Logs:Fun is serious business.
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| RL Date: 31 July, 2011 |
| Who: Elgin, Lujayn, Nathalia, Rhaelyn, Taikrin, Ylynna, Riorde, Ali |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Lujayn tries to make sure that everyone has a Good Time at the gather. It's hard work. |
| Where: Orchards, High Reaches Hold |
| When: Day 14, Month 5, Turn 26 (Interval 10) |
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| Ah, weyr-hold-craft relations have reached a new level. Rhaelyn utters a soft laugh at Nathalia's insults, or maybe it's the color that Ylynna is turning. No one could ever claim that Rhae cared much for anyone's feelings save her own right? "Don't you know who I am?" Ylynna asks from between her teeth. It's a smile, but a tight one, all teeth, "How -dare- you, you little bucket of tripe." There's a group of holders around Ylynna and Rhaelyn. The exile girl is dressed up in a glamorous red evening gown with jewels in her ears and in her pinned up hair. There's a side-show atmosphere as they have been gawking at the well-groomed exile on display, that is until the flinging of insults. "Nathalia...." Rhaelyn's voice is quiet, amused, but full of warning. Maybe it's too late for that though, the holders don't look too happy. From Taikrin's wind-reddened cheeks, she hasn't been long at the gather. But at least she's groomed for it, more or less: well-tailored black leather pants, softer than a rider's usual fair, and a snug-fitting cream shirt of some sort of shimmery fabric. She /even/ had her hair freshly cut. She hasn't picked up much yet from the gather, aside from a cup of wine, when the sounds of a ruckus attracts her like a fly to honey. Just one more person to gawk, even if she's got rather more of a smirk on than most of them. Nat just grins, probably more fun than she's had in months, considering how well behaved she's been. "No but let me take a wild guess, some supposedly privlaged holder brat who will likely as not be married off to promptly produce little bastards." There's an almost roar of a laugh. How dare she indeed. "Direct your complaints to the Smith Hall, though likely as not they will tell you the same thing I just did." And with a secret grin to Rhaelyn, the smith sets off to find something a little stronger than Klah to drink. Spotting Taikrin, there's a small frown but a friendly enough wave as she orders a mug of beer. Lujayn heads in from High Reaches Hold. Lujayn has arrived. Ylynna gives Rhaelyn a look of warning, "Your pretty things can be taken away as quickly as they were 'given'." It's enough to make Rhae's shoulders tighten and her amusement fade. "That's right. Good girl." A few of the holders have thinned from the group though, lacking the stomach for any violence that is surely brewing. To Nathalia, Ylynna answers back with pompous retort, "I am Lady Highreaches niece! And a candidate. I'll be getting that gold dragon. You mark my words girlie-girl. And--and--you're a -Candidate-. I'm going to speak with the weyrleader about you running off with that mouth in front of all these fine hold people." The grin is pleased. Yes, she'll get nat in trouble! Meanwhile Rhae just stands there, arms crossing over her bejewed bodice front as a few other gather-goers sneak closer to peer at the exile. A sardonic grin quirks Taikrin's lips at the rant from 'The Niece of High Reaches', though she doesn't linger. Rather, she cuts over to saunter towards Nathalia, drawing beside the girl with both eyebrows raised. "Y'know," she remarks conversationally, "Generally, it ain't considered good form for candidates to be rilin' up the hosts, even if the hosts are overbred and rude. She knocks back wine as if it were whiskey, then adds, "/Especially/ if you got t'share a barracks with 'em tonight. Never know when a girl like that's gonna get someone t'shank you in your sleep." If the Smith catches the discourse between Rhaelyn and Ylynna it doesn't show on her features, though something clearly clicks in her head. Obviously finished with the Holder brat. She just shrugs. "Give Lady High Reaches my fondest regards, and by all means tell the Weyrleader. Unlike some I actually enjoy hard work." With that the gaggle of holders is ignored in favor of her beer and Taikrin. The smith looks up at the brownrider with a grin. "Yeah I suppose I will be scrubbing the latrines tomorrow, but shards and shells it will be worth it." In a quiter voice there's a small laugh. "Shanked? Hardly, I doubt there's anyone with the brass to do it. Well Rhaelyn might. . ." There's a laugh. "Some things though are just as simple as right and wrong, and nobody, not even Rhae deserves to be talked to like that." Lujayn drifts along in the crowds of the gather, making tired small talk here and there with no inkling that the larger tide of curious ears is sweeping her towards a building conflict. It's more the tone and volume that catch her attention than the words themselves, and Lu strikes out on her own path to hedge at the quarrelers' heels. "Shells, what /is/ the matter here?" A glance to Taikrin as tiredness flares into irritation at the whole lot - can't she keep these girls in line? At least Nathalia looks removed. "Duties to your hold," She introduces herself abruptly to Ylynna. "Lujayn of gold Rielsath." She can't bring herself to make more scathing comments, but her gray eyes hold stormclouds. "It sounds like you'll be joining us soon? Congratulations." Ylynna flicks a sharp 'shoo' flick of fingers after Nathila and makes sure she's not going to come back before turning back to Rhae. "Stop fussing. Unfold your arms." A quick adjustment of her dress and the side-show continues with a few new additions drifting past. "Lets see, where were we? Ah yes, as you can see, they are quite harmless." The contrast of the heated smith-candidate and the domesticated Rhaelyn makes a few of the holders murmur their agreement. "But maybe she simply doesn't understand." An older man suggests as he comes closer to get a better look. "Certainly looks healthy enough for a bag of bones. Do they have all their teeth?" Instead of answering the questions about the exiles, Ylynna must preen before the Highreaches rider, "Oh, Goldrider Lujayn." Pretty dimples