[Log] Civil Conversations, Pt. 2
Who: Bele, Bresis, Dannah, D'mer, D'ven, Jaeni, Kelara, K'lian, K'rien, Margan, Orielle (NPC), Sh'drian, Sinet, Sl'ren, Tirya, Venra (NPC), Winter
When: Day 6, Month 7, Turn 1, 11th Pass
Where: Living Cavern, Ierne Weyr
What: There's always something going on at Ierne: at the after-hatching banquet, Winter punches L'yan and Sh'drian runs Jaeni off when he and Tirya get along better than she'd like.
Notes: Find Pt. 1 here.
"Yes, mopiness!" Tirya informs the man with a nod while she continues to eat. A glance is sent Margan-ward and then she grins at Sh'drian. "Mmm, he is slick," she notes with a chuckle. "It must hurt your ego to be around that one," is added before he white wine is sampled with appreciation once more. She then peers past Sh'drian, offering a friendly and some encouragment to come closer to the nervous new goldrider.
Sinet snorts softly, "If I'm such a pain in the neck, why did you hold my hand the entire hatching!" His eyes drift to Bele from the flames, and he gives her his toothy grin, as his voice drops low once more, "I'm sure, I don't want to get into more trouble you know."
Bele lifts up her chin slightly then snorts. "You held my hand just as much..." and she sniffs. "I guess. I do gotta go get some wine for Remmi and a meatroll or five for me and Kelara. Do stop by if you wanna say hi at least."
Sl'ren doesn't even dignify the weyrleader's latest with a reply. Looking around, he spots some of former fellow candidates, Sinet and Bele, but seeing them somewhat occupied he withdraws his wave
Kelara sighs and runs her finger aroundthe top of the glass. Pausing she dips her finger in and tries again, trying to make the glass sing, but it only seems to squeek at her.
"Hey there yourself." D'ven laughs softly, smiling back at D'mer. "Going to introduce yourself to me, then?" He teases. "Or do I have to guess what they call you now?"
K'rien leans closer to say softly to Tirya. "Slick, and cute, too." He jokes just for the goldrider before he straightens up to smile to K'lian and point over towards the table set up of food. "It's over there. They've even got bubblies tonight!" He adds as if this is a wonderous thing.
Sinet nods, "But I liked holding your hand! Maybe I will, but its alot warmer here by the fire." He spots Sl'ren's wave and returns it with one of his own, before turning eyes back to the fire. He actually steps a bit closer.
Sh'drian offers K'rien a smirk. "I'm sure you and L'yan will keep them well in hand." Pause. "All of them." He eyes Venra as she enters, lips pursing slightly. So focused on the blue weyrling is he that he almost fails to note Margan's words; when they register, he half-turns to eye the assistant steward, brows arching in response to the other man's words. "Doormat. Has a nice ring to it," he drawls mockingly. Cutting eyes toward Tirya, he pauses. "Care to explain that, then?" he prompts her. "And you should know: nothing hurts my ego."
D'mer smirks a bit at the older weyrling at his side, blue-green eyes sparkling, "Xyrinth calls me D'mer..." he says, sitting up just a little bit taller now in his seat as pride washes over him. "What about you?"
Jaeni raises an eyebrow with amusement, "Jaeni. It's easier than Wingleader. There's a bunch of those running around, not too many people named Jaeni though." She smiles and purses her lips to hide it as she glances over to Sh'drian. Placing the mug back down, she makes a move to place her hand back on his leg. "I can't say I'll be able to all you Doormat, I might just have to stick with your actual name."
Orielle catches a glance from Tirya, and she gives the Southern goldrider a respectful nod and a twitchy smile. Moving a few steps closer to the cluster near Sh'drian, she seems to be moving stiffly, but the pain in her expression fades, perhaps the numbweed is kicking in again. "Hello, ma'am," she greets Tirya. "Sirs," she adds to Sh'drian, K'rien, and Margan. Venra piles on a plate that would make both L'yan and A'kil proud, plunking it down in a free spot at one of the tables as if she owned the place and begins to chow down.
