Gatecrashers and Tea
Who: Issa, Ginella, Bresis, Penny, E'sere, Sinopa, Roa
When: 20:39 on day 7, month 8, turn 1 of the 7th Pass
Where: Nenuith's Ledge
What: Diya hosts a soiree of young women on her ledge. There are gatecrashers and an attempted poiso-, oh right, allergic reaction.
Nenuith's Ledge(#84RJ)
While the inner weyr is cramped, the ledge is expansive and decorated with a small collection of chairs and tables that carry one or two platters of food each. The finger foods include everything from dainty cucumber sandwiches to petit fours and other pastries, as well as platters of fruits and cheeses. Near the low tunnel back to the weyr is a stand with a few pots of tea as well as a pitcher of wine-soaking fruit, a Pernese sangria. Besides the food, dainty decorations of small clusters of mountain flowers tied together with ribbon dot each table. The autumn sun hangs low over the western bowl, nearing sunset in the brilliance of the rose and yellow colors that decorate the sky.
The ledge is only accessible from the central Weyrleaders' offices that lead up to the private weyrs, or by sky.
There's a deliberate sense of peace instilled on Nenuith's ledge, the gold dragon nowhere to be seen to allow for more space in, at least from what the inner weyr indicates, already cramped quarters. Still, surprisingly expansive, the dragon's ledge has been decorated for the small soiree the weyrwoman's planned, the striking figure making her way from table to table, adjusting a plate -just so-, or moving a flower back. A complete hostess for the afternoon from the pleasantly warm expression on her features to the poise with which she moves to begin greeting the various guests: a young lady from Greenfield and a visiting Healer journeywoman.
Issa mounts the stairs from the office along with the other, mostly younger women, and enters through the weyr, forgoing an entrance adragonback, it seems. She silently enters behind a pair of giggling girls about 5 years her junior with awe in their eyes. Issa's mouth forms a subtle smirk as she moves away from those two and scans the tables for the hostess. Diya sighted, she moves in and around the tables to stand behind the goldrider, who's dutifully greeting her guests. Not a word, though... Issa will wait to be noticed, an amused tweak to her smile, hands clasped behind her back.
Some effort has been made with Penny's attire, a change from her usual practical grey or her too-casual tropical clothing; a russet skirt, and a blouse of cream, and her thick hair has been restrained in a pair of braids along the sides of her head, meeting in a twisted knot at the nape of her neck. She is only slightly hesitant as she enters, stepping through the door and standing somewhat awkwardly just inside, unsure of the level of formality of this meeting as she glances about for Diya.
Diya's awareness of Issa's proximity is betrayed to the well-known greenrider in little tells like the slight pull back of the shoulder closest to Oshisyth's rider and the slight tilt of her head, that to most may just be a gesture, but to those such as Issa or Miniyal, is an unspoken acknowledgement. Her brief smile for the daughter of Greenfield shifts to a nod of her head for the pair of girls, dismissal towards food and tea with a flippant little gesture before she turns, her bony hand attempting to find the back of Issa's arm in an effort to steer the greenrider towards a new arrival. Low words, with a glance over for the woman's appearance are shared, "I'm glad you came, dear, have you had a chance to meet any of the Caucus members yet?" Behind Penny, another girl, far less polite, pushes her way past towards one of the serving tables.
A queen sinks down from entirely above, distinctively branded with blue around one eye. Wing thrashes slow to capable beats once the Istan-bred dragon lands. Bresis sways in the saddle-like arrangement, not bothering to undo the straps that weren't done up to begin with. Mallorineth extends her right wing to lean that way for her bond's ease. Shoulder, limb and ground, the woman meets those in that order. Wind-rattled hair is coerced flatter and Bre boldly, but with deference, greets the hostess. A wrist turns palm up at the chic spread, fingers curling, "You indulge us, Lady."
Ah yes, appearance. Not much can be said about Issa's choice of outfit, other than it's not the usual wherhide riding gear that she's seen in most. A long, white, layered skirt is the most embellished thing on her, and her fingers fidget with it as she catches Diya's signal and waits patiently for the greeting to be done. Then, she lets herself be guided, Diya's hand placed on her wine red sleeve. "A few. Not nearly enough, I should say." And she scans those gathered quickly, nodding with a careless ease in Penny's direction. "Her, very briefly, when she first got here, I believe.
