Lieryth flies!
The Sandbar, Ista Weyr(#447RJ)
The dockside tavern is bathed in the light of the setting sun, creating a beautiful panoramic vista for the patrons. The Sandbar stands on stilts over the water's edge, a broad ramp leading up from the beach to the slate-roofed building sitting well above the highest tide line. The walls of the structure are nothing but timber frames, open to the cooling sea breezes but equipped with hinged panels of woven grass that can be lowered during inclement weather. Within, supporting pillars are draped in cast-off nets and shells and myriad tables provide seating with spectacular panoramic views of the ocean, beach, and the bustling activity of the docks to the west. The tables and chairs are made of wood, which has been dyed as dark as possible.
A finely polished, sparkling slab of obsidian serves as the bar's surface and a series of carved shelves, also made of the sleek volcanic stone, are behind the bar. A chalkboard hangs to the right of it which usually has the day's specials written on it, though it's often used to record bets instead. A games area and kitchen are to the back of the Sandbar.
The wet autumn season oppresses the island with high humidity and sweltering temperatures. As the sun sets, a gray blanket of clouds dominates the sky and a nice, light breeze carries the scent of sea air.
Contents:
Niala
Daily Specials(#484$)
Lieryth> Corrals, Ista Weyr
Lieryth> Roughly a quarter of the western end of the bowl is enclosed by sturdy wooden fencing to contain the weyr's herd. With the sun setting, the waning angle of light throws a long shadow from each beast still lingering outside. The large metal doors of the stable are set into the bowl wall, open currently as the livestock is moved inside for the oncoming night. Long and deep, four stone troughs occupy the area immediately in front of the stable and are kept filled with cool, clear water. A plateau spreads out to the north, where grass has overtaken the sprawling plain. Well-worn tracks lead back east toward the heavily trafficked bowl
Lieryth> Contents:
Lieryth> Jekzith
Lieryth> Mikhuth
Lieryth> Lieryth sits at the edge of the corrals, seemingly pensive despite her shinier-than-usual hide. The gold dragon merely watches the herdbeasts without moving, even as her red/purple eyes gradually sink deeper and deeper in hue.
Fayre is sitting rather dejectedly at the sleek black barcounter, her short legs dangling off the edge of her barstool. Her usual, semi-normal outfit has been abandoned in favour if a dress made up of a gaudy mix of colours and bright ribbons, though Fayre herself doesn't seem too happy about this even though she presumably dressed herself. A glass containing--gasp! Only water!--sits in front of the weyrwoman.
An'dren arrives from the main beach.
An'dren has arrived.
Niala is dirty and grimy, as per usual. She's also wearing her typical drab, boring, though functional clothing. She heads over toward the bar without even noticing Fayre and orders a greenrider. "Thanks," she murmers to the barkeep as she sits, tired, near Fayre. "Oh Fayre, I didn't notice you sitting there." Though how you could miss the clothes is a complete mystery. She gives the goldrider a questioning look. "Are you alright, you seem...off?"
Lieryth> Mikhuth is a shape slinking over from the Bowl; low to the ground, muzzle swinging this way and that as though hunting out a scent. As it is, he keeps his distance, though the bronze does lift his head sharply at a low from one of the headbeasts. Lieryth? She's noted, though perhaps not quite so obviously, and presently the ink-curled dragon simply stations himself nearby and... waits, though every so often he fans his wings wide or rakes his talons along the soil in a great, long feline stretch.
Lieryth> Jekzith landed on the plateau not that long ago, riderless and strapless and had been watching the to and fro of firelizards and avians along the falls when something about Lieryth's contemplation, the shade of her hide draws his attention and himself, like a magnet over towards where she sits near the corrals. Settling down on his haunches, the brown sends a sidelong look her way then gives his wings an experimental stretch before relaxing again. Well. Mostly. There's a line of tension along his spine that speaks of anticipation.
P'draig arrives from the main beach.
P'draig has arrived.
D'kai arrives from the main beach.
D'kai has arrived.
An'dren strides into the Sandbar and towards Fayre without so much as a hint of hesitation, drawn by the siren call of those gaudy colors and ribbons. "Fayre," he greets, and in the end, it's not her outfit but rather her drink that earns her a surprised glance. "Is that...?" he begins, but then abandons the thought to look at Niala instead, just now noticing there's someone else at the bar. "Oh, hi. Sorry. Am I intruding?" Not that he's inclined to leave even if he is.
Fayre doesn't move when Niala arrives, nor does she even notice the stablehand order her drink. Only when she addresses her does the weyrwoman start a bit. Recovering from her momentary surprise, the weyrwoman forces on a smile. "Oh. Yes. I'm fine." The rider answers curtly and, as if she can't hold onto that smile for much longer, hides her mouth behind her glass as she takes a sip of her water. She eyes An'dren now and questions, "Is what what?"
Lieryth> Riuth arrives from the plateau.
