Weyrlings No More
Who: B'kaiv, G'dri, Jantha, Jiella, M'try, T'rev
When: It is a winter afternoon, day 25, month 1, turn 22 of Interval 10.
Where: Living Cavern, FTW
What: The weyrlings are weyrlings no more, but full riders all tapped into wings. Time to celebrate!
Living Cavern, Fort Weyr
The interior of the living cavern is luxurious, relatively speaking -- the walls are smoothed and there are wall sconces in addition to the myriad array of glow baskets and lamps used to keep the place well lit. It's a large space, suited to handle large numbers of people, with dozens of tables arranged strategically throughout; serving tables are also conveniently located at various intervals. Tapestries hang on the walls, many of them having been there for hundreds of turns and periodically taken down for cleaning and restoration.
Up a flight of stairs would be the kitchens, where much of the hustle and bustle can be heard, if not seen. Food is transported down via discretely located dumb waiters and dispersed by servers as necessary, but the aromas of food being prepared is as pervasive as the constant chatter of people as they drift through in search of food, drink, or company. Servers are generally available to assist and ensure that cups are filled and tables are cleaned regularly.
To the west is both the main entrance to the bowl and also the night hearth, which is kept stocked with fresh klah and pots of stew. Other hearths are scattered throughout, radiating heat and warmth as well as providing gathering spots for private discussions. To the east, a short flight of stairs leads down to the inner caverns, while a stout wooden door with a purple caduceus to the south leads to the infirmary.
Let it not be said that Cirse's staff do not know how to put on a good party. THe buffet is set up generously with all manner of easy to pick up and take with you bites to eat, a bar 'station' has been set up to provide mixed drinks and a quartet of harpers is currently providing subtle background music. People are drifting in from around the Weyr, but there's already a solid contingent of parents and other family of weyrlings who came from outside the Weyr present, talking and enjoying drinks and food. Among them, the Weyrleaders mingle, shaking hands and making conversation, though T'rev's just split away from a little cluster to get a refill on his drink with a blithe: "Fill 'er up," to the temporary barkeep.
Failure on the part of - well, anyone, really - to recognise Jantha without a second look would be entirely excusable, as this is almost certainly the first time that Fort Weyr has ever seen its Weyrlingmaster in a dress. She's carrying it off without more than the occasional discreet glance at where her hem has got to. She's been circulating among her erstwhile charges, but now makes her way to the servery and secures a glass of fruit juice from the bartender. Turning away, she acknowledges T'rev by raising her glass to him. "Weyrleader."
Enter B'kaiv and G'dri from the bowl, the pair pausing to give their jackets to whomever's providing coat-check service. For once the greenrider doesn't look like he got dressed in the dark, or out of someone else's castoffs, but he has a way to go before outshining anyone but himself. "There's S'lien," he mutters, nodding to the other greenrider like G'dri couldn't see the boy himself. "Gonna go get something t' drink. You want nothing?" Really, it's only manners that keeps him at the bluerider's side long enough to get an answer instead of dashing straight for the alcohol.
Rugged and slightly rough around the edges, Kai is one of those young men who looks perpetually scuffed. Well-tanned skin tells the tale of many days spent working under the rays of the sun, while dusty brown hair is chopped short enough to barely rumple when he runs his hand back over it. His nose is broad and slightly askew, his chin is square and stubborn under mutinous lips, and the tip of his left ear sports a notch, long healed. His face usually wears an impassive, unimpressed mask, though occasionally his eyes, a hazel predominated by brown, will light and the mask drop away. B'kaiv's shoulders are wide and broad, echoed by his arms and hands, both of which are thick and muscular. He stands a thumb's width over six feet with a growling muttered baritone of a voice and is probably about 21 turns.
Sober rather than flashy, his outfit nonetheless catches the eye - perhaps more a matter of who's wearing it than what he's wearing. Black boots tuck under dark grey trousers, close-fitting but not too tight. A black belt with pouches breaks up the smooth lines from toe to head, though perhaps only a Weaver would care. His shirt is several shades of grey from dove to slate, pieced rather than ombre, with the palest hues near his face and hands in a band collar and simple button cuffs. On his left shoulder he wears the knot of a Fort Weyr rider twined with green. His jacket, when he wears it, bears Obsidian's badge.
"Congratulations Jantha on another successful group," T'rev replies easily to the weyrlingmaster's greeting as his glass is returned to him with a fresh serving of red wine. "And you look lovely in that dress," he compliments further, holds out a hand to shake hers.
Amused but typically quietly so, G'dri just smiles his signature smile and gives a brief nod. "An ale, please," he replies, not in the least put out by Kai's antsiness to get at the booze. He'll follow at a sedate pace, less focused on getting to the drinks and more in pausing to deliver quiet greetings along the way.
B'kaiv says, "Ale, right," with a nod and a quick smile that's really more of a grimace. Abandoning G'dri to his own devices, the greenrider bulls through the crowd as politely as he can, ending up not far from both Weyrleader and Weyrlingmaster. He sends a, "Hey," over in their direction, a nod as well, but then the server'd like to know what he'll have. "Two ales and a whiskey." Once the -important- part is taken care of, then he can relax and offer the others, "Good party."
