with your thoughts on 'menial labor'." This said with a soft tone. "You will also get to learn proper bathing and oiling of a dragon, in the morning with Irkevalath." Yes that would be /her/ blue. "I think you will find it rather interesting why we make sure all Candidate's do these chores." Her gaze turns over to the others as she lifts her voice a bit. "These chores are to show you that hard work could equal a life with a dragon that means you have to care and actually work with someone else the rest of your life." She will eye Emiallis a moment before she looks over to Venryk noting the blueness still upon him. "It was a good show the other night, but I do expect the dye to be off the next tim I see you, alright?"

Emiallis can't argue with a Weyrwoman. Even the spoiled brat knows better than to do that. Her mouth had been forming some sort of comment before Aglaia spoke up, and that mouth closes with a 'clak'. That won't stop her eyes from narrowing in a barely constrained temper tantrum though. And those eyes get slimmer. And slimmer. Each of the authority figures is given a glare, but the girl doesn't say a word. Her lips are pursed with distaste, and there's even some excess moisture in those eyes, but her response is simply to stamp a foot down - as if in defiance - and cross her arms, and flop of the edge of her cot, as if to say 'I'm here. I'm staying.' Just you people watch. She's gonna impress that gold. And then. Oh then. Then she'll do nothing she doesn't want to after her baby is all grown.

"Is… is that sarcasm, Citayzleat?," Heryn mumbles, whipping out the big guns in the form of her full name because his is really not neat at all. "I was on squid duty…" That's his story, and he's sticking to it! He makes the mistake of smirking when she goes to edge that grisly book under her cot, gaze tracking as she also toes his tiara over towards Jaelyn and oh well nope there goes any modicum of control he had over his laughter as the boy absconds with it. When Jae peers over at Cita, Heryn leans sharply out from behind the Healer so he can't be missed, two fingers pointing at his eyeballs, and then at Jae's, the message clear. He saw that! It isn't until D'nyl barks his name that Heryn remembers himself, about jumping out of his skin before standing straight, bright grin suddenly going really shifty. "I, uh… I was going to… Well, I… No, you know what, I got nothing," he finally concludes with a slight chuckle, perhaps encouraged towards honesty by the swift and severe doling of punishments for Emiallis's sass. He isn't even going to try, and might even offer a nod of understanding when Aglaia and Sundari include the rest of them in their respective point-makings. The man can be taught! "Didn't wanna go back out into the rain to store it properly. Totally my fault." Clap him in irons! There might be a bit of a sulk over at Sundari for the implication Venryk has to change his hair, though. The blue…!

Venryk tilts his head just slightly when Jaelyn makes off with Heryn's crown. Oh he's /onto/ you, Jae. He knows that the other boy is saving it for /later/. For reasons. Everyone secretly wants to be The Prettiest. He shakes his head though, glancing quickly at Emi again before a rather meaningful look is directed at Jaelyn again. /Chores/. Important. See? There's a swift bit of nodding even, probably hoping that the other boy gets the /message/. Playing it cool though? Oh sure…no. Venryk is not At all. He just gives Cita a rather helpless look for..everything going on. It's certainly not /his/ fault. Fingers quickly lift to his hair self-consciously though when Sundari draws attention to it, eyes rounding. "I /tried/ to wash it out! It faded and everything, but it didn't come totally out. I'll keep trying though. I mean, it can't stay in there forever or anything, I sure didn't think it'd be permanent at all!" Maybe with a few more scrubs the blue will fade enough to be a little less..noticeable.

Cita is a rock. She is an island. She is not going to laugh at Jaelyn, seriously, it's just not going to happen. She might smirk, just a little, at the watery-eyed look. Whoops. Accident, really, but at least he actually does go stash the darn thing. The Weyrwoman and Weyrlingmasters' response to Emi's back-talk gets the healer's full attention, though, as she listens with slowly widening eyes. Her own cot gets a nervous look, now, where before her confidence had been pretty high. Cita, too, can take a point — she lowers her chin, only glancing askance briefly at Heryn. Maybe it WAS. MAYBE. "Looks fine to me." The healer mumbles right back, like obviously that's where bows go. In beds. Well, her best subject really isn't projectiles, so she just blinks at D'nyl slowly. And Faranth help her, she just barely keeps her crap when Heryn I-see-you-s Jae, eye twitching helplessly at Venryk. Yeah, no, she gets it. "We've got some herbs that should bleach it out in the infirmary." Cita offers, helpfully. "Just a little bit." She reassures, serious. Hair is serious business, though.

