Log: Angry Face
Who: Ajatha, An'dren, Ch'son, Gabrion, L'hai, Mae, Nenita, P'draig, Z'yi
When: Evening, day 9, month 9, turn 21 of the 10th interval
Where: Garden Pavilion, Ista Weyr
What: There's a party going on, but Paddy's mood is less-than-good due to some kerfluffle with his ex. Still, he manages to have a short good time with Ch'son and Ajatha over drinks.
Theme of the party: Your Rarely Used Icon. Folks who were able were to make a pose or theme the RP to a rarely used LJ icon and actually use it. Of all of Paddy's, the one that gets used the least is Angry Face. Therefore all the pissy.
Garden Pavilion, Ista Weyr(#1904RJ)
The sweep of lush green grass brings the eye to the pavilion, built square in the middle of the lawn. Tall, heavy wooden columns ensnared by the steady growth of Istan white flower-vines, leads to the slate grey roofing. Colorful vegetation grows all along the perimeter, kept healthy and orderly by frequent gardening.
The pavilion itself provides an open, covered space for dining tables or dancing and the flagstones continuing outward form patio for overflow, allowing varied configurations to suit any gathering. To one side is the cooking station with a few simple counters for prep and serving, several small grills and one large one and a bar that that stands unstocked when there's no party in progress. All around the structure and the surrounding area, stretching overhead, are strings of glass globes for glowlight and other festive decorations.
An'dren's here, and dressed appropriately for the event. He arrived sometime after the buffet but before most of the crowd, and now he's standing at a corner of the pavilion, a plate in hand and head slightly bent towards the bluerider talking animatedly to him. His plate is mostly full, despite his having hit the tables almost as soon as he'd stepped foot beneath the roof, but he manages to look convincingly interested in whatever the other rider's talking about. There's barely any longing at all in the sidelong glance towards his food.
As more people come wandering in to join the party, Nenita takes a step off to the side to wipe her forehead. She leans against the rail and gives the growing crowd an appraising look. Then she gives the food that's cooking a very similar look and holds her fingers up, doing some sort of math on them. Hopefully the food won't run out? The goldrider eventually pushes off and works her way to the buffet line, intent on sneaking through. She notices Mae on her way by and gives the weaver a friendly smile and wave, her eyes dropping to take in the sight of her dress. Ch'son gets a very similar wave but she doesn't seem too interested in his clothes, go figure.
The wet summer season oppresses the island with high humidity and sweltering temperatures. Tonight, the clear sky is alight with stars and the air hardly moves more than a whisper.
Who could blame the Weyrwoman? Mae's dress is probably more up her alley than Ch'son's orange sash thing. The weaver lifts a hand to twiddle fingers cheerfully at the passing woman and sends another glance around the pavillion before she decides to simply join a table at random, sinking into it and smiling cheerful.
Flapping his shirt as he walks towards the party, given that the weather is still sweltering," P'draig does not look quite as easy-going as usual. In fact there's hints of tension in the way he carries himself, though the brownrider promptly stops to chat with the cooks as he comes into the general area, listening and nodding. He keeps that up for a few minutes, then joins the press of the crowd, working his way through it towards where the /drinks/ are being served. Though neat and tidy and a notch up from his usual garb, Paddy's shirt and pants probably wouldn't be called fancy.
An'dren listens politely to the bluerider for a few more minutes, then excuses himself with something or other about needing to speak to the Weyrwoman. And he does, true to word, make his way over to Nenita in the buffet line, though once he gets there, he just smiles at her and says, "Evening. You really do host some amazing parties."
Nenita doesn't seem to be actually on the line to get anything though. She's simply squished herself in between the warm bodies so that she can eyeball what's been laid out on the table. Her eyebrows narrow and her shoulders tense, the tell-tale sign of a woman ready to wind herself up. It's then that An'dren's voice catches her and she reacts with surprise, turning quickly around to look at him. "Oh, thank you. I'm sorry, I didn't realize that you were right there. Am I in your way? Are you looking for something to eat? I'm not actually eating." It's a ramble as she steps back from the line, trying to get out of the way of traffic a little.
The orange sash thing is a trademark! Really. Or just one of those things that Ch'son thinks is way more awesome than it really is. His gaze is caught for more than a few moments by the weaver and he returns the acknowledging wave from Nenita with one of his own. But he's not going to approach either and he's had a lot of practice with this checking chicks out business so he can do that discreetly while he goes to find himself a drink. "Hey, man," he says to P'draig there since, well, he's there.
Up come gray-blue eyes and P'draig focuses on Ch'son, manfully banishes much of what looks like a thundercloud hanging over his mood. "Hey, Ch'son. Had a chance to sample yet?" the brownrider asks, chin jerking towards the busy business of drink-mixing going on. "I need a strong one tonight, I think." Breath out, pause and a look around. "Hopping party, hm?"
An'dren steps back quickly when Nenita does, giving her room to maneuver out of the line. "I just got here," he reassures her, though his eyebrows are raised and his expression overall is a bit bewildered by her reaction. "I just came by to say hi. Am I interrupting something? I could come find you later, if this is a bad time." He shuffles another step backwards and adds, "I should probably sit down, actually. I feel like I'm just getting in the way here."
Mae spends a few minutes talking to the people at the table before she's bouncing up again, ready to move on. She notices P'draig and Ch'son over there by the drinks, but it's towards the buffet table she heads next. A look-over is given An'dren as she approaches he and Nenita. "Quite the party, eh?" she greets them both almost breathlessly.
Here's a sight for sore eyes. While none might have noticed that whole shuddering display of brown-ice making a subtle exit from nowhere at all in the sky, the passenger soon makes their appearance known with a little flutter of her skirt as Ajatha makes her way into the pavillion. Her tan might be a little lighter than before, but her hair and eyes are still the same, her steps announced with the wild song of the clacking of beads and bells interwoven into her hair. Rather than hanging at the back, she watches and moves right through the crush, toward a familiar body. An arm swings out and pretty much wraps the waist of a certain Weyrwoman. "Nenny, did you miss me?"
Ch'son is not so completely oblivious as all that. He considers P'draig for just a moment before nodding his agreement to the drink-maker person. "Strong one sounds good." Back to the brownrider, he shrugs and turns to look at said party, "I ain't really a party person. Specially the stuff where I'm 'spected to stay on my best behavior and--" He lifts a hand to his slightly scruffy face. "Well, didn't shave." His blue eyes turn back to P'draig and he asks, "Y'good?"
It's probably the bewildered expression on An'dren's face that has her taking a breath and forcing some sort of relaxtion through her muscles. "Oh, no. You're not interrupting anything, you're not in the way, I was just checking on some things. I guess they're not ready yet and I thought that they would be. Stuffed clams. A delay on the stuffed clams." Why this is even remotely important or urgent might only make sense to her or another food person. She begins turning away from the poor Weyrleader to stare back at the table and is then double surprised by the sudden appearance of two tall blonde women. One of which is touching her. "Ajatha!" Nenita laughs and slips an arm around her waist. "This is An'dren and Mae, our newest weaver. And this is well, Ajatha. She used to live here before deserting us." No need to be slow on the introductions it would seem.
When two more people join their particular section of the buffet, An'dren takes yet another step back, though he smiles when introductions are made. "Ajatha," he says. "I think I remember you. You ride for Reaches now, don't you?" That last bit's probably provided by Riuth, who's really quite a handy cheatsheet. Mae gets a nod of greeting and a somewhat belated, "It really is. Quite the party." That last bit's tacked on just in case she's lost track of what she'd originally asked.