Lieryth> Riuth has arrived.
Lieryth> Lieryth's body does not budge, but her gaze does. The gold twists her head the slightest bit to observe the two new arrivals, her eyes blinking slowly as she examines them both in painful detail.
"No, you're not intruding at all An'dren. Please join us." Niala looks over to the seemingly grumpy Fayre. "Or rather, you can join me. I just got off duty so I'm sorry about the dust." She seems a little taken aback by Fayre's curtness, but just shrugs her shoulders; everyone has off days now and again. "So, how are you An'dren? Well, I hope?" She takes a sip of her drink and smiles at the bronzerider.
Pausing to knock sand off of his sandals, P'draig, hair still damp from a swim, a towel slung around his neck, pads into the Sandbar, shirt-tails of an only partly buttoned shirt a-flapping. His path inward is fairly straightforward: up to the bar to ask for a drink, a friendly grin offered to Kip, the order, maybe predictable: "Feisty Girl, please." It's while he's rummaging for marks in his pocket that his gray-blue gaze comes to rest on Fayre and his brows hike upward. A moment later though he draws a long breath, head tilted to the side as if listening, just nods once and sits down at the bar to wait for his drink.
Dragon> To Mikhuth and Jekzith, Lieryth's voice is a match waiting to explode into something more; a subdued, persistent heat that is growing in baby steps. <>
Lieryth> Idraila arrives from the northwest bowl.
Lieryth> Idraila has arrived.
Lieryth> Ormoth has arrived.
Lieryth> Idraila dropped Ormoth.
Lieryth> Idraila heads toward the bowl.
Lieryth> Idraila has left.
Lieryth> Jekzith peeeers over the edge of the fence eyeing the beasts within and cocks his head Lieryth's way, eyes whirling a happy aqua still, only the faintest traces of pale violet edging inward. His own mindvoice in answer to Lieryth is light and bubbly almost, awash with fire-bright colors tipped with blue and green and through them the iridescent wash of actual bubbles carrying each thought. << Well see if you watch them long enough and then kind of jump, then they jump too, >> Jekzith points out with just a hint of playfulness. << Though they do make mighty fine eating too. >>
D'kai is, well, hot. The warmth and humidity once familiar to him now has him stripping off his coat and slinging it over his shoulder as he enters the Sandbar, though a bit tentatively for all his unfamiliarity with the weyr. It's a quick look around that has a sudden smile spreading across his feature, and with one, two, a few quick steps he's slipping into a chair near Paddy, leaning close with a low chuckle. "Hey, former Weyrlingmaster." And though he may rub his hands together, glance over his shoulder once, for the most part the lad seems wholly unperturbed.
Idraila arrives from the main beach.
Idraila has arrived.
An'dren seems to have lost track of his own question, as the goldrider's has him blinking in vague incomprehension. "Nothing," he replies finally, and waves a dismissive hand. "S'nothing. You look...bright today." Because, y'know. Someone's got to state the obvious. Then his attention shifts back to Niala beside Fayre, and he grins at her apology, waving that, too, away. "Don't worry about it. I've seen worse. Been worse, actually, so. I'm fine, yeah. And you...?" There's a pause as he flails for her name, and eventually he wonders, "Do I know you? You seem to know me."
Dragon> To Jekzith and Lieryth, Mikhuth's response is a low, thoughful murmur of voices and a patter of bare feet upon soil and clatter of pots and pans against each other. << Men' t'be meat, aren't they? Not much else 'r good fer. >> Such as entertaining gold dragons and such, wasn't it?
Fayre stares down at her half-empty glass of water, moving the mug around slowly and watching the water swirl. "Yes. I am bright today," is her simple response to An'dren's declaration. "Lieryth picked my outfit today. So. Yeah." The weyrwoman lets out a long, drawn out sigh after her curt explanation. An equally long sip of her water is taken, though not much actual liquid disappears from her glass. "I don't feel like myself. So. I don't know."
P'draig looks up as D'kai joins him and casts the young bronzerider a warm grin. "D'kai! Hey, good to see you. How's things at Fort?" he asks just as his drink is set down on the bar. The brownrider's hand moves to curl around the glass and he eyes the Fortian sidelong. "And Mikhuth? Is he down here on the beach?" Asked almost too casually as Paddy looks over his shoulder towards the sand and then shoots Fayre a covert glance.
Niala grins at An'dren, just a little uncomfortable. "I'm Niala, the stablehand that moved here from Keroon. I don't think we've talked directly in a while." She shrugs and looks away. Fortunately, new people come into the bar. She waves to P'draig and gives D'kai a questioning look, but opts to not say anything and concentrates on her drink for the moment.
Just another rider jonesing for a hard drink, old T'irn slaps his way into the bar, shoving the door aside and plunking his riding gloves down on the section of the bar he claims for himself. "Just rum," he directs the bartender, lifting his near-ancient bones onto the seat of a stool. "No ice." The questionable glance he gets is merely met with the clunk of mark meeting bartop and then the bartender scurries off obediently.