Jaelyn is distracted from watching Emiallis getting mercilessly pile-driven with extra chores by Venryk, who was giving him meaningful looks over there from his cot. He openly stares at the male healer candidate, which in itself has meaning, because he might just be tossing daggers with that look. The only reason chapter seven of '101 Deaths and How to Execute Them' isn't swiftly carried out on the younger boy is likely the sensation of eyes on him from elsewhere. Heryn. The expression on his face mellows out back to its smooth betrayal of nothing, but his chin does tip upwards a few degrees, oh so slowly. It says it all really, bring it. Golden eyes slide to Cita, and then down to the floor with a lowering of lashes. Hmf, nothing to see here folks. Nothing at all.

D'nyl snorts softly at Heryn's excuses. "Well, lad, before I leave this room, you will have fixed the disposition of this cot and its contents to regulation, then you'll spend the next two days doing additional duty with the armsmaster in the care and maintenance of weapons and will need to recite for me why it's important to have proper stowage in your own quarters in the case of need for the future." He turns slowly in place, settling his inscrutable gaze on Cita, "I'm glad you find their punishments funny, healer. And how are you finding our training program?"

Darn those squiddles. They keep pulling Aglaia's attention - and not necessarily in good ways. Her brow knits and she shakes her head, but to no avail. "… if you'll excuse me." Sundari and D'nyl will definitely recognize the pained expression that suggests Valigath's causing chaos. And that's- well. That's that, then. There's a nod to the Candidates, a lingering look - one that's tired rather than judgemental - leveled on Emiallis and Jaelyn for reasons (probably) and then she's off, slipping back out of the barracks.

While under normal conditions there'd be a lot of snickering and snorting for the looks on both sides of the Jaelyn-Venryk front, alas, Heryn is being redressed! He actually looks abashed about it, head ducking in a series of nods to show he understands. "Yes, sir," is said in as much of a subdued voice as most people in the room have heard him use, not moving until D'nyl's attention moves on. Only then does he drop the tension out of his shoulders, gaze switching to Emi to give her a wide-eyed 'that was intense' sort of look before busying about cleaning up the area around his cot and definitely not looking Cita's way when D'nyl accuses her of finding their misery funny. It'd be too hard to keep his face straight. There might be a bit of nasal laughter for the notion of using herbs to get the blue out of Venryk's hair, though, and he really can't help but tack on a wry, "Just be careful they don't mix and make it violently green or something." Because that'd kind of be his luck, wouldn't it? Covers are shaken out and then stretched up towards his pillow, and the bartender uses the pretense of fixing his cot to aim a look over at Jaelyn. Oh. It's so on. The departing Weyrwoman is given a nod of farewell and perhaps a squint of concern for that pained look, but again, he has sense enough not to ask.

There might be a continued, nervous tugging at Venryk's blue-tipped hair. He nods though, a bit quickly at the second note that the color needed to be gone. "Alright, I'll keep at it and..oh! That!" There's a quick bit of pointing at Cita, who saves the /day/. Really, there's a look of utmost /relief/ for the other healer. Thank goodness. Jae-glares? Alas, the teenager is immune to that sort of business. Besides, he's too busy being relieved that the threat of needing to cut his hair has passed for the time being. Except then Heryn is talking about things becoming /further/ colored wrongly, and Venryk can only stare at him with a wide-eyed look of utter /betrayal/. His tongue sticks out in that direction. Hmph. Thankfully though, he can now fade into the background of forgotten and dealt with candidates. Next please?

Cita's good with eye-only communication, and that lowered-lash look gets an interested twitch of an eyebrow. Oh, really? And Venryk gets a brief grin, and shake of her head, amused and mama-bear-ly. "We'll fix it, ma'am." Is the healer's reassurance for Sundari, still Very Serious. Heryn's punishment apparently mystifies the healer candidate — she blinks again, turning just a little to eye the bronzer and other candidate. There is definitely sympathy, there, but when D'nyl turns to her, Cita frowns. "Sir?" She ventures, slowly, then straightens up. "No, sir! I don't." She refutes, firmly; although she doesn't go so far as to explain what actually is so funny, bless. She does glance between Emi and Heryn though, head shaking minutely. It might be fun to torment them sometimes, but, not like that! "It's. Not easy?" The candidate continues, slowly, choosing her words warily now, looking just a bit like she might like to bolt. "Trying to keep up with my studies has been difficult. How did you find it?" Is it sass? Is she genuinely curious? It's kind of hard to tell, as she grips her hands behind her back and squints at the riders thoughtfully.

Emiallis is most definitely still pouting on her cot, though at least by now, her head has turned to watch the weyrlingmasters go at other candidates. Of course, none of them sassed quite as much as she did, but… Her facial expression doesn't change all the while she watches, even as the Weyrwoman gives her and Jae a look, and slips out. She's starting to think that maybe D'nyl likes giving out punishments.

