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Post by Kyla on Mar 12, 2010 18:24:34 GMT -5
Asmyra had sent word around the Weyr earlier that morning that the Candidate where to report to her after the evening meal time was over. It was now too late for most riders to be having their evening meal, but it wasn’t very late at night; at least not yet. The Weyrwoman wanted to see how the future riders of her Weyr worked together and how they handled authority. While the young woman wasn’t overly strict she still felt that they needed to learn who she was. Plus this would also give her the possible opportunity to see who were going to be the trouble makers and those who were too hard headed to respect authority were going to be.
The other dragons say we have some fine candidates.[/color] Zarinth spoke encouragingly from the Hatching Sands. It was true; Asmyra had heard great things from the Searchriders. Now it was time to see how everyone worked together and under the watchful gaze of their Weyrwoman and any other rider who decided to show up and catch a glimpse of the Weyr’s future. For now she sat at the table on the raised platform where the Weyrleaders usually sat, and waited for the candidates to start to trickle in one by one.
When it seemed most of them had arrived, she stood up to face them her intense blue eyes scanning the crowd, making eye contact with each candidate in the room at one point or another. “Your hatching will be soon and your parents will be invited if possible, along with several of the people from Skysong Hold including the Lord and Lady Holders, and several people from the nearby Crafts. I am sure you want them to be eating in a clean dining hall, eating food from a clean kitchen and be walking around clean lower caverns.” Her voice was projected so that she reached those in the back, even those who were still walking down the nearby halls.
“Cleaning supplies are all over there in that corner. Split yourselves up into groups and get too it.” She told them, while gesturing to the corner to the left of her so that the candidates would have to walk right by her to get their supplies. She was sure they were bound to be nervous, but Asmyra wanted to see how they could work under this pressure.
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Ayla
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Post by Ayla on Mar 12, 2010 19:59:16 GMT -5
Keia was just finished up her evening meal when she noticed the Weyrwoman sitting at the Weyrleaders' table alone. Must be the chores thing, Keia thought. She glanced down at her clothes, a simple shirt with loose-fitting pants, reassuring herself that she was decent enough to come before authority. Too many times before she had greeted her mother and father still wearing the clothes she wore to clean the stables. Keia cleared her plate back to the kitchen and snatched an extra roll from the plate.
By the time she had chatted a little with a fellow apprentice, the Hall was filling with Candidates. Keia took a place near the front, striking up a conversation with a boy standing next to her. The chat was interrupted, though not unpleasantly, by the Weyrwoman commencing her speech. Keia listened carefully, trying to determine what sort of person Asmyra might be. Keia decided she wouldn't mind serving under her, if only because she had an authority position.
She glanced over to the cleaning supplies where Asmyra motioned. Keia nodded unconsciously and walked toward the pile, glancing around at her fellow Candidates. Picking up a scrubbing brush and some sweetsand, she extracted herself from the writhing group of teenagers and stepped toward the tables. "Right, so anyone wants to wash tables, come over here!" she said, her voice slightly above the din of many people clamoring over mops and brooms.
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Post by spaceman on Mar 12, 2010 20:17:38 GMT -5
This had to be the weirdest sharding Weyr on Pern.
For starters, everyone was so young. Well, except for the occasional rider of the 'normal' colors, those who had transferred from Fort... Aruzhan, prior to being Searched, had heard only the barest rumors of Skysong's origin. Something about Acid causing mutated colors and the older generation throwing a hissy and the Fort Weyrwoman sending them all off to the middle of bum-all nowhere Southern. Which had all sounded like the beginning of one awesomely heroic adventure, and Aruzhan was definitely interested! But it was sharding bizarre, nonetheless, to realize that the woman who ran the entirety of Skysong, to whom he would have to answer with utmost respect, was only a Turn his senior.
