Logs:Post Hatching Feast at Fort
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| RL Date: 27 February, 2016 |
| Who: Farideh, Quint, Dahlia, Jocelyn, T'gar, Jo, Olivya |
| Involves: Fort Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: A feast after Fort Weyr's hatching. |
| Where: Living Cavern, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 18, Month 2, Turn 40 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions, Drex/Mentions |
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| Quint appears to weather Jocelyn's stare with an equanimity that suggests long practice. "A dance or two with the correct people ought to put your obligations to rest," he tells the gold weyrling, as they make the trek across the snow-covered bowl, short enough that he flings his coat over one shoulder rather than tugging it all the way on. This makes it easy to shake out and hand off when they reach the caverns. "A prop helps, with the obligations," he gestures towards the drinks table. With the hatching ending, Jo rises along with the others as she nods for M'ron and Kaitlin (and T'gar, presumably) to head out. Of course the wingsecond caught that lingering look from Farideh, but Kait was tugging her out of there before anything could be made from it. It takes the group awhile to make it to the feast - having likely taken the scenic route rather than the shortest one. M'ron and T'gar immediately make a beeline for the drinks table while Jo and Kait closes in on where the food resides. Once the obligation of the hatching is complete, and everyone has seen her smile and play nice with her weyrleader, it's the drink attendant that Farideh finds herself chatting to at the resulting feast. She's even got an ample glass of wine between her hands and a wine-induced smile on her face, if not a rosiness to her cheeks no doubt caused by the weather outside and not unnaturally fast drink consumption. "Was that candidate your brother? I'm sure you're very proud," she can be heard to say by anyone within their vicinity, while the attendant continues chattering about the hatching and his brother's newfound lifemate. "A word or two with the correct people, " Jocelyn grouses in turn as she crosses the bowl with Quint, all too happy to relinquish her cloak once they're indoors. Dryly, "Your expertise at least makes the dancing tolerable." Was that a compliment? Her chin lifts in the direction of his gesture, enough so that she can give a dip of a nod in T'gar's direction as she spots him nearing the drinks. "It can, " agreeably enough, and if her shoulders roll back into an even stiffer set as she espies Farideh by the drink attendant, at least she doesn't promptly veto the idea, peering instead around the person in front of her as best she can. "Is your sister here, do you suppose?" "Then you ought to use that knowledge and try and snag a harper," Quint tells Jocelyn with a brief grin. The visiting harper's attention seems to shift between the local harpers providing music, the crowd in general (perhaps trying to search out someone specifically?), and his companion, though he keeps pace well enough for all that. When their line draws them close enough, he nods towards Farideh. "I haven't seen her," he answers, leaning to peer past T'gar and M'ron and determine the length of the line. When Jocelyn and Quint draws near, T'gar nods back at the goldrider before he says, "Jocelyn. Enjoyed the Hatching?" M'ron's focused on filling his two glasses before moving off while the weyrling moves aside with his smaller glass to fill it and to give space for others to grab drinks. At the food table, at least Jo and Kaitlin manage to grab small plates themselves before M'ron arrives to Kait's side, and when the wingsecond spots Farideh she heads that way as the other is engaged in talk. "Pass my congratulations to your brother when you see him." It's an ending to a new beginning, anyway. Farideh turns away from the tall attendant just in time to catch Quint's nod, and Jocelyn's presence beside the harper. Her returned nod is gracious, and in a flicker, there and gone, a slight smile; who it's for is anyone's guess, harper or goldrider. "Jo," is much warmer and amused, when she turns once more, to find the wingsecond bearing down on her. "What brings you all the way out here?" As though they don't both know. "I thought I would be envious and want-- eggs again, but I don't miss them just yet. Not all of," with a hand flourish, "this." Jocelyn warms slightly to Quint's grin, something that's apparently preferable to those practiced expressions of his. "Perhaps, " she replies, and then there's a brief study of T'gar. "It's different, watching one with a dragon, " she answers the bronzerider noncommittally, permitting herself a small thing of a smile after. "Your friend and her lifemate must be proud." Quint relinquishes his escorting duties as T'gar and Jocelyn speak. With a wordless nod to the pair, he steps forward to secure a couple of glasses; one of red, and one of white, offering the second to Jocelyn. Just in time to catch the trail end of the conversation: "You had a friend standing?" he says, with a curious glance at T'gar, interested. "Who would wanna miss a hatchin'?" is Jo's return greeting to Farideh as she casts a look around them. Her