Book? Jaelyn suddenly sees feet come into his field of view along the floor, and golden eyes travel along one of Sundari's legs and then the entire length of her body before finally coming to rest upon her face. He'll just drink that in seconds he really can't spare, before he glances at her knot and then right back down to the smudge of squid glitter he was staring at there to the right. The journal dangling from the long fingers of his left hand is brought up and then across the distance between them, in offering. When she takes it, he drops the tattooed arm back down to his side, gaze tracking across the stony barracks floor to somewhere, anywhere but at the Weyrlingmaster. "Journal." he says softly, "…wasn't reading it." This is muttered even softer, and his voice has thankfully returned to his usual toneless even tenor. As Sundari will quickly find out, the reason why Jaelyn wasn't reading it was because it was unreadable. For being the son of a harper, his handwritten was absolute wherry scratch to the point that someone might even believe that it was either in a completely new language with an entirely new alphabet, or that the fifteen turn old didn't know how to read and write. Page after page after page of nothing legible, well except that little doodle on the very corner of the back inside cover that was rather accurate…when it came to male genitalia…but one might need to ask: why was it frowning? Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Jae's eyeball journey takes him back over towards Venryk, and finding that the younger boy was not longer interested in him, he'll just let his eyes wander again. Emi's sulking post-choreageddon, then Cita's crisp yes and no's, and then finally Heryn just in time for his aimed look. Maybe, just maybe he straightens his shoulders a little bit in response along with narrowing his eyes just a fraction. You betcha.

D'nyl looks Cita up and down, "I found it a pleasant relief from my prior life. Though I found lessons quite distasteful." But at least Sunny taught him to read, right? "In fact, you'll all get a taste of my life before candidacy when we go on a field trip in a sevenday. It will only be a day trip, so you'll be lucky. But you can only take what you can carry on your back." Does he give Emi a quick look at that? Yes, yes he does. He turns, as if he's about to say something more to Cita specifically, then pauses, his head tilting slightly to the side before he turns and moves to join Sunny at Jaelyn's cot, looking over her shoulder at the journal. He frowns slightly, but not in displeasure, then reaches to close the journal if Sunny will let him and offer it back to the lad, "Do remember that you'll need to keep your work space clean enough to do your assigned candidate's lessons on it as well as your craft work. And please stop by my office tomorrow. I have some extra chores for you as well."

Sundari didn't actually plan on taking hold of the 'book' though as Jaelyn offers it freely she hums a bit and is looking through the pages a bit curious like, not honestly reading anything. HEY she isn't that nosy thank you very much. There is a pause and she blinks at the well doodle and a brow lifts and she sends a slight look towards Jaelyn and has no problem letting D'nyl take the journal, which she was about to give back to the boy. "By the way, there was talk of what you could bring… Just a knife. We will bring the rest, as it is just a day trip we don't need to bring much." She lets her hands clasp before her while glancing over the lot. "So have we left anyone out?" This said with a teasing tone to D'nyl.

Emiallis' face goes pale. She may have been fuming, but she was still listening. And the bombshell of a day's field trip into the savage wilderness has the blood completely draining from the top half of her body, her heart sinking down into her stomach. She remembers that conversation and how they got to the bet. But even with her face being pale white and those freckles standing out, she lifts her chin in defiance at D'nyl. She's not backing down.

Faranth help them if this candidate class ever decides to take up purely nonverbal communication for the rest of their lives - they would be unstoppably good at it. Venryk's look of betrayal earns a cheerfully over-helpful grin from Heryn, along with a shrug, as though to say 'Well, it could happen!' Because… it could! But hey, if it saved the curls, anything was worth a shot. Citayzleat gets a more serious look for her firm refute, Cheshire grin dimming down to something more like appreciation, or perhaps camaraderie as he gives her a nod and goes back to tucking the last bit of errant sheet into place. They might have their moments, Cita and Heryn, but she was good people. Jaelyn's narrow eyes must mean something to Heryn, because that seriousness fades, both cheeks dimpling in a sudden grin that he's quick to twitch away when first Sundari, and then D'nyl, move over the Computercrafter's way. No sense getting him into even more trouble. No, he'll busy himself very carefully folding up the edges of his blanket, creating crisp lines that can't possibly have come from only a short period of candidacy before finally he talks again. "We are going? Excellent!" Heryn is… entirely too excited, honestly, considering it's outdoorsing and roughing it. There's a brief amused flicker - he could carry an awful lot on his back, perhaps even Emiallis if it came down to it - but Sundari is quick to amend what they're allowed to bring, earning a fake jut of his lower lip. Aww. "Define 'knife.'" Because that's not worrisome, from someone about to spend a great deal of time in the armory. Not at all.