Not that he had a problem with Asmyra. Some days it seemed like half the Weyr had some kind of anti-authority complex... probably a consequence of a bunch of wherry-brained adolescents and barely-twentysomethings all stuffed together in one place. But Aruzhan didn't have a problem with the status quo. In a Weyr, you got authority by earning it. Maybe it wasn't the usual way you thought of 'earning' respect -- not by hard work and years of experience, the way you would in a Craft, but by having that indefinable quality that caused Impression. Dragons were telepaths; they could tell these things, and you showed your potential just by Impressing one of those metallics.
Or, you know, whatever they were calling the amethysts and crimsons now. The big ones.
At any rate, when the Weyrwoman gestured for them to get to it, Aruzhan moved. He kept his walk as steady as he could as he moved past Asmyra -- he was still paranoid that they might pull him out of Candidacy, despite the fact that he could manage with his injury perfectly well, thank you very much. He grabbed a mop and a bucket, leaning ever-so-slightly on the mop handle as he eyed the other Candidates. One girl was gathering people for table scrubbing. "Good idea," he called to her. "But the fastest way, I think," he offered casually, using his sonic manipulation ever-so-slightly to make sure he was audible but not overpowering, "would be to divide up into groups by location. Biggest group going to the lower caverns, since there's more area to clean... Then a group for the kitchens, and a group for the dining hall? Then, from there, the teams could delegate tasks -- sweepers, moppers, scrubbers, dusters..."
Or, well, hopefully they could. Or it might just dissolve into a chaotic mess. Candidates were not exactly known for their skills of self-organization. "I volunteer for the lower caverns group, if there's no objections," he added.
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Rin
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Post by Rin on Mar 12, 2010 20:45:12 GMT -5
Maria had heard the word flying around the Weyr that the Weyroman had something planned for them that night. She didn’t mind doing hard work, especially if it meant that she would make a good impression on the senior riders of the Weyr, but she was unsure of how the other candidates would act having to do chores. Maria privately hoped that she wouldn’t have to work with someone who would sit there and complain all the time or someone who would completely disregard the Weyrwoman’s orders. ”I wonder what she would do to a candidate who refused to clean. Not let them attend the hatching?” The young woman couldn’t help but wonder. It seemed unlikely to her that anyone would be forbidden to stand when the Weyr wanted their new dragonets to have the best possibly selection, but one couldn’t be sure. Skysong Weyr was definitely different from any other Weyr. Full of outcasts, mutant people, mutant dragons, and to top it all off she felt like she was cut off from the rest of Pern, except for the nearby Hold and Crafthalls, she assumed many candidates had been Searched from and where also mutants. Maria however couldn’t talk about mutants, being one herself; she may have not have anything spectacular like telekinesis, but her eyes did change color just like a dragon’s or firelizard’s did.
Not wanting to be late Maria called Cinder, her scarlet firelizard over to her and left the candidate’s quarters heading to the lower caverns. She couldn’t help but wonder if she would run into some spoiled Lord Holder’s daughter, who had never gotten her nails dirty a day in her life. Maria chuckled, thinking that if there was such a person there that they would be in for a rude awakening. Weyr life was hard work and way different than living in a Hold, not that she had much experience on Hold life. Being born as the daughter from a green dragon’s flight she knew a lot about how much hard work Weyr life and caring for a dragon could be, but then again a dragon wouldn’t Impress someone who couldn’t adapt to Weyr life, right? She hoped so for the Weyr’s sake. It seemed they needed everyone they could get.
Maria was one of the first to arrive and while she didn’t stand in the front of the group, she stood more towards the middle. She had never been one to stand out but she wasn’t shy either. Standing patiently as the Weyrwoman spoke, she couldn’t help but feel a nervous chill run down her spine as she met the Weyrwoman’s blue eyes, her own turning yellow with anticipation. Her gaze followed the Weyrwoman’s motion to where the supplies where and headed over there. Cinder wrapped her scarlet tail around the girl’s neck as Maria picked up a mop and bucket of water. “I’ll help with the Dining Hall,” she told the girl scrubbing tables with a small friendly smile, when Cinder squawked questioningly at her. “Weyrwoman may our Firelizards help clean?” She called out to Asmyra as she began to mop one of the corners of the Dining Hall.