"I'd rather be cooking right now," P'draig confesses with a wry grin for Ch'son and takes a glass of something maybe unidentifiable, but definitely /strong/ when it's done being prepared. Promptly, the brownrider swigs from the glass, nods. "I don't think this one is so fancy it'd require a shave," he muses aloud then makes a little face. "Will be once I get a few of these, I guess. Palia's mother is ..." he waves a hand vaguely and frustration creases his forehead. "Seven turns go by and she's been happy to mostly not see her except for the odd visit and now she's making a stink about her rights."
Ajatha puffs up something awful while she's being introduced and dips into quite the theatrical curtsey - as much as her short skirt will allow it. Oops. But before she can say anything to the other two, she glances at Nenita and squints an eye at her. "I didn't desert you. You know good any well that it was all that Gr'kaif's fault." -Everything- was Kaif's fault. But abruptly, she straightens slightly and takes on a very formal tone. Maybe it's An'dren's reminder, or maybe it's something she hears from her dearly-not-here partner-in-crime-of-the-draconic-kind. "I am, of course, Ajatha of High Reaches Weyr. Rider of the illustrious brown Rasiyoth of the Avalanche Wing. High Reaches' duties to Ista Weyr and her queens." Such grandeur, one would think that she was a great Holder's daughter, or a freaking goldrider herself. It's all them cocky airs around her.
Mae bobs her head to An'dren and Ajatha in turn, chirping brightly, "Great to meet you both!" Ajatha is given a particularly long eye, or specifically, her hair. "What an interesting idea." The tall weaver tips her head to the side, and then her attention flutters away again. Too many people, clearly, too much to do, little miss social butterfly flutters back towards the food line and promptly strikes up a conversation with the person who gets in line behind her.
For those just one the scene: By the buffet line, Nenita and An'dren have been exchanging pleasentaries and have recently been joined by Mae and Ajatha. The trio of harpers playing songs are still playing songs and the people cooking food at the grill are still doing that, though they're beginning to look a little haggard trying to keep up with the demand for fresh-whatever-it-is they're making fresh. By the bar is P'draig and Ch'son who seem to be talking about something that's making the brownrider want to get totally wasted. And that's where we are right now!
ATTENTION EVERYONE. The party is allowed to start now. Z'yi has entered the building. No, seriously. The bluerider enters with only a bit of his swag on, one arm slung around the neck of one of his wingmates-- a very pretty, but very severe-faced young woman who looks seriously strained at having to put up with what appears to be a very jovially toasted Z'yi. "And then I said to him," the deep bass of the typically quiet Isz rumbles forth, "But that was for the /runner/." And thus he cracks up. Miss Stone-Face breaks her expressionlessness for a moment of despair.
"Cooking," Ch'son says in a dismissive voice with a wave of his hand. Obviously not what he thinks the brownrider should be doing instead of being here. "Cards, maybe." That's what he'd rather be doing. And he might even ask if his wingmate wants to go try this fun card playing thing about now but instead he's just trying to figure out what to say to the rest of that. "Rights?" he finally decides on, which is probably pretty anticlimactic. "What rights is she wantin'?"
"Oh, but Mae! I wanted to tell you that your dressed look nice!" Nenita calls after the blonde as she flits away. "Damn. I'm going to have to grab her later. I want one of those corset things. Though I don't do dresses as well, I'm too short." She comes back to reality in time to hear all of Ajatha's formal introductions and rolls her eyes. "Oh relax. It's not like you're meeting with the Lord of whatever holds you have up north. It's just us. Just don't break anything while you're here. We just had the place built, right An'dren? It wasn't that long ago that we had the opening party for the pavilion."
"Don't know if I could give you anything like a good run for your marks this evening, but, could try," P'draig claims about cards as he takes another swig from his glass and leans a bit against the farther end of the drinks table, out of the way of people coming to place orders. "Her rights as a mother," he declares with a quiet snort. "The ones she gave up when she walked away."
Since there's already a good deal of partying going on, it's less easy to slip in - but easy enough to do it unnoticed. Especially if you're L'hai. And most especially if you walk in behind some wavering man telling a joke. It probably was a joke. No matter, the bronzerider has moved on, rubbing at hair that's still a touch damp, with the rest of him looking squeaky clean and neatly dressed. His path walks him right by the buffet before he realizes that's what it was. After a few extra strides, he turns right back about and attempts to join the line properly.
"Welcome to Ista," An'dren offers in reply to Ajatha's long introduction. It's way shorter and also way less formal, but hey, it's a party! "Nenita's right; the place wasn't buitl so long ago. Seems pretty sturdy so far, though, so I wouldn't worry too much about breaking it." His attention draws to the Reachian riders coming in, and he adds, "Excuse me. I have someone I should go say hello to. I hope you enjoy yourself." He smiles at the two women before weaving his way towards Z'yi, sparing a nod for L'hai on his way there. "Good evening." This, for the bluerider and his long-suffering companion.
Gabrion strolls through the party - unlike many of the others around him, he hasn't got a drink in his hand. He spots Z'yi and recognizes him, and moves closer - they may not know each other, but they are from the same weyr, and Gabe's seen the rider before. "He bothering you?" he jokes to the woman being subjected to Z'yi's humor, a smirk on his face.
Ajatha doesn't so much deflate a little as she eyes Nenita when she pops her bubble. "Y'never were any fun, kiddo. And -- Hey! I have never broken anything. If I can tend bar at the -Sandbar- and make s'much in tips as I had, y'think I'd've gotten in that habit?" By the sound of it, she rather enjoyed that time at the bar, even slipping back a little into a Southern-cum-Istani lilt to match it. "I never get any fun anymore, Nenny. Rasiyoth's a beast, and the other riders aren't much better with their insanity. How've things been with you and Ista?" She nods as An'dren moves away, though looking over, her brows lift and eyes brighten, a wave sent over her shoulder. "Isziyo!" Great affection in the tone.
Mae grins over her shoulder at Nenita and waves a hand to show she heard the compliment, mouthing back a thanks and then she's right back to her conversation. "Oh yes, ma'am, steel stays," she tells the woman behind her but L'hai's tall enough to stand over the petite greenrider she's talking to and she offers him a shy smile before turning to answer another question. The answer dies on her lips as the boisterous bluerider pulls her attention away. Blink.
Ch'son actually doesn't quite notice his own drink getting served to him right off so it takes him a few moments to pick it up and take a sip. He turns to the mixer with an impressed face, "Good stuff." That'll get a tip. "Could skip the cards and just put it all t'this one here." Drinking is a time-honored way to get over stuff that pisses you off, after all. Or a time-honored way to make you punch whatever pisses you off, maybe. "So tell her to bugger off and go have another one or something."
Hic! Z'yi beams down at his wingmate, and then abruptly straightens, arm dropping, eyes un-glazing. "See, I told you you wouldn't be able to tell," he comments down to her ith a smirk. The straight-faced woman is left to gape after him as he takes one stride, another, reaches out to offer his hand to An'dren. "Weyrleader, sir," because this isn't Z'yi's first trip to Ista, and it's only polite to know certain individuals, isn't it? The brownrider he left flabbergasted is now doing a hard-faced skulk, and just sort of eyes Gabe for a minute. "He's an asshole," she pronounces in a sharply nasal soprano. "A very big asshole." And Isz /completely ignores Ajatha/.
An'dren moves on and Nenita doesn't miss so much as a beat before she sneaks an elbow into the brownrider's ribs. "I'm sure you get to have plenty of fun. It's not my fault you decided to leave us and go with that awful greenrider to that frozen wasteland of a weyr." Don't hold anything back, Nen. "I have lots and lots of fun. Doing different things." She shoots her friend a sly look and then tugs on Ajatha's sleeve, intending to pull them both away from the buffet table, though she pauses when there's a shout to the loud Reaches bluerider. "You know him?" She asks, even as she ducks a look over her shoulder to check out what P'draig and Ch'son are up to.
