Logs:A Clutching Affair - Revision history

Bot: Text replace - "HRW Clutch 33" to "Clutch 43"

2016-01-21T20:18:05Z

Text replace - "HRW Clutch 33" to "Clutch 43"

K'del: Text replace - "Clutch 33" to "HRW Clutch 33"

2015-03-23T08:18:12Z

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Bot at 03:45, 10 March 2015

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Kaleidoscope at 01:14, 23 January 2015

2015-01-23T01:14:22Z

Bot at 07:11, 5 July 2014

2014-07-05T07:11:28Z

Bot at 07:04, 5 July 2014

2014-07-05T07:04:04Z

@@ Line 14: / Line 14: @@
 | quote = "Maybe Tiriana just needed a quick break?"
 | weather =
-| categories = General, HRW Clutch 33, Ousting Tiriana
+| categories = General, Clutch 43, Ousting Tiriana
 | mentions = Aughan, Giorda, Rynien, Tiriana
 | icons = iolene.jpg, k'del_formal.jpg, riorde formal.jpg, azaylia breezy.jpg, brieli red.jpg, issedi.jpg, damaris.jpg

@@ Line 14: / Line 14: @@
 | quote = "Maybe Tiriana just needed a quick break?"
 | weather =
-| categories = General, Clutch 33, Ousting Tiriana
+| categories = General, HRW Clutch 33, Ousting Tiriana
 | mentions = Aughan, Giorda, Rynien, Tiriana
 | icons = iolene.jpg, k'del_formal.jpg, riorde formal.jpg, azaylia breezy.jpg, brieli red.jpg, issedi.jpg, damaris.jpg

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 {{Log
-|Involves=High Reaches Weyr
+|involves=High Reaches Weyr, High Reaches Hold
 |type=Log
 |who = Azaylia, Braeden, Brieli, Damaris, Iolene, Issedi, K'del, Riorde, Shimana, Toren

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 {{Log
 |type=Log
 |who = Azaylia, Braeden, Brieli, Damaris, Iolene, Issedi, K'del, Riorde, Shimana, Toren

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 {{Log
-| who = Azaylia, Braeden, Brieli, Damaris, Iolene, Issedi, K'del, Riorde, Shimana, Toren
+|type=Log
 | where = Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr
 | what = The feast for Ysavaeth and Cadejoth's clutch.

