The Bucket Incident

Living Cavern (#1100)

"Your mother," Randrin comes to a halt several paces away, drawing his arms up to cross them over his chest. He looks thoughtful for several moments, before requiring clarification. "A certain greenrider in this cavern the other day who kept giving invitations?" He grins, ever so faintly, at Rivael. "She's not old. If she were, she wouldn't be doing that." So there. He then eyes the tuber-peeling squad, and echoes Madelynda. "Yeah; you guys need help?"

Rivael frowns at Mercy's offer, obvious wanting to escape this if he can. And there it is when Madelynda offers to him. He smiles politely at Mercy, "Madelynda here will help you."

Chegaren staggers through, a large and heavy bucket held in both hands. His legs are bowed around it, but his knees keep bumping into it, and splashes of dirty mop-water keep slopping out as he goes.

Rivael adds "Randrin will help too." although he frowns at Randrin not helping him out in e least, thus losing this arguement. He sighs, commenting to Randrin, "You might want to keep an eye out, she is bound to show up again looking for you.":

Anise walks in from the bowl.

Anise has arrived.

Carinah walks in from the bowl.

Carinah has arrived.

"Thanks." Peeling paused for a moment, knife is handed to Madelynda, Mercy taking up the spare knife. "If you'd care to help--Randrin, I believe there's another knife around here, somewhere." Dark-hued gaze slants to note the entrance of Chegaren, the water her spills, and the progress he makes. Still, nothing is said about spilt water, only a, "Greetings, Chegaren."

Madelynda blinks as Chegaren splashes the contents of the bucket on the floor, but pretends not to notice as she takes a tuber and begins to diligently peel it.

Anise swirls into the room - for some obscure reason clothed in her gather clothing. She sights Rivael and sweeps up to him, "Rivael, isn't it? We met at Igen and that horrid women made me leave."

"Thanks for the nomination, Rivael." Randrin grins at the other, then turns his head slightly toward the incoming slosher. He contemplates that for a moment, then shakes his head, gaze moving further around the room in search of an appropriate paring knife.

"Hello," Chegaren pipes up politely, still moving intently, if slowly, toward the door to the bowl. His sleeves are bunched up in his palms to keep the pail's rope from cutting into his hands and that pulls the fabric tightly enough that he can't bend his elbows. Hence the slightly stooped and harried gait. Puffing and blowing, but not yet wheezing, he pauses to rest by the candidate's table. "What're you doing?"

Rivael gives a warm smile to Anise, turning from the other candidates at the site of the bluerider, "Hello! Its. um. Anise right?" he nods to her, standing up from where he sat, "Yeah. That was rather rude of J'es, I'm sorry about that."

Madelynda raises a brow and asks Chegaren, "What are /you/ doing? Helping the laundresses with all the muddy water they're complaining about?"

Carinah walks over to the hearths her boots tracking mud across the living cavern floor. She confers with the kitchen workers there who point her to the grouping of candidates at a table. Making her way towards the candidates, she pauses, eyeing Anise with a perplexed expression, then pushes on, shaking her head. "Heyla, Madelynda, Mercy ... " She nods to the others.

Anise sits down next to Rivael, scootching as close to him as her skirts and the chairs allow, "You're a candidate? How nice." Her eyes flash a bit, "Now I can see you more often. And how nice of you to remember my name."

Mercy returns to the current task: brownish skin flakes from the lumpy vegetable, knife flicked almost clumsily over the object; someone needs practice. "Greetings, Carinah." A hint of a smile curves at her lips, task paused once again so she can inquire: "Have an urge to help peel tubers?"

Chegaren's lower lip pokes out just a bit. Not a pout, a belligerent scowl. Or so he'd assert, if you asked him, and if he knew any words as large as belligerent. "I had to mop the east cavern," he says pertly.

Carinah laughs. "Not a willing one, no," she tells Mercy, taking a nearby seat, "But I'm told someone already dusted, and I'm to help you with the tubers. Have a knife to spare?"

Rivael sits back down, not minding Anise's presence in the least. His lips parted to show his teeth in a charming and sweet smile, "Yep, I was searched by Pryth, Sonya's blue." He makes a shrug, "I never forget a name. Especially your's."

Randrin finally discovers what he's looking for, and the fact that it's about three tables down doesn't discourage him in the slightest. Besides, it gives him an excuse to not be so terribly close to Anise. He winces a little bit at Chegaren as he starts off across the floor. "Mopping. Fun."

Anise smiles in response and chuckles, well let's be honest, she giggles just like any besotted crafter girl, "Oh, you're sweet." She lays a hand on his arm, "Do you like it at Ista?"

Madelynda pauses to soften and smile at Chegaren. "Well, by the color of that water, I'll bet Daria will be impressed with your work. And for that, you should be happy." Her aqua eyes turning on the distant Sandia, she swallows nervously, and says under her breath, "That is something that I won't be able to be for awhile."