Jantha swaps her glass from one hand to the other, then shakes T'rev's hand. "Thank you. They've done well, despite everything." She gives a rueful smile. "This has certainly been an unusual class: I've never had a weyrling abducted by raiders before. However, the future's ahead of them now."
"In spite of everything," T'rev agrees with a renewed flash of his smile and a firming of his grip before his hand drops away. He steps aside as others come to get drinks. Kai's greeting earns a lifted glass. "Here's to Cirse's excellent taste in party planning," the Weyrleader notes jovially. "And to future classes of weryrlings /not/ having to deal with kdinappings."
G'dri finally ambles his way over, on the tail-end of that toast, maneuvering himself to end up nearish to Kai once more. A wide smile that crinkles his eyes accompanies the downward dip of his chin in a nod towards both Jantha and T'rev. "Weyrleader, Weyrlingmaster," he greets his bosses. Boss and former-? "A good day to you both."
Kai greets G'dri with another all-purpose, "Hey," just like he didn't leave the older man only a short while earlier. "Hope they don't got t' deal with no raiders," he opines with a tight smile just as the bartender arrives with his drinks. He promptly hands one ale to G'dri and upends the whiskey into the other, claiming that one for himself.
"B'kaiv. G'dri." Jantha smiles at the two, and the glass is raised again, for all it only has juice in it. "B'kaiv, that reminds me: I must thank you for your help with the self-defence. You did a good job." She gives G'dri a conspiratorial grin. "Do you think we should book him for the next class now?"
"G'dri," T'rev greets the bluerider with a nod as he approaches as well, then pauses to take a sip from his glass. "Sounds like that was a pretty good match up of skills," the Weyrleader says conversationally of Kai's assistance with this group. The four are clustered near the bar that's been setup, though standing out of the immediate flow of traffic for those fetching beverages. A quartet of harpers plays background music and the buffet has been set up with a vertiable smorgasbord of finger foods.
With only a glance for the dumping of whiskey into ale, G'dri accepts his unaltered beverage with a murmured word of thanks. With a heightened sparkle in his eyes, he laughs lightly and answers Jantha, "Were I to have a say in such a choice, I would think that yes, he would be well suited to continuing on in such capacity." Is he looking to get smacked? Which might possibly be why he follows that up with, "I dislike drinking on an empty stomach. Shall I put together a plate of things for us all?"
"Thanks, ma'am," B'kaiv tells Jantha with only a faint whitening of his knuckles on his mug. He does glance sidelong at G'dri's quip before offering (bravely?), "Could do that for next time maybe, sure. 'F you still want t' have me," thus leaving them both a gracious out. "Should go sit down? Only," to T'rev and Jantha, and he at least -sounds- regretful, "Guess you got t' be around for everyone t' say hey too, huh."
G'dri senses B'kaiv's eyes widen fractionally at the offer of food: G'dri wants to /leave/ him? Alone? With these two?
Jiella has the look of a woman making an appearance as she enters from the bowl; her steps are quick, her glance over the crowd is cursory, her gaze disinterested. The occasion doesn't warrant one of her gowns, but she still looks lovely in a soft, short, clinging cowl-neck sweater dress in a rosy pink, knee-high boots, and dangling pearl earrings. Once inside, there's only one of two choices, really - food or bar. And despite the fact that there's a few kind souls waving the blonde over to their spot in the buffet line, she eyes the bar, purses full lips, and moves in that direction.
"Thanks, G'dri," Jantha says, then spots a new arrival approaching and turns slightly to call a ringing greeting. "Jiella! Congratulations, brownrider! And every success in your new Wing." Which is pretty much what she's been saying to the rest of the ex-weyrlings that she's met, in fact.
"I've made the rounds, so I could take a little break," T'rev says with a ready smile for B'kaiv. "Just don't mind me if I need to shake hands and chat with proud parents every now and then," the Weyrleader adds jovially. He's in a good mood today it seems. Jiella's approach only serves to widen his smile and T'rev lifts his glass in her direction as she nears. "Congratulations, Jiella," he echoes Jantha. "You look lovely in pink," the compliment follows smoothly. "We were just sayin' that Kai's a good self-defence instructor, he taught you a thing or two didn't he?"
Why would G'dri need a gracious out? "You bring the valuable addition of true-life experience to your lessons, Kai. Some instructors I have seen in the past forget that real opponents won't follow rules or be mindful of safety. Would you mind holding this for me?" The ale, that is, as yet untasted. As Jantha and then T'rev call his attention to pretty-in-pink, he too has a smile and a, "Congratulations, Jiella. You are indeed, quite a vision." Like a master artist's painting, or a fine sculpture. "I was just heading over to grab some light snacks for us all... shall I add some for you?"
B'kaiv senses G'dri tilts his head, brows arching slightly as he notices the expression. the look in his own eyes warms, an attempt to convey without word or gesture: you'll be fine, I won't be gone long."