With her attention on Issa, it would seem that paying attention to all arrivals would be difficult for Diya, but Mallorineth's striking entrance is given a bemused little look, the trace slivers of recognition of the girl running through the dark blue eyes. "And your Istan looks as if she's adapted well to our climate, Bresis. Please, enjoy yourself, mingle, get to know each other outside of the regiment of the," a brief, quite flat pause, "Caucus, and call me Diya." Warmth envelops her rich alto, though another studied glance lingers on the dragon that remains on Nenuith's ledge in an understated hint. Still her smile remains fixed and with another gracious nod for the young Istan goldrider, she returns to murmur a soft comment to the greenrider, one distinctly audible despite its semblance of a whisper, "You play hostess as well, if not better than many ladies or weyrwomen. Would you assist me? Make sure no one's lacking and," after flashing the younger woman one of her extraordinarily brilliant smiles, she notes with a tiny gesture Bresis-ward, "Charm them with your chatter." As for her, the slight turn of her shoulder indicates an preliminary intention to converge on Penny and the hapless rude girl.
Ginella , too, chooses stairs over an airborne entrance, following a Weaver journeywoman into the weyr. She too has foregone the typical leathers for a slightly dressier look, a flowy green skirt with faint patterns and a white sweater of a lightweight material. She offers polite smiles to a few classmates as she heads onto the ledge, taking in the spread before angling subtly towards their hostess, though not approaching or greeting yet, as the other young women around Diya are for the most part unfamiliar to her.
Penny takes rather an ungraceful sidestep as the more impatient girl brushes past her, and caught off-balance she looks a little frazzled. Evidently noticing that nobody else is waiting for an embroidered invitation to enter, she continues on into the room. She still looks a little uncomfortable, but she manages to flash a smile in the direction of the multitude of unfamiliar faces, murmuring something polite as somebody else moves past her.
There's no music to accompany the gathering, but as more girls make it to the ledge, the soft thrum of muted, almost timid, conversation ensues from many of the clusters. A lot of it seems to be small talk about the decorations, food, and debates lingering from their last class. Obviously absent are some of the major hold representatives though, those in the know would be able to spot the daughters or nieces of several minor holds here and there. Among the other present are most goldriders, with the notable absences here and there, all crafters represented at the Caucus, as well as a smattering of Reaches folk, such as Issa, with known ties to the older of Reaches' two juniors.
Brilliant smile is met with a slight laugh before the greenrider's lips return to their casual smirk. "How did I know you'd say that? One would think I still worked for you," she comments, with a mock labored sigh. "Well," she brightens, "lucky for you, I brought my charm." She gives a pat to Diya's hand, an unspoken promise to speak later, and it already turning away to take her cue. She saunters, her skirt ruffling around her casual step, over toward the Istan gold. "Oh, don't give her too much credit," she jokes to Bresis, idly. "She loves this as much as we love being indulged, probably." A hand waves over the tables with the pristine flowers and precise trays. "Mallorineth looks stunning, today, my greetings to her." A sincere nod and smile and she continues, "Though I wouldn't want to keep her from getting the last rays of sun of the day. I know my Oshisyth would be dying to find a sunny space. Care to find some wine with me?"
Issa's laughter does much to ease Diya's nerves; those nerves that run rampant beneath her posed exterior, and while she watches to see what the greenrider will do, at least for a few heartbeats, self-satisfaction rises in the thin curve of her smile and she turns back to those arriving. The rude girl from Balan is sailed passed with a careful lift of the woman's chin, a deliberate snubbing that turns the girl's cheeks scarlet as her open mouth to introduce goes 'unnoticed'. With swiftly gliding steps, the older woman moves towards first Penny, out stretching a welcoming hand towards Benden's arriving goldrider. "Penny, you looked marvelous at the Fort engagement party," the tall woman comments in greeting, "And weyrwoman. Your clutch hatched well at Benden?"
Penny's dark complexion darkens ever-so-slightly more, obviously embarrassed at the fact that her dress at that celebration is still being remarked upon -- but the sweet smile she turns on Diya is pleased nonetheless, a certain amount of girlish pleasure apparent at the compliment. Clearing her throat briefly, she finally speaks, saying in a quiet, achingly polite voice, "Thank you, ma'am; I think the effect was somewhat spoiled when my father descended upon my so-called admirers looking about to knock some heads together." Her self-derision is mild, a teasing sort of comment. "This place is lovely," she adds, in a murmur, eyes scanning the carefully laid out place settings and decorations.
Ginella takes a steps back to avoid one of the pushier girls, smoothing her skirt self-conciously before looking up to direct a pleasant smile at Diya's greeting. "It did, weyrwoman, thank you," she replies politely, a brief nod of confirmation turning into one of agreement as Penny comments on the setting. "Very pretty. I do hope you didn't go to too much trouble to set all this up."