Lieryth> Lieryth begins to slowly clack her talons against the hard dirt ground as her frustration with the herdbeasts grows. <> The gold pauses and her voice becomes hotter, like a Baker's oven. <> Her questions comes out more like an accusation and her eyes shift to a dark crimson. <> She stops her tapping of claws, frustrated by her own poor phrasing.
Andy nods along as Fayre speaks, laughing a little at that drawn-out sigh. "It looks nice," he tells her. "You look nice. Nothing wrong with dressing up sometimes, yeah?" He props an elbow up on the counter and leans against the bar -- careful to give Fayre her room, and yet still standing close by. "Niala," he repeats, and offers the stablehand a smile. "Sorry, I've a terrible memory for names. It's nice to meet you. Again, I guess."
"You too! Ista's treating you fine, I hope? Fort's faring well enough, though I bet the coming weyrling's'll miss you. You knew Zibeth went up, right?" It's friendly talk, and D'kai's smile is quick in response, bright and cheery enough though there's a flicker of uncertainty at the question. "Mickey's - around, yeah." Teeth catch at his lower lip; Deke once again brushes his palms together and finally, for lack of anywhere else to put them, flattens them under the bartop, drumming his fingers against it from below. Niala recieves a jerk of his chin in greeting, as well as another of those wide grins.
Lieryth> Riuth's been watching the corrals from someone else's ledge, and now he glides down, landing lightly just inside the fence and tucking his wings to his back. Lieryth he knows; they grew up together, as it were. Jekzith? Vaguely familiar, but definitely now Istan, and therefore of little interest. He casts an eye over the two, then focuses on the former, head twisting around to watch her. << Lieryth, >> he greets, much as Andy had greeted Fayre. << Is he bothering you? >> And yeah, he does make it loud enough that Jekzith can hear it, too, because if there's anything Riuth definitely is, it's protective of his clutchsibs.
Fayre grimaces and looks down at her outfit, her eyes actually narrowing thanks to the brightness of the colours making it up. "No. Nothing wrong with dressing up. Just something wrong with dressing up...like this." Her eyebrows furrow and she drains the last of her boring glass of water. "Well. I think it will be starting soon." As if flight is a bad word, Fayre avoids it all together. She pushes her mug towards the barkeep, though she doesn't bother to meet his eye or nod her thanks. Instead, she just gets to her feet. "Some of you must be involved with it too. Let's go to the guest weyr, then." Another mournful sigh.
Lieryth> Jekzith seems calm and relaxed still, really. Except that the tip of his tail is twitching and his head is up, keeping a close watch on Lieryth as she poses her questions. << Maybe these ones don't, but some of them pull things. >> And he thinks of wagons on roads and plows in fields, everything brightly colored like a small child drew these mental pictures in his mind, each one floated Lieryth's way within the translucent sphere of a single bubble. << Of course, you could also say that being food for feeding hungry dragons is a kind of work, >> he muses after a moment, seemingly quite caught up in the idea. Riuth's approach gets a friendly greeting in spite of that protective note in the young bronze's voice. << Hello there Riuth! We're talking about what herdbeasts are for and whether they do work or not. >>
Niala looks around the bar, suddenly shy and uneasy. Something's up, and it doesn't look like she has any idea what's going on. She mutters into her drink before turning to An'dren with a strained smile. "That's alright, I'm pretty bad with names myself, but I'm great with faces..." She trails off as Fayre gets up to leave and her face lights up with new understanding. Cheeks redden as she turns back to her drink, eyes carefully avoiding everyone in the bar.
Seliene arrives from the main beach.
Seliene has arrived.
"Yep, it is," P'draig says with a laugh. "All settled in, happy Paddy, happy Mic and Palia likes the beach every day. Only drawback is missing Paige," he confesses with a sheepish little grin, "that and I'm not used to the heat yet." The former Weyrlingmaster eyes D'kai's drumming fingers and clears his throat, leans in close, words spoken in an undertone not meant to carry beyond the bronzerider. "Remember what I told you about flights, D'kai? If you're not wanting Mikhuth up there, might want to try talking him into going now, otherwise, I've a feeling he might get caught up in one and just -- try to remember those lessons, eh?" Then his hand is moving to give the Fortian a friendly clap to the shoulder. "Let me get you a drink?"
Being a barfly, you learn to pick up on things. Eavesdropping does T'irn a world of good in this instance, as he picks up a key element of a certain weyrwoman's conversation. Wordlessly, if not effortlessly, he lifts from his seat and leaves his appropriately-sized mark on the bar, slipping away with rum in one hand, gloves in the other. The goldriders each get a nod as they pass, joined with his sharp smile. "Weyrwoman," for Fayre, and then he corrects with a glance at Niala, "women. How are you tonight?" Not that he expects or waits on a response. Word no doubt sent to Ormoth, he continues to linger behind as riders file away, turning to leave with them only when he's pulling up the rear of the pack.