B'kaiv's certainly not going to fuss for his wingmate's arrival, but unlike T'rev he doesn't have a smooth greeting. 'Hey' is all-purpose, really, and it helps that he already has a beer so he doesn't have to gape, open-mouthed, at the brownrider but stare at the surface of his drink instead. Much safer. He grunts something that could be accepting for G'dri's request and compliment, but two mugs are as easy to hold as one, and then the greenrider nods at one of the rapidly-filling tables. "Could all go sit over there, if you want." A beat and he adds awkwardly, "How's Orisoth?"
Wincing a touch at the Weyrlingmaster's greeting, Jiella can nonetheless manage a polite smile for it, equally polite in response. "Thank you, Jantha." Now that she can call people by their name and it's a social occasion, what the hell. She's pretty in pink and standing by the bar set up in the cavern along with two-thirds of the weyrling staff, B'kaiv, and the Weyleader, who she's favouring with one of her more brilliant smiles for his congratulations. As for Kai and self-defense? Time to get a drink! Turning to find one, "Suppose so, though I'm not that good at it. I don't think it's my thing. And thank you, G'dri. I might grab a few things off the plate, but I don't know how long I'll be around, so use your judgement?" Kai's suggestion seems to get a response - hard to tell when she's talking to the bar - "Maybe. And he's pretty much how he usually is. Hope Chielyth's well." Brisk, civil.
M'try wouldn't be late to a party like this. And he sure wouldn't come hurrying into the room, brushing his hands through his hair busily like that will make it look anything other than windblown. There's a quick, smiled, "What was that? Ah, nowhere. How's the party?" to answer the question with which he's greeted a few steps in, exchanging good-to-see-you handshakes before trying to duck off and collect food. Which isn't progressing very quickly for him. Mostly because he's too polite to just cut someone off mid-sentence.
T'rev shoots Jiella another smile, warm in quality and nods in answer to Kai's query. "Right there? Sure, sounds good," and the Weyrleader's already moving, hand dropping to the back of a chair to draw it out for whichever of the ladies chooses to occupy it. M'try is spotted in his move towards the buffet and T'rev briefly lifts his glass in his wingrider's direction.
"Besides," continues Jantha with something of a smirk - she's still on the subject of B'kaiv's self-defence lessons, it seems. "The lads take it better when they're taught by someone who's young and male. Being put on the ground by a middle-aged woman isn't good for their self-esteem. Besides, I'd much rather they were taught by someone with more enthusiasm for the subject than I can usually muster." She glances across the room, and raises a hand in greeting when she sees M'try newly arrived.
G'dri, heading off towards the buffet, leaves the rest of the cluster at the drinks table to sort themselves out as far as where they're going to wind up sitting. Polite he may be, but he also moves with a purpose and doesn't pause long enough for anyone in-between to really get going with the chatting. Of course there's a line when he gets there, and he fits himself into it somewhat ahead of where he should rightly have ended up, just by dint of finally deciding to actually exchange more than a passing greeting.
There's a reason Kai teaches self-defense and not small talk, and this would be it: he's utter crap at small talk. "Yeah," he says, stilted, "She's good." But T'rev's making a break for it and Kai fair leaps upon the opportunity to do the same, claiming that, "All these people, should go get a couple plates. Hey, there's M'try." In case they haven't all seen him by now. Jantha and Jiella get thin, pained smiles, and then the greenrider hastily ghosts off to join G'dri, much to the chagrin of the person who's been bumped back not just once, but twice.
Glass of red wine held elegantly in one slim hand - that'd be the unbruised one - Jiella does eventually have turn around and consider her options. With a tilt of her head, she'll regard the table T'rev's chosen for a moment before shrugging and sauntering off in that direction. That is, after answering B'kaiv, still without looking at him, "Good." The greenrider tips her off about M'try, who she glances over at with brief, wary interest. How long do you have to be at a party to consider it an appearance anyway?
Hey, there's M'try, who eventually manages to detach himself from one of his clutchmates only by promising to come back and hear the end of that story before the party's over, but seriously starving right now, so catch up to him later? Great. To answer Jiella's brief glance, he smiles with obnoxious brightness-- she already hates him, so it's not like he has anything to lose-- on his way to claim that food. "Sir. Sir. Ma'am. Sir." That'd be T'rev. B'kaiv. Jantha. G'dri. As they're each passed or noticed or whatever.
"M'try." Another smile - Jantha seems to have one for everybody today. "Congratulations on escaping from weyrlinghood. How are you finding it?" She shoots a glance towards the queue where G'dri has gone to retrieve food before looking back at M'try. Maybe she's hungry: there's only a half-full glass in her hand at present.
Maybe one of G'dri's Smiles(tm) will help the one so cut-in-front-of feel better? No? Well, he tried, and apologetically too. As the line shuffles forward he waits for a natural break in the flow of the idle conversation he was having, before he clearly switches his attention to Kai. Tilting his head towards the greenrider, he says quietly, "Hey, relax? I'd say you look like you're about to face three much-larger men in a fight for all your marks, but I think you'd enjoy that somewhat more." They'll get to the food eventually, and the bluerider takes happy advantage of Kai's presence to claim two plates to fill instead of trying to balance a mountain of delectable tidbits onto just one. "M'try, there is no need for such formality," when one of those passing 'sirs' is realised to have been directed at him. "Congratulations on your new wing."