"Fathers," Diya imparts to the smith, as if having great and vast knowledge of the subject, "Are notoriously over protective of their pretty daughters. Luckily," her voice mimics the strident tone of a would-be father, "I was never too pretty to bother protecting." The self-deprecating tease is accompanied by a wry wink and two hands that seek Penny's shoulders in a very loose, half-hug. "And delegation," the older woman reflects, as her lanky frame pivots to take in Ginella, "Is something that makes life not quite as difficult as it might be otherwise. The two of you have met, yes?" Standing near the pair, it seems that in the glance over the slim woman spares the ledge, everything is in place more or less, and she clears her throat, the rich alto lifting, "I'd like to welcome you all to High Reaches, and would like to first apologize for how long it's taken me to organize this for your Caucus class. With events taking unexpected turns, it's more important now than ever that we forge the bonds the Caucus was intended for, as well as learn from each other. So please," a toothy smile is flashed to the various heads turned her way, "Eat, drink, mingle, and help each other back to your respective cots later when the drink has gone to your heads. There's nothing quite like bonding over a mutual hangover."
What party at High Reaches could ever occur without the presence of the youngest of the native juniors? Arriving late and by stairs rather than by air, Sinopa enters on the arm of E'sere. As usual, the young goldrider is well-dressed and her curly hair has been arranged into a tidy updo. In her free hand she carries a basket lined with broad tropical leaves and filled with an obviously non-native, tropical fruit considered by most, particularly those in the cold north, to be a delicacy (think starfruits!). Despite the crowded room, it is difficult to not notice a tall old woman amongst the group. Almost immediately the goldrider and bronzerider steer towards Diya. "Good afternoon, Diya," Sinopa greets in a pleasant tone accompanied by an equally warm smile. "Such a lovely event you've organized here. So sorry that I'm late. I got a mite held up just after class," she explains before offering up the basket to the older woman. "I'm told that you're partial to these, and with all of us working so hard, you could use a treat."
Sinopa's bronzerider escort has, even for his relatively minor role, dressed for the occasion in nicer clothes than usual; for a special treat, even his shaggy hair has been combed into near neatness. "Weyrwoman," E'sere offers a simple greeting to Diya, content to let Sinopa offer her gift and her apologies for their mutual tardiness.
Penny does not look convinced when Diya pronounces her lack of protectable prettiness, but she's not quite comfortable enough to contradict the weyrwoman; instead, her smile simply turns up a few notches at her friendly little hug. She turns toward Ginella and nods, lips quirking up in an apparently sincerely friendly smile. "We've met, of course, we have a number of classes together. But I think we don't have many friends in common." Make that next to none -- Penny's rarely seen in the company of any of the Caucus girls, for that matter. Her attention returns to Diya as the woman speaks to the room. Although she smiles dutifully at her remarks, she looks somewhat dubious -- overindulge in drink, in this company? Her eyes flicker over toward the entrance as the pair enters.
Issa winds her way to the wine table, pouring herself and Bresis some of the fruity wine and chatting with the Istan as they sip, slowly. Casual glances and witty banter are immediately impacted by a voice Issa knows quite well. Diplomatically and retaining her casual demeanor, Issa engages a young assistant headwoman from Telgar in the conversation, then quietly excuses herself, leaving the two to talk, rather than leaving Bresis alone. As soon as she separates herself, she sends a quizzical look over the rim of her glass at Diya, the pretense of drinking shielding the upraised eyebrow. She was invited?
Roa enters through the tunnel that leads from the office.
Roa has arrived.
Ziare, Diya's latest assistant in a long line of them makes her way through the crowd before Sinopa descends to offer Diya and then the two women with her a glass of the magenta sangria blend each. The blonde is discreet at least, and while pretty a very commonplace attractive. After her little speech, the older of Reaches' junior weyrwoman begins to speak casually to her companions, "Attractiveness isn't always based on physical looks, and sometimes you can convince people you look prettier than you are by sheer confi-," a pause lingers as Sinopa interrupts, "-dence. Sinopa, how, marvelous it is that you came." Beyond the young junior's shoulder, dark eyes find Issa in a look that's answer enough, but overtly there's no hugely distinctive break in the woman's hostess aura. The basket is ignored; maybe she didn't notice it. "Have you spoken with Penny or Benden's weyrwoman, Ginella before?"
Bresis explores the largely alien faces amongst the guests with tact enough to not rebuff Diya as a side-effect. "I'm afraid she'd find proper accommodations on Belior, but her resilience is heartening." The corners of her pale eyes crease with fun. "Thank you for the invitation, I'll be sure to fulfill my part of the bargain of being an admirable guest. If you'll excuse me, I'll get started." Allowing the elder goldrider to socialize with other patrons, it's Issa who she attaches to afterward. "Oh she's got to! I can't imagine someone handling flowers with a glare. You think so?" Trying to perceive Mallorineth where she lies, "I think she looks the same, but then again I'm around her too much. Familiarity breeds obliviousness I suppose. Thank you, Issa," stated adroitly while being seated, thanks to the name drop from her dragon.