Lieryth> Mikhuth turns this all over, apparently in thought, with a tip and tilt of his head; watching the herdbeasts, now, instead of Lieryth, although Riuth's presence and words earn a rumble deep and low back in the inky bronze's throat, and a swish-swish of his long tail. << Poor kinda work, innit, then? >> There's the laughter of many in Mickey's mindvoice, of men about a campfire and others in the darkness behind it, and that's directed towards Jekzith, though just as open to the others.
Andy pushes off from the bar as Fayre stands, and his smile wavers a little at her mournful sigh. He's not stupid enough to ask any more questions, though, and so he just turns to Niala and murmurs, "Sorry," before going to stand at the weyrwoman's elbow, waiting for her to leave. Like dragon, like rider, and there's something protective in the way he looms over Fayre. Yeah, he's not the tallest guy in the 'bar, but that's not to keep him from trying. T'irn gets something of a Look, and then the young bronzerider's edging closer to the goldrider.
Lieryth> Lieryth does perk up some at the arrival of a familiar dragon, though the only hint is her tail which slowly begins to move back and forth, stirring up some dust behind her. <> She answers her clutch sibling ambiguously, not truly answering if Jekzith is. <> Again she seems displeased with her lacklustre word choice and the gold snorts. <>
Lieryth> Ormoth's wings may stir up some sound as he descends on the Weyr's herd, but once settled on that low ledge he's chosen, he's as silent as the hulking bronze statue he resembles. Like a gargoyle on a turret, he watches without so much as twitching. Bare confidence oozes from him without a word shared with the other bronzes; his words he saves for the gold herself, a simple <>
D'kai nods distant understanding, echoing that one word, "Paige," with a sort of remote interest to it. Right. Her. "Well, that's all wonderful, isn't it? Good to hear, good to hear." The draw of P'draig's gaze to his hands has the young rider clasping them, almost sheepishly, in his lap, with a tilt of his head and a pursing of his lips for his once-Weyrlingmaster's words. "Yeah. I think - well, we'll see how it goes, eh?" He starts a little at the clap on his shoulder, but his focus isn't on the brownrider but Fayre beyond him, and as much as it might seem Deke would like that drink he just sort of shakes his head. "I think we might be, ah, moving on right away here."
Yep, akward. Niala surrounded by a proddy goldrider and a bunch of men, and one of them's talking to her. Cheeks redden even further as answers T'irn, eyes fixed on her drink. "I'm fine thanks. Was just coming in for a nice, relaxing drink. Looks like I picked the wrong day at the wrong time though." After a fortifying sip of her drink, she relaxes a little. After all, everyone's concentrating on Fayre, so if she stays really quiet, maybe they'll all go away. She does scoot farther away from Fayre as other riders start to inch closer and invade her personal space.
Ch'val has arrived.
Lieryth> Riuth's unprepared for Jekzith's continued friendliness, and he looks at him with some uncertainty before discarding him as a threat. Instead, now it's Ormoth and Mikhuth he stares at, long and hard, and he keeps himself drawn up tall, like he's trying somehow to dwarf the two bronzes nearby. << Herdbeasts? >> he wonders, and it echoes in his mind, thrown back and forth by hundreds of voices there beneath his own. << I don't believe they earn their keep, no, but that makes them no less necessary. >>
Oh hey look, exodus. P'draig's hand tightens around his glass and he lifts it, knocks back the contents in one fell swoop. "Yeah, life's good," the brownrider tells D'kai and his gaze slides along back to Fayre, going intent for a bit. "Or not," he tells D'kai with a loose grin, "Yep, best follow where the lady leads," Paddy tells his former charge as he slips from his stool. "See how it goes," he echoes and tilts his head in the proper direction. "Stick close, no sense getting lost on the way like I did the first time he chased here."
Fayre flicks her wrist, making a come hither motion as she heads towards the Sandbar's exit. "Feel free to bring your drinks, fellows. We might all need them." Some odd sense of playfulness has invaded the weyrwoman's unhappy mood, and there's just a bit of a bounce to her step now. "At least the wait is over and we can get it done." To T'irn, "Not sure how I am yet. Depends what happens in the next hour or so." Then she's slipping out the exit, leading the men towards the guest weyr.
Lieryth> Jekzith tilts his head again as Lieryth continues to ponder the herd. << I wonder what a herd of tubers would look like. >> And then he imagines it, hordes of tubers lined up in the grass, large as herdbeasts, but colored in kaleidoscope hues, some still with skins, closed up, others split and steaming, with butter melting down their sides. << Our riders might like that a whole lot better than muddy herdbeasts wandering around. >> And he seems to find this amusing even as his bubbles flare brightly, answering laughter for Mikhuth's group.
