August 15, 2004
A visit to the galleries results in a new candidate - Iker.

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You follow the stone steps into the expansive galleries.

R'hyn makes his way down the stairs two at a time in a show of complete relaxation - if not dignity. Leaning over the edge of the railing, he mumbles something beneath his breath to the dragons, no doubt Arisvath in particular, shoulders slumping in contented silence.

Iker sits on a bench, back rounded and feet propped up on the seat in front of him. He is snacking quietly on a napkin full of sliced fruit, his gaze cast out to the sands. With the arrival of the Weyrleader, the potter sits up straighter. He is silent a moment, face twisted in indecision, before he finally clears his throat to make his presence known. "Afternoon... sir." His voice is a bit weak in uncertainty.

R'hyn, though apparently not oblivious to the fact that there are people about, seems surprised to have been addressed. He releases the railing and turns, seeking out Iker with his gaze, his expression fairly neutral. "Uh-- good afternoon." Silence - at least from R'hyn - reigns for a few moments.

Iker nods absently, a thin smile on his lips before hazel eyes drift back towards the sands. He is obviously a bit uncomfortable at his proximity to R'hyn, hands clutching the remaining fruit slices into a ball in their napkin. His mouth opens a few times, as if trying to find the proper words to fill the awkward silence that he inadvertently created. "It must be pretty satisfying... the clutch. It's nice. Um, for both of you. I'd think," he finally settles on, lamely. His shoulders cave in as he visibly winces at his own words.

R'hyn is either observant or just well-practiced at this whole 'making people uncomfortable' thing; he, too, seems out of place, leaning up against the railing in a way that makes him slump, and look a little smaller than his height suggests he should. "Um. Yeah. It is, really. I mean... yeah. A good clutch. One of his best." He has, half turning, a fond smile for Arisvath - asleep, on the sands.

"Oh." Said in an upbeat voice, Iker almost startles himself with the sudden strength of his voice as he latches onto something positive to say. This causes him to rustle about, shifting on the bench and rubbing his palms against his knees. "That's really good. I mean, we really could use it. Y'know, what with..." he stops himself with a shrug, eyes darting about nervously.

"Yes!" R'hyn, too, latches on to this, smiling brilliantly - if a little goofily. The uncomfortableness is wearying. "It's a really, really good thing for Fort, these eggs. They're Fort's eggs. They're going to-- you know. Help Fort. Make her greater. Yeah." He clasps the railing again, backwards, so that he can face Iker.

Iker smiles, nodding thoughtfully at this. He looks out at the dragons, the non-Fortian dragons, and seems to consider a moment. When his gaze turns back to R'hyn, it is narrowed a bit with the bluntness of his question. "Is it... odd for you? To be here, helping Fort, I mean? I mean - is it something you wanted to do?" His back is stiff, for though he might not be the brightest guy, he obviously realizes he's being a bit forward with the older man. Yet his tone is not combative, but rather curious.

R'hyn hesitates visibly, his knuckles going white from the tension as he continues to clutch at the railing. "Uhm," he says, finally. "Did I-- want to do this? No. I mean, it wasn't an ambition, wasn't my first choice. But it's my duty, and I am-- determined to give it everything. Fort is my priority. It's my home. Now."

A lip pulls in, and Iker gnaws on it quietly as gears almost visibly turn in his head. "Yeah," he finally decides, and a smile returns. "I feel that way too - it is home now. Of course," he has loosened up enough to gesture vaguely towards the sands and Arisvath. "In a different way. Without the decisions and dragon and stuff." A rather dumb grin drops on his face as he beams at the older man. "So, ah, did you come from a big place like this? One of the Weyrs?"

R'hyn nods, first slowly and then a little quicker, allowing a smile to cross his own features. "Right," he agrees. "But it's much the same. Adoption of a place, and all. Er-- yeah. From Ista. I mean, originally, as well as-- more recently. I'm weyrbred."

"Oh." Iker seems almost disappointed. "So you grew up knowing how it goes, with things changing based on the dragons. I mean it is pretty odd to think that you all of a sudden have to do something because they decide." His face is a bit contorted as he trudges though the thoughts with effort. His gaze turns up to the weyrleader, as if the other man can rescue him from his own confusion. "You know?"

"I take it you're hold bred?" R'hyn's voice tapers off at the end and turns the sentence into a question, though he otherwise seems quite confident of the response. "I suppose it is," he muses, shoulders shrugging. "It's just the way it goes. Supposedly, the dragons know, and the best person wins. I'm not so sure of that. But... it's the way it's been done forever. So. It just, you know, keeps going like that."

"Yep, sure am," Iker confirms with a grin. "Wow. To me, it seems like really big decisions to just leave up in the air so to speak, but I guess if they have a way of knowing" he shrugs, looking a bit bewildered. "I suppose the holds aren't too different really. I mean, with bloodlines and all. And how the girls don't get to decide themselves who they're going to marry." This last concept rings a bit darkly in his voice.

R'hyn's eyebrow raises quietly at Iker's latter statement, though he doesn't query it further. Instead, he nods, releasing the railing and letting his hands drop indecisively to his sides. "Yeah, exactly. People get born to positions, there. And here, they get-- just dropped into them. Um. Yeah. So, er-- what was your name, I'm sorry?"

Iker rubs his palm once more on his pant leg and then holds it out to R'hyn as he chuckles derisively at himself. "I'm Iker. Funny that - I know who you are so forgot... Well, I'm a potter here. It is nice to meet you, sir." He seems genuine enough in that.

