Logs:Snowdrift at Nerat's Gather
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| RL Date: 28 November, 2014 |
| Who: V'ros, Milani, X'ton |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Members of Snowdrift and guests, including Milani, head to Nerat's gather. |
| Where: Gather Grounds, Nerat Hold |
| When: Day 22, Month 5, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Giorda/Mentions, X'ton/Mentions |
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| By the time Snowdrift's riders show up at the gather on Nerat's grounds, everything is in full swing and it's hard to see anything beyond the thickly-packed crowd. Tents stand on the outskirts, boasting everything from crafter wares to hogsheads of ale and wine. Strings of glows wind around poles and free-standing structures, giving little illumination in the quickly-settling dusk. Voices, both practiced and slurred, build on top of each other to create a cacophony of sound that nearly drowns out the jaunty tunes being played by the harpers up on the stage. There is plenty of laughter and taunts thrown out between the Snowdrift riders, who move through the throng in a loose pack; they don't quite deviate from each other, but neither do they stand shoulder to shoulder. V'ros stays near the back of their number, as much due to his shorter statue and short strides as it is due to his newness in their wing. He chances a look at Milani and tries for a casual tone. "Been to Nerat.. often?" Doesn't quite hit the mark, but then, it's normal for this brownrider to be so awkward. Having tagged along with a few others who caught a lift with Snowdrift to Nerat, Milani's abandoned the warm jacket used for the flight Between with the dragons. Beneath those warmer layers, she's dressed to the nines, but in a light, sleeveless dres, as befits a gather in Nerat's warm climate. She seems perfectly at ease in the crowd, even with the mixed group of ages the wing represents. V'ros' awkwardness is met with an easy, warm smile as the headwoman's assistant aims to set him at ease: "Many times, though not so often for the last ten turns or so. A few of my friends and I used to get out to every gather we possibly could get to, during the season. Couldn't pin us down," she notes laughingly. "Is this your first visit, other than training?" They're moving towards the tent with the alcohol, getting more somber as they go. "How do you.. get Giorda to agree to that?" V'ros has on his jacket, for now, despite the heat and humidity hanging in the night air. His eyes follow his wingmates' entrance into the beverage tent, and he ducks his head, holding back the flap to let Milani precede him. "Other than training.. yeah, my first. Haven't been out here before coming to the Weyr." He gives his admission with a faint smile, and flushed cheeks. Milani grins all the more widely: "Because back then, I was /her/ boss," she notes, sotto voce and casts the young brownrider a broad wink. "Thank you," she says sweetly as he holds the tent flap for her and she ducks inside. "Nerat puts on a good party, I think it's partly due to the warmth of the climate. Just mind some of the fruit drinks: they're deceptive, taste mild, but are a lot stronger than they seem." "Ah," V'ros notes, and behind her, gives a grimace for talking casually to the former Headwoman. "I don't.. fruity isn't my.. thing." Lamely, he adds the last, and lets the flap hang. Laughter and jokes fill the air as his wingmates interrogate the vintner on duty, causing the young woman to flush and duck her head as she rushes around, filling their orders. "C'mon, Ros, this girl gots the red like you!" And they're back to cackling, leaving V'ros to flush the deeper, sweeping the rest of the tent with a broad glance that settles, in the end, on Milani. "Where are you from?" Because, small talk takes away from the larger picture. Clearly, Milani doesn't stand on ceremony as regards her rank, current, or former. It's a night out on the town with old friends and possibly new. "What is your thing?" she asks gaily as she leans against one end of the counter while the others are placing orders. "And I'm Reaches born and raised. You're from a seahold, right?" Her tone remains friendly and casual as she casts back in memory for the places the most recently graduated weyrlings came from. "My thing.." V'ros stares darkly at the vintner pouring draughts from the nearest ale barrel. "Stout. Wine's alright." He passes a hand through his short-cropped hair and then raps his knuckles on the counter to get the crafter's attention; everyone else has been served. "Ale and.." His fingers flick towards Milani, awaiting for request, because he isn't the type to order for a woman. "Not a seahold, but north of Tillek. Export wool." "Ahh, an ale man," Milani replies with a little nod. Her chin lifts toward the serving vintner and she shoots the woman a smile. "Nerat brandy," is her order. "Ahh, right. Tillek-but-not-sea," she echoes. "Do you miss it at all? Or does the weyr feel like home now?" "I'm a.. a.. sure." V'ros