Adventure Awaits! AKA Yaromil is Searched!

Characters Alexa, Yaromil
Synopsis Alexa and Yaromil talk about gardens, choices, and the ultimate adventure: Candidacy.
Out-of-Character Date January 27, 2020

Igen Weyr - Hydroponic Gardens
Vibrant sights and smells greet visitors to a lush desert oasis that oughtn't exist here in the crater of Igen Weyr. Everywhere one looks, lush greenery waves lazily, hiding growing lights and the fixtures which give off the subtle lighting. The cavern, a natural bubble in the rock, is mostly round - there is no closure to the outside, and there's a tapering off at the back before exploding into another bubble further back. One can just see that the next "room" leads to yet another room even further back.

There is no set aisle through the plants. Walkways meander here and there, sand heaped along the floor and kept warm by whatever device gives the Hatching Grounds their warmth. The heat is not as intense here, but the mist generated by clever automatic sprayers lends humidity to the air. Tubs of various depths and sizes are scattered higgeldy piggeldy, and the plants in them seem to have no rhyme or reason. Aromatic scents give the hint that kitchen herbs and useful vegetables have been scattered among the decorative flowers and trees.

The chain of rooms are obviously a newer addition, perhaps only a few decades old. Insects buzz about everywhere, and there is a quiet twitter of avains and firelizards, who seem quite at home here among the vegetation. Near the door, a wooden rack holds a few pairs of shoes, encouraging visitors to go barefoot.


Even in the winter, Igen's gardeners know that the best time to be out and about in a garden is in the early morning. Unfortunately, it's not early or morning and Yaromil definitely isn't a gardener but none of those facts seemed to have stopped the trader from kneeling next to a container with some sort of dwarf fruit tree and literally poking his hands around in it. While his sleeves are rolled up, the rest of his clothes are still clean enough that even from the back it's probably clear the curly haired figure does not quite belong.

Alexa *loves* the garden. And is it any wonder? It's got GREEN things! Growing things! A very distinct lack of sand! So when she's not taking over the Living Caverns with copious books and paperwork, she's totally taking over the gardens with them. Arms full of Things To Do, it's the curly-haired not-gardener that catches her attention, interest piqued at all that poking around in the dirt. "Ahem," comes without even attempting to sound like she's clearing her throat. "You might want to buy the poor tree a drink before you get up under there."

"The soil is still very moist," comes Yaromil's very literal answer. He apparently has zero shame for being caught red handed with the vegetation since he continues to poke around a bit before he's stands up very careful. The reason for the care? His hands are cupped before him and something pale is wiggling in there! "I didn't know the sandworms could grow outside of sand." It's in the name, right? "Or get so fat…" That part might be because it's actually one of the sandworms Southern grubby cousins.

Alexa might have to press her lips tight on that one, but she's not gonna touch it with a ten foot pole. "Mmhm. Yes. Because they're irrigated." As for little wriggling things? Alexa might not be squeamish, but there's definitely a nose wrinkle and a distinct lack of disinterest when he offers it up. "Yeah, uh, I dunno about all that," she tells him, giving him a little hand-flap that falls far short of it's potential given she's holding an armload of stuff. "But uhm. I'm not sure that's a sandworm? I think it's some sort of… thingy," the technical term, "that they use to help make the garden grow." Her brother would be so disappointed right now.

Clearly Alexa is the evil twin and Yaromil just needs to search out her brother to find ALL THE ANSWERS. But alas, he doesn't even know the brother exists or knows things and so he just gives the goldrider a look that's filled with as much disappointment as he can muster. The grub gets a little bit more attention and a gesture that looks an awful lot like an affectionate pet before he returns the creature back to its pot and tree. "It looks an awful lot like a sandworm." But there's no sand, so he's confused, but Alexa's perilous bookstack gets his attention now. "Do you need any help?"

Ask Alek about plants and prepare for some very lengthy lectures. Ones that Alexa has clearly spent her whole life ignoring, if the utter lack of plant knowledge is anything to go buy. Disappointed looks just get a Cheshire grin in return, even if the grub-petting might have that grin wobbling a bit. Ew. Bugs. "Won't name a runner, but pets a bug?" She's definitely judging. Of course, then he's being all nice and offering to help and… "Yeah, probably," she admits, even if there's a stubborn streak that wants to DENY, DENY, DENY! "If you don't mind." And if he's amenable to it, she'll happily divvy up that stack until they're both carrying equal parts. "What do you think of the garden? Told you we had one."