for the lady, "I'm Ylynna." She doens't introduce Rhaelyn. "I've had the pleasure of your hospitality for a few weeks now. But it's so nice to visit home." "Sure seems to me you got a thing for wanting t'be scrubbing latrines. You got some kinda weird fetish or something?" Taikrin is probably joking: nobody's smirk can be that insufferable while still maintaining a semblance of seriousness. "Anyways, in my experience it don't take much balls at all to go after some poor, sleeping sap. And, well... y'never know." A shoulder rises in a shrug, idly. "Good on you to be lookin' out for her, I guess, but I reckon you probably want to look out for yourself, more. Doubt her sort is gonna appreciate you stickin' your neck out." She twists to glance over her shoulder at the Rhaelyn/Ylynna spectacle, seems about to protest, but then notices Lujayn and subsides. To Nathalia, "There, Lujayn's got it all in hand now. Don't you worry none." Nat laughs, "Nah no fetishes honest, I just figure no matter what I do I get into mischief anyway, may as well be preemptive about the chores that usually follow." She shrugs. There's a thoughtful expression for the comment. "Well between you and me I don't sleep much these days anyway." She follows Taikrin's glance to the now preening spectacle. "I suppose, but your right, she won't appreciate it. She's just as likely to spit venom at me for it. It isn't like I expected a thank you or anything for it either." She studies the brownrider thoughtfuly. "Is that what you do Taikrin? Look after yourself?" there's no accusation and certainly no venom. Just a mild tone and a curiosity in her eyes. "I expect that will be another gold rider I have now /not/ endeared myself too. This is becoming a bad habit." Bag of bones? Teeth? "Thank you sir, we're very well," As if the man had been asking after their health and not sizing someone up like a runner. Lujayn's tone is clearly a dismissal to the crowd, turning her back on them. Lujayn is familiar with Rhaelyn, perhaps not personally but certainly enough so that she steps closer to the other girl. "You're not on display," Speaking directly to Rhae before hissing through her teeth to the preening git Ylynna. "I'm sure I don't have to remind you that as a candidate you're to respect all members of the Weyr. Why don't you find some dear old friend to visit? I daresay they've missed your charming ways." Heavy on the sarcasm. "Better sleep now," Taikrin declares in no uncertain terms. "You end up with a dragon, you ain't gonna be sleepin' much the first month or two. Kinda like babies, wantin' to be fed and play and be oiled at all kinds o dumb hours." Nathalia's question draws the brownrider's full attention for likely the first time all conversation; though there's still the ghost of amusement sketched onto her face, there's something serious and measuring in the way her dark eyes lock onto the candidate's. "Look after me /and/ Szadath," she clarifies. "And the people who matter. And the ones what can't take care of themselves. And the hatchlings. Y'know, someone's got to do it." She doesn't turn to look back at Lujayn, but there is a temporary gravity shift as her attention pings over then back. "And /how/ can you not get on with Teris and Tiriana? They're easy." Ylynna's fine show is slipping through her fingers. She makes a click sound of her teeth as the goldrider comes between herself and the exile-show. "She doens't mind it. Do you Rhaelyn?" It's a last grasp to keep the exile in her clutches for the attention it'll gain her. For a moment Rhaelyn is really stuck, side with the rider, or with the girl who made the bargain with her? "I didn't know that borrowing the dress and things was going to cut into so much gather time." The exile allows and looks to Lujayn, wary but thankful for chance to chew her leg out of the trap. Elgin strides into the orchards to escape the noise from the courtyard, or at least as much as he can. This is his first trip out of the weyr since the exiles rescued and the usually confident boy is looking a little wary himself. His eyes dart between tables and tents but for the most part he is scanning the crowd for people he knows. Rhaelyn is spotted and he moves towards that group, "Hey Rhae..." His voice trailing off as the goldrider is given a salute. "Goldrider..." Nat seems thoughtful. "Really? Hadn't thought of that. It's very different I guess, then again no guarantees that anybody impresses." Nat just meets those dark eyes unflinchingly but a smile works its way over her lips at the riders response. "The hatchlings and the ones who can't look after themselves. . ." She echoes as though confirming something, measuring Taikrin with that look. "Someone does, and usually it is a pretty thankless job." She agrees finally. "Well I haven't met Tiriana, but Teris seemed to take everything I said in the most offensive manner possible." She notes with a sigh, pulling a long drain from her mug. She does let her attention float back for a moment, but it returns back to the brown rider. "This dress?" Lujayn finally notices that people tend to wear clothes. "We'll have it returned in good order by the end of the day, Ylynna. But I'd be happy to escort you to the Weyr if you'd rather have it back." An unpleasant threat, that: chores weighed against a good party. Elgin's arrival is the perfect excuse for the goldrider to ignore Miss-Highreaches-Niece, neatly excluding her from the new trio. "Let me know if you need anything," As an aside to Rhaelyn before the other candidate comes close enough to hear. She relaxes just a bit, a smile clearing through those storm-filled eyes. "Afternoon. Elgin, isn't it?" /That/ little bit about Teris prompts a guffaw of laughter and a clap to Nathalia's shoulder with Taikrin's free hand. "That /does/ sound like Teris," she admits ruefully. "Don't /you/ take it personal. She's having a hard time, lately." She dumps the last of the wine down her throat, then draws the back of her hand across her mouth. A thought suddenly dawns, because she peers at Nathalia's mug with pursed lips. "Hey, you supposed to be drinkin' that? Or is it just weyrlings that ain't allowed? Don't know as I can remember the rules, but I know I remember /somethin'/ like that." Her expression