passes the vintner the appropriate marks for his and hers, and steps away from the counter to assess Milani as he drinks. "I did.. miss it, at first. I don't anymore. I've.. grown out of it, and the Weyr feels more like home. It's Zmeyth's home." He takes a couple steps to the side, careful not to bump into the assistant headwoman. "Anything you want to see? Shop? Eat?" Again: "Thank you!" as V'ros ponies up the marks for the drinks. "I'll buy next round," she offers, however. "I'm glad the Weyr's gotten to feel that way so soon. It's often harder for some young riders who impress from the holds," Milani notes as her hand curls around her glass and she takes a sedate sip from it. "If it's your first time at a Nerat gather, we should wander a bit so you can get a good look around. It's the dance floor I'll be wanting to visit sooner rather than later. I love to dance. How about you?" Some of the other Snowdrift riders are starting to spread out and leave the comforting feel of the beverage tent. V'ros doesn't miss the shift of dynamic, and watches as each, in turn, wanders out into the warm night air. "It might not.. have, but Zmeyth.." He clamps his mouth closed and shrugs, motioning with a hand towards the exit before his strides stretch out to bring him back to the flap. "I'd like to get a look." His hand brings the flap up again, holding it for Milani. "No, I don't.. dance. Not anymore." Milani knocks back the rest of her drink and leaves the glass on the counter for the vintner to reclaim. "Dragons change everything," the assistant headwoman remarks lightly and falls into step with the brownrider, ducks through the flap as he holds up again. Over her shoulder with a curious look: "Why not?" Could that be a grin? But it's gone too fast, and V'ros is letting the flap fall once they step outside. "They do. You don't know.. how much, until they're.. there, in your head." He frowns, now, and starts moving past the beverage tent and past another, this one arrayed with ceramics. "Not good at it. It's.. humiliating, when you aren't. Who'd want to?" "So I've heard," Milani replies with a little smile. "It's interesting observing candidates change through weyrlinghood and become full riders. I can only ever see it from the outside, so I can't understand it from that point of view, but those of us who are weyrbred and don't Impress, we see it over and over, so there's a different kind of understanding." She ambles along at an easy pace, letting V'ros take the lead. "Pretty glaze on that," she notes idly of a platter on the display. "Because it's fun if you don't think about it being embarrassing. That and if you don't practice, you can't get better. What trips you up most?" Milani asks casually, keeping her tone light and conversational. "Right." V'ros finishes off that short statement with a long drink of his ale. "It would be.. weird, not living at the Weyr, being.. somewhere else, somewhere without.." his eyes flick to the side where, across the way, one of the Snowdrift greenriders is haggling with a smith, "them." His wingmates. Not even weyrlings anymore. He turns his head to look at the platter she points out, but his silence says a thousand things his words couldn't. "Everything? I don't know where to put my feet. And I can't catch the.." Pausing, with a frown. "..beat?" But then he's moving towards a weaver booth filled with accessories like hats, cloaks, gloves, and other accoutrements. "I can't imagine living elsewhere either, myself, but for different reasonse." Pause. "The Reaches is home," Milani says firmly. Her gaze follows his to the Snowdrift group and she grins. "Mm. People come and go though ... wings can change," she muses thoughtfully, "but the Weyr, somehow, still stays mostly the same." A little shake of her head, seems to clear more serious thoughts and the assistant headwoman re-focuses on dancing. "Hmm. So that strikes just moving with the music as a possible strategy for you. Though generally speaking, when I'm teaching someone, I tell them to forget about putting feet in the right places and just listen and let the music move you. The right steps aren't always that important, unless it's a very structured dance." Haberdashery and millinery can't help but attract Milani's notice and she slows a bit to size up some of the merchandise. A loud crash and laughter sound somewhere nearby, but V'ros hardly hears it for the matter of their conversation. "I've tried. Other have tried. I should stick to.. sitting on the side." He shrugs and takes another long drink, leaning against the nearest support beam while Milani checks out the accessories on display. "I used to.. want things like that. Now, they're pointless." Riders wear their jackets, but what need do they have for fancy outerwear, hats, and pinnings? He shrugs and buries his face in his tankard. "Nothing wrong with knowing your limits, though don't count yourself out completely, you never know when something might change," Milani notes over her shoulder, fingering the fine fabric of a scarf. "Is something pointless