Logs:Of Graduation

Of Graduation
"I'd like everyone to join me in a toast to High Reaches' newest riders. May they fly far and fast."
RL Date: 9 September, 2007
Who: B'yan, Emilly, I'daur, Kylissa, Madison, N'thei, R'hin, Satiet, Shanlee, Talien, Ywain
Involves: High Reaches Weyr
Type: Log
When: Day 28, Month 5, Turn 13 (Interval 10)
You stroll through the archway, into the living cavern. Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr(#1000RIJs) The impressive living cavern is seemingly as large as the bowl that cradles the hatching sands. Rivers of polished wood tables and benches arrow towards a raised platform crowned with a compact version of their sturdy design. Neatly crafted pegs, some fancifully carved, are tapped into holes in the wall and support clothing dangling like lazy sleepers. Woven baskets, both useful and decorative, hang along another wall. Tiny bouquets of the first hardy flowers are crammed into jars and mugs, dotting the tables with their pastel colors and light fragrance. The faint, musty aroma of wet wool mingles with that of spice. Banners worked with the designs of Holds and Halls beholden to the weyr cascade down the walls high above, interspersed with several brilliantly colored tapestries. Drudges move briskly about the room, unlidding plentiful glow baskets to help banish the thickening dusk. The clatter of pots and pans signal the approaching evening meal. Contents: I'daur Satiet Jemah Obvious exits: Kitchen Bowl Lower Caverns Your location's current time: 17:52 on day 31, month 5, Turn 13, of the Interval. It is a spring afternoon. Decked out in his finery, R'hin strides in from the lower caverns, chatting amiably with one of his wingriders. He's already got a glass of wine in hand, apparently wasting no time in taking advantage of the evening's festivities. Dutifully, he breaks off and does a circle of the room, stopping to talk to various people here and there - in some cases stopped by others - though he manages to keep polite expression throughout all of them. By the time he's finished and his glass is empty, the Weyrleader's expression is growing more pained than polite. N'thei walks into the cavern from the lower caverns. N'thei has arrived. Emilly strides into the cavern from the lower caverns. Emilly has arrived. With her own glass and eye-catching in her dress of warm yellow, Satiet is already in the thick of greeting people, conversing politely with Imena's parents even as the mousy girl stands around fidgeting. Thinner now, Imena withstands the gushing of her parents with a pained little smile that then turns to find a flicker of sympathy in the Weyrwoman's gaze. "I'll be sure," the goldrider concludes, taking tiny steps away as another set of parents catches her eye, "To tell our weyrlingmaster that you love his diet program." Lucky for her, the sarcasm is lost on the doting parents. Where it takes R'hin a walk through the entire room to drain a glass, one chat drives Satiet to drain her glass fairly quickly. Talien has arrived. N'thei attempts to slip in from the lower caverns, where he's evidently coming from after a bath and a shave. But 6'4" and "slip in" don't quite mesh, and he's almost instantly assailed by a J'ome in rare form, jubilant and eager. Making every effort to disentangle himself from the over-eager bluerider, he shakes hands, pours a drink, makes a very mundane remark about the weather, and dumps J'ome off near Imena's parents with a courtesy smile. Bad start. I'daur keeps tugging at the collar of his shirt as he loiters to one side with flask in hand for fortification. He's not one for dressing up much; his clothes are simply among the nicer of his everyday wear as he stubbornly refuses to cave to the fashion demands of the evening. There's already one set of weyrling parents hitting him up, their son looking amused the more his politely aghast parents stare at the hard-drinking weyrlingmaster before he finally manages to drag them away. Of course, that flask is already in need of a refill, faster even than usual tonight. Parties are plainly not I'daur's thing. Shanlee wanders into the cavern from the lower caverns. Shanlee has arrived. Dressed up but not to the nines, Emilly mingles in the crowd, chatting nicely with another set of Weyrling parents, no glass of drink present in her hands which are clasped loosely behind her back. "Oh yes, she did /very/ well in those exercises. You've every reason to be proud. And it's been a pleasure meeting you." I'daur's assistant steps away and catches sight of the Weyrlingmaster himself and steers a course for the bronzerider. "Hanging in there all right?" she murmurs in an undertone, eyes scanning the crowd busily. It's hard to say whether R'hin rescues Satiet, or Satiet is an excuse to rescue himself; either way, the Weyrleader's caught sight of Satiet's expression, and diverts his path towards hers. "Ah, Imena, good to see you-- your parents, I take it? Lovely, good to meet you. If you'd just excuse me, I need to steal our Weyrwoman for a moment." His hand rests almost proprietarily on Satiet's arm, easy smile on his lips as he begins to steer her away. Pale eyes are glittering with amusement as he notes I'daur's predicament, perhaps taking comfort in it, as he murmurs to the goldrider, "More wine? Or shall we get this over with?" "Did you see how often he chugged from that thing?" says the horrified mother to her son. "It's a wonder he didn't kill our poor Lystia with his breath." Only barely managing to replace a smirk with a cough and a cover of her hand, Satiet turns, finding N'thei ditching J'ome to Imena's parents and all efforts to be polite vanish. The smirk takes hold solidly and as the slender woman begins to make steps over, she's intercepted by R'hin, who is then rewarded with a dry, brow lifted look. "More wine." A beat, after which she follows with a low muttered grouse, "I hate these things," which then mutates into a beatific smile as Imena's parents, with J'ome in tow, pass by them again. Compared with the activity going about, Talien's entrance is a quiet affair. Escorted on the arm of a sandy haired male with too-wide eyes for the goings on, she's taken to a relatively less crowded area of the cavern. A few words spoken to her escort have him nodding once and then looking around before he once again steers her in the general direction of several other weyrlings. "I always skipped out on the parties at Monaco," says I'daur to Emilly, or maybe to his flask since that's what he's looking at. "Prerogative of an assistant. They make me give speeches." He sounds almost mournful as he looks up, glancing around until he finds Satiet--she's easy to spot in her bright yellow dress, and there's R'hin on her arm. I'daur gives them a scowl, presumably for the predictament he's forced into. To Emilly again, as he glances around to her: "You all right?" Sidestepping easily to avoid human collision which seems almost inevitable given the press of the crowd, Shanlee deftly scoops up a glass in one hand and follows on the heels of a fellow wingrider. Her attire this evening a simple sheath dress of black, understated and elegant, hair swept up into a loose chignon. Passing just close enough to overhear the comment coming from what must be Lystia's mother, the Weyrsecond's lips curl into an amused line that has eyes flicking over in I'daur's direction. For surely this is of whom the woman had spoken. The weyrlings in whose honor this event was being held then picked out in the crowd, the blue weyrling and her escort gaining slightly longer attention. N'thei makes the rounds of shaking hands with Imena's parents, never falters in his smile but never manages to let it touch his eyes, either. He manages to slip away under cover of a story about some lesson where J'ome managed to distinguish himself, steps drawing near enough to Talien's escort that he can mumble politely to the man; "Don't go over there. You'll both be sorry." He catches just glimpse enough of Satiet in yellow to stop in his tracks, peering after her a moment with breath exhaled through o-shaped lips; he hastily takes a seat to finish his drink. Madison meanders into the cavern from the lower caverns. Madison has arrived. Kylissa strolls into the cavern from the lower caverns. Kylissa has arrived. "No more than me," R'hin responds to Satiet, the words - if they're meant to be comforting - falling far short. Lifting the Weyrwoman's glass from her hands, he steps away towards the wine tables, but is waylaid by V'day's parents, a resigned expression quickly replaced by polite interest as he listens to them. Pale eyes travel around the cavern as he does so, picking out the various other weyrlings, as if noting their positions in the crowd. Finally, however, he manages polite excuses, and makes it to the table, refilling both glasses. Lystia, avoiding her shrill mother no doubt, sidles up behind Talien. For once, the greenrider affords a moment of humanizing sympathy for the bluerider, and offers a small flower from the posey she carries. "My parents brought them from Balen," she notes, and on N'thei's arrival, flashes a sweet smile, an attempt to be endearing that possibly only hits the notes of saccharine and false. "Hello there, stranger." "I can imagine," says Emilly with a light laugh, and makes a sympathetic face as I'daur scowls towards the Weyrleaders. "Me? Oh I'm dandy. I like meeting all the parents, talking to them, giving them a little insight about what went on." She nods towards the man's flask though. "Need a refill? I'm sure I spotted the strong stuff over yonder." Talien's escort manages a befuddled little smile at N'thei and a rather thickly accented, "Uh, what?" Talien, though, having heard only the words from her escort, repeats herself. "I said look out for Lystia... hello!" Reddening slightly, Talien none the less smiles as though she were indeed greeting Lystia and not warning Alik from her. "I'm sure it's beautiful," of the flower, which Alik accepts on her behalf, "Thank you." A murmur to Alik once more finds them on their way. "Thanks," is Satiet's rote response, the polite smile becoming strained without the crutch of her wine glass. Another sip and then an audible inhalation and gusty exhalation, one that's meant to be fortifying: give courage and allows her to adopt a more brilliant smile. "Let's get this showboat over with and get to the," she slips her arm comfortably through the Weyrleader's, tipping her head to wink saucily, "Part that I enjoy most. Watching you make a fool of yourself on the dance floor." A dais is at the far end, where the Weyrleader tables are, several items laid out in neat rows on the stone surface. Madison wanders in, Seteth having sent her back repeatedly to the weyr because of not everything be right. The young woman brushes herself off as she comes along into the room with a dress on. Yes, Madison is wearing a dress. She moves slowly along the gathering, glaring by the abcense of any family of any sort. She moves along into the living cavern, looking around slowly. "Yes please," I'daur tells Emilly at once, glancing about until he finds the hard liquor he likes. "I don't like the parents and it's pretty well mutual. But they always think they have to be polite and meet me at least. I'll be back," he tells her, as he straightens and moves toward the whiskey offerings to get that refil. If a simple wave could ever convey "go away and leave me alone and possibly inflict physical harm upon yourself in the process please," N'thei's accomplishes it, a gesture so dull and perfunctory. Immediately after the disinterested gesture to Lystia, he tips back his cup, finishes in one swallow. Kylissa enters from the bowl, waving a hand around her as if she could brush off that last bit of lingering draybeast smell. She straightens her clothing automatically, then steps away from the entrance to give the room an appraising look. Proffering the refilled wineglass, R'hin cants his head slightly as he falls back to Satiet's side. "A fool, hm?" he echoes, low laughter rippling for a moment. He leads them through the shortest path to the table at the front, as if he too, is looking forward to having the event done with sooner rather than later. Pale eyes seek out the Weyrlingmaster a moment, nod sent to the older bronzerider. He seems to be waiting for some unspoken moment - a brief lull in the talk, and