"Mm, is good," P'draig agrees about the drinks, his own marks left behind on the table's surface. "Could do a that. How many of these do you think we can manage?" the brownrider asks, eyeing his glass, then Ch'son's in turn, actually looking a bit more chipper. "We could bet on that," he says with a low chuckle. "Who goes down first." But then he makes another grimace. "She doesn't want more. You know what? Better not to think about it or I'm going to start to want to hit things and I can count on one how often that's happened to me."
Lots of unfamiliar faces around now. An'dren nods politely at Gabrion, but his focus is for the riders, mostly just because they were there first. "Welcome to Ista," he tells Z'yi, shaking the proferred hand. He'd missed the joke, since really it was the bluerider's size instead of his supposed drunkeness that had caught his attention, but the brownrider's face makes it rather obvious something's amiss. "Here, now," he tells her with a grin. "We can't have you sulking through a party. Have the two of you been here before? The buffet's right over there, and the bar's on that side. Feel free to help yourselves."
"Men are like that," Gabe says very seriously to the brownrider woman. Wise beyond his years, isn't he? He has a polite smile for the Weyrleader, but isn't really looking to be noticed by Weyrleaders any more than he already has been, so he just stands there as inconspicuously as possible.
There's a nod of acknowledgment from L'hai to An'dren, but it might be a little late. When the rider looks back towards the line, he catches what is Mae smiling. Spying carefully to one side then the other, he possibly determines that it is, indeed, aimed at him. A hand raised, he waves it casually at her before she's off and back to her conversation. Movement from Nenita catches his eye and he watches her briefly, charting her course away from the table. But she's also talking. Eventually, he's going to have to interrupt someone.
/Ignored/? Oh, now this will never, ever do. Jathi's eyes widen and then narrow with a spark of something very akin to offence. Instead of bursting out with something, she turns back to smile kindly to Nenita and loops her arm through Nenny's, pretty much claiming the woman for a moment. "Yes, I know him. That's Z'yi. He's a bluerider from my weyrling class. Remember the two I mentioned to you once? My very best pals? Well, that was one of them." Was. Oh, dear. "He's amusing. Go speak with him." Her grip loosens on her friend's arm as she turns to follow eyes, tipping her head to take in Paddy and Ch'son. "Hello, P'draig." From, over there.
Z'yi inclines his chin in a nod to An'dren, "Yes, sir. High Reaches' respects," is his reply, affable in his own manner. He's turning to spy-- the brownrider making polite niceties with An'dren, "Oh, food?" with a brightening of otherwise dour regard, and a quick, "Thank you!" before the tall woman makes her way... food-ways. Z'yi squints over to Gabe, now, since his escort's done left him. "Say what, now?" Z'yi obviously doesn't realize that Impending Doom(tm) aka Ajatha's Wrath (aka Z'yi's End) is coming, in that slow-mo manner that all proper scary movie villains approach their fleeing victims. Obviously. "Did I miss something?" That was to Gabe. About Lelora's quick departure, likely.
"Three," Ch'son chuckles, lifting up his glass so he can look at it through the light. "They're pretty strong. And, y'know, last time I made a bet like that, I lost t'Skinner." /Skinner./ That just seems wrong and it's clear by the tone of his voice. "Hittin' stuff makes me feel better." Which he's proven on occasion. "Two marks says y'go down first," he offers and holds out his hand for P'draig to either accept or decline. Except right around then he's turning his head to look in the direction of the brownrider's name being said. "You get around, man," he adds a moment later.
"Was?" Nenita catches on that right away just as she's catching onto the bluerider's possibly compromised state. "I think that I'll just take a pass on that, but thank you." The blonde is given a wry grin and nudges her in the ribs again. "Remember the one that I mentioned from weyrlinghood or candidacy or whatever? That's him. You know, the one that isn't P'draig." Who she just called over. She smiles at the brownrider if and when his attention is caught. Turning over her shoulder to look at the pair of rider's has her catching sight of L'hai standing over there. "Oh! L'hai!" And her hand lifts to get his attention.
"The stuffed clams aren't ready yet, but I'd recommend giving them a try once they are," An'dren tells Z'yi. With that as his farewell of sorts, he escorts the Reachian brownrider halfway to the buffet table, then motions her on and makes his way over to L'hai, who seems to be just standing there watching people. Andy's only a few feet away when Nenita hails the other bronzerider, and he comes up short, looking a little awkward for a second or two with his plate in hand and his gaze flitting between Nenita and L'hai.
Gabrion grins brightly at Z'yi. "Hi!" he says. "She didn't like you very much, I think. The word 'asshole' came up. But, you know. Women are like that." He shrugs one shoulder, and once again he grins. "I know I've seen you before. I'm Gabe." And he sticks out his hand.
"Hm. All right, we'll see how we do. Three each. Last man standing?" P'draig proposes to Ch'son then shakes his head a couple of times. "/Skinner/?" Disbelief on his face. "This might not be a fair contest then. But we'll tell them to mix them strong." The drink-makers indicated again even as he clasps hands with Ch'son. "Deal." His name floats through the crowd and Paddy turns, laughs. "Not with her," he notes to Ch'son with a shake of his head, but he waves Ajatha's way, gestures her over even. "Ajatha! Nice to see you," called loudly enough to be heard.
Z'yi grins after An'dren. "I'll remember that," regarding the clams. Meanwhile, he's big on the handshakes, so Gabe gets an approving smile and a firm shake in reply. "Ah. Well, I guess I was, in a manner of speaking," he replies in his tried-and-true High Reaches rumble. "Gotta love 'em. Can't live with 'em, can't live without them," that would be his take on women. Or maybe assholes? Who knows. "Z'yi," by way of self-intro, "Good to meet you, Gabe." His eyes narrow in obvious thought, and he ventures-- "Infirmary?" as a hazard'd guess. The word is stated almost warily. Healers suck. Unless they're Madilla, but she doesn't really count.
Technically, L'hai was all prepared to stand in line and get food like normal people do at a party, but then things got all visually distracting. He lifts his chin a bit to respond to Nenita's hand wave, since he was already looking in that direction, then takes his first step out of the line. This puts him even closer to the once-approaching An'dren, who he happens to spot more out of coincidence at this point. There's a flicker of a friendly expression since their eyes meet. Then his own gaze drops to the held plate. "Oh, is it good, then? I was just about to--" A forlorn glance to the buffet. "But then--" A more positive look towards Nenita.
"Was," Ajatha provides for her goldrider-friend and turns upon her heel once she's motioned over, leaving the woman to see to the new face with relative ease, and without her looped arm. "Oh, is it? Hmmm." Over her shoulder, of course. She moves over to the other brownrider's side and dips her head slightly. "Paddy. How're you? Hello." More calmly, for Ch'son.
Stuffed clams? Damn those clams. It must have been An'dren mentioning them in her general vicinity because now Nenita starts to stop and twists around to look at the buffet line once again. She slips her arm out from the brownrider's waist and puts her hands on her shoulder, using her as a balancing point as she gets on her tippytoes and starts trying to look over other people to the activity beyond. "I'm sorry. I need to see what's happening with the food."
On the servers side of the line there sounds like there might be some arguing going on. Her expression becomes serious and she leaves Ajatha to Ch'son and P'draig, passes L'hai (who she pats on the arm!) and An'dren to take care of whatever developing problem is developing.
"I work there, yeah," Gabe says. "Healer apprentice." But he didn't bring his redwort and bandages with him tonight. "Was born at 'Reaches, though," he adds, and changes the subject. "Did you just get here? It looks like a pretty good party. I don't know most of these people, though."
"Last man standin'. Strong." The last to the one making the drinks in the very likely case that they aren't following the conversation too closely. Ch'son is looking over toward Ajatha again but, hey, she's coming this way, too, so he just keeps watching. "Hey, gorgeous," he offers as his own greeting and then his gaze returns to P'draig with one bushy brow arched incredulously, "Why /not,/ man?" Back to Ajatha, "You only like women?" Straightforward if nothing else.