melts away to reveal a lopsided grin. "Worst time of my life, I reckon, havin' to go dry." Ylynna huffs a few empty, "But...it's too late. She's altered it. Ruined it." Ruined everything for the end of Ylynna's gather it seems. "I'll see -you- back at the weyr Rhaelyn." The voice is kind, the look is not. She brushes by Elgin with an elbow and off she goes to rejoin her friends, making no bones about dishing some dirt about how poorly the weyr is treating her after her 'kindness' to the savages. "Well, at least I don't have to say 'Weyr' again to them." Yes, she has an accent. Yes, the way she speaks is 'old and formal'. "Thank you. I think." And to Elgin she flashes a little smile, fixing the front of her bodice again, even with the alterations it swims on her. Nat just smiles. "What has been going on with her Any how? Seems like a lot of folks have been extra prickly." She notes quietly. As her drink is spotted there is a blush from the crafter. "Just not supposed to get drunk I think, wait. . . you have to go /dry/ if you impress?" Clearly the thought had never occurred to her. Elgin isn't sure what he walked into but he doesn't seem surprised when the stranger brushes passed him, though he does wince slightly at the elbow, instead a raised eyebrow and a grin is shot in Rhaelyn's direction, before his attention to turns to the goldrider, "Yes ma'am. It is Elgin. Is everyone enjoying the gather?" His gaze flickers back to Rhaelyn as she adjusts the dress, "Beautiful dress, Rhaelyn." Then he pauses thoughtfully, "Who was that?" Indicating the girl that stormed off a minute ago. Lujayn hasn't had her question answered, either; she doesn't press Rhaelyn for any explanation just yet. "Supposedly one of your fellow candidates," The woman watches to make sure Ylynna loses herself in the crowd before giving her full attention to the other two. "Thought so - I'm Lujayn. I think we can make a day of it as long as the rain stays off. You're enjoying yourself too?" "Ain't my place to go into it," Taikrin brushes off Nathalia's question about Teris, instead choosing to go on about the woes of a weyrling's life. "For, like, a /turn/. 'Cause the hatchlings are in your head, and I reckon they don't /understand/ about why your mind is getting all weird, y'know? You could really flip them out, and then, well, awful things could happen. They get okay with it, when they get older and they can understand more." She wiggles her emtpy wine cup at Nathalia in mute testament. "But until then? Nothing. Not even a /sip/. Terrible." "That was Ylynna." Rhaelyn supplies a name for Elgin on the heels of Lujayn's answer. It's a better time to answer the question once the other girl is off with her friends, "Yes, this dress, and the one I wore yesterday. The deal was, dresses for the gather and I'd spend some time meeting her friends." She shrugs a little, "That is how the weyr does things. Trade for goods with actions." Not a question. As for how she's enjoying it, there's a little shrug of her shoulders, "There are a lot of people." But fun? Perhaps not. Nathalia responds "Shards and shells," The smith breathes horrified at the thought. "And I thought candidacy was bad." She sighs, listening to the testament of weyrlinghood with apt attention. "What's it like, having Szad in your head? I mean, does having him make up for all the chores and what not?" She seems thoughtful. "It is a new experience, and one I am grateful to be having but a little loud." Elgin's tone is light and he offers a smile to the goldrider; a smile which promptly falls at Rhaelyn's comment. He studies her quietly for a moment, "Rhae - Just becareful with all that. It doesn't always work out well." Exhibit A. "You do look good in it though." He turns Lujayn and shrugs softly, "There are so many people sleeping in the barracks I couldn't tell you if someone belonged in them or not." "Chores? Like, candidate chores?" Apparently that question is funny too, because Taikrin is guffawing again. "They never really were a thing. I'm used to way harder work, y'know? Reckon you'd be, too." But her gaze goes distant when she ponders Szadath and her bond, and she's quiet a moment before giving a noncommital shrug. "Hard to remember not havin' him in my head, t'be honest. Feels like he's always been there, like he's-- I mean, he's a part of me. And I'm a part of him." She pauses, then lets out another laugh to dismiss the sober thought. "It sounds weirder than it is, when it gets put like that." "Goods as in tithes for a Weyr's protection, sure, but dresses for.. that?" Lujayn's lip curls in distaste, not particularly convinced. "That's taking it to extremes." She adds quietly in agreement with Elgin's cautionary words. "A beautiful dress for a beautiful girl, right?" Sensing the lack of enthusiasm, she tries to stir some cheer into the air. "Have you gotten a chance to look at any of the booths? Sometimes hanging out with the crafters is more fun than rubbing elbows with holder snobs." Rhaelyn beams at Elgin's compliment, "Well, then it's worth letting some of those mainlanders have a look at me then." At least she can put a good spin on things. "And, Ylynna said that it might make the holders have my sympathy for us exiles, if they could see us and know we were...'safe'." She lifts up her shoulders, "It seemed like a good idea at the time." And no one could accuse Rhae of not having exile benefits first in her thoughts--after herself. "I had some time last evening to look, oh and and there was the dress-booth--that was amazing." Slowly remembering the better parts of her outing. "I heard they were showing off some fancy livestock too, but couldn't get free to see what the fuss was about." Nathalia offers a thoughtful nod. "I suppose that's true, what did you do before you impressed?" She asks mildly, before the conversation turns to lifemates. "I've thought so much about it lately, and I still can't fathom it." She notes with a laugh. "Weird maybe, but it makes sense, I think it would be nice to have that kind of a bond. One 'person' who always has your back you know?" "Oh, you know. Bit of this and that. I'm mine-bred, y'know." Taikrin flashes her free hand at Nathalia, wiggling fingers that bear the stereotypiacl traceries of thin white