The dockside tavern is bathed in the light of the setting sun, creating a beautiful panoramic vista for the patrons. The Sandbar stands on stilts over the water's edge, a broad ramp leading up from the beach to the slate-roofed building sitting well above the highest tide line. The walls of the structure are nothing but timber frames, open to the cooling sea breezes but equipped with hinged panels of woven grass that can be lowered during inclement weather. Within, supporting pillars are draped in cast-off nets and shells and myriad tables provide seating with spectacular panoramic views of the ocean, beach, and the bustling activity of the docks to the west. The tables and chairs are made of wood, which has been dyed as dark as possible.
A finely polished, sparkling slab of obsidian serves as the bar's surface and a series of carved shelves, also made of the sleek volcanic stone, are behind the bar. A chalkboard hangs to the right of it which usually has the day's specials written on it, though it's often used to record bets instead. A games area and kitchen are to the back of the Sandbar.
The wet autumn season oppresses the island with high humidity and sweltering temperatures. As the sun sets, a gray blanket of clouds dominates the sky and a nice, light breeze carries the scent of sea air.
Contents:
Niala
Daily Specials(#484$)
Lieryth> Corrals, Ista Weyr
Lieryth> Roughly a quarter of the western end of the bowl is enclosed by sturdy wooden fencing to contain the weyr's herd. With the sun setting, the waning angle of light throws a long shadow from each beast still lingering outside. The large metal doors of the stable are set into the bowl wall, open currently as the livestock is moved inside for the oncoming night. Long and deep, four stone troughs occupy the area immediately in front of the stable and are kept filled with cool, clear water. A plateau spreads out to the north, where grass has overtaken the sprawling plain. Well-worn tracks lead back east toward the heavily trafficked bowl
Lieryth> Contents:
Lieryth> Jekzith
Lieryth> Mikhuth
Lieryth> Lieryth sits at the edge of the corrals, seemingly pensive despite her shinier-than-usual hide. The gold dragon merely watches the herdbeasts without moving, even as her red/purple eyes gradually sink deeper and deeper in hue.
Fayre is sitting rather dejectedly at the sleek black barcounter, her short legs dangling off the edge of her barstool. Her usual, semi-normal outfit has been abandoned in favour if a dress made up of a gaudy mix of colours and bright ribbons, though Fayre herself doesn't seem too happy about this even though she presumably dressed herself. A glass containing--gasp! Only water!--sits in front of the weyrwoman.
An'dren arrives from the main beach.
An'dren has arrived.
Niala is dirty and grimy, as per usual. She's also wearing her typical drab, boring, though functional clothing. She heads over toward the bar without even noticing Fayre and orders a greenrider. "Thanks," she murmers to the barkeep as she sits, tired, near Fayre. "Oh Fayre, I didn't notice you sitting there." Though how you could miss the clothes is a complete mystery. She gives the goldrider a questioning look. "Are you alright, you seem...off?"
Lieryth> Mikhuth is a shape slinking over from the Bowl; low to the ground, muzzle swinging this way and that as though hunting out a scent. As it is, he keeps his distance, though the bronze does lift his head sharply at a low from one of the headbeasts. Lieryth? She's noted, though perhaps not quite so obviously, and presently the ink-curled dragon simply stations himself nearby and... waits, though every so often he fans his wings wide or rakes his talons along the soil in a great, long feline stretch.
Lieryth> Jekzith landed on the plateau not that long ago, riderless and strapless and had been watching the to and fro of firelizards and avians along the falls when something about Lieryth's contemplation, the shade of her hide draws his attention and himself, like a magnet over towards where she sits near the corrals. Settling down on his haunches, the brown sends a sidelong look her way then gives his wings an experimental stretch before relaxing again. Well. Mostly. There's a line of tension along his spine that speaks of anticipation.
P'draig arrives from the main beach.
P'draig has arrived.
D'kai arrives from the main beach.
D'kai has arrived.
An'dren strides into the Sandbar and towards Fayre without so much as a hint of hesitation, drawn by the siren call of those gaudy colors and ribbons. "Fayre," he greets, and in the end, it's not her outfit but rather her drink that earns her a surprised glance. "Is that...?" he begins, but then abandons the thought to look at Niala instead, just now noticing there's someone else at the bar. "Oh, hi. Sorry. Am I intruding?" Not that he's inclined to leave even if he is.
Fayre doesn't move when Niala arrives, nor does she even notice the stablehand order her drink. Only when she addresses her does the weyrwoman start a bit. Recovering from her momentary surprise, the weyrwoman forces on a smile. "Oh. Yes. I'm fine." The rider answers curtly and, as if she can't hold onto that smile for much longer, hides her mouth behind her glass as she takes a sip of her water. She eyes An'dren now and questions, "Is what what?"
Lieryth> Riuth arrives from the plateau.
