Log: Lierythx Riuth - After Party

[jekzith]

Who: A Whole Lot of People
When: After the hatching
Where: Living Cavern, Ista Weyr
What: Paddy hits the after party, scores: a lot of conversation, a drink, two dances and a babe.

Largely stolen from Skinner, with after-he-left tacked on. Still have to find the whisper to Dulcie to put in.

All cleaned up and looking tidy compared to oily and a little meaty as the weyrlings will have seen earlier, P'draig turns up at the party nicely dressed, hair still a little damp from that bath he must have taken. He cruises by to pick up a drink and pauses near the headwoman's table with a friendly nod. "Ladies, good evening. Loe, my compliments on the spread in the barracks, the weyrlings were very appreciative. They always do have quite the appetite after impressing."

Ch'son gives Javeri a 'there you see?' sort of look. Thanks, man. "Because you lot are... different. It's easier for you t'go without. Don't try to deny it," he says quickly. "Y'should be playing nice," he agrees, then glances toward Suizen with a grin. He approves of any teasing of Javeri at this point, past, present or future.

From one of the tunnels leading down comes K'aus, disheveled but dressed for the event in some new-looking black duds. And hopefully he timed it right so that his arrival isn't too soon behind that of some other rider from some other wing. She's already joined up with a group of friends or people who will act as convenient distraction, so the brownrider looks for someone else to harrass. He happens upon where Loe, June and Dulcinea are and alerts him to his presence like so. "Ladies." And P'draig. "...and you." There's a fluidity to the way he's speaking that's so smooth it's suspicious. He's been drinking.

Skinner dips his head to Javeri, grateful for her noblesse oblige, and drops into his seat. He crosses one leg up onto his knee and rotates his foot to stretch the ankle. "You guys weyrlings?" he asks, casting his eye at Sooz and Ch'son. "Let me know if you want a memento of your dragon's egg. I've got 'em all." He puts a small sampling on the table, a green egg, a purple one, and one that's just a mess of colors. "Javeri wears shoes?" he adds, picking up that comment from Sooz and threading it back into his conversation.

"Why thank you," Loe returns to June with a grateful bow of her head, very courteous, yes. "I can't take all the credit, of course." But she will take some. And Dulcinea is back with her drink, which Loe peers at in that 'is yours better than mine' fashion. But now she's looking puzzled. "Really. Not a single one is attractive?" she asks. "Or is that all the attractive ones are lazy." She points to each category on the table. Lazy here, attractive there. Wait, who's lazy?" Forgive her, she's easily confused when there's been lots of wine involved.

Suizen laughs at that, and shrugs, "Well, yes... probably so... but really - what'd you expect? You /are/ the one who says I'm needin' my own room, an' I'm the one goin 'huh...wha'?" She does the daft, clueless expression rather well, before taking another sip, and shaking her head at Skinner, "Naw, thanks. I'll probably play around with that sort of thing when I regain time. After all, Chaes here gets to be gettin' me fresh clay."

"When I have to," Javeri answers about shoes. Now she's not of course and she proves it by lifting a leg and putting her foot on the table. Which requires her to tug at the hem of her dress to keep it decent even if it was barely so to begin with. "Yea you can't sell a potter an egg!" She's got a huge egg after all in her weyr. Two of the people at the table have even seen it. She laughs loudly though and stares at Ch'son. "Really?" she asks him with a shake of her head. "When you've graduated I'll tell you some tales about how easy it was for me to go without." But she doesn't right now because that would be cruel and not quite appropriate.

"There are plenty of attractive ones," says Dulcinea, pointing at Loe. Bingo. "But they're all lazy. Or boring. Or--" Eyes flickering off in another direction, too-bright smile. "Dysfunctional. Why hello, K'aus, how nice of you to join us." Only then does P'draig actually register, but maybe she can be forgiven that. At least he's not being used as an example. "Oh, hi," in that direction, too. "Anyway," because of course nobody here is as important as Dulcinea is, "it's just a very big pain. I don't think I'm too picky. Am I too picky?" She's talking to Loe and June. The guys don't count for these questions.

Ch'son focuses his attention Skinner and the shells produced with a frown. "You ain't sellin' them are you? Seems like they should already be ours, don't it? And how d'you know which is which?" While he doesn't actually answer the weyrling question, his reaction is probably answer enough. Attention switches back to Javeri and he's looking at her a little too thoughtfully. Dress? What dress? "I'll just have to use my imagination till then." Brow waggle.

June graciously nods at P'draig when he swings by their table, smiling amiably but making no official hello other than that slight nod. Then, black-clad to match his own black, June eyes K'aus up and down as he approaches, allowing him at least a, "Hi, brownrider," over the rim of her held glass before she turns to listen to the debate going on between Loe and Dulcinea. "You might be," she answers the healer frankly. "Here's a weyrlingmaster right here, after all," she says, lifting a hand in P'draig's direction, giving him a short, smiling glance. "Attractive. Clearly not lazy. But you're not paying the least bit of attention." K'aus, of course, is disqualified; he doesn't get a mention.

"If you're havin' to use your imagination, you haven't been takin' advantage of the beaches, Chaes. Folks go skinny dippin' most every evenin', if the weather's nice. That you have to use your imagination to wonder what a gal's like without clothes, instead of known sitin's - well, your bronze is goin' to be takin' you for a ride..." she teases her fellow weyrling, before tilting her head at Javeri. "I've heard your woe, haven't I?" There's a bit of a face at that fact, then a pout.

Faintly amused by the tenor of the apparent ongoing conversation, P'draig shoos K'aus a look across the table. "K'aus, good to see you," is offered politely to the other rider. "Dulcinea," Paddy returns that 'oh hi' simply. "Three of the weyrlings will probably be coming over for checkups tomorrow morning," he lets her know. "Picky or not picky," maybe that's teasing and June's further summary draws a laugh. "I think I probably fall into the 'taken' and 'ambiguous preferences' categories, though thank you June, I'll cherish attractive and T'mic will gladly complain at length about my workaholic tendencies, though I'll spare you myself."

It's belatedly that Loe realizes P'draig has joined, and that she parces his compliments. "Oh thank *hic*," she puts a hand to her lips, like that will hide the hiccup. "Damn, I thought they'd gone away. Anyway, thank you," she grins. And then there's K'aus, who she looks at. Then she swallows and rolls her shoulders and fixes her smile back into place. That's a far better demeanor for delivering the teasing line, "Well, you haven't hit on June or me, have you? Neither of us is unattractive or lazy." She bounces a faux-suggestive eyebrow over at June.

