LOG: Stay Away From Her.
Date: Day 2, Month 9, Turn 19
Location: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr
Synopsis: Post-clutching, High Reaches turns out to party. Tiriana willingly touches K'del, up until Cadejoth sends him intriguing mental images of a naked girl in his bathtub. He departs.
Stolen from anvori and yuliye. Cadejoth-talk added.
Question. Leova asked a question. Whitchek's face goes immediately blank. Question. Question--"What, about the *drinks*? The hell. I thought it was, um, hypocritical." A blink, a correction: "Hypothetical. Sorry." But his drink is still his drink, and he starts holding it a little closer to his chest. "I thought you were going to *hurt* me if I so much as look at Madilla wrong, and now here you are..." Another flail-y thing, helpless gesture.
Wait, wait, wait, wait. Tiriana, coming close to K'del? He doesn't take this so far as to immediately reach out to take her arm, or worse, draw his around her, but the offer is made, arm right there, if she wants it. Sadly, having one woman on each arm doesn't last, and though he drops his jaw with the obvious intent of complaining, as Yuliye disentangles herself, the words don't quite escape on time. He watches her, with one final nod as she pats his arm, lips curled into something unreadable as she drifts away. Drinkless, he takes a deep breath, then turns his attention back to the others. Well.
Vaan stands there siping his drink he looks at anvori " This is pretty good thanks for the drink." he watches Whitchek flail he gives whit a small laugh. "Keep fighting Whit you might win." looks around the lake side " I thought the dancing was to start soon how long is soon?" he smiles as he takes a bite of meat.
Ulestien lifts his brows at Yuliye, smiling slowly in greeting. "Yuliye, hello. It's wonderful to see you again." He nods towards K'del as well in greeting but isn't speaking on the subject between them. Instead when Evayne reaches for his drink, he lets her take it. "Not any alcohol, Eva." He notes softly. Then Yuliye takes off and he watches her go. But, he's not saying anything for those introductions.
"Language," Leova informs Whit this time, rather than immediately elaborate on what she had or had not meant with regard to hurting him, with a sublimely pointed look that's even sharper than her skewer. Though her glance flicks to Vaan again, it's not for long: surely not enough time to escape?
Yuliye drifts, making small talk with the myriad of lower caverns and rider folks she knows her eventual path bringing her by A'son. Close enough so that she can tip her head to one side and look up. Familiar. What was his name again? "Y'ston!" Never mind he's already standing next to and seems to be talking to someone else.
Besties? Frenemies, /maybe/. Tiriana notes K'del's arm and is quick to take it, as though she hasn't marked her territory enough on her own yet. Amazing what a little friendly rivalry will do for her opinion of her Weyrleader. And her eyes glower at Yuliye's back until she's lost in the crowd. Then a shake of her head, and K'del gets a more typical reproachful look for the company he's keeping now. "You just need to stay away from her. Before you end up groveling at Crom's feet."
Her head tilting to the side just a bit, Evayne watches Yuliye with a considerable amount of attentiveness. "Oh, we will," she replies easily, giving a little wave after the woman and watching her go. Her smile fades just a little bit for a moment before she clears her throat and it brightens again, her eyes coming back to those staying nearby. One more drink from Lest's glass, and then she's offering it back to him with a wrinkle of her nose. Something is *almost* asked, but she catches it and chuckles again. And...well, mouth stays shut for a moment before she looks between Weyrwoman and Weyrleader and points out, "Tiriana, I'm going to go get a drink, since you've got yours now. I'll find you again later?"
Anvori takes his time in responding, taking a drink from his glass before Milani's question draws his lashes down. Then the drink comes down and the lump of his throat shifts to swallow. "Orange juice and a peach liquor. It should be sweet and not too sour from the citrus." His brow lifts quizzically, 'is it?' But with Milani freed from Altina's clutches and Leova then Betegal the new target, the brewer takes a step closer to red. A'son, or Y'ston as the man's called, garners a swift, 'go you' sort of glance for the brunette that looks like she might throw herself at him. Maybe.
Ulestien takes his glass again, taking a drink and then lifting his brows at Evayne. "Want me to come?" He asks her, looking towards the Weyrwoman and the Weyrleader but nothing more. His focus is shifting towards Evayne for her odd behavior.
Altina has a direct aim on Betegal. She puts her arm out to him. She needs a new escort since she so callously ditched her own son several minutes ago. "Come now, young man. I want you to meet some people. Come on!" She smiles brilliantly at him. If he'll allow, she'll drag him along back to the original people she was bothering before. In the meantime... A'son is still there by Anvori. Who doesn't know his name. He suddenly shoves his hand at the other man, "By the way, my name is Y'ston. Nice to meet you?" A knowing look is shot towards Milani. Onto his next problem, Yuliye. "Ah, hello there girl-who-won't-tell-me-her-name."
The harpers have been playing quietly, for a while now, providing some entertainment for the ongoing party; but it's hard work all that singing and playing, and eventually they disband for a break. Rorkes loiters around for a few minute to drink: some thoughtful person's left him a glass of water while he's been singing. The rest of his break is meant to be taken up by socializing, it would seem, as he sets off, away from the motley instrument collection and out into the crowd.
"It's lovely," Milani tells the bartender with a little smile and has another sip. That wrap? Down around her elbows instead of up around her shoulders. Her own quizzical look is shot towards A'son and Yuliye though and her brows are doing the funky at the look A'son shoots her and she mouths: 'Y'ston?' at him, rolls her eyes a little. "Well ... this party just gets more and more interesting," she murmurs lowly.
Language? *Language*? For a moment, Whitchek looks like he's about to crack entirely. Instead, he downs the rest of his drink like an overly large shot. And he'd slam his glass down on something except there's nothing to slam it down on just at present. "I just don't know what you're playing at," he says, far from trying to escape, although he takes a look around like he's trying to find someone, anyone in all Pern to back him up, but as usual that's unlikely. "I haven't been anything but pleasant to her. Are you trying to punish me or something?"
"Y'ston," says the girl with no name so fondly. She might even reach over to hug him, except there's that whole beer in one hand thing. "You can call me Yu." It's a third of her name at least. "Would you like to dance?" Wouldn't he, oh so pretty please, like to dance with her? Big eyes lift up to him and a delicate little hand reaches out as she does the most unladylike thing and pushes herself and her low cut dress out there in front of A'son-Y'ston. Whatever.
Yuliye claims that!
Betegal seems reluctant, glancing back toward the caverns, but in the end he allows the woman to drag him back toward other people that he's so far managed to avoid directly. "You know, they seem kind of busy and all. Are you sure that's such a good idea?" He's not.
Vaan smiles at Whitchek and desides to back him up. " yes he's be most cival toward's her." he gives a slight shrug at whitchek as if to say that's the most i can do. He looks at anvori " So how long have you been working with drink's" he raises a brow in question while trying to look noticeable.
"Y'ston?" is Anvori's echo, as if committing that name to memory before he turns the name, repeated again, to Milani, "Y'ston?" He's caught that little roll of her eyes. Which is actually a little hard to with the hazel of his gaze about on level with her chest. But it's a slow, adventurous climb back up so he might flash a quick smile up at the Headwoman. Incorrigible. Unrepentant. Those are oft-used words in the Anvori-lexicon. With the drama of Leova and Whitchek continuing and Vaan questioning him, a step towards the Headwoman is stayed and then completes so he might pivot and place a protective arm about the woman's elbow. "Need another drink yet?" is said lowly, while louder, he comments to Vaan in the next breath, "As long as I can care to remember. It was more a life for me than fishing."
When Milani mouthes 'Y'ston', the bronzerider shoots a long, serious look at her. Really! It seems to say. He brings his gaze back down to Yuliye and grins, casting off that look from earlier. "Dance?" There's a glance in the direction those who are doing just that. It's only been about two centuries since anyone has let him near a dance floor. "Why, sure. If you don't mind me being a little rusty." Just then Altina arrives, Betegal in tow. Luckily for A'son, she ignores him. Snubs him, even. She brings the young man up to Milani and Anvori. "Look who /I/ found. I don't know his name but he sure is /handsome/."
"Not going to grovel on Crom," insists K'del, somewhat more moodily now, though, you know, he has exchanged one pretty girl for another, so he can't be complaining /too/ much. All this said, he'll smile prettily - or, rather, /handsomely/ - at everyone else. Polite!
For a moment, Tiriana shoots a wide-eyed, pleading look at Evayne, but she nods, not able to bring herself to stop the girl's exit. "Yeah, sure. Go on. I'll see you around." Doesn't mean she has to be enthusiastic about it, though. As Evayne leaves, the Weyrwoman only sighs. "Whatever," she says, not believing but not pressing it for once. Instead, she's dragging on his arm, toward the impromptu dance floor, now that they're alone. "Come on." Gotta get some use out of him, if she's going to be stuck with him. That drink? It's finished off fast, too.
Vaan smiles as he's starting to feel the drink's " Well it must be a fairly nice job to have considering all you have to do is make drink's. Fishing is good way to pass the time but I would not take it as a job just for a time waster." he takes a swig from his glass " No matter what it's a good drink."
