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Of straps and small spaces; Tag: Centrisbel/Lurhstaap
Topic Started: Aug 9 2012, 06:28 AM (140 Views)
Rynn
The Blues cometh!
The storerooms were not, in any way, somewhere Krya liked to find herself though she often found herself roaming their cluttered corners and clustered shelves more often than she liked. There were, after all, few other places in the Weyr where one might find standing supplies of any sort, and with Thread's return there was a constant need for supplies, whether it be cloth, clothing, furs, tools, standard issue boots or just a couple small sacks of klah to shelve in the private weyr for drinking as and when one liked.

Today, however, the bluerider was after straps; pre-cut leather straps of the sort usually employed in flying harnesses, to be specific. Ever since the first recent Threadfall she had taken to have two sets of battle-ready harness in the weyr at all times, a precaution that had paid off recently when a sudden gust of wind during Wing drills caused her straps to overload abruptly - that had torn a buckle, its sharp point ripping out most of the surrounding leather in consequence. It had held long enough for her to get back to ground, thankfully, but it was clear the strap was no longer suitable for the rigours of flying and a new one had to be made. Until that happened she was down to her reserve set, a most uncomfortable position to be in.

She coughed again (the umpteenth time) as she rounded another row of shelves and found herself confronted by...shelves. Endless rows and rolls of them, stretching down a yawing aisle about the width of a wher - maybe less. She stared at it in dismay: she was pretty sure this was where that apprentice had said the leather straps were, but it seemed he had been...wrong. To put it mildly. She sighed, touching her fingers to her forehead in a moment of exasperation as the glows in her other hand wobbled with the moment; this was going to take forever at this rate, and she really didn't have forever to search. She had to report for sweeprider duty later today, and had already wasted enough time trying to find those straps. If she couldn't then she'd have to make another trip down here tonight - and the thought of spending her evening digging through piles of storae was hardly appealing.

With a grimace she turned to begin retracing her steps, hoping to light on some signage at some point that would guide her to where the leathers were stored. At worst she would simply go back up to the scribes' area and ask again where the leather straps were. And this time she would make sure she asked the journeyman, not the apprentice.
Krya of blue Lusuth (#1DACD6)
Wingrider - Sandstone Wing

Marros of blue Marrosk (#008080)
Steel Squad

Horatio and Jolhorna
Dragon candidates

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Lurhstaap
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roly-poly wher attack!
"Little midden-rolling dung-eater! Threadloving shaffitbag! Misbegotten wher-spawned wherry-mating..." Centris growled a continual stream of invective under her breath as she stormed through the main storeroom, her booted feet adding an angry cadence beneath the words. Flying behind his human, Fangs emitted a self-satisfied burble, as if Centris's fury were a sign of a job well done on his part rather than anything to be concerned or upset about.

Centris considered pausing to take a swing at the obnoxious little beast, but that would just give him even more attention he didn't deserve. Even cursing him aloud was a mistake, she knew, but she just couldn't help herself. He had deliberately chewed every one of her spare riding straps in half! Deliberately! She'd caught him in the act of severing the last one, gnawing diligently and pulling with his tiny talons and seeming extremely pleased with himself, as if he'd been engaged in productive industry.

I don't see why you don't just let me eat him. There are other lizard eggs in the world. I'll get rid of this petty, vengeance-minded vermin, and then you can go Impress a nice queen or bronze or something. Despite the green's disdainful words, there was a subtle sense of triumph and superiority to Loremaalth's tone that Centris noted with suspicion. Just the previous evening, she and Loremaalth had argued over that very set of straps. Loremaalth contended that they had been stored too long and must have degraded regardless of her rider's efforts to maintain them. Centris had argued vociferously that it was constant use which damaged and wore down riding straps, not being carefully stored and properly maintained. In Centris's opinion there was nothing wrong with them at all; Loremaalth demanded she make a new spare set every three months and discard the old one, regardless of its condition. Centris had no idea if Loremaalth was actually worried about the straps' condition or if this was some kind of power game; regardless, she had refused to get rid of what she saw as perfectly good riding straps, or to waste her day off sewing a new set to replace them.

Now, of course, the very next day, the straps in question had been destroyed, conveniently, by Fangs.

So in reply to Loremaalth, Centris said, Yeah, I'm sure you'd prefer a proud royal to a stupid, compliant brown like Fangs, right? The subtext was plain, of course: I know you were involved in this somehow. Loremaalth's wordless emotional transmissions to her rider curdled to the equivalent of a smug smirk; but the green dragon said nothing. She knew she didn't need to.

So Centris found the pre-cut leather strips and took what she needed to begin an entirely new set, ignoring Fangs' presence as best she could, though unable to keep from snarling at him from time to time. Next she collected a spool of the thick thread used for sewing riding gear and the metal buckle pieces (for she was going to make a heavier-duty set this time, in hopes of making it more durable, so the old buckles wouldn't fit the new, larger pieces of leather she'd selected.) As Centris rounded a corner, heading back toward the exit so she could get to work assembling it all, she noticed one of her Wingmates walking up the same corridor. "Hey, Krya," Centris called automatically, though she wasn't feeling particularly social. She knew it would be wrong to just ignore a Wingmate though without at least some kind of acknowledgement. Then she noticed the blue rider seemed a bit frustrated. "Looking for something?"
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