Writer's Block ((Open))

[menta]

F'ley rubbed his temples. This was a long day. He'd just managed to shoo off Derric, hoping it would help, but it hadn't. Chores had been like standing in fall today, and he was sharding tired. But next to him were a stack of papers...which he had to have dealt with by the end of the day. None of them were his own of course, but things he had taken for Candidates, Weyrbrats, Weyrligns, Riders, and other such Weyrfolk.

The Candidates were the worst, the holdbred ones. With marks coming out of their ears, and lazy as wherries. But he apprecieated their business, because unlike them, he needed to earn his own mark...for him and Derr. He sorted the hides into piles. Nearly hlf were assignments for Candidate and Weyrling lessons, which he would have to complete while "disguising" his own handwriing. Although he would have bet that the Weyrlingmasters could guess that he did several of his classmates papers. The other part, were usualyl more fun for him. Lovesick brats and candidates wanting wanting love poems for their sweeties, or perhaps a romantic story. He knew nothign of love personally, but was a romantic at heart, and the right words had always seemed to come to him naturally. He also took a few commisions from the illiterate Weyrfolk for letters back home, and charged hardly anything. But that was mainly dictation and he had already finished those

He picked up the next letter and grimaced. It was from that good looking greenrider boy he'd had a crush on forever to an older bluerider. Well, he woudl have to put his own feelings asside and get to work. He got paid well for this. He just wondered how he'd gotten so much to pile up, he was usually incredibly prompt on all this. He had probably been spending too much time with Derric. He picked up his writing stick. He looked at the hurredly scribbled sheet of instructions. Write something romantic and good.

He sighed.

He bit his lip and began with an easily believable lie he often used. I saw you at the feeding grounds recently during lessons. I did not come over, i just watched you there and couldn't take my eyes away. I missed the entire lecture, but i didn't care...just to se you standing there. F'leyen sighed again and put the writing tool down. That was absolute beast dung. Why the fall was this happenng to him...he never got writer's block.

[hrsegrl]

The Assistant Weyrling Master had been trying to track down a few Weyrlings who had turned in late assignments. They each recieved private lectures from him on why doing work on time was important. The girls were much better at keeping all of their things together. Coming across a young man who seemed to be deeply intent on his own writing, H'var stopped. Without a sound the man was behind the youth and reading what he had written so far.

H'var had been in love so he knew almost immediately that this boy was not writing from his own heart. "That's pretty dry...." He said nonchalantly, like the boy had asked for advice. "I noticed you were having a bit of trouble." He remembered the boy's name of course. Both he and I'slen tried to remember all the Weyrlings by name. "F'leyen, if you want to impress someone with writing sweet nothings then thats not going to do it..." H'var was not a poor writer, other than his handwriting itself being poor, but he did appreciate the boy's penmenship.

The brown rider was not a deadglow. He knew of course that most of the work on the boy's desk was not his own. "Woman or man, whoever it is this person wants to impress it would be better said by them personally. Details make these things more believable. For instance where you say I saw you, there should be a description of the person, something that caught your eye. Why did you see him or her? What is so special about them that you should write this poem at all?" H'var knew the boy was probably not that grateful for the help but there was time to waste and H'var was a lonely, miserable person who only lived for his dragon and his job. IT just so happened that the Weyrlings were his job.

[menta]

F'leyen looked up in some surprise, and then shook his head. "Its not just dry, its terrible." He rubbed out the few lies he had written and set the hide down. "I know. I'm ususally quite good at this, but i can't write today." He said openly. He was always quite comftorable at striking up conversation with anyoen that past, even one of the Weyrlingmasters. Details would certainly helped, and often he got them, but the fates were being cruel today and he got no such reprieve. Usually his writing was found lovely just for its fluidity and romantisicm, but all his skill seemed to have gone out the window today.

He realised he hadn't properly greeted the Assistant Weyrlingmaster. "Gooday H'var sir," He ammended quickly, and with and attempted to flip over the stack of assignments of inconspicuously. He would lose business if names got to to the Weyrlingmaster of who was paying for their work.

"And how has your day been." He asked, hoping to turn the attention away from the hide. He would try and finish that letter up later. He flipped through them until he found a much better one, details and all. This would be an easy one.

[hrsegrl]

H'var smiled. He couldn't help but think of the face that would haunt him forever, his darling Meran. "I doubt its that bad. Why would someone want you to write for them if you didn't have some talent." He knew the young mans game. When he stood H'var wanted to wave him down but it was better the young man practice his place.

The job was to make sure the Weyrlings were safe and well... he wasn't so sure what F'leyen was doing would be good for him in the long run. "Is there a reason you are doing other people's work?" H'var had seen some of the papers before the younger man scooped them up. He would help the young an where he could but there should be no reason for him to have to do that much work and waste time he should be using to spend with his dragon.

Etrayth was not going to argue but he did remind H'var that riders needed some time alone and so did dragons. Etrayth always felt some responsibility for the young ones. He seemed to want to protect them from any trouble they might get into. It was in his nature to be so.
"My day has been ordinary... like so many others."