his voice rises, "Welcome, 'Reaches, and friends. We're here to celebrate the graduation of Nabrimeth and Wrencath's clutch." He lifts his glass in a toast. Unusually quiet this evening, or likely just wishing to prevent becoming engaged in proud parental gushing, Shanlee manages to procure herself a seat well off to one side which still allows a good view of all that's going one. The wingrider she'd seemed to have been accompanying now bustles off in another direction, or perhaps he's escaping after a low comment thrown his way. The smirk appearing on the Weyrsecond's mouth likely telling more then the following look of pure innocence that follows after his retreating form. Any other girl might be miffed, but Lystia simply tosses her hair and attempts small talk with D'ek instead. Read: flirtation - and soon the former Balenese's distinctive laughter rises. Madison looks up towards R'hin as he starts to speak and she looks around for at least someone to find that is a friend. Spotting Shanlee, the young woman moves towards her, taking careful steps in the higher heeled shoes that Seteth has her stuck in. "I'll be about, most likely here, but you know how parties go." Emilly leans up on tiptoe a little to see over the heads of some taller folk drifting by as she spots another head of red hair. "Is that Shan?" She waves a little as I'daur heads off towards the whiskey and she drops back down off her toes as R'hin speaks and gets things started. She has no drink to toast with, so she echoes the words R'hin speaks instead. When R'hin starts speaking, well. That just solidifies I'daur's desire to get another drink, ignoring the toast in favor of refilling his flask, taking a very long swig from it, and then topping it back up again. It's only then, stiff and wary, than he turns back to look at the Weyrleaders, himself loitering up against the liquor table for support, physical and mental both. As the celebration begins, Talien puts a hand atop Alik's forearm to stall him from moving forward. There's a moment of quiet back and forth whispering that ends with her frowning and him standing just a little taller and it's height he uses to his advantage to get one last look in at the hair tossing Lystia. Talien more or less stands there with an everlasting look of patience. R'hin's low laughter reflects in Satiet's expression, satisfaction dwelling in the lines of her face and the smug set of her curved lips. Releasing the bronzerider's arm, the slight woman takes a step back, donning a look of disinterest in what he says while she fidgets with the folds of her dress, smoothing down the panels and playing fingers across the darker band about her hips. When her face lifts once more, it's with the look of a hostess, polite though not particularly warm, that she scans the crowd, pausing briefly on various notable people, particularly Talien and those that surround the bluerider. N'thei's glass is empty, but he lifts it anyway, the thought that counts. With his other hand, he leans forward a little, reaches with one finger to try and graze Talien's arm in a mute attempt to catch the bluerider's attention, as unobtrusively as possible under the circumstances. Kylissa's lips turn down slightly as she surveys the cavern. Those closest could hear her not so tactful muttering to herself. "I heard there'd be refreshments here, nobody warned me there'd be shardin' speeches." As the man closest to her turns to glare, she turns her mouth back up into a pleasant, charming smile. This young lady couldn't possibly have just been muttering, her body tries to say. The words it would seem are just as much excuse for R'hin to take a generous gulp from his glass as anything. "Firstly, I'd like to ask the Weyrlingmaster to come up and say a few words-- as his prerogative." There may be a hint of satisfaction in the way he smoothly hands over to I'daur, a hand even gesturing towards him as if to draw everyone's attention to him. A hand waving in her direction has Shanlee lifting her glass toward Emilly in silent greeting a smile going her way too. One leg crossing over the other, it's R'hin that now holds her attention once he calls the proceedings to order with his words of welcome. Madison's approach is caught from the corner of her eye and tip of head acknowledges the green weyrling and then she's once again setting her attention back to the Weyrleader. Besotted by Lystia, Alik is none the wiser as Talien briefly disentangles her arm from his. N'thei's effort is rewarded as Talien takes a step back toward him, stopping just when her elbow grazes something solid. Canting her head in his direction, Talien whispers, "Sorry, was I in your way?" As I'daur's called up to speak and Shanlee returns her wave, Emilly threads a discreet path through the crowd to join the other greenrider and leans her back up against the wall a few steps away. "Another class moving on," she murmurs with a smile for the Weyrsecond, then quiets to keep her attention focused where it belongs. B'yan strides into the cavern from the lower caverns. B'yan has arrived. Madison nods towards Shanlee and looks as if she's about to speak when R'hin starts and then she gives a bit of a smile to Shanlee before she turns her attention towards the Weyrleader and then I'daur. N'thei braces his hand against Talien's elbow when she nears, makes a very short effort to catch his fingers around her forearm; "No. But there's a seat here if you'd rather." He nudges the one next to him with his toe, the legs of the chair scraping quietly against the floor. "Your escort is enamored of Lystia anyway." Very low-voiced, all this, in anticipation of I'daur's speech. I'daur's mouth settles into a thin line as R'hin calls him forward, and he deliberately lingers at the liquor table a moment longer, enough to get another good gulp of whiskey before he limps his way to the front of the room and the Weyrleaders. For all he teaches weyrlings, and never seems shy in that, being in this sort of spotlight is making him profoundly uneasy. At least his voice carries well to the crowd, despite that: one of those weyrlingmaster skills of his. "Well," he begins, holding tightly to his flask. "You all made it in one piece, more or less, you weyrlings. So congratulations on all that, and 'M sure you'll do the Weyr proud in the wings now. And, uh." He pauses, and then tries to pick up again: "Thanks to the rest of you for comin' out to support 'em--the weyrlings--as they... take this next step in their lives as riders." The ending cliche is blandly spoken--he's not exactly one for warm and welcoming speeches of this sort. It's during the speeches, where most have their heads turned towards the dais, that B'yan slips in pass some wingmates and is immediately making his way to his favored spot in the cavern: the drinks table. He doesn't yet take stock of the room and those near him, and it would probably be awhile before he does until he gets a glass of wine in hand while the speech from the Weyrlingmaster resumes. Talien's smile is quick and entirely wry. Feeling her way into the seat, she takes it and once more leans toward N'thei. "My parents will have my head." She stops quite short there, falling silent to listen to I'daur's speech. The ending has Talien whispering something to N'thei before she straightens and tries very hard to keep from smiling /too/ much. Kylissa watches I'daur for a few moments, until her neighbor's attention is taken from her. Then she rolls her eyes and follows in the wake of those making their way to the beverages. "Well hardly what I was told to expect but at least they seem to have gotten this part right." It's not disruptively loud but also not hushed out of respect for those trying to listen nearby. She comes to a measured halt at the table and stands there considering the options for a moment, one finger tapping consideringly against her lips. There's definitely a hint of smugness in R'hin's demeanor as I'daur comes up - the Weyrleader tips his glass towards the Weyrlingmaster - taking a sip before setting aside his glass. He's silent throughout the other bronzerider's speech, tipping his head in quiet agreement here and there. "Thank you, Weyrlingmaster." As ever, when the man refers to I'daur, his bearing, his address is full of respect. "Wyaeth's rider," he says, abruptly, "N'thei." Most eyes, including her own, fall on I'daur, and Satiet is unable to suppress the mocking smirk that floats up - bemused and unsurprised by what the weyrlingmaster passes off as a speech. Tellingly, however, the Weyrwoman says nothing yet to draw attention to herself, allowing R'hin to take the lead tacitly, though she moves to stand behind the table of knots, badges, tiny little boxes. When N'thei's name is spoken, the sharp-featured woman glances over to where the big man was last seen, and then trails her gaze around until she finds him by Talien. N'thei laughs quietly, still an undertone, while he watches I'daur's... er... speech. He mutters to Talien, "I'd... to... would... if he was... I... consider... one of... men..." His name pries him unhappily out of his chair with an apologetic murmur to Talien, and he stands to look over the heads of most of the people between him and the dais with a questioning smile; "Sir?" As it seems she's going to be having company anyway, Shan shifts one seat down for either Madison or Emilly take up. One or the other, as there is another to the other side of her too. I'daur's watched with faint amusement and then N'thei's larger form is sought as his name is called out. "Weyrleader," says I'daur, a little frostily: one can almost hear him grinding his teeth at R'hin's smugness, but he's mostly polite still. Even if the effort does cost him another drink, uncaring of the fact he's displaying his bad habit to the entire living cavern. Letting the Weyrleader take the lead again, he takes a couple of steps back himself, lingering there unhappily. B'yan's more or less concentrating on the selection of drinks at the table, barely noticing Kylissa's arrival with him picking up one of the wine bottles. He gives it a brief study before he pouring its dark red contents into his glass, all the while finally looking up when he starts to hear the weyrlings' names being called. He watches N'thei once the bottle is placed back on the table, his demeanor neutral until one of his wingmates sidle alongside him to murmur low words into his ear. "You'll have to come up here, if you would, weyrling," there might be a hint of dryness to the Weyrleader's words, R'hin's gaze on N'thei. Madison tilts her head to the side as she watches R'hin before she looks to N'thei. She taps her bottom lip before she moves over and sits down in an inconspicious place. Kylissa says "Hmm hmm hmm." She eyes the contents of the drink table idly for a few moments. Her attention is caught by the movement near B'yan, and ignoring the fact that he and his wingmate seem occupied, she directs her question at them. "Do you suppose these glasses are cleaned well?" Talien presses a knuckle against her lips as a quiet snort escapes. Around it, she offers a mumbled good luck to N'thei. Very shortly afterward, Talien takes to gently nibbling the knuckle as she listens to the Weyrleader and fellow weyrling. With all the delicacy of a bull in a china closet, N'thei begins his way through the little crowd. After he bumps someone's drinking-hand and splashes wine on the woman's finery, he's rewarded with a more open path from his chair in the back to the dais in the front. There he stops with a practiced salute and a rigidly attentive posture and a waiting expression. --And an unavoidable look at Satiet. Emilly grins down at Shan, but opts not to take a seat, remaining standing, hands loosely clasped in front of her now as the weyrlings are called up to the front. R'hin's gaze traces N'thei's path as he approaches, slight curve of lips visible closer up. The salute earns a nod of acknowledgement, but isn't returned in kind. Instead, the Weyrleader offers a hand, pale eyes intently focused on the man. "Congratulations, bronzerider. You will ride in Snowstrike, under Wingleader C'len." A brief pause, as he adds - gaze unerringly finding B'yan in the crowd, as if he'd earlier pinpointed the man - "And Wingsecond B'yan." He half turns towards Satiet, expectant. The slight woman feigns ignorance of the look cast her way, gathering