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 Posted: Mon Jun 02, 2014 10:55 am
Alcine
Leoth had the look of a predator who'd been locked in a small cage: her eyes were a whirl of orange against her pale green hide, and they darted between each moving party-goer, her haunches raised as if ready to pounch. If not for her thin rider touching her flank, she might have moved to snap at someone who meandered to close, but as it stood she kept to herself, her head low and her eyes watching.
moving!> The little hatchling hissed, readjusting her wings. There were so many strangers, so many people against her and Alcine. What sort of place was this, to give her such a challenge fresh out of the egg?
You don't have to keep track of them, Leoth, they aren't a threat, came her rider's response, scratching at Leoth's ridges slowly as she scanned the room.
Alcine felt a little pang of despair for her Leoth, looking down at the hatchling with a worried gaze. Her deafness was easier to hide from the curious onlookers gawking at her clutchmates, but it hurt her just the same. Under all the angry bravado, she could feel her bondmate's crumbling fear, as much as the dragonet tried to shove it aside. Leoth didn't stand for someone probing around in her feelings, though, and with a steady push Alcine found herself securely in her own seat of mind.
Leoth lifted her head, as if she might be a little bronze instead.
Alcine hesitated, but ultimately pulled herself up from her seat at the tables, her thoughts dizzy as she glanced around her. She had personally much preferred to be seated, as it better hid the fact that her dress was about three turns out of fashion and a smidgen too short on her wiry frame, the soft green overdress falling just short of her ankles. Her mother had sent her more current dresses, more in keeping with the times and her lofty height, but Leoth had insisted on matching, and in a moment of defiance Alcine had agreed to it, at least until they'd been through the doors and Alcine found eyes on her. Watchful, scornful, judgemental eyes that surely glanced down at her immodest ankles.
But she had to stand tall for her Leoth, to show that her weyrling class was going to be just fine, and with practiced steps she walked over to a familiar throng of her peers, watching the youngest weyrling from afar. "Her name is Vanavia," Alcine interjected from behind, pulling at the edges of her sleeves to try and stretch them to her wrists. "She's new, but I haven't heard much else."
Shylla
Shylla was terrified, waiting in the halls outside the feast.
She had a right to be terrified, didn't she? Of course she supported Venk and Hiraeth, and she intended to keep her promise to him, but so many people were talking already, and Shylla didn't like it. There hadn't been so many eyes on her and Evmeth in Turns, and as nothing good had come from those attentions, she had less than optimistic views of her current situation. She had to be strong for Venk, for Jess, for everyone who'd had so much taken from them by the affairs of politics, but shaff it, for once Shylla wanted to be sixteen and selfish and hide herself away from the rest of the shaffing weyr, politics be damned. Now was not the time, though, not if she wanted respect from the wingriders, from the weyr as a whole.
came Evmeth's voice, soft and reassuring.
Shylla let out an exasperated sigh, tears brimming in her eyes. What sort of goldrider was she, if she couldn't handle any pressure, if she'd been putting it all on her Evmeth? She huffed once to strengthen her resolve, blotting her eyes. Shylla was not a frightened little candidate anymore, nor was she about to break to an audience. She was a rider of High Reaches, her Evmeth was clutched by the finest gold she'd ever seen, and by Faranth's egg she was going to act like it. Chin up, shoulders back. It was time to make an entrance.
When Shylla rounded the corner of the dining hall, she was all smiles, the way she'd seen Venk enter hundreds of times. Her overdress had the color of spun champagne and billowed out from her cinched-in waist, the edges embroidered with golden filigree, and she wore a thin golden chain around her neck, as befitting her station. For once, her dark brown hair was down, falling in loose curls around her round face and down her back. Woven in with her hair were a series of green flowers, crafted out of ribbon, and their stray ends mingled with her wavy locks, a vision of youthful spring. Should anyone question where her loyalties stood that evening, she'd also chosen to wear a sash of green at her waist, a nod to the Weyrmaster and his choice in clothing. To further her point, she crossed the dining hall with purposed steps, giving Venk a low curtsy at his seat.
"Weyrmaster," she greeted, using a formality only offered when in the public eye. "Congratulations on the clutch, and on the new class of your candidates moving on to weyrlinghood." She flashed a glance at the other riders at the high tables, a look of daring in her eye. Let someone utter a peep about the state of the dragonets in her presence, let them.