"I wouldn't miss a chance to socialize and get to know the other students better for anything," Sinopa replies cheerily. The basket is still upraised in offering to Diya, who perhaps merely didn't hear the explanation of the gift since Sinopa did interrupt her conversation. The dark eyes of the younger goldrider glance over to Ginella and Penny, who are each offered a warm smile. "I've seen both of you before. I think we have a few classes together, or perhaps we just see each other in passing quite often?" Looking away from the two students she lifts the basket slightly, "I'll just place these over on one of those tables so you don't have to hold it the whole time." So thoughtful, yes.
Answer obtained, Issa nods subtly, then turns back to her conversation with Bresis, throwing one or two shielded glances at Sinopa and E'sere in the meanwhile. "Sorry, I had the hiccups," she explains, excusing her rather sudden departure with a wave of her hand. "The wine is delicious, but it can take its toll," she says with a smirk, sipping again and licking her lips in the most ladylike fashion possible. "Diya always knows how to get the best wines. I envy her." Light conversation gives way to a more overt stare the way of the younger junior and her escort.
E'sere, a mild, innocuous smile hovering about his lips as he studies Diya and her reaction to Sinopa's grand entrance, notes, "I won't stay and interrupt your tea, weyrwoman--I was only in the, ah, neighborhood, and Sinopa asked me if I'd be so kind as to walk her over to join you." Never mind Sinopa's weyr is just right next door. And despite his words, he lingers himself, glancing to the younger goldrider. While many men might seem awkward or out-of-place, barging in on a tea party of women, E'sere remains relaxed, perfectly at ease with his odds.
Running late, Roa walks into the weyr and then the crowded ledge utterly oblivious to any raised hackles or increased tension than may or may not have just pervaded the space. She is, instead, looking about for people she knows, or at least recognizes, among the gathering clusters of (mostly) women.
"Perhaps," Diya remarks in tight evenness, finally finding a diplomatic path to take with these intruders, "You could pass those out to each of the women here, Sinopa. I doubt I'll be able to finish them all on my own and it's such an expensive treat." Though her eyes find E'sere, they seem to look past this male party crasher, politely warm, but at the same time tepidly distant. "No, no," she falls just shy of true welcome, "If you're here, there's little need to ask you to leave, wingleader. I'm afraid our conversation might not interest you much, however." That she looks vaguely relieved at the basket being put out of her way would be visible to a rock on the beach, let alone people with eyes. "I'm sure the Istan weyrwoman could educate us of just how this tropical treat is grown?"
Bresis throws her long legs out under the table though the remainder of her tidy posture does not suffer from the same leisure stroke. "Does hopping on one foot work for you?" Concerning Issa's hiccups. Suffering from no or little amount of shyness, the Istan samples the wine with demure zest, eyes accessing the value of the goblet she's drinking from. "Rather like the vine fruit back home only with a fragaria kick I think. How do you think the men are here?" Drop-kicking chitchat for deeper things. Lost to the meeting's din are Sinopa's/E'sere's addition and Diya's entreaty of fruit.
Sinopa turns her head away from Diya as E'sere reclaims his arm and makes to depart, offering him that same warm smile she's been treating everyone to. "Thank you for accompanying me." The arm holding the basket drops to her side and she nods slightly at the elder weyrwoman's idea. "I'll just place them near the other treats, that way your guests can decide if they would like one with their tea." Before she makes to head over towards a table and place the offending fruit there she holds the basket up once more in offering, "Would you like one now before others help themselves? Or perhaps I could get a sandwich or some tea for you while I'm over there?"
E'sere doesn't bother protesting, only offers Diya a warmer smile and a nod as Sinopa insists on offering that fruit again. "If you insist, weyrwoman," he tells Diya lightly. "Thank you." And just like that, he makes himself at home, stepping away from Diya and Sinopa and skimming the gathered faces, meeting a few blatant stares with friendly smiles. Footsteps behind him, though, attract his first bit of real attention, as he half-turns to regard Roa. "Weyrwoman," he greets her. "Glad you could join us." As though he were host himself. "How are you this afternoon? Did you finish looking over those formation charts?"
"No thank you," Diya says with a pointed look at the fruit's shape before returning dark sapphires to Sinopa's face. "But the gesture was kind." Politely pointed, like daggers that aren't quite meant to maim much, she can't very well ignore the junior's appearance and yet the fact that she turns her shoulder slightly to include Penny says much of her desire to speak with Sinopa. "How often are your etiquette classes with the Lady Sian? After Jerion's departure, I've found it difficult to keep up with the Caucus class schedules."