Carinah turns to Chegaren. "You're mopping?" She glances back over her shoulder, wincing as her grey eyes follow the mud tracks left by her boots all the way back to the hearth until they turn and disappear behind a table. "Oh, sorry."

Mercy's lips twist into a thoughtful frown, before knife is surrendered to Carinah. "I'll go get another," she explains, standing. Past a chair she squeezes, by another candidate she squirms, gaze swept about the cavern on a search: a paring knife in sight?

Jorenan enters from the narrow corridor.

Jorenan has arrived.

"Barili," one of the lower caverns girls, and a horrible bore, "says that she's going to tell Daria that it was me who mopped the sacks of grain that were stored in the corner, though. And I didn't really. I just splashed them on accident, because the mop was too long, and I slipped, and when the bucket spilled, I thought I'd just slosh the water around, and that'd work just as well, right? And it's okay," Chegaren continues to rattle, turning without pause to Carinah, "I didn't have to mop the living cavern, just the east cavern, so you can track as much mud in here as you want to."

Rivael shivers noticably at Anise's hand resting on his arm, yet he doesn't seem to mind at all. A hand runs up through his messy tangle of black curls, his flirty smile only growing "I love it here so far!" proclaiming excitedly "It can be a lot more fun than Igen was"

Jorenan staggers in looking exhausted. Sort of like he's been breaking and bagging firestone much longer than he should have been. He drops into a chair and slumps there. Firestone dust from the impact floats up from his clothes in a small cloud.

Mission accomplished and artifact retrieved, Randrin turns to head back toward the tuber-peeling party, knife in hand. He gets just about as far as Mercy before grinning faintly and shaking his head. "Here," he offers, presenting the thing. Hey, it's one way to get out of the job: no knives, no work.

Anise eyes take on an almost predatory gleam as Rivael shivers under her touch, "Of course it's more fun, I'm here." Anise tosses her hair behind her shoulders with a flip of her head, "Igen." She says the word derisively and makes a flicking motion.

Madelynda smiles as Jorenan enters, throwing a peeled tuber into the "done" bowl. "Goodday, Jorenan," she offers. "Done with the firestone?"

Carinah takes the knife from Mercy as she stands, surprise clouding her features for a moment. Lifting the knife, she calls after Mercy, "You didn't have to give me yours. I could have got my own!" Chegaren's rambling distracts her, and she offers him a slow smile. "Oh. /Not/ the living cavern. Well then, I don't feel half so guilty."

"Are you sure?" Mercy allows a smile to curl at her lips, gaze shifted from a cluttered table to the offered knife. "That mean you're not going to join our tuber-peeling party?" Head tilts at a slight angle, eyes shifting up, up, up to regard the tall Randrin, curious.

Jorenan drags his head up to look at Madelynda. "Done. Yes, that's it. Done. Until the next Fall." He shakes his head. "Gernan thought it'd be fun to race."

Chegaren smiles back at Carinah, his sweet and unassuming expression expanding into childlike happiness at her notice. Probably because he's still pretty childlike, generally. He clambers up on a nearby chair to watch the tuber peeling, leaving the bucket unattended as he seeks out the companionship of his fellow candidates, all of whom are a good deal nicer than the miserable snots he left behind at Beastcraft.

Rivael's darkly tanned cheeks color faintly, smile never wavering though as he bubbles in simmers in a hormonal soup. "I, um, that is, I think you should give Igen a fairer chance. Don't let J'es mess it up for you. It has some wonderful distractions"

"Quite sure," Randrin acknowledges, bobbing his head several times. His free hand goes up to push back the locks of hair that succeeded in sending into his face, and the grin he'd given Mercy broadens just a bit. "There has to be another knife here somewhere."

Madelynda absentmindedly watches the unattended bucket, glancing at the entrance to the living cavern warily. "Hmmm," she murmurs to herself. "Any minute now some child could come running in and right into that thing..." With a decisive nod, she sets her knife aside and stands up. "Excuse me a moment," she mutters to the general group, and walks over to the bucket.

Anise tugs at the bodice of her dress, straightening the fabric, "There are plently of distractions right here. And I don't like being snubbed." She says the last while pointing her nose up in the air.

Carinah laughs at Jorenan as she reaches for a tuber. "You raced bagging firestone with a smith? That's /none/ too bright." Her knife scrapes the tuber's peel from the tuber, working in short strokes away from her body. "You ought to go see that nice journeywoman healer, Deanera, she'd probably give you a linament for your muscles."

Alania walks in from the bowl.

Alania has arrived.

Jorenan shakes his head. "Healers. No thanks. I'll recover, and I've done it enough before. 'Sides. I oughta take my medicine, huh?" He sits up from his slump with a pained expression, and then stands and goes to the food table. "Mostly, I'm just tired right now. I'll hurt later."