Lieryth> Riuth has arrived.
Lieryth> Lieryth's body does not budge, but her gaze does. The gold twists her head the slightest bit to observe the two new arrivals, her eyes blinking slowly as she examines them both in painful detail.
"No, you're not intruding at all An'dren. Please join us." Niala looks over to the seemingly grumpy Fayre. "Or rather, you can join me. I just got off duty so I'm sorry about the dust." She seems a little taken aback by Fayre's curtness, but just shrugs her shoulders; everyone has off days now and again. "So, how are you An'dren? Well, I hope?" She takes a sip of her drink and smiles at the bronzerider.
Pausing to knock sand off of his sandals, P'draig, hair still damp from a swim, a towel slung around his neck, pads into the Sandbar, shirt-tails of an only partly buttoned shirt a-flapping. His path inward is fairly straightforward: up to the bar to ask for a drink, a friendly grin offered to Kip, the order, maybe predictable: "Feisty Girl, please." It's while he's rummaging for marks in his pocket that his gray-blue gaze comes to rest on Fayre and his brows hike upward. A moment later though he draws a long breath, head tilted to the side as if listening, just nods once and sits down at the bar to wait for his drink.
Dragon> To Mikhuth and Jekzith, Lieryth's voice is a match waiting to explode into something more; a subdued, persistent heat that is growing in baby steps. <>
Lieryth> Idraila arrives from the northwest bowl.
Lieryth> Idraila has arrived.
Lieryth> Ormoth has arrived.
Lieryth> Idraila dropped Ormoth.
Lieryth> Idraila heads toward the bowl.
Lieryth> Idraila has left.
Lieryth> Jekzith peeeers over the edge of the fence eyeing the beasts within and cocks his head Lieryth's way, eyes whirling a happy aqua still, only the faintest traces of pale violet edging inward. His own mindvoice in answer to Lieryth is light and bubbly almost, awash with fire-bright colors tipped with blue and green and through them the iridescent wash of actual bubbles carrying each thought. << Well see if you watch them long enough and then kind of jump, then they jump too, >> Jekzith points out with just a hint of playfulness. << Though they do make mighty fine eating too. >>
D'kai is, well, hot. The warmth and humidity once familiar to him now has him stripping off his coat and slinging it over his shoulder as he enters the Sandbar, though a bit tentatively for all his unfamiliarity with the weyr. It's a quick look around that has a sudden smile spreading across his feature, and with one, two, a few quick steps he's slipping into a chair near Paddy, leaning close with a low chuckle. "Hey, former Weyrlingmaster." And though he may rub his hands together, glance over his shoulder once, for the most part the lad seems wholly unperturbed.
Idraila arrives from the main beach.
Idraila has arrived.
An'dren seems to have lost track of his own question, as the goldrider's has him blinking in vague incomprehension. "Nothing," he replies finally, and waves a dismissive hand. "S'nothing. You look...bright today." Because, y'know. Someone's got to state the obvious. Then his attention shifts back to Niala beside Fayre, and he grins at her apology, waving that, too, away. "Don't worry about it. I've seen worse. Been worse, actually, so. I'm fine, yeah. And you...?" There's a pause as he flails for her name, and eventually he wonders, "Do I know you? You seem to know me."
Dragon> To Jekzith and Lieryth, Mikhuth's response is a low, thoughful murmur of voices and a patter of bare feet upon soil and clatter of pots and pans against each other. << Men' t'be meat, aren't they? Not much else 'r good fer. >> Such as entertaining gold dragons and such, wasn't it?
Fayre stares down at her half-empty glass of water, moving the mug around slowly and watching the water swirl. "Yes. I am bright today," is her simple response to An'dren's declaration. "Lieryth picked my outfit today. So. Yeah." The weyrwoman lets out a long, drawn out sigh after her curt explanation. An equally long sip of her water is taken, though not much actual liquid disappears from her glass. "I don't feel like myself. So. I don't know."
P'draig looks up as D'kai joins him and casts the young bronzerider a warm grin. "D'kai! Hey, good to see you. How's things at Fort?" he asks just as his drink is set down on the bar. The brownrider's hand moves to curl around the glass and he eyes the Fortian sidelong. "And Mikhuth? Is he down here on the beach?" Asked almost too casually as Paddy looks over his shoulder towards the sand and then shoots Fayre a covert glance.
Niala grins at An'dren, just a little uncomfortable. "I'm Niala, the stablehand that moved here from Keroon. I don't think we've talked directly in a while." She shrugs and looks away. Fortunately, new people come into the bar. She waves to P'draig and gives D'kai a questioning look, but opts to not say anything and concentrates on her drink for the moment.
Just another rider jonesing for a hard drink, old T'irn slaps his way into the bar, shoving the door aside and plunking his riding gloves down on the section of the bar he claims for himself. "Just rum," he directs the bartender, lifting his near-ancient bones onto the seat of a stool. "No ice." The questionable glance he gets is merely met with the clunk of mark meeting bartop and then the bartender scurries off obediently.