scars. "There's nothin' else like it. Better'n running with a crew, better'n your best girl, better'n-- well. Anything else. So you better sleep more and worry about Rhaelyn less; dragons like a well-rested candidate." She pauses, then adds with a bit of exasperation, "Hey, listen, you ain't seen Riorde around, have you? Island-girl, 'bout my height, dark hair? Been lookin' for her, and Szad says she's /here/ but he won't tell me where." "Know we are safe by wearing dresses?" Elgin seems skeptical at best, and he crosses his arms, "Though it would be nice if some people would stop treating us like we have a disease they might catch. - Just not sure renting yourself for someone to show their friends is the best way to go about it." He stops short of saying she whored herself out. "There is a whole booth of dresses?" He grins slightly, "I wonder if there is one for robes, the thought of having to sew a white robe doesn't sound all that appealing." Nathalia grins. "Mine bred huh? Remind me to buy you a drink sometime. If it weren't for the mines I wouldn't have any marks at all to spend." At mention of Rhaelyn she just sorta shrugs. "Not really worried about her, and yeah I suppose I can try and sleep, but night time here is just so shelling interesting." The girls brows pull together a moment at mention of the Island woman. "No I haven't but. . . how does Szad know she's here? Did he spot her?" "They'll get there." Lujayn stops the stop-short, sensitive. "It's not their approval that'll get you anywhere, either. Just as long as you do what you're comfortable with, it's no one's business." She grins, still trying to smooth things over. "We'll supply you some old robes and you can fix them up if you want. Doesn't take a master weaver to sew up a tear," Reassuring Elgin, "But they probably have non-candidate robes, something more like cloaks or jackets. But it never hurts to be prepared, there's a good idea." "Happy to get a drink, while you're still allowed," Taikrin agrees distractedly. She's scanning over the crowds again, her forehead wrinkling. "Can sense her. They can feel the minds of people they're familiar with, sometimes, sort of-- I ain't explainin' it right. But he knows she's around, somewhere. I really oughta-- be good, okay? Don't go lettin' the holders rile you up?" Because just like that, she's offering a wave to Nathalia and diving back into the crowd. Rhaelyn rolls her eyes, "Nevermind Elgin." She drawls at him, too weary to get into a sparring match about choices that have already been played out. She smiles happily, soothed it seems. "Sorry Elgin, I was only looking at dresses." But it seems that Lujayn has better information, her smile widens even more, "Perhaps you could come along and show Elgin? I mean, unless he'd like a fixer-upper." "Oh, well that seems easier, besides I'm sure I can talk one of the older islanders into fixing it for me." Could any granny say no to Elgin's face? "I don't mind the hand me down jackets." Elgin comments off hand, "They work just fine, what other kinds of booths do they have? Food?" The young male's stomach growls at just the thought of food. "Naw, I don't mind a fixer-upper, no point in spending marks on it if I can get it without 'em." Beer finished, Nathalia smiles to the brown rider. "Certianly!" She furrows her brow a minute "I will be on my best behavior from this point on Promise." She offers at the retreating brown rider. Getting up, it seems she notices that the crowd she'd been avoiding has dispersed leaving that Lujayn, Rhaelyn, and it seems she finally notices Elgin's arrival. "Hi Elgin." She offers with a smile as she makes her way over, a polite smile and a wave for the goldrider. "Food, and lots of it. Some crafters set up booths - harpers might sell smaller instruments, smiths with their metalworks, that kind of thing. Most folks come for eating and chatting," Lujayn points out the fairly obvious, nodding as Nathalia approaches. "Glad to see you're having a fine day." She doesn't act on any introductions herself. It does get tiring after the first few times. "Lots of people waste marks for the sake of appearance." The goldrider smiles at Elgin: more good thinking. "Not too fussed about that, I take it. I'd worry more about what happens on the day you need to wear the thing." Rhaelyn agrees with the goldrider's information about the food with a nod, "I don't know who likes some of that food though. They had me eat a...what did she call it, a 'pepper'. From Ista I think." She fans at her face with a tragic look for the memory. As Nat comes to join them, she lifts a hand in silence. In a lull in the conversation she says, "Thanks. About earlier." Since she couldn't say anything at the time. "Nathalia, how long have you been here?" Elgin supplies a friendly wave for his fellow candidate. "I can't get enough food these days, I would try anything. Never know what you might like. What was wrong with the pepper, Rhae?" Shifting his weight from one side to the other he nods at the goldrider, "Really seems like the least important part, not unimportant, just you know with everything else the potential life changing experience, the trying not to get run over by a hatchling..." "Lujayn right? I am Nat," Nathalia offers in way of introductions, perhaps realizing that she'd forgotten her manners. As a thank you escapes Rhaelyn the smith just blinks a minute in surprise. "Your welcome. I . . . uh . . . sorry." She offers a shrug perhaps for any complications that might have followed. At Elgin's question there's a bright grin. "Long enough to get myself into trouble and out of it. Oh I have some things for Aella that I got yesterday. Maybe you could give them to her?" She remembers. She laughs at the thought of not getting run over by hatchlings. Lujayn takes a slight step back, letting the younger lot catch up with each other. "If it makes you feel better, they don't aim for you intentionally. Not for the sake of running you over, that is." She smiles warmly. "Good to meet you, Nat. Promise I'm not avoiding you, but I need to sit down for a bit; it's been a long day. I'll be around for most of it, if you want to find me." The rider ducks out with a wave, headed for the long rows of benches where wine and conversation flow.