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 | what = The feast for Ysavaeth and Cadejoth's clutch.
 | when = Day 26, Month 9, Turn 28
 | gamedate = 2012.05.10
-| quote =
+| quote = "Maybe Tiriana just needed a quick break?"
 | weather =
 | categories = General, Clutch 33, Ousting Tiriana
-| mentions =
+| mentions = Aughan, Giorda, Rynien, Tiriana
-| icons = iolene.jpg, k'del_formal.jpg, riorde formal.jpg, azaylia breezy.jpg, brieli red.jpg
+| icons = iolene.jpg, k'del_formal.jpg, riorde formal.jpg, azaylia breezy.jpg, brieli red.jpg, issedi.jpg, damaris.jpg
 | log = It's a feast! Sort of. Even though the eggs were expected a clutching feast is never quite the same magnitude as a hatching one. Still, there are people, there's food and drinks floating around on trays and a buffet at two opposite sides of the cavern. There's even dignitaries, mostly local ones, but a few Weyrleader pairs from distance lands might be recognizable scattered through the crowd. Of course, with recent events at High Reaches, this clutch would garner some curiosity, and the gossip that churns across the floor is the number of eggs and the existence of that one, not quite white one; (un)lucky number thirteen, indeed.
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 "Hi," Brieli merely responds to Iolene - with an actual smile. She lifts her glass in a silent salute rather than offer any congratulations or formalities, even given the occasion, Ysavaeth, etc. Perhaps she saw the goldrider down that drink in one go? After a long drink of her own, she asks, "Who's more relieved now? You or her? I'd guess she is; you might be later." Her cultured tones are sympathetic, especially when some of Damaris' friends start making themselves scarce. For Damaris herself, she has a grin, a little wave of a near-empty glass. "You work in the kitchens, yes? I think I've seen you."
-[DRAGONS] The bronze from Southern Weyr sends curt greetings, along with the slightest twitch at the absence of a Weyrwoman's dragon to greet. Is there admonishment in the typical formality of respect and greetings?
+Dragon> The bronze from Southern Weyr sends curt greetings, along with the slightest twitch at the absence of a Weyrwoman's dragon to greet. Is there admonishment in the typical formality of respect and greetings?
 Riorde pretties herself up when she feels like it, with hair swept up and wearing that chic, simple black number she pulls out for special occasions; some day she'll get herself another dress. Riorde's on a mission, slipping by clusters of riders and other celebrants, purloining a glass of something pale and sparkling, and arrowing in on the lady of the hour. "Iolene," she hails, as bright and bubbly as her champagne, and tries to insinuate herself next to the goldrider in order to slip am arm around her waist for a light, friendly squeeze. For the occasion, she uses her clutchmate's full name. "Congratulations are in order, aren't they?"
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 Lady Issedi's wandered to find herself a cachet of male riders to speak with, her brilliant smile belying the sorrow her family must have faced, or the troubling news of her imminent broken betrothal. No, Issedi's here to enjoy and revel in her first visit to the Weyr, and as pretty as she is, there's no lacking in possible companions as the Weyr males (and some females) pay court to High Reaches' (as rumor would have it) soon-to-be eligible heir-apparent. Her brother, on the other hand, watches indulgently from afar and scans the crowd.
-[DRAGONS] In reply, Cadejoth's enthusiasm is effusive: such a lovely clutch we have! Ysavaeth and I are proud. Iovniath-- there is only, there, a faint rattle of his chains, a sad, isn't-it-a-pity-about-her that explains nothing.
+Dragon> In reply, Cadejoth's enthusiasm is effusive: such a lovely clutch we have! Ysavaeth and I are proud. Iovniath-- there is only, there, a faint rattle of his chains, a sad, isn't-it-a-pity-about-her that explains nothing.
 Eyebrows lift, at Iolene's mouthed words. "Don't," she's quick to say, voice firm. Damaris sits forward and leans, reaching to try and pat Iolene's shoulder reassuringly. "I never stay out of trouble, but that's..." and she's seeing Riorde and pausing briefly before she sends a smile up that way, too. "That's pretty much how I like it. H'lo, Riorde." Another drink from her glass. "And I'm doing well, thank you." Her eyes catch briefly on K'del but don't linger, a moment given over to a scan of the crowd. Faces are noted, placed, and then she's looking back to the little circle around _her_ table. Preen. To Brieli she says, "I do, sometimes." Pause. "Most of the time. You've probably seen me, or at least heard someone cursing me. I'm Damaris." Yes, she's in rare form tonight.
-[DRAGONS] Wisely, the Southern bronze says little, and the ensuing silence feels more as of a communication placed on 'hold' rather than completed, for shortly, he returns with a show of how disappointed he is, that carries with it the golden notes of his mate. Disappointed. That's how they'll play this, this southern pair.
+Dragon> Wisely, the Southern bronze says little, and the ensuing silence feels more as of a communication placed on 'hold' rather than completed, for shortly, he returns with a show of how disappointed he is, that carries with it the golden notes of his mate. Disappointed. That's how they'll play this, this southern pair.
 Some people's voices seem naturally designed to carry. Off past Braeden, a trio of older riders are talking in voices that might have been intended to be muted: they are not. "Exile queen," dismisses one of them. "No doubt she'll make sure they all Impress exile friends. No more good, solid riders for ''this'' Weyr. No wonder Tiriana's gone off the deep end."
-[DRAGONS] And in reply? Cadejoth, too, is disappointed. Such a pity: such a sad thing. If ''only'' Iovniath and hers were here to celebrate with them. If only they were ''able'' to. It's more subtle than might normally be expected from the bronze-- and his chains buzz with sandy heat.
+Dragon> And in reply? Cadejoth, too, is disappointed. Such a pity: such a sad thing. If ''only'' Iovniath and hers were here to celebrate with them. If only they were ''able'' to. It's more subtle than might normally be expected from the bronze-- and his chains buzz with sandy heat.