Lieryth> Lieryth begins to slowly clack her talons against the hard dirt ground as her frustration with the herdbeasts grows. <> The gold pauses and her voice becomes hotter, like a Baker's oven. <> Her questions comes out more like an accusation and her eyes shift to a dark crimson. <> She stops her tapping of claws, frustrated by her own poor phrasing.
Andy nods along as Fayre speaks, laughing a little at that drawn-out sigh. "It looks nice," he tells her. "You look nice. Nothing wrong with dressing up sometimes, yeah?" He props an elbow up on the counter and leans against the bar -- careful to give Fayre her room, and yet still standing close by. "Niala," he repeats, and offers the stablehand a smile. "Sorry, I've a terrible memory for names. It's nice to meet you. Again, I guess."
"You too! Ista's treating you fine, I hope? Fort's faring well enough, though I bet the coming weyrling's'll miss you. You knew Zibeth went up, right?" It's friendly talk, and D'kai's smile is quick in response, bright and cheery enough though there's a flicker of uncertainty at the question. "Mickey's - around, yeah." Teeth catch at his lower lip; Deke once again brushes his palms together and finally, for lack of anywhere else to put them, flattens them under the bartop, drumming his fingers against it from below. Niala recieves a jerk of his chin in greeting, as well as another of those wide grins.
Lieryth> Riuth's been watching the corrals from someone else's ledge, and now he glides down, landing lightly just inside the fence and tucking his wings to his back. Lieryth he knows; they grew up together, as it were. Jekzith? Vaguely familiar, but definitely now Istan, and therefore of little interest. He casts an eye over the two, then focuses on the former, head twisting around to watch her. << Lieryth, >> he greets, much as Andy had greeted Fayre. << Is he bothering you? >> And yeah, he does make it loud enough that Jekzith can hear it, too, because if there's anything Riuth definitely is, it's protective of his clutchsibs.
Fayre grimaces and looks down at her outfit, her eyes actually narrowing thanks to the brightness of the colours making it up. "No. Nothing wrong with dressing up. Just something wrong with dressing up...like this." Her eyebrows furrow and she drains the last of her boring glass of water. "Well. I think it will be starting soon." As if flight is a bad word, Fayre avoids it all together. She pushes her mug towards the barkeep, though she doesn't bother to meet his eye or nod her thanks. Instead, she just gets to her feet. "Some of you must be involved with it too. Let's go to the guest weyr, then." Another mournful sigh.
Lieryth> Jekzith seems calm and relaxed still, really. Except that the tip of his tail is twitching and his head is up, keeping a close watch on Lieryth as she poses her questions. << Maybe these ones don't, but some of them pull things. >> And he thinks of wagons on roads and plows in fields, everything brightly colored like a small child drew these mental pictures in his mind, each one floated Lieryth's way within the translucent sphere of a single bubble. << Of course, you could also say that being food for feeding hungry dragons is a kind of work, >> he muses after a moment, seemingly quite caught up in the idea. Riuth's approach gets a friendly greeting in spite of that protective note in the young bronze's voice. << Hello there Riuth! We're talking about what herdbeasts are for and whether they do work or not. >>
Niala looks around the bar, suddenly shy and uneasy. Something's up, and it doesn't look like she has any idea what's going on. She mutters into her drink before turning to An'dren with a strained smile. "That's alright, I'm pretty bad with names myself, but I'm great with faces..." She trails off as Fayre gets up to leave and her face lights up with new understanding. Cheeks redden as she turns back to her drink, eyes carefully avoiding everyone in the bar.
Seliene arrives from the main beach.
Seliene has arrived.
"Yep, it is," P'draig says with a laugh. "All settled in, happy Paddy, happy Mic and Palia likes the beach every day. Only drawback is missing Paige," he confesses with a sheepish little grin, "that and I'm not used to the heat yet." The former Weyrlingmaster eyes D'kai's drumming fingers and clears his throat, leans in close, words spoken in an undertone not meant to carry beyond the bronzerider. "Remember what I told you about flights, D'kai? If you're not wanting Mikhuth up there, might want to try talking him into going now, otherwise, I've a feeling he might get caught up in one and just -- try to remember those lessons, eh?" Then his hand is moving to give the Fortian a friendly clap to the shoulder. "Let me get you a drink?"
Being a barfly, you learn to pick up on things. Eavesdropping does T'irn a world of good in this instance, as he picks up a key element of a certain weyrwoman's conversation. Wordlessly, if not effortlessly, he lifts from his seat and leaves his appropriately-sized mark on the bar, slipping away with rum in one hand, gloves in the other. The goldriders each get a nod as they pass, joined with his sharp smile. "Weyrwoman," for Fayre, and then he corrects with a glance at Niala, "women. How are you tonight?" Not that he expects or waits on a response. Word no doubt sent to Ormoth, he continues to linger behind as riders file away, turning to leave with them only when he's pulling up the rear of the pack.