The arguing, the downing, the might-have-been-an-explosion that wasn't, through all of it Leova watches Whitchek with careful, attentive patience. Her voice lowers. "Thank you." And for it, he gets an explanation, after a nod to Vaan recognizes and agrees: "You're right: don't want you to look at her the wrong way, by which I mean /anything/ she doesn't like, anything that's going to make her or me think you don't respect her and what she's earned. Don't mean, stay away." Get it? "Where you're wrong: punishing. Pretty sure. Why'd you go and think that?"
Milani shoots another little look A'son's way but she subsides for as long as Yuliye is ... draping. She does drop her head a little though towards Anvori as he pivots hooks his hand at her elbow and murmurs something to him in an undertone. She mutters to Anvori, "... name. I... know..." Deep breath and she looks at her glass. Which is still mostly full. Up it goes. Chug. "Sure." Brightly.
"Dance," confirms Yu with an even brighter smile that harkens of rainbows and unicorns. Really. Lucky for 'Y'ston,' she's had etiquette and dance lessons galore to know how to lead a male without them losing all their man points and without her losing any toes. She'll need them tonight, if /that/ glance back over her shoulder to find K'del means anything at all. Mmm. But back to the man at hand and the task before her: dance and make small talk. Plaintive, "You never came by to have cake."
There is an apologetic look offered to Tiriana, but Evayne does not retract her words. "We'll find you soon," she promises. Yes. Soon. Lest is given a look. "Yes." Like, duh. There's another flashed smile towards K'del and then she's turning to drag Ulestien off in the direction of the drink line and away from conversations that so make her want to open her mouth. Once she's made said escape, she asks a little more quietly, "What's wrong with you?" A little gesture with her free hand towards the glass that /isn't/ alcohol. Still, her question /is/ threaded with a tease.
Betegal is actually kind of blushing by the time that he's dragged toward people and that only turns a deeper shade in the wake of that very last word from Altina. "Betegal," he offers, voice a little quiet like he's not entirely sure he's actually supposed to be saying anything. Which is kind of ridiculous all on its own. He glances briefly at Milani, then looks away quickly.
"Thank you," Whitchek says to Vaan, although looking at Leova at the time. See? Proof. But after that it's just bafflement towards Leova. "Then what're you doing... hanging on me before?" Not that she is at the moment. But, you know, in that infinitely brief period earlier which is going to be burned on his brain for all eternity. Or at least the rest of the evening. "Talk about not polite." The mental filter that's always in overdrive around the supposedly fairer sex seems to be breaking down.
K'del looks almost as though he, too, would like Evayne to stay; is that a 'help' on his face? But he pushes it away for a smile, politely tipping his head after the trader and the candidate, then turns his attention back to Tiriana. Awkward, for a moment, he still manages to stumble into motion without too much hesitation as she begins to drag him. "Where are--" But it's obvious, pretty quickly, and he shuts his mouth again. "Know you don't think I can handle myself, but I can. Not a complete idiot, you know." Beat. "Nice to know that I'm good enough to dance with /now/." Unlike at graduation.
Anvori looks in bemusement at Y'ston with the brunette, though not distracted enough by that pairing to not notice the way Milani avoids looking over there at the draped pair. The hand at her arm tightens and then turns into a slide about her waist in a reassuring half-hug before the warmth of it drifts away. He should get her a new drink and this time, takes her old one to exchange out. The handymen have finished the bonfire and there's a little yelping squeal of a teenage girl in excitement that starts to run through the crowd. It's this excited crowd that Anvori must navigate which gives him pause: jostling people, potential fire, alcohol at hand, maybe not now? "Maybe not just yet?" he says low to Milani, even as a smile quickly climbs back to his lips at Altina and Betegal's approach. "Anvori, Snowasis' bartender or one of them and this is Milani, the Headwoman here." In case he doesn't know.
The players start back up, lively dancing tunes since many couples are starting to head that way. But Rorkes is still on his break, giving his voice a well-earned rest while he traverses the lakeshore for the party. With his water finished, he eventually winds up in the line for something stronger than that. And somehow, he falls in line right behind Evayne and Ulestien; another inadvertant eavesdropping. His half-smile of recognition is definitely sheepish before he glances away.
"Well, maybe I /would/ have." A'son says as he brings Yuliye away from the group of people and to the dancing arena. He's not totally lousy at it, but it's clear he hasn't done this in awhile. "You see, it's very difficult to come visit a woman when you don't know where her rooms are." He gives another little shrug, "Or what her name is to find out where her rooms are. And 'the pretty brunette' doesn't really do the trick, see."
Altina releases Betegal now they're back to the group. She's beaming. "Isn't he a /nice/ young man? Been escorting me!" Her eyes alight onto Anvori and there's just a totally brilliant smile for him. "Oh my! I'm going to have to visit that place more often if the bartenders look like you!" She looks down at her empty glass of wine. There's a giggle. "Oh dear. I think this stuff is getting to my head. I didn't realize it could affect you this quickly? Is this my first or second?" She stares at Milani as if she should know. "A'son!" The woman calls, looking around. Her son is spotted dancing with the brunette. "Boys. She looks like a hussy, doesn't she?" Glance to Milani.
"And yet you're strolling around /our/ clutching party with Crom on your arm?" Tiriana levels a duh sort of look on K'del. "Faranth. Men are hopeless. --Do you even know /how/ to dance?" Because these thoughts are clearly related as they arrive on the dancefloor, and she starts to fall automatically into position. But a beat later, she's pausing putting her hands on his shoulders to eye his own in turn. "If you even /think/ about feeling me up--." We'll leave that to imagination.
"Ah," says the pretty brunette flirtatiously, her lashes lifting wide about her large hazel eyes. A correction plays about her curved smile, "You didn't ask for the prettiest brunette." Of course, that's exactly why he couldn't find her. Yuliye whirls him around the shore though the squeal of the bonfire about to be lit garners her fleeting attention. "You can also hold me a little tighter you know. I promise, I wasn't raised to be one of those girls," is said at the same time Altina makes her hussy appraisal.
That slide of Anvori's arm around her slants Milani's gaze sideways at the bartender and she smiles a little, lets her hand rest atop his for the scant seconds that his hand curls at her hip. "No rush," she tells him tilting her empty glass and then there's Betegal to greet. "Hey there Bety, how's the new shift going?" she asks him and smiles over at Anvori. "Betegal and I grew up together." Altina's interjection opens and shuts the headwoman's mouth and she just smiles at A'son's mother. "That's Lord Crom's niece, Yuliye, Altina. I'm sure she's very ... nice."
"/You/ didn't seem so inclined to actually touch me, until I did that," points out K'del, not exactly speaking an untruth, though that's hardly the reason why he was feeling up Yuliye. "Of course I know how to dance," he adds, though he might as well not bother; as Tiriana falls into position, so does he, arms drawing about her waist as he seeks the beat. "Right, right, I'll never touch another woman again. At least I'd go happily, I suppose. Nice dress." He completely /doesn't/ glance at Yuliye over Tiriana's shoulder. Except for the fact that he totally does.
"What wasn't polite?" Leova protests. "Didn't spill your drink, did you?" And has her meat-skewer gone cold? She eats what's left of the poor dead animal anyway, quick-like, with an equally sudden swallow before continuing. And then suddenly memory must bring back what she's looking for, given how her eyes have gone wide in consternation, "Whit. /Whit/. Wasn't trying to... to make time with /you/. If that's what you think. Seem like a nice young man and all. But." At least she lowers her voice even further, meant for his ears alone. "Didn't you see what Anvori did, you know, the one who poured your drink? He /does/ those things. Don't know how he gets away with them, but he does, and I just... I. Don't always think straight."
Ulestien is following as Evayne drags him off and he's not glancing back towards the others behind them. Evayne's question has him shaking his head. "Nothing is wrong.." Nope, but he's tilting his head in a direction away from the group. "We can go talk.. Where there's less people."
"I got searched," Betegal says to Milani, trying not to look uncomfortable now that he's not being bodily moved around. Or maybe he's uncomfortable about what he says to Milani. It's always a little hard to tell where Betegal is concerned with these things. He smiles and nods and/or waves to others that greet him, polite.
Tiriana eyes K'del, and while she glances once more at his hand positioning, she doesn't adjust it any. Instead, "Thanks. Not that you're even looking at me. Who are you--/K'del/." She glowers--no, pouts--when she cranes her neck over her shoulder to see Yuliye, then gives him another look. "Just because I don't want you doesn't mean anybody /else/ gets you." Sulk.
Enlightened as to the relationship between Milani and Betegal, Anvori, as the lone person not of Reaches natively, maintains his smile. But as the Headwoman and the new-made candidate might have much to talk of, the brewer, very slowly, pulls himself away. Ostensibly to get Milani a drink, but more to observe the bonfire get lit as night begins to fall.
Vaan yawns and his jaw makes a cracking sound. " Well I have things to do tommorow so I guess I better head to bed soon." he takes a large glup of his glass and finishes his skewer. Waving to the people he was talking to. " Have a good evening everyone.Nice meeting you Anvori." he walks off towards the the dorms.