"My thanks, then, Randrin," Mercy replies, knife slid into her grasp. Another smile's flashed towards fellow candidate, before she turns to head for the tuber-peeling table. "Careful of that water, Madelynda," is her warning, slight concern drooping lips into a frown, seat re-taken.

Chegaren turns back to his chores as he sees Madelynda come up to his bucket. "Hey," he says. His doesn't articulate further. 'Hey' just about covers everything in his usual group of friends, from 'hello' to 'stop yanking my underpants over my head.' 'Leave my bucket alone' ought to be easily inferred.

Jh'rin walks in from the bowl.

Jh'rin has arrived.

Alania peels off her riding gloves and shrugs off her jacket, throwing them carelessly on a chair as she walks by the Belior table. Heading straight for the serving table she pours a tall cool glass of juice, and downs it in one long gulp.

Rivael smiles up at Anise, a hand taking up a place on her knee with a will of its own, and patting it comfortingly, "Don't worry about -that-. Its over and done with." he offers cheerfully, "With luck, you'll never have to go back to Igen!"

Jh'rin isn't in riding attire. He had morning sweeps, remember. He's wearing shorts and a baggy sort of sweater, sandals, and a big "I just went swimming, ha," type of grin.

Carinah watches the general commotion while she peels tubers, tossing the peeled ones into a bowl and their skins into a bucket -- mindless work.

Jorenan nods to Alania, since she ended up next to him. And pours himself a glass of juice as well. Then he takes the usual plate of food over to his seat. On his way back, he notices the attention Rivael is paying Anise. He can't help a slight smirk.

Randrin turns a bit to survey the cause of said warning, and he smirks at the pair in the vicinity most centered around it. Then, though, he ventures another glance around the cavern at large, gaze flickering over tables and benches and even, occasionally, under said pieces of furniature.

Alania looks over at Jh'rin and waves, heading over to the table where her gloves and jacket are. Glancing at the candidates she waves to Canriah and Madalynda and gives a special wink to Riveal.

Another flip of hair over her shoulder and twitch of her bodice sends bits of Anise's anatomy moving in a little dance of its own, "I hope so and I hope that woman .... well I hope she can't find a decent dress to wear."

Madelynda ponders the bucket for a moment; it's rather immense. Dark bits of hard mud and other nasty dirty stuff floats on the top of the murky water, and she frowns. Looking warily at the entrance to the lower cavern, shrugs, and walks away. "I'm sure it'll be alright..." she mumbles, though she doesn't sound entirely convinced.

Carinah frees a hand from her work and lifts it, waving back to Alania with a smile.

Alania sits in her chair with a heavy sigh glad to be on something that's stationary. Looking down into her juice glass she sighs not having noticed it was empty.

A young Candidate walks past Alania, and looks over at her sigh. Remembering her manners (and Daria's shouting), she asks, "Can I get you something, ma'am?"

Mercy dashes her knife across an expanse of unpeeled tuber, however clumsily and slow. Lips twist to one side in concentration, entries not noted; skin slices drop onto the table before her, while she props booted feet into the chair next to her, twisting in her own to sit sideways. There.

Rivael gives a smile of greeting to Alania, but quickly turning his attention back to Anise. His eyes immediately falling on that part of her anatomy doing the little dance, "I'm sure she won't. Not as fine as what you wear, I'm sure."

Chegaren nods approvingly as Madelynda turns away from the bucket. That's a powerful 'hey' he's got. Spotting Jh'rin at the door, he grins, and elbows the closest Candidate. "Look at his hair," he says. A snicker turns into a snort.

Alania smiles up at the Candidate, her face slightly pale "another glass of juice would be great, thanks" Handing the cup to the girl, she chuckles softly remembering her own days serving in the cavern. Calling after her she yells "And some bubblies?" Like I really need them" she mutters to herself, wincing slightly at the tight riding pants she's wearing.

Suddenly, a young boy, not more than seven Turns or so, comes running into the living cavern at high speed. He spots Madelynda and changes his VTOL-line to her direction. Not watching where he's going, he runs right into the bucket -- stumbles -- shrieks -- and just as suddenly, the bucket topples over and splashes its muddy contents all over the living cavern floor.

Anise feels the muddy water splashing onto her legs and jumps up, climbing up onto her chair. She shrieks, "My dress. You've gone and ruined my dress."

The water steadily makes its way across the floor in every direction: toward the riders' tables, the candidates' tables, Sandia's station, the hearths, everywhere.

Alania blinks in surprise and merely lifts her feet, watching as the dirty water floods under her chair. She holds tight to the table tho, wouldn't do to fall, nonono.

Jh'rin was in the process of making a rather nasty smirk at Chegaren when the water splashes in his direction. Dirty water, and he just finished bathing. "Ack!" he says eloquently and hops out of the way...just in time to knock one of the drudges off her kilter with her tray full of pastries. The canines will eat well today.