the various items she needs to give to him as he stands at attention and R'hin speaks. A new knot, a wing badge, and one of those small boxes are pressed into the man's hand, resulting in a hand shake that lingers. Satiet also leans forward and rises onto the tips of her high shoes to murmur some words while shaking his hand. An inordinate amount of time seems to pass in whispers, before she draws back with a smirk for the newly graduated rider. "Congratulations, nonetheless." And lastly, I'daur can step forward himself to offer N'thei his hand (nevermind Satiet's loading him down with all sorts of things), along with a simple "Congratulations" of his own--no more speeches for him tonight. The first weyrling being placed in a wing and now named full rider, draws a grin from Shan which tilts first upward toward Emilly then flicks across to where N'thei is up front. Her old wingmates given a lingering look and then their new wingsecond is picked out with a low chuckle of amusement, along with a feigned sigh toward Emilly "They grow up so fast." That some of 'they' were older then her doesn't seem to come into it right now. B'yan is in the process of returning K'del's low words when Kylissa approaches. He pauses, brow lifting as he drops his gaze down towards his already-filled glass. His mouth opens to answers - presumably something unerringly snotty or obnoxious if the look was any indication - until R'hin brings some of the attention in the room his way. Connecting with the Weyrleader's gaze for a number of moments, the Snowstrike wingsecond turns to look over towards N'thei and pauses before raising his glass towards the new rider amidst the rest of Snowstrike's cheers in neutral interest. "They do at that," murmurs Emilly, clapping as N'thei gets his stuff from I'daur. "Congratulations!" she calls out joining in the hubbub of cheering that ensues. N'thei greets the news with very formal acceptance, just a little nod and a fleetingly appropriate smile. He's a bit less rigid during handshakes and whispers, all attentive eyes on the Weyrwoman while he accepts the things, the corners of his mouth twitched downward a shade. Managing the box and knot and badge in one mitt, he shakes I'daur's hand with the other, and shuffles his steps backwards; "Thank you, sir, ma'am, sir." Nod each for R'hin, Satiet, I'daur. Madison claps a little for N'thei before she gives an eyebrow raise towards Satiet's lingering handhold on N'thei's hand before she tilts her head to the side. "Hrm." She says, looking around the room for the moment. R'hin head cants momentarily, and an amused grin given as Satiet leans in to murmur to the newly minted bronzerder. In a seemingly random order, R'hin calls out more weyrlings and wing assignments - I'dyn ending up in Glacier, Lystia in Icicle. Then, "Madison. Seteth's rider." Kylissa bristles at the aborted response. "Apparently simple questions are beyond some people," she says to nobody in particular, a hand sweeping the air as if to brush the matter aside. Tossing her hair and adjusting her clothing to show just a tiny bit more cleavage, she tries her question again on a fairly handsome but not too bright looking young man at the other end of the table. His response seems to be much more to her liking, as she turns on her charming smile in response. Taking a long deep breath and steadying herself as she walks towards R'hin and the others up infront of everyone. When she arrives, she gives a sharp salute to Satiet first and then to R'hin as she looks up towards the man before her. "Yes sir." Her voice is a mask of poorly hidden nervousness and emotion. [Madison] Talien claps when she hears all the other clapping - Alik, still eyeing Lystia rather wistfully - claps even louder when Lystia's called. If he's the one that whistles, too, well it's just his enthusiasm getting the better of him. Talien, however, shifts slightly in her chair with a small wince. She only seems to get comfortable when she has both legs tucked up under her. N'thei departs, and then a series of weyrlings come by, each passed their gifts, their knots and with a few quiet words shared where some look either pleased, or discomforted by what Satiet says. And then Madison. The youngest weyrling's approach is met with a tilt of the weyrwoman's head as she considers the young teenager. To the greenrider there's gifts and a new knot as well, though no wing badge, and quiet words are spared Madison. Watching N'thei as he returns back from the dais, "Do I look like a drudge to you?" B'yan's voice is of dry inflection once Snowstrike's cheers die down, his hazel eyes not yet meeting Kylissa's. Whether she catches the quip or not, the bronzerider favors his glass for a long drink and settles to watching the proceedings with idle amusement and a few low words to the other rider at his side. "My congratulations, Madison. You've... exceeded expectations." R'hin grins, qualifies: "Some of them, anyway. For now, you and Seteth will continue to fly with I'daur, until you're fifteen. Then you will join the fighting wings of Pern." His hand, too, is offered to the girl, before he gestures towards Satiet. N'thei makes his way back to his seat with less interruption, people likely having learned their lesson from his approach. Just as he sits, he addresses Talien again. He mutters to Talien. The knot and the badge, he places on the table near him; the box, he holds in hand and fiddles idly with the lid, lifts and closes and lifts and closes but never opens. Shanlee's attention flicks out toward her mentee following her progress from seated to salute, a smile touching her mouth for Madison. Any clapping a simple tapping of fingers to glass for those receiving their knots now, as to do more might spill the contents of said glass over her evening gown. Either of which would be a calamity. R'hin's words to the young greenrider are met with an approving nod and a longer look over the girl herself to gauge her reaction. As he did with N'thei, I'daur waits until last to offer his hand to Madison, along with a fleeting smile for the youngest of his weyrlings as he tells her, likewise, "Congratulations." And, lower: "We won't work you /too/ hard 'til then," he adds, wry. Madison opens her mouth as if to say something but a sharp word from her dragon obviously snaps her mouth closed. She stands there and stares at R'hin's hand for a while. It almost seems like an eternity. Madison gives the man another salute, takes his hand in her own before looking to Satiet and Saluting her as well. "Thank you, Weyrwoman." Wow, perhaps one can speak directly through their teeth as Madison manages just that feat when she addresses the Weyrwoman. "Thank you." She takes the knot, and whatever gift that she recieves. "Thank you again." With that, she marches over to I'daur, saluting him and shaking his hand as well. She spares no words for him and looks as if she's about to walk straight out of the cavern. Talien's listening to R'hin ends as she turns to catch N'thei's statement. Her forehead wrinkles before she offers a reply, and then reaches out with a hand to try and still the newly minted wingriders game of lift/close the lid. Another mutter is offered and by the sharp curl of Talien's lips... is likely best kept muttered and not spoken aloud. Kylissa accepts a newly poured glass of wine from the young idiot she's cornered with one of her most winning smiles. With her eyes drifing back towards B'yan as she catches what he says, she lifts her wine glass to her lips. She can't seem to help smirking from behind the cover of the glass, and before she takes a sip, mentions "No, drudges are far more pleasant than you, I'm thinking." A'son's name is called, too, and his assignment - Avalanche Wing - is met with the cheering greeting of its fellow riders. Then, finally, last of all: "Talien." R'hin pitches her name loudly, then waits - on the dais, even gaze on the sightless girl. "Svodriyth's." All through the calling of names, Emilly keeps up the patter of applause and congratulations as each Weyrling proceeds up to the Weyrleaders and the Weyrlingmaster. Even the calling of Talien's name doesn't seem to diminish her overall upbeat attitude. N'thei answers Talien's words; "Mhm." He raises and lowers the lid a few more times, then lets it fall off the edges of his thumbs and land closed, set aside with his other articles. Quietly; "Shall I rouse your escort." He looks hard in the direction of Alik and Lystia. "Or just shove people out of your way myself?" An elbow crooks. "Madison!" Shan's voice filtered with warning and rising just enough as the girl passes near her, looking set to leave the proceedings entirely. Green eyes fix on her, an expectant look forming. The Weyrsecond is momentarily distracted when Talien's name is called and an unreadable look passes over her way, to smile in encouragement would be useless right now. This might give Madison the chance to make good her escape. Talien snorts a second time, though doesn't bother trying to cover it up this time. "It's one way, I suppose," Talien says to N'thei as she slides from her awkward position. Alik, having heard Talien's name, just now remembers he had one of those...at one point, though he's too late to play escort as Talien has taken N'thei up on his offer. Finding his elbow and holding rather tightly to it, she adds in a most serious voice, "You can do whatever it is you want and I'll back you up and say I never saw a thing." Madison stops and turns to Shanlee's side as she moves over towards the woman and she gives a small salute. "Yes Ma'am" She offers, looking expectantly. "Did you need me for anything?" That name sets I'daur's shoulders, the weyrlingmaster drawing himself up a little more as his eyes seek out Talien automatically. He takes another drink while he waits for her to make her way up. With K'del breaking into muffled laughter at Kylissa's words, B'yan flicks a look his way before finally regarding Kylissa from his raised glass. Chin lifting slightly with telltake arrogance as Talien's name is called, it's almost with smug grace that he answers her with, "Drudges usually -are-. Glad you noticed." Eyes find the blue weyrling easily now as she approaches the dias, his deameanor dropping to something more subdued as he watches both Madison and Talien. N'thei chuckles blandly down at Talien while he secures the fold of her fingers just below his elbow. He mutters to Talien, "Ah,... eye." Without stepping on anyone this time, aided by the fact that people seem naturally inclined to give Talien a wide berth, he leads the bluerider up to the dais. It'd be difficult to tell whether R'hin's expression is passively polite or merely stoic as he tracks Talien's path to the dais. When she arrives, he affords N'thei a nod of silent thanks - his hand seeking out hers, leaning in, his murmur to her quiet. Straightening a beat later, he says louder, "You, too, will be in I'daur's care for the time being." A nod is given to the Weyrlingmaster, as he steps back to allow Satiet. Talien senses "R'hin's voice is low, yet it carries a firm intensity with it all the same. "Yours will not be an easy path, but you are a rider of Pern, Talien. That is no small thing. You will contribute, you and Svodriyth. I will see to it."" Sweet the smile that touches on Shan's mouth now as Madison returns "Would you like to join me?" Yes, that was her way of saying 'Don't go anywhere'. However feigned the sweetness might be, its clear the Weyrsecond expects to be obeyed. N'thei's leading of Talien to the dias dawns a light of approval for his actions. Beyond Talien, Satiet's pale eyes drift to I'daur and then to fixate on the bluerider's new-acquired escort, somehow keeping her gaze studiously off the blind woman the closer she gets. Where the other weyrlings received their gifts with quiet words, the weyrwoman merely presses the objects into Talien's hand and allows a low-voiced, "It's nice you have friends to help. You." A pause precedes a reluctant "Congratulations," as if the praise might be construed as mocking, despite the lack of such in her intonation. "And all kinds of tricky," Talien adds in a smug tone. By her next step, though, she's all business and quite serious. Or as serious as she can manage while accepting the offered hand and taking in what's whispered. "Thank you," is her first offer, and it's given with a solid, genuine