 "I want to." Azaylia gives a delicate nod, surely thinking she's coming off as decisive and firm in that moment. Nobody tell her otherwise. "So, congratulations." Now she does stop suddenly, tense for as long as it takes for the awkward moment to pass. "Well..." And yet she seems intent on prolonging the tension. "As long as Cadejoth is happy." Clearing her throat, she's eager for another topic, "It is. I really hope you and Iolene have a good night..." Concern for both perhaps misplaced, the Apprentice stiffens and turns her head. It's visible now, that concern from earlier, but all too soon her face smooths and she's offering the Weyrleader something from her plate.
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 "Damaris," Riorde recognizes, pleasant enough with a smile to match. It freezes, caught in place as she overhears what she -- or Iolene, more likely -- was meant to overhear. She leans into Iolene for a moment, and before she lets her arm drop away, addresses the others from a position of solidarity. "Nice to meet you. Exciting, isn't it? Io and I grew up together -- we're all ''so'' proud of her." The expression admits more than just esteem, pitched with a prideful sort of defiance. "If you know who they are," she murmurs far more quietly to Iolene, "tell me later, and I'll see if we can't have a talk."
-[DRAGONS] Benden's queen extends a greeting in Ysavaeth's direction, quietly apologetic. << You must be tired, of course. I don't like to intrude. You don't need anything? >> There's an undercurrent of regret in her tone, as though there ought to be another ensuring the well-being of a first-time mother, one who has failed in this duty as she sees it.
+Dragon> Benden's queen extends a greeting in Ysavaeth's direction, quietly apologetic. << You must be tired, of course. I don't like to intrude. You don't need anything? >> There's an undercurrent of regret in her tone, as though there ought to be another ensuring the well-being of a first-time mother, one who has failed in this duty as she sees it.
 Azaylia takes it in stride, not ''too'' obvious in her growing smile though she manages to joke, "More for me." Though even as she partakes, her head is turning in the opposite direction of the Weyrleader's. When she looks back up, the Herder intends to catch his gaze, curiosity evident. "Maybe Tiriana just needed a quick break?" Optimism isn't too rediculous to the young woman. She bites her lip and motions with a hand in Iolene's general direction, "Do you want..? I mean, I haven't gotten a chance to say hello, either." Smile shrinks, small and understanding.
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 Brieli gives a little wave as Iolene introduces her, only slightly distracted in her effort to sort out where aspersions were being cast from. At the goldrider's shot at humor, she forces herself to focus. Lightly, "Perhaps they were intimidated." Io's not exactly intimidating right now, but who knows? With an easy smile for Riorde, "Exciting that Io doesn't have to watch Ysavaeth pace anymore, as I understand, as well. But yes, I'd never seen eggs before. I - I didn't very much like the idea of watching the clutching itself. It seemed too... personal. Something. I suppose that's strange." She glances Damaris' way as she steps off, then helpfully provides an explanation; "Ah, right. They're not much out of the kitchens, yes?"
-[DRAGONS] Ysavaeth is placid, graciously accepting as a ''queen'' should be, of these regards from afar. The excuse of being wearied that reverberates in her tremulous mental touch allows her the latitude of a lack of tangible words, in lieu of which is a wash of emotions: pride, adoration, gratitude. ''Thank you for caring. Thank you for mothering. Thank you for supporting us,'' where 'us' flares the muted image of Cadejoth and her soon-to-be brood.
+Dragon> Ysavaeth is placid, graciously accepting as a ''queen'' should be, of these regards from afar. The excuse of being wearied that reverberates in her tremulous mental touch allows her the latitude of a lack of tangible words, in lieu of which is a wash of emotions: pride, adoration, gratitude. ''Thank you for caring. Thank you for mothering. Thank you for supporting us,'' where 'us' flares the muted image of Cadejoth and her soon-to-be brood.
 K'del's laugh is not really genuine, and more tinged with awkward bitterness than anything else. "If that were the case," he tells Azaylia, after heaving a deep sigh, "We'd all be much happier for it. I'm afraid I don't-- her absence is being noted." He doesn't specify by who, or how, but it's obvious in the lines on his expression that he's not entirely sure whether this is good or not. Probably not. "Should we join them? Don't want to crowd her. Probably ought to go and pay my respects to more people, too." And doesn't he sound ''thrilled'' about that.
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 To Brieli; "I'm sure it's the smell." The rest of the bubbly getting gulped back brings some semblance of Iolene's gaiety, particularly as her smile strengthens. "You lot are either foolish or too nice to stick around me." One hand reaches out to squeeze Riorde's elbows and the blonde head ducks for a brief moment to murmur a few words, that, if she were sober wouldn't be audible, but as she's fast not being sober is quite over-hearable: "If by talk, you mean broken arms or noses, Ysavaeth would rather you didn't. I mean, ''I'' would rather you didn't. We don't need another reminder of Tiriana here. Let's just have fun, Ri, ok? Please?" And she concludes the 'whisper' with a kiss to the brownrider's cheek.
-[DRAGONS] Elleth knows those emotions well, and in return, she provides a wash of motherly warmth and encouragement - even pride. << All will be well, >> she promises. << Rest. You have a beautiful clutch. >>
+Dragon> Elleth knows those emotions well, and in return, she provides a wash of motherly warmth and encouragement - even pride. << All will be well, >> she promises. << Rest. You have a beautiful clutch. >>
 Braeden's smile lasts only until he spots an elderly figure seated by the hearth, distant and yet somehow still involved in the goings on. She's distinct by the cluster of folk who, with many an aquiline nose and Reaches blue eyes stand out as Weyrfolk who aren't of the Weyr. Slow steps pick him off that wall and towards this cluster of folk, his target the old woman, and with more respect than generally granted ''just'' the elderly, he bends at the waist and proffers a bow. "Might we speak, Shimana?" And from there, the world might just end.

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