"Sir, ma'am," Randrin salutes where appropriate on noting the riderly additions to the cavern's occupancy load, more prefunctorarily than anything else. His brow furrows a bit in thought as he scans various tables, and... ah! Success! He brightens, and steps over a skewed bench to nab the knife lying on the table and... uh-oh. Shrieks.

The boy begins to cry loudly and piteously, now drenched in the dark and disgusting, and sits up. He wails and wails, cries out, "Hey! Why that bucket here?" He stumbles up, still crying, and slowly walks over to Madelynda. "Nanna Maddy!" he whimpers, "I hurt! I hurt!"

As the water rushes over Rivael's feet, he doesn't mind the water so much as what its done to Anise's dress. His hands clumbsily reaches out and attempts to wring out the hem. His eyes however, have turned to the confusion surrounding the bucket.

Shriek heard, Mercy snaps her gaze up - and just in time to see the disator. "Uh..." Knife still slashes, though tuber dropped in tow after the shriek, the air, while Mercy tries to mask a sigh. At least her legs were propped up; she was wearing her good boots.

The Candidate, being a good sort, brings Alania juice and three bubblies. Looks like they're two different flavors. And then she skips off, figuring her good deed for the day is done.

Chegaren turns around, still on his knees in the chair, shocked to a more typical speechlessness by the sound of the splash. When it finally sinks in that the commotion-- the dodging and cursing and skipping out of the way-- is not his fault, he breaks out into a peal of girlish laughter and watches the leading edge of the water Fall swoosh past the legs of his chair.

Madelynda gasps as the water splashes her, too, and hastily takes up her skirts. "Druyan!" she cries in an angry voice. "I told you to always watch where you're going!"

Randrin steps neatly up onto the bench, clutching his knife protectively. He's not going to lose this one. He does, however, fold his arms over his chest and watches, grinning in sadi...er...very faint amusement.

Carinah's swift to turn when the shrieks begin, uncertain of what, exactly, is happening. "What the ... ?" Her knife stills, tuber peel curling away from the blade, and her brows rise high as she watches the mirky water slosh onto the floor and under the tables. She looks down at the water now puddling her still muddy boots and lifts first one then the other, each motion followed by an almost uncouth *SLURP*. "Awww ... "

Anise pulls her skirts out of Rivael's grasp, "Don't do that, you'll ruin it." Not that it isn't already ruined, "It's my best dress." She still stands on top of her chair, teetering a bit and looking like she's ready to fall off at any moment.

Merien walks in from the bowl.

Merien has arrived.

Alania watching the rush of water under her chair and table. Looking around she spots Merien "ummmm...water!" she points to the muddy flow all over the cavern.

Jh'rin moves over toward Anise like a Hero and puts his arm around her waist. "I'll carry y'outside, ma'am," he suggests as he tries not to slosh too much in the brown water strewn across the clean floor. Well...previously clean floor. "Y'all need t'clean this junk up."

Merien pauses in the bowl entrance, overwhelmed by the crowded living cavern. She glances outside again, frowning, trying to see if she's misunderstood the angle of the sun.

Madelynda sighs miserably, looking around the living cavern. Her harsh eyes, their regular aqua a deep and angry blue, turn on Chegaren. "Why did you put that there like that? Don't you know there's children running around this weyr?" She then turns her attention on the the riders, flushing furiously.

Jorenan just watches the flood of water come. When it washes over his feet, he sighs heavily. "Great. Now I'm dirty -and- wet."

Chegaren's hilarity is cut short by Madelynda's snarl, and he snaps his mouth shut, blinking at her. "Hey!" he says again, more forcefully this time. "I didn't knock it over, HE did." He points, indignantly.

Anise puts her arms around Jh'rin's neck and gets ready for him to pick her up, "I need to get out of this thing, Jh'rin. It was my best dress."

Madelynda nods hastily at Jh'rin. "A mop! A mop!" she cries to no one in particular. Gaining her senses, she turns in the direction of the candidates. "You heard him!" she barks. "Get some mops!"

Mercy slides her knife atop the pile of disgarded tuber skins, half-peeled tubers placed at its side. "Perhaps we should go get some mops and some such?" she offers softly, standing from her perch. An expectant gaze is shifted about the disruptive cavern: did anyone hear her?

Merien glances around the cavern, taking in the water and the arguments, Jh'rin's chivalrous offer and the candidates' efforts, and says, loudly, "Who did what? And to whom?" She moves to a spot free of the water.

Alania looks over at Jh'rin and Anise and smirks "Some get a mop" she suggests somewhat sarcasticly.

"Look at the bright side," Randrin notes cheerfully to Jorenan, without making any motions at all toward actually getting back on the floor. He's high, he's dry, he's... oh, nevermind. "You'll be easier to clean up later; half the work's done." He waves brightly at Merien, then winces a bit at the suggestion for mops and whatnot.