Lieryth> Mikhuth turns this all over, apparently in thought, with a tip and tilt of his head; watching the herdbeasts, now, instead of Lieryth, although Riuth's presence and words earn a rumble deep and low back in the inky bronze's throat, and a swish-swish of his long tail. << Poor kinda work, innit, then? >> There's the laughter of many in Mickey's mindvoice, of men about a campfire and others in the darkness behind it, and that's directed towards Jekzith, though just as open to the others.
Andy pushes off from the bar as Fayre stands, and his smile wavers a little at her mournful sigh. He's not stupid enough to ask any more questions, though, and so he just turns to Niala and murmurs, "Sorry," before going to stand at the weyrwoman's elbow, waiting for her to leave. Like dragon, like rider, and there's something protective in the way he looms over Fayre. Yeah, he's not the tallest guy in the 'bar, but that's not to keep him from trying. T'irn gets something of a Look, and then the young bronzerider's edging closer to the goldrider.
Lieryth> Lieryth does perk up some at the arrival of a familiar dragon, though the only hint is her tail which slowly begins to move back and forth, stirring up some dust behind her. <> She answers her clutch sibling ambiguously, not truly answering if Jekzith is. <> Again she seems displeased with her lacklustre word choice and the gold snorts. <>
Lieryth> Ormoth's wings may stir up some sound as he descends on the Weyr's herd, but once settled on that low ledge he's chosen, he's as silent as the hulking bronze statue he resembles. Like a gargoyle on a turret, he watches without so much as twitching. Bare confidence oozes from him without a word shared with the other bronzes; his words he saves for the gold herself, a simple <>
D'kai nods distant understanding, echoing that one word, "Paige," with a sort of remote interest to it. Right. Her. "Well, that's all wonderful, isn't it? Good to hear, good to hear." The draw of P'draig's gaze to his hands has the young rider clasping them, almost sheepishly, in his lap, with a tilt of his head and a pursing of his lips for his once-Weyrlingmaster's words. "Yeah. I think - well, we'll see how it goes, eh?" He starts a little at the clap on his shoulder, but his focus isn't on the brownrider but Fayre beyond him, and as much as it might seem Deke would like that drink he just sort of shakes his head. "I think we might be, ah, moving on right away here."
Yep, akward. Niala surrounded by a proddy goldrider and a bunch of men, and one of them's talking to her. Cheeks redden even further as answers T'irn, eyes fixed on her drink. "I'm fine thanks. Was just coming in for a nice, relaxing drink. Looks like I picked the wrong day at the wrong time though." After a fortifying sip of her drink, she relaxes a little. After all, everyone's concentrating on Fayre, so if she stays really quiet, maybe they'll all go away. She does scoot farther away from Fayre as other riders start to inch closer and invade her personal space.
Ch'val has arrived.
Lieryth> Riuth's unprepared for Jekzith's continued friendliness, and he looks at him with some uncertainty before discarding him as a threat. Instead, now it's Ormoth and Mikhuth he stares at, long and hard, and he keeps himself drawn up tall, like he's trying somehow to dwarf the two bronzes nearby. << Herdbeasts? >> he wonders, and it echoes in his mind, thrown back and forth by hundreds of voices there beneath his own. << I don't believe they earn their keep, no, but that makes them no less necessary. >>
Oh hey look, exodus. P'draig's hand tightens around his glass and he lifts it, knocks back the contents in one fell swoop. "Yeah, life's good," the brownrider tells D'kai and his gaze slides along back to Fayre, going intent for a bit. "Or not," he tells D'kai with a loose grin, "Yep, best follow where the lady leads," Paddy tells his former charge as he slips from his stool. "See how it goes," he echoes and tilts his head in the proper direction. "Stick close, no sense getting lost on the way like I did the first time he chased here."
Fayre flicks her wrist, making a come hither motion as she heads towards the Sandbar's exit. "Feel free to bring your drinks, fellows. We might all need them." Some odd sense of playfulness has invaded the weyrwoman's unhappy mood, and there's just a bit of a bounce to her step now. "At least the wait is over and we can get it done." To T'irn, "Not sure how I am yet. Depends what happens in the next hour or so." Then she's slipping out the exit, leading the men towards the guest weyr.
Lieryth> Jekzith tilts his head again as Lieryth continues to ponder the herd. << I wonder what a herd of tubers would look like. >> And then he imagines it, hordes of tubers lined up in the grass, large as herdbeasts, but colored in kaleidoscope hues, some still with skins, closed up, others split and steaming, with butter melting down their sides. << Our riders might like that a whole lot better than muddy herdbeasts wandering around. >> And he seems to find this amusing even as his bubbles flare brightly, answering laughter for Mikhuth's group.