Bele quirks up a little bit of her original smile and colors a bit. "I thought so.. Uh, well, I'm gonna go get some then. Don't burn your bottom, I gotta see enough of it on the sands." She turns and with that goes to gather a platter with probably more food than she should be having. It goes off with her to Kelara's table along with three stem glasses of wine.
"Trenoth says I'm D'ven, now." The older weyrling replies, his own movements mirroring those of his fellow almost exactly. "D'mer." D'ven rolls the name around, grinning. "It has a ring to it."
K'lian seems to have finally located the food and gotten himself just enough to satiate his hunger. He wanders towards the table his brother and D'mer are at and gives a sort of smile. "Uh," he offers. So eloquent, that. Finally, clearing his throat, he continues: "Might I join you guys?"
Margan rolls his shouders casually and offers another suave grin. "Coming from your lips, I'm sure even Doormat would sound lovely, Jaeni. Though Margan, will suit me just fine if you will," he tells her, seemingly unconcerned with her proximity to Sh'drian. Margan only chuckles at Sh'd's comment and continues to sip his drink.
Kelara drinks a little wine, maybe less in the glass will make it sound better as she tries to run her finger around the rim again. The tone a little better. When Bele comes back she looks up, seeing the three glasses. "Oh, Remmi left. Don't think he was feeling comfortable here."
D'mer begins to shovel again as D'ven speaks, his eyes fixed on the man to his left, remembering to swallow before opening his mouth again. "D'ven certainly is shorter then Daraven..." he says with a chuckle before his attention is gathered by K'lian, "Be my guest. We're going to be seeing a lot of one another now, might as well get used to each other all over again."
Bele puts the glasses down on the table and the plate from her other hand. "Oh.. well, huh. I guess we'll have to figure out something to do with it then. Can't waste it." She slips into the seat. "So, news from Seminole? Is it cool down there? Did you getta fly up here?"
Tirya now offers a giggle to K'rien and nods. "Cute indeed," she says, tracing Margan with her pale eyes before shifting her attention back to the greenrider. "He has a delicious build. But you didn't hear that from me if C'ryn asks," she tells him jovially. "Hmm?" she murmurs at Sh'drian, the wine definately bringing out her dazzed and adoring side.
K'lian settles down in a seat and smiles at D'mer. "I... don't think you and I ever got properly introduced. But, you likely know me. Everyone seems to know me as Dar's younger brother." He shrugs his shoulders a bit, glancing briefly to said brother. Having heard his sibling's introduction, he offers his own: "I'm K'lian now."
"I still like Doormat," Sh'drian interjects, smirking at Jaeni, then Margan. "Seems more fitting." He nods firmly, casting a glance over at Orielle and nodding slightly to the new goldrider in greeting. "Evening," he tells her, glancing appraisingly over her injured form and back to Tirya quickly. He lowers his voice to murmur something to the Southerner, a flush creeping up his neck slightly as she looks to him. Hastily, he finishes up his second glass of wine and doesn't waste down filling a third: the bottle itself will suffice.
Sh'drian mutters to Tirya, "... know, this... nice. Us... to... a... conversation, I mean. We,... a... long time."
You whisper "You know, this is nice. Really nice. Us being able to have a nice, civil conversation, I mean. We, uh, haven't in a very long time." to Tirya.
"A lot shorter." D'ven agrees with a nod. "I like it a lot better, too." He smiles, taking the opportunity to get some eating of his own in. "K'lian." The man echoes, glancing at his younger brother. "It suits you."
Sl'ren notices Sinet spotting his wave and gets up and goes over a little closer, "Sorry you didn't impress. Think you're gonna stick around the weyr?"
Jaeni stares at Margan for a moment and snickers somewhat. "Right, lovely. Quite the opposite, I assure you." Gesturing to one of the newly vacated chairs nearby and grinning. "Take a seat? It has to be better than standing around with that drink." The bluerider watches Sh'drian as he murmurs something to the goldrider. She looks distinctly uncomfortable and stares down into her drink for a little while, before glancing up at Margan again.