Penny takes a drink as the tray passes by, though her eyes remain on the two goldriders, with no attempt to disguise her curiosity. She nods at Sinopa's inquiry about sharing classes with Ginella and herself, but she doesn't try to intrude on the conversation -- too fascinating. Her eyes light a little at the sight of the tropical fruit -- you can take the girl out of Boll, but you can't take the Boll out of the girl. Bresis' comment about the quality of local men earns her a look, not with open amusement or derision, but a look nonetheless.
A friendly smile from E'sere is returned by Issa, but it's noticeably dampened and she turns from it quickly, back to Bresis. "Hopping on one foot, hm? No, I can't say I've ever even heard of that. Mostly just wait for them to disappear on their own." She sits back, doing away with some of her own ladylike restrictions in the face of Bresis' relaxed demeanor. "Men?" Amused by the frankness, Issa offers a little laugh that drowns quickly in wine. "Well, I might be biased, seeing as this is home, but they're not... not all bad." The greenrider pointedly restricts herself from shooting another glance E'sere-wards, but the fact that his presence affects or restricts her words in some way should be apparent to those in her immediate viscinity,
Sinopa inclines her head slightly as Diya turns down her offer for fruit or other vittles. "You're welcome, and thank you again for organizing this event. I look forward to getting to know the others better than I have." A warm smile, complete with a hard look in her dark eyes to match Diya's expression, are directed at the elder weyrwoman. Turning to go and deposit the fruit for easy access, she catches a hint of Penny's expression, "Oh! Would either of you like to have a fruit now?" The basket is offered to Penny and Ginella this time.
Roa drifts over towards the Issa/Bresis direction though her attention moves on and off of the conversing weyrwomen. She's short, there's lots of taller folk here, so most of the careful smiles are missed as she makes her way. "Hello," she begins, stepping up to the riders. "Um. Have I missed anything?"
Penny raises an eyebrow at Diya, and then only barely manages to hide a grimace; her lips twitch slightly. "Ettiquette?" she repeats, shrugging one of her shoulders. "It's a valuable class, I think, something I would not necessarily have learned, growing up as I did around mostly male apprentices and relatives." As the basket is offered to her, her eyes flicker ever so slightly towards Diya -- she refused the fruit, after all. But she seems unable to resist, flashing Sinopa a smile of gratitude as she selects one of the fruits. "Thank you." On her best behavior, perhaps, but also addicted to fresh fruit.
"Etiquette," Diya repeats, with a slight nod, regaining some of that gracious composure, though her nose twitches faintly at the fruit in Penny's hand now. "It's amusing, sometimes, that if you think about it, learning all the nuances of etiquette seem to be in direct odds with your actual work environment. Valuable, no doubt, where you learn how to act formally and in informal occasions to best represent yourself and your area." A long brow rises towards the smithcrafter, though Sinopa is belatedly including in this conversation with a sidelong glance, "How does the master process work at the Smith Hall for an intelligent woman like yourself?"
"You're welcome," Sinopa returns easily to Penny, lingering a moment with her basket of fruit in case Ginella wishes to likewise procure herself one of the tropical treats. "If you'd like more, they'll be over there next to the sandwiches," she explains before excusing herself from Diya's presence with a neutral glance towards the elder weyrwoman. At the table she does indeed set the basket of tropical leaves and fruit down before she heads over towards a gaggle of girls to engage in idle mind-numbingly pointless conversation.
Penny's gaze is only vaguely apologetic as she lifts the fruit to take a bite, eyeing Diya evenly. No shame in taking fruit from the enemy, as long as it tastes good? In response to the weyrwoman's question, she lets out a distinctly unladylike sound, somewhere between a laugh and a snort. "It doesn't," she replies, with somewhat more bluntness than she's displayed as of yet. "As far as I've been able to find out, there's never been a female master at the Smith hall. It's not a craft that readily welcomes women into its ranks," she adds, lips twitching wryly. She finally takes a bite into the fruit, its juice spraying in several directions as the smith tries to staunch the flow down her chin.
Bresis gives a toss of her head to rearrange the creative bob of hair. It saves her from having to raise a hand otherwise employed by a wine glass. "Do you think he's attractive?" Tailing Issa's glance, E'sere, the man in the Amazon tribe, gains recognition. Her contralto is kept flat to preserve pureness of thought. "I know him a little. Really, I'm not a mankiller I just like knowing if I have to walk around with a fist ready, you know? There are men like that in Ista. Rule #9, always watch your back." The amber liquid in the decorative glass is tumbled as her hand moves in steady clockwise control. Its frangrant smell, rather than its taste, is sampled. "Hello, Roa. Please sit with us!" The Telgari doesn't always need height to attract Bresis' rapt attention.
