Essay Advice - Clutch 41

Weyrling Barracks
Large as it is, the barracks seem small when filled with the constant activity of weyrlings and dragonets, working, learning, or playing. The couches each show touches of the individuals who occupy them, all of them kept swept clean as the WLMs demand, but with a variety of cushions and coverings neatly folded or scattered across them. The clothespresses are full, some not so tidily closed as they should be. Fresh glowbaskets are strategically placed about the room, ready to cast their light over the dark walls. At the northern end of the room are shelves containing a variety of supplies necessary for the care of young dragons, and over the shelves hang a number of charts and pictures. Off to one side is the everpresent vat of oil and trays of meat for the growing dragonets.
Lzi is here.

In a moment of anger, Lzi throws the stylus across the room with a loud groan, flinging a hide away from her. "I'm not doing this /any/more!" Izlasth, being the motherly type that she is, fetches the stylus for her rider, nudging her with her nose. "No, Izlasth, I'm not working on that sharding essay anymore. Sapha can just…" Lips are pursed as she realizes that she had better keep her voice down, as Sapha could be nearby. Lzi crosses her arms, shaking her head at her dragon, obviously fighting her off mentally.

Izlasth may've fetched the stylus, but D'baji'll take it upon himself to go after the hide. Even if it involves jog-trotting away from Car'b's couch in order to get there in any decent time. Once he's knelt on the ground, with the hide in his hands, he does peer Lzi-wards with an arched eyebrow. "Not goin' so well?" Because of course, Deb'll have heard about the essay by now. And the hide is flipped in such a way so that he can start skimming over it. "Hello, Izlasth," is added with a brief upwards peek to the green. "You're lookin' positively radiant today. Good oilin' this morning?"

If Izlasth were a human, she'd be batting her eyelashes at D'baji and giggling girlishly. But, as she's not, she does pretty much the dragon equivalent, rumbling happily. Lzi, however, doesn't share her dragon's mood, tossing an angry look towards the bronzerider, deciding not to pass on her green's comments to him. Grump. "No, not going well at all. I /hate/ this! I don't even know why I even have to sharding to it! I didn't do anything wrong in the first place!"

D'baji isn't beyond fluttering his eyelashes at Izlasth, seeing as he has eyelashes to flutter. 'Cause he's become quite accustomed to interpretting rumbles. Attentions flick back towards the essay momentarily before falling once more to Lzi. "Oh, y'didn't? So what did you do that sent Sapha so overboard, then?" Another quick glance to the hide as he completes his skimming, and he adds, "And what part of it's really gettin' to you, anyway?"

"Sapha just overreacted. That loverboy of hers started insulting me, and I…you know, had to defend myself." By insulting him back, of course, but that's not mentioned. Izlasth settles down next to Lzi, dropping the stylus in her lap. She is ignored. "I just can't apologize for something that I'm not sorry for!" Nope, Lzi does not apologize to any one, because she's never wrong. Not ever. "And what do I say after I'm sorry? Isn't that all that there is to say?"

D'baji finds himself idly folding the hide back and forth, adjusting his kneel into a more comfortable squat-sit position. "Ah, right… two things y'never want to touch are the significant others, and the rank. And the rank, that depends on who. But the love interest is pretty common 'no.'" A snort ensues, and he adds, "And sorry is -never- enough in Weyrlinghood. I made the mistake of askin' Saria- senior weyrwoman at the time- to pick up a bit of charcoal I'd dropped 'fore I even knew it was her, and ended up having to do a report on all the knots of the Weyr, and what they mean." Here, he holds the hide out for her. "Not to say y'can't make your projects fun. I did mine in form of a mobile… Y'know, when I wasn't busy muckin' out the couches of my clutchmates, which was the other part of it… At least you don't have to do that."

Lzi grudgingly takes the hide back, setting it down in her lap as she stares at it a bit. "Yeah. I also have to write about the duties and responsibilities of riders. Oh, oh, /and/ carry two sacks of firestone." That was for wiping her hand on her pants after shaking Xorvian's hand. The rank thing. Bad news. Lzi sighs, her lips turning into a frown. "Then, when I'm done writing this, I have to make copies for /everyone/. That's a lot of writing!" But maybe, with her good looks and fake charm, she can coerce some of her fellow weyrlings, male ones, of course, into helping her out.