Watch As Citayzleat's Entire Happy Outlook On Life Disappears! More at 9:00! She might not go as dealthy-white as Emi, but Cita does blanch, eyes widening to saucer-size. "Sir?" She ventures again, no longer even in the vicinity of cool and collected. "You mean…" She can't say it. She just can't. If she lives in denial, maybe she won't have to poop in the woods or be eaten by VTOLs like some sort of heathen. Not even Sunny's news that it's only a day-trip seems to cheer her up, and she tries to catch Emi's gaze mournfully. Alas. It was a good life. Heryn's appreciation can't even cheer her up out of her shell-shocked and vaguely nauseated-looking funk, although she does try to smile. Pitifully. Just pitiful. "It's." A beat. Her utter distaste for nature and her lack of ability to keep her mouth shut eventually Can't Even, though, and Cita coughs delicately. "Are we allowed a medical pack…?" Right. That's what she was going with originally.

The movement of someone else coming over to take a gander at his illustrious illustration is enough bring his attention back to the now two authority figures that were hovering nearby. Were they multiplying, dividing, or gravitating? Unconsciously he takes half a step back when the journal is closed and offered back to him, as this action brings the bronzerider physically closer in proximity, at least limbwise. A side glance Cita, Emi and Heryn's way before D'nyl and Sundari are his focus…for all of five seconds. Lashes lower his gaze back to the floor with a nod of his head for a stop by the office, though the muscles along the sides of his jaw do tighten considerably. "Yes sir…" he mutters, very quietly as he takes the weathered journal from him as slowly and gingerly as possible with the hand attached to his tattooed shoulder before it again, falls to his side. Maybe he saw the benefits in not arguing with or challenging those who could make his life so much worse than it already was, after what had happened to the Pillow Princess over there. Way to take one for the team, Emi!

D'nyl sweeps a gaze over the candidates, his brows arching at the varying degrees of fear and confidence, then glances at Sunny, "I also recommend a single change of clothes. There will be a river involved. Are there any other questions, candidates? Or should I take a closer look at some of these bunks?" He gives Heryn's bunk a dark look. Those corners had better be tucked.

Sundari glances to D'yl and seems a bit amused. "Fine, yes a change of clothing as well." As for Heryn she sends him a glance before taking the knife out she carries to show it to him. Nothing fancey, about six inches long. "Shouldn't need anything more then something like this for what we have planned." The knife is tucked away and she ahs softly. "Yep, should I go get the measuring stick?" She MIGHT be joking…

DID SOMEBODY ORDER SOME DRAMA? Pritkin sure as hell didn't, but he comes racing from the outside world into the candidate barracks looking like a /wild man/. How lucky that D'nyl is here giving an inspection, because Pritkin has merrily invited a plethora of filth along on his clothes (which drip and drip in spattering patterns of mud behind him thanks to a mix of weather and looking like he fell into the biggest mudbath he could find). The candidate's already undignified appearance is marked by the same misgiving all heros and heroines have in really bad horror movie plots: his feet find the most conveniently placed object of 'TRIP ON ME AND MEET DEATH' available (USE YOUR IMAGINATION, OK), which just sends him flying in a rumpled heap of what /sounds/ like, 'Pleasepleasepleasehelpmeplease' but could have been something much more manly and dignified. Regardless, the muddied, harried, panicked looking candidate is followed by ringing words of: "FEE FI FO FUM I SMELL THE BLOOD OF LITTLE CANDIDATES." WAH-BAM. ILA'DEN. The bronzerider appears like any good mass murderer might: all brooding, shadow shrouded, maniacal dissent with bow in hand. For the record, he is /also/ dripping water and mud all over the floor. He steps in, looking more like the Cheshire cat than any human being in their RIGHT MIND is allowed to look, and sweeps grey eyes over Sunny, and D'nyl, and PROBABLY SHIRTLESS HERYN - pausing on Jaelyn. One brow arches, but the man stares only for a moment, saying nothing and then waves all around. "Don't mind me!" he chirps, sounding bright and sunny despite the fact that he /probably shouldn't be here/ and Pritkin goes doing what might have been a crawl if not for the fact that water-trodden clothes leave him slipping about in a really pathetic heap of muddiness. Ila'den LOOMS, and then picks Pritkin up off of the floor to 'dust' him off. This just makes more mud spatter everywhere. "/Sorry/ about that," Ila'den says in a tone that might be apologetic if not for the fact it's oozing sarcasm. Clearly that mud was aimed for SUNNY AND HER 'MATE. "Just going to borrow this," he says, and Pritkin, with an indignant sound that might have been a dying pig if not being well /Pritkin/, is getting thrown over Ila'den's shoulders in a fireman carry. Eyes are on Heryn for a moment, the bronzerider's head goes to the side, and then he heaves a sigh. "We've got to stop meeting like this," he says. AND THEN HE'S FLEEING, KIDNAPPING PRITKIN AGAIN BECAUSE THAT'S HOW ILA ROLLS.