"Oh," Y'ston (oh boy) laughs, "Well. Next time I'll ask for the prettiest brunette who's name starts with 'Yu'." He pauses to give her a knowing look. "Because I know that's not your entire name." Her imparted knowledge to him about what type of girl she is receives a lift of his eyebrow. That hand that's around her waist, suddenly draws her much closer, tighter. Maybe even dangerously close. His lips curve into a smile. "What about that, too much?" He asks, amusement twinkling in his eyes.
"Does *what* things?" asks Whitchek almost plaintively, although there's less strain in his voice than before, and certainly loud enough for everybody around to hear because he doesn't exactly get what the discretion is for. And he looks at Anvori while he's saying it, too. "But. You weren't thinking straight. That's okay. Times like this can do that. Too much alcohol," never mind that this all originally started before that had begun to be the case, "and bad things happen. Sometimes... extremely bad things. Very, very bad." He seems to have somewhat lost the original train of thought. "I forgive you," then, generously.
"Hey," Evayne greets Rorkes with a smile, given that she's turned her head to look back in the direction she and Lest came from. Anything else that might have been further said, she's distracted from, eyes jumping back up to Ulestien at his words. Oh, the sunny smile fades, replaced by a little frown. "But-" Pout. "Okay." Eyes swing back to Rorkes, and she's smiling at him /oh/ so winningly. "We have to go talk, for a minute." Because dangit, /party/. Only a minute! "I don't have a drink yet -- can you grab me one, since you're in line? Maybe?" Hopeful, oh so hopeful. Lest is shot a concerned look, sidelong. His hand is squeezed. Yeah, she's not buying the nothing's wrong.
Altina's jaw drops at this new knowledge. "He's dancing with Lord Crom's niece!" The older woman practically shouts this information. She spins around suddenly, looking around. Her eyes alight on A'son out there dancing. "Oh my. Oh my. This isn't good. What is he thinking? He's going to be /jailed/." She turns her eyes onto Milani again. "How could you let him do that!"
"Evening." It's all right to pay them attention then, once Evayne greets him; and Rorkes offers a much improved smile to the pair. And the harper's quick to reassure: "Oh, sure. I don't mind. Go ahead." And he even makes a little shooing sort of motion for her in the process. Except-- "Oh, er. What would you like?" Important information, that.
"Oh did you? I haven't re-checked the list," Milani tells Betegal apologetically. "Congratulations!" she says to the new-made candidate and sticks her hand out towards him. Anvori's retreat draws her gaze though, briefly, over her shoulder and there's a trace of 'don't go' to her expression. Especially as Altina goes bonkers. "I'm sure that Yuliye won't do that," the headwoman says with a shake of her head. "That's all ancient history, Altina. It'll be good for all of us you know, to be friendly."
"Adorable things," Leova says, only she says it /darkly/, like he could get himself beheaded for it, and then she's following Whit's glance toward the man himself. And the fire. And she, she's getting that sideways smile all over again. Focus! No doubt a sip of that alcohol of which Whit had spoken will help. "Anyhow. Good. So if I do it again, you'll know it's just a friendly thing. What people do around here. Not to throw anyone's shoulder out of joint."
If Y'ston's hand keeps where it is and they continue to dance hip-to-hip, though admittedly at least fifty percent (if not more!) of that inappropriate pressing inward and upward is on Yuliye's part. If everything in this little scenario stays true, 'Y'ston' might get jailed for the very first time. Or at least punched by Lord Crom, or something equally if not more miserable. Y'ston, cause this isn't A'son, right? "Mmmmmmmmm," is her guttural exhalation, cat-like contentment enveloping that single sound. Her arms wrap all the tighter: the one about his waist helping to draw her in closer, the one around his neck making her be all the more drapey, for Milani's benefit. "Maybe not enough. Tell me about yourself. Your cousin? Was it? Has so notoriety and there's nothing I've heard about you."
K'del does not have the grace to look /truly/ repentent for being caught in the act like that, tipping his head up instead to look amused at Tiriana's reaction. "Man has needs, Tiriana. You don't want me, got to try and find it elsewhere. Though," and he grins, this time, an outright smile, "Yuliye turned me down, though, so you don't have to worry too much. Just looking. I'll keep my eyes on your cleavage, though, for now, if you prefer." True to his word, he's not a bad dancer, if not terribly flashy, either.
Ulestien nods at Rorkes, slowly, but it's obvious he's distracted. A smiles towards Evayne, "just a minute." He agrees, "promise. Won't be longer than a few words." A glance around before he nods towards the diving cliff.
"Thank you!" Evayne chirps, and then she's turning to try and drag Lest away, except there's a question and so she's pausing to flash a smile. "Sweet, and very alcoholic. I don't care beyond that. Thank you /so/ much. We'll be right back." Okay, /then/ they can go. A few words! Eva shoots Lest another look, though this one is more 'what are you up to' sort of concern rather than 'is he okay?' No further prodding at him though, she's just moving towards the diving cliff when it's nodded to.
A'son for now Y'ston, keeps his hands just where they are. Regardless of how he's possibly going to be jailed for this later on. There's another shake of his dark head when she makes her noise and he leans down to speak in her ear. "I like to keep a low profile. I try to avoid things that get me into trouble. I don't want notoriety, fame, anything. Sometimes it's far better to be an unnamed face in the crowd. What do you think?" He asks, looking past her shoulder.
Betegal takes Milani's hand briefly, then glances toward Anvori and then down at the ground. "Thanks," he says, then quickly, "I think I need to get going now, sorry." He moves back and away quickly and tries to disappear into the bustle and head back toward the caverns. Flee!
Altina is watching that hussy of holder drape herself all over her precious son. "A'son! Are you crazy!" She calls over the crowd. "You're going to go to /jail/. Again!" But there's so much noise, it's unlikely her voice carries over to them. She turns to Milani, face all red. "Dear. Are you sure?" Uncertainty fills her eyes, tears are almost ready to roll out of them. Then Betegal is running off. "Oh dear! Dear. Did I scare that nice young man off?" Guilt!
"It's a Weyr," and this is not news. "There are plenty of whores out there who'd love to say they did the Weyrleader--and they aren't Crom's niece, either." Tiriana pointedly eyes K'del again, but at least getting onto him about that keeps her from snapping about her cleavage. Which, for the record, is none too shabby in this dress. "Faranth. You shouldn't even look at her; she's dangerous. And I can say this because she's my best friend." And... this is some way to talk about your bestie.
Adorable things. Whitchek takes another glance at Leova, a glance at Anvori heading for the bar, and then back to Leova again. He mouths the word at her: Adorable? Another glance at Anvori, lingering a moment. Back. "Please, don't do it again," he says to Leova, tone much more serious than the words would indicate. "Just... please." Extremely odd sort of thing to say. He regards his glass. He regards hers, even if it's not empty. "Do you want another?"
Oh yes, she understands and for a moment a genuine note of surprise flares bright in those light eyes. It's just enough to startle her into momentary silence. Yuliye blinks twice up at A'son and reflexively, instead of tightening, releases him. She even steps back out of the dance and his dancing embrace. "Yes. I understand." Which is why she can't dance with him anymore. But she'll lean all prettily with her low cut dress and the shawl that's barely pinned to her shoulders, and remarks low, "Thank you for the short dance, A'son. Yuliye. That's my name." Dark lashes, pretty eyes, pursed lips, and a very casual 'accidental' glance offered down her dress. "Good night."
Anvori's return with a new glass, two glasses of brandy this time is slow and on his way back, that gaze of his drifts involuntarily back to where Whitchek and Leova were and apparently still her. In this drift, he happens on Whitchek looking his way at the same time. Funny that! A crooked smile and drop of his chin pairs with a wink of acknowledgement, and then he's by Milani once more. "Brandy. Cherry. It'll warm you up."
"'Whores' implies I pay for my women, which I don't. But you're right: not many people turn down the Weyrleader." The steady parade of women coming and going from K'del's weyr is certainly indication enough of this, though right now, he only smiles blandly as he says it. "Can handle myself. Would've thought she'd be equally dangerous to you, best friend or not. But I'm sure you can handle yourself, too. She's a tricky girl, but not that hard to read." Or so he thinks.
Leova has a rueful nod for Whit's silent question, one that might even verge on shamefaced, only then her attention catches: "Why?" Before the does-she-want-another. Enough before, that she might not even have heard it.
"No really, it'll be okay, Altina," Milani says sincerely and blinks as Betegal ... flees. One of the headwoman's hands presses to the side of her head, the other reaches to rest gently on A'son's mother's forearm. "No, he probably had a long day. A lot of excitement in being Searched!" Deep breath and a blink because Anvori's back with the brandy and she smiles at the bartender. "Cherry. Good stuff." And this time she doesn't chug but sips as her gaze wanders the dance floor to find A'son and his ... no longer drapey partner.
A'son doesn't try to keep her in place, he lets her go. Perhaps he catches the startled look in her eyes, the surprise. His lips curve up in to a smile, eyes searching her face. "I'm glad, you understand." The accidental look down her chest is ignored, with the revelation of identities, he takes a step back. "Say hello to your family for me. I miss their hospitality." He wiggles his fingers at her and that step back? Turns into several more and then he's gone, disappearing into the crowd.