R'hyn leans forward to accept Iker's hand, shaking it firmly - he has, at least, a strong grasp. "R'hyn. I mean. You know that, I suppose, but it's polite. Um. Well met, Iker. Good to meet yo-- oh, a potter? That's interesting. Um. I was going to ask..."

Iker settles back in his seat, increasingly at ease. "Yeah, I think it's interesting anyway. Not quite saving lives, but," he shrugs modestly. "It's a good enough job. Especially considering the benefits of living in the Weyr."

"Useful, really useful. And, you know, everyone's job is important. Because riders can't function without-- potters, and things. So." R'hyn breaks off, his somewhat fragmented speech coming to a halt as, biting his lip, he gives Iker a serious glance. "No riderly ambitions?"

A guilty grin spreads slowly across Iker's features. "Well," he draws out, an elbow stretching up as he scratches the back of his neck. "That is why I first came here. But like you said, at the Weyr you just drop into things." Another shrug, and his eyes turns out towards the eggs. "I figure if it's meant to be, it'll happen. If not - well, I'm not gonna let it keep me from enjoying what I have." He looks mostly at peace with this stance, though there is a hint of hunger in his eyes as they slide over Arisvath and R'hyn.

R'hyn is not, apparently, unaware of this - and smiles. "It happened," he said, simply, standing up a little straighter. "Or-- rather. You seem nice enough, and... okay, you don't seem to hate me, which is a plus. Arisvath's asleep, but-- if you want to, I think you'd do well?"

Iker stares dumbly at the weyrleader a moment before a brilliant smile lights his face. He takes a deep breath and looks out to the eggs, and then back at R'hyn as a happy chuckle burbles from his chest. "Do you mean...? Wow - I mean, thank you, sir!" He's rolling to his feet, what's left of his fruit jammed hastily into a pocket as he excitedly reaches out to shake the other man's hand with both of his. "Thank you... it's well... an honor for you to say so."

R'hyn's expression turns amused - bemused, even, it's possible - as he allows his hand to be shaken, smiling cheerfully. "You're, er, welcome, I guess. Shall I, uh, show you to the barracks? It's-- fairly straightforward, really. All the things."

"Well, if they are in the same place as always, I probably can manage..." Iker admits a bit reluctantly. His shake lasts quite long in his enthusiasm before his hands flit about, an outlet of his energy as they pull on his shirt hem and run roughly through his hair. "Unless you've changed it, I mean, sir? Oh wow, this is great!" He is just short of whooping in glee, happy energy irradiating from every line of his body.

R'hyn, slightly taken aback, though still grinning quietly, indicates the stairs. "I guess they're in the same place... I mean, /I/ haven't moved them. So you've stood before? Ah." Sheepishly, he adds, leaning back against the railing and dropping his hands to his pockets, "I'll let you just-- you know. Do your thing, if you like. Or I can go with you. Whatever."

The light grows wan as the spring day gives way to evening. A steady rain falls from a dark, cloud-covered sky - dismal with only mild winds to disturb the gray streaks. The spring air is cool, still brisk but no longer icy. (55F, 13C)

"If you're not busy It'd be nice," Iker looks a bit bashful for the admission. "I mean, it's been awhile. I'd like it if you'd go with me. But if not" His shrug is small and rapid in his charged state. Hazel eyes glance almost shyly at R'hyn, and his estimation of the man has, unsurprisingly, obviously improved by this encounter.

R'hyn, sheepishly, admits, "I haven't really seen the candidate barracks, and I always feel... silly, at the idea of walking in for no reason. I'd quite like to, really." He straightens again, taking a few careful steps towards the stairs. "Congratulations, anyway."

"Okay - Thanks." Iker's smile is about to split his face. He hops down from his bench, striding after R'hyn towards the stairs. It almost seems like he's about to wrap the other man in a bear hug. As if to prevent this occurrence, his hands are firmly shoved into pockets as he falls in step with the weyrleader. "After you, sir!"

You head down the steps to the anteroom.

You head into the Candidate barracks.

Iker comes in from the bowl.

R'hyn leads the way into the barracks with little confidence, and hesitates just inside the door. He get a few long glances from some candidates, but there aren't many people in here - too many chores to do. "So," he says, quietly, glancing around the cavern. "Um. I've let B'myr know that you're coming in, but he's out on duties, so I guess you'll see him later. Otherwise... the rest of today is yours, and you'll start duties tomorrow."

Iker is looking about the cavern, grinning madly as if the place was an enchanted hall of legend. "B'myr - okay," he echoes softly, nodding slightly. Eyes catch on a few of the candidates that look vaguely familiar. A happy sigh lifts his chest, and his gaze swings around to fall back on R'hyn. "Wow. Thanks a lot, sir. I - I'll do my best... y'know." A bit awkward again, and his hand can't help but reach out to shake the weyrleader's again in thanks.

R'hyn seems a little embarrassed by this display of gratitude, but allows his hand to be shaken, and even squeezes it in return. "I'm sure you will. No pressure - but I like you. I think you'd do well. So..." he glances around. "Just, you know, pick a cot and get moved in, I guess."

"Okay." It's almost a chant by now. "Wow. Thanks, man." One more grin for R'hyn, and Iker takes a deep breath and wanders further into the barracks. He greets a few of the other candidates cheerfully as he moves down the room, the lines of his back relaxing as he calms down to something closer to normalcy. Peeking in at the cots, Iker finally ducks into one of the curtained alcoves about halfway down the right wall.

"You're welcome." That much, at least, R'hyn gets out without hesitation. He stands for a moment, watching, then takes a few steps backwards, and finally turns to leave.

You head out to the bowl.

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