Yaromil raises an eyebrow defiantly. "I didn't name it, did I?" But even if he is ready to argue, he did offer to help and she's admitting she needs it so his hands are open for whatever books Alexa will hand him. And he may try his best to finagle at least one book extra into his stack, for pride or chivalry or whatever other nebulous concept someone might want to attribute to it. "For a while, I thought you lied." A small smile does creep into his mouth after this. "This wasn't the first of Igen's gardens I was directed to." For some reason when he asked for directions to gardens, nobody seemed to look at his face and think he wanted the plants one.

"Tch," comes with an exaggerated and rather sarcastic hair-flip… that isn't nearly as effective given her hands are full and all Alexa can really do is throw her head around and hope her hair behaves. It doesn't. But no matter, she'll carry on with a quick, "I don't lie," as she goes about leading the way deeper into the garden. "I mean, okay. Maybe I'll exaggerate upon occasion," she concedes. "But I'd never outright lie to someone. That's just rude. And against code or something. I was a harper, once." And maybe that means something? "But I'll be honest, I didn't believe it either, the first time I heard about it. "And it's nothing like the forests of Fort or the tropical gardens at Ista. But, I like it." A glance back and she wonders, "You staying in the Weyr now? Cave in the desert not doing it for you?"

The mention of harpers gets a dismayed half-grunt from Yaromil. "There was a harper in the not-a-garden-garden, too. She tried to say that a bar could be a garden even if it didn't have plants. That should be against some sort of code." Word code, it should be serious. As for the other places, he looks about at the vegetation and nods. "I haven't seen anywhere outside of Igen, but this is green. And I like it." As for where he's staying, he shrugs. Luckily shrugging is a gesture still pretty easy to do while being a burdenbeast for a mobile library. "I move back and forth. Winter's a good time for it and the Weyr's in the middle." So it's been a stopping point as he's traversed from one hold to another and back. Traders got a trade after all.

"Ah yeah. Those types are not my type." Of harper? "But I have heard of some people with rock gardens," she adds, even if Alexa's scrunched-up nose and tone of voice says exactly how she feels about that sort of thing. "The Moonshine Garden is nice if you're looking for a drink or a relaxed atmosphere. Serious lack of trees, though." She'll at least agree on that point. "Not sure where it got the name." She could probably find out, if she cared enough to investigate. "I like it too," she agrees, giving the garden a glance and a grin. Their destination seems to be a small patch of grass just off the path; plenty of space to spread out and not get in anyone's way. It also immediately sees Alexa kicking off her shoes and ignoring where they land in favor of walking barefoot. "Doesn't that get tiring?" she wonders, kneeling to set her books in a little pile before reaching to collect those that he carried for her. "Going back and forth all over the place?"

Yaromil could tell at least one harper's version of how Moonshine Garden is called a garden but that would be conceding a win to Tejra and so the lad stays silent on that particular subject, although his brow creases more than usual at the mention of ROCK gardens and lets out a mutter about Crazy Weyr People under his breath. When they finally come to the reading destination, he'll carefully stack the books in a pile, giving a shrug as he's still crouched and organizing. Did Alexa want her reading alphabetized? It's definitely getting alphabetized. "Anything can be tiring if you do enough of it. But riding around on whatever errands my da or uncle set sure beats staying home and digging another cistern."