Issa peers, taking pains to make her glances idle and unconcerned, around girls and centerpieces to see the group surrounding Diya. Catching sight of the fruit that Penny holds in her hand, a frown immediately surfaces that has to be carefully smoothed down into a more placid expression. "Oh, nothing much more than idle chatting about men, Roa," Issa greets, having schooled her face into a prettier smile and throwing off her concern as if just a moment of brief reflection or a wayward dragon-comment. "What do you think about the selection of handsome faces here at High Reaches? I think the bronzeriders are singularly spectacular, myself, yes," she answers Bresis. Significant glance toward E'sere, yet again, but this time it's in an effort to accept the bronzerider to conversation, a light tease to elicit a response.
Too nice, or at least polite, to comment on Sinopa even after she's left, the older weyrwoman seems hesitant not to keep an eye out for the pretty young woman. "I didn't think so, perhaps the Weyr or Caucus could assist you somehow in convincing your Masters otherwise? If they've trusted thus far to the Caucus-," her voice trails off as the spray of juice arcs to grace her face, the liquid seeming to instantly draw a series of red bumps to mar of Diya's face, her eyelids looking like they're starting to swell. And then silence, followed by a chagrinned look. "Vipers always bring the best gifts," she notes dryly, blunt even, and as the damage is done, a towel is not sought and she just fashions a rueful look for first Penny and those close by, "I'm afraid, I'll have to excuse myself. Penny?" The name is said quizzically, the request made lower of the young smith, "In a few moments, I'm sure I won't be able to see very well, would you escort me to the infirmary?"
E'sere, having been engaged in polite pleasantries with another young girl from the Caucus, glances around at the feel of those eyes sliding across him. Murmuring an 'excuse me' to his current conversation partner, he steps aside and offers Issa a grin. "Spectacular? I'm flattered on behalf of myself and the rest of my kind. How are you both?" Diya's announcement, however, earns the elder weyrwoman another glance, the rider's lips pursing briefly. He refrains any comment for the moment, however, and instead offers his present companions a rather forced smile.
Roa does in fact, pull forward and settle into a nearby seat and makes the pair a trio. "The boys? Well, you know, they seem nice enough." Fish? Out of water? Hoo boy. "I suppose that...ah..." but attention is drawn away at the mention a bit away of the infirmary and she turns around, cranning enough to catch a glimpse of Diya's sudden facial swelling.
When the red bumps first appear, Penny just looks a little confused, tilting her head slightly and looking at her own fingers as if expecting to see similar scoring by the juices. When she looks back up, her expression changes drastically to one of utter horror, catching on quickly. She quickly deposits her drink, only half empty, and takes a few steps to Diya's side, about to offer her a hand -- then, she looks the juice staining her fingers and grabs up a few napkins from the prettily-set table. "Of course," she manages, sounding rather miserable, her eyes a bit wild. Even if the fruit was brought by Sinopa -- somehow, poisoning the weyrwoman by spraying her with juice, does not make a very good impression.
Nothing to see, nothing wrong at all! Penny's hand is taken, the independent woman relying far too obviously on the younger woman's guidance as her eyelids turn fat. Despite the fact that her face is breaking out and swelling in all the wrong places, Diya still manages to nod towards those she passes as if there was nothing wrong, and as she passes by Issa, she murmurs, "The show must go on, yes? You'll do marvelously," before disappearing into her inner weyr and presumably beyond that the infirmary.
"She's allergic. I had forgotten," E'sere notes heavily, not looking back to Diya as she exits with Penny. Instead, not letting the weyrwoman's breakout dampen the mood overlong, he offers his companions a smile, glancing last to Roa. "Nice enough, weyrwoman? Is that all?" he teases her lightly.
Issa doesn't catch Diya's comments about the infirmary, but people craning there necks to look at the weyrwoman are plain enough to cause a hesitant, tense moment in Issa's frame, poised to rise to help. Diya's mutterings seem to decide against that course of action, however, and she stays seated, dispelling her tension and continuing to chat. Ignoring the occurence in conversation completely, she turns to E'sere instead. "Oh, don't be flattered. You're probably the exception." The jab is made with a lighthearted laugh and an easy smile. "Easy thing, to forget, I'm sure," she notes to E'sere next, slipping her expression behind her wineglass to drain the rest and hide whatever sourness there might be present. "Beautiful but deadly. Ah, I know the type well," Issa laments, a mocking hand going to her heart after setting down the empty wineglass. "I know the type well. Has anyone in particular caught your eye, Bresis? Or yours Roa?"