smile. She lets her hand fall to the side when R'hin steps back, though when Satiet's offer is made, Talien's fingers curl tightly about it. The woman's words earn another smile and nod of Talien's head - one that's as acknowledging as it is thankful. She waits but a few seconds longer before taking a few small steps back with her elbow half cocked to act as a quasi-guide. "Of course, Weyrsecond Shanlee." Madison offers as she moves up to sit next to Shanlee. The young woman looks down at her knot and spins it in a circle on her finger. "Is it worth anything without a badge?" She asks Shanlee, obviously letting out what she'd been thinking. "I feel." She pauses. "Unappreciated. Fifteen is two turns away. But if that's the rules." A shrug. "That's the rules" She looks up. "Congrats Talien!" The young woman calls out. N'thei acts as nothing more than window-dressing once he's relieved of Talien. He lingers near the dais, answers expressions accordingly with his own, and waits until the ceremony for the bluerider is done. Then, casually, he reaches for her elbow this time with his own congratulations added quietly. Emilly claps loudly as Talien is knotted and then she shoots a sharp look over at Madison. "Madi - this isn't the time or the place," she says quietly. "It's a celebration. And of course it's worth something. There's plenty of honor in flying with I'daur, not to mention that it's still not exactly /safe/. You'll be using your training." The assistant weyrlingmaster's words are delivered in a mild tone, though there's a hint of disappointment in her eyes for the youngest former-Weyrling's behavior. Kylissa sidles slightly closer to her good looking idiot. Her nose sweeps towards the ceiling as she watches the reaction to her last words to B'yan. "Yes, I've seen how some people take pride in their ill tempers, as if unpleasantness was something to be desired." She leans lightly against her new friend as if showcasing what proper behavior from a male to her should be. The fool looks quite properly smitten by her attentions, so she gives him an approving pat on the shoulder. I'daur is watching Talien throughout, his gaze unshy of looking at her as many others seem to be. "Congratulations, Talien," is offered to her quietly; he doesn't offer a handshake but does, after a moment, reach to pat her arm awkwardly before letting her go. Time for another drink. R'hin's eyes trail after Talien for a moment, before sweeping across the crowd. "I'd like everyone to join me in a toast to High Reaches' newest riders. May they fly far and fast." He lifts his glass, before taking a deep gulp. That, too, appears to be some pre-arranged signal, for the harpers begin to mount the dais behind them, setting up their instruments - music beginning not long after. When the harpers strike up, Satiet visibly relaxes, her small shoulders rolling forward into a brief slouch, before she remembers herself and draws herself back up again. A brief touch reaches across to R'hin's shoulder, the rest of the caverns forgotten for the moment, but it's clear the weyrwoman doesn't mean to linger in conversation with her Weyrleader for too much longer for she's soon walking again, off the dais and towards another glass to hold, sip from, anything as she tries to lose her scandalously clad frame in the crowd of people. A fine brow hikes upward at Madison's query, then Shan leans sideways to follow on Emilly's words to the greenrider "That is worth every bit of what it should. Perhaps you need to -appreciate- the trust already given you by Seteth and the concern by those who's job it is to look out for you." Leaning away from her, R'hin's words have the Weyrsecond lifting her glass in the final toast and then drinking from it, a flicker of attention going back to greenrider and then on past her as the music strikes up. Narrowed eyes following Talien's progress to and from the dais, "Where I come from," B'yan states idly to Kylissa, passing a very brief and disdainful look towards the besotted man beside her, "it usually is." Pause. "Though I'm known to be nicer in a more intoxicated state," he adds in a flatter tone, passing a hollow smirk her way before lifting the glass to a toast. His furtive gaze manages to seek others beyond Talien out in the pause, lingering on the dais where the Weyrleaders and Weyrlingmaster stand with an unreadable expression. Snowstrike's wing takes up a cheer soon after the toast, congratulating the newest additions robustly. Talien, once back in the relative safety of N'thei's presence, offers a rather quick whisper and a smile that seems more shaky than I'daur when he realizes he's almost out of booze. Said Weyrlingmaster, as Talien's path crosses his, is faced. Talien stopping short and staying stopped passes for the warning she doesn't offer N'thei. There's an awkward (for her) moment of silence, then, "I just wanted to say the invite still stands. Thank you, too. And um - yeah. Ok." Offer done, she turns back to N'thei to resume their walk. N'thei answers out of the corner of his mouth; "In triplicate, if at all possible." Talien may not be able to see him watching the Weyrwoman retreat from the dais, but it's out there for anyone else looking. "Dare I ask what 'invite' that would be? Or is this sure proof that ignorance /is/ bliss?" He steers relatively toward the table where he left his belongings. For Talien's words in return, I'daur raises his brows, and then manages a half-smile for her. "All right," he agrees. "Just... say when." A nod, then, as he watches her go, and offers N'thei a nod of acknowledgement as the bronzerider takes charge of her again. He seems to consider himself released from duty then, as he turns more heavily to his drink, and then, formalities over, tells Satiet conversationally, "Yellow's not your color, Weyrwoman." Madison looks over towards Emilly and nods her head. "Of course ma'am." She gives another salute to her, nodding. "Of course." She says, "I understand." She tells both Shanlee and then Emilly. "Of course, Ma'am." She says, giving a gentle smile before she takes the knot and puts it in her pocket. Kylissa's face momentarily tightens in surprise at B'yan's response. But she soon smoothes out her expression into one she's decided is more attractive, using the moments cheering to recover. "And you come from where? Repellence Hold?" she throws back casually once the noise has ended. "Speaking of celebrating, I think I need a drink and ... Shanlee, do you need a refill? Madison, would you care for anything?" Emilly's smile is back to sunny and she looks around the crowd with a quiet chuckle. "Always so many people ..." "And not being drunk isn't yours, weyrlingmaster," Satiet returns as she arrives just as Talien and her escort seem to depart. Her inflection reflects the utmost formality; the words itself, not. Despite the traded insults, an arm reaches out, her slim hand turned to brush idly against I'daur's grizzled cheek. "Mmmm, I'm sure I suggested shaving for the occasion." R'hin's attention settles on Satiet very briefly, though granted, gaze does linger as the Weyrwoman moves away. He steps from the dais as the music kicks off and the space in front of it quickly becomes a dance floor. It's to B'yan - and Kylissa - that the bronzerider heads, managing to snag himself a glass of wine on the way. "And a congratulations to you, wingsecond. Settling in well?" the words seem polite enough, if not for the sharp, speculative gaze that accompanies it; an easy, apologetic smile is given to Kylissa. "Ah. Am I interrupting an argument? How shocking, B'yan." "We are all going to get drunk. Very, very, very-" Several more repetitions of that word are repeated, before, "/drunk/. Smashed and toasted and all kinds of fun and if this place is any good, we might even get to see a fight or two." Her fingers clutch his arm tighter when, likely due to all that enthusiasm for getting drunk, she catches her foot against an abandoned chair. As she straightens, she adds, "You know, you should come too. We might need someone to help us get back out alive and all." [Talien] Satisfied that Madison is at least for now going to acquiese, Shan stands to her feet. One hand smoothing over imaginary wrinkles in the fabric of her gown. A curt nod given to the younger greenrider "Good" Emilly's offer is met with a strained smile "I'll come with you." the crowd given a glance around by her too "Too many." the Weyrsecond grumbles as humanity ebbs and flows around them. Steps now draw her alongside the assistant weyrlingmaster toward where the drinks are held. I'daur is still, only smirking when Satiet touches his face. "Seems like," he agrees, feigning hard thought to remember. "Guess I forgot that. Didn't dress up, either. Guess I'm not just a ray o' sunshine like you, Weyrwoman." He glances at her bright yellow dress then, amused. "No, I don't think so. I've never drank alcohol." Madison says. "Besides, I'm a little too young for that, aren't I?" She asks, giving a warm innicent smile towards Emilly and Shanlee. "Was a trader, actually," B'yan quips briskly enough for it to either be a lie or an answer of little substance for the woman. "Are you suggesting I'm from the same Hold as you?" He manages to say it with a pleasant enough smile - which if known, would be taken as a challenge - when R'hin approaches. "You're not interrupting," he muses, turning towards the Weyrleader with a lopsided grin. "Just polite words exhanged between strangers is all." Pause. "I'm settling enough," he answers about the position, lifting his glass to drink before adding, "Miss me already?" N'thei nods and nods and nods several more times for each repetition, and he ends with a short burst of laughter. "Implying that I would abstain, be the sober one?" He dips a hand to Talien's upper arm in an effort to minimize the effect that stumble will have on her. "If you're already staggering, how will you manage after getting very very very ad infinitum drunk?" "There's sparkling juices and other things for those who don't want something stronger, Madi," says Emilly gently. "And plenty of good food too. You sure you don't want anything?" Sionath's rider waits on an answer from Seteth's before moving on with Shanlee towards the drinks table. It's hard not to overhear Talien's proclamations of getting drunk, and distracted from mocking I'daur's appearance briefly, Satiet twists at the waist to study the blind bluerider. "Seems you've taught them all very, very well, weyrlingmaster. I'm so proud that you've passed on your love of the bottle on them." As if she, herself, isn't indulging in her third glass of wine. The fat goblet is lifted towards Talien and escort, a sardonic smile flashed towards N'thei, irrelevant to whether he notices or not, before she returns to I'daur. "I would ask you to dance, but I imagine that'd just be cruel of me with your leg in such a state." Kylissa hands her empty wine glass to the handsome idiot, who has been doing little else but staring at her cleavage since her last words to him. R'hin's approach is greeted with a casual once over, after which she fires up her charming smile at him. No shame at all this young woman has. Perhaps lacking in sense as well. She takes in B'yan's response before adding, "Not that interruptions are always unpleasant." Her gaze eventually goes back to the wingsecond though as his other words sink in through her distraction with being charming. "By the Egg, I'm glad not to have run across -your- family on the road. -My- family was raised to have manners." Apparently she escaped that part of the raising herself. "Probably not." Shan affords Madison before she steps away "But a half glass in celebration would likely not be frowned upon." a querying brow lifting over to Emilly for the making of a small concession. While awaiting reply, the contents of her glass are drained, which is just as well for a rather portly woman barges into the petite Weyrsecond, almost knocking her off her feet. Something completely unladylike is muttered under her breath and a refill starting to look better and better all the time. Those already keeping the various bottles on offer company given longer study. "Some bread will do me fine. And no, I don't want anything to drink." Madison replies, giving another soft if wanly sad smile towards Emilly. She looks down at herself and gives a slow long sigh before