Logs:Iesaryth and Reisoth's Hatching Feast
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| RL Date: 25 August, 2014 |
| Who: V'ros, H'vier, Tayte, K'zin, Jadzia, A'ban, Lycinea, Ulyana, Farideh, G'laer |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Iesaryth an Reisoth's clutch hatches. There's a hatching feast. |
| Where: Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 15, Month 8, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Dawn. |
| OOC Notes: We were very ambitious. It didn't go well. |
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| Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr Stalactites hang high above this enormous cavern like a jagged chandelier or an inversion of the Spires themselves, but shadows cling to them instead of light. Below lie great tables arranged in rows, each large enough to serve a fighting wing, while in the nooks and alcoves around the cavern's edge sit more sensibly-sized tables, from six- and eight-seaters down to intimate spots for just a couple of diners. The only really open space is around the kitchen entrance, smelling of food and rarely quiet, and by the nearby serving tables with their long buffet of the day's offerings. Tapestries on the smooth walls -- some faded and others newly woven -- only slightly mute the sea of sound when a meal is in full swing, but they add cheerfulness augmented by the glowlight from wall sconces and the centerpieces of each table. Still, shadows always creep along the ceiling and into the mouths of the exits -- the myriad small hallways at one end of the cavern and, at the other, the twisting tunnel to the bowl near an array of coathooks and and hatracks -- and late at night, when the glows are allowed to dim, the chamber can seem very dark indeed. Eggs! Dragons! It's all very exciting, of course. The Weyr knew days before to expect it and preparations were made for the smashing good time the hatching feast is turning out to be. Hatching feasts happen at all times of day, but this one started before dawn, what with the near-impossible-to-ignore humming that rattled caverns and sleeping denizens alike. The vintners have made an extra effort to have various spiked hot and other breakfast beverages available in addition to the usual fare of wine, beer, and just about anything else. The breakfast buffet is enormous and no doubt the kitchen staff worked through the night to produce such quantity and variety. Lya certainly looks like she could do with more sleep, in her usual shabby garments and apron as she condenses one platter of meat onto the top of the fresh one that she puts down and collects a few cups that have been left on their lonesome along the tables. One wistful glance is cast to where the harpers play lively music for those that are choosing to dance in the space cleared for them. Given that the hatching of the day was made up of his very own dragon's offspring, it's of course no surprise that once H'vier shows up, he's set to play the part of proud quasi-daddy, accepting congratulations and mingling with those Importanter People that came for the festivities. That he occasionally has his eye on a young woman that sort of lingers around the periphery of his company might be noticed by certain (crazy) exes. Thank the shards and shells that Farideh is a laundress! Handling hot food and refilling dishes is not what she wants to be doing when there's a 'party'. She's settled herself on a bench near the dancing, a plate balanced precariously on her knees. At her elbow is a rather sheepish-looking bluerider, slouched where he sits, making a good show of trying to get the brunette to laugh. Though she bends amused glances on him, he's yet to elicit any sounds other than mild disapproval. He's drinking something bronze in color, possibly brandy, and keeps gesturing to the couples twirling in and out of each other's arms. It's quite dizzying, really. Time to do something other than lessons and chores and running around is a fine time to take advantage of and Jadzia's going to take as much advantage as she possibly can. She's already got herself a drink, though whether it's her first is anyone's guess. She'll avoid any greenriders named G'laer that she might see and instead set her attention on a young, handsome bluerider. Imagine that! Jadzia's capable of acting like a nice, sweet girl instead of, you know, her usual self. Fortunately, sleep is not something Ulyana requires, else she might protest at the early hour. The temporary Fortian has been here since it began - or, rather, from the moment spectators were summoned to bear witness to the hatching. She's only just arriving at the cavern with a satchel slung cross-wise over her person and one hand resting on the well-latched flap of it. Scarcely more than a ghost of a girl, she drifts instinctively to the fringes, gaze appraising and inscrutable; unblinking and strange. Her expression is impassive, approximately as bland as her clothing - though