Skinner says, "Who says I'm selling?" Skinner asks Javeri, pretending to be hurt. He drops the act for Ch'son, who gets a green egg nudged towards him with a grin. "They're free for candidates. All I know is which color dragon hatched from which egg, so-" he stops, hearing Sooz's words, and pulls two more eggs out of his pocket. One's pink-ish (really, swirled red) and the other's a darker egg with little white spots. These he rolls towards Ch'son. While it goes a-rollin', he reaches out to slap Javeri's ankle, but without making eye contact with her. Who did that? Surely no one at this table."

"Just don't tell me about it!" Javeri informs Ch'son. "Because that might somehow break a rule or something I don't know about yet. But I think, Sooz, sweetheart, he means imagining other things. And that's the same imagining you're still doing too." She winks at her fellow former potter before laughing. The laugh turns into an over the top yelp when her ankle gets slapped. So she pulls her foot off the table and tugs at her dress a little to make sure it stays decent. Decent. Setting a good example. That's her!

Ch'son tilts his head and snorts a laugh in Suizen's direction. "It ain't the lack of clothes that gets me goin', sweetling. If I got all hot'n bothered every time I saw a pair-- Right." His words cut off just to agree with Javeri rather than go into more detail. Skinner is a safe place to keep his attention focused and Ch'son only grimaces slightly when he leans forward to look at the eggshells. He picks up the darker one and looks at it, thinking back, then sets it down and picks up the other, the, uh, lightish red one.

It's quite awhile before Nenita makes her way down to the party. When she arrives it's with the robe discarded and her regular clothes back on her sturdy little frame. The living cavern, filled with all these people celebrating is gazed upon with wide eyes. And it's not long before some familiar faces begin to descend upon the former cook, smacking her on the back and offering congratulations. An older woman hustles up to her, "Nenny, dear! Look, I got a figurine of your egg! Just for you! Now go have fun!" The weyrling stares, blankly at the miniature before smiling politely and accepting it. "Thanks, Viasta."

Skinner has his eyes on the egg Ch'son picks. "Hm. Damn," he remarks without context, sweeping up the other egg that contained a bronze and restoring that to one of his pockets. "Sure you don't want one?" he asks Sooz, picking up and rattling the many-colored mini-egg he put out there. "Flips open to reveal a little dragon inside. Or, at least a stone." He grins and demonstrates, opening the current egg up to reveal the bright blue stone within.

"Nice is a stretch," says Dysfunctional with a wryness. His attention wavers on June, partly because he's drunk; partly because he doesn't really know what to say to her. But his eyes linger, perhaps only because he's noticing they're matching. It's enough of a 'hi', his staring, that he does not feel the need to verbalize. She can not-say about him all she wants. They all can. Besides, it's Loe's comment that draws a slow smirk out of him. "Women should admire each other more often," he says, while he's distracted by Nenita's entrance. Without another word he leaves present company to brave the crowd. Once K'aus has reached the former cook he offers her his hand, fingers oddly folded. The smile he wears isn't... /all/ bad.

Newly-appreciative eyes on P'draig now, but then a disappointed moue. "Your *friend* at least had the good grace to make a very halfhearted pass at me," Dulcinea suggests as she retrieves her smile and takes another drink. "I don't have a 'taken' category. I have an 'available' category. There's a difference." But he's taking himself out of the running, it seems, and then Dulcinea is just rolling her eyes at Loe. "Why do women keep suggesting that now?" Then the eyes narrow. "Wait. Are you saying I *should* be hitting on you, Loe?" That idea requires a much *longer* drink.

Suizen eyes Skinner's doodad for a long moment, then shakes her head, "Oh, why not... sure. An' hey - that's usually just bein' the start of the imaginin'... an' we're not goin' to be discussin' what' I'm imaginin' mostly 'cause I never do anyway. So nyeh." And a drink of her one drink, sloooowwwwly sinking down, is taken. A bit more seriously, "I'm not actually too worried 'bout it. Doubt I'll have the energy to be moonin' over the idea anytime soon, tonight aside."

"You know you can go dance with whomever you're mooning over," Javeri tells Suizen with a grin. "Just go on up. Even if they're with someone else. It doesn't matter." Lifting her drink, her one drink even if she could have more, "Well, congratulations though to you two! I don't think I said it proper. I'm glad my first foray into dealing with crazy weyrlings includes you both." Then she looks at Skinner and winks. "And I'm glad it doesn't include you."

Nenita is still staring down at this pretty much useless version of her dragon's egg. And almost as if she can hear Skinner from far away she begins turning it over to see if there's more to it. Is it really a box? Can she put money in it? How heavy is it? While she's looking down she catches sight of a hand coming out to her, one with awkwardly folded fingers. Then the smell of booze hits her and her nose wrinkles a little as she looks up and sees K'aus right there. "Oh, the celebrations are well underway. Want an egg?" And even if he doesn't want it, she's reaching out to open some fingers and push it into his hand.

June shrugs over at P'draig, giving an exaggerated roll of her eyes for those excuses he gives. Details. For Loe, she quickly bounces an eyebrow right back, chuckling into a drink of her wine as she lets the pretense go a beat later. She turns to K'aus for his interjection, batting a few blinks in amongst her partying good spirits, but otherwise not reacting at all. Her eyes follow him off on his drunken progress for only a few seconds, then she returns to look at Loe. "Yes, do tell us, Loe. Apparently, Dulcinea is an interested party."

Just grins lopsidedly in answer to that moue. "Would you rather I flirted?" P'draig asks the healer, eyes dancing just a little, he's in a good mood tonight in spite of probably fatigue from earlier. "I'm available for certain things, not for others" he quips further and nods Loe's way. "Should I come around behind you and goose you, headwoman to help get rid of those? My kids swear by it, but they think it's hilarious to get tickled from behind." K'aus' commentary doesn't earn much of a reaction, though gray-blue eyes do track the black-clad rider over to Nenny and linger there.