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sigma
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Post by sigma on Mar 13, 2010 6:20:55 GMT -5
Beretta was pleasantly full from the dinner meal and was having such a relaxing evening. She wasn't surprised to hear the Weyrwoman call the candidates together. After-dinner chores was it? Oddly she like chores quite a bit. After spending so much time on a fishing vessel which was constant work, the girl was unsure what to do with all her free time she now had as a candidate. In fact all the leisure time she now had scared her, for it would mean her mind had more time to dwell back on that horrible night... No, work was the best thing for her. Anything to keep her mentally focused away from her memories.
Weyr life was so different from her old one. For one thing she could be more herself, but on the other had she couldn't help notice that most of the candidates were the new mutants she had been hearing about. She had lived such a shelter life at seas that the rest of the world's problems seem to past her by. So far all of them seem quite nice so she didn't know why some people would get into such tizzy over them. Mutants were just humans with powers...It didn't make them no longer people.
She listened to the instructions and watched some of the candidates milling about. A candidate by the name of Aruzhan, seem to be taking the initiative and trying to call their group into some organization. He was right to do so. They could get things done faster and with finer detail if they had some form of group work.
"Alright, then. I'll take the kitchens then!" she called out and gathered some cleaning supplies that would be enough for a group. "If we work together it will be easier, right? So who wants to join me in the kitchens?" the once fisher apprentice raised her hand to see if she could also help get the ball rolling in setting up groups.
She looked to Maria as she suggested firelizards to help with the cleaning. She thought of her own Hiss and winced. Her green was a wild thing and wasn't properly trained. She usually just sent the little creature off while she worked so she wouldn't get in the way. -If I asked Hiss to help, it would just be a bigger mess to clean-up.- she thought sourly to herself. She really out to train that little green pest.
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Faerie Fyre
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Bless your eyes with magic bright, I give the gift of fairy size - uh, SIGHT!
Posts: 38
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Post by Faerie Fyre on Mar 13, 2010 14:39:39 GMT -5
Considering his age, it was ridiculous that Sinclare managed to put as much food away as he did. After all, boys were supposed to hit a major growth spurt at around sixteen, and it was expected that they would inhale vast amounts of food daily. That was well-known fact, and shouldn't at all be surprising to any respectable Headwoman. The unexpected part was that Sinclare was far past that point in his life. The eating should have slowed down by now, to manageable portions at a manageable rate.
The operative word, of course, is 'should'.
At twenty-one Turns of age, Sinclare still managed to bolt down as much food as a boy of sixteen. It was enough to make the cooks shake their collective heads in amazement, because they knew the biological time table of the male body. What they didn't know, however, was that Sinclare's pyrokinetic ability had upped his metabolism to the point where if he didn't eat vast amounts of food - mostly proteins like meat - he would quickly sicken, and emaciate. The fire was useful when it came to intimidation, but biologically, Sinclare was a mess.
Even considering the pyrotechnic aspect, this was still a lot of food. Sinclare tossed a ragged cube of meat in the air, and sent a seed of fire to meet it. Before it fell to the table with its new coat of thin char, a shimmering fire lizard snatched it from its fall. The mutated queen chomped the meat happily, swallowing it before it was truly mashed enough to slide down without a tell-tale bulge. Her stomach was beginning to distend with this meal, a fact the hot-headed candidate did not miss.
"Easy, Aquaria. You're no hatchling."
The queen snorted in displeasure, and stole a slab of meat off her person's plate. Sinclare regarded his queen with one fiery eyebrow raised halfway up his forehead. Aquaria responded with an evil glare as she tore viciously at the too-big slab of meat. He received a distinct wave of peevish displeasure from the jilted lizard.
"Be that way, chit. No skin off my back."