it could be said it would be nearly impossible to broach that level of dullness. A slow blink ensues and one corner of her mouth draws slightly to one side to match the lopsided twisting of her eyebrows. The task of processing, well, everything is clearly pushing her mental gears to their limit. Speaking of the couples twirling in and out, K'zin, light on his feet as usual, has put on his dance shoes for the occasion. The pretty girl he partners is hardly the first. With Telavi busy with the newest additions to the barracks, the bronzerider is left all on his lonesome. Poor bronzerider. His dark gaze has hit upon Farideh and that bluerider, a look that's almost laughing on his lips, though that might just be the fun from the dance. Tayte's ocean gaze hasn't left H'vier for long; she knows too well that being so big a man means nothing if he wants to slip away unseen. Not that he usually bothers. The pregnant woman is settled at a table, with a plate of food. What good is it to be the size of a tent if you don't get to indulge a little? G'laer is probably content to be avoided, but one would never know it from his typical stony look. One might mistake it for general disapproval of the whole uproarious shebang. He stands stolidly off to one side of the large cavern with only a mug of something to distract him from just watching. His eyes trail Ulyana briefly before settling on H'vier. He must be bored because he starts to move toward the big man. Provoking the bronzeriders is what there is to do for fun around here when things are so dull, right? V'ros is leaning against one of the walls of the massive living cavern, holding it up as it were. His face is impassive - a mask of neutrality in an otherwise joyful room - as his brown eyes take in the sights. He came in with a bunch of the other weyrlings, but they've broken away from each other and, more importantly, from Quinlys. It's here that Ulyana wanders, near the fringes, and within the weyrling's range of vision. His mouth tugs into a frown when he notices here, and he tucks his hands in his pockets. "I've seen.. you, before," he says, pitched at a medium volume, "What's your name?" Ulyana might not be expecting it, and surely, it's loud enough for his words not to be heard, but his stare is intent on the girl. It's likely that Oliwer is held up in the infirmary, as is too often the case. People still get hurt whether there's a hatching or not, sometimes especially where there's a hatching. Fortunately, none of the new weyrlings came off the sands with more than a scratch, so it can't be that. Fortunately for Tayte, H'vier has no intention of slipping away this early. There are too many people to congratulate him on the healthy clutch of hatchlings, not one of which were malformed, and the bronzerider does like a certain amount of attention. Not exactly from G'laer, granted, so he'll probably just wait to acknowledge him until the greenrider does something to draw his attention. She is not oblivious. Ulyana's attention gathers everything up like so many strands - and while she mentally knots things together to make sense, another thread is picked up at the periphery. It's a split second or so before V'ros speaks that her head turns in his direction, slow and mechanical. "Yes. We met at the hatching gallery here. You did not appreciate my questions." The flatness of her voice is natural; it's a strange, dull affect that strips her words down to their bare essentials. The weyrling's second question is answered a moment later. "Ulyana of Crom Hold." And never mind the strange pair of knots she wears that say otherwise; a Fortian and a Candidate-that-wasn't-but-still-is. She doesn't turn to face him; rather, she keeps her head turned to regard him, meeting his stare with one of her own. "What is your name?" A'ban is trying a little too hard and Farideh soon loses interest in his ramblings. He may be talking her ear off, blabbering on and on about weather, but her hazel eyes are skipping off several familiar faces. Someone waves, she gives a polite smile, and turns her head just to roll her eyes. It's in this turning that she spots K'zin-light-of-feet on the dance floor. He makes a turn with his partner, and it's this moment she takes advantage of: to stick out her tongue. Farideh is very, very mature. A'ban looks confused, but he simply shrugs it off and keeps going on and on and on.. "Ah," V'ros remembers now. "You.. get the answers to your questions?" Those questions that irritated him and threw them head-to-head into a debate. He looks disinterested, but the stirrings of irritation are coming back to him; he hated those questions. "Did you ever.. uh, ask that goldrider about her dragon?" - that, well, he can't help the avidness of his stare as he waits for the latter answer. "V'ros, weyrling to Zmeyth. Here.. at.. High Reaches." His fingers reach out to finger his knot; its presence is mostly forgotten on so much occasions, now it is a reminder of