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Posted: Mon Jun 02, 2014 12:16 pm
“She was the stands Impression, right? That’s got to be tough - I’ll go say hello in a minute” Rensoua asked, turning to Alcine - she recognised her, but only dimly, and largely from the hatching. The young woman had lost touch a little with the candidate corps since her own Impression, something she regretted now. “It’s… Alcine, if I’m right? I’m Rensoua, of That Brown Lump Sleeping Through The Whole Thing. And your green is…?” The poor beast looked decidedly uncomfortable, and Rensoua was glad that they were no longer capable of harming humans - there was a rather wher-like cast to the creature's eyes.
—
“Talking’ll get easier” M’ere offered absently, ignoring Tarazeth’s own comments on the whole thing - her partner found just talking dull, because… well, there were things to be done! “At least, I don’t think that was meant for me… and they do rather have that ability, don’t they? I can see Masterhealer Bereck from here, so I shouldn’t try anything too strenuous - although he’s got his arm in a sling and walks with a stick besides, so I shouldn’t worry too much. You can probably still outrun him”
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Posted: Mon Jun 02, 2014 1:03 pm
“It certainly speaks to his arrogance and license with the Weyr’s funds” G’vian grumbled, his eyes raking over T’gall harshly enough to strip the flesh from his bones. His hands twitched into fists, then uncurled again slowly. “You’re right, shardit! I should have it out with him - he needs to know that the Weyr won’t support him in this role”
G’vian’s own arrogance in assuming he spoke for the Weyr was, naturally, unspoken.
Ko'ren hesitated a moment but soon nodded. "It's not without precedent, we have the right to bring forward a vote of no confidence... and people trust you G'vian, his glitter won't blind people for long and they will need somebody to turn to." This last was said a little tightly; complimenting the elder bronze rider clearly didn't come naturally to the proud leader of Second Wing, but then nor did complimenting anyone else who was higher up the pecking order than he was. "His reckless spending... I'm sure he can't have afforded all of that even on a Weyrleader's money so where has it come from? Favors promised? Skimmed off the Weyr's coffers? Quite apart from what he's done to Hiraeth and her clutch, which would be enough in itself, we cannot afford a reckless man at the helm at the start of a new Pass."
"Oh look, we've not been totally snubbed Venk; direct family is in attendance," said T'gall with a little grin and a playful nudge to the Weyrmaster's ribs.
"Biran, the second son," Venk murmured to himself, smiling a little more as the youth approached - he'd got good at public smiles over the turns.
"Right, and he can go back and tell his father what fine fettle our wings are in and our hunts for that matter. We can show them off to him before his ride home." The Weyrleader waved his hand briefly but not in greeting to anyone, it was a gesture to his firelizard who disappeared with a sharp little crack, only to re-emerge moments later clutching a pair of golden goblets. Each one was set with eight stones; one piece of tiger's eye, two pieces of lapis lazuli and five of jade.
"One each," he grinned, taking both from his flitt and pressing the second into Venk's hands. The cups were not new, only the stones, but nobody else needed to know that now did they? Let them think the goblets had been cast for the very occasion.
Venk took the cup in a state of mild shock but thanks to all that practice his smile remained. "T'gall this is-"
"Fantastic, I know," the bronze rider grinned and winked. "Don't you worry, we'll brazen this out," he added, leaning in to murmur to the Weyrmaster alone. "I won't have anyone doubt that we think this clutch is as worthy of celebration as any ever laid.”
Luckily Venk was saved from trying to find a way to reply to that - because he agreed but- yet- his dragon and-! - by the appearance of another gold rider. "Shylla," he said as he turned to her, his smile remaining in 'polite' mode but his eyes warming at the sight of her.
"Thank you; we're glad to have come through it alright and that every one of them Impressed safely, with only one notable injury too!" Well, at the Hatching itself anyway; the less he thought about the Touching - the twitching - the better. "Your dress is beautiful," he added, gesturing lightly at it with the hand that did not contain a very expensive statement in the form of a goblet. "The colour is very becoming on you." It was but that wasn't exactly what he had meant.
The Senior Gold's voice came to her daughter like a lilting melody, weary today and playing in a minor key despite the festivities.