Heryn at least tries to be comforting once it's clear he's about the only one excited for the camping trip in their immediate vicinity. "It's alright, Cita. D'nyl literally eats tunnelsnakes for breakfast. We'll be in good hands, yeah?" The oversized bartender offers her a gentle shoulder-pat before going back to his task, pulling covers up until they're stretched tight under his pillow. There's a second glance Jaelyn's way when the weyrlingstaff seems to linger, a definite frown creasing his brow for the boy's glance back in their direction, but instead of words there are only pursed lips and a small shake of his head. Finally, he seems satisfied with the cot, smoothing one last wrinkle out of the blanket before standing, moving so he's less hovering along the fringes and more an active participant in the conversation, planted somewhere between Citayzleat and Sundari. This, of course, puts him front and center for Pritkin's madcap scramble into the barracks, followed swiftly by the Big Bad Wolf himself. Heryn is PERFECTLY DRESSED, thank you, but there's no mistaking the sudden change in his physique even with his shirt on. His spine stiffens, and were he a cat, it'd probably have arched, too, shoulders tensing with the sudden narrow-eyed glare he's giving the bronzerider as the man glances them all over - some less subtly than others. Heryn's already moving to offer Pritkin a hand up, but is a little too late on the draw there, wincing for the mud splattered before eyes roll skyward, very much pleading with the skies or the ceiling or perhaps Faranth herself for things to not go just like last time. And yet… "We really do," is agreed in a dangerous tone of voice, and hopefully Ila's really really fast about that fleeing because Heryn's fist is already formed and flying to clock him upside that tilted head. Hooboy.

"Sir!" Cita apparently forgets that she's Not Sassing the riders, in face of CERTAIN DEATH. "A river! That's — that's, I mean." Jaelyn's probably not going to help, but for some reason it's the younger candidate that Cita turns to for help here, gesturing wide-eyed. "Dangerous?" HELP, MAN. Heryn's reassurances are met with what might be a desperate look. Tunnelsnake eating. "We're…going to eat tunnelsnakes?" Cita mumbles, voice small. Oh. Good. HELP, STILL. Only, apparently Pritkin needs help too. His arrival is met with astonishment, and, admittedly, the healer freezes. As soon as Ila'den shows up on-scene, though, Cita's eye sets to twitching. Some riders invading their barracks are apparently okay, but this specific one is so not cool. The candidate looks like she might like to jump on the bronzer, but Heryn totally beats her to the chase. For a moment, she's wide-eyed, but then she's trying to grab 'hold of Pritkin before he can be carted off. HANDS OFF. That one is hers. They're all hers, rar. The Weyrlingmasters? They're definitely there. Maybe. At least she's been distracted from her impending doom. One of them, anyways. "What did you do to him! Shells! Who the sharding — what —" Wow. Cita, moved to ragey speechlessnes. That's a first.

While no one is looking, Jaelyn is just going to go ahead and take a couple more very discreet steps backwards and away from D'ynl and Sundari, eyes darting to Cita as she looks his way. "Uh, I…" he founders uselessly in the face of her impending peril, another darting of eyes to the Weyrlingmasters and then back to the healer woman candidate. Survival trip? Rivers? Eating tunnelsnakes? While in the last three sevendays he had put on a notable amount of muscle, and actually had a nice sunkissed glow to his previous death-like pallor, the kid was still no where near resembling Bear Grylls. "I dun think…" No, no you don't. Another step taken backwards and he was almost withing the blessed sanctuary of his room, where nothing but good things happen and he can just wrap himself up in his blankets and wish away all the horror. Sadly, the horrors were not coming to an end, because about then Pritkin appears looking like he'd just escaped the seventh layer of hell, golden eyes immediately going straight to the unfortunately floundering guard candidate scrambling along the once nice and clean floor. Brows actually lift and his mouth opens to speak, but Ila'den appears on the scene and looks directly at him. Okay, maybe that wasn't an instantaneous singling out of him specifically, but there was eye contact and that combined with the horrified squeals of Pritkin is enough to send the computer crafter fleeing into his room, around the corner, and hopefully out of sight. Well, that is until just one eye is sliding out of the doorway to peek the widely grinning bronzerider's way, before it tracks to the others that still remain within the candidate barracks. The exchange between Ila'den and Heryn is watched, that single eye widening as he sees the events unfolding perhaps before anyone else does, "Heryn…" he starts to say, albeit either too late or too quiet(probably both to be perfectly honest), to be at all effective in warning against or stopping what was about to happen should that punch land.

D'nyl was entirely in his element. Until that happened. It's a testament to his past that when Pritkin comes running in, his hand goes to his knife, prepared to act, not shocked… at first. "WHAT IN THE NAME OF FARANTH'S EGGHOLE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, ILA'DEN?!?!" In the distance, the brassy scream that can only be Czaiath sharing his rider's displeasure can be heard echoing down the stone corridors and the bronzerider doesn't even flinch when that mud splatters across his face, but his jaw clenches in a way that promises death, "Ila'den, put him do- Scorch you, you sharding moron!" He's not even aware of Heryn's attempt to hit the former WeyrLeader. no, he just moves, putting himself between Ila and the doorway, his feet and hips settling into a stance well prepared to halt a charge with the smooth grace that indicates someone with a LOT of combat training. Upside, Cita's sass doesn't get a response? "STOP." His voice rings with authority right now, but he doesn't really expect Ila to listen.

