Welcome to Gaia! ::

Tsubari walked into the feast, filled with happiness. The new riders were about with their glowy feeling, even the crimson rider. Who would have thought Benden would have another atypical?

He walked over to the table and grabbed some wine. He looked around for Erie, see what remarks she would say about him not Impressing.

Galeia stood in the archway to the feast, looking across the tables and weyrfolk with a slow eye. She hadn’t wanted to come here alone. She’d daydreamed only days ago of arriving with Winderick. In her mind’s eye, he’d Impressed a blue or brown, and depending on her mood, she’d either found a green of her own, or else brought along a handsome guitar and bent the audience with clever stringing and verse.

Only Winderick was not here, too aggrieved over the events of the Hatching. She knew better than to pressure him for company yet, so there was no sense in her not coming. And her guitar was a serviceable instrument, but too plain for such an event even if there had not been a band of harpers already in the corner. Besides, she would have her fill of playing soon. She’d announced her resignation from Candidacy to the Candidatemaster already, but it would be a sevenday at least before she was ready to leave for the Harper hall. Besides her clean features, she had little to bring to the feast, and little to present – besides her support for the new weyrlings – and the crimsonrider especially.

Red was the color of the dress she’d borrowed from her mother. She’d had the hem let down and the middle cinched in some, but it was otherwise a fair dress. A bit plain, but well-cut and form fitting, and most importantly, blazing red. Galeia glanced over the crowd, noting a few odd looks that came her way as some weyrfolks realized the significance of her garb. She met their gazes with a cool, particular stare of her own, and glided into the room. Dew blinked from Between at her entrance, and landed calmly on her shoulder. He was small yet, not being long out of the shell, but he made a rather handsome figure against the black froth of Galeia’s hair.

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K’la glanced up, a little startled to see the bronzerider, but she gave a relieved smile at his presence. Only slightly belatedly she, she remembered the social dances required of rank and dipped, hand over her ample chest as a sign of respect. There was no curtseying in riding leathers, but she disapproved of women bowing. “S’raid, it’s good to see you. And yes, that was him.” She smiled, both glad that the bronzerider had remembered her son (not that her near-hysterics in the stands had been easily looked over, but she could play her silly image as well as S’raid could his gravid one), and at Kadayon’s success. “His was the only blue of the clutch. I’m enormously proud of him.”

Beneath her relief of finding something civil to talk about after being nearly trampled by that crimson, she was recalling the recent talk about S’raid’s triumphs. There was a bit of a stink about it, but she had been to Trine as well, and she had found no faults in his handling of the situation. As for his commendations from Trine… well, when it came to power, a weyr was a weyr. So long as the rumors about him were only minor, she had no reason to make up ideological reasons for shunning him. He was, after all, a bronze rider, and a capable man. She had no trouble continuing their indefinite friendship so long as she had no socially political reason to curse him.

You are more clever than you act sometimes, Mine. Yvoth noted from her perch outside. She had been daydreaming, and sounded only wistful about the comment.

Hardly, my lovely. I only try and keep pace. She smiled dazzlingly. “What did you think of the hatching?”

Canoake looked over Tia who was larger than her own frame but not as curvy. It was like she and Tia had been Impressed to dragons who fit not only their frame but their mindset. Which meant that she could use the girl to start up her own plans. Which now included a certain red dragon.

Oh yes. The wheels were turning.

"Tia. A pleasure. And Tatath has been talking about how lovely Yanath's hide is and how charming her rider is," Canoake spoke smoothly.

Not as lovely as mine.

Skipping over Tatath's comment, she shook Tia's hand firmly and then dropped it, resisting the urge to wipe it on her skirts. She spotted K'la with the bronze rider, S'raid. She couldn't remember his dragon's name but knew he was stalking the Weyr leader's post. Turning around, she spotted two of the other green riders and the bronze rider. Hmmm... "We are such a small class. I think it is important we all get to know each other? After all, who knows when the time comes that we may have to call on each other for help. Let's go introduce ourselves, Tia. And even to that red rider. Crimson is such a silly word. Not her fault, her dragon's hide is the wrong color after all."

Her hide is too bright. But she is our sister. And she is not gold. And color is better than gold. Tatath told Canoake and Yanath.

K’la mimed him, sweeping a glass from the passing platter. She rather enjoyed the indulgence of alcohol, but after the first relaxing edge took effect, she would set the glass aside as she always did. As much as she enjoyed the effects, she was hardly going to let it indispose her mind in such a setting.

Ahh, she had wondered what his take on the little crimson would be. So far, most people seemed to be avoiding it, but there was talk of it being an ill-omened beast. Policy so far was slander it only very quietly and ignore it otherwise. She was quite capable of that, but it was too bad S’raid wasn’t keeping in line with the policy of silence (greenriders were expected to gossip, but a bronzerider?), but he hardly went onto one of those outrageous spiels about equality and all that silliness. “I suppose am I partial to greens myself,” she admitted with a demure smile, “though I think a good base of them will add nicely to the lower wings. Deftness of wing and all their merits that have been preached, you know. And yes, as you say, the next clutch will hopefully feel the effects of Givon’s little plant and give us another queen. I quite wonder if they’ll save the first harvest of the herb for a stock of herdbeasts reserved for Yirath. I’d imagine she should be fed the stuff as much as possible…” she fell into ruminations about the silly weed. It was a topic she found endlessly dull, but infinitely safer than speaking of the crimson in detail yet. She didn’t give a wit for S’raid’s talk of symmetry (as if symmetry had anything to do with the breech of normalcy!), and further she wasn’t quite sure of what opinion to project about the creature. She knew better than to be seen about it, but how much spite was necessary, and how much pushed the limits of toleration? She rather liked her present tactic – asking for opinions about the hatching (no doubt disturbed by the atypical egg) and shifting into a discussion about that mystweed, mystflower, sprayplant, whatever it was, without giving an opinion of her own. A decent way to discover the hearts of others and then find the best stance, that. She would use it again during the feast.

