12:44 AM
Logfile from 1G-Shel-DF.

Candidate Barracks (#816J)
This is a large room with row after row of 'cots' for the Candidates of Fort Weyr's Hatchings to sleep on during their stay at Fort Weyr. Depending on the time of day and 'year' this room oscillates between an utter disaster and a prim and properly kept room. The residents of this room are always on the lookout for sudden headwoman or dragonrider appearances, scattering to clean up the major messes when someone indeed manifests.
Near the curtain, against the wall, is a large bulletin board and, underneath it, a slate with the list of current 'occupants'. There's also a 'chores' list, and a life-sized cutout of a suitably-dressed 'example' candidate.
You see SpaceVixen, Pretty Rock, and Old glow here.
Obvious exits:
Curtain
I don't understand that.
You pull aside the curtain and step out into the caverns.
Lower Caverns (#1556J)
This central room of Fort Weyr's lower caverns is, while huge, nonetheless dwarfed by the main cavern to the northeast.
Stairs to one side lead up to a balcony that encircles the vaulted cavern; off the balcony lie the offices and private quarters of some staff, as well as into the spare rooms for Weyr guests. On the floor level, a number of folk operate looms underneath the balcony, while some of the children of the weyr play games nearby. Other archways lead further into the mountain.
You see Reiya here.
Quivan is here.
Obvious exits:
Main Cavern STairs Infirmary General Dormitory Candidates Baths
Storage Caverns Work Area
Quivan knocks on the frame of the door to the candidates barracks. He's a bit late, but hopefully noone's sat on that cot yet. "'Scuse me?" He calls in tenatively. "Came to fix the cot unless someone else's already done it?" He knows full well he's not alowed in there without permission.
Shel glances up from the seat on her bed carving again, spotting Quivan she grins suddenly and nods "Certianly Quivan, Sir." she points to the bed next to hers and grins "No one's sat in it yet, I think they must be avoiding me or something."
Quivan relaxes slightly and grins, missing her calling him 'sir' entirely with his relief. "Oh good, Shel, ma'am..." Though there's no joking his voice, the two words just roll together as if they are her name in one. He takes out a small pot of glue and some twine as he kneels by the cot. "the one with t' purple blanket you said?" He calls back at Shel. If he were a dog, his tail would be wagging.
Shel quickly shakes her head as that is her bed. "Noo... That's my bed Quivan, sir." she tilts her head looking at the blanket on the other bed, "Although I'm not sure what color that would be." she chuckles slightly before quickly making a move to sweep up the wood shavings she's left on the floor between the two.
Quivan ohs softly and rocks back on his heels. "yours? then that one it is?" Indicating another one a bit farther down the line, slightly confused. His eyes catch the woodshavings with equal curiosity. This is getting more complicated by the moment! He gathers his things ready to move on. "Or should I sit on them all until I find it?"
Shel pats the one she's sitting on, the corner bed "This ones mine. and lifting the mattress on the one next to it she points to the broken piece "That's the broken one Quivan, sir." she grins slightly at the sir.
Quivan relaxes slightly and scurries down to the next one. "But you said yesterday the one with the purple blanket..." He mutters and brushes the glue into the frayed joint and then presses the pieces back together, grimacing at the rough splinters as the glue dries. From his pocket he takes out a small file with a very fine grain on it staying away fromt eh glue innitially.
Shel giggles lightly for a moment. Shifting in her bed to make sure she is out of the way, carefully moving the carving knife and half carved block of wood back out of the way so she doesn't sit on it. "I said the one next to the one with the purple blanket." she smiles and shrugs, easy mistake to make.
Quivan Looks up and sticks his tongue out at her before quickly looking back down, posture saying 'you didn't see that' loud and clear. The glue dried quickly and was filed away, the crack still obvious and Quivan frowns, getting out his belt knife, clumbsy by comparison to Shel's carving knife and starts working at the wood.
Shel didn't see it, nope she had been turned the other way reaching for the knife and block of wood again. Watching his handling of the older knife she looks at hers a moment and sighs for a moment "Quivan, sir?" she says to get his attention before gingerly proffering the use of the better knife to him.
Quivan looks up at the knife and blinks slightly. "Yes, Shel, ma'am?" On the wood of the leg the faint outlines of a bird or a firelizard or something with wings curls across the glue streak as if it were a current of air. Currently little more than the curve of the wings and dividing line of the body. "May I?" He puts his own down and holds his hand out for hers, but doesn't take it from her.
Shel she nods as she hands over the knife "Just be careful." she can't help but to add, knowing he'll use it well, but having seen many who don't know, one just has to add.
Quivan takes the knife gingerly and turns back to his work. The carving remains rough, but not painfully so, ametuer rather than childish, the line of the neck seems to indicate a firelizard over a bird. His delicate little strokes smooth out the glue just a little more, without indenting it so it looks like something at least semi-deliberate. It would never make a harper's display list, but concealed the patch with something more than childish scrawl.
Shel watches in interest of another's style of carving, nodding as he covers techniques she knows, and ohhing at the occasional different twist that he uses. "Very nice Quivan." she finally says
Quivan looks up and chuckles. "Than you, Shell." Droping the 'ma'am' as she drops the sir, even if it may only be temporary. He offers her the knife back, handle first. "Just something to make it look less... battered. s'not art but it works."
Quivan chuckles. "Thanks... ah.. what were you carving?" He asks cautiously. "'cause I saw the woodchips an' was rather wonderin'. With you havin' that nice knife'n all." He hesitates and catches his breath and tries to finish concisely. "I was wonderin' what you were usin' it on."
Shel reaches for the chunky block of wood with mostly random looking gauges in it. "well not sure yet." she just fiddles with the block. "I hadn't decided yet."