Sinet glaces at Sl'ren, "Congratulations! And a brown too! I guess that woodcrafter at the Hall will be thanking his lucky stars that you won't be able to get that branding iron for that harper." He gives a brief nod, "Yup, I was here before I was searched. Definately won't go back home to Southern Barrier."
D'mer tips his head towards K'lian, watching him sit and smirks a touch, "I think that might have something to do with the fact i had little to do with anyone most of candidacy K'lian," he comments with a soft shrugs as it it doesn't really matter now, and then he looks to D'ven, "I was just tell D'ven here that I'm called D'mer now...though I have a feeling it might take a while to answer to that should I get called by name."
K'lian grins sheepishly, nodding his head as he begins eating his meal, with near the voracity of the newly hatched dragons. "Oh, I know. I still intend to go by Kil, though... It's similar enough to my new name, I guess." He lifts a hand, tugging out the tie in his hair, letting the mass fall about his shoulders.
K'rien grins over at Tirya and snickers. "No, of course not. You would never tell me something like that, if C'ryn asks." He jokes before his gaze turns to watch D'mer and the two brothers for a moment with a smile. "I was quite impressed with L'yan's N'all impression earlier." He adds softly to those around him.
Kelara shrugs her shoulders a bit, "Not much new down there. Their was a little accident at the Baker's hall. Apprentice knocked over a pile of flour sacks. Everybody came running out looking like ghosts except for these eyes peering out from white faces." She giggles a bit. "Was funny until the Masters started yelling. It is cool there, but not a cloud in the sky this morning." She runs her tongue over her teeth, "That about it. Oh, yes, the watch rider gave me a ride up. Not sure how I will get back though."
Margan glides over and sits down. "Much obliged," he notes, tipping his head head to her as he settles into the seat. For a moment, he scans around the room and then sighs before shifting back into his more lively than normal self. "Are you one of the Oldtimers?" Margan continues to make small talk with the bluerider. He brushes his hair over the back of the chair so as not to lean on it and then rests a thickly muscled arm on the back. He lounges there, eyes fixing intently on Jaeni.
Sl'ren grins at Sinet, "Yeah, got myself a good one in Isirith. Sl'ren is going to take a little bit of getting used to as well. Hmm, yo know I just realized I never took anything apart down at the craft hall, darn. I might have to go back once I'm able to fly to take something apart for old time's sake"
"I think it'll take me a while too, D'mer." D'ven nods in agreement. "Though at the same time, it just feels right. So maybe it won't take us that long after all." He scans the crowd for someone, but dosn't find them.
Bele is mid sip of her glass of wine as she hears about the flour sacks. That gets snorted almost and she lowers the glass quickly. "Oh fardles, that had to be great to watch. Hopefully, you weren't caught in the blast for that." She wipes her lips on her sleeve ungracefully. "If you want, you can wait for me to ride back down, if you don't mind the runners."
Sinet winks at Sl'ren, "Well, with a brown, perhaps you can urge him to accidental step on things... then you get to put them back together."
L'yan falls quiet after making his short report. He tries to make quick work out of his meal, but is hampered by his lack of practice. No longer can he inhale huge bites with hardly a pause between them to swallow. Since he doesn't seem to be required to speak, however, he is still making steady progress.
D'mer manages in minutes to clean his plate completely, downing the last of his klah and then letting out a very soft sound of contentment, in ways of a burp. "Pardon me." he murmurs, then looks between the two brothers, "Well, I hardly think that I'll escape being called Dax now and then, though Xyrinth seemed a little put out when Weyrlingmaster L'yan called me Daxmer earlier." He then nods to D'ven, "It dopes feel...right doesn't it? I never would have thought in a thousand turns that anything could make me feel so complete as Xyrinth does. Like...she was what was missing all this time."