Flipping the shell over consideringly before he replaces it on the table, Ch'son picks up his drink and lifts it for the congratulations. "Thank you, Javeri. I'm glad this is the only time I'll ever have to do this and that I have excuses to bother you." His attention wanders as he follows Nenita's progress but he has no desire to get up from where he is just yet.
The look Loe wears as K'aus speaks, as he then walks away, is completely blank, following him with her eyes until he's safely? away. Again, she turns back to the girls and Paddy. Hiccup. "I was teasing, Dulcinea. I wouldn't want to share June with anyone." She lifts her drink to the redheaded innkeeper, wearing a terribly cheeky smile. Then the weyrlingmaster's words sink in and she sits up straight. "No. No no. No goosing." Like she's afraid he can reach from where he is.

They'll trade then, egg for... a small scrap of paper, which K'aus is very good at passing off while looking, mystified, at the thing Nenita's just given him. His mouth flattens. "Why." It isn't really a question and yet it covers so much. "I don't want this." He tries to return it, he tries very hard in fact, but he's also trying to tell her something. Not with words, no, but with his /eyes/. With his eyes and maybe a little bit of telepathy.

Skinner pulls up a wide grin for Javeri. "I don't think you'll ever need to worry about that, love. But I'm always happy to make your life easier. Which color'd you get?" This for Suizen, whom he examines briefly. "Brown? Blue? I've got six of those." He says, widening his grin for a moment before he drops it. "And six greens." Just in case she rides one of those.

A lot of relief at that. Not disappointment. Really not disappointment, even if Dulcinea really has made quick progress on that fourth drink. "Good," she says first, firmly, to the headwoman, and then she turns full-mouthed smile back to P'draig. "I would certainly rather that, right now. Nobody else is. Well, nobody worthwhile. Which is a damned shame, I will tell you that. So what is it you're available for? I'm just looking for a distraction, you see. *You people* stole one of my favorite playthings. I might be angry with you, come to think of it."

Nenita looks down at the piece of paper that's now in her hand. It gets almost as much of a blank look as that egg did when it was shoved into her hand. However this gets slipped neatly into her pocket rather than examined outright. But that thing he's trying to give to her? Not a chance. She'll step back, to the side, sway her arms. Anything that involves not taking back the knicknack. Any. Means. Necessary. "What a surprise, neither do. But it's a gift. And it's my impression day and you were my searchrider so I should give you something. Congratulations!" She flashes him a bright, cheerful grin for her answer.

Suizen eyes Javeri for a long moment, then laughs. To Skinner, "Brown, but hold that thought...." To Javeri, "I expect a dance later with you then, missy, an' Paddy too. But first..." and the new brownrider-of-sorts puts down her drink, and wanders towards one of the groups off to the side. One of the other potters is dragged out to the floor for a group dance, and while Sooz is no harper, quick with a tune and her feet, she doesn't trip. Much.

"I am here to be bugged," Javeri says cheerfully. "At the beck and call of weyrlings freaking out wondering if what's going on is normal." Shaking her head she tells the trader, "Sooz got a brown. The best brown out there. He's no comparison to Chadamalith of course, but for a brown he's not so bad." Winking over at the weyrling she leans back in her chair. Then Sooz's off to dance and she grins. "Atta girl! And I'll save you a dance." Hollered as she goes. Looking at Ch'son she tells him, "You can dance with me when you're better." Skinner? No way!

Except K'aus is drunk, so not only does he not /understand/ this egg-thing, he doesn't know why he can't understand it. But he looks from it to Nenita's bright grinning face and something, some inner working, stops him from trying so very hard to give it back to her. And he doesn't throw it at anyone, either. He keeps it. And stares at her. And then turns to walk out of the cavern.

June arches an eyebrow at Dulcinea, finally making her way to that plate of sweets to maneuver around the cupcake and select a finger-shaped cookie. "Really? One of the weyrlings? Which?" As if she could see all the weyrlings in once glance, she casts a look across the cavern. "But you know, you should think how much more playful he'll get when that dragon of his starts chasing greens." She pauses a moment, darts a glance at Loe, then at P'draig, and adds, "Or being chased. Did he get a green?" Because that would be unfortunate, it seems, from the way June says it.

Skinner chuckles at Suizen's sudden disappearance, picking the eggs off the table and replacing them in various pockets. Those pockets are starting to look less suspiciously bulgy, though his mark pouch must look tempting to pickpockets. Even if, in reality, the marks within are mostly small denominations. "Right, brown. If you'd recognize the egg, I'll give it to you now. Otherwise," he shrugs, "I'll see that I catch up with her somehow." Because he probably won't be here anymore by the time she's done dancing.

"I'll be takin' advantage of that entirely, count on it," Ch'son tells Javeri with a perfectly innocent, perfectly fake grin. "And I'll have that dance, too," he says it in such a way that maybe he even thinks he's capable of dancing. Maybe he is! He watches Suizen wander away, then glances at the eggshell again. "Can't help with hers," he notes absently in regards to Suizen's brown's shell.

"Oh, Dulcinea has a plaything," Loe singsongs. But she too is turning to look across the room for that spread of weyrlings, ready to pick him out. Only the figure she sees is the leaving K'aus. Hurriedly she sucks down a few more mouthfuls of her wine and mumbles out a quick, "Excuse me," before she leave the glass and her companions behind.

"At your service," P'draig answers Dulcinea, mouth pulling a little at the corners. "You look lovely tonight, Dulcinea, will you share a dance? It's the least I can do to make up for winding up with one of your favorite ... distractions in the barracks," the Weyrlingmaster says with a quick-flashed smile. His drink is lifted, a healthy swallow taken, then the glass is set down and Paddy holds a hand out towards the healer. "Provided of course, that you don't mind being drawn away from June and Loe's company," he continues.

Nenita stares as K'aus exits the living cavern, this time it isn't blank and she merely shakes her head back and forth before making her way through the crowd again. Every congratulations and the feeling of someone touching her... and trying to give her another fucking egg just like the one she just got rid of seems to make her more tense. She finally breaks into a clear spot, just beyond where all that dancing is happening. From where she is she can see two groups of familiar faces. But one of them is particularly drawing for her. And that person is Loe. "Loe! Headwoman!" But then she's hurrying out of the living cavern and the grown woman stamps her foot in something akin to childlike frustration as the opportunity to talk passes her by.

"I do not want to be wanted just because his dragon is a loser," Dulcinea announces, clunking her glass hard against the table for emphasis. "Stupid bronze thing." This is just so going to enamor her with P'draig, surely. "Going to be wasted on this. He was so organized. He never, ever left anything out of alphabetical order." Like he's actually deceased or something. Now, finally, she does actually seem to tear up. A little bit. Except then, there is dancing suggested, and eyes dry up like magic. "Oh! Dancing. Yes, dancing sounds fabulous."