Alexa highly approves of alphabetized books. Even if the organization seems to have her side-eyeing Yaromil once again and pressing her lips together; like maybe she's privy to a joke he can't hear. "Maybe," she admits. "But I mean literally tiring. As in, aren't you exhausted? I can barely spend an hour in that sun without feeling fried." She doesn't exactly have the complexion for it, to begin with. "And don't give me that nonsense about proper clothes. I totally know how to dress the part!" Snort. "So what errand are you on this time? More salt selling? You still don't seem the blackmarket type, so I'm going to assume it's all legit." Cause she definitely has experience with blackmarket types >.>

"I was born to Igen," Yaromil waves his hand as if those five words explain it all. Between the lean and wiry build and the tanned skin, he certainly looks like he was born for the desert, maybe even just sculpted from it's sand. For his business, there's another small smile as she rightfully guesses he's not the renegading sort. "Not salt, or not all salt at least. I have two sisters." He has three actually, but the youngest doesn't count. "They're getting to an age where someone's got to see if there's anybody else eligible around." And maybe carry some letters about negotiations back and forth between families and cotholds.

"Must be in the blood, then," decides Alexa with a grin. "I'm Telgar-born. Give me snow any day over this maddening heat." But she's Igen now, even if the sun doesn't suit her. With the books neatly stacked and shoes kicked off, Alexa lounges back on her hands and looks perfectly ready to nap rather than study. Of sisters and eligibility, she'll say not a thing, though there's a tightness to that smile that may speak volumes. Instead, she'll ask, "But you don't have to do it, right? Like, if you decided something else suited you, you could do that instead? What if you wanted to be… I dunno. A smith. You could do that, right? Or say you did want to travel North. You could do that, right? Don't you ever want to do something that's for you?"

Yaromil shivers at the mention of snow. He's never seen it, but as fascinated as he is at precipitation and liquids the frozen sort sounds like a nightmare to this Igen native. And then he shrugs about what he has to do. "I have a brother. He's just as capable as me. Some would say more so, since he's older. He has his own wife to tend to and a small daughter as well." So Yaromil gets to be designated errand boy. It works out for everybody. "I'm a bit too old to take up smithing? Apprentices are yay high, no?" He raises a hand to about chest high, an example that would probably work better if he was actually standing up. "Maybe one day I will go North. Or South, even." There's possiblities.

"Dunno if height's the deciding factor on that," teases Alexa with a grin. "And true, you're a bit… older than the normal apprentice. But it was just an example." That she'll wave away just as quickly. "My point was that… I mean, don't you have things you want to DO in your life? Or are you just gonna run back and forth forever? The desert is nice," she'll add, as if that one word sums up all that Igen is. A nice desert. "But… if you could do anything what would you do?" Inquiring minds want to know! A tip of her head; another little press of her lips and that 'I know something you don't know' sort of almost-smirk, and she flops back onto the grass to stare at the domed ceiling instead. "You're not married I take it? You said your brother has a wife and kids — or, kid I guess. But you don't?"

If little Yaromil was a scrawny as mostly-grown Yaro still is, that might have been another reasons any harper visiting his cothold never recommended him to join the smiths! He rubs a hand along his jaw as Alexa starts tossing out those serious questions and instead of looking at her stares very intently at a very large frond right next to his head. "There's a lot of desert to see." Even with all his riding back and forth, he knows he hasn't seen it all. "Anything? Bred runners, maybe." And still not give them names. Especially not those ridiculous names like Majestic Beauty or whatever. "Or find a boat? Study the stars?" He shrugs again as he reaches out to fiddle with the fern frond in front of him. "There's a lot of things I could do, but I stayed. You're right, I'm not married. I'm a second son." A bit superfluous really for as small a cothold as his family lives on, especially with the multiple sisters to marry off as well.

There's a tip of her head and a silent study of the man not-as-silently studying the fern. And while Alexa is prone to smiles and sass, there's an understanding there as well. Maybe she got to pursue her passion, but that doesn't mean she doesn't empathize with those who might not have the chance. "You could still do that stuff," she says. "Study the stars. Get a boat. Study the stars from a boat, even, though I'm not sure if breeding runners would be possible at sea." It's a lame attempt at a joke. "Okay so… No wife. No kids. And an older brother to take over the business. So… What if you stayed at the Weyr? What if you could become a candidate for Raaneth's clutch?" Oh, so innocently asked even if she's not-so-innocently watching him now. "Would you do it?"