Tirya giggles at K'rien and nods. "Good. I love my weyrmate, but I've had enough white wine to admit...that man is delicious," she murmurs and then shakes her head. "Alright, I really must make this all for me tonight. I had some earlier to warm me and I'm losing myself," she tells no one in particular. "Oh," her lips form the shape of the sound as she turns back to Sh'drian. "With all that is in your life lately, I hadn't figured you cared about such things," she tells him, eyebrows knitting.
Kelara finishes off her wine and reaches for one of the ones newly brought. "Hey, that could be fun. How soon do you think you would be hitting the trail again? And may sure a boat is ready. Don't think the runners would like to swim that far."
Sh'drian offers K'rien a skeptical snort. "L'yan? N'all impression? Please. I would have paid good marks to see that. There is no sharding way he could pull that off. Trust me," he drawls, shaking his head mockingly. He casts a quick glance at Margan and Jaeni, eyes narrowing blurrily at the pair before he shrugs it off. The wine seems to be getting to him as well. "Course I care," he returns to Tirya. "You were my--my--friend. Closest friend, only friend, whatever--for a long time. I've always liked talking to you." Pause. Frown. Amended: "Well, most of the time, anyway. And you better take advantage of this wine while you can," he urges her, taking another sip and sliding the bottle closer to her. "It's quite good, considering the stuff we usually have around here. Bet Southern don't have nothin' quite like it."
Sl'ren laughs, "Well, a full grown brown could do a bit of damage, but I don't think him sitting on a press would leave it in a state where I could fix it"
"Exactly." D'ven nods feverently, in agreement with D'mer. "Trenoth asked me, as I was settling him for sleep, what we'd do with out each other. One of these innocent little questions, the type kids ask, you know? But it upset me even thinking about it."
Sinet ponders a moment, "Perhaps ask him to accidently knock it over with his tail? And why are you so interested in the harper presses anywas?"
Jaeni nods once and asks wrly, "I look great for someone who's 222 turns old, don't I?" Her eyes glance to his hair as its' flicked over the chair and his rather large arm. Shaking her head she makes eye contact again. "I assume you're from this time then?" Whatever passes between Tirya and Sh'drian, she seems intent on ignoring it for the time being, regardless of what they may be talking about.
K'rien turns his focus back to Tirya to laugh. "Hey, there's nothing wrong with admiring and looking." He says before shaking his head over at Sh'drian. "No, I swear. If he was another foot taller, I would have thought N'all was in the room." K'rien comments before turning back to his own food, klah, and gazes around the cavern.
Dannah has been listening, for a while, but finally she's decided that she's had enough, and with a yawn, she stands up and heads out, offering a little wave of her hand.
Bele smirks a little bit. "When they get me back on the messenger boards, probably first runner out if I get my way. It's getting too cold to sleep in a cavern here, yanno?" She takes up a meatroll from the plate then she pushes the plate to the center of the table to mark sharing privledges. "And yeah, we don't wanna see if runners float, not in that cold water."
D'mer makes a face that shows his equal displeasure at the thought of being without HIS Xyrinth and shakes his head, "Ugh, who'd even WANT to think about that?" he asks D'ven, frowning and tapping the worn rough wood of his mug with the tip of one fingernail, slightly longer then they should be all things considered. But then again, he does have all that hair. "Xyrinth, she just wanted to be fed, oiled and scritched...then she just sort of passed out. It was so cute," he says with a real honest to goodness girly giggle.
Margan smirks and lowers his eyes in mock shame. "I would never have used that very sad line," he tells her. "I may be old and rather ill-suited to games of intrigue, but I'm not -that- bad," he tells her pleasantly. "Though I must admit, you do look good," he tells her bluntly. "And yes, I've old, but not quite so," he says with a crooked half-smile that might possibly be seen as charming.
Sl'ren smiles at Sinet, "One of the first crafters I met after ariving at the hall was a journeyman printer. I never got the chance to leave him a present, though I don't need the harpers upset at me, but would be fun to see the look on his face as long as the press could be repaired in the matter of a couple minutes"
"My Trenoth, apparently." Daraven replies with a fondly amused shake of his head. "He's a very curious type. Everything we did, he wanted to know about. I have a feeling Why will be his favorite word, closely followed by What, Who and How." He smiles softly. "Cute. That's a very good way to put it."