She is still a dragon, was Yvoth’s opinion, only red.

That makes all the difference right now, sweetling.

If you say so. Yvoth did not agree, but her thoughts about the matter were drowsed by the heat of the rocks, and she stretched languidly, finding the warmth a more appealing topic.

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Galeia made a short survey of the room. She half wanted to retreat to the circle of Harpers in the corner of the room. They were striking up a good beat and with the singer taking a break and sipping at water she could have stepped in but… no. She hadn’t come here to sing, and she wasn’t sure her heart would follow such a strong rhythm just yet. Spotting a remarkably tall head and long spill of hair falling down from it, she grinned and plucked out a path for the cluster of new riders.

“Tia! I saw that you’d Impressed – she’s lovely.” Were it not for her blood-red dress, she might have been tempted to hug the girl or at least squeeze her arm, but she was unsure of the reception she would garner here and didn’t want to be recoiled from.

She’d overhead the phrase ‘wrong color’ on approaching, and there could be only one meaning to that, but she was hardly deterred by it. She turned to the other girl as well and pressed an effusive smile at her and the other striking green. She knew the girl, at lest by reputation, as she did most candidates. She liked keeping track of people. “Yours as well, Canoake. What are their names?”

Sisters, sisters, sisters everywhere! Oh Mine, today is such a good day. I am glad I hatched. Ninaeth gave an almost dreamy sigh as he followed his rider into the feast. It had taken Kadayon – no, K’day now – nearly twice as long as many of the other new riders to get ready but that was no surprise. As vain as a rooster, the boy now had all the more reason to spend ridiculous amounts of time grooming himself before he showed his face in public. His hair had to be perfect – it had been messed up on the Hatching Sands - his clothing neat, and all of his knots had to be tied evenly. Even his blue had received a small amount of such attentions himself, though Ninaeth insisted he already looked his best. K’day, however, did not agree. There was something extremely unappealing about being covered in egg goo. Eventually, once they had both passed a thorough inspection, the newly made bluerider and his handsome dragon finally joined the group.

The blue’s first instinct was to go after the greens, broadcasting a fine welcome to each and every one of them. He was going to be their best friend, they just didn’t know it yet, but Ninaeth wouldn’t fault them for that. They just hadn’t heard what a great dragon he was! Humming softly under his breath, the dragon positively strut after his rider, head held high in the air. Even K’day, who had managed to keep his face in a polite smile, couldn’t help but radiate the same kind of prideful energy. He had Impressed and, quite frankly, it wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d expected it to be. Ninaeth didn’t pry around in his head or try and force him to bend to his will. In fact, they seemed to just peacefully coexist in the same headspace. Later, perhaps, he might try and persuade himself that the feelings hadn’t been his, that the newly forged bonded was being overloaded by his blue, but for now the boy was beyond content.

Now that he had a dragon, of course, he had to show him off. And, naturally, the first person he wanted to show Ninaeth off to was his mother. Giving the dragon a gentle poke, he jerked his head in the direction of the gathered riders. “Come with me. We have to see my mother. Then you can talk to whoever you like.”

As you wish. Ninaeth gave one final glance at the lovely gathering of greens before trotting after his rider. Perhaps this “mother” character would have a green of her own.

No reason to slack, but maybe reason to try harder than most. B'tar considered the Weyrwomens comments from a respectful distance and tried to look as though he weren't evesdropping, even slightly, glancing toward K'la and S'raid.

He could have easily been accused of jealousy, since he frowned very slightly at the conversation between the two, which he couldn't overhear from where he was standing, only watch.

...Ok maybe he was a little jealous. S'raid always looked impatient when he had something to say, but he didn't see that same expression when the Bronze rider had words with pretty, very politically smooth K'la.

Hmph. Maybe you're right and I should wish I'd been born with breasts. He thought to Primath, with a sulky snort.

Aww, you're so cute when you're being ridiculous. Primath's voice was all but the mental version of a chortle, knowing he didn't even slightly believe his own lament. She just knows how say things so he wants to hear them. And you know He doesn't want to hear your ideas about things changing.

I still think he might be forced to change his mind at this rate.

He's a Bronze. Him and his dragon both. They don't change their minds. They like the big high sunning rock they sit on. Primath snorted, refusing to agree on any level.

We'll see. B'tar took an small sip of his drink again, determined not to repeat his earlier mistake.

Canoake stepped back as a girl dressed in bright red stepped forward to congratulate Tia. Wrinkling her nose slightly, she allowed the pleasantries and responded kindly. Like one would respond to a child whose cake had just dropped on the ground. "Thank you. My lovely's name is Tatath. And it a pleasure...? I do not believe I know your name," she practically cooed.

Turning around, she was eager to move towards the bronzeriders and other green riders. She also saw K'la moving towards. Ah ha. Kadayon. She wondered what he would shorten his name too. Oh well, plenty of time for that.

Tatath picked up right where Yanath left off, allowing both riders to hear her conversation. No need to worry. IF they were not prepared or got knocked, not your fault. Probably too stunned by your wonderful skin. Just like mine. I was the last to Impress you know. You always save the best for last.

Canoake chuckled at Tatath's cleverness and kept half an ear on whatever the other two girls were chattering about before turning back in. Oh, now this was interesting! She wished she could be privy to the words the Weyr woman was giving Aislin and... the little red beast. She would have to think on it later. But it might be in her best interest to silently support the crimson once it came time for her to fly. "Harper Hall? I am sure you will enjoy yourself, being surrounded by what you know and love."