Caught, Whitchek has the grace to redden, but only just barely before Leova's question. That, even after a couple drinks, he can answer: "It's not proper." You see, he has an excuse. It works for everything. It's so ingrained he probably even believes it. "Drink?" he asks again, raising his own glass by way of reminder.
"Why?" Leova repeats. Though this time: "Yes." She even lifts hers, an absent gesture that might as easily be, yes-she-has-one.
She might even look a little sad as she watches A'son disappear into that crowd. Yuliye might even wilt a little bit, the pink petal dress she wears and that white shawl seeming to sag with that sudden confirmation of what she might have already suspected. But a girl can only look mournful for so long at a party like this, and though she doesn't rejoin the crowd, Yu, too, slips away.
"You pay. Maybe not marks, but." It's a moot point to Tiriana, who shrugs her shoulders. "Anyway. She's my friend, that's how I /know/ she's dangerous. Nobody's really friends with me, not like that. They all just want something. Kind of like none of those girls actually like /you/." Hint hint. At least she dances quite well, even when reprimanding him.
"I like cherries," is all Anvori says simply in return. He stands there, all gentlemanly and perhaps even big brotherly by Milani's shoulder. He'll even smile all indulgence and good humor at Altina's diatribe about Crom and his hussy of a niece and perhaps look across the way to see A'son and his drapey partner's dance come to an abrupt end with the girl left forlorn on the dance floor before disappearing too. There's /a lot/ to watch and hear and absorb and it takes the bartender a moment to catch up, even if by catching up, he has to close his eyes and tip his head back to gain some sense of equilibrium. "You doing ok, red?" How many times will he ask her this question in one night?
"You ask too many questions for a lady," says Whitchek accusingly to Leova, and he doesn't answer that one. Alas. In some prior era of mankind's history he would have had chapter and verse to quote her. "Do you *want*--" He starts to press the drink question, seems to think better of it, and just heads off to the bar, leaving her to stand there or follow or do whatever it is that women like that do in the absence of good, moral young men to persecute.
Where is her /son/. And where is that /hussy/. They're both gone by the time Altina turns away from Milani. "Head/woman/! They're gone, gone!" Is that sheer terror on the older woman's face? In her voice? "He's been taken! Right from under my nose. Oh we'll see about this. I'll track her down and find her before she gets him into any rotten jail cell. Women, can't trust any of those hussies." Before she can be stopped, she's gone. Rushing through the crowds with her skirts all hiked up.
Cadejoth> Oh, if only Cadejoth could look into that weyr. Peer one of his huge eyes in to see Yuliye making short work of her clothes, leaving them in a puddled trail from the entrance to the tub back there. Or see her sprawl all nude and pretty along the tub's stone sides before dropping herself in. "Mmmm, I definitely need one of these in my room." If only Cadejoth could see or care to see and convey all /that/ to K'del. Naked girl in his room alert! Naked girl in his tub alert!
Cadejoth> Cadejoth may not make a habit of /looking/ through the door into K'del's weyr, but he's got to be aware of where his rider is, right? And that's not in the weyr. So, when there are sounds, /in/ the weyr - dragons can hear, can't they? And does the sound of him rumbling, slightly, out on the ledge, make it all the way in? It's a beautiful day, the curtain between weyr and ledge left ajar. But maybe that'll be enough. Otherwise, in the meantime: hot water, private bath.
<< You're ba-- no, you're not. >>
Huh?
<< There's someone moving around in your weyr. >>
WHAT? Who?
"How?" K'del seems genuinely unable to think of an answer to his own question, this idea of paying, even if not in marks, for the company of the girls around him. "That's really sad. That you don't have real friends, because you think they all want something from you. /I/ have real friends. Have, since before I Impressed. Plenty of girls wanted me back then, too, pimpley faced or not." There's a hitch in his step at that point, like something has momentarily distracted him, causing him to lose the beat entirely.
A lot indeed. Milani's hand is wrapped around that brandy like it's a lifesaver as she continues to try to calm Altina. "She's gone to dance with someone else, mostly likely, really and A'son's smart, he's just --" but she's running off a-rushing and Milani lets out a soft sigh, watches her go. Anvori's question draws her gaze back to him and she takes a healthy swig of the brandy. "It /was/ a good day," she says after a moment and sighs softly, closes her eyes. The remnants of Whitchek and Leova's 'discussion' bleeds through the ambient crowd noise and she cracks her eyes open. "Might have another rescue to make," she notes after a moment, nodding their way.
"You just do!" Which means Tiriana has no clue, either; it just sounded good. She glares at him, just for a minute, and then declares, words very clipped, "Well, I've never just been some pimply-faced kid--and not just because I didn't have acne. I'm the Weyrleader's daughter, and now a Weyrwoman and--people always want something. Even if it's just sex." Although she certainly doesn't seem to mind whatever it is Yuliye might want during their own lunches and such; just when the other girl's macking on her Weyrleader.
"Never claimed I was one," says Leova, watching Whit's departing back, getting that narrow-eyed look again. She doesn't follow him, not right off anyhow, standing still as people come and go about her. It's a little while more before she turns, sipping her drink, letting the bubbles tickle her lip while she casts about for the fire and where that bartender used to be.
Cadejoth> Yuliye certainly enjoys her privacy, even going so far as to sing songs with nonsensical lyrics, replacing the real ones with whatever comes to mind or a hum when she doesn't know the words. There's sound of splashing, of a sponge being squeezed, of a head submerging in the water and then coming up with a small splash. Perhaps that sound of him rumbling has made it all in, the head peering out from the side of the baths to crane a look to the ledge entrance. Dripping water everywhere and smiling sunnily, she also waves a lazy little finger wiggle to what of the bronze dragon she can see. "Congratulations, papa dragon."
Cadejoth> Cadejoth has got to be pretty used to naked girls in the weyr, and probably on his ledge, too, but that doesn't stop his head from lifting off of great, enormous forelimbs to get a better look at Yuliye - now. Well, look at that. He lets out another rumble, this one slightly more enthusiastic: papa dragon! Even if he has been banned from getting close to his own offspring.
Anvori, being neither good nor moral, is unfortunately not persecuted. But he gleams amused eyes at Whitchek's stalking away and then swings his head to find Leova just standing there with her gaze cast about the fire. Does he know she's looking for him? An arm drops to Milani's elbow and something indecipherable is mumbled -- an excuse or an apology by the sound of it -- but it doesn't matter for it all leads to Anvori taking two steps away from Milani, two steps further into that crowd to stand still and watch the greenrider, amused.
Cadejoth extends an image, slightly blurry, but still indication enough: why look, there's a naked girl in the tub. And guess who it is?
WHAT!
<< She's sweet! Papa dragon! That's what I am, even if Iovniath doesn't want me there. Little itty bitty Cadejoths! >>
I'll be there in a minute.
Normally, K'del might roll his eyes, but he's trying really, really hard. Also, frowning, and looking away again, off into the distance. "Bully for you," he tells Tiriana, but he's obviously distracted. "Cheer up, I'm sure she just looks up to you, and wants to sleep with me because you did. It's a flattery thing, complete respect." Right. Sure. Then: "Excuse me, Cadejoth needs me." Or perhaps has just provided him with a very /interesting/ visual indeed. Either way.
Quiet sigh and Milani nurses her cherry-flavored drink again, looks about at the crowd and slips away from where Anvori moves towards Leova. She's got her own rider to search out in the throng right now, still holding that glass tightly as she looks this way and that.
Unfortunately? Unfortunately? Whitchek is gone for a bit. Some negotiating in the determination of exactly what the beverage he'd been served last was, some gesturing in the direction where he last saw Anvori--where he resolutely refuses to actually look again, leading to a gesture at someone else entirely--and a bit of argument. But, on the up side, it's still not a woman he has to deal with. So, there's that.
"If she were going to sleep with one of us," Tiriana retorts, "it'd be me." Of course, this probably doesn't help anything K'del's visualizing, but she's too busy looking miffed at being abandoned by him. She lets him go with a sniff. "Fine, go. I bet he does." Excuses, excuses; and she's exiting the dancefloor at last. When her stomach rumbles, she veers toward the food tables to finally eat something; and by the way she starts loading a plate, to test just how much she can eat without bursting her seams.
Looking, looking, with a spin on her toes that makes her flared cuffs snap on the resulting breeze... and then at last, a laugh, and Leova's making her way to Anvori's side. As though accusingly: "You moved."
Yeah. No. That's not helping at /all/, not by K'del's expression as Tiriana says that. It's enough that he lingers where he is, standing quite still, as she wanders off, struck completely immobile. But not for /that/ long; after a few seconds, he takes a deep breath, frowning at something that clearly isn't directly in front of him, and heads off through the crowd, towards the bowl.
Cadejoth> Both of those bare, wet arms drape over the bath's edge and her chest must be all squished against the tub's side. Still! She seems pretty cheerful as she continues to regard Cadejoth from afar. "It's too bad," she reflects aloud, "That you can't join me." Why yes, she's flirting teasingly with a dragon. "But it's probably for the best. The tub /is/ awfully small." Her head hangs briefly, chin touched to bath's edge, then her head turns so she might look to the new almost-dad again. "Proud? Lots of babies? Why aren't you out there right now? I thought that's what the papa dragons do." And yes, she's carrying out a conversation, however one-sided, with a dragon.