Jh'rin picks Anise up, grinning despite the annoyance of the situation. Then he turns as he overhears Merien, swinging Anise's feet toward the head of some poor unsuspecting Candidate.

Sandia, who was going about her business, begins to shriek. "Ah! My! What! On! Pern! Is! This!" She hops out of the way of the water, the soup on her uplifted spoon splattering in all directions.

Rivael's hands pull back as the dress is snatched from his grasp by Anise. He quickly offers an apology to the bluerider. He recovers and is about to offer to help Anise, his hands pausing before finally reaching her, as Jh'rin rushes in to save the day. Disappointment fills his features, so he turns dejectedly from Anise and Jh'rin, tromping through the dirty water to go help.

Anise puts her head in the crook of Jh'rin's neck, "It was my best dress. I always danced in it. Now it's ruined. Oh, Jh'rin, it's just awful."

Rivael's head gets throughly bumped by Anise's feet after he has turned around and Jh'rin swings the bluerider around. Taken completely by surprise by being hit with feet, he staggers to the side a bit, nearly stumbling into the water, "Hey! Ow!":

Nela, a tiny candidate from Crom, stands on a chair, which makes her only a few inches shorter than Sandia. "It's w-w-w-ater," she stutters, pointing at it.

Alania rolls her eyes her boots still propped up on the nearest chair.

Jh'rin ers, "Sorry, there, uh...lad. Sorry."

Madelynda's eyes divert from the crowd and she finally takes the initiative. "Mercy! Come with me. There's mops in the Kitchen." She hastily heads in that direction, waving Mercy to follow. "Oh, Faranth, if Daria ever sees this..." That thought makes her walk even faster.

Madelynda heads away from the seating tables towards the hearths.

Madelynda has left.

Chegaren raises his voice over the general din, and shouts out an explanation to Merien. It's a little biassed. "I didn't do ANYTHING," he prefaces the statement, just for form's sake. "All I did was carry in the bucket from mopping, and then she tried to move it, and then he ran into it, and then all the water fell all over, and she started screaming, and oh... I'll go get a mop." The pointing, turning, weaseling and yelling all deteriorate into the last, a disgruntled and long-suffering grumble. He splashes down into the water.

Anise calls out, "Ouch." as her feet connect with Rivael. She tries to reach down to rub at them, probably throwing Jh'rin's balance completely off as she squirms in his arms.

Rivael frowns at Jh'rin, features darkening as he peers at the rider. He mumbles "Yeah. Its okay" as he rubs at his bruised head.

"I'll go, Madelynda," Mercy offers, curtain of chestnut locks brushed aside. A slight wince is given as splatters of stew dribble against her face. Ignoring them, she follows Madelynda.

Mercy heads away from the seating tables towards the hearths.

Mercy has left.

Madelynda walks over from the hearths.

Madelynda has arrived.

Jh'rin bears Anise toward the bowl, keeping her out of the way, smiling and watching for Candidates...until Anise starts to squirm and his sandalled foot finds some of the pastries that went splat a few minutes earlier. WHOOOPS! and up goes Anise, then down go both greenrider and bluerider. Ooof.

Mercy walks over from the hearths.

Mercy has arrived.

Madelynda reemerges from the kitchen holding half-a-dozen mops. "Here!" she shouts, holding them up from across the lake that was once the living cavern. Eyeing the water disdainfully, she sighs. "Please? Come get them?"

Anise comes crashing down ontop of Jh'rin with a shriek and a tangle of limbs. Her skirt ends up tangled around her head, exposing her nether regions to all the cavern. He face is obscured by the cloth.

Alania blinks as she watches Jh'rin and Anise, winces then breaks out laughing, holding the sides of the table so her chair won't lip in the dirty water. Seeing the look on both riders, she laughs harder, finally spitting you "Jh'rin, are you ok!!"

Mayhem, chaos, anarchy, floods, er. Randrin slips the paring knife into his belt for safe-keeping, and looks about for something useful to do. On noting Madelynda and Mercy's return, he begins to pick his way over to where she'd re-appeared, taking great pains to stay on benches where available. Until the riders tumble, just to the side, sending pastries spurting up to his safety level.

Merien moves aside as Jh'rin and Anise hit the floor. "Are you all right?" she asks them, then she hisses to Jh'rin, "She can clearly walk for herself, you know." Then she moves to flip Anise's skirt back over said regions and says in Chegaren's direction, "No one's saying it's your fault, Chegaren. Just do me a favor please, and help clean it up?"

Randrin has reconnected.

Randrin has partially disconnected.

Carinah tosses down her knife with clatter as well as her half-peeled tuber and stands, making her way through the slop to meet Madelynda and Mercy, hand outreached for the mop. Anise's shriek turns Carinah's head, and she laughs out loud, eyes rolling at the absurdity of the scene. She finally grasps a mop and begins to slosh the muddy water around until the mop is saturated.