Sinet ahs softly at Sl'ren, "I see. Well, I hope yhou get a chance someday to get your wish at playing with a press." He shrugs, "Though I hear harpers are pretty overprotective of them."
Kelara hmms at Bele, "You mean you thinking of moving out of Ierne altogether? Plenty of room at Seminole if you do." She glances around the room a bit and the snags a meatroll from the plate, "Where would I stay until you ready to head back? Oh, and I'd have to ask Kadriya if I could be away that long for the trip."
Nodding his head, D'mer can't help but smirk further at the new bronzerider, "Just don't turn into another you-know-who, okay?" he asks softly, aqua eyes wandering over Sh'drian and then back to D'ven again. "I heard impression can really change a person, and I'd like to keep you on the friends list rather then not," This last part added quietly indeed and with an almost shy lowering of his gaze.
Winter casts her gaze across the living cavern once in awhile, glancing surreptitiously at L'yan also on occasion. Her gaze lingers on a man with his hair draped over his chair like a cloak, and her expression is mildly melancholy.
Bele shakes her head just a bit. "Oh, you can pull up a cot near mine in the resident caverns. THere's usually an empty one or two in there." She nibbles at the meatroll. "Well, if you're gonna be running with me back, you can just use that as reason: missed the dragon shuttles, though we could get someone to take you back if you'd rather." She sips the wine now, washing it down. "I'll still be with Ierne, but I really hate sitting still for so long."
Sh'drian derives a great deal of amusement from K'rien's words, actually snickering at the greenrider. "I'll make sure I put in an appearance in the barracks next time he does that," he vows, shaking his head.
Daraven laughs quietly, shaking his head. "Promise. I'd rather stay friends with than not, too." He dosn't seem as shy as his fellow when saying this. "Besides, Trenoth loves me the way I am. I wouldn't change for the whole of Pern."
L'yan keeps his head down, focusing on his food, but after a while, he does need a drink. While reaching for his mug of klah, he looks up and inadvertently tries to follow Winter's gaze. At the sight of the table where she likely is focused, he clenches his jaw. "Ma'am, excuse me, ma'am. I didn't mean to intrude," he says stiffly, moving to stand.
Jaeni raises her eyebrows, "Is it really so bad?" She asks with a side-ways grin and comments, "I think I would have used it. You know, if I was talking to myself." Seeming at least halfway amused by his flattery, "I wear this everyday and you're not old. The term old is reserved for people who don't ever get out of chairs."
Winter hears that 'ma'am' again, and it regains her ire. "Let it not be said I don't keep my word," she growls, and she surges up from her table to keep that word, fist ready to belt the Weyrlingmaster, and she swings!
Tirya eyes the wine proferred to her and shakes her head. "You've carried me out of one hall before, it won't happen again," she tells him. "Especially when there is no where to go since I can't ride home that way," she notes with a chuckle. The woman finishes her glass and then slide both it and her bowl away. "So, are you happy here?" she asks him in an honest manner.
Sl'ren blinks and nearly knocks his klah over, just staring at Winter, "Oh, this is going be, um, intersting living here that's for sure"
Kelara giggles, "Could be fun, like a sleep over. Well as long as Kadriya doesn't get mad. What the hay." Munching on her meatroll she looks at her new iwne glass curiously and gives it a try. Wetting her finger in her mouth before she runs it on the rim. "Drat, need thinner glasses."
D'mer giggles again, clearing his throat as the sound registers into his impression happy head, sitting up straighter again in an attempt to make it seem like he's more manly. Puffing out his chest and all. "Yes well..see that you don..." his melodical-alto tapers off as his eyes befall the Weyrwoman swinging at L'yan for some reason, a pale brow arching slightly, "Ah, let the drama begin." he murmurs to D'ven, nudging the bronzerider beside him and nodding his head over to the brown and goldrider.
Bele is in line of sight for the swing and she looks surprised. She stands for what little better view she can get and looks shocked. "Fardles...?" The girl stares at the weyrwoman.