Wrinkling her nose for that obnoxious smile, Jiella just continues on her way over to T'rev at the table, who is relatively safe by her standards. Meaning, he won't be mean, and will tell her she's pretty. Eyeing the chair for a moment like she might be shackled to it if she takes it, she eventually sits, crosses her legs, scans the room with barely disguised impatience. May as well wait if someone's going to bring her food. Tilting a look up at the Weyrleader, "How's it going?"
Jiella earns herself another smile as she heads towards T'rev and that pulled out chair. Once she's sat down, he steps away to set his glass down and sits himself down too. "Pretty good, it's a nice party, most of the parents seem pleased enough though a few were askin' about whether or not it was /quite/ safe," the Weyrleader says with a little shake of his head. "You?"
Congratulations. "Thank you. Thank you." One for Jantha, one for G'dri, and M'try snags a plate with a glance along the buffet, taking his place at the back of the line. "It's a lot like being a weyrling, except that now I have a Wing badge and I get paid a bit more." He tilts his empty plate toward the luncheon and adds, "Plus, there appears to be a decent spread, so I can't exactly complain. You both must be enjoying a well-earned respite?"
B'kaiv swallows a snort at G'dri's comparison but can't keep a small smile from forming. "Yeah," he admits, gesturing around at the clumps of people, the conversation, the general party atmosphere. At least he hasn't started plucking at his shirt's neckline yet? That's always a sure sign of discomfort. There's a nod - but no hey, for a change - for M'try in passing, but does he invite the brownrider to cut in line too? Nope. Once their plates are full he turns to try and find the others, gives T'rev's table a nod. There it is. On the way past M'try again, he points it out to the younger man, inviting, "Got seats there, if you want." It's up to him now if he'll join.
Jantha laughs as she tells M'try, "Well, weyrlingmasters are a bit surplus to requirements, now that you've all joined wings. But, much as I'd /like/ to spend my time pottering in the herb garden, Imoth and I will need to find another way of making ourselves useful. We can't have the Weyrleader here thinking we don't earn our keep, after all!" That's said with a cheerful grin in T'rev's direction: she doesn't seem too worried at the prospect.
After a sip from her glass, Jiella is arching light brows at T'rev for 'safe', surprised. "Really? I hope..." She trails off, giving him a knowing look - he knows what she hopes. That no relatives are behind that particular concern. Glancing only briefly towards the group at the buffet, she just gives a diffident little shrug at the question and a bland, "Not bad." That's certainly not the whole of things, but she's not talking about it, and not talking about it here.
T'rev shakes his head slightly Jiella-wards in answer to her incomplete question. "I'm pretty sure at this point that we'll be able to pronounce things as safe as they were before soon enough." The Weyrleader's grin pulls to the side a little and he nods. "Better than bad-bad," he says quietly and under the table, his foot nudges towards hers companionably. "They're supposed to be playin' dance music in a little bit," a tilt of his glass towards the harpers. "Save me a dance?" he requests with a slight note of pleading married with cheer in his voice. "Here come Kai and G'dri with stuff to munch on."
G'dri follows the direction of Kai's nod, since he himself was scanning in rather the wrong direction. "And plenty more food," he tacks on to Kai's invitation towards M'try, lifting the plates he's holding as if further visual aid is required. Then it's back through the drifting mill of people to the table occupied by T'rev, Jantha and Jiella, to set those plates down with a humourous bow. "There we go. Should be plenty of choice here for everyone to find something they like." Once his hands are free he can use one to reclaim the mug of ale Kai's been kindly toting around, the other to snag a couple sandwich squares and some sort of batter-wrapped roll for himself. But instead of availing himself of the option of a chair, turns instead to peer again in the direction he was looking earlier. Aside to the greenrider, "I think I see C'rys over there. Want to see if we can get a game set up for later?"
M'try looks squarely at the blond amid the seats in question while he answers B'kaiv with a polite, "Thank you for the offer, sir." Which isn't to say he wants to join them, but that part might actually go without saying? He has a bit of time left to wait in line, anyway, teetering the edge of his plate against his chest to pass the time. "I somehow doubt, ma'am, that those are words we'd ever hear from our particular Weyrleader, but I'm sure your industry's appreciated."
Kai grunts a 'welcome' to M'try on his way back, relinquishes G'dri's ale, and picks up a couple of the sturdier-looking pastries as his price for fetching and carrying. "Food looks good," he essays in yet another attempt to try this 'conversation' thing, but the bluerider's suggestion is greeted with unconcealed relief. "/Yeah/. Regards t' Mecaith, sir, and Orisoth," to Jiella, naturally, and neither sir nor ma'am for her, before the greenrider cuts off through the crowd as quickly as he might, leaving G'dri to follow in his wake.
G'dri makes his own polite farewells, regards to dragons and all that, but then, he's got a greenrider to follow and a poker game to set up.