An'dren returns the friendly expression with one of his own, though since friendly is pretty much his default look, he tacks on a smile for good measure. "Wouldn't know," he says. "I haven't had a chance to try any of it yet. It smells good, at least." He watches Nenita approach and then veer off towards the server side of the buffet, and his brow knits. "Clams," he offers to L'hai, and the way he says it makes it sound like it's supposed to be some sort of explanation.
Z'yi finally swings about to pass his eyes over the crowd. "Oh, were you?" A vague squint to Gabe, as if Z'yi should know him, eleven turns between them be damned. He gives up fairly quickly. "Yeah, when Lel just abandoned me," about just getting here. "See anyone interesting?" His gaze stops abruptly on the most beautiful blonde in the room (if you were to ask him /his/ opinion, t'least) talking to a couple of slackers at the bar. "Should have thought Jathi'd be here," he murmurs more to himself, then glancing back over to Gabe. "Want to get some grub?" He gestures with his chin over yonder, towards the buffet. "If you feel up to the challenge of wading through these maniacs," almost cheerful.
"All right then," P'draig says and in the spirit of things, orders another drink, finishes off the one in his hand. The 'why' from Chaes is acknowledged with a little shake of Paddy's head. "She wasn't the one who caught my eyes," he murmurs just as the Reaches rider reaches them. "Hey Ajatha, this is Ch'son, bronze Taineth's. Ch'son, Ajatha. She used to live and work here and got stolen off to /my/ home weyr and impressed a brown. How's he doing by the way?" This to Jathi with a grin.
"Sure!" Gabe says brightly to Z'yi. "...how about I just follow right behind you?" The difference in size between them is almost comical, but it does mean that Gabe should have no trouble walking in the bluerider's wake. "You're in Snowdrift, right? My dad flies in your wing. Bluerider."
"Hardly an indication, but not a terrible sign, all told," L'hai replies with some seriousness towards the matter of eating versus smelling food. He side-steps a bit when he's patted on the arm, startled, but not for long when Nenita is recognized to be the cause. Oh, but where's she going... He watches after her until An'dren's supposed explanation pulls attention back that way. The word fails its cause, because the other bronzerider looks at him, looks at the plate, and back up. Then, as politely as possible, but with some firmness: "No, it's not."
Ajatha can handle straightforward pretty easily, if nothing else. Her brows don't even lift one single fraction, though her smile broadens into a wide, sly hint of a smile at Ch'son. "Hi, handsome. Oh, no, I very much like men. Always find women lack a little something, though I'm quite sure they are fine. How about you?" There goes that brow in a light raise, her head tipping to the side slightly with a find song of bells and beads in one of those few braids that pepper her honey-pale hair. She loops her arm companionably through Paddy's arm with a fond bat at his shoulder. "Hey, you. Kip looking after my bar lately? Oh, that old hunk of ice is fine. Chilly as always. How's yours?"
Apparently the issue wasn't the clams. They're not ready! It seems like someone bumped into someone else and dumped sauce on their white shirt. And those two someones were quite ready to beat the snot out of each other over this seemingly not-so-big problem. That is until Nenita came along, stamped her foot and smacked someone in the back of the head and they were sent home. With the issue nipped in the behind, the goldrider now finds herself on the serving side of the table with several people from High Reaches approaching along the line. She eyeballs these people before starting to work her way /back/ now through the workers, but it's slow going as she tries not to knock anything over.
"I've always felt there wasn't much of a point in something smelling good if it wasn't going to taste good, too," An'dren replies. He shifts the plate from one hand to the other but, for politeness' sake, doesn't take a bite of anything. He follows L'hai's gaze down to his food, and when he looks back up, his expression's one of friendly confusion. "It's not?" But apparently L'hai was right, it's not, even if the two of them weren't exactly talking about the same thing, because here's Nenita trying to make her way back out of the serving line. Andy nods at L'hai and says, "Go grab a plate. Don't let me keep you." And just in case the other bronzerider might hang around so long as he was, the Weyrleader strides -- well, pushes, mostly -- to the buffet to try to help Nenita out.
His own drink is thrown back and Ch'son makes a gesture for another one as he sets the empty down. "Ajatha," he says her name. "Well met," he says, then continues with a grin, "Just women for me. Ain't lackin' nothin' at all. But it's good t'hear. Be a shame if you were completely off limits." When he gets his next drink, he picks it up to take a small gulp and he listens to the exchange between brownriders with something even resembling curiosity until his gaze slips off to the side for a moment to see who's around.
Grinning at Ajatha's approach to Ch'son, P'draig reaches to secure his second grink and lets the blonde loop her arm companionably through his. "Kip is doing just fine yes. I cook for him twice a seven, though I'm looking at opening my own place," he informs his fellow brownrider. "Things are pretty good here," Paddy says mildly. "Ch'son and I have a bet going about who'll drop first over these very nice strong drinks they're mixing." Beat. "You in? The bet's 2 marks."
Nenita grumbles her entire way down the servers side of the table, aiming a particularly annoyed look at someone that gets in her way until they move. The sight of the Weyrleader down at the end coming to her rescue must have some sort of pull because the remaining obstacles seem to edge away looking a little nervous. "They were going to beat each other over sauce! Sauce on their shirts! Never again teenagers at a party like this. Don't let me forget." She tells An'dren when she's finally out of the crowd. "I'm going to write it down, have it etched in stone."
"Well, aren't you a charmer," Ajatha grants to Ch'son with a smirk and relatively easily scoops out one hand to beckon a drink, pilfering it herself after a moment. "Jathi, if you prefer, too. Good." To Paddy, of course. "I hope he hasn't forgotten me and all that -- you're opening your own place?" That seems to be something that she hasn't heard, her interest sparked upon the Istan brownrider. "Ooh, you know I love a good bet." She leans to look over Ch'son more pointedly now and considers, as though estimating his limit. "I'm in, boys."
Z'yi has disconnected.
It's probably the height. The Weyrleader's too skinny to loom properly, but in this room full of tall people, he might be a little more visible than the Weyrwoman. "No more teenagers," An'dren agrees. "You could write it down on Loe's board. It's not as permanent as etching it in stone, maybe, but I think it's about as effective." He nods towards the buffet. "Have you eaten yet? If not, would you be opposed to having dinner with me? The party's going strong, and I think it can look after itself for a few minutes."
When P'draig invites the woman, the smaller woman, into their bet, Ch'son is left looking at her a little more carefully and with a little less leering in his blue eyes. His considering of Ajatha is intense of enough that the tip of his tongue stays poked out of his mouth when he goes to lick his lips. But then he blinks back to focus and lifts his glass in a cheers sort of gesture. "Chaes, if y'prefer," he returns. Then he glances at P'draig like he's doubting this blonde's ability to hold liquor.
"Watch yourself with this one," P'draig tells Ch'son with a brief wry pull to his mouth and knocks back his second drink in a couple of gulps and some muttered cussing. "Ajatha, sorry to bail, it's -- complicated. Ch'son, rain check on the rest of this bet. Now she's come here and she's trying to get Palia to -- shardit!" Thundercloud again as Paddy unlaces his arm from Ajatha's and goes striding off with a distinctly less-than-pleased countenance to sort things out with his ex and his daughter.
"I'll etch it in stone and have it posted permanently in the kitchen." Nenita informs him, stepping out from behind the table. His question has her looking at the food this time with a much less critical and irritated expression crossing her face. Instead it's almost speculative. Near to quiet, "Oh, no. I haven't yet. You haven't either?" She glances back towards him before she leans in and snatches a plate, piling several easy to eat items onto it. "I guess we can eat and I hope that it can." There's a laugh and just a hint of nervousness to it before she dares move away from the serving line.