So boasted, Sinclare layered a slice of bread with a layer of mashed tubers, topped with an identical slice of juicy meat. He bit the contraption deeply, hardly chewing the first bite before he took another. Both of those were washed down with redfruit juice, then the rest of the food in his hand was devoured.
He had reached the end of his plate just as the weyrwoman - what was her name? Asmyra, or something like that, right? - stood up, and announced that the last thing the candidates would be doing this evening would be to clean the dining hall. Sinclare didn't bother to suppress his groan at the thought of more work. A few of the candidates had taken the initiative to organize work groups, but shells if Sinclare would stick his neck out like that!
One of the male candidates called out that he was going with the Lower Caverns group. Sinclare's green eyes lit up as he considered the work. It was a lot of muscle work - he could probably get a job moving the tables and chairs and such for the sweepers. And, he could incinerate the garbage. He was good with fire.
"I'll go Lower Caverns,[" he called, standing up to approach the group forming around the first boy - Aruzhan. As he walked, he tossed a ball of fire in one hand. He didn't plan on doing anything with it, but he always felt comfortable around fire. The weyrwoman didn't scare him, but it definitely would keep the more annoying candidates away from him.
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Post by midnight on Mar 13, 2010 17:59:49 GMT -5
Tirana was not particularly happy about these chores. She didn't like doing work, and having to cooperate with the other candidates was probably going to make the whole thing more difficult. Of course it was important for the dining hall to be clean, especially if her parents were going to be in it, but why did the candidates have to do it? Weren't there any drudges in this Weyr? She frowned and crossed her arms, watching as the other candidates began to organize themselves.
"I'll help with the kitchens," she said resignedly, going to join the girl who had started the group. She seemed awfully enthusiastic about this whole thing. Tirana managed a thin-lipped smile. "I'm Tirana," she said simply. She wondered if anyone else would join, or if it would just be the two of them.
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Ayla
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Post by Ayla on Mar 13, 2010 18:02:37 GMT -5
Keia had to admit, the young man leaning on the broom had a point. As long as he wasn't interfering with her (which he wouldn't - he had already volunteered for the Lower Caverns), she was perfectly fine with accepting the ideas of others. Keia nodded and smiled in his general direction, deciding quickly that she liked his intelligence, and therefore, him.
"Great. I'll take the group for the dining hall, then," she said, stepping back a little more from the group. Keia hopped up onto a bench, giving her a clearer view of the throng. From the ground, she wasn't able to see over the heads of most of the boys, or the taller girls, and it made her a little nervous. Standing on the bench also gave her the advantage of being very visible to the rest of the crowd.
A slight disadvantage- at least for the crowd - was that Keia could see nearly everyone. And there was a boy with a fireball in his hand. It wasn't the mutation that bothered her, it was the fact that he was throwing fire around in a room filled with furniture. Wooden furniture. In a closed room. Keia nearly tripped over her own feet in an effort to get to him.
"Faranth, put that out! You're going to fry us all!" she screeched. Keia tried to catch his wrists in her hands, in an attempt to do anything to get him to stop. She had a weak grip at the best of times, and even if she did succeed, the restraint could be pushed aside very easily. "What are you thinking?!" she whisper-screamed. No need to draw any more attention. Screaming had a way of turning heads in a crowd.
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Post by Astarte on Mar 13, 2010 23:01:36 GMT -5
"Sweeping before mopping, Candidate Aruzhan!" Toska called out as the young man spoke. She hadn't been eating, but had wandered into the Dining Hall at just the right time to hear the speech and watch everything dissolve into anarchic entropy. Sharding bunch of idiots. The quicker they organized themselves, the faster everything would get done. Walking up to the boy with a large broom slung over one shoulder, she smiled and inclined her head to him. "Toska, Journeyman Engineer." She liked Candidates more than dragonriders; they were easier to get along with, and their age similarities were familiar, not awkward.