"I was so busy trying to keep track I didn't see which dragon came from which egg," Javeri tells Skinner apologetically. "It was pretty crazy. And we are not dancing, Chaes. Because you are hurt and I'm not going to have you get more hurt and then get some kind of lecture for it already." Shaking her head she looks around and then sighs. "And I find myself suddenly thinking of going for a walk."

June waves a hand at P'draig when he makes an allowance for her company, giving her share of the permission that, it seems, must also pass for the absent Loe's. "Go. Have fun, you two." Cookie nibbled down already, she opts for the cupcake and enjoys it before she'll even think of venturing away for a more populated table.

Ah, well. Since Suizen's egg can't be identified, Skinner's time here is done. He gets up from the table, pausing only to knock gently in front of Ch'son. "Let me know if you still want that thing for your fire lizard. Sometime it's not crazy." He grins for the other man, twirling a finger around to illustrate the craziness, then he's off into the crowd. A few, brisk sales later, and he's right back where he started - only the people he started /with/ all seem to be leaving. June's a perfectly pleasant alternative, though, so he flops himself onto a seat right next to her. "Evening, June." Once again he's managed to acquire things magically in the course of walking across the room; he takes a nut out of his hand and pops it into his mouth.

Apparently Paddy won't have to worry about disappointing the headwoman by stealing Dulcinea away he starts to offer a farewell, winds up just nodding as Loe makes a hasty exit after K'aus. June is offered a smile a little bow. "I'm sorry to take away all of your company June, if your card isn't full later, perhaps you'll indulge me too?" Then he's holding his hand out again to take Dulcinea's to lead her off to where others are keeping time with the music. "A very charming harper taught me to waltz about a decade ago," he relates as they go. "So you don't have to worry about your toes at least."

Ch'son frowns at Javeri but he doesn't bother trying to argue his way into anything. The knock puts his attention onto Skinner and his brows go up. Oh right! "Right. Course I will!" The grin is returned and he watches the younger man heading off for a moment before he's looking toward Javeri. "You're leavin' me, too?"

And Skinner has caught June right in the middle of eating that cupcake, not the most dainty or neat thing to be eating in a crowd of people. She does her best, but even she can't prevent a dollop of frosting from sticking to her nose; this is the image Skinner gets as his greeting. As soon as she's dealt with that, a swift finger-swipe and lick later, she smilingly tells him, "I'm not going to buy one of those egg things." His reputation precedes him.

So easily led away, Dulcinea. Still sure enough on her feet, thankfully. "Thank heavens for that. Broken toes," she suggests, "are about the worst things in the world. Especially the little ones. What we can do for them is just about next to nothing." She's just chattering happily on, without the least care for whether P'draig is paying attention to any of it. "You are very tall, aren't you? That's nice. I don't think I remembered that you were this tall. Neither of you ever *did* tell me how you managed to pull off that charming business with his shoulder." There's a little less emphasis on trying to enunciate now, and that plus talking too fast does result in some words not being wholly understandable against the noise of so many other people.

"Bye, Skinner!" He comes and he goes and Javeri just takes it as it happens. What else can you do? "I don't know," she then tells Ch'son. "I thought there were going to be more people hanging out here. I could round you up some groupies?" She's so thoughtful. But she doesn't stand up just yet and leans back to have a drink. "So, I suppose I can hang out until you decide that at least. I'm just antsy. He's antsy. All excited about the hatching. And I don't usually spend a lot of time hanging out in here is all."

Watching the Headwoman walk off, Nenita stands in her little clearing of human bodies appearing lost. She glances briefly in the direction of Skinner and June before moving again, this time heading for a different group of familiar faces. Somewhere by her fellow weyrling and Javeri there must be an empty seat that she can deposit herself into. And she'll find it, even if it has to be removed and brought over there. "Enjoying the party yet?" She asks, looking between bluerider and Ch'son.

Skinner lifts a brow at that undignified smear clinging to June's nose, and when she wipes it off, pronounces it, "Sexy." Turning to her plate of sweets, he pushes a few of the other goodies aside to make room his handful of nuts. Hearing her forecast for the eggs, he laughs. "Don't worry, I think we're already past the peak hour for selling them. I'm nearly out." He pats his pockets, then grabs his mark pouch and flips it around to his lap, where it's safe. "Between the gold and some people being convinced that one of the eggs looks like boxer shorts, I made my profit a long time ago. Nuts?" He turns that portion of the plate towards her.

Thankfully, P'draig has a lot of patience. "Yeah, broken feet hurt like hell," the Weyrlingmaster can contribute to the conversation as he picks up the beat and swings the healer into the dancing fray. "Not as tall as my brother, but tall enough to be noticed," he quips further, grinning down at his dance partner. That question draws a merry laugh and Paddy leans down a little to murmur to that question down below easily audible level.

"No thank you," June delivers easily for the offer to have Skinner's nuts. "I don't care for them." She'll just stick with her cupcake here, another bite of which is taken without mishap. As she chews, she leans to the side a bit, the better to witness his haul of marks. "People will buy the stupidest things," she comments with a slight shake of her head, before she finishes off the last bite of that tiny cake in one quick pop.

"You're a really bad influence," Ch'son grins at Javeri because he doesn't mind it at all. "I think I'll pass on these 'groupies' though." He air quotes with one hand. "Cause I ain't really sure they exist. And I ain't sure I want the tempt-- Nen!" He's easily distracted. And maybe a little too happy to see the other weyrling. Eyes go to her shoulder first. "You good? I'd enjoy it more if dancing didn't hurt."

"I'm the only kind of influence I can be," Javeri says with a shake of her head. "And they do exist. A shame Avey transferred because you could meet one first hand." Looking at Nenita when she sits the bluerider smiles and nods. Luckily for her there's plenty of seats that have been abandoned at their table. "Have a seat. One drink though remember." Yep. She says that all serious. But then she smiles. "Oh, and congrats and all."

Dulcinea responds to the murmurs with a bright laugh, entirely too noisy a laugh, following his lead with feet that at least don't seem to have been as touched by her drinks as her voice has. The voice that forgets entirely that it's supposed to be responding with a whisper. "I am entirely in favor of pornographic details," she insists in return, and there are certainly stares from some of the other couples nearby. Not that she seems to notice. "No signs of any problems since, I take it? That was a simple one. I'm glad when patients are simple."