When: Evening, day 9, month 9, turn 21 of the 10th interval
Where: Garden Pavilion, Ista Weyr
What: There's a party going on, but Paddy's mood is less-than-good due to some kerfluffle with his ex. Still, he manages to have a short good time with Ch'son and Ajatha over drinks.
Theme of the party: Your Rarely Used Icon. Folks who were able were to make a pose or theme the RP to a rarely used LJ icon and actually use it. Of all of Paddy's, the one that gets used the least is Angry Face. Therefore all the pissy.
Garden Pavilion, Ista Weyr(#1904RJ)
The sweep of lush green grass brings the eye to the pavilion, built square in the middle of the lawn. Tall, heavy wooden columns ensnared by the steady growth of Istan white flower-vines, leads to the slate grey roofing. Colorful vegetation grows all along the perimeter, kept healthy and orderly by frequent gardening.
The pavilion itself provides an open, covered space for dining tables or dancing and the flagstones continuing outward form patio for overflow, allowing varied configurations to suit any gathering. To one side is the cooking station with a few simple counters for prep and serving, several small grills and one large one and a bar that that stands unstocked when there's no party in progress. All around the structure and the surrounding area, stretching overhead, are strings of glass globes for glowlight and other festive decorations.
An'dren's here, and dressed appropriately for the event. He arrived sometime after the buffet but before most of the crowd, and now he's standing at a corner of the pavilion, a plate in hand and head slightly bent towards the bluerider talking animatedly to him. His plate is mostly full, despite his having hit the tables almost as soon as he'd stepped foot beneath the roof, but he manages to look convincingly interested in whatever the other rider's talking about. There's barely any longing at all in the sidelong glance towards his food.
As more people come wandering in to join the party, Nenita takes a step off to the side to wipe her forehead. She leans against the rail and gives the growing crowd an appraising look. Then she gives the food that's cooking a very similar look and holds her fingers up, doing some sort of math on them. Hopefully the food won't run out? The goldrider eventually pushes off and works her way to the buffet line, intent on sneaking through. She notices Mae on her way by and gives the weaver a friendly smile and wave, her eyes dropping to take in the sight of her dress. Ch'son gets a very similar wave but she doesn't seem too interested in his clothes, go figure.
The wet summer season oppresses the island with high humidity and sweltering temperatures. Tonight, the clear sky is alight with stars and the air hardly moves more than a whisper.
Who could blame the Weyrwoman? Mae's dress is probably more up her alley than Ch'son's orange sash thing. The weaver lifts a hand to twiddle fingers cheerfully at the passing woman and sends another glance around the pavillion before she decides to simply join a table at random, sinking into it and smiling cheerful.
Flapping his shirt as he walks towards the party, given that the weather is still sweltering," P'draig does not look quite as easy-going as usual. In fact there's hints of tension in the way he carries himself, though the brownrider promptly stops to chat with the cooks as he comes into the general area, listening and nodding. He keeps that up for a few minutes, then joins the press of the crowd, working his way through it towards where the /drinks/ are being served. Though neat and tidy and a notch up from his usual garb, Paddy's shirt and pants probably wouldn't be called fancy.
An'dren listens politely to the bluerider for a few more minutes, then excuses himself with something or other about needing to speak to the Weyrwoman. And he does, true to word, make his way over to Nenita in the buffet line, though once he gets there, he just smiles at her and says, "Evening. You really do host some amazing parties."
Nenita doesn't seem to be actually on the line to get anything though. She's simply squished herself in between the warm bodies so that she can eyeball what's been laid out on the table. Her eyebrows narrow and her shoulders tense, the tell-tale sign of a woman ready to wind herself up. It's then that An'dren's voice catches her and she reacts with surprise, turning quickly around to look at him. "Oh, thank you. I'm sorry, I didn't realize that you were right there. Am I in your way? Are you looking for something to eat? I'm not actually eating." It's a ramble as she steps back from the line, trying to get out of the way of traffic a little.
The orange sash thing is a trademark! Really. Or just one of those things that Ch'son thinks is way more awesome than it really is. His gaze is caught for more than a few moments by the weaver and he returns the acknowledging wave from Nenita with one of his own. But he's not going to approach either and he's had a lot of practice with this checking chicks out business so he can do that discreetly while he goes to find himself a drink. "Hey, man," he says to P'draig there since, well, he's there.
Up come gray-blue eyes and P'draig focuses on Ch'son, manfully banishes much of what looks like a thundercloud hanging over his mood. "Hey, Ch'son. Had a chance to sample yet?" the brownrider asks, chin jerking towards the busy business of drink-mixing going on. "I need a strong one tonight, I think." Breath out, pause and a look around. "Hopping party, hm?"
An'dren steps back quickly when Nenita does, giving her room to maneuver out of the line. "I just got here," he reassures her, though his eyebrows are raised and his expression overall is a bit bewildered by her reaction. "I just came by to say hi. Am I interrupting something? I could come find you later, if this is a bad time." He shuffles another step backwards and adds, "I should probably sit down, actually. I feel like I'm just getting in the way here."
Mae spends a few minutes talking to the people at the table before she's bouncing up again, ready to move on. She notices P'draig and Ch'son over there by the drinks, but it's towards the buffet table she heads next. A look-over is given An'dren as she approaches he and Nenita. "Quite the party, eh?" she greets them both almost breathlessly.
Here's a sight for sore eyes. While none might have noticed that whole shuddering display of brown-ice making a subtle exit from nowhere at all in the sky, the passenger soon makes their appearance known with a little flutter of her skirt as Ajatha makes her way into the pavillion. Her tan might be a little lighter than before, but her hair and eyes are still the same, her steps announced with the wild song of the clacking of beads and bells interwoven into her hair. Rather than hanging at the back, she watches and moves right through the crush, toward a familiar body. An arm swings out and pretty much wraps the waist of a certain Weyrwoman. "Nenny, did you miss me?"
Ch'son is not so completely oblivious as all that. He considers P'draig for just a moment before nodding his agreement to the drink-maker person. "Strong one sounds good." Back to the brownrider, he shrugs and turns to look at said party, "I ain't really a party person. Specially the stuff where I'm 'spected to stay on my best behavior and--" He lifts a hand to his slightly scruffy face. "Well, didn't shave." His blue eyes turn back to P'draig and he asks, "Y'good?"
It's probably the bewildered expression on An'dren's face that has her taking a breath and forcing some sort of relaxtion through her muscles. "Oh, no. You're not interrupting anything, you're not in the way, I was just checking on some things. I guess they're not ready yet and I thought that they would be. Stuffed clams. A delay on the stuffed clams." Why this is even remotely important or urgent might only make sense to her or another food person. She begins turning away from the poor Weyrleader to stare back at the table and is then double surprised by the sudden appearance of two tall blonde women. One of which is touching her. "Ajatha!" Nenita laughs and slips an arm around her waist. "This is An'dren and Mae, our newest weaver. And this is well, Ajatha. She used to live here before deserting us." No need to be slow on the introductions it would seem.
When two more people join their particular section of the buffet, An'dren takes yet another step back, though he smiles when introductions are made. "Ajatha," he says. "I think I remember you. You ride for Reaches now, don't you?" That last bit's probably provided by Riuth, who's really quite a handy cheatsheet. Mae gets a nod of greeting and a somewhat belated, "It really is. Quite the party." That last bit's tacked on just in case she's lost track of what she'd originally asked.
"I'd rather be cooking right now," P'draig confesses with a wry grin for Ch'son and takes a glass of something maybe unidentifiable, but definitely /strong/ when it's done being prepared. Promptly, the brownrider swigs from the glass, nods. "I don't think this one is so fancy it'd require a shave," he muses aloud then makes a little face. "Will be once I get a few of these, I guess. Palia's mother is ..." he waves a hand vaguely and frustration creases his forehead. "Seven turns go by and she's been happy to mostly not see her except for the odd visit and now she's making a stink about her rights."