The whole Weyr was celebrating… and that included two drudges in what must have passed for their gather best, no doubt provided by the Weyr, who were well into their cups. Both were dressed in a fairly unisex gown and hose, though the woman’s was cut longer - to the ankle - and they were dyed a cheap earthy orange-red. They were quarrelling about something, from their raised voices: the woman (a tall and muscular lady, with dark skin and hair that had been painstakingly braided and put up - the work of a few hours at least) snapped something at her male companion about “and it’s not yours anyway!” before turning and smacking straight into Vanavia.
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Posted: Mon Jun 02, 2014 1:44 pm
Why is he wearing all of that?
"To prove his station."
Yes, but why? Doesn't everyone know who he is anyway?
"It's his right to wear it. Only high up people can wear gold and purple, they are very expensive." Vanavia did her best to keep her voice down as Horteth questioned. It was the first negative emotion she had felt from him. Distaste. Horteth did not approve of T'gall's attire. Not one bit. He understood it was expensive, but it was a waste. There were people here who's clothes were far less flashy and, Horteth was certain, had worked much longer to get them. It wasn't right for him to be casually shoving his wealth in their faces just to 'prove his station'. Station or no it was unfair and shallow. Horteth did not approve at all and it concerned him that Vanavia was completely unaffected by it. Saw it as a right even. It troubled him deeply.
"It is not as though he-" Her statement was abruptly cut short, potentially for the best as she was about to claim he had surely earned the right to it, as a woman who was far larger than her collided with her. The force sent Vanavia straight onto her rear with a rather painful bump and an appropriately lady-like peep. "My apologies!" she blurted out instinctively looking up at the woman just as Horteth tumbled in. The blue had turned at the moment of collision and tried to hurry over to his fallen rider. Sadly his hurrying only caused him to stumble over his large feet and end up falling onto his rider. This sent Smith tumbling off, though he did try in vain to hold on long enough to leave small scratches on the young dragon's face. Smith went rolling away and collided with a nearby person's boot, shrieking his protests as he tried to pick himself back up. Vanavia, dragon in lap and firelizard throwing a tantrum, could not have gone any redder as she stared up at the people around her. If the ground could just swallow her now that would be lovely.
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Posted: Mon Jun 02, 2014 2:00 pm
A firelizard has just bounced off his boot.
C'tis narrowly resisted the urge to kick the beast but only because he quickly realised that it belonged to the Weyrling who'd Impressed from the Stands; Thread take him if he managed to make one of the babies between in shock at an errant boot into a creature he shared a mutual bond with after all the other crap they had survived. Instead of lashing out with his feet therefore he drew the rage in and sharpened his tongue against it.
"Oh my, I am so behind the times," he declared in whiplash tones. "I must not have been paying attention when it became the fashion to not look where you're sharding going." The cheaply dressed woman drew the worst of his searing glare - drudge no doubt, stupid woman - but the Weyrling got a shot of it too because what business did she have owning a firelizard at her age? He'd had to save for a long time to afford his!
Speak of the Thread and it's bound to fall; Fang appeared with a screech and alighted on C'tis' broad shoulders with his wings flared and eyes flashing red and orange.
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Posted: Mon Jun 02, 2014 2:25 pm
The woman had stumbled and was now recovering her balance with the help of her companion - whom she swiftly pushed away, shooting him a glare.
“Well I’m very sorry!” she announced, hands on her hips. “Must be my fault, mustn’t it! Because I’m the drudge! Well shaff you all!”
“Merinde, you have had enough” the other drudge interrupted, shooting a rather terrified glance at C’tis - and then across down at the weyrling and dragon. “Please, sir, excuse her, she had a shock earlier and we are just leaving!"
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Posted: Mon Jun 02, 2014 3:52 pm
The man's tone made her flinch and it was only the idea of what people would think if she sat there cowering that managed to get Vanavia to pick herself up off the ground, helping Horteth steady himself as the rider continued. What was his problem anyway? Why did he feel the need to get involved, he'd just made the woman angrier. This hadn't concerned him and it looked like he was just spoiling for a fight. The woman was clearly well into her drink by this point and it looked like he might just get one. We should do something. They shouldn't be fighting.