Sundari just laughs at the talk of eating tunnelsnakes. "Hey… I'll even let him show you how to gut them, how's that?" Though everything is about to go down out of control rather quickly and she looks to Pritkin and just blinks. There is a moment of worry and she is sending out an alert to Irk before she catches sight of Ila'den following in after the poor kid and just watching him wide eyed a few times. Mud is flung and splattered and she says nothing over it as she is turning to face them more. "Honestly… you have got to be joking me right now Ila'den." The WLM is not pleased about the state of things. "What..wait… drop him dammit! Let him go RIGHT now!!" Is said and she is following, good hand balling into a tight fist before, one D'nyl is heading for the door and two Heryn is heading in for the sudden attack on the crazy Ila at the moment. While D'nyl deals with Ila, she is moving to try and get a hold of Heryn. For a small thing she is quick, moving to grab hold of Heryn's free arm and yank it behind him and works on dragging him backwards a few steps from Ila/Pritkin in the process. She grew up with a bunch of siblings, and has picked up a few things overthe past turns so bring it! "That isn't helping Heryn." She all but hisses at him.

Despite the fact that Ila'den is still layered in thickly corded muscle (if one can get him out of his riding leathers to have a gander), he is not as young nor as spry as he used to be; it doesn't help matters that he's weighed down by a struggling Pritkin to boot - so no, he's /not/ fast enough to avoid Heryn's physical manifestation of /pain/ when it catches him right in the side of his tilted head. Ila'den /does/ have the good sense to try and keep from either A: Dropping Pritkin or B: Dropping himself /and/ Pritkin, so the bronzerider does this horribly awkward hobble as he tries to regain his footing, fails, and ends up slamming his back against the wall to catch himself. This also slams poor Pritkin into the wall, who loses his breath on a terribly painful sounding wheeze followed by choking gasps as he tries to remember how to work his diaphragm. Then Cita is there, all handsy, and Ila'den is pushing at the healers hands with something bordering on amusement despite the fact that he's just been punched and the proverbial hounds of hell are probably on his heels. "Stop that," he says, and he doesn't sound at /all/ put off by her efforts to save Pritkin. And then D'nyl is breaking out his of reverie as he continues to practically playfully (for him) push away Cita's hands. D'nyl's lifemate's scream is met with another echoing scream - from one ridiculously violent bronze that suits his rider only too well. Grey eyes blink with the audacity to look innocent despite the fish-out-of-water candidate on his shoulders and D'nyl (and Heryn's, and Cita's and Sunny's obvious rage). "Me?" he asks D'nyl in response to what he's doing, still fending off Cita valiantly. "What I want." Wasn't that obvious? This is followed by a gentle, "Space, little bird?" for Cita, who gets a very gentle push away from the former weyrleader. He doesn't expect her to listen, but with how quickly things are going south, he doesn't want her to get hurt in the event that somebody else comes at him and she gets caught up in the scuffle. And then Sundari is joining in and the bronzerider is giving her a long-suffering sigh. "Fine, fine," he says, depositing Pritkin onto to floor. The candidate, instead of scrambling away, hunches forward still trying to catch his breath. The final one to get Ila's attention? Jae, to which Ila whispers a good natured: "Boo." How do any of you take this man seriously? "Can I go now?" He sounds /bored/.

It's very much for the best that Sundari grabs him, because even if Heryn did hear Jaelyn, it definitely wouldn't have been enough. No, it takes his arm being yanked behind him to stop him from following up on the first punch, and even then, it's a near thing - a body once in motion tends to stay in motion, and the bartender jerks forward before his momentum is checked and then halted by the bluerider. He probably could give her a run for her money, but ultimately Sunny doesn't deserve any rage. Besides, D'nyl is there to block the door and is frankly a lot scarier than six feet of bartender, Pritkin is dropped, and he's not a hopeless maniac, really. He just has really shitty tolerance and what is probably a crater-sized chip on his shoulder. "Helping?!" He will, however, fix Sundari with an incredulous look over one shoulder. "What, exactly, am I supposed to be helping with?!" It's not mean, or rude, or hissed; he honestly doesn't understand what part of a candidate being carted away on Ila'den's shoulder he wasn't supposed to have that sort of reaction to. "Certainly ain't going to stand by while he makes off with whoever the hell he wants to with no consequence." That's said with a little more heat, something of an old accent hitting his tone as steely blue eyes snap to fixate on Ila'den for his pushing of Cita. That seems harmless enough, but his gaze narrows heatedly anyways, still letting the weyrlingmaster hold him back and— yeah, there's why. That whispered 'boo' sends Heryn back into tension again, and hopefully Sunny's hold is good, because while he isn't about throw another punch now that he's been reminded weyrlingstaff is there, he definitely pulls against the bluerider's grip with a growl, clearly meaning to intercept if Ila tries again. Doesn't seem likely, with his sudden boredom, but Heryn isn't going to wait to find out.