D'baji switches positions again, this time settling into some sort of cross-legged deal. "Oh, yeah… Well, at least firestone doesn't stink as bad when it's just bein' hauled than it does after it's been belched up, right? And 'sides, imagine the arms you'll develop. Downright hot." Y'know, if you like Hulk-like girls. D'baji winces at the thought of hand-wiping after hand-shaking, but otherwise leaves it. "That is, but… with your muscled-up arms, no problem for you, writin' that much, eh? An' so… a rider's duties and responsibilities. Can't be that hard… Thought about readin' what you have so far out loud? That always helps when you're stuck. Helped me, anyway. An' hey, maybe you could convince Sapha to let you give a reading, instead of making copies for everyone?"

"No, D'baji, girls arms are supposed to be soft and feminine, not rock hard and muscular!" Lzi regards him as if he has two heads, shaking hers soon after. "Alright. Here's what I have." And thanks for making her player have a mini-heart attack thinking of something good enough. Lzi clears her throat, getting more comfortable in her position. "Dragonriders have many responsibilities at the Weyr. They protect everyone from thread that would otherwise eat us. That's it, that's all I have." All of the other writing on the page is her signing her name and little random doodles. She groans in frustration, leaning back on Izlasth, throwing an arm over her eyes. "I hate this!"

D'baji peers at her after she's read the stuff she has, and shakes his head. "No, you're not supposed to read it out loud in a fatalistic way like that." He leans forward in an attempt at giving the hide a flick with his index finger. "You're supposed to read it out loud in a progressive way. So try again, but this time, don't stop. Try to work in some other responsibilities, too… We've got more'n just Thread to deal with you know. I mean, what about the dragons? That's pretty much all you guys've been -doin'- since your lifemates fell out onto the Sands, y'should know all about those."

"I really don't think that reading this out loud is going to help." Lzi says after a roll of her eyes and a giant sigh towards D'baji. But, after staring at him for a bit, she begins reading again. "Dragonriders have many responsibilities at the Weyr. They protect people from the dangers of thread, but that is only part of their duties. They also take care of their lifemates, who are their first priority. Every dragonrider has their own specific duty. Some are weyrleaders, some weyrseconds, others help out with the weyrlings, assisting the new riders with adjusting to life as a rider." As she's speaking, Lzi's also quickly scribbling down the words that are coming out of her mouth.

D'baji stares right back at her, right up until she starts reading again. He nods here and there, rocking a back and forth, allowing one knee to touch the ground, than the other. (It's all about keeping the flexibility.) Bronzerider glances to the scribbling stylus, shoots Izlasth a grin, and murmurs a soft, "Good…" in that encouraging way that suggests she ought to keep running with it.

Izlasth rumbles once again, setting her nose down between the space which Lzi and D'baji sit, eyes wandering back and forth between the two of them. Any bets on how much she's helping her rider out with this? In any case, Lzi keeps on writing. "Weyrleaders make the weyr run the way that it does, and also take care of many important weyr matters. Without them, the weyr wouldn't be what it is. Not only do they oversee many happenings of the weyr, but their dragons are parents of the clutches that will eventually become weyrlings. Each rider is assigned to a specific wing that they will run drills and fight thread with." Alright, so her sentence structure is awkward, but Sapha eventually has to proofread anyway, and she'll make everything right.