The woman seemed upset to Horteth and this rider wasn't helping. Horteth didn't understand his aggression and he couldn't help but think that part of the comment was aimed at him. He had been looking where he was going, his feet just didn't move the way he wanted them to sometimes. The blue dragon looked down and lifted a forepaw slowly flexing and moving his too many toes. It was hard to keep all of them in line when he walked. Vanavia was pulled away from comforting her dragon by an angry sounding shriek, quickly followed by a frightened one. Turning her head she saw Smith backing away from the man and his angry firelizard. Vanavia had developed few reasons to dislike a person in her life, but this man had just set a record. In as many moments he had made her feel embarassed. Made Horteth feel bad about himself when he was perfect and his firelizard had upset Smith when the poor blue was only a baby. Vanavia's jaw set as she scooped up the young blue and placed him on her shoulder. "It wasn't anyone's fault. It was an accident. No one is hurt. Nothing is broken. So I suggest we all return to our own affairs." Technically she wasn't being rude. Well, as not-rude as she could be speaking out of turn. Although the first part had been directed at the woman who had bumped into her and was said quite calmly and politely, there was a barely civil bite to the last part as she turned to look at C'tis.
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Posted: Mon Jun 02, 2014 4:03 pm
Sleuth murmured marking practice speaking and replying silently, next to watch the sharding healers.
“No, Sleuth mentioned something about T’gall’s clothing and I do have to agree with her.” Yevalee replied, slightly flushed. They would really have to practice that, it wouldn’t do for him to be seemingly having one sided conversations. “I think we would have a rather close foot race,” Yevalee added, smiling slightly at the thought. Though poor Masterhealer Bereck.
Slueth questioned, head tipped as the firelizard, and the possibility of spies briefly crossed her thoughts.
Yevalee shifted, looking where Slueth was and ahh softly. “T’gall does seem to be trying to prove a point with the show of wealth. I don’t believe Venk is very pleased with him.” He took his cup and slowly sipped the juice. It was hard to tell, but something suggested that T’gall was not giving the elder gold rider a chance to protest.
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Posted: Mon Jun 02, 2014 4:13 pm
"I'm blaming you because you're a drunken idiot, station in life not withstanding," C'tis snapped at the drudge woman. "Do yourself a favour and get out of my sight as your friend suggests, won't you?" That was the trouble with giving drudges free access to strong drink, a large number of them just didn't seem to be able to control themselves. Then again he supposed if he couldn't have it often he'd get carried away too... and that was enough being charitable.
C'tis turned to Vanavia with a happy, happy smile. "Well," he chirped, "aren't you little lady manners? Congratulations, by the way. Why don't you skip along, then, and enjoy the celebration that's been laid out in your honour. You wouldn't want to be wasting any more of your time with me I'm sure." Stuck up little Hold girl, probably would have dropped out of Candidacy if she hadn't Impressed from the Stands. Given there were so few healthy dragons in this clutch to begin with - make that apparently healthy, who knew what was going on inside them - that one of the whole ones had chosen such a pathetic excuse for a candidate was galling to say the least.
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Posted: Mon Jun 02, 2014 6:00 pm
"Definitely draws attention doesn't it?" Kidder noted, meaning the girl from the stands as he tucked her name into his memory. "...So does that He added, glancing back toward Venk and T'gal. There was a ridiculous amount of gold being waved around at the moment and it made his lip curl in a combination of astonishment and disgust.
"Keralder, and this is Marloth. You can call me Kidder though." He added to Alcine.
"What do you think of all this then? I'm curious to know what's going through everyone's mind."
The sound of raised voices had also caught the edge of his attention, but he didn't have an ear on it quite yet. Not that he was entirely surprised by the fact that some kind of an altercation had started tonight.
His own Gather Best was little better than a relatively new suit of grays with as little wear as he could find, and fashion had absolutely nothing to do with the matter. Someone had taken care to do a little stitching to it though and for the generic thing it was, it actually fit him fairly well.
"Please tell me whoever is fighting isn't arguing over someone's dress matching." He added with a sigh of tedium.
"Wait, what?" Apparently he was tuned like a nocturnal predator to the word drudge because he and Marloth turned in unison to look in the direction of the conversation, even though he'd only caught the one word out of it, and was trying to piece together the rest of it from circumstance. "Did someone actually catch that? Not the cups... the argument." He demanded.
going down.