Location: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr
Synopsis: Post-clutching, High Reaches turns out to party. Tiriana willingly touches K'del, up until Cadejoth sends him intriguing mental images of a naked girl in his bathtub. He departs.
Stolen from anvori and yuliye. Cadejoth-talk added.
Question. Leova asked a question. Whitchek's face goes immediately blank. Question. Question--"What, about the *drinks*? The hell. I thought it was, um, hypocritical." A blink, a correction: "Hypothetical. Sorry." But his drink is still his drink, and he starts holding it a little closer to his chest. "I thought you were going to *hurt* me if I so much as look at Madilla wrong, and now here you are..." Another flail-y thing, helpless gesture.
Wait, wait, wait, wait. Tiriana, coming close to K'del? He doesn't take this so far as to immediately reach out to take her arm, or worse, draw his around her, but the offer is made, arm right there, if she wants it. Sadly, having one woman on each arm doesn't last, and though he drops his jaw with the obvious intent of complaining, as Yuliye disentangles herself, the words don't quite escape on time. He watches her, with one final nod as she pats his arm, lips curled into something unreadable as she drifts away. Drinkless, he takes a deep breath, then turns his attention back to the others. Well.
Vaan stands there siping his drink he looks at anvori " This is pretty good thanks for the drink." he watches Whitchek flail he gives whit a small laugh. "Keep fighting Whit you might win." looks around the lake side " I thought the dancing was to start soon how long is soon?" he smiles as he takes a bite of meat.
Ulestien lifts his brows at Yuliye, smiling slowly in greeting. "Yuliye, hello. It's wonderful to see you again." He nods towards K'del as well in greeting but isn't speaking on the subject between them. Instead when Evayne reaches for his drink, he lets her take it. "Not any alcohol, Eva." He notes softly. Then Yuliye takes off and he watches her go. But, he's not saying anything for those introductions.
"Language," Leova informs Whit this time, rather than immediately elaborate on what she had or had not meant with regard to hurting him, with a sublimely pointed look that's even sharper than her skewer. Though her glance flicks to Vaan again, it's not for long: surely not enough time to escape?
Yuliye drifts, making small talk with the myriad of lower caverns and rider folks she knows her eventual path bringing her by A'son. Close enough so that she can tip her head to one side and look up. Familiar. What was his name again? "Y'ston!" Never mind he's already standing next to and seems to be talking to someone else.
Besties? Frenemies, /maybe/. Tiriana notes K'del's arm and is quick to take it, as though she hasn't marked her territory enough on her own yet. Amazing what a little friendly rivalry will do for her opinion of her Weyrleader. And her eyes glower at Yuliye's back until she's lost in the crowd. Then a shake of her head, and K'del gets a more typical reproachful look for the company he's keeping now. "You just need to stay away from her. Before you end up groveling at Crom's feet."
Her head tilting to the side just a bit, Evayne watches Yuliye with a considerable amount of attentiveness. "Oh, we will," she replies easily, giving a little wave after the woman and watching her go. Her smile fades just a little bit for a moment before she clears her throat and it brightens again, her eyes coming back to those staying nearby. One more drink from Lest's glass, and then she's offering it back to him with a wrinkle of her nose. Something is *almost* asked, but she catches it and chuckles again. And...well, mouth stays shut for a moment before she looks between Weyrwoman and Weyrleader and points out, "Tiriana, I'm going to go get a drink, since you've got yours now. I'll find you again later?"
Anvori takes his time in responding, taking a drink from his glass before Milani's question draws his lashes down. Then the drink comes down and the lump of his throat shifts to swallow. "Orange juice and a peach liquor. It should be sweet and not too sour from the citrus." His brow lifts quizzically, 'is it?' But with Milani freed from Altina's clutches and Leova then Betegal the new target, the brewer takes a step closer to red. A'son, or Y'ston as the man's called, garners a swift, 'go you' sort of glance for the brunette that looks like she might throw herself at him. Maybe.
Ulestien takes his glass again, taking a drink and then lifting his brows at Evayne. "Want me to come?" He asks her, looking towards the Weyrwoman and the Weyrleader but nothing more. His focus is shifting towards Evayne for her odd behavior.
Altina has a direct aim on Betegal. She puts her arm out to him. She needs a new escort since she so callously ditched her own son several minutes ago. "Come now, young man. I want you to meet some people. Come on!" She smiles brilliantly at him. If he'll allow, she'll drag him along back to the original people she was bothering before. In the meantime... A'son is still there by Anvori. Who doesn't know his name. He suddenly shoves his hand at the other man, "By the way, my name is Y'ston. Nice to meet you?" A knowing look is shot towards Milani. Onto his next problem, Yuliye. "Ah, hello there girl-who-won't-tell-me-her-name."
The harpers have been playing quietly, for a while now, providing some entertainment for the ongoing party; but it's hard work all that singing and playing, and eventually they disband for a break. Rorkes loiters around for a few minute to drink: some thoughtful person's left him a glass of water while he's been singing. The rest of his break is meant to be taken up by socializing, it would seem, as he sets off, away from the motley instrument collection and out into the crowd.
"It's lovely," Milani tells the bartender with a little smile and has another sip. That wrap? Down around her elbows instead of up around her shoulders. Her own quizzical look is shot towards A'son and Yuliye though and her brows are doing the funky at the look A'son shoots her and she mouths: 'Y'ston?' at him, rolls her eyes a little. "Well ... this party just gets more and more interesting," she murmurs lowly.
Language? *Language*? For a moment, Whitchek looks like he's about to crack entirely. Instead, he downs the rest of his drink like an overly large shot. And he'd slam his glass down on something except there's nothing to slam it down on just at present. "I just don't know what you're playing at," he says, far from trying to escape, although he takes a look around like he's trying to find someone, anyone in all Pern to back him up, but as usual that's unlikely. "I haven't been anything but pleasant to her. Are you trying to punish me or something?"
"Y'ston," says the girl with no name so fondly. She might even reach over to hug him, except there's that whole beer in one hand thing. "You can call me Yu." It's a third of her name at least. "Would you like to dance?" Wouldn't he, oh so pretty please, like to dance with her? Big eyes lift up to him and a delicate little hand reaches out as she does the most unladylike thing and pushes herself and her low cut dress out there in front of A'son-Y'ston. Whatever.
Yuliye claims that!
Betegal seems reluctant, glancing back toward the caverns, but in the end he allows the woman to drag him back toward other people that he's so far managed to avoid directly. "You know, they seem kind of busy and all. Are you sure that's such a good idea?" He's not.
Vaan smiles at Whitchek and desides to back him up. " yes he's be most cival toward's her." he gives a slight shrug at whitchek as if to say that's the most i can do. He looks at anvori " So how long have you been working with drink's" he raises a brow in question while trying to look noticeable.
"Y'ston?" is Anvori's echo, as if committing that name to memory before he turns the name, repeated again, to Milani, "Y'ston?" He's caught that little roll of her eyes. Which is actually a little hard to with the hazel of his gaze about on level with her chest. But it's a slow, adventurous climb back up so he might flash a quick smile up at the Headwoman. Incorrigible. Unrepentant. Those are oft-used words in the Anvori-lexicon. With the drama of Leova and Whitchek continuing and Vaan questioning him, a step towards the Headwoman is stayed and then completes so he might pivot and place a protective arm about the woman's elbow. "Need another drink yet?" is said lowly, while louder, he comments to Vaan in the next breath, "As long as I can care to remember. It was more a life for me than fishing."
When Milani mouthes 'Y'ston', the bronzerider shoots a long, serious look at her. Really! It seems to say. He brings his gaze back down to Yuliye and grins, casting off that look from earlier. "Dance?" There's a glance in the direction those who are doing just that. It's only been about two centuries since anyone has let him near a dance floor. "Why, sure. If you don't mind me being a little rusty." Just then Altina arrives, Betegal in tow. Luckily for A'son, she ignores him. Snubs him, even. She brings the young man up to Milani and Anvori. "Look who /I/ found. I don't know his name but he sure is /handsome/."
"Not going to grovel on Crom," insists K'del, somewhat more moodily now, though, you know, he has exchanged one pretty girl for another, so he can't be complaining /too/ much. All this said, he'll smile prettily - or, rather, /handsomely/ - at everyone else. Polite!
For a moment, Tiriana shoots a wide-eyed, pleading look at Evayne, but she nods, not able to bring herself to stop the girl's exit. "Yeah, sure. Go on. I'll see you around." Doesn't mean she has to be enthusiastic about it, though. As Evayne leaves, the Weyrwoman only sighs. "Whatever," she says, not believing but not pressing it for once. Instead, she's dragging on his arm, toward the impromptu dance floor, now that they're alone. "Come on." Gotta get some use out of him, if she's going to be stuck with him. That drink? It's finished off fast, too.
Vaan smiles as he's starting to feel the drink's " Well it must be a fairly nice job to have considering all you have to do is make drink's. Fishing is good way to pass the time but I would not take it as a job just for a time waster." he takes a swig from his glass " No matter what it's a good drink."