With a great gasp of indignant breath, Sandia exclaims, "By Faranth's great gold backside, cover that woman's bottom!"

Rivael's first reaction is to laugh aloud at the fall of Jh'rin and Anise. He covers his mouth with a hand, deciding to rush and offer some aid, if needed. He first offers a hand to Anise.

Chegaren's dedication to cleanliness only extends so far, and the sight of Anise's feminine charms, clad though they might be in panties, is enough to distract him entirely. He pauses, mouth hanging open wide enough to catch not just VTOLs but particularly small firelizards, and stares.

Jh'rin would of course react or answer if Anise had not just gracefully knocked every scrap of breath out of his body. He lies on his back under Anise, heaving and gasping.

"Mop?" Mercy offers, half-dozen clutched within her arms. To the approaching, her gaze shifts to, slightling pleading. With stumbling steps, she nearly trips over the mops handles. "Mop?"

Alania is still giggling, shaking her head "Jh'rin you need a healer? /are/ you alright?"

From atop her chair, Nela reeeeeeaches to take a mop from Mercy. She starts mopping ineffectively at the water around her chair, still standing on it.

Wheezegaspchokeheave. That's what Jh'rin tells Alania. And Merien.

Unmentionables! Randrin, neatly in the vicinity, sneaks a peek of his own, clears his throat, and proceeds on his way. Yes, yes, yes. Right on over to M & M. "Mop?" He inquires, blithely.

Lal walks in from the bowl.

Lal has arrived.

Anise makes no move to get off of Jh'rin or to get up for that matter. Rivael's extended hand gets ignored. "Now, I've got gooey stuff on my dress too."

Lal walks in silent, going to the serving table. Khitham is on her back, sleeping.

Alania isn't getting up for no money, no way, nope, she sure doesn't want to slip or D'ru will have her hide "She looks at one of the Candidates "Ummmm best get a healer lad, looks like Jh'rin can't breath and Siaroth is going to get jumpy if somethings not done"

Merien mouths something about gooey stuff under her breath and sounds as exasperated as Sandia. "Chegaren?" She snaps her fingers in his direction to try to get his attention. "Chegaren! Hey!"

Lal does turn to see the chaos in the cavern, briefly. She makes a rather prodigious face. "An' MY life's messed up?" She grouses.

Carinah walks over to the overturned bucket, her mop, fully laden with water, tracking a path through the water. She kicks the bucket upright with the toe of her boot and then bends over, bringing her mop around, and begins to ring it out in the now empty bucket.

Madelynda hands out mops to Candidates whether they ask or not. "Daria! Daria! Daria!" she chants like a mantra, scared speechless. "Watch out!" she manages to shout at Lal. "Careful! Water!" She seems to be reduced to one and two word phrases in her panic.

Rivael keeps his hand extended, giggling at the sight of Anise and Jh'rin on the floor in the water. He mumbles, "serves 'im right." then says to Anise, "Here. Let me help you up!"

Jennae enters from the narrow corridor.

Jennae has arrived.

Anise gets up this time and storms out of the cavern, "Bloody men, should bloody stay with women."

Anise walks outside, into the bowl.

Anise has left.

Lal avoids the water carefully, mindful her son's on her back. She gets a meatroll, and sits on the edge of the serving table, to avoid the mess.

"Mop." And Mercy hands one to Randrin, one to a passing drudge, and one to the just-entered Jennae, one left for her. "Mop," is repeated again, before she...just kinda slaps the mop against the water. What does she do with it, again?

Chegaren turns to Merien with a dazed smile on his lips, and blinks at her dreamily for a moment. Her panties are probably just as pretty. The 'hey' gets his attention, though, as it was surely designed to do, and he blinks several times to clear his vision of that particularly pleasing image. "Yes ma'am?" he says a the color of rosy dawn creeps up his cheeks. "Oh! Yes, ma'am. A mop, ma'm."

Perturbed and holding her skirts so high that her own nether regions are about to show, Sandia barks at Madelynda, "You silly little fool! NOW who's the firelizard brain, hhmmmmmmm?"

Jennae quickly lifts the hemn of her skirt as her eyes widen to see the disarray of the living cavern. She hops from foot-to-foot as she takes the mop quickly.

Carinah nods to Lal as she continues to mop around the tables, not getting for before she has to return to the bucket and wring it out once more. She just shakes her head, intent on getting this mess cleaned up.

Rivael lets out a heavy sigh of disappointment at not being able to help Anise. Yet taking up Alania's suggestion, which he had heard, he only hesitates a moment before dashing out the door in search of a healer, "I'll go find one!" he cries ou;

Merien says, "Yes, a mop. Please." She takes a breath and her voice calms a bit. "Thank you, Chegaren. Candidates, let's try to get this cleaned up before someone gets hurt, all right? You know what happens if a rider gets hurt? Or one of you does? Right?" As she says this, loudly, she starts setting chairs upright.