When: It is a winter afternoon, day 25, month 1, turn 22 of Interval 10.
Where: Living Cavern, FTW
What: The weyrlings are weyrlings no more, but full riders all tapped into wings. Time to celebrate!
Living Cavern, Fort Weyr
The interior of the living cavern is luxurious, relatively speaking -- the walls are smoothed and there are wall sconces in addition to the myriad array of glow baskets and lamps used to keep the place well lit. It's a large space, suited to handle large numbers of people, with dozens of tables arranged strategically throughout; serving tables are also conveniently located at various intervals. Tapestries hang on the walls, many of them having been there for hundreds of turns and periodically taken down for cleaning and restoration.
Up a flight of stairs would be the kitchens, where much of the hustle and bustle can be heard, if not seen. Food is transported down via discretely located dumb waiters and dispersed by servers as necessary, but the aromas of food being prepared is as pervasive as the constant chatter of people as they drift through in search of food, drink, or company. Servers are generally available to assist and ensure that cups are filled and tables are cleaned regularly.
To the west is both the main entrance to the bowl and also the night hearth, which is kept stocked with fresh klah and pots of stew. Other hearths are scattered throughout, radiating heat and warmth as well as providing gathering spots for private discussions. To the east, a short flight of stairs leads down to the inner caverns, while a stout wooden door with a purple caduceus to the south leads to the infirmary.
Let it not be said that Cirse's staff do not know how to put on a good party. THe buffet is set up generously with all manner of easy to pick up and take with you bites to eat, a bar 'station' has been set up to provide mixed drinks and a quartet of harpers is currently providing subtle background music. People are drifting in from around the Weyr, but there's already a solid contingent of parents and other family of weyrlings who came from outside the Weyr present, talking and enjoying drinks and food. Among them, the Weyrleaders mingle, shaking hands and making conversation, though T'rev's just split away from a little cluster to get a refill on his drink with a blithe: "Fill 'er up," to the temporary barkeep.
Failure on the part of - well, anyone, really - to recognise Jantha without a second look would be entirely excusable, as this is almost certainly the first time that Fort Weyr has ever seen its Weyrlingmaster in a dress. She's carrying it off without more than the occasional discreet glance at where her hem has got to. She's been circulating among her erstwhile charges, but now makes her way to the servery and secures a glass of fruit juice from the bartender. Turning away, she acknowledges T'rev by raising her glass to him. "Weyrleader."
Enter B'kaiv and G'dri from the bowl, the pair pausing to give their jackets to whomever's providing coat-check service. For once the greenrider doesn't look like he got dressed in the dark, or out of someone else's castoffs, but he has a way to go before outshining anyone but himself. "There's S'lien," he mutters, nodding to the other greenrider like G'dri couldn't see the boy himself. "Gonna go get something t' drink. You want nothing?" Really, it's only manners that keeps him at the bluerider's side long enough to get an answer instead of dashing straight for the alcohol.
Rugged and slightly rough around the edges, Kai is one of those young men who looks perpetually scuffed. Well-tanned skin tells the tale of many days spent working under the rays of the sun, while dusty brown hair is chopped short enough to barely rumple when he runs his hand back over it. His nose is broad and slightly askew, his chin is square and stubborn under mutinous lips, and the tip of his left ear sports a notch, long healed. His face usually wears an impassive, unimpressed mask, though occasionally his eyes, a hazel predominated by brown, will light and the mask drop away. B'kaiv's shoulders are wide and broad, echoed by his arms and hands, both of which are thick and muscular. He stands a thumb's width over six feet with a growling muttered baritone of a voice and is probably about 21 turns.
Sober rather than flashy, his outfit nonetheless catches the eye - perhaps more a matter of who's wearing it than what he's wearing. Black boots tuck under dark grey trousers, close-fitting but not too tight. A black belt with pouches breaks up the smooth lines from toe to head, though perhaps only a Weaver would care. His shirt is several shades of grey from dove to slate, pieced rather than ombre, with the palest hues near his face and hands in a band collar and simple button cuffs. On his left shoulder he wears the knot of a Fort Weyr rider twined with green. His jacket, when he wears it, bears Obsidian's badge.
"Congratulations Jantha on another successful group," T'rev replies easily to the weyrlingmaster's greeting as his glass is returned to him with a fresh serving of red wine. "And you look lovely in that dress," he compliments further, holds out a hand to shake hers.
Amused but typically quietly so, G'dri just smiles his signature smile and gives a brief nod. "An ale, please," he replies, not in the least put out by Kai's antsiness to get at the booze. He'll follow at a sedate pace, less focused on getting to the drinks and more in pausing to deliver quiet greetings along the way.
B'kaiv says, "Ale, right," with a nod and a quick smile that's really more of a grimace. Abandoning G'dri to his own devices, the greenrider bulls through the crowd as politely as he can, ending up not far from both Weyrleader and Weyrlingmaster. He sends a, "Hey," over in their direction, a nod as well, but then the server'd like to know what he'll have. "Two ales and a whiskey." Once the -important- part is taken care of, then he can relax and offer the others, "Good party."