The arguing, the downing, the might-have-been-an-explosion that wasn't, through all of it Leova watches Whitchek with careful, attentive patience. Her voice lowers. "Thank you." And for it, he gets an explanation, after a nod to Vaan recognizes and agrees: "You're right: don't want you to look at her the wrong way, by which I mean /anything/ she doesn't like, anything that's going to make her or me think you don't respect her and what she's earned. Don't mean, stay away." Get it? "Where you're wrong: punishing. Pretty sure. Why'd you go and think that?"
Milani shoots another little look A'son's way but she subsides for as long as Yuliye is ... draping. She does drop her head a little though towards Anvori as he pivots hooks his hand at her elbow and murmurs something to him in an undertone. She mutters to Anvori, "... name. I... know..." Deep breath and she looks at her glass. Which is still mostly full. Up it goes. Chug. "Sure." Brightly.
"Dance," confirms Yu with an even brighter smile that harkens of rainbows and unicorns. Really. Lucky for 'Y'ston,' she's had etiquette and dance lessons galore to know how to lead a male without them losing all their man points and without her losing any toes. She'll need them tonight, if /that/ glance back over her shoulder to find K'del means anything at all. Mmm. But back to the man at hand and the task before her: dance and make small talk. Plaintive, "You never came by to have cake."
There is an apologetic look offered to Tiriana, but Evayne does not retract her words. "We'll find you soon," she promises. Yes. Soon. Lest is given a look. "Yes." Like, duh. There's another flashed smile towards K'del and then she's turning to drag Ulestien off in the direction of the drink line and away from conversations that so make her want to open her mouth. Once she's made said escape, she asks a little more quietly, "What's wrong with you?" A little gesture with her free hand towards the glass that /isn't/ alcohol. Still, her question /is/ threaded with a tease.
Betegal is actually kind of blushing by the time that he's dragged toward people and that only turns a deeper shade in the wake of that very last word from Altina. "Betegal," he offers, voice a little quiet like he's not entirely sure he's actually supposed to be saying anything. Which is kind of ridiculous all on its own. He glances briefly at Milani, then looks away quickly.
"Thank you," Whitchek says to Vaan, although looking at Leova at the time. See? Proof. But after that it's just bafflement towards Leova. "Then what're you doing... hanging on me before?" Not that she is at the moment. But, you know, in that infinitely brief period earlier which is going to be burned on his brain for all eternity. Or at least the rest of the evening. "Talk about not polite." The mental filter that's always in overdrive around the supposedly fairer sex seems to be breaking down.
K'del looks almost as though he, too, would like Evayne to stay; is that a 'help' on his face? But he pushes it away for a smile, politely tipping his head after the trader and the candidate, then turns his attention back to Tiriana. Awkward, for a moment, he still manages to stumble into motion without too much hesitation as she begins to drag him. "Where are--" But it's obvious, pretty quickly, and he shuts his mouth again. "Know you don't think I can handle myself, but I can. Not a complete idiot, you know." Beat. "Nice to know that I'm good enough to dance with /now/." Unlike at graduation.
Anvori looks in bemusement at Y'ston with the brunette, though not distracted enough by that pairing to not notice the way Milani avoids looking over there at the draped pair. The hand at her arm tightens and then turns into a slide about her waist in a reassuring half-hug before the warmth of it drifts away. He should get her a new drink and this time, takes her old one to exchange out. The handymen have finished the bonfire and there's a little yelping squeal of a teenage girl in excitement that starts to run through the crowd. It's this excited crowd that Anvori must navigate which gives him pause: jostling people, potential fire, alcohol at hand, maybe not now? "Maybe not just yet?" he says low to Milani, even as a smile quickly climbs back to his lips at Altina and Betegal's approach. "Anvori, Snowasis' bartender or one of them and this is Milani, the Headwoman here." In case he doesn't know.
The players start back up, lively dancing tunes since many couples are starting to head that way. But Rorkes is still on his break, giving his voice a well-earned rest while he traverses the lakeshore for the party. With his water finished, he eventually winds up in the line for something stronger than that. And somehow, he falls in line right behind Evayne and Ulestien; another inadvertant eavesdropping. His half-smile of recognition is definitely sheepish before he glances away.
"Well, maybe I /would/ have." A'son says as he brings Yuliye away from the group of people and to the dancing arena. He's not totally lousy at it, but it's clear he hasn't done this in awhile. "You see, it's very difficult to come visit a woman when you don't know where her rooms are." He gives another little shrug, "Or what her name is to find out where her rooms are. And 'the pretty brunette' doesn't really do the trick, see."
Altina releases Betegal now they're back to the group. She's beaming. "Isn't he a /nice/ young man? Been escorting me!" Her eyes alight onto Anvori and there's just a totally brilliant smile for him. "Oh my! I'm going to have to visit that place more often if the bartenders look like you!" She looks down at her empty glass of wine. There's a giggle. "Oh dear. I think this stuff is getting to my head. I didn't realize it could affect you this quickly? Is this my first or second?" She stares at Milani as if she should know. "A'son!" The woman calls, looking around. Her son is spotted dancing with the brunette. "Boys. She looks like a hussy, doesn't she?" Glance to Milani.
"And yet you're strolling around /our/ clutching party with Crom on your arm?" Tiriana levels a duh sort of look on K'del. "Faranth. Men are hopeless. --Do you even know /how/ to dance?" Because these thoughts are clearly related as they arrive on the dancefloor, and she starts to fall automatically into position. But a beat later, she's pausing putting her hands on his shoulders to eye his own in turn. "If you even /think/ about feeling me up--." We'll leave that to imagination.
"Ah," says the pretty brunette flirtatiously, her lashes lifting wide about her large hazel eyes. A correction plays about her curved smile, "You didn't ask for the prettiest brunette." Of course, that's exactly why he couldn't find her. Yuliye whirls him around the shore though the squeal of the bonfire about to be lit garners her fleeting attention. "You can also hold me a little tighter you know. I promise, I wasn't raised to be one of those girls," is said at the same time Altina makes her hussy appraisal.
That slide of Anvori's arm around her slants Milani's gaze sideways at the bartender and she smiles a little, lets her hand rest atop his for the scant seconds that his hand curls at her hip. "No rush," she tells him tilting her empty glass and then there's Betegal to greet. "Hey there Bety, how's the new shift going?" she asks him and smiles over at Anvori. "Betegal and I grew up together." Altina's interjection opens and shuts the headwoman's mouth and she just smiles at A'son's mother. "That's Lord Crom's niece, Yuliye, Altina. I'm sure she's very ... nice."
"/You/ didn't seem so inclined to actually touch me, until I did that," points out K'del, not exactly speaking an untruth, though that's hardly the reason why he was feeling up Yuliye. "Of course I know how to dance," he adds, though he might as well not bother; as Tiriana falls into position, so does he, arms drawing about her waist as he seeks the beat. "Right, right, I'll never touch another woman again. At least I'd go happily, I suppose. Nice dress." He completely /doesn't/ glance at Yuliye over Tiriana's shoulder. Except for the fact that he totally does.
"What wasn't polite?" Leova protests. "Didn't spill your drink, did you?" And has her meat-skewer gone cold? She eats what's left of the poor dead animal anyway, quick-like, with an equally sudden swallow before continuing. And then suddenly memory must bring back what she's looking for, given how her eyes have gone wide in consternation, "Whit. /Whit/. Wasn't trying to... to make time with /you/. If that's what you think. Seem like a nice young man and all. But." At least she lowers her voice even further, meant for his ears alone. "Didn't you see what Anvori did, you know, the one who poured your drink? He /does/ those things. Don't know how he gets away with them, but he does, and I just... I. Don't always think straight."
Ulestien is following as Evayne drags him off and he's not glancing back towards the others behind them. Evayne's question has him shaking his head. "Nothing is wrong.." Nope, but he's tilting his head in a direction away from the group. "We can go talk.. Where there's less people."
"I got searched," Betegal says to Milani, trying not to look uncomfortable now that he's not being bodily moved around. Or maybe he's uncomfortable about what he says to Milani. It's always a little hard to tell where Betegal is concerned with these things. He smiles and nods and/or waves to others that greet him, polite.
Tiriana eyes K'del, and while she glances once more at his hand positioning, she doesn't adjust it any. Instead, "Thanks. Not that you're even looking at me. Who are you--/K'del/." She glowers--no, pouts--when she cranes her neck over her shoulder to see Yuliye, then gives him another look. "Just because I don't want you doesn't mean anybody /else/ gets you." Sulk.
Enlightened as to the relationship between Milani and Betegal, Anvori, as the lone person not of Reaches natively, maintains his smile. But as the Headwoman and the new-made candidate might have much to talk of, the brewer, very slowly, pulls himself away. Ostensibly to get Milani a drink, but more to observe the bonfire get lit as night begins to fall.
Vaan yawns and his jaw makes a cracking sound. " Well I have things to do tommorow so I guess I better head to bed soon." he takes a large glup of his glass and finishes his skewer. Waving to the people he was talking to. " Have a good evening everyone.Nice meeting you Anvori." he walks off towards the the dorms.