D'baji continues with his steady nodding. At a break, he can't resist offering the tip of, "Here y'could mention the Weyrseconds. They really do help the 'leaders out loads; even have to take over runnin' the Weyr if the 'leader can't. And deal with tithes and drills and that." Clearing his throat, he nods, and adds, in a tiny voice that just might suggest he's not sure if he should be helping this much, "If y'wanna fill up some space, y'could talk about how wingmates grow closer an' that…"

Whoa, wait, what is this? Lzi is actually /smiling/? Believe it. She smiles at D'baji's suggestions, bobbing her head as she writes down pretty much exactly what he says. Plagiarizer. "Great, great, this is /great/, D'baji. Sapha had better be happy with this," she adds in a less happy tone. "What are you lookin' at?" Lzi asks of a fellow weyrling, who apparently has spent too much time looking at the pair, and is deserving of a scowl from the girl. But, as she turns attention back to the bronzerider, her smile reappears. "Thanks so much, this is really helping me out!"

D'baji's head turns to eye the watching Weyrling to, the bronzerider offering this one a sort of apologetic smile. "You're, uh… You're welcome. Just consider me the research or somethin', y'know." He moves from his cross-legged position into a sort of tiptoe kneeling, to squint at the hide as best he can. "Okay, so… how long does this essay of yours have to be, anyway?"

"No. Sapha didn't say, she just called it an 'essay'." Lzi ponders over that for a few moments, after scribbling down a few more random thoughts, eyeing D'baji. "How long do you think an essay should be then? I honestly don't know how much more I can say about dragonriders." Except that they rawk. Totally, for sure. "I just want to get this done and overwith so I can concentrate on other things." Like carrying sacks of firestone?

D'baji shrugs. "So long as y'get the major positions covered, y'should be all right." He holds out a hand to start ticking off fingers, "Weyrleader, Senior weyrwoman, junior weyrwomen, weyrsecond, wingleaders, wingseconds, weyrling masters, assistants… Ooh, don't forget watchriders! And then just a quick run-down on sweeps and Fall? Maybe for extra points, mention search and rescue, that kind of thing? Could even talk about spring games…" He sniffs. "I mean, not that I know exactly what Sef said to you, but… be thorough, don't worry 'bout gettin' too detailed… Y'know, a quick paragraph on each?"

Lzi groans loudly once again, and just like that, stylus and hide are thrown as she burries her head in her hands. "I'll never finish this! There are too many positions, too many people, it's just too much!!" Frustrated tears bite bitterly at her eyes, and she tries her best to hide them, clearing her throat softly. "Maybe I can just ask Sapha for another assignment. I don't think I can finish this one. It's too hard."

D'baji is quick to reach out with a pat for the greenrider's shoulder, offering a quick, "Hey, come on… Don't think of it big like that, though, it's gotta be steps. I mean, right now, we've got a workable bit about Weyrleaders, right? So maybe… maybe y'take a break and go for a walk around the bowl with Izlasth or somethin', an' then come back to it? Don't have to do it all at once. It looks insane that way. But… don't ask Sef for another assignment. Come on, this is the way to show that y'can, right?"

Lzi sighs, eyes rolling upwards to stare at a random point. He's right. She doesn't want to admit defeat to anyone, especially to Sapha. "Alright. You're right. I can do this. It might take some time, but I can do it." Horray for self-confidence. Lzi breaks out into a giggle, shaking her head lovingly at Izlasth. "She says it's time for her afternoon oiling, anyway." The third one that day. Izzie's just about the shiniest dragon at the weyr. And the slipperiest. It's word now.

D'baji is quite pleased with her decision; as is apparent on his face. See the grin. "Good, good. So perfect… You can go an' oil her, and maybe talk about it if y'want- or don't, sometimes it's best to leave stuff in your subconscious for a while." D'baji gives a firm nod, and crawls to his feet. "Anyway, uh… good luck with it, yeah? I've still gotta show C'nuk the joys of hammering down the stitches, so… yeah. Should do that."

Lzi jumps to her feet, throwing her arms around D'baji in a tight embrace. "Thanks so much again!" A kiss on the cheek is placed before she releases him, still beaming happily. Now it's onto Izlasth. Time to fight with her. "No, Izlasth, it is not too cold outside for you. You are going to have to get used to it eventually. C'mon, you could use the time out of here. Alright, fine, you win!" Lzi says, throwing her hands up in the air as a sign of defeat, digging around to get her oil out, kicking the hide and stylus out of sigh for the time being.

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