Cita is so done. Once more, she's twitching a glance Jaelyn-wards, this time for his muttered attempt to stop the towering-crabby bartender. The healer throws her hands up helplessly in what might be a wordless response, maybe-possibly accidentally smacking poor Ila in the process, but honestly she's got nothing. Sunny is there to hold their fellow back, and — the bronzer is pushing at her. Batting? His gentle admonishment actually does stop Cita; she gapes at the rider, completely thrown. What. "What." She repeats that aloud just for clarity, but really there isn't any. "Space." Well, she's broken. Good. A full reboot takes a moment, and she's shaking her head, frowning warily and backing up. "I. Yeah. Sure. Pritkin, hold on. I'm just. Going to get you some…towels." She squints at Ila for a long moment, but honestly, the poor guy probably can't make a break for it with her candidates at this point. TRAPPED. Heryn and Jae get another version of the squinty-look, and Cita jerks her head towards poor Pritkin, like obviously she's got this. Healers. "Help him while I find the things." She mutters, eye still twitching a little, and then she flees. Yeah, it's definitely a fleeing, no dignity about it. Save her, med-kit!

It was chaos, absolute and terrifying chaos. People were running, and screaming as if the weyr was on fire…well all except Jaelyn. The computer crafter did not join the fray of people attempting to save Pritken from the insanity that was Ila'den, rather seeming much more comfortable to be ducked behind the entryway to his room over there. Heryn hadn't heard him, go figure, and so the punch lands and sends the intended target and his quarry into a wall. There might of been a slight wince from Jae for that one, but seeing as the attention presently was entirely and rightfully elsewhere it's missed. Cita had even gone after the mud-soaked bronzerider, and his brows lift higher as Ila'den bats her hands away so easily. D'nyl was blocking the door, and Sundari was trying to hold back a guy who probably weighed more than everyone in there combined in pure muscle. Yeah, he was going to go ahead and just stay right where he was. Though, he startles when all of a sudden Ila'den's attention falls on him again. That good natured whisper? A single blink is the initial response before his one-eyed gaze past the door jam narrows to all but a slit and he very slowly lifts up the hand attached to the end of his tattooed shoulder. All but one finger, curled in against his balled fist. Boo, indeed. Now that his heckles were up and the adrenaline was pumping, Jaelyn has cause to get involved. Mostly because tiny bluerider was likely about to get tossed like a bar-hopping sorority sister from the mechanical bull at the Texas Roadhouse. He's quiet about it though, putting himself between Ila'den and Heryn while at the same time completely ignoring the suddenly bored bronzerider. Wordlessly, he places a single hand flush against Heryn's chest and locks golden eyes to his blue-grey, his expression back to being completely stoic. Only if this stops the raging bull in a china shop that is the Ista bred bartender, does he toss the fleeing Cita a nod and goes to help Pritkin up if the guy was even conscious.

D'nyl's fingers twitch, yearning to grab the former Weyrleader by his lapels and scream in his face (or something more violent). He doesn't want to scare the candidates any more than they already are, though, so he forces himself to remain calm. Ish. he stalks up to Ila'den and grabs him, hoisting him to his feet with his own stash of muscles, snarling softly, "I get it. Your weyrmate cracked off and your life sucks. But it's time to grow up." Ila'den isn't really being given a choice in the matter as D'nyl swings him around and starts to match him towards the door. "Candidates, make sure everyone is alright. Ila, I can't let this go anymore. I'm going to have to bring you before the leadership this time. You could have seriously hurt him." And out they go.

Sundari actually tightens her hold upon Heryn's arm, and twists slightly to the side to try and pull him down lower. "Enough." Is said with a firm tone, anger is bubbling up in the bluerider, she is beyond pissed right now. "I understand how you feel right now but you have just crossed a line Heryn." If he thought she was pissed over pillows just wait until she is done with him now. "D'nyl and I will deal with Ila'den, do you understand me or do I really need to drive my point across?" Her voice is low, thin trying to prove a point to the much larger bartender, one she is not afraid to throw her weight around, and two this is not his fight. "Now please, check on Pritkin, we need to help get him to the infirmary." Then and only then will she let go of his arm, a soft pat is given to his shoulder while she moves around him and is heading towards Ila'den. "No, you can't just leave. I don't give a damn how you feel right now Ila'den. You just crossed a line, one that I refuse to over look. These Candidate's are under my watch, and I refuse to have the likes of your spoiled ass tromping around and thinking you can do whatever the hell you want." Talk about pissed off? She is right now. Irkevalath is landing in the bowl, letting out a rather loud screaming warning call that makes one think of a lion's echoing roar. Oh there are plenty of other things she wants to say but right now is not the time. Her gaze lingers on D'nyl for a long moment while he goes about hauling Ila'den up and drag him out so to speak. There is just a moment of worry before she turns to look back to the others and moves to check on Pritkin as well.