she frowns and mutters something along the line of "Shouldn't of worn this, Set." She grumbles. I'daur takes another drink himself, studying Satiet as he does so. "We all bonded," he notes dryly of the weyrlings, glancing after Talien and N'thei again as they walk off. He shakes his head, and then glances back to the goldrider beside him, raising a brow again. "Since when's that ever stopped you?" he says of her cruelty. "Terribly," comes R'hin's smooth response to B'yan's mocking query. "I'm sure I'll recover suitably in time, however. C'len hasn't thrown you out yet. I'm shocked." The repartee has the odd sense of ease of something long done, rather than any strong sense of antipathy. Kylissa is studied with interest for a moment, before low-throated laughter escapes him at her words to B'yan. "Oh, ho. I like her already. R'hin," he offers. "Has B'yan introduced himself yet, or is he still on the 'mysterious man of mystery' stage?" "Well then, do enjoy the rest of the party." So saying, Emilly moves off with Shanlee. "What've you been filling that glass up with Shan?" inquires the assistant weyrlingmaster. "I'm open to recommendations tonight." "Seems to me," Talien soberly announces to N'thei, "If I'm gonna be with Mr. Dour, I better start learning." Mr. Dour is not to be confused with Alik, who has also heard Talien's rip-roaring drunk proclamation and now pins N'thei with a disapproving glower. "'course, I could just not drink but I don't think I'm gonna be much help in a fight." With Alik at hand, and drinking threatened, Talien finds her other elbow hooked by Alik, who offers N'thei a stiff jerk of his chin which could be a thanks as much as it can be a command to beat it. "Never," repentless in her quick return, Satiet's brows lift, arcing finely over her pale eyes. "Would you do the honors of escorting me around the party then, weyrlingmaster? Imena's parents are desperate to thank you for your dieting tactics and making their darling daughter a vision of beauty and grace." The slim hand at his cheek drops, turned up and ready to thread about his elbow. "I'm giving it a few months, "B'yan quips to the Snowstrike wingleader throwing him out, and the words are given with such open indifference. "Beyond that and I might have to start worrying about the man." He flashes the Weyrleader a roguish smile as he adds, "I can always come back to you. I rather miss the moments we've had together." And despite the sarcasm, the words do manage to sound sincere enough. To Kylissa, the wingsecond's lips thin as he answers, "I'm actually at the 'obnoxious man known' stage. I was trying to work her in gently," and there's an arrogant wink for Kylissa, not even introducing himself, but letting out a chuckle at her retort for him. "I always manage to find the women with sharp tongues," he drawls dryly. "We're already speaking of families. I'd say we're progressing towards a relationship already." Again, steps halt and Shan crosses her chin over her shoulder in backward glance to Madison "Eating just bread would be disappointing considering the way kitchen staff have prepared all day in your honor." But she leaves the young greenrider to her own devices as seems to be her wish. The empty glass is held aloft for inspection after Emilly's word "Wine." the word coming flat "But I now feel a penchant for something stronger coming along." a pointed look slipping sidelong to the older greenrider as they near the drinks table. N'thei would hang himself if he knew he missed a smile, cruel or not, from Satiet, thus proving his earlier posit: Ignorance /is/ bliss. He's distracted with Alik's return, taking the measure of this interloper with a quick glance and a confident quirk at the edge of his mouth. Releasing Talien, he raises his eyebrows in reply to the chin-jerking; "I don't mean to be rude, but who exactly are you?" "They made it for riders, not babysat Weyrling graduates." Madison says as Shanlee turns back away from her and the young woman gets up. "I don't even need to be here." She offers, taking a few determined steps across the floor before the shoes that Seteth had suggested finally trip the young woman up and she trips, loosing her balance and falling forwards onto the hard floor. Kylissa says "Mysterious isn't quite the word that comes to mind." Despite her best effort, it's impossible for her to be both scornful and charming, resulting in words that ring with sarcastic sweetness in her response to R'hin. Her smile never falters though. Even as her gaze swings back to B'yan. "Perhaps it's not that you find the women with sharp tongues but that you draw the sharp tongue out of the women." The rest she doesn't even respond to as she accepts her refilled wine glass from the fool beside her. One more smile to keep the poor man's attention locked on her. "Why thank you. Always nice to see proper manners." "Hmm. Not sure if I've got the tolerance for anything /too/ strong, but there's the whiskey I'daur filled up with." Em points to the right bottle as she and the Weyrsecond reach the appropriate section of the tables. "We could try the nice big glasses with the citron twists though. Mixed and fruity, so probably strong enough, but not tasting like it." "Hm. A gamble then, is it?" R'hin digs in his pocket, taking out a mark, flipping it up in the air and catching it. Gaze on the bronzerider, fingers curled around the mark, silent query in the look, like he's waiting for B'yan to call it. A twitch of lips betrays him then, dark amusement spilling forth as he allows, "You can always come back. I've little choice, after stealing C'len's previous wingsecond." Kylissa's words are met with a grin, and a tip of his glass in her direction in silent toast - or maybe it's just an excuse to drink. "Yeah, that was my doing," snorts I'daur of Imena, shakin ghis head. Still, though, he nods to her request as he offers his arm, noting, "My pleasure, Weyrwoman. Though I was expectin' you to demand a dance anyway. Lead on." "Geeze, you really must be drunk." Talien says as she pats N'thei's arm before releasing it. Alik, upon being questioned, puffs his chest and says in his too-thick accent, "I'm Alkin, friend of the family." What it actually sounds like is 'milkin' feedin' candy'. And Talien, with a straight face, adds, "Alik for short 'cause when he was smaller he had one heck of a cowlick thing going on... wait. You don't still have it, do you?" Proving just how much of a brat she must've been, Talien plants a palm against Alkin's face and pushes him away. With the few seconds reprieve she's won, Talien offers N'thei a quick smile which precedes a sneak attempt of a quick hug and even quicker kiss before abandoning him for Alik. "Come on, you!" A low growl of annoyance filters up as Madison's parting words are caught, however Shan doesn't turn or reference them, her path to those drinks just becoming more determined. Emilly's words are met with a slightly tight smile and her hand is already reaching for the whiskey pointed out "Doubt the weyrlingmaster would ever be exactly 'filled' when it comes to this." bottle waggling at the other greenrider an attempt at a tease made. Being that they're at one of the drinks tables, snippets of conversation between those at ones nearby are easily picked up on. R'hin's return to B'yan drawing twitch of amusement from the Weyrsecond. And a burst of loud curses come from the youngest of the group of recently graduated weyrlings along with a pair of shoes flung in a very angry and haphazard manner. "I'm done!" She finishes her tirade, stomping out towards the exit quite barefoot. [Madison] Brow lifting as he takes that moment to drain his glass, "Proper is overrated," B'yan drawls on that, turning to reach out for the bottle in another refill. "Backhanded comments and veiled insults! It seems you were drawn to -me-, ma'am," and he dips his head into a faint bow towards Kylissa, the motion more mocking than gentlemanly. Once his glass is filled, "I'm good for any gamble," he returns to R'hin with a nod. "Since you're the one holding the mark..." he trails off, relinquishing the call to the Weyrleader as he shows a faint glimmer or amusement and approval towards him for his remarks. Hazel eyes finding Kylissa again, "Perhaps I should introduce myself before the Weyrleader starts filling your head with nefarious thoughts about me," he notes with wryness. "B'yan, Snowstrike's wingsecond. And you are?" he prompts with a arched brow as he takes a drink of the wine. Uncertainly, N'thei suggests, "It's nice to meet you?" He squints at Alik, as though that will help him make out the words, and then the squint turns wide-eyed for Talien's method of departure. Thoroughly confused now, he watches over people's heads while the pair depart, then he just slinks off to catch a drink of something and return the chair to fiddle with his box-lid again. Emilly covers a rather girlish giggle with one hand. "No, I suppose not. I'll bet we'll be peeling him off the floor before the end of the night actually. Or someone will anyway." She waves one hand towards the whiskey. "I'll leave that to you and try this." So saying, the elder greenrider picks up one of the with-a-twist drinks and turns around, having missed out entirely on Madison's fall and exit. Kylissa takes another sip from her own glass, though she seems to be in no hurry to finish this one. Her well-practiced smile falters just for a moment as she witness the commotion from the bare-foot girl. "I happen to have -good- taste," she says to negate B'yan's first comment. Rather ironic considering whose arm she's hanging on. A small snort escapes at the suggestion that the Weyrleader could make him look worse, but she pulls herself off the idiot's arm for a moment. In a graceful show clearly meant to demonstrate civilty, she gives her name. "I'm Kylissa." Her voice drops much lower as she mutters, almost as an afterthought, "Hammel family." Satiet isn't so self-absorbed with being cruel to I'daur that she misses Madison's tantrum. But with her only reaction being a thin press of her lips, the goldrider begins to walk, the long yellow dress trailing in her wake to begin her path of playing hostess. She neatly avoids Imena's parents as they gush similarly over D'ek and his parents, and steers the weyrlingmaster and herself towards the new bluerider claiming loudly the desire to get drunk. "I try not to gamble." There's a sharpness present in the Weyrleader's voice that wasn't there before, as if any hint of good-natured teasing has abruptly vanished. R'hin pockets the mark, uncovered, as B'yan relinquishes the call. As the other introduces himself to Kylissa, R'hin strides away wordlessly, heading for the drinks table with his now-empty glass. If she was aware of Madison's tirade, Shan is certainly making a good show of ignoring it. Just a light gritting of teeth may indicate that likely it will be dealt with later.. Emilly's giggle, brings a lopsided grin for her words "How he puts that much away and still remains standing....." a glance picks out the weyrlingmaster now "Ah...he finds help." she concludes as Satiet is seen on I'daur's arm. An unused tumbler is found amongst those used and deposited back on the table and amber fluid is soon flowing into it "Glad its over for now?" the query going to the assistant weyrlingmaster. I'daur is content enough to shuffle along at Satiet's side, her arm threaded through her as they dodge parents, the weyrlingmaster himself doing his best not to get noticed and pounced by any of them. They manage, thus, to head over toward Talien without getting pinned down. I'daur, though, does not offer greetings to her: he's too busy finishing off at least his second flask of the night when he figures out where Satiet's taking him. "They all say that," is B'yan on good tastes, the smirk crooked as he manages to miss Madison's fall with the crowd blocking his view. He notes the sudden sharpness of the Weyrleader's voice, watching him pocket the mark with an interest he does not hide. Even with Kylissa introducing herself, the bronzerider's gaze follows R'hin when he leaves, a quiet bemusement and curiosity evident on his face. "Well met, Kylissa," he notes idly with his attention away, seeming to find the Weyrleader interesting study until he catches her family's name. Looking back at her, "The traders, Hammel?" he seems to confirm without a need