Sea-runners just don't work as well as sea-horses, it's true. Yaromil lets out a little laugh and abandons his fern study to turn back towards Alexa. "Boats are expensive. I'm pretty sure you can't just get a boat." Certainly not in Igen. And not with the meager amount of marks he might have tucked away. He does give the goldrider a very suspicious glare. "That's an awful lot of ifs. Does the Weyr not have enough of it's own to stand? There was a time it would have been anyone's duty to say yes if offered the chance." A time of Thread and constant worry of death and other dangers that is thankfully long since past.

"S'not about enough to stand, it's about the right type standing." Nice and cryptic. Or maybe not? But Alexa is in serious-mode as well, pushing up onto her elbows to tip her head and peer at Yaromil. "There was," she agrees. "And that time has passed. But we still got eggs, and we still need Candidates. And you just said you've got no wife or kids or inheritance." Okay so, technically he didn't say that last bit, but Alexa's just gonna kinda take the whole 'older brother' thing and run with it. Her negotiating skills probably require some polishing. "A dragon's not a boat, but it's definitely another kind of freedom. A different sort of life, if you want it." A frown and she adds, "Can't promise anyone a dragon, but I can offer the opportunity to try. So, no more 'if's," she declares. "I'm asking. Will you stand as a Candidate for Raaneth's clutch?"

"Depends on your definition of boat," Yaromil dares enough to make a joke. Transportation duties could be might similiar to those of a boat although dragons have advantage of the air and between. And the no inheritance thing she's running with probably hits a close enough mark as he winces a bit as she lists out what he lacks, but he doesn't object. Instead, he just runs a hand through his hair as he considers. "As a kid, I used to listen to the harper tales. The ones of adventures. Never really seemed a way to plan for one, they just sort of happened." And the smile is back as it dawns that this might just be a happening. "I'd be honored. The salt can wait another couple turns." It's just a mineral after all, and a preservative one at that!

Alexa wasn't actually holding her breath or anything, but there's a little whoosh of air all the same when he finally answers. Who knew asking such things could be so stressful! "Yeah? Awesome!" Grinning, she pushes up to full sitting now, not quite bouncing but looking darn close to it. "Alright, so… well. Next step really is moving you into the barracks. I suppose you'll probably need a day or two to maybe sort things out? I mean, do you?" She's not sure. "And I'll make sure to find a knot for you — maybe I should carry some? Hm. Although, how often will I actually find someone who needs one… never mind, I'll figure that out later. Oh! And I have to write this down! Gotta keep track and stuff." Records. They don't write themselves! "But yeah, okay, I mean… Yay! This is great! Do you have any questions? Although," she adds, because clearly she's on a roll right now, "You'll probably get a rundown on things from the Weyrlingmasters once you're officially moved in and stuff."

Yaromil blinks as it really was that easy and then there's a whole rush of questions and half-instructions to listen to. "I could use a day to return my runner." Poor Fish. "And another two to ride back by wagon?" There's a bit of an inquisitive glance over at the goldrider if that's the way of things. As for questions, he shakes his head. "Count three months and more?" He remembers some of the old, old songs, though clearly the weyrlingmasters will have that refresher ready of rules and things.

"Oh yeah, that's fine. Or like, if the place you're going is somewhere we can find, I can send a dragonrider to pick you up? Faster trip back." As long as the dragonrider knows where he's going. "But you got time. I mean, the eggs were only just laid so… no real rush? But kind of a rush. I mean you definitely don't want to dawdle." The barrage of words is apparently not about to stop. Alexa grins, a little, "Yup," offered for the old Harper song. "So, I mean, you can take a day to say good bye and stuff. If you need to," she adds. "But you don't want to take too long. And when you get back, you can ask just about anyone for the Headwoman or the Weyrlingmaster, or even me," she adds after a moment of thought. "And we can show you to the barracks and get you settled. I'll make sure they know you're coming."

"They should know. Maybe. It's Salis Plana Cothold." It's firmly in Igen's territory where during the rainy season there will be a brief river that disappears not too long after the rains end. Yaromil can provide more details if needed on the exact location while they negotiate an exact time pick up. He gives a nod at the mention of not dwadling. "Dragging out goodbyes never ends well." So he'll take that offered dragon rider and swoop out as soon as he's dropped off the runner and gathered what few things he owns that wasn't already with him. "And then I'll come back." And finally, there's a true grin on his face as the adventure might actually be real.

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