Ajatha puffs up something awful while she's being introduced and dips into quite the theatrical curtsey - as much as her short skirt will allow it. Oops. But before she can say anything to the other two, she glances at Nenita and squints an eye at her. "I didn't desert you. You know good any well that it was all that Gr'kaif's fault." -Everything- was Kaif's fault. But abruptly, she straightens slightly and takes on a very formal tone. Maybe it's An'dren's reminder, or maybe it's something she hears from her dearly-not-here partner-in-crime-of-the-draconic-kind. "I am, of course, Ajatha of High Reaches Weyr. Rider of the illustrious brown Rasiyoth of the Avalanche Wing. High Reaches' duties to Ista Weyr and her queens." Such grandeur, one would think that she was a great Holder's daughter, or a freaking goldrider herself. It's all them cocky airs around her.
Mae bobs her head to An'dren and Ajatha in turn, chirping brightly, "Great to meet you both!" Ajatha is given a particularly long eye, or specifically, her hair. "What an interesting idea." The tall weaver tips her head to the side, and then her attention flutters away again. Too many people, clearly, too much to do, little miss social butterfly flutters back towards the food line and promptly strikes up a conversation with the person who gets in line behind her.
For those just one the scene: By the buffet line, Nenita and An'dren have been exchanging pleasentaries and have recently been joined by Mae and Ajatha. The trio of harpers playing songs are still playing songs and the people cooking food at the grill are still doing that, though they're beginning to look a little haggard trying to keep up with the demand for fresh-whatever-it-is they're making fresh. By the bar is P'draig and Ch'son who seem to be talking about something that's making the brownrider want to get totally wasted. And that's where we are right now!
ATTENTION EVERYONE. The party is allowed to start now. Z'yi has entered the building. No, seriously. The bluerider enters with only a bit of his swag on, one arm slung around the neck of one of his wingmates-- a very pretty, but very severe-faced young woman who looks seriously strained at having to put up with what appears to be a very jovially toasted Z'yi. "And then I said to him," the deep bass of the typically quiet Isz rumbles forth, "But that was for the /runner/." And thus he cracks up. Miss Stone-Face breaks her expressionlessness for a moment of despair.
"Cooking," Ch'son says in a dismissive voice with a wave of his hand. Obviously not what he thinks the brownrider should be doing instead of being here. "Cards, maybe." That's what he'd rather be doing. And he might even ask if his wingmate wants to go try this fun card playing thing about now but instead he's just trying to figure out what to say to the rest of that. "Rights?" he finally decides on, which is probably pretty anticlimactic. "What rights is she wantin'?"
"Oh, but Mae! I wanted to tell you that your dressed look nice!" Nenita calls after the blonde as she flits away. "Damn. I'm going to have to grab her later. I want one of those corset things. Though I don't do dresses as well, I'm too short." She comes back to reality in time to hear all of Ajatha's formal introductions and rolls her eyes. "Oh relax. It's not like you're meeting with the Lord of whatever holds you have up north. It's just us. Just don't break anything while you're here. We just had the place built, right An'dren? It wasn't that long ago that we had the opening party for the pavilion."
"Don't know if I could give you anything like a good run for your marks this evening, but, could try," P'draig claims about cards as he takes another swig from his glass and leans a bit against the farther end of the drinks table, out of the way of people coming to place orders. "Her rights as a mother," he declares with a quiet snort. "The ones she gave up when she walked away."
Since there's already a good deal of partying going on, it's less easy to slip in - but easy enough to do it unnoticed. Especially if you're L'hai. And most especially if you walk in behind some wavering man telling a joke. It probably was a joke. No matter, the bronzerider has moved on, rubbing at hair that's still a touch damp, with the rest of him looking squeaky clean and neatly dressed. His path walks him right by the buffet before he realizes that's what it was. After a few extra strides, he turns right back about and attempts to join the line properly.
"Welcome to Ista," An'dren offers in reply to Ajatha's long introduction. It's way shorter and also way less formal, but hey, it's a party! "Nenita's right; the place wasn't buitl so long ago. Seems pretty sturdy so far, though, so I wouldn't worry too much about breaking it." His attention draws to the Reachian riders coming in, and he adds, "Excuse me. I have someone I should go say hello to. I hope you enjoy yourself." He smiles at the two women before weaving his way towards Z'yi, sparing a nod for L'hai on his way there. "Good evening." This, for the bluerider and his long-suffering companion.
Gabrion strolls through the party - unlike many of the others around him, he hasn't got a drink in his hand. He spots Z'yi and recognizes him, and moves closer - they may not know each other, but they are from the same weyr, and Gabe's seen the rider before. "He bothering you?" he jokes to the woman being subjected to Z'yi's humor, a smirk on his face.
Ajatha doesn't so much deflate a little as she eyes Nenita when she pops her bubble. "Y'never were any fun, kiddo. And -- Hey! I have never broken anything. If I can tend bar at the -Sandbar- and make s'much in tips as I had, y'think I'd've gotten in that habit?" By the sound of it, she rather enjoyed that time at the bar, even slipping back a little into a Southern-cum-Istani lilt to match it. "I never get any fun anymore, Nenny. Rasiyoth's a beast, and the other riders aren't much better with their insanity. How've things been with you and Ista?" She nods as An'dren moves away, though looking over, her brows lift and eyes brighten, a wave sent over her shoulder. "Isziyo!" Great affection in the tone.
Mae grins over her shoulder at Nenita and waves a hand to show she heard the compliment, mouthing back a thanks and then she's right back to her conversation. "Oh yes, ma'am, steel stays," she tells the woman behind her but L'hai's tall enough to stand over the petite greenrider she's talking to and she offers him a shy smile before turning to answer another question. The answer dies on her lips as the boisterous bluerider pulls her attention away. Blink.
Ch'son actually doesn't quite notice his own drink getting served to him right off so it takes him a few moments to pick it up and take a sip. He turns to the mixer with an impressed face, "Good stuff." That'll get a tip. "Could skip the cards and just put it all t'this one here." Drinking is a time-honored way to get over stuff that pisses you off, after all. Or a time-honored way to make you punch whatever pisses you off, maybe. "So tell her to bugger off and go have another one or something."
Hic! Z'yi beams down at his wingmate, and then abruptly straightens, arm dropping, eyes un-glazing. "See, I told you you wouldn't be able to tell," he comments down to her ith a smirk. The straight-faced woman is left to gape after him as he takes one stride, another, reaches out to offer his hand to An'dren. "Weyrleader, sir," because this isn't Z'yi's first trip to Ista, and it's only polite to know certain individuals, isn't it? The brownrider he left flabbergasted is now doing a hard-faced skulk, and just sort of eyes Gabe for a minute. "He's an asshole," she pronounces in a sharply nasal soprano. "A very big asshole." And Isz /completely ignores Ajatha/.
An'dren moves on and Nenita doesn't miss so much as a beat before she sneaks an elbow into the brownrider's ribs. "I'm sure you get to have plenty of fun. It's not my fault you decided to leave us and go with that awful greenrider to that frozen wasteland of a weyr." Don't hold anything back, Nen. "I have lots and lots of fun. Doing different things." She shoots her friend a sly look and then tugs on Ajatha's sleeve, intending to pull them both away from the buffet table, though she pauses when there's a shout to the loud Reaches bluerider. "You know him?" She asks, even as she ducks a look over her shoulder to check out what P'draig and Ch'son are up to.