Nenita's eyes go directly to... his crotch. Which under normal circumstances would probably be a little odd and people might be justified in making lewd comments. But not tonight, not when there's a painful mauling gashy thing somewhere in his pants by that general area. "I'm fine. It was just very messy looking. How's your... inner thigh?" She asks, lips pulling into a grin. She settles down into her chair, legs folding underneath her. For the bluerider there's a grin, "Thanks, Veri. I'll try to restrain myself from rampant drinking tonight."

Skinner makes a sad moue when she refuses his nuts. "They weren't in my hand for long," he offers, holding up his clean palm as further evidence that they're acceptable. But he's interested in the sweets himself, and goes for a cookie. "Now, June," he reproaches, lightly enough to suggest he's teasing. "There's plenty of good reasons to buy a memento today. Say a family member Impressed, or you just want some token of the new weyrwoman's Impression. Isn't it worth a mere eighth of a mark, just to preserve these memories?" He smiles at her, his charming salesman smile, put on all for showing her how he's been working his magic on fools and their money all night.

Laughter rises from the dancing area: P'draig for Dulcinea's loudly voiced return comment. "Maybe later?" he suggests mildly, eyes crinkling at the corners with the good humor in that reply. "No, no problems since, healed right up, back in the saddle, no permanent damage. And I'll keep that in mind if I have to bring you any more injured. My wounded weyrlings all seem pretty straightforward, so hopefully that will keep me in your healerly good graces." Beat. "If nothing else." That one song ends and Paddy comes to a halt. "Another dance or another drink?"

The nuts are given another quick glance, full of distaste, as if they were diseased or something. "No, really. I'm fine," June insists mildly, busying herself with the brushing of crumbs and the checking for further frosting dots while she gives the rest of her idle attention to his pitch. "No," she replies frankly, giving a short laugh and looking up at him, shaking her head. "It's really not. You know, sometimes I think that it isn't so much that you're a good salesman, but that people will just take any excuse to spend a few marks." Her wine glass is taken up again and she cradles it near to her chest after a short sip.

"So there was one. And she transferred?" Ch'son is trying to understand this. But, "Anyway, it don't matter. We've got Nenita now. And she's interested in my--" the weyrling looks from Nenita to Javeri and back again. "It'll be fine. Probably leave an interestin' scar and won't be too comfortable to," there's a pause to lift his brows meaningfully and there's a gesture of his hand, too, because he's just not sure they get it. "But 'spose I'd be avoidin' that anyhow." He looks at Javeri like that's her fault.

Well, if she won't, he'll have to make do for himself. Skinner reclaims his nuts and fits one between his fingers, holding it there to see if it tantalizes the tavern keeper. "Nuts to you," he jokes, before eating them. While he's crunching away, he can't answer June immediately, so he just gives her a sad look. After he swallows, he says, "June, I'm hurt. You don't think I'm a good salesman?" Puppy dog eyes, so big and brown and dawwww!

"I think--another dance might be ill-advised," Dulcinea admits, holding onto P'draig's arm for longer than is strictly necessary. "I think I'm a bit light-headed. So another drink it is! Weyrlings. Yes. Everyone all right? I did see. Not on duty, you understand. It didn't look like it was that bad, though. But it's my day off, and I've been trying not to go in to work on my days off. They don't like it."

"There's always more than one. I was just thinking of a girl in my weyrling class," Javeri says with a smile. "And it is not my fault." Because she saw that look and all. "Besides if you were really upset you'd not be wearing Chadamalith's gift to you." Then she turns to Nenita as if just remembering, "And you. Another cook lost. My poor ship is going to be devoid of all but sailors now nearly. Two cooks and a harper." Then she frowns suddenly. "Shells. I didn't even tell them. I need to go tell them and make sure the ship's ready for cruises and try to get this stuff done before tomorrow and...well." Standing up she grins and waggles a finger. "One drink and one drink only. No naughtiness. And don't be out too late because in a few hours they're going to be waking up wanting food and possibly having made a mess for you to clean up." She leaves on a happy note doesn't she?

Nenita is not someone inclined towards sharp pointed looks, but one manages to manifest itself on her face right now. And that look is directed towards Ch'son, where an eyebrow pops up. "I'm interested very much in your charming personality. Just like I will be for the next uh... long time." But then Javeri is talking to her and she's grinning once again, this time sheepishly. "Oh, I'm sorry about that. I could make some suggestions for you, I know a couple of good girls for the job." The job of cooking, not groupie. She holds her hands open to indicate the lack of drink, "No problem, ma'am. And no, naughtiness." Mention of bad things being there in the morning gets a sad, sad face.

In a quieter tone: "To be honest ...are you sure about another drink?" P'draig questions, though it's a mild one. Still, there's that arm for support as he leads Dulcinea back towards people at tables. "And not on duty is good as is relaxing and having a good time. Where would you rather sit? And should I get you something dangerous to drink or something safer?" On with the good-natured flirting it seems.

June lets Skinner have his nut and eat it, too. Heck, make it an even pair, she doesn't care. "Oh, you're decent enough," June relents reluctantly, "don't give me the wounded bit. But I'm making a point here." She pushes her wine glass outward, /point,/ but manages to keep the sloshing to a minimum and then insures herself against future spills by taking a nice sizeable drink from it. "People moan and carry on about not having a thirty-second to their name, but they're the first ones to line up for that sort of shit. That's all I'm saying." Point made, she shakes her head and returns to the wine, sipping more gingerly.

"I am absolutely sure about another drink," Dulcinea confirms to P'draig. "Just one more," though, placatingly. She's not really that unsteady, now that the dancing's past. "Relaxing. Having a good time. I am in favor of those things. Everybody thinks I do nothing but work, but I know how to have a good time," like she's trying to convince someone of this. "Dangerous. Absolutely dangerous. I am extremely in favor of dangerous."

On out Javeri goes to see to the ship before being up for the morning shift. And maybe her dress will have better luck on the docks than it did here. People wonder why she prefers sailors! On the way out she grabs a drink from a weyrling who looks to have had more than his one already. It being full it goes with her.