gaze lingers on those dressed well - the well-to-do, naturally - before returning to Farideh as she chews on a roll. Brow lifting to something said, "What, don' wanna go through all that, eh?" There's an underlying tease there, but she doesn't linger on it. "Well, it'll sure come yer way eventually. Maybe not anytime soon, darlin'. Where's that boy o'yers?" On the other side of the cavern, T'gar takes a drink of his glass before answering Jocelyn with a nod and a, "I bet." There's a nod to Quint when he questions next before he says, "No, she means Dee. Her queen's the one that laid those eggs. I thought I'd come around and catch her for a bit," But. As he eyes the crowd, it looks like his search is proving fruitless. "Who would wanna miss a hatchin'?" is Jo's return greeting to Farideh as she casts a look around them. Her gaze lingers on those dressed well - the well-to-do, naturally - before returning to Farideh as she chews on a roll. Brow lifting to something said, "What, don' wanna go through all that, eh?" There's an underlying tease there, but she doesn't linger on it. "Well, it'll sure come yer way eventually. Maybe not anytime soon, darlin'. Where's that boy o'yers?" On the other side of the cavern, T'gar takes a drink of his glass before answering Jocelyn with a nod and a, "I bet." There's a nod to Quint when he questions next before he says, "No, she means Dee. Her queen's the one that laid those eggs. I thought I'd come around and catch her for a bit," But. As he eyes the crowd, it looks like his search is proving fruitless. "Did you have bets out?" It must finally hit Farideh some of the draws to these things for the bluerider, besides the obvious, even if she misses that assessment. "I hope you didn't lose terribly bad, and-no, not just left. If we're lucky, none of them will rise for at least another turn or two." Her eyes slant towards the other Reachian goldrider briefly, and then flick back to Jo with a hike of her brows. "Back at home, I suppose. Drinking up a massive tab at Snowasis. He-- well, you know how he is," prompts both a shrug and a drink from her wine. "Weyrwoman Dahlia, " Jocelyn rejoins after T'gar's clarification, taking the glass of white from Quint with a murmured thank-you. "I'd hoped to congratulate her in person, myself. But I imagine, " and there's a glance around the cavern at large, "so does the rest of Pern." Her gaze, in the midst of traveling, briefly catches Farideh's look; this time, there's a small nod of her chin for her colleague before she takes a sip of her wine. "Ah. Well, I imagine she's busy with... the obligations of a goldrider," Quint says, with a glance at Jocelyn and a barely suppressed smile. He lifts the glass to his lips, takes a small sip, and his eyes rove across the crowd, searching still in between conversation. "No bets," Jo answers, shaking her head. "I'd have to know 'bout the candidates for that." As for Drex, there's a snort easily heard from her before she flicks a studying glance at Farideh before saying, "Not surprised. Perhaps ya can save me a dance sometime tonight then. If ya dare." There's a bold look to go with that. T'gar nods at Jocelyn's clarification before adding to Quint, "Likely right. It's fine if I don't catch her tonight. Quintus, right?" he peers at the harper now. The Weyrlingmaster hasn't had the opportunity to change, with blood (thankfully not her own) still splattering along her white tunic, though Olivya has managed to shrug back into her usually bold, bright red leather jacket. Her red lipstick hasn't even smeared through the evening, nor has any strain started to show. Instead, she converses with the junior in low, professional murmurs as she matches her long stride to Dahlia's while they enter the cavern, barely seeming to parse the change with her intent focus for the moment on whatever she's relaying. Of course, Dahlia went to check on the weyrlings before putting in her own appearance at the feast. She nods along to Olivya's words as she moves alongside her in her gather best green dress, though a few turns out of style. She wears it well, her chin-length hair tucked prettily. "Drinks?" She inquires of the greenrider as the topic shifts more to the here than the there, already moving to collect some for the both of them. Even if Liv has a long night ahead of her, a little celebratory drink now shouldn't hurt? Only as she gets a pair of drinks in hand, she spots the knot of High Reaches riders that includes goldriders, familiar bronzerider, and Harper and she angles that way, nodding toward Olivya her intent, greeting the lot with a broad smile and a cheerful, "Fort's duties to High Reaches Weyr. Thank you all so much for coming." "Not even any dragon-in-eggs guesses?" Farideh needles good-naturedly, and then resumes her fast-paced draining of her wineglass. "A dance? Why wouldn't I? You think he'd stop me from dancing with you?" sounds incredulous. There's a long pregnant pause to follow and then she laughs outright, only barely covering her mouth with a hand. And then there's Fort's junior and the Weyrlingmaster with her. Summoning up her I'm-a-polite-lady facade, she regards the other brunette for a moment, allowing room for other introductions, before she inclines her head politely. "High Reaches duties. Congratulations