if you enjoy wearing it or using it, or you feel comfortable with it?" she asks the brownrider, mouth curving into a lopsided grin. "I'll confess that I still harbor a girlish love of pretty things, but I don't go overboard. The assistant headwoman leaves the weaver's tent behind without purchasing anything. "Hungry yet?" she asks him, "best not to drink too much on an empty stomach, right?" V'ros eyes the pretty things and makes a grunt-like sound into his ale. He has a mouthful when he nods his acquiescence to Milani's suggestion. "I could eat." He doesn't wait for the strawberry-blonde to move towards the trestle tables set up near the food booths, but takes the lead, again, and straggles nearby one serving meatrolls and meat roasted on sticks with spices. "Good?" he asks, finally, giving the woman a questioning stare. "Mmmhm, though I recommend trying some of the stuffed breads, like those over there," Milani points in the direction of another food stall. "Meat on a stick is always good though," she says with a touch of humor. "What's your usual favorite?" "We can get both." V'ros picks up a couple skewers each and shuffles to the stuffed bread booth, where he picks up a couple of those. "Fried legumes." His bounty claimed, he steps over the seat of one of the table benches and plops down, spreading out his fare for Milani to pick from. "It's better at gathers," he observes with a small, boyish smile. While V'ros is securing dinner-like foods, Milani slips over to one of the many baker's tents and secures local flaky pastries stuffed with tropical fruit. "Now there's a gather feast," she says laughingly and peeks around, maybe for some of the other wingriders. "Looks like some of Snowdrift are making new friends," she points out where some flirting is going on with what look like traders. "And I agree, somehow, being out and about in the fresh air makes all the food taste better!" She settles down beside V'ros and snags a meat skewer to start with, munching down with gusto, but eating neatly for all that. They've definitely got a feast to finish, and he too looks out for his wingmates to help finish off the food. Being that they've involved with some traders, well, V'ros has no choice but to attempt such a feat himself, with Milani's help. He picks apart the stuffed bread and pops a piece in his mouth. "Kitchens can't make it this good." Hopefully, no one from the Reaches' kitchens are around to hear that comment. "Hard to make things taste as good when you're cooking for so many all at once," Milani agrees. "Though depending on who's cooking in the Snowasis, you can get some seriously good eats in there." This between bites from the skewer and occasional, dainty licking of her fingers. "So, you must be all settled into your weyr by now. How do you like it? Comfortable enough?" Cheeks stuffed with food make it hard to speak, and so V'ros just nods a bunch until he swallows. He will, instead of licking his, wipe his hands on his pants when the moment calls for it. "Comfortable. Warm. Right by the hatching sands. Zmeyth likes it." He shrugs and drains what's left in the bottom of his mug, letting out a satisfied sound before stuffing more bread and meat into his maw. "Niiice," Milani approves of 'warm by the sands'. "Need anything furniture-wise or decorating-wise, still? If you do, just let me know and I can help find it in stores." She beams a grin sideways at V'ros. "I like helping people get set up, or re-decorating." She finishes up her skewer and tackles the bread, breaking off bits and munching away. From over by the dance square, the sound of a merry tune drifts forth, swirling together with the chorus of crowd voices to make the unique noise of a gather. "Don't stay there long enough to care about the furniture." V'ros slides the last morsel of meat off the stick and sticks it into his mouth, chewing reflectively. "I wouldn't turn down.. fresh sheets," he says sheepishly, shrugging away her concern and setting into one of the pastries she nabbed from the baker booths. "You know," he says, brows knitting, "X'ton is a good dancer." His eyes automatically try to seek out the bluerider, but with so many people milling around, it would be hard to find the Weyrwoman in such a crowd. "Lots of duties? Or are you just not much of a homebody?" Milani asks in reaction to that particular statement about furnishings. His comment about the sheets earns a sideways glance. "You do send yours down to the laundry, right? So we're talking, one or two extra sets to keep on hand?" She has another few bites of the bread, leaving very little behind. Apparently, the assistant headwoman has a big appetite. Mention of a good dancer earns a quick-flashed smile, "Is he? Well then we'll have to try to find him, otherwise I'm likely to nab an available trader. Are you sure you won't try a turn if it's a slow one? You can just kind of sway back and forth for those ones." "Staying in my weyr," V'ros reflects, "gives me too much time to think." It's the prevailing emotion that thinking leads to.. bad