L'yan, as always, is caught completely off his guard. Apparently his few recent 'self defense' lectures have come in with a bit of good, as he actually starts to raise his arms in defense this time. He's too slow though, and that fist pops him right in the chin. Since his chair is still right behind him, he stumbles into it as he moves back in reaction to the blow and he finds himself sitting down again. He rubs gingerly at the spot and stares at Winter as if she's gone mad. "Ma'am?" he says incredulously.
Sinet turns at Sl'ren's words and looks over in time to see the Weyrlady slug the Weyrlingmaster. He smirks, "Probably got drunk on her wine."
K'rien opens his mouth to say something before he just blinks off in the distance towards Winter and L'yan, spotting the action in one of his scans of the cavern. "Did I just see what I think I saw?" He mutters to the people around him.
"Shards!" Sh'drian abruptly marvels at Winter and L'yan, attention tugged away from Tirya. "It's far more amusing when she's hitting someone else. L'yan should've done better defending himself than that, though. I thought I taught him better." He pauses to watch the spectacle before forcing his eyes back to the goldrider beside him. "I wouldn't do that to you again. I mean, maybe we could toddle out together, but I wouldn't carry you. I'm not going to be sober enough for that much longer myself. If you get too drunk, though, I'm sure we can find a place for you to stay overnight. It'll be really late back at Southern already, anyway," he notes earnestly. He pauses to contemplate her latter question, however. "I... am as happy here as I was at Southern," Sh'drian finally hedges.
Kelara looks up at the commotion. "Shards! Umm, maybe I shouldn't stay here."
Margan chuckles softly peers into his klah. "Ahh, it might have been when you lot ahd first arrived, but now, it has gotten old," he notes. "As have I in a weyr with so many young folk," he says with a wistful sigh and then a renewed grin. "But then again, with youth comes beauty and the likes of you bring fresh vigor to such places as these," he tells the bluerider smoothly.
"Hmmm?" D'ven queries as his companion breaks off. "Ah." He murmurs as the nudge directes his attention to the right place. "Just what we need, D'mer. Just what we need tonight." The man shakes his head.
D'mer nods his head at D'ven and frowns disapprovingly at the two high ranking riders, before he pushes his chair back and stands. "I think I need some fresh air..." he says in a voice as icy as his expression, "Care to join me back at the Barracks D'ven?" he asks, picking up his plate and mug, ready to bring them back to the serving table's return bin.
Winter doesn't seem to notice that half the living cavern is staring at her and some of the other half are betting on whether she hits him again. "Stop acting like a /child/, L'yan, you're the sharding Weyrlingmaster!" she shouts angrily. "Shut UP, Sh'drian, before I yank your guts out through your /nose/. With a SPOON!" Then, she returns her attention to L'yan. "Get up and stop acting like a moron. You're setting a poor example for your weyrlings." Taking up her bowl and glass of clear liquid, either water or vodka, and makes her way through the living cavern, chin held high as she passes Margan and Jaeni's flirt-fest.
Bele shakes her head, "this ain't normal.. I'm gonna go get someone to help." She looks at the bowl entry then grabs up her jacket to run out. "Meet me in the resident's cavern tonight!"
Jaeni rolls her eyes and informs him, "I'm not the type of vigor you want." She stares across the living cavern as Winter hits L'yan, then when the Weyrwoman passes by her, she looks clearly confused. Though she stops looking confused as she hears Sh'drian. Her expression becomes more of the blank and unreadable type. "Toddle out together?" She repeats and that apparent decision to ignore what he's been saying, breaks. "What?" There's a firm press of her lip as she looks at him and then the goldrider.
Tirya gawks at Winter's behavior and then just shakes her head. "I guess she was building pressure on the sands?" she wonders aloud. "Toddle? I wouldn't toddle anywhere with you, Sh'drian. Not anymore. We are past that time. Though, I don't see why a girl shouldn't be carried off. Maybe it is preferable now and then," she notes. "But you've reminded me. I had best leave while I am capable of doing so," she tells him with a smirk. Having said this, she pushes back from the table and wanders over to snag a meatroll to munch on before she leaves.