to, as if suddenly noticing Kylissa before him. Madison goes home. Madison has left. "Mm - I certainly couldn't drink that much and remain conscious. I guess it comes with time, the tolerance." Emilly's eyes track I'daur's progress across the room, then return to Shanlee. "Hm? Oh yes and no. I like teaching so I always miss it, but it's hard sending them up in the end." She tips her big wide-mouthed glass up for a sip and her eyes go round. "Oh shells. That's a lot stronger than I expected." Kylissa slips so far as to let a small frown of puzzlement show at R'hin's departure. Only for a moment, and then she is smiling once again. With an absent touch for her smitten idiot to maintain his attention, she nods once at B'yan. "Well met," she replies, though not with a hint of irony. "Mmmhmm" is the answer she gives to his question about her family, half under her breath. Sliding past the two greenriders with a nod, R'hin grabs a bottle of white in order to refill his glass. "Shan, Emilly. On to the hard stuff all ready, I see," he observes with the faintest curves of lips. The widening of eyes coming from Emilly elicits a low chuckle as Shan tries to peer into the greenrider's drink "What on Pern is in there." now her own drink draws less interest then whatever is in that other glass. R'hin's sneaking up on them and subsequent words have the Weyrsecond jumping back from glass inspection, a wide grin forming "Sampling some of the lesser known mixes I believe." a brow hiking upward toward Emilly for her take on things. Emilly nearly drops her drink as R'hin leans in to grab that bottle. "Shells! Now where'd you come from, Weyrleader?" The greenrider eyes her glass suspiciously once more and then curls it towards herself a little to keep it safe from a sudden tumble to the ground. "No harm in celebrating properly, now is there, sir? And ... I think there's rum for sure, Shan, have a sip? Maybe you can sort it out? There's other flavors too." Draining his glass once again, enough to grab the whole bottle this time just for keeps, "Hammel sounds familiar," B'yan notes on the traders, looking Kylissa over as if something on her would jog his memory. Then, looking towards the man with her briefly, "So you enjoy docile men?" he asks without apology to the man in question, his lips falling into bold amusement as he takes the bottle into his claim and takes to watching various people around them. "No harm at all," R'hin allows with a grin, perhaps more than a little satisfied with the reaction he gets, sipping his wine, though he's studying the bottle that has Shanlee's and Emilly's interest. "As much as I'd love to partake, I've still plenty of parents to act responsible in front of. Unless one of you two ladies would like to take my place?" he says, without too much hope. "Chat with a few parents, look interested, that sort of thing?" Talien is a sneaky little thing and with Alik seeking to make a hasty departure, she's all that more sneaky. But all it takes is one glimpse of Lystia from the corners of his eyes, and Alik is effectively stonewalled. Talien, not so fortunate in knowing her escort has once more become rooted to the spot, is jerked back to his side when she continues moving and he doesn't. "Oh geeze." An annoyed little mutter from the bluerider who, after a bit of groping about, finds herself a seat nearby. "But only if I get to keep it if I like it." Shan bargains with Emilly over trying to identify the various mixes in the drink. R'hin's half-hearted offer of chatting up parents is met with an impish grin from the Weyrsecond "Tell you what. We'll pair up. You work the mother's with that charm of yours and I'll flatter the fathers." Nope, she's not taking much seriously this night as a rather good show of batting eyelashes and pouty mouth is made for how she'd go about such a task. Satiet and her invalid approach N'thei, bereft of his sneaky charge now. The weyrwoman glides while hanging lightly on I'daur's arms, the heels clicking noisily. "Getting drunk already, are we?" A cool voice and a bemused twisting smile. "Not that I'd blame you to celebrate being rid of I'daur as your teacher." The alto catches a breath, pausing as Talien comes into view again in her periphery. "Well, some of you at any rate." "Well there's more of 'em, so we could both have one. Or more than one even." Emilly colors a little and then picks up another one of the big glasses with a slice of citron twisted on the rim. "Here ..." Then she laughs lightly at R'hin's remark. "I wouldn't mind at all if they'd take it from me when they're expecting the Weyrleader. As a matter of fact, I quite enjoy speaking with the Weyrlings' parents." Kylissa skips over the mention of her family, taking another sip from her glass of wine instead of responding to it. The man whose arm she's back to hanging on isn't even bright enough to pick up on the potential insult. And is occupied concentrating on other things, like the view he has from above when she leans into him like that. Kylissa doesn't notice or doesn't mind this, but the question from B'yan does drag a brief annoyed look. "There's a difference between being docile and showing the proper attention to a woman." She emphasizes the last word with a flick that readjusts her hair. N'thei looks at the volume left in only his second glass; "I'm nowhere near getting drunk yet, ma'am. Ask me in an hour and things may be different." With the very source of derision right there at hand, he continues on a very diplomatic vein, "It wasn't so bad as you likely think it was. I learned a lot." Like how to gulp down liquor without wincing! He swallows big right then. Blatantly appreciative; "It's a nice dress." He looks at I'daur to back him up there. "Putting the talents I teach to good use," is I'daur's dry assessment, more mockingly directed at Satiet than at N'thei as they turn to that weyrling instead. There's a glance back over his shoulder to Talien as she stops, only glancing back to the new-made rider before him at N'thei's words to Satiet. "Isn't it?" the weyrlingmaster says blandly: not much of an agreement. Fortunately, Alik is a little more attentative this time, and it's not terribly long after Talien's chosen a seat that he joins her. A good many wistful looks at Lystia continue until the ex-weyrling moves out of sight, and only then does Alik return the full of his attention her way. Talien puts it to good use in asking him to explain the nature of her gifts to her. With the bestowed items on the table before him, the young man does just that. With a hearty sigh, R'hin says, "I might just fall in love with you if you do that, Shan," though the twinkling of pale eyes and twitch of lips betray the facetiousness of the words, all the same. Emilly's comment makes his brows rise for a moment, "Do you really?" he's intrigued, like she's done something unexpected indeed. "Remind me to put you to work later. Ah, now, where's that son of yours? I didn't see him on the dais," he nods towards the group of harpers. B'yan is adept enough to note the avoidance from the other of speaking about her family, and he instead moves onto her comment about the open insult to the other man. "There's proper attention, and then there's oogling," he drawls with a pointed look at the man doing just that, and the bottle he holds gets a brief raise before he steps away. Eyes finding one of the weyrlings easily, "If you would excuse me," he adds to the woman with a gesture of the bottle. "One of the weyrlings is in dire need of my one-of-a-kind charms." Passing a look toward K'del, who has been following more of the exchange despite the raucous noise of Snowstrike's wing, the bronzerider makes his way over towards Talien and Alik, watching the former intently. Though she derides I'daur, possessive fingers tighten briefly about his elbow before the goldrider releases her grip and drops the hand to her side. "Your parents didn't come?" A question that seeks no true answer, for Satiet's already moving on to tilt her head, amused at the appreciation and the lack thereof that banters between the two men. "I'daur," she answers more honestly for the grizzled weyrlingmaster, "Doesn't think yellow is my color. But you disagree, don't you?" The slender hand once at I'daur's arm extends to N'thei, turned upward with fingers curled in a charming invitation. "Care to dance, bronzerider, before you're too inebriated to watch where your feet go? I'm afraid his crippled leg just can't suffer through something as taxing as dancing." Emilly's words do little to halt the Weyrsecond's decision to just kick back this night, in fact they likely spur her on. Which to choose, whiskey or big interesting glass? Both it would appear, as Shan reclaims her tumbler, knocks back the contents and then reaches for a big, citron decorated glass. "Really?" R'hin's remark bringing a lift of brow and crooked grin "Thought you'd be much harder then that to undo." amused sarcasm touching through the return to his own factious. A thought halts the new glass midway to her lips, R'hin being fixed with a brighter then usual cast of green eyes, just the tone showing hesitancy "Uhhh....morning drills?" "Oh yes," says Emilly enthusiastically, beaming at the Weyrleader and then she giggles again at the byplay between R'hin and Shanlee. "Incorrigible," she says with a heartier laugh and takes another cautious sip of her drink. "Giremi? He's posted at Telgar, sir. I expect he's already fast asleep given his duties." Kylissa waves off the claim of a difference between attention and oogling, though she does stand straighter, leaning on her poor idiot's arm less than before. She gives B'yan a dismissive wave as he excuses himself, though she follows his gaze to K'del and directs a little of her charm at him. No male seems to be beneath her notice if she sees the possibility of more attention. Then it's back to her wine glass for another careful sip. Alik, with his back to pretty much all of the cavern, cannot see the approach of B'yan. So he continues explaining things as he sees them, which earns quite a few nods from Talien before she holds out a hand. And he, with an appreciative little smile, slips a ring onto her finger. In turn, Talien smiles. Alik, still heedless, asks, "So when we gonna tell your parents?" Accent still thick, it's a wonder if anyone other than Talien can understand him. N'thei looks over I'daur for a second with laughing eyes, the rest of his expression still schooled into deference. "I'daur." He stands, puts his drink back on the table with his new belongings. "Does not seem to have an eye for fashion." Perfectly willing and then some, he takes the pretty pretty hand. "With pleasure, ma'am. Excuse us, sir." "My leg manages all right," I'daur tells Satiet mildly, "for what it needs to do. Never counted dancin' in that list even before." When N'thei takes Satiet up on her offer, he reaches to give the Weyrwoman a little encouraging push toward him, his hand coming to rest at just the top of the very low-cut back of her yellow dress for that moment before he's taking a limping step back, leaving her to go with the other bronzerider, while he turns back to glance at Talien again, and waffle a moment before moving toward her and her companion, loitering a few feet away without saying anything. There's something admiring in R'hin's gaze as he watches Shanlee knock down one drink after another. On the question of morning drills, a wicked grin appears, "Depends how much -I- drink. One of the few benefits of being in charge." His gaze travels around the room, settling on the Weyrwoman, noting with interest her choice of dance partner. Then, to Emilly: "Of course. I was hoping maybe he'd put in an appearance all the same. You think I'll ever be able to coax him into a position with us?" "Talien," B'yan states the name as he approaches them, the glimmers of small triumph on his face from noting the straighter posture of Kylissa as he had left. He looks over Alik for a few brief moments, then lays his hand on her shoulder, probably in an attempt to bring her to his attention. Looking over the gifts she had received then before nodding a silent greeting to Alik, "In need of a drink? I happen to have a bottle." There's a smirk there that she would never see, and he shakes the bottle to slosh its contents. "Rank has its privileges indeed," teases Emilly a little, though