Jantha swaps her glass from one hand to the other, then shakes T'rev's hand. "Thank you. They've done well, despite everything." She gives a rueful smile. "This has certainly been an unusual class: I've never had a weyrling abducted by raiders before. However, the future's ahead of them now."
"In spite of everything," T'rev agrees with a renewed flash of his smile and a firming of his grip before his hand drops away. He steps aside as others come to get drinks. Kai's greeting earns a lifted glass. "Here's to Cirse's excellent taste in party planning," the Weyrleader notes jovially. "And to future classes of weryrlings /not/ having to deal with kdinappings."
G'dri finally ambles his way over, on the tail-end of that toast, maneuvering himself to end up nearish to Kai once more. A wide smile that crinkles his eyes accompanies the downward dip of his chin in a nod towards both Jantha and T'rev. "Weyrleader, Weyrlingmaster," he greets his bosses. Boss and former-? "A good day to you both."
Kai greets G'dri with another all-purpose, "Hey," just like he didn't leave the older man only a short while earlier. "Hope they don't got t' deal with no raiders," he opines with a tight smile just as the bartender arrives with his drinks. He promptly hands one ale to G'dri and upends the whiskey into the other, claiming that one for himself.
"B'kaiv. G'dri." Jantha smiles at the two, and the glass is raised again, for all it only has juice in it. "B'kaiv, that reminds me: I must thank you for your help with the self-defence. You did a good job." She gives G'dri a conspiratorial grin. "Do you think we should book him for the next class now?"
"G'dri," T'rev greets the bluerider with a nod as he approaches as well, then pauses to take a sip from his glass. "Sounds like that was a pretty good match up of skills," the Weyrleader says conversationally of Kai's assistance with this group. The four are clustered near the bar that's been setup, though standing out of the immediate flow of traffic for those fetching beverages. A quartet of harpers plays background music and the buffet has been set up with a vertiable smorgasbord of finger foods.
With only a glance for the dumping of whiskey into ale, G'dri accepts his unaltered beverage with a murmured word of thanks. With a heightened sparkle in his eyes, he laughs lightly and answers Jantha, "Were I to have a say in such a choice, I would think that yes, he would be well suited to continuing on in such capacity." Is he looking to get smacked? Which might possibly be why he follows that up with, "I dislike drinking on an empty stomach. Shall I put together a plate of things for us all?"
"Thanks, ma'am," B'kaiv tells Jantha with only a faint whitening of his knuckles on his mug. He does glance sidelong at G'dri's quip before offering (bravely?), "Could do that for next time maybe, sure. 'F you still want t' have me," thus leaving them both a gracious out. "Should go sit down? Only," to T'rev and Jantha, and he at least -sounds- regretful, "Guess you got t' be around for everyone t' say hey too, huh."
G'dri senses B'kaiv's eyes widen fractionally at the offer of food: G'dri wants to /leave/ him? Alone? With these two?
Jiella has the look of a woman making an appearance as she enters from the bowl; her steps are quick, her glance over the crowd is cursory, her gaze disinterested. The occasion doesn't warrant one of her gowns, but she still looks lovely in a soft, short, clinging cowl-neck sweater dress in a rosy pink, knee-high boots, and dangling pearl earrings. Once inside, there's only one of two choices, really - food or bar. And despite the fact that there's a few kind souls waving the blonde over to their spot in the buffet line, she eyes the bar, purses full lips, and moves in that direction.
"Thanks, G'dri," Jantha says, then spots a new arrival approaching and turns slightly to call a ringing greeting. "Jiella! Congratulations, brownrider! And every success in your new Wing." Which is pretty much what she's been saying to the rest of the ex-weyrlings that she's met, in fact.
"I've made the rounds, so I could take a little break," T'rev says with a ready smile for B'kaiv. "Just don't mind me if I need to shake hands and chat with proud parents every now and then," the Weyrleader adds jovially. He's in a good mood today it seems. Jiella's approach only serves to widen his smile and T'rev lifts his glass in her direction as she nears. "Congratulations, Jiella," he echoes Jantha. "You look lovely in pink," the compliment follows smoothly. "We were just sayin' that Kai's a good self-defence instructor, he taught you a thing or two didn't he?"
Why would G'dri need a gracious out? "You bring the valuable addition of true-life experience to your lessons, Kai. Some instructors I have seen in the past forget that real opponents won't follow rules or be mindful of safety. Would you mind holding this for me?" The ale, that is, as yet untasted. As Jantha and then T'rev call his attention to pretty-in-pink, he too has a smile and a, "Congratulations, Jiella. You are indeed, quite a vision." Like a master artist's painting, or a fine sculpture. "I was just heading over to grab some light snacks for us all... shall I add some for you?"
B'kaiv senses G'dri tilts his head, brows arching slightly as he notices the expression. the look in his own eyes warms, an attempt to convey without word or gesture: you'll be fine, I won't be gone long."