Rivael walks outside, into the bowl.

Rivael has left.

Lal just sits there, chewing on her meatroll, making face.

Jh'rin rolls onto his side and mutters between gasps, "Heavier than she looks..."

Lal states simply, "Dunna act like yeh didna enjoy it."

Jennae follows Carinah's lead, mopping up the mess diligently, making frequent trips to the bucket to wring the quickly-drenched mop out.

"Mop!" Randrin replies, being handed said thing by Mercy. He contemplates the thing, and his distance from the floor, both with equal ponderfication. He leans over, a little bit, and attempts to swab the ground with it. That is mostly successful, until he heads back the way he came, crossing the bench that had been earlier spattered by flying pastries. Much more intent on swabbing -- or pushing water, mud, gunk and goo, depending on how you classify what -- he doesn't notice until it's too late. *flump* Free flying lessons? Nah, more like free falling lessons. Right off the bench, onto the floor.

Madelynda blinks at Sandia's scolding and begins to mop ever-more vigorously. "Shards. Shards. Shards. Shards." becomes her new mantra as she makes a dent in the lake. She eyes Sandia warily on occasion, however.

Lal finishes her meatroll, and picks up a mop herself. She starts to clean teh floor expertly, like she is really very practiced at it. The entire while, Khitham is on Lal's back, fast asleep. Smart kid.

Druyan, forgotten in all the tumult, splashes over to Madelynda and tugs on her soaked skirt. He whimpers, "Nanna Maddy, I hurt! I hurt!" After scanning the cavern and the toppled bucket, he adds softly, "I sorry. I sorry."

Jorenan got a mop. He's currently looking at it as if he has no idea where it came from (which he probably doesn), what to do with it (which he probably does), and how he got here in the first place (which he'll remember eventually). He looks down then, at his feet. They seem to be planted dead center in the midst of a vast lake of filthy water. He heaves a slow sigh. "Mop," he mutters.

Carinah smirks over at Jennae, her mop slopping back and forth in rythmic motions. "Never a dull moment, eh? Candidacy, a wonderful experience, eh? The goal worth the road there, eh? Pshaw." She shakes her head and rolls her eyes and just continues working.

"And we're mopping," Mercy mutters beneath her breath - or so she thinks: mop is ineffectively sloshed across the dirtied floor, water just moved into cracks, or different places - like under chairs, tables, and onto the feet of people. *flump*? Mercy whirls around, dripping mop sending a spray of dirtied water to the near vicinity. "Randrin?" Big Man on Floor. Mercy peers. "Uh, are you okay?"

Jennae works silently, though her brow is furrowed quizzacly. She grins at Carinah as she continues to slosh through the small lake.

Chegaren sloshes over to Mercy, who had the mops the last time he looked, a precociously grave expression on his face in response to Merien's words. He takes a swab and plies it with vigor, doing an excellent job of swirling the muddy mess around ina line of circles. Worried eyes on the lookout for the Weyrleader, the Weyrwoman or Daria, he mops right over Jorenan's boots.

Merien raises her voice and says, "I asked a question, candidates!" The tone of her voice might be recognized by anyone unfortunate enough to be out in the bowl when she's lecturing the weyrlings. "Does anyone know what happens to you if you get injured?"

Madelynda, grumpy at Druyan and rightfully so, barks in her recent monosylabbic way, "Druyan! Out! Go! Change! See! Callista!"

"We can't Stand for a dragon, ma'am," Chegaren supplies with tentative eagerness. Eager to please, not eager to hear he's right.

Jh'rin sits up finally, brown water in his coxcomb-like hair and in his formerly white sweater. "I guess I ought t'go change..." he mumbles amidst the mess.

Lal mops methodically, tsking at Chegaren's work. She finds a bucket, filled with water and soap, and dunks said mop into it, wringing it out. She points at Chegaren, then points at the bucket before going to back to work.

Lal mutter under her breath. "change in every way'd be fer yeh."

Madelynda stops long enough to look at Merien fearfully. She gives the Weyrlingmaster her attention, but says nothing, swabbing the floor with furious strokes.

Jennae looks pityingly at Druyan as she hurries to wring her mop. She's cleared a small area around her, leaving only a light sheen where once there had been a layer of water, though the water keeps creeping back to invade her dried area.

Staring as he is, directly at his feet, Jorenan can't help noticing the mopping. But he doesn't seem to care. His boots were already ruined. However, it was Chegaren that did it, so his eyes flicker and narrow thoughtfully.