she's taking a little break from her own glass, still holding onto it, but not actually drinking from it. "I'm ... not sure about that sir, honestly. I think he might have more reasons to stay put than to leave. Besides, in the end, it's up to the Masterharper." As N'thei takes her hand, Satiet flushes scarlet, an unvoiced yelp visibly catching in her throat. Her pale eyes are framed by wide thrown lashes that suddenly narrow to watch I'daur hobble his way over to Talien, but while the culprit is found, she's still unable to school her furious blushing. "I'daur doesn't have an eye for many a thing," she's finally able to say, taking the lead in drawing the newly graduated rider out onto a dance floor already filled with various people moving to the harper's music. "Other than the bottle, but I'm sure you're aware of it now." Mabye if R'hin had caught the tell-tale blush of color forming on Shan's cheeks he may realise that unless she extricated herself pretty soon, the weyr would be treated to the unusual sight of one of its Weyrsecond's giggling and tottering about in high intoxication. The blend of drinks would be the likely suspects in such a conspiracy against the normally self-contained greenrider. "Please Sir, have some more then." the bottle very quickly held out to the Weyrleader "The whole wing would appreciate your taking time out to relax." this delivered in a sly tone as she tries to ply him with liquor. As conversation continues between he and Emilly, the redhead contents herself with nibbling at the citron twist. "Oh geeze-" That, notably, is an entirely different sort of geeze. The kind that expects hail and fire, brimstone and pigs flying. "Um. B'yan this is...Alik an' Alik this is B'yan." Talien, naturally, isn't going to see /his/ look either, but it's a 'gee you think' sort of look. Placidly, the man says, "We met." It sounds like fewmet, which is still suiting, in a manner. "And I do, yes." Of the sloshing bottle, from Talien, who proceeds to try and claim said bottle even if it mightn't have been meant for her. N'thei can barely quit watching Satiet most of the time, and now here he's heading toward a dance floor with her and peering at I'daur's back. He mutters to Satiet, "... words... for..." More formal with his hands, he sets one big mitt on the curve of Satiet's waist, folds the other one around her fingers, and falls in step with the music like he's done this at least a few times before. "You're completely sober? To look down your very pretty nose at the Weyrlingmaster?" Satiet's blush is not lost on I'daur, who turns away from Talien and Alik the moment he sees B'yan head over that way. He takes another long drink of his whiskey as he turns to watch the goldrider and N'thei. He's smirking from behind the flask, though, as he studies the dancing pair a moment longer and then moves to take a seat, rubbing his leg idly, and shooting not-very-subtle looks sideways at Talien as he tries to wait out the others talking to her. "Well, our Weyrwoman has an-- in-- with the Masterharper." R'hin notes with a kind of blandness to Emilly. Amusement flickers in the Weyrleader's eyes at Shanlee's rather blatant attempt to ply him with alcohol. "You're a temptress," he accuses, finally acquiescing by taking the bottle. He takes a gulp, exhaling sharply in reaction, and hands it back. "All right. No more of that," he half-heartedly protests. "That's a killer hangover right there." B'yan looks at Alik, then Talien, then back to the young man with a rather dry "We have indeed," in agreement to them having met before. "Anyways, just wanted to congratulate you," he tell Talien, seeming to manage a few glances towards the dance floor with casual air. He hands the bottle over then and look up to notice I'daur turning away when he was approaching. Patting Talien's hand, the bronzerider lowers his voice as he adds, "Don't get too drunk," he murmurs in amusement before leaning away, signalling his departure from the pair as he tries to catch I'daur's eye and starts in the direction of the drinks table. "Oh ..." derailed, Emilly blinks a few times at R'hin then looks over at Satiet and there's an impression of some memory flitting across the greenrider's face and her eyebrows lift a little. "Well, we'll just see, won't we then sir? I wouldn't complain about having him home, that's for sure." Her drink is lifted then and she takes a few healthy swallows that pinken her cheeks up considerably. Shanlee catches that comment from R'hin to Emilly, amusement openly displayed and eyes quickly dropping off the pair of them. Hope wells up when the bottle is taken from her and the Weyrleader drinks from it, when its happened back a moue of disappointment follows "Clearly not a very good one." on words of being a temptress. Then on hangovers "Exactly! Which is why morning drills would just be cruel and unusual punishment." green eyes blink innocently an angelic smile appearing. Maybe that would work. Still all sorts of red, Satiet casts I'daur one final dour look, her pale eyes beading all unhappily even as she squirms a little beneath N'thei's hand - as if there were something slimy resting just above her dress's backline that she can't quite shake off. "Completely, utterly. I'm rarely not sober," drawn away from looking discontent, the weyrwoman's response aims for composure and just fails shy of it. "You disapprove then? That I speak to him as such?" Her own, smaller hand entwines in his, fingers curved in a loose grip, the other sliding up to try and rest along his shoulder, but given the height differences it ends instead, pressed against his chest. "He's a good looking man, despite the leg. My pretty little nose looks down on nothing." I'daur notices when B'yan's gone, frowning after the bronzerider a moment. He hesitates, lingering where he is and then, finally, rising to shuffle a few steps closer and take a seat a chair or two down from Talien himself. He still isn't saying anything, though he looks like he'd like to, mouth opening briefly, and then pursing again as he can't find whatever word it is he wants. In the end, it's a gruff, "Evening," that he sends to the other cripple. There's a distinct sort of satisfaction in R'hin gaze as he notes Emilly's reaction, a low chuckle escaping him. "We'll see," he agrees. "I'm sure Telgar would forgive us - eventually." To Shanlee's comments- particularly that far too innocent look she offers - he grins, "Unless you're offering to nurse my hangover with one of your own?" His hand is half held out, like he's waiting on the bottle to be her answer to that particular question. A girl slides through the crowd, avoiding the dancers deftly as she comes to tug on Kylissa's sleeve. A few turns younger, she has the same hair color as Kylissa, and once she gets the older girl's attention stands a little on her tip toes to whisper into Kylissa's ear. The message obviously isn't well received, and Kylissa soon shoos her away with an annoyed glare. Talien, calling out to the departing B'yan, "You'll be the first to know when I do!" She's quick to cradle the bottle against her shoulder at that threat, and though Alik doesn't look terribly pressed to take it away, he doesn't look thrilled that she has it either. "We're going to a bar, you know. Lots of us." Conversationally offered toward Alik while Talien tries to work her gifted bottle open. Alik misses such as his cue to help, because he's put to looking at I'daur in confusion. Unsure whether the man is having fits or is just acting normally, Alik doesn't act in time to beat I'daur's greeting. Talien faces him, openly surprised and still clutching her bottle, she says, "Sir, hi...uh, drink?" With K'del delivering a meaningful look towards the bowl, B'yan passes the drinks table picking up another wine bottle to place under one arm, sends Kylissa and her charge a sly look as he steps by her, and he's gone out the bowl with other wingrider trailing him - slipping out very much the same way he entered. "I'm sure there's plenty of Harpers to go around anyhow," Emilly musters a neutral sort of response and glugs more drink. Seems safest. "I'll let him know though that you asked after him especially, sir. I'm sure he'll be honored you remembered him." B'yan strolls outside to the bowl. B'yan has left. N'thei leans down just a little, imperceptible to onlookers but likely catchable by his partner. His nostrils flare, a little sniff for the smell of alcohol on Satiet, then he's straightened up and turning an elaborate whirl optional to the dance. "Do you care if I disapprove? I doubt greatly that you do, so why ask? I can still worship from afar, even if you are callous." He smiles right down at Satiet like that's a compliment. Ywain strides into the cavern from the lower caverns. Ywain has arrived. Okay, so innocence isn't her strong suit. Bottle held back out but not relinquished to R'hin, Shan's mouth curves into a grin at a memory "You told me once that you'd share a cure for hangovers" the light voice lilting upward "But I get the feeling you might just have been wanting my wineskin..." the bottle eyed "....or a jogging partner." a slender hand lifts and waves vaguely "I forget which now." Should the bottle be taken, she'll loose her grip on it readily enough. Emilly's reaction and following silence couple with the Weyrleader's interest in her weyrharper son do not go unnoticed - information tucked away to be taken out and studied another day. "Could use a refill," I'daur agrees, never one to turn down alcohol. That's invitation enough for him to scoot down again, into the chair beside her, brushing shoulders with her. "I hate these things," he notes then. "Y'want me to open it?" A nod, albeit one she can't see, to the bottle. "Figure I can either break it or just pretend I'm drinking it," Talien says before handing the bottle off to I'daur. "'course you'd probably cry if I did so here." She can't see the offer, but it doesn't mean they're not on the same page. There's a slight pause before Alik's features crease with an inexplicable wince and he finds a reason to hastily depart. Talien, having sunk a little in her seat, straightens before saying, "I do to. All two of the ones I've been too." A quick beat, then, "So we're gonna be stuck together for a long time, huh?" Ywain should have been here -- how long ago? The Harper, whose hair rather defies 'bedhead' because that state could be considered a constant about him, comes hauling himself and two drums in their bags, up the stairs, taking those minor elevations two steps at a time. Breathing just a touch heavily, he arrives and takes a glance around, confirming Lateness. Jaw sets for a moment of silent beratement, before the Public Harper face -- the flash of white-toothed grin and self-effacing humour rearranges his features into droll pleasantries. The dark-skinned, broad and not-really-tall fellow addresses himself to a corner, claims a seat and settles in it. Mere moments and there's a collection of instruments on the table - his drum, a harmonica, a rattle that must be filled with seeds, and a handbell. But it's the drum that Ywain picks, first and always, and settles across his lap. "Hard to forget. Bright - I always remember those. And the hair, you know, is pretty striking," R'hin says of Emilly's son, with a wry sort of grin. Shanlee's comment earns a grin, "Ah, so I did, so I did. I'll have to make good on my promise." He takes another swing from the bottle, and the strength of the liquid is more expected this time. "You threw wine on me, last time," I'daur notes conversationally as he pops the bottle open with practiced ease--it's no trouble at all for the old drunkard. He moves to have the first drink, and then offer it back to Talien, touching it to her hand so she knows where it is. Then, not nicening up his words: "Yep. 