"Mm, is good," P'draig agrees about the drinks, his own marks left behind on the table's surface. "Could do a that. How many of these do you think we can manage?" the brownrider asks, eyeing his glass, then Ch'son's in turn, actually looking a bit more chipper. "We could bet on that," he says with a low chuckle. "Who goes down first." But then he makes another grimace. "She doesn't want more. You know what? Better not to think about it or I'm going to start to want to hit things and I can count on one how often that's happened to me."
Lots of unfamiliar faces around now. An'dren nods politely at Gabrion, but his focus is for the riders, mostly just because they were there first. "Welcome to Ista," he tells Z'yi, shaking the proferred hand. He'd missed the joke, since really it was the bluerider's size instead of his supposed drunkeness that had caught his attention, but the brownrider's face makes it rather obvious something's amiss. "Here, now," he tells her with a grin. "We can't have you sulking through a party. Have the two of you been here before? The buffet's right over there, and the bar's on that side. Feel free to help yourselves."
"Men are like that," Gabe says very seriously to the brownrider woman. Wise beyond his years, isn't he? He has a polite smile for the Weyrleader, but isn't really looking to be noticed by Weyrleaders any more than he already has been, so he just stands there as inconspicuously as possible.
There's a nod of acknowledgment from L'hai to An'dren, but it might be a little late. When the rider looks back towards the line, he catches what is Mae smiling. Spying carefully to one side then the other, he possibly determines that it is, indeed, aimed at him. A hand raised, he waves it casually at her before she's off and back to her conversation. Movement from Nenita catches his eye and he watches her briefly, charting her course away from the table. But she's also talking. Eventually, he's going to have to interrupt someone.
/Ignored/? Oh, now this will never, ever do. Jathi's eyes widen and then narrow with a spark of something very akin to offence. Instead of bursting out with something, she turns back to smile kindly to Nenita and loops her arm through Nenny's, pretty much claiming the woman for a moment. "Yes, I know him. That's Z'yi. He's a bluerider from my weyrling class. Remember the two I mentioned to you once? My very best pals? Well, that was one of them." Was. Oh, dear. "He's amusing. Go speak with him." Her grip loosens on her friend's arm as she turns to follow eyes, tipping her head to take in Paddy and Ch'son. "Hello, P'draig." From, over there.
Z'yi inclines his chin in a nod to An'dren, "Yes, sir. High Reaches' respects," is his reply, affable in his own manner. He's turning to spy-- the brownrider making polite niceties with An'dren, "Oh, food?" with a brightening of otherwise dour regard, and a quick, "Thank you!" before the tall woman makes her way... food-ways. Z'yi squints over to Gabe, now, since his escort's done left him. "Say what, now?" Z'yi obviously doesn't realize that Impending Doom(tm) aka Ajatha's Wrath (aka Z'yi's End) is coming, in that slow-mo manner that all proper scary movie villains approach their fleeing victims. Obviously. "Did I miss something?" That was to Gabe. About Lelora's quick departure, likely.
"Three," Ch'son chuckles, lifting up his glass so he can look at it through the light. "They're pretty strong. And, y'know, last time I made a bet like that, I lost t'Skinner." /Skinner./ That just seems wrong and it's clear by the tone of his voice. "Hittin' stuff makes me feel better." Which he's proven on occasion. "Two marks says y'go down first," he offers and holds out his hand for P'draig to either accept or decline. Except right around then he's turning his head to look in the direction of the brownrider's name being said. "You get around, man," he adds a moment later.
"Was?" Nenita catches on that right away just as she's catching onto the bluerider's possibly compromised state. "I think that I'll just take a pass on that, but thank you." The blonde is given a wry grin and nudges her in the ribs again. "Remember the one that I mentioned from weyrlinghood or candidacy or whatever? That's him. You know, the one that isn't P'draig." Who she just called over. She smiles at the brownrider if and when his attention is caught. Turning over her shoulder to look at the pair of rider's has her catching sight of L'hai standing over there. "Oh! L'hai!" And her hand lifts to get his attention.
"The stuffed clams aren't ready yet, but I'd recommend giving them a try once they are," An'dren tells Z'yi. With that as his farewell of sorts, he escorts the Reachian brownrider halfway to the buffet table, then motions her on and makes his way over to L'hai, who seems to be just standing there watching people. Andy's only a few feet away when Nenita hails the other bronzerider, and he comes up short, looking a little awkward for a second or two with his plate in hand and his gaze flitting between Nenita and L'hai.
Gabrion grins brightly at Z'yi. "Hi!" he says. "She didn't like you very much, I think. The word 'asshole' came up. But, you know. Women are like that." He shrugs one shoulder, and once again he grins. "I know I've seen you before. I'm Gabe." And he sticks out his hand.
"Hm. All right, we'll see how we do. Three each. Last man standing?" P'draig proposes to Ch'son then shakes his head a couple of times. "/Skinner/?" Disbelief on his face. "This might not be a fair contest then. But we'll tell them to mix them strong." The drink-makers indicated again even as he clasps hands with Ch'son. "Deal." His name floats through the crowd and Paddy turns, laughs. "Not with her," he notes to Ch'son with a shake of his head, but he waves Ajatha's way, gestures her over even. "Ajatha! Nice to see you," called loudly enough to be heard.
Z'yi grins after An'dren. "I'll remember that," regarding the clams. Meanwhile, he's big on the handshakes, so Gabe gets an approving smile and a firm shake in reply. "Ah. Well, I guess I was, in a manner of speaking," he replies in his tried-and-true High Reaches rumble. "Gotta love 'em. Can't live with 'em, can't live without them," that would be his take on women. Or maybe assholes? Who knows. "Z'yi," by way of self-intro, "Good to meet you, Gabe." His eyes narrow in obvious thought, and he ventures-- "Infirmary?" as a hazard'd guess. The word is stated almost warily. Healers suck. Unless they're Madilla, but she doesn't really count.
Technically, L'hai was all prepared to stand in line and get food like normal people do at a party, but then things got all visually distracting. He lifts his chin a bit to respond to Nenita's hand wave, since he was already looking in that direction, then takes his first step out of the line. This puts him even closer to the once-approaching An'dren, who he happens to spot more out of coincidence at this point. There's a flicker of a friendly expression since their eyes meet. Then his own gaze drops to the held plate. "Oh, is it good, then? I was just about to--" A forlorn glance to the buffet. "But then--" A more positive look towards Nenita.
"Was," Ajatha provides for her goldrider-friend and turns upon her heel once she's motioned over, leaving the woman to see to the new face with relative ease, and without her looped arm. "Oh, is it? Hmmm." Over her shoulder, of course. She moves over to the other brownrider's side and dips her head slightly. "Paddy. How're you? Hello." More calmly, for Ch'son.
Stuffed clams? Damn those clams. It must have been An'dren mentioning them in her general vicinity because now Nenita starts to stop and twists around to look at the buffet line once again. She slips her arm out from the brownrider's waist and puts her hands on her shoulder, using her as a balancing point as she gets on her tippytoes and starts trying to look over other people to the activity beyond. "I'm sorry. I need to see what's happening with the food."
On the servers side of the line there sounds like there might be some arguing going on. Her expression becomes serious and she leaves Ajatha to Ch'son and P'draig, passes L'hai (who she pats on the arm!) and An'dren to take care of whatever developing problem is developing.
"I work there, yeah," Gabe says. "Healer apprentice." But he didn't bring his redwort and bandages with him tonight. "Was born at 'Reaches, though," he adds, and changes the subject. "Did you just get here? It looks like a pretty good party. I don't know most of these people, though."
"Last man standin'. Strong." The last to the one making the drinks in the very likely case that they aren't following the conversation too closely. Ch'son is looking over toward Ajatha again but, hey, she's coming this way, too, so he just keeps watching. "Hey, gorgeous," he offers as his own greeting and then his gaze returns to P'draig with one bushy brow arched incredulously, "Why /not,/ man?" Back to Ajatha, "You only like women?" Straightforward if nothing else.
