25.Mar.24, 01:01 PM
He was still as skinny and as strong as a cooked noodle, but Orgailian could still thrash a rug with good results. Why he was proud of that, he had no idea, but it would hopefully keep his brother off his back and let him loaf about uninterrupted again for a while. It was nice having a hidey-hole that most people wouldn't dare disturb him in and he had to admit that A'tay had been chill about the number of times he returned home to a brother or two hanging out like it was their weyr. K'dar was a surprisingly hard nut to crack, though Orgailian still managed to take over the Weyrleader's home on occasion.
When the last rug seemed like it had given up all it had, Orgailian left them to continue airing out so he could sweep unimpeded. He traded his tools for the next torturous task, opting to begin in the kitchen with small gentle strokes of the broom like he had been taught so long ago. He couldn't recall who had taught him. Was it his mom when he was getting under foot back in Katila? It seemed like one of those things he'd always known how to do and perhaps it was a self-taught skill since it simply made sense.
As he contemplated things that his mom did teach him, A'tay started a hesitant sentence and Orgailian sighed. What other tasks were about to be tossed at him? His gaze swung to his little brother when the gratitude started, and his eyes were quickly rolling. Really? Again? Oh, but this was A'tay so he couldn't just leave it at that and had to hit Orgailian in the feels. It wouldn't have worked two years ago, but since the attack on him and Zor, Orgailian finally understood the need to protect his family. Well, most of them. Some of his siblings were obnoxious and earned what they got, but others deserved him stepping up. He couldn't keep Zoremet safe that day in the library and they had both nearly died because of it. Would he be able to save them if it happened that night? Likely not, if he was being fully honest to himself, but he could better understand the connection so many of the other siblings had with each other and the need to be stupid and throw themselves into harm's way to save another.
Not that he needed anyone knowing all of that. He let pieces of the truth slip out here and there, but he wasn't about to start having full on heart-to-hearts. He grabbed the dustpan and squatted down to sweep up his tiny pile of dirt, crumbs, and a few pieces of what smelled like green peppers. If his nose wrinkled in disgust over the conversation, he could pass it off as the smell getting to him before making a quip about messy chefs. “As much fun as it would be to lord this over you forever—I got into a fight over name calling. I didn’t save Wynera from anything. This isn’t a life debt and you don’t have to keep saying thanks. But I get it, okay? I’ll watch her back at Hatchings until one of us is no longer on the Sands.” With the way his luck ran during Hatchings, Wynera would be the one to Impress and move on long before he did.
“But if you really want to show gratitude, you can start with not making me work so hard.”
When the last rug seemed like it had given up all it had, Orgailian left them to continue airing out so he could sweep unimpeded. He traded his tools for the next torturous task, opting to begin in the kitchen with small gentle strokes of the broom like he had been taught so long ago. He couldn't recall who had taught him. Was it his mom when he was getting under foot back in Katila? It seemed like one of those things he'd always known how to do and perhaps it was a self-taught skill since it simply made sense.
As he contemplated things that his mom did teach him, A'tay started a hesitant sentence and Orgailian sighed. What other tasks were about to be tossed at him? His gaze swung to his little brother when the gratitude started, and his eyes were quickly rolling. Really? Again? Oh, but this was A'tay so he couldn't just leave it at that and had to hit Orgailian in the feels. It wouldn't have worked two years ago, but since the attack on him and Zor, Orgailian finally understood the need to protect his family. Well, most of them. Some of his siblings were obnoxious and earned what they got, but others deserved him stepping up. He couldn't keep Zoremet safe that day in the library and they had both nearly died because of it. Would he be able to save them if it happened that night? Likely not, if he was being fully honest to himself, but he could better understand the connection so many of the other siblings had with each other and the need to be stupid and throw themselves into harm's way to save another.
Not that he needed anyone knowing all of that. He let pieces of the truth slip out here and there, but he wasn't about to start having full on heart-to-hearts. He grabbed the dustpan and squatted down to sweep up his tiny pile of dirt, crumbs, and a few pieces of what smelled like green peppers. If his nose wrinkled in disgust over the conversation, he could pass it off as the smell getting to him before making a quip about messy chefs. “As much fun as it would be to lord this over you forever—I got into a fight over name calling. I didn’t save Wynera from anything. This isn’t a life debt and you don’t have to keep saying thanks. But I get it, okay? I’ll watch her back at Hatchings until one of us is no longer on the Sands.” With the way his luck ran during Hatchings, Wynera would be the one to Impress and move on long before he did.
“But if you really want to show gratitude, you can start with not making me work so hard.”