B'kaiv's certainly not going to fuss for his wingmate's arrival, but unlike T'rev he doesn't have a smooth greeting. 'Hey' is all-purpose, really, and it helps that he already has a beer so he doesn't have to gape, open-mouthed, at the brownrider but stare at the surface of his drink instead. Much safer. He grunts something that could be accepting for G'dri's request and compliment, but two mugs are as easy to hold as one, and then the greenrider nods at one of the rapidly-filling tables. "Could all go sit over there, if you want." A beat and he adds awkwardly, "How's Orisoth?"
Wincing a touch at the Weyrlingmaster's greeting, Jiella can nonetheless manage a polite smile for it, equally polite in response. "Thank you, Jantha." Now that she can call people by their name and it's a social occasion, what the hell. She's pretty in pink and standing by the bar set up in the cavern along with two-thirds of the weyrling staff, B'kaiv, and the Weyleader, who she's favouring with one of her more brilliant smiles for his congratulations. As for Kai and self-defense? Time to get a drink! Turning to find one, "Suppose so, though I'm not that good at it. I don't think it's my thing. And thank you, G'dri. I might grab a few things off the plate, but I don't know how long I'll be around, so use your judgement?" Kai's suggestion seems to get a response - hard to tell when she's talking to the bar - "Maybe. And he's pretty much how he usually is. Hope Chielyth's well." Brisk, civil.
M'try wouldn't be late to a party like this. And he sure wouldn't come hurrying into the room, brushing his hands through his hair busily like that will make it look anything other than windblown. There's a quick, smiled, "What was that? Ah, nowhere. How's the party?" to answer the question with which he's greeted a few steps in, exchanging good-to-see-you handshakes before trying to duck off and collect food. Which isn't progressing very quickly for him. Mostly because he's too polite to just cut someone off mid-sentence.
T'rev shoots Jiella another smile, warm in quality and nods in answer to Kai's query. "Right there? Sure, sounds good," and the Weyrleader's already moving, hand dropping to the back of a chair to draw it out for whichever of the ladies chooses to occupy it. M'try is spotted in his move towards the buffet and T'rev briefly lifts his glass in his wingrider's direction.
"Besides," continues Jantha with something of a smirk - she's still on the subject of B'kaiv's self-defence lessons, it seems. "The lads take it better when they're taught by someone who's young and male. Being put on the ground by a middle-aged woman isn't good for their self-esteem. Besides, I'd much rather they were taught by someone with more enthusiasm for the subject than I can usually muster." She glances across the room, and raises a hand in greeting when she sees M'try newly arrived.
G'dri, heading off towards the buffet, leaves the rest of the cluster at the drinks table to sort themselves out as far as where they're going to wind up sitting. Polite he may be, but he also moves with a purpose and doesn't pause long enough for anyone in-between to really get going with the chatting. Of course there's a line when he gets there, and he fits himself into it somewhat ahead of where he should rightly have ended up, just by dint of finally deciding to actually exchange more than a passing greeting.
There's a reason Kai teaches self-defense and not small talk, and this would be it: he's utter crap at small talk. "Yeah," he says, stilted, "She's good." But T'rev's making a break for it and Kai fair leaps upon the opportunity to do the same, claiming that, "All these people, should go get a couple plates. Hey, there's M'try." In case they haven't all seen him by now. Jantha and Jiella get thin, pained smiles, and then the greenrider hastily ghosts off to join G'dri, much to the chagrin of the person who's been bumped back not just once, but twice.
Glass of red wine held elegantly in one slim hand - that'd be the unbruised one - Jiella does eventually have turn around and consider her options. With a tilt of her head, she'll regard the table T'rev's chosen for a moment before shrugging and sauntering off in that direction. That is, after answering B'kaiv, still without looking at him, "Good." The greenrider tips her off about M'try, who she glances over at with brief, wary interest. How long do you have to be at a party to consider it an appearance anyway?
Hey, there's M'try, who eventually manages to detach himself from one of his clutchmates only by promising to come back and hear the end of that story before the party's over, but seriously starving right now, so catch up to him later? Great. To answer Jiella's brief glance, he smiles with obnoxious brightness-- she already hates him, so it's not like he has anything to lose-- on his way to claim that food. "Sir. Sir. Ma'am. Sir." That'd be T'rev. B'kaiv. Jantha. G'dri. As they're each passed or noticed or whatever.
"M'try." Another smile - Jantha seems to have one for everybody today. "Congratulations on escaping from weyrlinghood. How are you finding it?" She shoots a glance towards the queue where G'dri has gone to retrieve food before looking back at M'try. Maybe she's hungry: there's only a half-full glass in her hand at present.
Maybe one of G'dri's Smiles(tm) will help the one so cut-in-front-of feel better? No? Well, he tried, and apologetically too. As the line shuffles forward he waits for a natural break in the flow of the idle conversation he was having, before he clearly switches his attention to Kai. Tilting his head towards the greenrider, he says quietly, "Hey, relax? I'd say you look like you're about to face three much-larger men in a fight for all your marks, but I think you'd enjoy that somewhat more." They'll get to the food eventually, and the bluerider takes happy advantage of Kai's presence to claim two plates to fill instead of trying to balance a mountain of delectable tidbits onto just one. "M'try, there is no need for such formality," when one of those passing 'sirs' is realised to have been directed at him. "Congratulations on your new wing."