"That's because they have no self-control," Skinner responds easily, his puppy dog act dropped the second she tells him to. Not like anyone believed it was genuine. "How do you think they wound up without a thirty-second to their name? By spending it," he twirls a finger, suspense and showmanship, "on shit. These people have stipends, you know," he gestures widely with both arms, though he's careful not to hit June when he does it. Unlike some people, he hasn't had anything to drink tonight. "They're fed, and clothed, and given a place to sleep. The only way they wind up broke is if they do it to themselves. And why shouldn't they, when all their needs are taken care of?"

"I'm not upset." Because he isn't. Ch'son is pretty far from upset, actually. "I'll be good. Promise." Blah blah blah. Etc. "I'll have to develop a charmin' personality by the time this is all over from what I'm hearin'. And of course you'd say that." His theory from earlier holds true. "You don't gotta hang out with me," he tells the other weyrling when Javeri takes off. "Think I might start headin' back to the barracks. Or figure out where Fetch got to. Ain't seen him since. Reckon he's mad?"

"Pornography, relaxation, good times and danger. You're quite the woman," P'draig tells Dulcinea confidentially with another one of those nice little grins he's got and then he's aiming to hand her down into a seat at June's table. "One glass of dangerous coming right up," he promises and moves away to fetch it. Javeri's departure is noted but he can't catch her eye or wave with the intervening crowd, though his path does take him past the two weyrlings. "You two all right? Shoulder, thigh, dragonets?" he asks with a smile. "And Nenny, if you're still awake enough for one, a dance after I fetch another drink for the healer?"

June nods, her own gaze falling on the milling crowd when Skinner's wide-flung arms indicate them. "It all does seem a bit too easy, doesn't it? At the holds, it's..." Words escape her for a second and she slips in a sip of wine into her grasping for them. "You have to pay for your way of life. Tithes. Seems more satisfying, doesn't it?" The return of the healer and her dancing partner is met with a wider set of her smile. "Dulcinea, you're back. We were just talking about the Weyr's stipends. Oh, maybe that's what makes the men around here so lazy." Another subtle gesture is made with her wine glass when she happens upon that connection, just a tilt this time and a slosh-free one at that.

"Yeah, well. We're all going to have develop some amazing personalities. Because apparently we're untouchables for some time. Or I'm an untouchable." Nenita tells him, maybe looking not so happy about that part. Probably because she's comparing it to other unpleasent things, like leprosy. When he mentions leaving though, she looks deflated glancing around. "Are you going too? This party isn't very exciting. I think I should stop going to them. I'm terrible luck for company." Mention of the firelizard brings a shrug of her shoulders. "He could be, firelizards are strange. Tempermental. Maybe when he gets hungry he'll be back." The sound of P'draig's voice garners a glance over her shoulder, "I'm fine. Shoulder's fine. Dragon is asleep. And sure, if you'd like."

Skinner considers for a moment, then comes back with a grin. "Seems more productive." He reaches into his lap and pats the bulging pouch there, the marks within clattering faintly. "But it works out pretty well for us, or at least me," he admits. He cuts off his grin to watch Dulcinea come back to roost, waiting for her to settle before he blinds her with his dazzling, toothy smile. "Welcome back, love. Do you think I'm lazy?"

"Back," echoes Dulcinea, watching after P'draig with faintly furrowed brow, but then she turns a bright smile back to June, and another one to Skinner there. "Well, you won't hear a disagreement from me on *that* score. Not that I care for things so much, but it does seem rather inherently unfair that I am paid exactly as poorly as every barely-competent journeyman out there who will never be anything more than a journeyman." She leans forward, rests her elbows on the table. "Of course I think you're lazy. I suggested you might put forth a little effort in exchange for oral sex and you declared me not worth it," she says airily to Skinner. "Competition," to June. "That's what prevents laziness."

"Untouchable," Ch'son agrees like that's a perfectly appropriate word that he never would have thought up on his own. "They say I'm gonna be right as rain," he says to P'draig even though he doesn't sound at all convinced. "And now look. You've got dancin' lined up and I don't really wanna sit around watchin' you dancin' with everyone." This is obviously to Nenita. Not P'draig. And he realizes what he just said then and there's a brief scowl beneath his orange ninja headband. "Nevermind. You ain't terrible luck for company."

June lifts her brows at the development Dulcinea brings to the conversation, but though there's surprise there, there's not a trace of shock or condemnation. Replace those normal reactions with one of idle amusement in this case. "Maybe you should have a tournament for your boy toys, then," June suggests casually as she reaches over to her plate for another of those small, thin cookies.

Skinner laughs, not at all disturbed to find his dirty laundry (is it even?) aired in front of June. "You're the one who made it out to be complicated, doll. I get enough blowjobs not to waste my time on the complicated ones. Not my priority." He wags a finger through the air; not at anyone in particular, just a metronomic emphasis to his point. "You're right about the rest of it, though," he tells the healer jovially.

"Keep me penciled in then," P'draig tells Nenita jovially and quirks a humorous look at Ch'son. "Touchable, but not you know, to the extent that most might like," the Weyrlingmaster notes. "No one is going to get up in arms for a hug or a pat on the hand or a dance," but with that said, he moves on to getting that drink for Dulcinea and when he returns to the table where she's sitting he offers up the glass with a flourish. "Danger in a glass. It's very potent."

Nenita blinks once or twice when he makes those remarks and there's a ducking of her eyes until the 'nervermind' comes out of his mouth. Looking up carefully, she goes to put her hand on his knee, "I promise that once you feel comfortable again we'll have a dance. Even if it's a little late." There's a smile, touched with maybe a little hope and some attempt at good cheer. Even if P'draig is walking by telling them that patting each other is okay. "I'll try not to pat your hand too much the next couple of months."

Four drinks. That's what makes this sound reasonable. "A tournament. Now, there's a thought," muses Dulcinea, but finally she shakes her head. "No. No, that would be silly." An eye roll, more for June's benefit than the boy's. "You see? Everything has to be easy. The balance of attractive men--and I do use that term loosely--to attractive women is seriously off, here." And look, here's number five! She just beams as she takes it from P'draig and sips experimentally. "Oh, that *is*. Thank you. This will definitely have to be the last or someone will be carrying me back to my room--or perhaps that ought to be what I'm after? I forget."

June fields Dulcinea's drunken ramblings with a seriousness that only thinly veils the amusement she gets from listening. "You're right," is what she takes back her silly idea with, then she comments, "Someone really is making it too easy on them." Nevermind that she's a ridiculously easy target herself, that's a subject for another conversation. She gives Skinner a smile-squinted glance, then turns to welcome P'draig back with the same, all while she munches another bite of her little cookie.