Nathalia nods. "My favorite spot in the whole Galleries actually, plus it will be nice to have friends cheering for us." Nat adds. "Surely a Gold Rider would merit such a seat? Even a Weyrling one." Nathalia notes with a sly smile. "No need to feel bashful on my account when speaking of their Ilk." Nat comforts the gold rider, with regards to bloods "Farnath knows I bloodied my share of them back at the Craft hall. They aren't all bad, but some. . ." She shrugs as the topic is diverted. "Oh he's probably off trying to find something shiny and impressive to win her over with. He's too shelling brassy for his own good." She laughs, though there is a smile at that thought. Riorde heads in from High Reaches Hold. Riorde has arrived. Rhaelyn doesn't have anything to add to the comments about the blooded folks, but she is making note of what's said. There's a twinkle before she ducks her head slightly, "Huh. Well, I guess so long as I can sit with someone who can tell me what's going on, that will be great." As to the talk of the boy and ways to catch his attention, she laughs, "That sounds rather sneaky. Making someone jealous." Not that she's disapproving, oh no. Not until Nat speaks of sparkling things, "Oh fishbones! He really /is/ brassy. He's going to bite off more than he can chew sometime." "You- you /bloodied/ them?" Ali stares at Nathalia, visibly horrified at the very thought. "You can't do that!" There's no doubt she means that figuratively rather than literally. It's distracted her enough from the conversation at hand that she leans back in her seat, fingers clutching at her mug, gaze flicking between the two Reachians as if regarding them anew. She's seated at one of the tables near the food stalls, talking with Nathalia and Rhaelyn. There's a nod from the Smith. Though she frowns a bit. "I hope he doesn't but you know him. If He wasn't that way I wouldn't stand at making such a small fortune when he Impresses." She laughs. At the shocked gold rider there is just a sly smile. "Only the ones at the Hall, It was ah. . . a different environment there. They picked the fights, I just made sure I walked away. Most of them were too ashamed to admit a woman wooped their tails." Its an honest admission. "Haven't had to do that in quite some time though, not that I didn't want to punch that Ylynna or whatever her name was today. Really Talking about Islanders as though they were runner beasts." There's a click of her tongue. Rhaelyn shakes her head, "Or you'll lose your shirt when he drags himself off the sands." Rhaelyn's sly smile hints that, at least in her mood this moment, it would be worthwhile seeing /that/ expression. Or, she's playing devil's advocate. There's no talk of the bloods being put in their place, until Ylynna is mentioned. Oddly the exile remarks of her 'friend', "She was not talking like we're runners. It was the foolish holders who were asking the dumb questions." "You- you shouldn't do that," Ali says, her voice a little uneven, though there's a note of rebuke to her tone. "Even if they pick fights. You should be above that, and they- you have to respect their rank, Nathalia." Despite her earlier words it's clear the Fortian believes that very strongly. The Reachian's discussion of punching a woman unsettles her, and she clears her throat before something Rhaelyn says catches her attention. She's staring strangely at the girl for a moment, before she ventures, "You're- are you one of the exiles?" Being caught out in the rain this morning seems like a not-so-good idea now, later on in the day; Riorde has resigned herself to slightly damp wool. Still, a dress is a dress, even a plain one, and a gather is a gather, and since she hasn't the marks to throw around and buy something new, Riorde makes the best of it. She comes tables and stalls, momentarily forgetting that she and Rhaelyn aren't close in her eagerness to share her day's finds with someone who knows her. "Rhae! Have you tasted the pies?" "Wow Rhaelyn, didn't know you were interested in seeing me with my shirt off." Oh she knew what the islander probably meant but she just shrugs. "I respect that which deserves respect. And there are Holders I have a very high esteem for. But there are some things in this world which come down to a matter of right and wrong." She shrugs, gathering her empty dishes while standing. "Ali it's been a pleasure as always, Have a nice day Rhaelyn." Nathalia goes home. Nathalia has left. Rhaelyn explains to Ali, for Nat's sake, "She's very...protective." Right? Rhae is protected. Or something. Amusement brightens her features and it only deepens at the rider's stare. She's spent two days standing around letting holders gawk at her, so she poses just so for the Fort rider sitting with them, "I am." The little smile offers an invitation for questions, but it's short lived. First Nathalia is departing and she gives a wave, and then Ri is coming to sit with her. "Pies? Nope. not yet." She motions to the meat, noodles, vegetable dish and fruit-skewers. "Are they worth it? Did you try the peppers?" And at the very end she makes introductions, "Ali, this is Riorde. Riorde, this is Ali, Fort Weyr's newest goldrider. Is that the right way to say it?" Ali turns her head to stare after the departing candidate, looking unsettled still, as she makes an unconscious show of adjusting her shawl. "Protective?" she echoes, as her attention shifts back towards Rhaelyn. "You should- tell your friend, she can't solve everything with her fists. At the end of day, they will still be Blooded." Rhaelyn's admission flusters the Fortian, and she takes a sip of her juice to give herself an opportunity to compose herself. "I- sorry, I didn't mean to stare. You're not what I expected." If she was intending to leap on that invitation and ask a