Bresis is still trying to determine the characteristics and composition of the goblet, fingernails tapping at the material to hear the resulting acoustics. "Nice enough. I'm trying to see about the no-so-pretty ones. They're usually more willing to spar more," a blanket of dry wit, "less beauty to sacrifice." Thinking of something to mix with the wine, glacier-colored eyes narrow to gauge the variety on a distant table. "We'd ask your opinion, but it seems you're of the type we're trying to assess." Gliding a comment to E'sere on sterling wings. "I hope she's okay..." Shadowing the departing Diya with her glance.
Roa watches Diya make her stoic departure with Penny in tow before she turns back to her companions and the newly approached E'sere. At his teasing comment cheeks flame, of course, and gaze positively sinks to her knees. "Ah...I only meant...uhm..." No. She's sunk. So she only closes her mouth and swallows adding feebly, "Thank you again for the wing patterns. I'm nearly ready to return them." Then she looks over to Bresis, whp was also addressed in Issa's question. Yes yes. Let's let the other goldreider talk for a bit. The to Issa, 'Do you know, has such a thing happened to her before? With the fruit? I mean, the halers know what to do?"
E'sere arches a brow at Bresis, gesturing to himself. "Assess away, in that case," he encourages her vainly, a laugh escaping as Roa fumbles her own words. "Take your time," he tells the Telgari representative, offering a smile. Issa receives only a nod, a more reserved smile, as the wingleader thinks better of responding to her, at least.
Smart man. Issa's attention turns to Roa, assuring her and Bresis, "She'll be taken care of, don't worry. It's been a while since she's had anything like this happen, but the healers know how to handle it." She adjusts her skirt and shifts into a more relaxed position, flipping a curl that is significantly more tame than usual away from her eyes.
Luckily her spar mention didn't draw attention enough to cause an explanation so Bresis is freed to graze two tables adjacent to their own. "I'm too modest." Feigning out of E'sere's permission to judge him artfully. "Oh my favoite," Bresis, otherwise known as the Cucumber Queen, is naturally biased and discriminatory when choosing something solid to eat. Inclined to stand for the moment in case the cause for sauce or other condiments are called for, she mentally checks on Mallorineth.
Roa nods towards Issa. "That's a relief at least. How could she..." but her mouth closes and she steals a glance towards E'sere and then, less discreetly than she'd like, towards Sinopa and the gaggle of girls she chitters with. "Please, if you'll all excuse me? Tialith is asking for my attention." Convenient beasts, those dragons. Yep.
"I should be on my way as well," E'sere notes as Roa starts to leave. "Good day, Issa, weyrwomen," are his own parting words, as he turns to slip out.
Roa heads down the short tunnel that leads to the office.
Roa has left.
E'sere heads down the short tunnel that leads to the office.
E'sere has left.
Issa peers over to Bresis, asking her, "Grab me a few?" while nodding as Roa and E'sere both take their leaves. "I can't believe I've been drinking wine on an empty stomach." As if summoned by her conversation, some kind older Caucus student comes by with refills from a pitcher. Glass filled again, Issa sinks into casual sipping again.
Bresis saves everyone the heartache; she monopolizes the entire spread of cucumer sandwiches and relocates it to their table: wood sliding against smooth wood. "I feel bad I didn't get to speak much with Diya." Eyes trail to the spot the queenrider once used in her passage to the Infirmary. "Bye," catoring to both Roa and E'sere as each goes their individual way. The typical free-spirit beseeches Issa. "I've got more people to nail down for conversation before I'm off myself. I'll be back. Some day." Expression sparks mirth, the tall young woman walking up to one of the crafters in attendance.
Bresis has left.
Issa snags a cucumber sandwich , and through her bite, nods Bresis away, calling after her, "Have a good evening, Bresis." She herself grabs a few more bites, then returns to mingling, wine getting her more and more tipsy as the hours pass.
Issa has left.
When: 20:39 on day 7, month 8, turn 1 of the 7th Pass
Where: Nenuith's Ledge
What: Diya hosts a soiree of young women on her ledge. There are gatecrashers and an attempted poiso-, oh right, allergic reaction.
Nenuith's Ledge(#84RJ)
While the inner weyr is cramped, the ledge is expansive and decorated with a small collection of chairs and tables that carry one or two platters of food each. The finger foods include everything from dainty cucumber sandwiches to petit fours and other pastries, as well as platters of fruits and cheeses. Near the low tunnel back to the weyr is a stand with a few pots of tea as well as a pitcher of wine-soaking fruit, a Pernese sangria. Besides the food, dainty decorations of small clusters of mountain flowers tied together with ribbon dot each table. The autumn sun hangs low over the western bowl, nearing sunset in the brilliance of the rose and yellow colors that decorate the sky.
The ledge is only accessible from the central Weyrleaders' offices that lead up to the private weyrs, or by sky.