Ch'son watches P'draig as he wanders and he continues talking to Nenita before his eyes return to her. "Why isn't L'whateverhisnameisnow here?" Not that he sounds particularly upset that he's not here. "I wasn't really payin' attention. How is he?" When can I punch him in the face? That's the real suggestion of his tone, whether or not he'd actually do it. "I don't forget promises," he adds. "Especially when I'm not drunk." And he's very unfortunately not. But there is a smile for the other weyrling.

"Won't be me, doll," Skinner tells Dulcinea, leaning around June to pat the healer's hand where it rests on her new drink. His eyes follow the Weyrlingmaster to the table and away, and he even grins a greeting at the man, much though they haven't gotten along historically. Returning his gaze to Dulcinea, "So you're attracted to women?" He lifts a brow, his lips wriggling briefly with the effort not to smile. He tamps it down quickly, and it's gone for good.

"Mm, it makes for a decent nightcap," P'draig notes about the drink in question, laughs a little at that forgetful claim. "I still owe you what some might call a bed time story, so if you're still feeling the need to be carried when I get back, we can perhaps, work that out," the Weyrlingmaster offers straightforwardly. "I've made another dancing committment, so it'll be at least a song's worth for figuring it out," Paddy says and grins June's way, nods Skinner's way.

"'Course it won't be you," says Dulcinea to Skinner, dismissive, pulling both hand and drink away from him. She holds the drink close, like it might possibly be stolen away from her, and takes a long swig of it. Charming smile in P'draig's direction. "Stories. Oh, yes. If you've got another dance to do, you'd best go do that. I'll expect you back." Shooing motion of the hand not holding her drink before her attention returns to the conversation at hand. "I'm not attracted to women. I am an attractive women. And there are too many attractive women. I mean, look." A nod to June. "You and your sisters alone. Too many. There should be more men, even things up."

Skinner will win a sharp laugh from June with his question for the healer, though she cuts it off sharply in order to hear the response. "Yes," she replies, dolefully confirming, "I'm afraid there are too many of us. And we're far too easy, too." June purses her lips gently as she listens to Paddy's farewell, drawing it back into a smile only when he passes her his own grin. When he's safely out of hearing distance, she adds teasingly, "But it seems like you did perfectly well for yourself tonight, so I don't see why you're still complaining."

"Oh shit, I don't have any idea what his name is now." Nenita realizes, mouth opening up and her eyebrows furrow. "He looks okay. Apparently his dragon just poked him in the ribs." Which is to say, didn't run him over like a small bulldozer and try to take out arms and thighs on the way down. She smiles then, squeezing his knee before taking her hand back. "Don't think I'll be too put upon when you come to collect."

When Dulcinea pulls her hand away from him, Skinner can't keep that wriggle of a smile down any longer. Out it comes, complete with flashing teeth. "Just in time," he comments, of Paddy the possible home-dragger.

Forgive him if he looks a little satisfied by the fact that Nenita doesn't know the other bronze weyrling's name. It won't last for long, obviously. Ch'son glances at Nenita's shoulder again, then his smile is more for her. "Good." And that must be for the whole poking in the ribs business. Or that he looks okay. One or the other. Because Ch'son continues with, "Glad to hear it. But I'm sure there's plenty out there now waitin' on a chance to dance with you now." And he glances 'out there' as though it's a small suggestion that she not waste her evening sitting with the horribly disfigured (or mildly scratched, depending on who you're asking) weyrling.

Nenita looks around in their general vicinity. One that doesn't seem to be occupied by any men that are banging down doors to dance with her. "If you say so. Though it's rather difficult to get up and dance with people that don't seem to be around." She pauses here to glance around for the familiar face of P'draig, who's supposed to becoming back but she doesn't see straight-away. "You don't have to sit here and keep me company either. You're perfectly free to go back to the barracks or look around for Fetch. I'll be able to fight off the advances of all these suitors." She tells him, smiling wryly.

"Stories," Paddy echoes with a laugh and a little quirk of brows. "Not enough men? Hm. I'll have to tell Mic that, he'll think it's funny," the brownrider notes and pushes away from the table and crowd-dodges to find the weyrlings again. "Still got that spot on your dance card free, Nenny?" he asks the new-minted goldrider.

Ch'son smirks at Nenita's response to his oh-so-graciousness. Fortunately he's saved from really having to actually commit one way or the other when P'draig returns asking about that dance. "She does," he replies for her and offers her a pat on the hand as he moves to force himself out of his seat. "Go dance. Have fun while you can," he tells her. "And congratulations." It's a popular word tonight. And with that, he starts making his way out.

"It's a question of quality," Dulcinea tells June, once the weyrlingmaster is off getting his other dance. Of course, she's talking about all of this in an entirely theoretical way. It's always easier to talk philosophical things when you've had more to drink than you ought. "Just like with work. Put a couple different crafters in competition for a promotion, suddenly they're all turning out better work than any one of them would have alone."

What Skinner said about the peak hours for selling fake eggs may have been true, but just because peak hours have passed doesn't mean there's still potential there. A pair of beaming young men, arms slung over each other's shoulders, are wandering around the table, having been pointed this way, asking who's selling those darling replica eggs? Skinner gives them a look, but in a moment he's up on his feet. "Pardon me, ladies," he tells his two tablemates, and then he's off to make another pitch.

"Thank you! You too, Chaes!" Nenita tells him, sincerely. She watches him leave over her shoulder before she gets to her feet, offering her hand out to P'draig as she gets up to her feet. Grinning, "The music is lively now. You promise that you're not going to step on my feet too much?"

June hasn't had nearly as much to drink as Dulcinea has, but still she can appreciate the theoretical bent of the conversation. "I'm with you," she tells the healer, sliding the rest of her wine down in one swift gulp. Skinner, she dismisses with a farewell flip of her hand and a hasty, 'yes-yes' sort of nod before continuing. "The Weyr has a bad... laundress, let's say. Always screws up the dyes or something. You can't fire her, because then she's eating the Weyr's food, using up the Weyr's space, all for nothing. Best you can do is move her around and hope you find a better position for her. Same thing with men," she brings it around full circle, though she doesn't quite explain that claim.