Quivan ponders. "Well... you're here and you're not home... so carve something that reminds you of home? YOu said southern boll? maybe fruit? never been to bowl so dunno much about it I'm afraid."
Shel cracks up laughing for a moment, falling back into her bed, almost on the piece of wood. Before straightening again she just smirks, barely controlling her laughter. "I've carved Chickens before." and at that she just cracks up laughing again, tears starting to roll down her face before she suddenly sobers again and just shrugs.
Quivan looks completely lost. "What do chickens have to do with Southern Boll?" He asks innocently, honestly having no clue about Clyde. He settles on the floor by her cot. "Care to tell the story?" Almost eager look.
Shel snickers slightly again feet tucked up under her indian style. "Well there once was a chicken named Clyde." she smirks again. "At Southern Boll, we have a chicken that lives in our Garden Hall and his name is Clyde. He's an interesting fella, but see the funny part is that last time I visited up this way some 5 turns ago, I carved little wooden chickens for all the candidates." she shrugs slightly again "wasn't a big deal or anything."
Quivan snickers. "No, but it makes a good story, so you've got a pet chicken? And you carved him for everyone?" He grins. "I could get you some really nice paint and we could make we... a shrine to clyde on one of the spare beds?" Bizzarre random ideas strike again.
Shel shakes her head again, surprisingly sober from the previous bought of laughter. "No, thats okay, don't think I need to carve him this time." she picks up the block again and pulls out the knife, starting to pick at the block again slowly making it into a more of an oval shape.
Quivan nods semi-solemnly and cocks his head to one side. "But tell me if you want paints for whatever you /do/ end up carving and I'll see what I can scrounge for you." Scrounging being something any good handyman must be adept at. Afterall no one ever wants to get caught raiding the suply caverns.
Shel waves a knife filled hand for a moment, being careful where it waves. "Oh don't worry, I can't paint worth beans so I just leave it just the wood." getting a small glimmer of determination she suddenly changes what she was doing midstroke and starts carving the front 1/5 piece of the oval into a totally sperate piece of wood.
Quivan watches with fascination. "I have a file for polishing it once you get done?" He offers slightly hopefully. "Or I could sneak off and try and paint it myself once you're done. I'm not sure it'd be an improvement. Not sure if I can really paint either."
Shel ohhs and ponders a moment "Got any wood stain?" she ponders a moment, the larger piece taking a little better form into what could be the back half of a fishes tail.
Quivan nods. "Got some really dark varnish and stain from fixin' the bar the other day. Isn't really enough to put back so I kinda kept it." Packrat that he is. Blue eyes look up at Shel curiously watching the emerging form with something resembling delight. "I can go run and get it for you if you like?"
Shel chuckles slightly, trying to get a bit of the humor back. the rough shape of the back 4/5 of the fish can clearly be seen now, so she puts that down for a moment and gets the smaller piece, glancing back and forth between the two getting them to match each other as if they should fit together. "I think if this is going to be stained we'd better do it outside of the barracks." she glances around to the couple of sleeping forms lying about.
Quivan nods and chuckles. "The bowl's usually good, don't like doing it in the living cavern unless I'm working on something that I can take out 'cause most people object to the smell with their food..."
Shel noddles continuing to work on the smaller piece, starting to get into the slightly more delicate carving, the shape easily resembling a fish head now. "Sounds good."
Quivan leans in a bit closer. "are you going to be needing my glue?" He asks softly, not wanting to disturb her work as he becomes absorbed in the process.
Shel shakes her head with a twinkle in her eye "Nope." pausing a moment she holds up either side of the fish in either hand making sure they still look like the fit together. Grinning like a madwoman she eyes Quivan "Never chopped the head off a fish eh?"
Quivan snorts. "no. but I've fixed the dented chopers of the cooks so I know the effects." He says stubornly. "Seems worse thing to do to the knife than the fish... after all you can't /eat/ the knife!" His tone is not quite sour.
Shel snorts and tsks "Well then, the cooks must not have known what they are doing, you have to have a nice even table under you and keep your strokes all in the same direction. course then you eventually end up with a nicely lined table, but it's all worth it." The head is finally set down, small eyeballs carved and even the tracings of a few scales have been carved in.
Quivan shrugs slightly. "All I know is I ask what dents the knives and they say 'choping the heads off fishes and other things'. So I assume fish have really hard bones, or ate least some of them. I know some are poisonous."
Shel shrugs slightly "Don't think I ever had dents in my knives." course she was more worried about the wood, but anyways. Working on the tail again she adds in the outline of the scales and even lines the tail a little.
Quivan chuckles. "I'm no cook," He admits. "I fix the knives most of the time I don't dent them. Though I've got one really, really bad one that I use 'cause it's so slender. easy for dealing with stuck hinges." and locks, and anything else one needs to shove something through a narrow space for.
Shel finishes up the last details of the carving and holds out for inspection. "I wasn't a cook either, I just helped when we got the boats of fish in sometimes. Kinda fun trying to work like that and keep up with the person next to you." she ohhs... "Thats cool, I should have thought of that." she snorts at the number of times she ran into a problem that could have been fixed by using a bad blade
Quivan grins. "Care to tell the stories? Or are none of them worth telling." His voice is far, far too innocent. He's gotten one story out of her tonight, see how many more he cna manage.
Shel shakes her head, a large yawn escaping her. "Mhh, not tonight at any rate." she shrugs and sets the chopped fish down on the end of her bunk, laying it out to look just like it had ben run through with the cleaver.
Quivan nods and comes to his feet and nods. "I guess I'll talk to you tomorrow then? If your chores don't get in the way that is." He gathers his glue pot and knife slightly reluctantly and turns to leave.
Shel nods and smiles "Tomorrow, Quivan Sir."
*** Disconnected ***