question, it's precluded by Riorde's arrival, and she offers a smile to the arriving woman. "I'm still a weyrling- but yes, that's right. Pleased to meet you, Riorde." Taikrin's been spotted making the rounds several times now; over the course of the day, her fancy leather pants have gotten specked with mud, and there are errant droplets of red wine marring her oh-so-shiny shirt. She shifts the package under her arm, scowling her displeasure at the crowds. But then the crowd swirls in just the right way that she gets a clear shot of Riorde. It's like the sun coming out: she breaks out into a grin and heads over, nevermind that she's approaching Rhaelyn's table. The brownrider appears to be trying for sneaky; she's lined up to be directly behind Riorde, and stalks as close as she can manage -- wiggling eyebrows all the while to try to get across her intention to whomever might be watching -- and reaches out to grab Riorde's shoulder. "They have fruit in them," Riorde says informatively, like it's an important detail rather than something mundane. "Well--there were meat ones too, but I had fruit. Peppers?" Riorde is still discovering food in all its many varieties, so peppers (along with the contents of Rhaelyn's plate) gets more attention than Ali, at least at first. "Nice to meet you," she says automatically, but more interesting to her than Ali's rank and name is the statement preceding: "You can /try/ to solve things with your fists." A sly glance goes sideways to Rhaelyn. With her focus on seeing how the other islander girl takes the dig--or is it a joke?--she completely misses Taikrin coming up behind her. Riorde startles, head whipping around. Fortunately, she doesn't follow with a fist, and after the initial moment of surprise, relaxes into a grin. "Hi." As Ali speaks of not solving conflicts with fists, Rhae chuckles, "I'm afraid that she would only be angry with me if I tried to censor her. She'd take it as some insult from me." As for Riorde's own remark about the fighting to solve things, her nose crinkles, but the smile from the other girl seems to prevent any fire coming into her reply, "Usually you don't get the right results though." She doesn't notice Taikrin until Ri startles and she gives the brownrider a nod of greeting before turning her attention back to Ali, "Don't worry, you haven't caused an insult. I am curious...what you expected though." She is dressed rather fine (too fine?) and groomed to insure she looks cultured rather than some island savage. Ali's brow creases at Riorde's response, and opens her mouth to answer before she catches the glance between the two islanders. Although she might not understand the content, she's cognizant enough to know she's missing something. Instead, she sips her juice, watching the pair, unaware of Taikrin's arrival until Riorde reacts, and as they great each other, she fixes her attention on Rhaelyn. "Angry at you for advice?" the Fortian echoes, visibly confused by this. Her unease lingers, though she tries to cover it with a faint smile in response to Rhaelyn. "Just- rumors," she says, as if to try and dismiss it. "I didn't credit that you wore freshly killed animal skins, but I did wonder if you were- taller," she exhales a smile that is just a little embarrassed. "Hey," Taikrin responds, grinning crookedly at her success. She even includes Rhaelyn and Ali in the gesture, adding, "Rhaelyn and, uh, Fort. Y'don't mind if I join, do you?" Without waiting even a courtesy second for a response, she flops down in the chair beside Riorde. The cloth-wrapped package is set down on the table between them with a muffled thump, and she glances over at the other two before commenting, "I was lookin' for you, feels like all day. Havin' a good time?" And, because she can't contain herself, "I got you somethin'." "You were?" Riorde doesn't mean to completely ignore the other two, but as Taikrin sits down, she has very little attention to spare for anyone else. "It's incredible," she answers enthusiastically. "Never seen so much in one place. Also went round to see the water." Further descriptions will have to wait--"Me?" Wide-eyed delight; Riorde's usual guardedness has been shucked clean off by the gather. She spares a second to glance back at Ali, catching her interest in the exiles' former life. "Fishscales," corrects Riorde, not helping things. "Occasionally shipfish hide." Nevermind that they didn't frequent the waters near their islands; it makes a good lie. "We didn't have animals." "She doesn't trust me. Our friendship is fragile." Rhaelyn remarks with a little shrug. She doesn't state whom, it could be Nathalia or Riorde but more than likely both if the look she slides over at Riorde is any indication. As for Taikrin, the exile just watches her, neither approving nor rejecting her joining them. To Ali's remark of skins she chuckles and adds to Ri's comment of fish-hides, "Well, no animals aside from fish and crbs. Worn more animal skins since I've been on the mainland than ever in my life. They are so soft." Though she didn't answer about the peppers earlier, she does so now, when she catches a break in the reunion of the pair, "The vender there has the peppers, if you want to try them. Ask for the Ista type." Now that she has a chance to view the brownrider, Ali lifts her hand in a habitual salute to Taikrin. "Fort's duties," the woman murmurs, her gaze drawn to the package the brownrider sets down on the table. She leaves the matter of invitation to Rhaelyn, as the first here, and instead says, "Well, I- I don't know what it's like out on the Western isles. This gather's the first time I've been out of the Fort area at all," she confesses, spreading her hands. "You must be loving all the meat, then. I admit, I did eat a lot of herdbeast yesterday- just for a change