'Less they decide to move you to the regular disabled wing. Tried to do that to Zunaeth 'n' me, when we got back." "Oh well yes, I've two that have my hair and two that got their fathers'." Emilly seizes on that little detail with a warm smile. There's two permanent spots of red in her cheeks now as she finishes her drink, the alcohol already taking effect as she giggles again in a very un-weyrlingmaster's assistant-like way. "And ... well, those are some very pretty compliments, Weyrleader sir. I'm very proud that my boy left such a positive impression." Suddenly, the greenrider hiccups and her hand claps over her mouth. "Oh dear," she mumbles through her fingers, then moves them long enough to say: "Do excuse me? I think I need some water ..." Kylissa glances between the younger girl she just shooed off and the handsome idiot at her side. Finally with a sigh, she whispers something to her fool and heads off in the direction the girl took. The man follows behind her so closely he nearly treads on her hem, though luckily for him he manages to avoid actually doing it. More words can be heard mumbled about "meddlesome family" as Kylissa heads out to the bowl. Talien snorts, though delays answering in order to take a drink. Not being a drunkard herself, the taste earns an immediate wince and a hiss before she's holding the bottle back out to him. "Not drunk yet. Might get to it eventually if you don't drink all this, though." Wiping her mouth with her hand afterwards, she says, "Tried... an' you got two good eyes. Hey-" She sits up even straighter and faces I'daur as best she can. Needlessly, but still, "How 'bout I trade you a leg for an eye and maybe between the two of us we can get into those normal wings I hear so much about." Kylissa strolls outside to the bowl. Kylissa has left. It's the smile that does it, Satiet's blushing and potential retort disarmed by it, and with a laugh that responds to his 'compliment,' and upon her return from being whirled, the goldrider eases into N'thei's arms all the more. Relaxed, even. "Do I care? Probably not," she concedes. "Am I curious?" She doesn't answer her own question except to tilt her head to the side and lift her brows. "You've danced before. Like this." I'daur takes another sip, and this time holds onto the bottle. "Wine's not my thing," he tells her, not that it seems to be stopping him much, as he drinks again. "Figured you wouldn't want much to do with me, let alone trade. Helping me out with the weyrlings not good enough?" A pause, as he passes the drink back. "We make good examples." Thick fingers slide over the skin of the drum, easing a few vibrations out of it, as if the percussionist feels that the instrument needs to be warmed up, as well as his own fingers and posture. Or perhaps it's an easier way to worm the sound into the general hub-bub of conversation and those instrument-jockeys who already managed to make it here. A touch here, harder, and then softer tap-tap, and the sounds insinuate themselves within dialouge and the rhythm of the music. Sneaky, quiet, and then Ywain's drum stands on its own. Another few beats, and it's contributing, as if the training period, brief as it was, paid off. Talk of hair color in conjuction with offspring pulls a wrinkling of nose from Shan but she keeps her comments to herself for now. It's Emilly's hiccuping and giggles that brings laughter to filter out, but not unkind in its delivery "See you later then." pause "I'll just look after this for you." a slightly unsteady hand points to the other glasses still standing untouched on the counter. R'hin's grin and words met with raised brows "So long as it works." The lean that had been taken up against the table is gone when she straighthens, just a hand staying herself on its top until she got her bearings on wobbly legs. Emilly wiggles her fingers at Shanlee. "Absolutely. Guard the drinks!" says the elder greenrider with another set of giggles and hiccups as she makes a fast dash for the kitchen. Emilly goes home. Emilly has left. The expression R'hin wears as he glances at Emilly is one part concern, two parts amused. He barely gets out, "Are you okay--" before she hiccups. "--uh, sounds like a good idea. See you," he bids her, snickering at her parting comment. Shanlee's unsteadiness is noted, and he slides a hand towards her elbow to help steady her. "Mm. Seems like you're guarding quite a bit of drink already." Talien's about to say something, but quickly thinks better of it. "That's the thing, sir. I didn't listen 'n that's why things went like they did." Talien takes the bottle and spends a small span of seconds holding it before she takes a rather large pull. Following it, she says, "Think you're a good guy 'n I don't hate you 'n I'm sorry." As though he'll be bribed that easily, Talien gives him the bottle back before asking, "Well?" "Like this?" N'thei's steps hold steady and unflourished when he lifts his hand from Satiet's waist, traipses two fingers down the satiny curve at her waist, shakes his head fractionally. "But I've danced before, yes." He chances another twirl then, dancing Satiet the length of his arms before drawing her snugly back to him, his palm more appropriately at her hip again. "Are you curious? Then..." His words are quieter. Emilly's dash kitchenwards finally draws the oft unheard sound of a giggle from Shan, her head swinging a little too fast to follow after the older greenrider. This results in a somewhat unfocused look back up to R'hin as he takes her elbow "Hhmm? Don't want it going to waste you know." slowly green unblurs long enough to reveal an odd light which disappears again behind widely dilated pupils that then touch over to where Talien sits with I'daur "Celebration isn't it?" somehow those words don't sound quite as bright as they're meant to. A wide grin flashes once again burying all else in its brilliance "I might have to let someone else guard those." nodding to the drinks on the table "And head out for a bit." The music swells, as if trying to swallow up the newest percussionist, then it settles in a comfortable truce, the drum lending guidance to the movements of those braving the dance floor, who listen to the heartbeat of the song. And the drummer himself glances sidelong at his fellow musicians, a grin briefly side-swiping his features. A wink punctuates that, before Ywain turns the better of his attention toward the others - particularly the Weyrlings who are no longer. I'daur's brows knit at that, as he glances to Talien with a frown, not reaching for the bottle immediately. "Then you make a real good example," he says to her former words, and then the latter: "Don't think they're gonna let either one of us flying, whatever we work out. But, y'know. You... helped out last class already, 'n' Faranth knows sane assistants are hard 'nough to come by, so." A shrug, and a drink finally as he takes the bottle and doesn't watch for Talien's reaction. "I think that wise," R'hin concurs with Shanlee's assessment, head tipping as he studies her for a moment, hand steady enough on her elbow. "And, being that I want neither bottle nor your good self to come to harm, I'll have to escort you safely to your weyr," he says, in the patient tones that one uses to convey some bland instructions. "Last thing I need is for you to trip. Or drop the bottle." A hint of facetiousness now, in his tone. Satiet moves with the grace of one who dances often, and is able to follow N'thei's leads without skipping a beat. Finding herself nestled closer in his arms on the heels of the second twirl, the raven-haired woman half-lids her eyes, silent and still in expression behind the veil of dark lashes at his frankness. There's no immediate response either in voice or expression as they continue to move to the beat of the drum and the music that accompanies it, until finally, her gaze, brilliant blue, lifts, followed by a crooked quirk of her lips, "Unattainable. To be worshipped. You almost warm my cold heart, bronzerider." "Yeah, I figured." Talien says, likely to all of what I'daur's just now said. She waits another long moment before stating, "Don't think I'm exactly sane 'cause, y'know, I said you were a good guy and all, but-" She shrugs and in the same motion, bites her lip before stating, "Figure maybe you could use the help and it's not like I didn't do it /before/." She raps her knuckles on the table as though to settle the matter before stating, "You gotta tell me if you're smiling or not, though 'cause if I try and find out for myself we'll both be blind. Don't figure they'll like that." The music continues, a sort of unspoken challenge coming between the Weyrharper and the lead strings player - neither taking a cue to wind the song down. Or perhaps this is a perverse method of control, to keep the Weyrwoman and one of the newest full-fledged bronzeriders on the floor. Shanlee shakes her head slowly, although feels rather fast to her as the whole room swirls by in the action "Nooo....keep the bottle safe." words agree but by safe she likely means 'with her' for the way its now clutched against her not relinquished. About to argue that she was capable of walking out under her own steam and finding her weyr at that, the Weyrsecond has to acquiese to the offer made before she can say as much. Someone hurrying by barely bumps into her but causes a heavy slap of hand to table to keep her balance. "Ooookay." the fuzzy smile that accompanies the singular agreement only just holding back giggles that threaten once again. "To sleep, perchance to...." brows furrow as the rest is forgotten "....something." she gives up. "I don't smile," says I'daur flatly. "Unless I'm ordered to." But he is, and it's very nearly audible in his voice for that moment before he shoves that smile away as he does the bottle, back to Talien. "I'm getting out of here--enough of this crowd," he announces then, as he scoots his chair back and stands. "Good night, Talien." "You just wait," Talien says - not smiling, and trying very hard to keep it that way - "I'm gonna be giving you orders before long." She takes the bottle as it's given, holds it close against her chest but doesn't try to empty it any further. "Night, sir," she says in turn. The fond twist of the title is subtle, the kept-back smile more obvious. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, bright and early." N'thei could just walk off the dance floor early; but, dear me, let us be graceful or die trying. No more twirls for a spell though, for banter takes precedence over dance moves; "I can live with almost." Mellow gray eyes meet those bright blue ones while he smiles broader, satisfied with so small a victory. "And I'll take that to mean I'm not wrong." Now another spin. "Don't get too drunk in the meantime," I'daur warns Talien, with a half-smile again before he's gone, limping out the door. R'hin's hand still rests on the Weyrsecond's elbow, the other moving into the small of Shanlee's back, as he guides her towards the door. "You know, if I didn't have to brave that bright weyr of yours, I'd stick around longer to enjoy your articulate company," he observes with a bland humor. "As it is, I'll leave a present for you--" he's explaining as he leads them towards the bowl. The game amoungst the musicians then seems to become /when/ to wind down. Three seperate tries, each rejected by a different player who launched the collective sound back into movement and sound, is tried and tossed. The fourth is true, and the sounds all gradually fade together, drum echoing strings, strings singing low backdrop to woodwind. And the entirety finally, with one final bleat upon the wind instrument, ends. Musicians at once begin to toss lighthearted insults -- who isn't listening, who isn't following -- and why is it that those dragonriders have all the booze? She spins, the yellow dress flaring only slightly away from her legs before settling upon her return. "Why deny what's true?" Aware of who and what she is, Satiet shrugs one shoulder carelessly, sliding her hand up the rest of the way off his chest to tweak his chin. The dance ends, if only because she steps back off beat and gestures with a tiny little bow of her head, "And you flatter me with your first dance as a bronzerider and not a weyrling. Go find yourself another girl to worship," another of her signature smirks, crooked and smug claims her lovely mouth, "One whose heart isn't quite so difficult to melt. Or the bottle to drown your sorrows in." Alik slinks back as I'daur disappears, set and ready to lecture Talien as he draws her out of her seat. The words 'parents' 'bad girl' and 'not sharing with me' sprinkle the lecture he gives as he leads her toward the bowl. All Shan's able to give in return is a rather mumbled "I like gifts" as R'hin leads her out and to the blissful oblivion of inebriated sleep. You meander outside to the bowl.

---

---

Leave A Comment

Name (required):

Comment (required):