to you and yours." Maybe those props do come in handy. Jocelyn's glass lingers at her mouth a moment longer before she lowers it again, the better to hide her unsuppressed smile. "Undoubtedly." It's a little dark, but there's a keenness to her gaze once Taeliyth's comes into view, expression arranging into something polite. "Dahlia. Congratulations to you both. And to that little candidate of yours. Brown, wasn't it?" But there's a flash of a genuine smile somewhere in there, both for the younger goldrider and Catling's Impression. "Correct," Quint replies with the habitual answer of a teacher; he chuckles. "Well, as I understand it, weyrling T'gar, you'll soon be graduating, so I imagine finding the time will be a lot easier." He turns at the formal greetings, replying in kind: "And High Reaches -- not to mention Harper's -- to Fort." He gives a nod of his head, gaze briefly on Dahlia, and skipping to Olivya. "Congratulations on a healthy clutch," he lifts his glass in toast, taking a small sip of the contents. If it's a Lady-off, Olivya has the skills for that; she certainly holds herself like one and meets Farideh's politeness with her own reserved manners when she offers, "Weyrwomen, pleased that you could make it out for our hatching." Having accepted Dahlia's offered drink (just the one), she lifts the wine to her lips now that hides a polite smile behind its clear edge. When her gaze meets Quint's, it lingers as if trying to communicate something silently. Whatever it isn't, it isn't said now while everyone is offering their congratulations to her own weyrwoman. "M'ron'n Kait follow all that," Jo answers on bets easily as she watches the crowd while she eats. With Farideh agreeing to a dance though, the wingsecond flicks a wry glance her way before saying, "Why wouldn' ya indeed?" By then Dahlia arrives enough for her to nod and say to her, "Congrats." As for T'gar, there's an open chuckle for Quint and Jocelyn before Dahlia's and Olivya's arrival draws a nod in greeting from him. "Hatching went well," he adds his well-wishes, of course, his gaze lingering longer on the Fort weyrwoman. "Thank you," Dahlia answers the congratulations as one. "And Fort's duties to Harper, of course, Journeyman," she offers to Quint with a chagrinned smile for having missed that off the bat. "Weyrwoman Farideh," she half questions with a little tilt of her head, "I'm so glad to meet you," and her hand is offered toward the acting Weyrwoman, though she nods with a smile to acknowledge Jocelyn's particular congratulations toward Catling. "I do hope you're all enjoying the feast. I don't think we could've asked for more - a healthy clutch and lifemates for all. And now all in Olivya's capable hands." Lucky Olivya. The junior is pleased. "Rat," she addresses the bronzerider without any apparent shame for their association, "You'll dance with me tonight, won't you?" After all, that's what the music is for, right? The weyrwoman's eyes flick sidelong to Jo, and her lips part like she means to say something else on the matter, except-- she doesn't. Instead, Farideh grasps the hand offered her way and extends her polite smile to Dahlia, fingers lightly gripping before they loosen. "It's lovely to meet you as well, and under what better circumstances? It's a shame it wasn't sooner, but I'm glad to have been a witness to such a wonderful day for Fort and, you, of course," has the ring of genuineness, at least. "You've met Jocelyn? And--" Her eyes flick to the other weyrling in attendance. "I do believe I spy my weyrleader over there and I should have a word with him. I'm glad to have met you finally, Dahlia. You shouldn't be a stranger to High Reaches," smooth, purposeful. "Excuse me." And with a last, meaningful look at Jo -- for that dance promise no doubt -- she's slipping off to probably go yell at K'del somewhere. "Good luck to you, Weyrlingmaster, " in the wake of Olivya's greeting. "I think Quinlys will be glad to have us completely removed from her responsibility soon enough, " says Jocelyn with at least some good humor, lingering through a few more minutes of small talk. Once a round of pleasantries seems all but complete amongst those nearest, she surrenders her barely-touched glass to a passing server, slipping her arm from Quint's elbow with a small grimace. "I should get back before it gets too late. I'd like to talk with your sister sometime, if she comes back with you." Meanwhile, there are excuses to be made - and Farideh's departure is apparently also her cue to work her way toward the exit leading to the bowl, pausing only to return the occasional greeting and to reclaim her outerwear. Whatever the Weyrlingmaster might be trying to communicate, Quint's expression is unwavering. He gives an easy nod to Dahlia, apparently unconcerned by the correction. He's silent while further pleasantries are exchanged, lifting his glass to his lips, but taking only a small sip. He gives a nod for Jocelyn -- perhaps lingering a little as she mentions his sister -- and murmurs something acknowledging. While others slip away, he seems inclined to do the same -- but first, he moves towards Olivya's side, murmurs a request for a dance, and leads the Weyrlingmaster off towards the dance floor. |
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