Wrinkling her nose for that obnoxious smile, Jiella just continues on her way over to T'rev at the table, who is relatively safe by her standards. Meaning, he won't be mean, and will tell her she's pretty. Eyeing the chair for a moment like she might be shackled to it if she takes it, she eventually sits, crosses her legs, scans the room with barely disguised impatience. May as well wait if someone's going to bring her food. Tilting a look up at the Weyrleader, "How's it going?"
Jiella earns herself another smile as she heads towards T'rev and that pulled out chair. Once she's sat down, he steps away to set his glass down and sits himself down too. "Pretty good, it's a nice party, most of the parents seem pleased enough though a few were askin' about whether or not it was /quite/ safe," the Weyrleader says with a little shake of his head. "You?"
Congratulations. "Thank you. Thank you." One for Jantha, one for G'dri, and M'try snags a plate with a glance along the buffet, taking his place at the back of the line. "It's a lot like being a weyrling, except that now I have a Wing badge and I get paid a bit more." He tilts his empty plate toward the luncheon and adds, "Plus, there appears to be a decent spread, so I can't exactly complain. You both must be enjoying a well-earned respite?"
B'kaiv swallows a snort at G'dri's comparison but can't keep a small smile from forming. "Yeah," he admits, gesturing around at the clumps of people, the conversation, the general party atmosphere. At least he hasn't started plucking at his shirt's neckline yet? That's always a sure sign of discomfort. There's a nod - but no hey, for a change - for M'try in passing, but does he invite the brownrider to cut in line too? Nope. Once their plates are full he turns to try and find the others, gives T'rev's table a nod. There it is. On the way past M'try again, he points it out to the younger man, inviting, "Got seats there, if you want." It's up to him now if he'll join.
Jantha laughs as she tells M'try, "Well, weyrlingmasters are a bit surplus to requirements, now that you've all joined wings. But, much as I'd /like/ to spend my time pottering in the herb garden, Imoth and I will need to find another way of making ourselves useful. We can't have the Weyrleader here thinking we don't earn our keep, after all!" That's said with a cheerful grin in T'rev's direction: she doesn't seem too worried at the prospect.
After a sip from her glass, Jiella is arching light brows at T'rev for 'safe', surprised. "Really? I hope..." She trails off, giving him a knowing look - he knows what she hopes. That no relatives are behind that particular concern. Glancing only briefly towards the group at the buffet, she just gives a diffident little shrug at the question and a bland, "Not bad." That's certainly not the whole of things, but she's not talking about it, and not talking about it here.
T'rev shakes his head slightly Jiella-wards in answer to her incomplete question. "I'm pretty sure at this point that we'll be able to pronounce things as safe as they were before soon enough." The Weyrleader's grin pulls to the side a little and he nods. "Better than bad-bad," he says quietly and under the table, his foot nudges towards hers companionably. "They're supposed to be playin' dance music in a little bit," a tilt of his glass towards the harpers. "Save me a dance?" he requests with a slight note of pleading married with cheer in his voice. "Here come Kai and G'dri with stuff to munch on."
G'dri follows the direction of Kai's nod, since he himself was scanning in rather the wrong direction. "And plenty more food," he tacks on to Kai's invitation towards M'try, lifting the plates he's holding as if further visual aid is required. Then it's back through the drifting mill of people to the table occupied by T'rev, Jantha and Jiella, to set those plates down with a humourous bow. "There we go. Should be plenty of choice here for everyone to find something they like." Once his hands are free he can use one to reclaim the mug of ale Kai's been kindly toting around, the other to snag a couple sandwich squares and some sort of batter-wrapped roll for himself. But instead of availing himself of the option of a chair, turns instead to peer again in the direction he was looking earlier. Aside to the greenrider, "I think I see C'rys over there. Want to see if we can get a game set up for later?"
M'try looks squarely at the blond amid the seats in question while he answers B'kaiv with a polite, "Thank you for the offer, sir." Which isn't to say he wants to join them, but that part might actually go without saying? He has a bit of time left to wait in line, anyway, teetering the edge of his plate against his chest to pass the time. "I somehow doubt, ma'am, that those are words we'd ever hear from our particular Weyrleader, but I'm sure your industry's appreciated."
Kai grunts a 'welcome' to M'try on his way back, relinquishes G'dri's ale, and picks up a couple of the sturdier-looking pastries as his price for fetching and carrying. "Food looks good," he essays in yet another attempt to try this 'conversation' thing, but the bluerider's suggestion is greeted with unconcealed relief. "/Yeah/. Regards t' Mecaith, sir, and Orisoth," to Jiella, naturally, and neither sir nor ma'am for her, before the greenrider cuts off through the crowd as quickly as he might, leaving G'dri to follow in his wake.
G'dri makes his own polite farewells, regards to dragons and all that, but then, he's got a greenrider to follow and a poker game to set up.