his duty to the Reaches. And tonight the part of H'vier will be played by K'zin as laughingly he twirls his partner toward Farideh, just in time for the song to end. He drops, probably too close for either Farideh or A'ban's liking onto the bench on Farideh's other side, grinning and saying, "Don't stick it out unless it's an offer, gorgeous," and reaches for the nearest alcoholic beverage (definitely abandoned by someone else) and downs the rest. Jadzia doesn't dance. Or at least, no one's probably ever seen her dance. Not like they do out on the floor. But still she's found her way to wander along the edge with her drink in hand and that bluerider by her side. They're talking, sure, but she zones out a little bit when she sees K'zin talking to a girl that is most definitely not Telavi. She excuses herself from the company of the bluerider with promises to come back soon before she's scolding K'zin, "You mean to tell me you're taking offers, pretty boy? And you didn't come to me first?" "I did." There's an avian-like tilt to Ulyana's head, but the movement is stiff. "She did not answer my questions satisfactorily and avoided most of them." Still, she turns her attention back to the gathering, forehead furrowed; it's a brief reprieve from the coolness of her gaze. The burden of her stare returns in short order to V'ros. "I am, however, satisfied in my theories. Her responses confirmed my suspicions." True or not, it doesn't matter; it just means her brain won't try to grind away on that topic forever. His introduction is allowed to hang for an uncomfortabe handful of seconds before: "It is a pleasure to meet you, V'ros." Social obligation fulfilled, she turns the conversation promptly to, "Did you speculate on the colors that would hatch from each egg?" A'ban is the most aggravated by the interruption. He openly glares at the bronzerider over his brunette acquaintance's head. This will make it take 'two' where his objective was sidetracked by some arrogant bronzerising asshole! Salt in the wound, buddy. Farideh is less than thrilled herself, flicking haughty eyes towards K'zin and mincing, "Please, spare me the disappointment." She crosses her arms over her chest and opens her mouth to say more, but there's Jadzia and she's momentarily distracted. Her lips pucker into a pout, focus moving between the weyrling and K'zin. A'ban takes the opportunity to slide an arm around Farideh's shoulders, leaning in close to whisper, "Let's give em some space, eh?" She appears offended, leaning quite 'far' away. H'vier is spared G'laer's immediate attention because the path he took from where he was to where he was intending to go brought him to an abrupt stop in front of Ulyana and V'ros. Both get a look, but Ulyana gets his attention more than the weyrling. His lips, as usual, are set in a thin line. "Ulyana," he recalls the name from somewhere, and then politely, "Weyrling V'ros." The terse greeting is nothing out of the ordinary for this greenrider. K'zin is grinning as he sets the cup down and looks to Jadzia. "Do you have a weyr yet?" He knows the weyrling rules; does she? His head turns to skip over Farideh to A'ban. "You want me to punch this guy for you?" The offer seems sincere enough. Maybe he and A'ban have history for the dangerous way the muscular bronzerider smiles at the bluerider. Deep grooves form in V'ros's forehead; they're a sure sign of his troubled state. "You went ahead and.. and.. 'asked' her?" he sounds disbelieving, shaking his head as he speaks, before and after he speaks. Then, he goes silent, completely at a loss where this 'female' is concerned. Never fear, G'laer is there to pick up the slack. Nervous brown eyes lift at the same time he gives a quick salute to the greenrider, and proper a nod. "G'laer, sir." There's still no Oliwer, and H'vier is continuing to be really uninteresting for Tayte to watch. Jadzia glances between A'ban and Farideh for a moment, but her real interest is apparently in K'zin. She must have left the sweet girl with that bluerider. "What do I need a weyr for when yours is so big and inviting?" Of course she knows the rules. That doesn't mean she follows them all the time. "Oh, you should punch him anyway." Exciting! "How else can I get answers if I do not ask? She fled rather than respond to all of the questions. That is telling enough." Ulyana offers that to V'ros without hesitation; if she's confused at all, it's at his disbelief. And then the greenrider makes three. It takes a moment. Just one. Ulyana's attention swivels readily over to the newcomer uttering her name. Recognition registers, but her tone is apologetic as she intones, "I know you." Her brow knots itself and her mouth contorts as she continues to study G'laer - but the result is an expression of mild frustration that can't quite be smoothed out. "I am sorry. I do not remember your name - but I know your face." No need to indicate where; he knows her name and that's enough. "You delivered things