thoughts, or something. "Yeah, I do," a bit sheepishly, "but it's not like new sheets. Ones no one else have had." That is stretching it a bit - being a rare commodity in a Weyr full of people who would all love new sheets. "I'd.. prefer not to." He's resolved not to dance, and his search for his wingmate is resumed. "X'ton," he calls, spotting the foppish man with straw-colored hair nearby the meat-on-a-stick booth. "He's decent." "Too much time to think," Milani echoes and props her chin up on one hand while the other breaks off a piece of pastry. "So you prefer to stay active and 'doing', hm?" Munch. Another piece of pastry is broken off. "I'll see what I can rustle up for nice, new sheets. I'll assume you don't want girlie patterns on them, but otherwise, any color?" She does give him a brief sad-face about the dancing. "All right, I won't insist, but let me know if you change your mind." X'ton is duly noted, for later. "I don't.." V'ros goes still, eyes considering his empty mug now. "I wouldn't call myself active." For the sheets, he has a simple shrug and a mumble, "Whatever's easiest." Because he wasn't expecting her to agree and so he's a little speechless. That is until X'ton comes walking towards them, seeming to think he's been hailed by his fellow Snowdrift rider. "Right, X'ton, this is Milani, Milani this is X'ton." Even if they know each other. X'ton avails himself of one of their pastries, making a horrible mess as he does so. "Mm, where'd ya get these? That there?" He's pointing towards a booth across the way, one that V'ros doesn't know, so he just shrugs. A sunny smile slides V'ros' way as he disclaims 'active'. "Well, we all do what we have to, right?" And then: "We'll see what I can find and I might be able to give you some options." She finishes up her pastry just in time for messy X'ton to arrive. "Hey there, X'ton," she greets him with what must be now apparent, as customary cheer. "Over there," she points out the stall in question. "V'ros tells me you like to dance, maybe save me one?" she suggests gaily. Furtive eyes meet in some unsaid understanding, and the two young men cut their eye-lock, with one grinning widely and the other frowning as he finishes his pastry. Hint: V'ros is the second one. "Heya, nice to meet you, Milani," X'ton greets, sticking out a sticky-fingered hand to shake the assistant headwoman's, "I can show ya a thing or too!" He sets one foot on the bench seat and leans an elbow on the upraised knee, gesturing with his other hand. "Not a single lady been displeased with what I've got to show em." V'ros just frowns, some more, and stares down at his food. It's entirely possible that said looks do not go right over Milani's head. It's a definite that she only shakes the tips of X'ton's fingers, most likely not caring to get her hand stickified. And yet, she just makes big eyes up at the rider. "Really? Well now, we'll just have to see about that," she replies sweetly and gives the platter with the remaining stuffed bread toward him. "Here, have a little bit of this," she suggests and rises from her seat. "I'll be right back V'ros, I need a drink after all that good food. I'll bring back a pitcher." X'ton doesn't appear to notice the difference in the way the woman shakes his hand, his grin only grows that much wider. "Alright, be waiting for ya right here." He pats the top of the table with his palm, identifying it as where he will be waiting. "Can't say for this guy." V'ros has taken up frowning ferociously at his blueriding wingmate, but says nothing more than a mumbled, "okay" to Milani about the pitcher. After a little while, Milani returns with a pitcher of frothy ale and several mugs. These are set down on the table and she fills one up for herself and one for X'ton. "Refill, V'ros? I made sure to get some of the darker stuff, though it's not stout." She has a few sips from her own mug, then gives the table a little tap. "Something caught my eye in one of the stalls over there, I'm going to go dicker over price with the craftsman and I'll be back!" she promises. Dickering over the price of a lightweight shawl winds up taking longer perhaps, than expected and whether or not X'ton has the patience to wait, Milani does eventually return, but with company, having found some other friends. That ought to make for a gaggle of ladies to accompany to the dance floor. Should V'ros decide to observe from the sidelines, yes, Milani and most of her pals sure can kick up their heels. But if X'ton was hoping to get more than a dance out of the evening, he'll be disappointed. By evening's end, hopefully everyone's eaten enough to satisfy stomachs and taste buds alike, drunk enough to be happily buzzed but not sick the following day and those who like dancing have had their fill. Milani will seek out V'ros for her ride home if he's still around to be found and if so, a pleasant farewell is bidden once they've returned to the Reaches across time zones and back into the earlier part of the day. |
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