of pace. We've been a bit short the last Turn or so. Have you tried the Southern fruits? They're so- juicy." "Yeah, for you. Who else? It's a gather, ain't it? I reckon you ought to have somethin' /new/, so..." Taikrin shrugs, a hint of flush entering her cheeks; is she embarrased? She glances at Ali and Rhaelyn again, the injects, "Szad's can send your queen the image, if you feel like explorin' out there. Mostly just cold and wet, though." Beat. "'m Taikrin, by the by. Missed your name." Meanwhile, she's cutting looks over at Riorde and nudging the cloth-wrapped package over her way and asideing, "G'wan, open it." Underneath the wrappings is a beltknife that looks half-dagger. It's plain but well-made, the sort of thing someone who gets in a lot of knife fights might like to own. Not flashy, just solid craftmanship. "Ista peppers. Thanks." Riorde, forgivably distracted, would likely deny friendship, but due to how little attention she currently pays Rhaelyn, the comment goes uncontested. There's a present to unwrap after all. From the way Riorde looks at it, it's safe to assume that presents were few and far between on the islands--if given at all. How could they, when there was precious little to give? She gingerly pulls off the wrapping, and then sits still in stunned pleasure as the beltknife is revealed, as obviously thrilled as other girls would be over jewellery. "Oh--it's /perfect./" Her expression doesn't dim a whit as she turns towards Taikrin with every intention of kissing her, even if it's right there in public. Rhaelyn lifts one of the little skewers pegged with star shaped fruit and melon. "Southern fruits? I don't know if I have. That is, no one has expressly told me the fruit we have is southern fruit." For all she knows what she's eating now might be the very thing. "On the island it was mostly fish." She tells the goldrider, since the other women are caught up in each other and the gift. "Many of us were very sick trying to adjust to all the food you mainlanders have. You have so much...excess." "That's all right. You seem busy with your friend," Ali demurs at Taikrin's offer. Even though she hasn't yet finished her juice, she rises. "I'm sorry, I should- go find my fellows. I'm due another dance, I think. It was lovely to meet you, Rhaelyn, and-" she tips her head at Riorde and Taikrin as if to include them, but doesn't interrupt, especially as her gaze lights on the beltknife and hastily flicks away. The sudden haste that follows might have something to do with the kiss, or might not. Hard to say, as the Fortian's quick in disappearing into the crowd. Ali has left. "Glad you like it." There's still a flush to Taikrin's cheeks, but now she looks insufferably pleased with herself--- and oh look, she's being kissed. Not that she seems to mind, given her enthusiasm. She even misses Ali's hasty excuses, though the goldrider's departure is enough to prompt her to pull back a little to murmur, "I ought to buy you things more often, clearly." Her gaze flicks towards Rhaelyn measuringly, as if to check on her reaction, then back to offer her most charmingly lopsided smile to Riorde. Belatedly, Riorde seems to realise that there are other people around, including ones who might not appreciate seeing her kiss another girl--or girls kissing girls in general. Caught between separate inclinations to express herself as she sees fit, flaunt herself in a show of rebellion, and maintain a sort of reserve, Riorde breaks off with a sudden flush of her own and a smile that is slightly embarrassed. "Thank you," she settles for, and moves to jostle Rhaelyn with her elbow. "Look!" A /knife./ As if fists weren't enough. "What were you saying about excess?" Rhaelyn's only reaction is to watch the departure of the goldrider with disappointment. She isn't paying any real attention to the couple, or at least not showing any opinion about them or their activities. She takes another bite of fruit but when the elbow comes to judge her she jerks a look at Riorde and scoots out of reach of any additional contact. "I see. Yes. Nice." SHe does look at the blade and then the pair before getting to her feet. "I'll just leave you two...to it." And off she goes. Taikrin leans over to offer an overly-broad smile at Rhaelyn, adding, "Ain't it nice?" She shifts back into her seat, elbows on the table and legs sprawled as only one who is supremely pleased with herself can muster. "Don't feel like you got to go running off, Rhaelyn, really. Reckon we can probably manage to keep most of our clothes on. Probably." And now she's half-leering at Riorde again, to drive the point home. "Isn't it?" says Riorde brightly, like being in possession of a nice, new knife doesn't pose any sort of a threat. "See you later." Also not a threat. Right? She picks up the blade, looking at it from all angles and testing its weight. Taikrin's remark garners a smirking smile. Then, with Rhaelyn gone, she adopts a casual tone. "So, any plans for the rest of the day?" Rhaelyn has left. Taikrin certainly doesn't seem to see the threat in it towards Rhaelyn... or maybe she's just ignoring it, for humor's sake. Either way, once the other exile has left, she's free to be as relaxed as she wants; her tension was only apparent after it drains out of her. "Plannin' on seeing the gather, maybe doin' some dancing. Havin' some more to drink, too." Beat. "Planning on doing that with /you/, unless you got somewhere else to be." "Somewhere else, on my last of only two days of freedom?" Riorde scoffs at the idea after a quick look of gratification that her company is wanted; Riorde's learned not to assume, practices it determinedly. "I have to make it last, you know?" "Well, you know, like-- if you got friends or your family or whatever lookin' for you." Taikrin half-shrugs, only