"Rest well, Ch'son," P'draig says sincerely as he realizes the other weyrling is heading out. "See you in the morning," is obvious too. Then Paddy's taking Nenita's hand and smiling down at her warmly. "Like I was telling my earlier dance partner, I think I've learned enough dancing to avoid that. Let's go kick up our heels for a little before /you/ need to go get a good night's sleep." He wags a werylingmastery finger at the weyrling. "More seriously, I'm really pleased for you, Nenny, though I'm sorry about that nick you got. Maybe the chain mail was a good idea after all?" This as they head out onto the floor and Paddy waits for a moment so they don't crash into anyone when they join the other dancers.

"Exactly!" Dulcinea cries that entirely too loudly, gesturing with her drink, which is thankfully empty enough now not to slosh everywhere. "Exactly. Bad laundress. Just like that." Another sip of her drink. Several sips, really. "Not that I'm in favor of anybody not *eating*, but maybe if they didn't get... food, it wouldn't take too long to motivate them into working harder."

Nenita puts her hands in all the proper places for this particular dance and her feet easily fall into the rather quick paces the music puts them through. "You see, people don't take me seriously enough. I'm full of all sorts of good ideas. The candidates should be sent out in armour. It's a good thing Ch'son still has his... You know." If her hands were free she'd make a motion. But instead her eyes just dart down to P'draig's below the belt area. "I'm sure once I go back to the barracks I'll immediately be unconscious."

June laughs quietly over Dulcinea's exclamation, leaning forward to put her glass down on the table. Before she surrenders it completely, though, she's using it to gesture as she says, "Maybe drink." The wine glass tilts toward the healer's own strong drink, then lies still on the table. June leans back. "Only those who work hard get wine with their dinner."

"And we should," P'draig agrees with Nenita, "you're just chock full of good ideas and have Ista's best intentions at heart," he tells her, with a grin that remains wide and warm. "Mm, definitely a close call there. Though the gash isn't too bad, really. Awkward spot for it, I hope it doesn't itch too much while he's healing up," the weyrlingmster notes, laughing a little as Nenny's eyes go drifting meaningfully. "Probably, it's a long day at the end of it." More quietly: "How are you feeling about it all, or hasn't it fully sunk in yet?"

"Yeah, I can imagine how that's going to look in public. Him scratching the wound in the middle of lessons." If Nenita's smile is chock full of smirkiness, don't mind her. She moves her feet in time to the beat, her eyes dropping down to the check their location. When they come up again it's too meet his gaze over the last question. "Right now I'd have to say that it hasn't really sunk in yet. She's asleep and I'm alone so it feels... it feels sort of like when she wasn't there."

"I think you'd be surprised how many people'd turn teetotaler in the face of that," says Dulcinea with a little high giggle, finally setting her own glass down once it's about two thirds empty. "It has to be something they can't manage without. Depriving someone of luxuries only goes so far. Make the necessities available but only for some effort... eventually it'll sink in. I hope." She lets out a sigh. "But it has to be things they can't get elsewhere, too."

"Sounds like at least one of his clutchmates will be highly entertained," P'draig tells Nenny with a twinkle of humor in his eyes but he listens seriously enough to her answer to his question. "Mmm. That feeling might stick around for a bit, frankly." Beat. "Almost but not quite." There's a little pause and then softly: "Can you hear her dream, Nenita, if you close your eyes and let the party fade away?"

June nods for the loophole she didn't see before, conceding easily. "I don't know if you'll be able to find that magic something that everyone needs but no one can get anywhere else. You have too many Skinners, who'll get you anything for the right price." One of her hands lingers on the table, fingernails gently tapping at the glass that she looks at for a moment before pulling herself up out of the chair. "Before we start meddling in the lives of Weyrfolk for real, though, I need another drink. I'll be back in a minute." Wine glass scooped up, she makes her way to the wine table, only to get tied up in conversation with a distinguished-looking older gentleman.

"I think I can get away with picking on him a little bit. He's got a high tolerance for it most of the time." Nenita responds with amusement. She begins to shake her head when he asks the questions about dreaming. "I don't think that I'm ready to do something like that. Right now, right now I just need to think all alone without going there." She smiles warmly as the particular number they're dancing to comes to a close. "I'm going to go back to the barracks though, and sleep I think. But not before I take my one drink with me."

"Mm-hmm," is Dulcinea's only response as June wanders off again for another drink, leaving the healer alone at the table, watching off after the dancers to try to pick one out at the group, distracted at several points by some other face or figure here and there. Hey, they may not be sufficiently interesting, but they're still pretty.
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"Good, he does seem like a pretty interesting fellow," P'draig notes lightly. "You know, I could always hear Jekzith," he says about the dreaming. "I was mostly curious if it was like that for you or not," the weyrlingmaster says and gives a little bow as the dance ends. "Thanks for the dance, Nenny, enjoy that drink and I'll see you tomorrow." His hand squeezes hers lightly before he steps back and away. "And I'd better go make sure Dulcinea hasn't drowned in that drink I gave her." Quietly: "Good night, Nenny," as Paddy heads back over to the drunken healer.

"Thank you, Paddy. I'll you in the morning." As they walk away from the dancing, she glances in the direction of the healer. She smiles a little and glances to the brownrider before moving off through the now thinning crowds. A glimpse or two of her may be seen, once get her glass of wine, another chatting idly and then another as she finally escapes out into the night air.

Not drunk. Absolutely not drunk. Dulcinea is waiting, leaned back with her elbow on the table, still that third of the glass waiting, when the weyrlingmaster returns to her. "I believe I am still sufficiently ambulatory to make it back on my own," she observes, and she's talking very carefully, a little bit slower than usual. "But I wouldn't mind company." She pulls herself up to standing. Look, see? Just fine. Not wobbly.

Upon arrival, P'draig eyes June's vacant chair and rests his hands down on its back. "If you can put it in those words, I think you might just be able," the weyrlingmaster says with a laugh and as she stands he steps around to offer her his arm. Very gentlemanly. "I'd be happy to walk you home."

The healer takes the offered arm, which is probably good, because her steps are not quite as solid as her abilities to remain stationary and upright. "Absolutely. Not too far." Dulcinea smiles, all white teeth. "And then you can tell me a story. And, hey, tuck me in, while you're at it, hmm?" She laughs again, and pulls him off in the direction of the lower caverns.

"No, it's not a very long walk," P'draig replies and he laughs again, ambles along at a pace that's not so fast that she might risk stumbling and falling, but isn't so slow that it's dawdling. "One bedtime story, coming right up," he jokes a little, and continues on out through the remaining crowd into those caverns.