Marloth latched on to Keralder's sudden burst of interest and energy and poured her version of gasoline onto the fire. ALL OF THE TRUTH MUST BE UNCOVERED.
Keralder demanded uncertainly, trying to picture what anyone would gain from this. o one wanted to be a drudge. Who on earth would pretend to be one? What kind of sinister agenda did you have to have to... well they were very easily to overlook, but even then someone would probably... well... maybe they wouldn't notice. Or if they did they might be ignored.
.......This was probably a very bad train of thought to start buying into but Marloth made it sound tantalizingly likely with her passionate conviction.
...The woman's hair though. That helped sell him on Marloth's ideas though. What drudge had time to spend that kind of time on their hair? How... odd. His mother he knew generally put it up in something easy to maintain and out of the way, for practically any given occasion.
-----
Aldrey
"I-it's a h-hand me down. M-my brother had it commissioned. He um... said something about it being overdyed and then it t-turned a batch of laundry sort of..." he trailed off, adjusting the garment uncomfortably. "...Apparently he t-thought I could f-fix it but I w-washed it out another f-four times and it keeps b-bleeding dye. I d-don't know what color it will be once all the e-extra color is gone."
He'd soaked it in every Mordant he could think of before the rinses too, and found the results had at best... well he was hoping he wasn't going to be sort of red-purple when he took his shirt of. He was pretty sure he wouldn't be. Mostly.
He was definitely sure that thing were getting very very very interesting and his attention was struggling to be in far too many places at once.
vote of no confidence. Angry drudges who might have drunk too much but were hinting at an definite undercurrent of disconentment, THOSE CUPS.
"T-those cups!"
The cups. Talk of spending. Were there records? Someone had to know. Oooh shaff...
His eyes flickered away from the conversation at hand, and he raked his fingers over his scalp as though to bring order to his short growth of hair, only somehow managing to make it look like a very short black spray of even greater chaos and almost dropping the contents of his plate as he attempted to distractedly juggle it in his other hand.
"I don't have enough ears tonight." He complained, quietly, to no one in particular.
Or eyes. He watched the exchange of cups, the lean...
The drudges though. Shock earlier? What shock? But the cups... but the vote of... How against T'gall were things?
"I...I don't know about the clutch. T... the one with the foot... I don't know. B-but s-she didn't seem... she wasn't bothered by it. T-they're... I mean they're not runners. I... I mean w-we can't say they shouldn't h-have lived because w-we don't like how they... I mean...
... I mean m-most people didn't think I w-would... ....would you know... Nevermind."
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Posted: Mon Jun 02, 2014 6:29 pm
ZarikeZarike was late. There was no denying that, but at least it looked like there hadn't been any form of ceremony in his absence. The brown at his side was gleaming with oil, but looking rather more tired than normal. Still, the slow whirl of his eyes shone bright with blues and greens and the nearer they got to the center of the festivities the more he seemed to perk up. Look how many people have gathered for us! Peth had been told somewhat of what was to happen tonight, how the feast was going to be presented for the entire clutch now that all were hatched. What the dragon heard though was that there was to be a feast for him and his rider specifically and that they were to be honored in some fashion. Your clutchmates too. Zarike replied, half distracted by a thick slab of meat on a passerby's plate. I hope they're not out of ribs! He'd had them before on feast days. The short, marinated and grilled ones were his favorite by far. If marks weren't an issue, he'd gladly hire someone to cook those for him every night for dinner. (Knowing Zarike though, he'd probably pay the man a fair wage, and look the other way if there happened to be an extra serving left over at the end of the night that wasn't there come morning). They'd better not be! Peth lowered his head and dove straight into the crowd, using his nose to guide him in the direction of the buffet tables. He did try to avoid running anyone over. He really did, but there was a lot of him trying to wiggle it's way past legs and skirts and well... where the head went the body inevitably followed. Zarike kicked up his own heels and hurried after his dragon, slipping past with quick flung apologies to anyone who'd not got out of the way in time. Wait Peth! Zarike slowed as he caught sight of the confrontation between a pair of drudges, one of his fellow weyrlings, and a rider from Second Wing. Straightening up, Zarike approached at a slower pace and stopped just behind Vanavia's shoulder. Yes, this was a rider of one of the wings Zarike aspired to but she was of his class, younger than the adult rider, and hadn't even been prepared for Impression this morning. "Is everything ok Vanavia?" It was a small class, it hadn't been hard to get the names of the few he didn't know that well. He didn't know at all what the situation was, but he didn't like the way C'tis was looking at Vanavia at all. Zarike rarely needed much of an excuse at all to feel protective over someone.