An'dren returns the friendly expression with one of his own, though since friendly is pretty much his default look, he tacks on a smile for good measure. "Wouldn't know," he says. "I haven't had a chance to try any of it yet. It smells good, at least." He watches Nenita approach and then veer off towards the server side of the buffet, and his brow knits. "Clams," he offers to L'hai, and the way he says it makes it sound like it's supposed to be some sort of explanation.
Z'yi finally swings about to pass his eyes over the crowd. "Oh, were you?" A vague squint to Gabe, as if Z'yi should know him, eleven turns between them be damned. He gives up fairly quickly. "Yeah, when Lel just abandoned me," about just getting here. "See anyone interesting?" His gaze stops abruptly on the most beautiful blonde in the room (if you were to ask him /his/ opinion, t'least) talking to a couple of slackers at the bar. "Should have thought Jathi'd be here," he murmurs more to himself, then glancing back over to Gabe. "Want to get some grub?" He gestures with his chin over yonder, towards the buffet. "If you feel up to the challenge of wading through these maniacs," almost cheerful.
"All right then," P'draig says and in the spirit of things, orders another drink, finishes off the one in his hand. The 'why' from Chaes is acknowledged with a little shake of Paddy's head. "She wasn't the one who caught my eyes," he murmurs just as the Reaches rider reaches them. "Hey Ajatha, this is Ch'son, bronze Taineth's. Ch'son, Ajatha. She used to live and work here and got stolen off to /my/ home weyr and impressed a brown. How's he doing by the way?" This to Jathi with a grin.
"Sure!" Gabe says brightly to Z'yi. "...how about I just follow right behind you?" The difference in size between them is almost comical, but it does mean that Gabe should have no trouble walking in the bluerider's wake. "You're in Snowdrift, right? My dad flies in your wing. Bluerider."
"Hardly an indication, but not a terrible sign, all told," L'hai replies with some seriousness towards the matter of eating versus smelling food. He side-steps a bit when he's patted on the arm, startled, but not for long when Nenita is recognized to be the cause. Oh, but where's she going... He watches after her until An'dren's supposed explanation pulls attention back that way. The word fails its cause, because the other bronzerider looks at him, looks at the plate, and back up. Then, as politely as possible, but with some firmness: "No, it's not."
Ajatha can handle straightforward pretty easily, if nothing else. Her brows don't even lift one single fraction, though her smile broadens into a wide, sly hint of a smile at Ch'son. "Hi, handsome. Oh, no, I very much like men. Always find women lack a little something, though I'm quite sure they are fine. How about you?" There goes that brow in a light raise, her head tipping to the side slightly with a find song of bells and beads in one of those few braids that pepper her honey-pale hair. She loops her arm companionably through Paddy's arm with a fond bat at his shoulder. "Hey, you. Kip looking after my bar lately? Oh, that old hunk of ice is fine. Chilly as always. How's yours?"
Apparently the issue wasn't the clams. They're not ready! It seems like someone bumped into someone else and dumped sauce on their white shirt. And those two someones were quite ready to beat the snot out of each other over this seemingly not-so-big problem. That is until Nenita came along, stamped her foot and smacked someone in the back of the head and they were sent home. With the issue nipped in the behind, the goldrider now finds herself on the serving side of the table with several people from High Reaches approaching along the line. She eyeballs these people before starting to work her way /back/ now through the workers, but it's slow going as she tries not to knock anything over.
"I've always felt there wasn't much of a point in something smelling good if it wasn't going to taste good, too," An'dren replies. He shifts the plate from one hand to the other but, for politeness' sake, doesn't take a bite of anything. He follows L'hai's gaze down to his food, and when he looks back up, his expression's one of friendly confusion. "It's not?" But apparently L'hai was right, it's not, even if the two of them weren't exactly talking about the same thing, because here's Nenita trying to make her way back out of the serving line. Andy nods at L'hai and says, "Go grab a plate. Don't let me keep you." And just in case the other bronzerider might hang around so long as he was, the Weyrleader strides -- well, pushes, mostly -- to the buffet to try to help Nenita out.
His own drink is thrown back and Ch'son makes a gesture for another one as he sets the empty down. "Ajatha," he says her name. "Well met," he says, then continues with a grin, "Just women for me. Ain't lackin' nothin' at all. But it's good t'hear. Be a shame if you were completely off limits." When he gets his next drink, he picks it up to take a small gulp and he listens to the exchange between brownriders with something even resembling curiosity until his gaze slips off to the side for a moment to see who's around.
Grinning at Ajatha's approach to Ch'son, P'draig reaches to secure his second grink and lets the blonde loop her arm companionably through his. "Kip is doing just fine yes. I cook for him twice a seven, though I'm looking at opening my own place," he informs his fellow brownrider. "Things are pretty good here," Paddy says mildly. "Ch'son and I have a bet going about who'll drop first over these very nice strong drinks they're mixing." Beat. "You in? The bet's 2 marks."
Nenita grumbles her entire way down the servers side of the table, aiming a particularly annoyed look at someone that gets in her way until they move. The sight of the Weyrleader down at the end coming to her rescue must have some sort of pull because the remaining obstacles seem to edge away looking a little nervous. "They were going to beat each other over sauce! Sauce on their shirts! Never again teenagers at a party like this. Don't let me forget." She tells An'dren when she's finally out of the crowd. "I'm going to write it down, have it etched in stone."
"Well, aren't you a charmer," Ajatha grants to Ch'son with a smirk and relatively easily scoops out one hand to beckon a drink, pilfering it herself after a moment. "Jathi, if you prefer, too. Good." To Paddy, of course. "I hope he hasn't forgotten me and all that -- you're opening your own place?" That seems to be something that she hasn't heard, her interest sparked upon the Istan brownrider. "Ooh, you know I love a good bet." She leans to look over Ch'son more pointedly now and considers, as though estimating his limit. "I'm in, boys."
Z'yi has disconnected.
It's probably the height. The Weyrleader's too skinny to loom properly, but in this room full of tall people, he might be a little more visible than the Weyrwoman. "No more teenagers," An'dren agrees. "You could write it down on Loe's board. It's not as permanent as etching it in stone, maybe, but I think it's about as effective." He nods towards the buffet. "Have you eaten yet? If not, would you be opposed to having dinner with me? The party's going strong, and I think it can look after itself for a few minutes."
When P'draig invites the woman, the smaller woman, into their bet, Ch'son is left looking at her a little more carefully and with a little less leering in his blue eyes. His considering of Ajatha is intense of enough that the tip of his tongue stays poked out of his mouth when he goes to lick his lips. But then he blinks back to focus and lifts his glass in a cheers sort of gesture. "Chaes, if y'prefer," he returns. Then he glances at P'draig like he's doubting this blonde's ability to hold liquor.
"Watch yourself with this one," P'draig tells Ch'son with a brief wry pull to his mouth and knocks back his second drink in a couple of gulps and some muttered cussing. "Ajatha, sorry to bail, it's -- complicated. Ch'son, rain check on the rest of this bet. Now she's come here and she's trying to get Palia to -- shardit!" Thundercloud again as Paddy unlaces his arm from Ajatha's and goes striding off with a distinctly less-than-pleased countenance to sort things out with his ex and his daughter.
"I'll etch it in stone and have it posted permanently in the kitchen." Nenita informs him, stepping out from behind the table. His question has her looking at the food this time with a much less critical and irritated expression crossing her face. Instead it's almost speculative. Near to quiet, "Oh, no. I haven't yet. You haven't either?" She glances back towards him before she leans in and snatches a plate, piling several easy to eat items onto it. "I guess we can eat and I hope that it can." There's a laugh and just a hint of nervousness to it before she dares move away from the serving line.