It was queer, actually downright bizarre, that she was a full turn older than the Weyrwoman and still Standing as a Candidate. Sharding messed up. But it meant that she was older than the vast majority of Candidates, and they were starting to make themselves all look like herdbeasts just milling around. Glancing at Aruzhan, she grinned at him. "You've got a voice on you, mind translating for me? I want to try to make everyone group up, back of the Hall for Lower Caverns, kitchenside for kitchens, over there," and she waved her hand vaguely, "for the Hall. That way we can actually get this moving instead of it just being a crowd..." she shrugged.
Organizing a pack of late teens and twentysomethings was more troubling than herding cats. How did the Weyrleader do it?
Fear, probably, she thought darkly, then dismissed the words.
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Post by spaceman on Mar 14, 2010 0:28:08 GMT -5
"Oh, for Faranth's sake."
Aruzhan rolled his eyes. They were just getting somewhere, when Pyrokinesis Boy over there had to get into an Acid-power pissing contest. Like they weren't all in the same boat -- Aruzhan would bet half the drudges around here probably had some kind of mutation. Well, he could wave his fireballs around on someone else's time.
He had a mop and a bucket. Water plus fire equals no more fire. He was tempted to simply fling the contents of the bucket all over Sinclare... but, well, it might hit the pretty girl who'd just smiled at him, and that would be needlessly rude -- especially when she was trying to help avoid needless dining hall fires. Instead, he snagged a towel from the pile of cleaning cloths behind him, dunked it in the bucket, and executed that time-honored, ancient trick of teenage boys everywhere: the wet towel snap. He aimed at the ball of flame in the boy's hand and gave the cloth a good flick, effectively smothering the little fireball in soaking wet fabric.
"Can't do that with a broom," he replied to Toska cheerily, with a wicked grin. So she'd noticed his trick with the sonic manipulation, had she? Or maybe she just figured he was good at projecting. Whichever. "Anyway, I'm a Harper. It is practically my job description to be loud and obnoxious." He sized up the engineer thoughtfully, and nodded in agreement with her suggestion.
Cupping his hands around his mouth, he called out to the group at large, "Miss Journeyman here thinks we should split up so we stop tripping over each other -- Lower Caverns folk, with me to the back of the Hall, kitchen folk to the kitchens, Hall folk... over there, I guess, somewhere that isn't those other two places."
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Post by Kyla on Mar 14, 2010 8:05:52 GMT -5
The Weyrwoman watched their progress, unsure at first of how this was going to turn out. She felt a slight wave of relief as most of the candidates began calling out what they were going to do, or at least where they were going so others who wished to follow suit could do so. Although she was suppose there to watch how they worked, Asmyra couldn’t help but remember what it was like trying to do something in front of the Fort Weyrwoman before she Impressed, and that was before they had been they had been banished and she still had some respect for her.
A bright glow caught her attention, drawing her gaze towards a boy who was casually tossing around a fireball. How reckless of him! The Weyrwoman had asked they cleaned the lower caverns not burn them to the ground. Asmyra was please to note how ever that his fellow candidates didn’t like the sight of the fireball either. Instead of stepping in right away she gave him the chance to take the opportunity to follow his fellow candidate’s advice. If he didn’t then she would step in. She wasnt’t prejudice against anyone who had developed abilities when Acid first came, but she did ask for at least control over their ability.
“Your firelizards may help if they are trained,” she told a young girl suddenly remembering her question. Asmyra hadn’t meant to ignore her, she had just been distracted. “Very good, splitting yourselves off into groups to get the work down faster.” The Weyrwoman voiced her approval. They will be fine riders.[/color] Zarinth commented, as she listened in on her rider’s thoughts.
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Faerie Fyre
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Bless your eyes with magic bright, I give the gift of fairy size - uh, SIGHT!
Posts: 38
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Post by Faerie Fyre on Mar 14, 2010 20:21:10 GMT -5
It's one of those curious things that defy explanation. You're just walking down to the other end of the room, minding your own business, and the room throws a fit. Before he had truly registered what was going on, his wrists had been grabbed, and doused with a wet towel.