While we're on the topic of mopping, it appears that Randrin may have hit (no pun intended) on the very best way TO mop. Clothes soak up an incredible amount of water, you see, and, as he's prone on the floor, most of his garments are in rather close contact with the sloppy stuff. He just lies there for a moment, peering up at the ceiling, then tilts his head first to look at Mercy, and then to look under the table and across at Merien's feet. Or what he assumes to be her feet. He doesn't answer, at least not yet, quite possibly waiting for her pronouncement to determine the state of his ok-ness.

Druyan begins to cry -- a seven-Turn-old, shrieking, wailing-type cry -- and splashes through the lake and into the lower caverns as directed.

Alania puts her feet down carefully, stepping lightly as she heads for the door. Shaking her head she mutters "Candidates"...

Jh'rin walks outside, into the bowl.

Jh'rin has left.

Alania walks outside, into the bowl.

Alania has left.

"Look!" Two lower caverns' kids peer out from the caverns, pointing at the water. With a giggle, they retreat back into the caverns; several minutes pass, before the pair returns, clad in swimsuits. "Just like at the beach!"

Merien nods to Chegaren, but she doesn't look pleased. "Yes, you don't get to Stand for the hatching." She looks from one candidate to another, from Madelynda to Jorenan to Randrin to Carinah. "Think about that, please, before you take any more chances of broken legs or arms or heads smacked onto the stone floor."

Lal finishes up her section of the floor, and inspects it, leaning on her mop. Her expression is utterly blank, like she is working on automatic. She does, however, make aface at the lower cavern girls."

Chegaren follows Lal's movements with earnest concern, marvelling at the woman's ability to knock off the efficient steps with such straightforward competence. But then, she's got a kid, and mothers are always straightforwardly competant at things like this. He'd like to -be- a mother some day. Dunking his mop in the clean bucket, he turns to her for approval, but she's already gone. So he turns to Merien, but she's looking displeased. In defense, he turns to the two lower caverns kids and grins at them.

Carinah's mouth pulls to one side, cheeks a-flame though the mess is no fault of her own. "Yes, ma'am," she says, sufficiently chastised, and bends over the bucket to wring out her mop once more.

Jennae watches the lower cavern kids sharply, her mop working faster now. "You can't swim here, you know." She sighs as she glances over the formiddable amount of water still remaining.

Madelynda nods furiously at Merien's words, groaning at the strain of mopping so quickly and fervently. "Yes. Ma'am. Yes. Ma'am. Yes." As the littles in swimsuits splash into the water, she looks up. "No! Karlin! Tarka! Hoflon! Out!"

That settles things for Randrin, who picks himself carefully up off the floor. See? He's fine. Just a little bit brused. And somewhat gooped. And a lot wet. But he's still got the mop!

Lal shrugs, "Cin, practically." She walks over to the bucket she'd used before, dunking, wringing, and dunking once more. Her skills are clearly those of a former drudge. She works liek one.

Merien catches sight of the children, and a smile touches her lips. She turns away, reluctant to have it seen, and sets a few more chairs back into place.

Mercy tears her gaze away from the soppy Randrin, full attention riveted upon Merien. After the weyrlingmaster speaks, she returns to mopping, or a form of mopping. Slosh. Slosh.

Apparently his feet have ceased to entertain Jorenan, because he heaves another sigh and begins swabbing up water. He soaks up his fair share, and wrings it into the newly upright bucket. Over and over and over again, soak up and wring.

Jennae mops her ways slowly to Randrin. She eyes him carefully before asking, "You okay?"

Lal comments fairly quietly to teh candidates at large, "Y'know, ifn't yeh swing th'mop one way, an' then th'other way, s'better exercise. Keeps yeh even."

"Loooook!" One of the swimsuit-clad children traipse over to a fair-sized puddle. "C'mere." Companions follow, and together, the children trample through the puddle--until Jennae and Madelynda make remarks. They stay, though, one child even venturing to lie down in the small puddle and making swimming movements.

Carinah pauses in her work, leaning against her mop. She wipes her forehead with a forearm, takes a deep breath, and then sets her mop back to the floor shooting Lal an odd look. Her frown grows as she catches sight of the children and heads toward them shooing them away with her mop. "Knock it off. We're cleaning." She gives her mop a little shake to emphasize her words. "Go to the beach to swim."

Chegaren gets more water on himself than in the bucket, but the white linen of his shirt soaks up his fair share, getting it off the floor, at least. Golden hair plastered to his face on one side, he looks thoroughly delighted to be messy, and mopping with this many people is much more fun that the solitary job he made of it earlier, from whence the bucket originated. He sloshes the mop to and fro, a vacant little smile on his lips.

Randrin reaches with his free hand to rub at the back of his head, turning a bit to survey Jennae. He nods then, grinning a bit. "Sure," he murmurs. "It's not every day you get to fall in the Living Cavern, but it's got nothing on falling off a runner." Sure, sure. Right, right. Now, about that mop. He eyes it distainfully, then peers at Jennae again. "How exactly do I use this thing, anyway?"

[At this point, Chegaren's player had to get back to work.]

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