Sl'ren stands up with a yawn, "Well, I think i'm going to go join Isirith and get some sleep" as he gives a general wave around the cavern
"I'd love to, D'mer." D'ven replies, the use of the new names still filling him with amazement. Standing, he too gathers the remains of his food together.
Sh'drian eyes Winter, looking appropriately cowed. "That sounds sharding well painful," he mumbles under his breath. "I was just saying, anyway. He should've--shard it. Nevermind." He shakes his head and watches Winter until he's certain she's gone. Then, he can revert his attention to Tirya, taking a few more sips of wine before Jaeni's voice registers. "Hmm? Oh. Um," he falters, glancing to her and offers his attempt at a charming smile (somewhat lacking, especially compared to Margan's). "Nothing," he tells her. Quickly, he pushes his chair back and stands, however, as Tirya prepares to exit. "I can--" he begins, then stops. "At least let me walk you out?" suggests the man hesitantly. Jaeni's almost forgotten again.
K'rien just shakes his head. "Thought the leadership were supposed to be good examples." He mutters under his breath as he stands up grabbing his bubbly. "I'd better get back and help out in the barracks now that I'm done eating."
D'mer simply glowers at his dirty dishes, and then plops his dirties in with the rest before turning on his heel with a swish of long blond hair and an frozen exterior. "I'll see you back at the barracks then." he calls out to the bronzerider and then disappears
L'yan looks absolutely flabbergasted at Winter's physical, then verbal assault on him. He rubs at his jaw again and stares after her as she stalks out. He glares at a few people that continue to stare at him, then at his food. With jerky motions, he goes back to eating, downing the last few bites, then gulping down the rest of his klah. Then he abandons the table of his ignominy, and ignoring the snickers as he passes as he's grown so good at doing, he too departs from the caverns.
"I'll see you." D'ven calls out in agreement. Depositing his own clutter, he glances around one final time. Looking slightly perturbed when he fails to find the face he's seeking, the new weyrling follows his fellow.
Margan looks at Jaeni with sympathy. "No, you aren't really," he tells her, eyes following the retreating Weyrwoman as she flees the scene of her latest destruction. He chuckles softly and then shakes his head. "I don't envy you your vigor though," he tells Jaeni as his eyes now track the retreat of L'yan. "It's ashame he now bases his idea of a leader and a man on such as your...friend," he comments to Jaeni, appearing lost in thought.
Sinet smirks at L'yan's glare, watches the new weyrlings leave and turns his attention back to the fire, humming softly to himself.
Jaeni watches Sh'drian get up and then very quietly fumes as she looks down into her now empty mug. Standing up abruptly she notes to the bronzerider, finally. "Nothing is right. Nothing between us, apparently." She tilts her chin up. "It's a shame that I've wasted my time here. It was lovely talking to you, Margan. But I think it's best if I take my leave while I have some dignity remaining."
Tirya shrugs at Sh'drian carelessly. "I suppose if you want," she tells him, then turns and looks back at Jaeni, biting her lip.
Kelara gets up, collecting her cloak she starts to head out. She stops by Sinet as she saw him talking to Bele. "Excuse me, could you tell Bele I searches for a ride home instead. I don't feel to comfortable staying here."
Sinet turns to Kelara and gives her his best smile, "Of course, would be my pleasure to do so."
Margan nods and smiles. "The pleasure was mine, Jaeni. Clear skies and best of luck to you," he offers before getting up, stretching and returning from the stairs whence he came.
Some measure of what Jaeni says seeps through Sh'drian's wine-fogged mind, for he frowns in her vague direction. "I--" he begins to her. Abruptly, he redirects his words at Tirya. "I will," he tells the goldrider, taking a few wobbly steps toward the door. "I, uh... Yeah. Let's go?" fumbles the half-drunk bronzerider.
Kelara merely nods and murmurs, "Ya, of course." Glancing at the Terne's agian before she heads out.