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Posted: Mon Jun 02, 2014 7:20 pm
“Should I suggest wingleader’s Jasiline and Sanuyeth, terrors of the night sky, wait… do wing leaders get to wear purple?” Now he couldn’t remember. Ugh. He snick, nodding at the pants. “Boots are necessary wear, especially when dancing. Never know how heavy your partner is till they step on your foot.”
Brishen paused, listening and frowned looking over the shirt. “Strange, could write to my mother and see if she has any suggestions for you, Aldrey.” She likely knew something to get clothing to stop bleeding dye everywhere. It had to be some sort of basic weaver lore. Possibly. Journeyman weavers likely knew it at the very least.
“Cup, what? Ooh, those cups.” Brishen looked them over, the best he could and tipped his head in thought. Gold, and he wished he could get a better look. Taking in T’gall’s new clothes and ornaments and he had some idea what they could cost. “Can’t tell from here… but I don’t think they are brand new.” You couldn’t refurnish glass, it broke and it was broken. Metal… had a lot more potential and…
“Breathe Aldrey, before you cause Pip to have a fit.” Brishen leaned over and gently smacked his fellow blue rider between his shoulder blades. “And not much we can do but see what is going to happen. Outside of the brown, most of them just have physical oddities and they should be fine.” As far as he knew they were going to be fine. “No need to upset the kiddies.”
Crest have a gleeful noise, managing to get a hold of a piece of dangling fatty scrap and pulled.
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Posted: Tue Jun 03, 2014 2:50 am
Aldrey:
"Ooof!" Aldrey rocked slightly under the friendly hit, caught by surprise and looked embarrassed.
"W-would you? I ... I um, tried s-seeing if it would set but it.... it doesn't work... I d-did reading a-and I think it's ju... I think it's over saturated. T-the dyer he b-bought it from was n-new and um... w-well I think th-they may have j-just been overenthusiastic."
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Posted: Tue Jun 03, 2014 7:58 am
There was no way that smile was genuine and Vanavia didn't believe for a second it was. She really didn't like this man, whoever he was or whatever wing he belonged to. Luckily for her though the dislike was managing to keep her nerves at bay, although how long that would last was questionable. Her smile stayed plastered on, even despite comments laced with insults. Did this man just make a point of turning on everyone he came across? "I would be hard pressed to enjoy the celebrations knowing that an innocent mistake was being unfairly blown out of proportions." Why was she still talking? She'd gone too far to back down now. Perhaps it was still her anger over his comments upsetting Horteth that did it. The blue had since crept up behind her and was looking up at the situation, silently lending his support to Vanavia. It had been an accident and this rider was being unfair to the woman. She had only bumped into Vanavia, that didn't make her an idiot. It said nothing of her intelligence at all and he was proud of her to stand up for someone, even if doing it out of anger wasn't really the he'd like for her to go about it. A voice behind her had Vanavia turning her head, her smile stayed, but seemed a tad more pleasant when turning toward Zarike. She didn't know the other Weyrling, but she had heard of him. Peth made him rather distinct. It was nice of him to ask, but Vanavia didn't really want that he ended up getting a wipe of this rider's sour attitude as well. The man seemed just as confrontational as the woman, at least she had the excuse of being drunk. "Everthing's fine. This lady and I just bumped into each other by accident and since nobody is hurt I was just saying that there was nothing to worry about."
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Posted: Tue Jun 03, 2014 2:29 pm
“He’s supporting you” M’ere said - because why not take the opportunity to do a little education? T’gall might not be as liberal as she might have wished, but… well, it wasn’t like she was planning to leave her home ‘cause of it. She couldn’t quite make out the design from here, but she had a few ideas. “Saying he doesn’t give a shaff that half the clutch are misshapen in some way, ‘cause they’re their clutch, and look how hard he’s celebrating. Same reason - ” she gesticulated with her cake again “- this is such a good party. Complete with people drunk already”
…should she go intervene in that? She could hear C’tis getting shouty and sarcastic from here, and that was with her back turned…
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