Ila'den is trying to /protect/ Cita - so yeah, pretty harmless. Heryn's reaction to Ila'den's 'Boo', however, has the bronzerider turning grey eyes onto the bartender and raising a brow before a muted smile finds its way across his lips. "/Interesting/," he breathes, but he doesn't elaborate on why, exactly, he finds the interaction so intriguing. Heryn /did/ just punch him for trying to kidnap Pritkin, after all. /Obviously/ the guy is a loose cannon. While Ila'den tends to his jaw, he once again turns his attention onto the suddenly broken Cita and pauses. Her blink is returned with a blink of his own, and then a smile - a smile that is /far/ from rude, or crazy, or anything that might just confirm what everybody's thinking: Ila'den is a /madman/. His smile is actually gentle, albeit amused, and fleeting once he catches sight of Jaelyn's well placed finger that, instead of inciting /rage/, causes the bronzerider to start /laughing/. It's kind of rude, actually, but Ila'den just has the type of personality that seems to find endless humor in situations that just aren't funny. And then Jae puts himself in the way, and he looks at Cita to say something, but the little healer has already used her good sense and run away. Ila'den blinks after her, and then looks down at Pritkin, who is taking Jaelyn's offered help, right as D'nyl comes to muscle him around. If the rider's words have any effect on him they don't show - immediately. Before the younger man can muscle him away, Ila'den's using all of that strength in his body to lunge forward - but at Pritkin. One booted foot slams into the wall beside the candidate's head, just above Jaelyn's arm, and Ila'den doesn't sound like he's joking at all (for once) when he growls out, "Stay away from my baby." And then he's letting D'nyl do all the muscling around that makes him feel all manly - though he does give the former renegade a bright smile and offer up a rather cheery sounding exchange of words that starts with an 'F' and ends with 'you'. And then Sundari, calling him /spoiled/ and getting all up in his business. Ila'den actually pauses, digging in his heels to take the bluerider in, and then he /laughs/. It's not a nice laugh, either. Though he /does/ say: "Give the man a break, /friend/. He was protecting somebody." Not that it will help. Regardless, he's gone. Pritkin will just stand there and drip at everybody.

Heryn doesn't go lower. He takes the pain of the twist and he bears it, jaw locking with the effort to stay upright, but somehow he manages. Blue-grey eyes might go distant, cold, if not for the hand on his chest. There goes that nonverbal communication again, jaw setting hard when storm meets sun, a whole hell of a lot of emotion thrown into that look for Jaelyn before, eventually, he breaks it off to stare at the floor, expression closing off as he exerts control. "I understand you perfectly, ma'am." He doesn't, actually - some part of him will probably never understand being told to back down from a perceived injustice - but he understands the promise behind her tone if nothing else. He relaxes to show it, shoulders dropping lower still once his arm is released, fingers flexing to ease lingering pain rather than in any sort of aggression as the bluerider moves off. Heryn pulls Jaelyn's hand from his chest, if only to give it a squeeze before dropping it, and perhaps wisely chooses to go offer Citayzleat help rummaging through her med kit, ignoring the definite sound of a boot colliding with a wall. The sound just might make him flinch a bit, though, and start to muttering low, unkind things for the Healer's ears only. Eventually, though, he'll be back to lend a shoulder and help Pritkin off to the infirmary, if only to disappear the second the guard is in the door. Where he'll stop, nobody knows!

What does Jaelyn do when Ila'den launches himself at Prikin like that? He shifts his body subtly in order to shield the half rescued guard candidate from the ire of the half-crazed bronzerider, his only response to that kick coming within a hair's breath of his arm being a dangerously narrowed glare in Ila'den's direction. Not that he'll care of course, but he goes ahead and does it anyway. Y'know, because the wrath of a fifteen turn old boy is oh so scary. Ahem. He'll just keep on glaring as D'lyn and Sundari drag Ila'den away, and only when all three riders are gone from the barracks does he stop and flick his attention Heryn's way again. Despite the fact his facial expression doesn't betray a single thought or feeling, if he had any (other than those delightful bouts of rage), his gaze follows the bartender's exit as well. It lingers there long after he's gone before he finally turns back to Pritkin, "Yer a pain in mah ass." he growls, coiling an arm around the older candidate's torso and starts hauling him towards the infirmary. "….and yer fuckin' heavy!!" Grumble, grumble.

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