to the Healers, correct?" A'ban takes offense, as A'ban always does. He jerks his whole two-hundred pound frame up from the bench and looms over his seat-mates. "What'd ya say, ya fucking ass?" His beefy hands are already clenched into fists, raised about waist-height, as he sneers at K'zin over the girl's head. Jadzia gets a sneer too for her instigating. Farideh just rolls her eyes, touching two fingers to the split between her eyebrows. "I wish I was 'anywhere' but here. I would 'love' to wash some laundry about now," she mumbles to no one in particular. It's Lya who elbows H'vier's side from behind as she tries to move past him with a tray of pastries, grunting when unsurprisingly Much Bigger Manflesh doesn't yield to her slender, short frame. "Move," because a 'please' would wither and die before it left her mouth. H'vier doesn't move because he was told to, but he does move to look at the source of that demand. It probably doesn't make Lya any happier that he grins at her the way that he does. But, hey, he moves. Though that might just be in part because her interruption has given him an excuse to dismiss himself from his current company and go find that girl he's been eyeing off and on for some time now. Clearly she needs some comforting and who better for the job! "Some questions 'shouldn't' be asked," V'ros all but growls, shifting uncomfortably against the wall. Not that she would understand. He is unwilling to meet her eyes, instead letting his gaze slip towards the revelry at the front of the cavern, to the spinning, twirling partners in a myriad of colors. G'laer and Ulyana's conversation brings him back around, nosiness evident; their knowing each other takes him by surprise. 'Anyone' knowing that strange girl is a surprise. That bluerider is getting impatient now, apparently, so Jadzia cuts her visit trying to start a fight short. "You kids enjoy yourselves now. And don't you ever say I never offered you anything nice, K'zin." The weyrling blows him a kiss and her company looks like he might be jealous until she reaches for his hand and starts to drag him off. Probably to get her another drink. "For my grandmother," G'laer confirms, "Gallagher once, but G'laer now," the greenrider confirms for Ulyana and says, uncharacteristically, "It's good to see you looking well." But then another surprise: G'laer is greeted by a wingmate and he excuses himself from the two younger people. Tayte has sad, sad eyes as she watches H'vier go and she heaves herself up from the table. It can't make it easier that she spots another pregnant woman across the room before she's hurriedly ducking out into the bowl. "Ask me again sometime," K'zin calls after the blonde weyrling, then rises, cracking his knuckles. "Let's go outside," he dares A'ban in turn. "It's been too long since I've broken a face." Because that's charming right? Hitting on girls and fighting. Telavi's going to make him regret this night. Then he's headed for the bowl, whether or not the bluerider follows, apparently undaunted by his would-be opponent's stature or manner. No doubt they'll be pulled apart by helpful Weyr denizens before anyone can get so much as a scratch. As for Lya, there's a disgusted look for H'vier and his grin before she's about her work again. The Help is always busy. "All questions should be. Just because the potential answer makes you uncomfortable does not mean the question should not be asked. That is a silly idea." Ulyana blinks once, slowly, at V'ros- and then the weight of her regard shifts anew to G'laer. The revelation of the name is one that settles her expression - and, further, draws an attempted smile to her face. It goes about as well as he might have remembered; she's not a natural smiler, this girl, but she's trying. "I am pleased to see you are well, also. Thank you." And if there are more words to offer the greenrider, they're dismissed as soon as he's called away. Such a thing signals the first real shift in her expression, a slide into sadness that, for the moment, pulls her out of the half-conversation still hanging between herself and V'ros. A'ban will take his challenge! Just after K'zin, the bluerider stalks out towards the bowl, leaving a completely disgusted Farideh in their wake. "This is ridiculous. What happened to 'charming' women and asking them to dance," she shouts after them, but gets up, grumbling, and disappears in the crowds moving between the lower caverns. "It has nothing to do with.. with the answer being uncomfortable." V'ros continues to frown, specifically towards Ulyana. "You're.. you're just disrespecting them. Her. That.. goldrider, from Fort." He runs a hand down his face, as if he could wipe away his frustration. "I don't have time for this," he mutters, heaving away with the wall and cutting the ex-candidate a severe glance before he, too, disappears in the crowds of people celebrating High Reaches's latest hatching. |
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