a slight twisting of her lips giving hint to how displeased she might be by that event. "Know what you mean. First gather and all-- anything you missed seeing that you want, yet? Or-- did you dance? Do you-- want to?" "I already lost my escort," Riorde says rather carelessly. More responsibly though still nonchalant, she goes on, "Suppose I should let her know I haven't run off without an intention of coming back or something. Rania, that's her name." First intrigued, flattered, and then self-conscious, Riorde grapples with how to respond to the suggestion of dancing. "Yes, but-- I don't know any dances." Not entirely true; a version of a waltz survived on the island, but not knowing if it's the same here as there, she skirts the truth. "That's my girl," Taikrin remarks fondly at this talk of losing escorts, though she's quick to add, "Rania? Easy enough to take care of. I'll just have Szad tell her dragon that we're taking over, and--" Her gaze goes distant, lips compressing in brief effort, then dissolves into a grin again. "-- done. Convenient, ain't they?" Dragons: like texting, only better. "Ehhh, I don't know a lot of them. Or... I don't know 'em /proper/; I can manage most of the guy parts okay, if you feel like trying. Maybe after a skin of wine, though?" Which hopefully Riorde wants, because Taikrin is already flagging down one of the more amibitous vendors who's walking the crowd to hawk his wares. Does Taikrin know how comments like that, not to mention gifts, compound the crush Riorde's trying so hard to play off coolly and casually? The younger woman tries to restrain the delight in her smile and only partially succeeds. "Sure," she says bravely, talking about the dance but letting it include the suggestion of wine, which she nods to. "If I don't know them proper either, then it'll even out. Maybe one of those peppers that Rhaelyn was talking about, too?" Taikrin shifts in her seat, leaning way back to dig a hand into her leather pants, then retrives a couple of mark pieces from what must be a hidden interior pocket. "Skin of red," she orders of the teenage boy festooned with wine skins, offering him one mark piece, while flashing another. "Lady here wants to try some peppers-- you go get us some, and it'll be worth your while, promise." The boy seems eager for the marks in Taikrin's hand, and trusts enough in her knot that he dashes off to go and make the arrangements. "It ain't like we're tryin' to impress nobody," she offers off-handedly, then smirks. "'Sides, we'll look way better'n the lot of 'em doing it, anyways. You got a good dancin' dress." Riorde looks gratified as the boy promptly runs off to get her peppers. "If gathers always have this much food to try, I'll go to every one," she declares before Taikrin's latter comment cues Riorde's self-consciousness; she glances down at herself and can't help but smooth the gray-brown wool over her knees. "Think so? Nothing like Rhaelyn's. It's just from stores. I was here yesterday, just in something everyday, and all the other girls had dresses on - didn't want to stick out." "Always. The ones in the end of summer are worse, on account of all the stuff that's done." Taikrin keeps half an eye on the boy, but otherwise her attention is pretty much on looking that dress up and down. "Rhaelyn looks dressed up like she's got something to sell," Taikrin dismisses, a glower flickering briefly across her pale face. "I didn't think about it-- should've, when I went to pick this up." Fingers flick at her shirt, in particular at the smattering of wine stains on one sleeve. "I'll take you, if you're interested. Dresses ain't somethin' /I/ wear, but I like lookin' at you in this one." Aww. It's charming. Sort of. "Don't pay those holder girls any mind. They ain't worth the thought, most of 'em." "What stuff?" Riorde's intrigued, not put off. "Rhaelyn compensates," she says, prompted to explain her view of the other girl from an odd loyalty despite professed and very real dislike. Leaving off her semi-nervous plucking at her dress, Riorde returns the perusal, glancing at the wine-stained sleeve but looking mostly at the overall outfit. "Deal," she agrees. "I'll wear a dress if you'll wear leathers like you are now. Looks good on you." "Well, a lot of the fruit's in by then, so they're basically givin' away pies. And there's a lot more dancin', and everyone wears less, and then swimming in the water if it's /real/ nice. Races. Competitions. That sort of stuff." Taikrin manages to give the impression that it's all every day ho-hum sort of thing, though the way her lips are twitching into a smile of anticipation might ruin the effect. "Thanks," she remarks with quirked eyebrow. "Deal it is. And where is that--" No sooner has the brownrider turned to look then the boy is back, juggling not only a plate with Istan peppers, but two cups to go with the wine skin. Taikrin isn't stingy with the reward-- she drops a pair of 32nd marks into his hand as tip, then proceeds to start pouring. "Don't know as I've actually had these, yet." Riorde manages to sound more skeptical than disbelieving as she follows Taikrin's descriptions of summer gathers with, "And that's /worse?/" She might quiz Taikrin further, but it'll have to be over food; despite how thin she is, Riorde can eat with gusto, which is just what she does prior to giddy, tipsy dancing. For the most part, Taikrin is happy to watch Riorde eat; it's wine for her, primarily, to avoid being weighted down on the dance floor. Because whatever skill and dance-knowledge Taikrin might lack, she certainly makes up for in raw athleticism. She's likely to keep going until both are ready to fall over, too-- or the Harpers kick them out. Either way, it's a long night of fun ahead! |
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