"Oh," Y'ston (oh boy) laughs, "Well. Next time I'll ask for the prettiest brunette who's name starts with 'Yu'." He pauses to give her a knowing look. "Because I know that's not your entire name." Her imparted knowledge to him about what type of girl she is receives a lift of his eyebrow. That hand that's around her waist, suddenly draws her much closer, tighter. Maybe even dangerously close. His lips curve into a smile. "What about that, too much?" He asks, amusement twinkling in his eyes.
"Does *what* things?" asks Whitchek almost plaintively, although there's less strain in his voice than before, and certainly loud enough for everybody around to hear because he doesn't exactly get what the discretion is for. And he looks at Anvori while he's saying it, too. "But. You weren't thinking straight. That's okay. Times like this can do that. Too much alcohol," never mind that this all originally started before that had begun to be the case, "and bad things happen. Sometimes... extremely bad things. Very, very bad." He seems to have somewhat lost the original train of thought. "I forgive you," then, generously.
"Hey," Evayne greets Rorkes with a smile, given that she's turned her head to look back in the direction she and Lest came from. Anything else that might have been further said, she's distracted from, eyes jumping back up to Ulestien at his words. Oh, the sunny smile fades, replaced by a little frown. "But-" Pout. "Okay." Eyes swing back to Rorkes, and she's smiling at him /oh/ so winningly. "We have to go talk, for a minute." Because dangit, /party/. Only a minute! "I don't have a drink yet -- can you grab me one, since you're in line? Maybe?" Hopeful, oh so hopeful. Lest is shot a concerned look, sidelong. His hand is squeezed. Yeah, she's not buying the nothing's wrong.
Altina's jaw drops at this new knowledge. "He's dancing with Lord Crom's niece!" The older woman practically shouts this information. She spins around suddenly, looking around. Her eyes alight on A'son out there dancing. "Oh my. Oh my. This isn't good. What is he thinking? He's going to be /jailed/." She turns her eyes onto Milani again. "How could you let him do that!"
"Evening." It's all right to pay them attention then, once Evayne greets him; and Rorkes offers a much improved smile to the pair. And the harper's quick to reassure: "Oh, sure. I don't mind. Go ahead." And he even makes a little shooing sort of motion for her in the process. Except-- "Oh, er. What would you like?" Important information, that.
"Oh did you? I haven't re-checked the list," Milani tells Betegal apologetically. "Congratulations!" she says to the new-made candidate and sticks her hand out towards him. Anvori's retreat draws her gaze though, briefly, over her shoulder and there's a trace of 'don't go' to her expression. Especially as Altina goes bonkers. "I'm sure that Yuliye won't do that," the headwoman says with a shake of her head. "That's all ancient history, Altina. It'll be good for all of us you know, to be friendly."
"Adorable things," Leova says, only she says it /darkly/, like he could get himself beheaded for it, and then she's following Whit's glance toward the man himself. And the fire. And she, she's getting that sideways smile all over again. Focus! No doubt a sip of that alcohol of which Whit had spoken will help. "Anyhow. Good. So if I do it again, you'll know it's just a friendly thing. What people do around here. Not to throw anyone's shoulder out of joint."
If Y'ston's hand keeps where it is and they continue to dance hip-to-hip, though admittedly at least fifty percent (if not more!) of that inappropriate pressing inward and upward is on Yuliye's part. If everything in this little scenario stays true, 'Y'ston' might get jailed for the very first time. Or at least punched by Lord Crom, or something equally if not more miserable. Y'ston, cause this isn't A'son, right? "Mmmmmmmmm," is her guttural exhalation, cat-like contentment enveloping that single sound. Her arms wrap all the tighter: the one about his waist helping to draw her in closer, the one around his neck making her be all the more drapey, for Milani's benefit. "Maybe not enough. Tell me about yourself. Your cousin? Was it? Has so notoriety and there's nothing I've heard about you."
K'del does not have the grace to look /truly/ repentent for being caught in the act like that, tipping his head up instead to look amused at Tiriana's reaction. "Man has needs, Tiriana. You don't want me, got to try and find it elsewhere. Though," and he grins, this time, an outright smile, "Yuliye turned me down, though, so you don't have to worry too much. Just looking. I'll keep my eyes on your cleavage, though, for now, if you prefer." True to his word, he's not a bad dancer, if not terribly flashy, either.
Ulestien nods at Rorkes, slowly, but it's obvious he's distracted. A smiles towards Evayne, "just a minute." He agrees, "promise. Won't be longer than a few words." A glance around before he nods towards the diving cliff.
"Thank you!" Evayne chirps, and then she's turning to try and drag Lest away, except there's a question and so she's pausing to flash a smile. "Sweet, and very alcoholic. I don't care beyond that. Thank you /so/ much. We'll be right back." Okay, /then/ they can go. A few words! Eva shoots Lest another look, though this one is more 'what are you up to' sort of concern rather than 'is he okay?' No further prodding at him though, she's just moving towards the diving cliff when it's nodded to.
A'son for now Y'ston, keeps his hands just where they are. Regardless of how he's possibly going to be jailed for this later on. There's another shake of his dark head when she makes her noise and he leans down to speak in her ear. "I like to keep a low profile. I try to avoid things that get me into trouble. I don't want notoriety, fame, anything. Sometimes it's far better to be an unnamed face in the crowd. What do you think?" He asks, looking past her shoulder.
Betegal takes Milani's hand briefly, then glances toward Anvori and then down at the ground. "Thanks," he says, then quickly, "I think I need to get going now, sorry." He moves back and away quickly and tries to disappear into the bustle and head back toward the caverns. Flee!
Altina is watching that hussy of holder drape herself all over her precious son. "A'son! Are you crazy!" She calls over the crowd. "You're going to go to /jail/. Again!" But there's so much noise, it's unlikely her voice carries over to them. She turns to Milani, face all red. "Dear. Are you sure?" Uncertainty fills her eyes, tears are almost ready to roll out of them. Then Betegal is running off. "Oh dear! Dear. Did I scare that nice young man off?" Guilt!
"It's a Weyr," and this is not news. "There are plenty of whores out there who'd love to say they did the Weyrleader--and they aren't Crom's niece, either." Tiriana pointedly eyes K'del again, but at least getting onto him about that keeps her from snapping about her cleavage. Which, for the record, is none too shabby in this dress. "Faranth. You shouldn't even look at her; she's dangerous. And I can say this because she's my best friend." And... this is some way to talk about your bestie.
Adorable things. Whitchek takes another glance at Leova, a glance at Anvori heading for the bar, and then back to Leova again. He mouths the word at her: Adorable? Another glance at Anvori, lingering a moment. Back. "Please, don't do it again," he says to Leova, tone much more serious than the words would indicate. "Just... please." Extremely odd sort of thing to say. He regards his glass. He regards hers, even if it's not empty. "Do you want another?"
Oh yes, she understands and for a moment a genuine note of surprise flares bright in those light eyes. It's just enough to startle her into momentary silence. Yuliye blinks twice up at A'son and reflexively, instead of tightening, releases him. She even steps back out of the dance and his dancing embrace. "Yes. I understand." Which is why she can't dance with him anymore. But she'll lean all prettily with her low cut dress and the shawl that's barely pinned to her shoulders, and remarks low, "Thank you for the short dance, A'son. Yuliye. That's my name." Dark lashes, pretty eyes, pursed lips, and a very casual 'accidental' glance offered down her dress. "Good night."
Anvori's return with a new glass, two glasses of brandy this time is slow and on his way back, that gaze of his drifts involuntarily back to where Whitchek and Leova were and apparently still her. In this drift, he happens on Whitchek looking his way at the same time. Funny that! A crooked smile and drop of his chin pairs with a wink of acknowledgement, and then he's by Milani once more. "Brandy. Cherry. It'll warm you up."
"'Whores' implies I pay for my women, which I don't. But you're right: not many people turn down the Weyrleader." The steady parade of women coming and going from K'del's weyr is certainly indication enough of this, though right now, he only smiles blandly as he says it. "Can handle myself. Would've thought she'd be equally dangerous to you, best friend or not. But I'm sure you can handle yourself, too. She's a tricky girl, but not that hard to read." Or so he thinks.
Leova has a rueful nod for Whit's silent question, one that might even verge on shamefaced, only then her attention catches: "Why?" Before the does-she-want-another. Enough before, that she might not even have heard it.
"No really, it'll be okay, Altina," Milani says sincerely and blinks as Betegal ... flees. One of the headwoman's hands presses to the side of her head, the other reaches to rest gently on A'son's mother's forearm. "No, he probably had a long day. A lot of excitement in being Searched!" Deep breath and a blink because Anvori's back with the brandy and she smiles at the bartender. "Cherry. Good stuff." And this time she doesn't chug but sips as her gaze wanders the dance floor to find A'son and his ... no longer drapey partner.
A'son doesn't try to keep her in place, he lets her go. Perhaps he catches the startled look in her eyes, the surprise. His lips curve up in to a smile, eyes searching her face. "I'm glad, you understand." The accidental look down her chest is ignored, with the revelation of identities, he takes a step back. "Say hello to your family for me. I miss their hospitality." He wiggles his fingers at her and that step back? Turns into several more and then he's gone, disappearing into the crowd.
Caught, Whitchek has the grace to redden, but only just barely before Leova's question. That, even after a couple drinks, he can answer: "It's not proper." You see, he has an excuse. It works for everything. It's so ingrained he probably even believes it. "Drink?" he asks again, raising his own glass by way of reminder.