Jaeni begins to make her exit, but before she does, she stops to look at Tirya. Her expression is apologetic, "Not you." She tells the other woman, words uttered quite low. She watches the bronzerider intently, her mouth opens to say something more but she quickly shakes her head and makes haste towards the bowl.
Tirya loosk utterly lost. "Now I do need another drink," she says, holding her head and gazing around her in a lost manner.
Sinet glances around the cavern, and shucks off his jacket. He tosses it onto the back of a nearby chair and starts helping the kitchen help - gathering empty dishes and glasses and moving them to the kitchen.
Sh'drian frowns at Jaeni's back, but seems to be having trouble putting together anything to say to her, unsurprisingly. With a sigh, he grabs up the half-filled wine bottle from the table and turns to Tirya. "I do, too. We can always split the rest of this before you go, I suppose," he tells her apologetically.
Tirya nods and heads back to the table, flopping back down with a huff of frustration. "Why can't my life ever seem to go right?" she asks the nearest person in a drunken manner.
Sh'drian takes his seat back, nodding glumly to Tirya. "Yeah, I know. I mean, I finally get you to talk to me again, and now Jae's mad at me. Faranth alone knows why," he slurs. "But, well. At least I do have you now." He offers a genuine smile to the goldrider beside him.
"Competition," she notes. "She sees me as something blocking her from your eyes," the woman mumbles and shrugs. "You never have been good at focusing your interests or affections on one at a time, have you? I thought I heard rumors that you and Jaeni were rather serious," she continues.
Sh'drian hesitates, eyes flicking to the table as he takes the opportunity to gulp down some of the wine. "Guess not. I ruined what we had, and I've nearly ruined what Jaeni and I... have several times before. I mean, I wouldn't say we're /that/ serious, but..." He hesitates. "I like her, but you... I..." He doesn't bother finishing that, just shakes his head. "Nevermind."
Tirya looks down at the table. "I won't be the one to let you ruin it, Sh'drian," she says, her sudden mood change having sobered her up somewhat. "Someday you should know what it feels like to be happy with someone. It...changes you inside," she continues. "I, you, yeah. Nothing more to say about that, is there?" she mutters.
"Guess not," Sh'drian mumbles in response, shaking his head. "It's, uh, getting late. I should probably be getting to sleep before--well, I have early drills tomorrow." He pauses, fiddling with the wine bottle and not looking at Tirya. "I don't want you going home like this." He falters, then explains, "Drunk, I mean. I'd rather not let you go /between/. It's not--it's not safe." A flush creeps its way back up his neck at that admission.
"You should go after Jaeni," Tirya notes softly. "Don't worry about me. I'm a big girl. I buckle my own straps and everything," she tells him, rising once more and strolling off a bit. "I can always stay at a guest weyr, if one is free on such a day as this," she notes.
Sh'drian hesitates. "I'm sure... I'm sure she's gone and found someone else," he replies dully. "K'tag, most likely. They--" He doesn't finish. "There's always room for you," he tells Tirya. "You could, I don't know, stay in a guest weyr or one of the empty ones, though they're not always in good condition. Or, ah..." He fumbles before noting, "You could take my bed, if you want. ... I still have your quilt. The one you gave me, I mean. And I could sleep on the couch. Or the floor. Or somewhere." Pause. His look is almost hopeful as he cuts his eyes up to the goldrider.
Tirya shakes her head, desperately trying to clear it. "And I suppose you'll stay on the floor and I in the bed...alone?" she mumbles, rubbing her temples. "You know I love my weyrmate. And yet, you know I want you. Little secret to that," she states bluntly, for the love of the truth serum that wine is. "I don't want to mess up," she mumbles. "But fine, lead on. I'll take this chance once more," she offers him a smile.
Sh'drian's smile is wan and pale compared to his usual ones, but at least it's there. Wobbling to his feet, he nods and offers her an arm to take or refuse as she likes before he starts shakily toward the bowl.
Tirya eyes him warily and then shurgs, taking his arm and indeed, toddling out with him.