Maddening.
Sinclare's eyes seemed to turn to fire as he unleashed his anger. Too bad for these dimglows, he could invoke fire from any point on his body; a trait he used often. His hair had sprouted flames, and the rest of his body seemed ready to follow when he felt a sharp pain on his neck. The cause of that pain had been, of course, responsible Aquaria. The diamond queen had sunk her teeth into his neck, adding new marks to older, already scarred puncture wounds.
The pain served as a reminder to Sinclare of where he was, and the duties he had to perform. It's a good thing Aquaria had been present, because otherwise, it could have turned into a very, very ugly mess.
"What the shard is wrong with ya'll? It's not like I was about to burn down the whole weyr!"
He stroked the queen who was responsible for the survival of the dimglows he had to call fellow candidates, damping down his flame production. These were an excitable lot - he hadn't even threatened anyone, and they started screaming. Sinclare caught the eye of the boy who had put him out, and summoned his most threatening glare. He didn't like water - bathing was an absolute evil - and he especially didn't like being doused unexpectedly.
((My apologies for the crap post - I've got a couple of dimglows myself at this other site I'm on, and I'm so pissed I can't see straight.))
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Post by Astarte on Mar 14, 2010 21:42:43 GMT -5
Toska grinned at Aruzhan when he pulled his stunt, and was about to say something when the Candidate had finished talking, but it looked like the idiot that had tried to light the Weyr on fire was throwing a fit. Pausing for a moment, she crossed her arms and cocked a hip, standing legs-akimbo while Sinclaire started off. "You being stupid?" she asked the boy, walking over and then around him.
"We're in a Weyr full of wooden furniture. You're tossing around a fireball in a crowded dining hall around wooden furniture. You thick in the head, boy?" She gave him a look that was equal parts incredulous and annoyed, watching as he nearly caught fire and then stopped when the firelizard bit his neck. At least he was paired with something that wasn't as stupid as he was.
"Cut out that nonsense or it's the bucket next time," she added. "We have enough to think about without people throwing fits like newborns."
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Faerie Fyre
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Bless your eyes with magic bright, I give the gift of fairy size - uh, SIGHT!
Posts: 38
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Post by Faerie Fyre on Mar 14, 2010 22:02:32 GMT -5
As if his day wasn't headed down the proverbial drain fast enough, now he had a girl in his face. Not one of the attractive ones with ample curves and a flirtatious air, oh no. Not for Sinclare, hot-head pyrokinetic extraordinaire. For him there was a girl only modestly curved with too many muscles and an attitude that would sour wine.
"Look, I was perfectly fine, you moron. What, you don't trust my aim?"
Aquaria hissed in annoyance at both humans, and settled her tail in a throttle-hold around Sinclare's thick neck. She didn't like people other than Hers, and she especially didn't like it when other people aggravated Hers. There was a reason the fire-man was HERS, shard it!
"So why don't you just back off, and get to work like a good girl?" he asked her, shoving his face into hers.
What. The. Shard.
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Post by Astarte on Mar 14, 2010 22:19:50 GMT -5
"I don't trust you farther than I can throw you, if your idea of making a first impression is to be an idiot," Toska snapped back at Sinclare, standing her ground in spite of his attitude. "Having powers doesn't make you any more special than anyone else," her voice was completely flat and devoid of emotion, " and making a fuss isn't going to make you any more interesting to anyone. I don't know what your problem is, bucko, but you might want to back off." She didn't even acknowledge Aquaria beyond a cold glance.
"We've got things to do, and you're getting in the way already. Clean your act up, tough guy." And with a slightly sarcastic grin, she pushed Sinclare back lightly. There were better things to do than to deal with a newcomer who was apparently physically incapable of acting anywhere near his age. She had met children of four turns who were better-behaved than him, and she wasn't about to let some adolescent hissy fit get in the way of getting things done.
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