"Why?" Leova repeats. Though this time: "Yes." She even lifts hers, an absent gesture that might as easily be, yes-she-has-one.
She might even look a little sad as she watches A'son disappear into that crowd. Yuliye might even wilt a little bit, the pink petal dress she wears and that white shawl seeming to sag with that sudden confirmation of what she might have already suspected. But a girl can only look mournful for so long at a party like this, and though she doesn't rejoin the crowd, Yu, too, slips away.
"You pay. Maybe not marks, but." It's a moot point to Tiriana, who shrugs her shoulders. "Anyway. She's my friend, that's how I /know/ she's dangerous. Nobody's really friends with me, not like that. They all just want something. Kind of like none of those girls actually like /you/." Hint hint. At least she dances quite well, even when reprimanding him.
"I like cherries," is all Anvori says simply in return. He stands there, all gentlemanly and perhaps even big brotherly by Milani's shoulder. He'll even smile all indulgence and good humor at Altina's diatribe about Crom and his hussy of a niece and perhaps look across the way to see A'son and his drapey partner's dance come to an abrupt end with the girl left forlorn on the dance floor before disappearing too. There's /a lot/ to watch and hear and absorb and it takes the bartender a moment to catch up, even if by catching up, he has to close his eyes and tip his head back to gain some sense of equilibrium. "You doing ok, red?" How many times will he ask her this question in one night?
"You ask too many questions for a lady," says Whitchek accusingly to Leova, and he doesn't answer that one. Alas. In some prior era of mankind's history he would have had chapter and verse to quote her. "Do you *want*--" He starts to press the drink question, seems to think better of it, and just heads off to the bar, leaving her to stand there or follow or do whatever it is that women like that do in the absence of good, moral young men to persecute.
Where is her /son/. And where is that /hussy/. They're both gone by the time Altina turns away from Milani. "Head/woman/! They're gone, gone!" Is that sheer terror on the older woman's face? In her voice? "He's been taken! Right from under my nose. Oh we'll see about this. I'll track her down and find her before she gets him into any rotten jail cell. Women, can't trust any of those hussies." Before she can be stopped, she's gone. Rushing through the crowds with her skirts all hiked up.
Cadejoth> Oh, if only Cadejoth could look into that weyr. Peer one of his huge eyes in to see Yuliye making short work of her clothes, leaving them in a puddled trail from the entrance to the tub back there. Or see her sprawl all nude and pretty along the tub's stone sides before dropping herself in. "Mmmm, I definitely need one of these in my room." If only Cadejoth could see or care to see and convey all /that/ to K'del. Naked girl in his room alert! Naked girl in his tub alert!
Cadejoth> Cadejoth may not make a habit of /looking/ through the door into K'del's weyr, but he's got to be aware of where his rider is, right? And that's not in the weyr. So, when there are sounds, /in/ the weyr - dragons can hear, can't they? And does the sound of him rumbling, slightly, out on the ledge, make it all the way in? It's a beautiful day, the curtain between weyr and ledge left ajar. But maybe that'll be enough. Otherwise, in the meantime: hot water, private bath.
<< You're ba-- no, you're not. >>
Huh?
<< There's someone moving around in your weyr. >>
WHAT? Who?
"How?" K'del seems genuinely unable to think of an answer to his own question, this idea of paying, even if not in marks, for the company of the girls around him. "That's really sad. That you don't have real friends, because you think they all want something from you. /I/ have real friends. Have, since before I Impressed. Plenty of girls wanted me back then, too, pimpley faced or not." There's a hitch in his step at that point, like something has momentarily distracted him, causing him to lose the beat entirely.
A lot indeed. Milani's hand is wrapped around that brandy like it's a lifesaver as she continues to try to calm Altina. "She's gone to dance with someone else, mostly likely, really and A'son's smart, he's just --" but she's running off a-rushing and Milani lets out a soft sigh, watches her go. Anvori's question draws her gaze back to him and she takes a healthy swig of the brandy. "It /was/ a good day," she says after a moment and sighs softly, closes her eyes. The remnants of Whitchek and Leova's 'discussion' bleeds through the ambient crowd noise and she cracks her eyes open. "Might have another rescue to make," she notes after a moment, nodding their way.
"You just do!" Which means Tiriana has no clue, either; it just sounded good. She glares at him, just for a minute, and then declares, words very clipped, "Well, I've never just been some pimply-faced kid--and not just because I didn't have acne. I'm the Weyrleader's daughter, and now a Weyrwoman and--people always want something. Even if it's just sex." Although she certainly doesn't seem to mind whatever it is Yuliye might want during their own lunches and such; just when the other girl's macking on her Weyrleader.
"Never claimed I was one," says Leova, watching Whit's departing back, getting that narrow-eyed look again. She doesn't follow him, not right off anyhow, standing still as people come and go about her. It's a little while more before she turns, sipping her drink, letting the bubbles tickle her lip while she casts about for the fire and where that bartender used to be.
Cadejoth> Yuliye certainly enjoys her privacy, even going so far as to sing songs with nonsensical lyrics, replacing the real ones with whatever comes to mind or a hum when she doesn't know the words. There's sound of splashing, of a sponge being squeezed, of a head submerging in the water and then coming up with a small splash. Perhaps that sound of him rumbling has made it all in, the head peering out from the side of the baths to crane a look to the ledge entrance. Dripping water everywhere and smiling sunnily, she also waves a lazy little finger wiggle to what of the bronze dragon she can see. "Congratulations, papa dragon."
Cadejoth> Cadejoth has got to be pretty used to naked girls in the weyr, and probably on his ledge, too, but that doesn't stop his head from lifting off of great, enormous forelimbs to get a better look at Yuliye - now. Well, look at that. He lets out another rumble, this one slightly more enthusiastic: papa dragon! Even if he has been banned from getting close to his own offspring.
Anvori, being neither good nor moral, is unfortunately not persecuted. But he gleams amused eyes at Whitchek's stalking away and then swings his head to find Leova just standing there with her gaze cast about the fire. Does he know she's looking for him? An arm drops to Milani's elbow and something indecipherable is mumbled -- an excuse or an apology by the sound of it -- but it doesn't matter for it all leads to Anvori taking two steps away from Milani, two steps further into that crowd to stand still and watch the greenrider, amused.
Cadejoth extends an image, slightly blurry, but still indication enough: why look, there's a naked girl in the tub. And guess who it is?
WHAT!
<< She's sweet! Papa dragon! That's what I am, even if Iovniath doesn't want me there. Little itty bitty Cadejoths! >>
I'll be there in a minute.
Normally, K'del might roll his eyes, but he's trying really, really hard. Also, frowning, and looking away again, off into the distance. "Bully for you," he tells Tiriana, but he's obviously distracted. "Cheer up, I'm sure she just looks up to you, and wants to sleep with me because you did. It's a flattery thing, complete respect." Right. Sure. Then: "Excuse me, Cadejoth needs me." Or perhaps has just provided him with a very /interesting/ visual indeed. Either way.
Quiet sigh and Milani nurses her cherry-flavored drink again, looks about at the crowd and slips away from where Anvori moves towards Leova. She's got her own rider to search out in the throng right now, still holding that glass tightly as she looks this way and that.
Unfortunately? Unfortunately? Whitchek is gone for a bit. Some negotiating in the determination of exactly what the beverage he'd been served last was, some gesturing in the direction where he last saw Anvori--where he resolutely refuses to actually look again, leading to a gesture at someone else entirely--and a bit of argument. But, on the up side, it's still not a woman he has to deal with. So, there's that.
"If she were going to sleep with one of us," Tiriana retorts, "it'd be me." Of course, this probably doesn't help anything K'del's visualizing, but she's too busy looking miffed at being abandoned by him. She lets him go with a sniff. "Fine, go. I bet he does." Excuses, excuses; and she's exiting the dancefloor at last. When her stomach rumbles, she veers toward the food tables to finally eat something; and by the way she starts loading a plate, to test just how much she can eat without bursting her seams.
Looking, looking, with a spin on her toes that makes her flared cuffs snap on the resulting breeze... and then at last, a laugh, and Leova's making her way to Anvori's side. As though accusingly: "You moved."
Yeah. No. That's not helping at /all/, not by K'del's expression as Tiriana says that. It's enough that he lingers where he is, standing quite still, as she wanders off, struck completely immobile. But not for /that/ long; after a few seconds, he takes a deep breath, frowning at something that clearly isn't directly in front of him, and heads off through the crowd, towards the bowl.
Cadejoth> Both of those bare, wet arms drape over the bath's edge and her chest must be all squished against the tub's side. Still! She seems pretty cheerful as she continues to regard Cadejoth from afar. "It's too bad," she reflects aloud, "That you can't join me." Why yes, she's flirting teasingly with a dragon. "But it's probably for the best. The tub /is/ awfully small." Her head hangs briefly, chin touched to bath's edge, then her head turns so she might look to the new almost-dad again. "Proud? Lots of babies? Why aren't you out there right now? I thought that's what the papa dragons do." And yes, she's carrying out a conversation, however one-sided, with a dragon.