There's a deliberate sense of peace instilled on Nenuith's ledge, the gold dragon nowhere to be seen to allow for more space in, at least from what the inner weyr indicates, already cramped quarters. Still, surprisingly expansive, the dragon's ledge has been decorated for the small soiree the weyrwoman's planned, the striking figure making her way from table to table, adjusting a plate -just so-, or moving a flower back. A complete hostess for the afternoon from the pleasantly warm expression on her features to the poise with which she moves to begin greeting the various guests: a young lady from Greenfield and a visiting Healer journeywoman.
Issa mounts the stairs from the office along with the other, mostly younger women, and enters through the weyr, forgoing an entrance adragonback, it seems. She silently enters behind a pair of giggling girls about 5 years her junior with awe in their eyes. Issa's mouth forms a subtle smirk as she moves away from those two and scans the tables for the hostess. Diya sighted, she moves in and around the tables to stand behind the goldrider, who's dutifully greeting her guests. Not a word, though... Issa will wait to be noticed, an amused tweak to her smile, hands clasped behind her back.
Some effort has been made with Penny's attire, a change from her usual practical grey or her too-casual tropical clothing; a russet skirt, and a blouse of cream, and her thick hair has been restrained in a pair of braids along the sides of her head, meeting in a twisted knot at the nape of her neck. She is only slightly hesitant as she enters, stepping through the door and standing somewhat awkwardly just inside, unsure of the level of formality of this meeting as she glances about for Diya.
Diya's awareness of Issa's proximity is betrayed to the well-known greenrider in little tells like the slight pull back of the shoulder closest to Oshisyth's rider and the slight tilt of her head, that to most may just be a gesture, but to those such as Issa or Miniyal, is an unspoken acknowledgement. Her brief smile for the daughter of Greenfield shifts to a nod of her head for the pair of girls, dismissal towards food and tea with a flippant little gesture before she turns, her bony hand attempting to find the back of Issa's arm in an effort to steer the greenrider towards a new arrival. Low words, with a glance over for the woman's appearance are shared, "I'm glad you came, dear, have you had a chance to meet any of the Caucus members yet?" Behind Penny, another girl, far less polite, pushes her way past towards one of the serving tables.
A queen sinks down from entirely above, distinctively branded with blue around one eye. Wing thrashes slow to capable beats once the Istan-bred dragon lands. Bresis sways in the saddle-like arrangement, not bothering to undo the straps that weren't done up to begin with. Mallorineth extends her right wing to lean that way for her bond's ease. Shoulder, limb and ground, the woman meets those in that order. Wind-rattled hair is coerced flatter and Bre boldly, but with deference, greets the hostess. A wrist turns palm up at the chic spread, fingers curling, "You indulge us, Lady."
Ah yes, appearance. Not much can be said about Issa's choice of outfit, other than it's not the usual wherhide riding gear that she's seen in most. A long, white, layered skirt is the most embellished thing on her, and her fingers fidget with it as she catches Diya's signal and waits patiently for the greeting to be done. Then, she lets herself be guided, Diya's hand placed on her wine red sleeve. "A few. Not nearly enough, I should say." And she scans those gathered quickly, nodding with a careless ease in Penny's direction. "Her, very briefly, when she first got here, I believe.
With her attention on Issa, it would seem that paying attention to all arrivals would be difficult for Diya, but Mallorineth's striking entrance is given a bemused little look, the trace slivers of recognition of the girl running through the dark blue eyes. "And your Istan looks as if she's adapted well to our climate, Bresis. Please, enjoy yourself, mingle, get to know each other outside of the regiment of the," a brief, quite flat pause, "Caucus, and call me Diya." Warmth envelops her rich alto, though another studied glance lingers on the dragon that remains on Nenuith's ledge in an understated hint. Still her smile remains fixed and with another gracious nod for the young Istan goldrider, she returns to murmur a soft comment to the greenrider, one distinctly audible despite its semblance of a whisper, "You play hostess as well, if not better than many ladies or weyrwomen. Would you assist me? Make sure no one's lacking and," after flashing the younger woman one of her extraordinarily brilliant smiles, she notes with a tiny gesture Bresis-ward, "Charm them with your chatter." As for her, the slight turn of her shoulder indicates an preliminary intention to converge on Penny and the hapless rude girl.
Ginella , too, chooses stairs over an airborne entrance, following a Weaver journeywoman into the weyr. She too has foregone the typical leathers for a slightly dressier look, a flowy green skirt with faint patterns and a white sweater of a lightweight material. She offers polite smiles to a few classmates as she heads onto the ledge, taking in the spread before angling subtly towards their hostess, though not approaching or greeting yet, as the other young women around Diya are for the most part unfamiliar to her.
Penny takes rather an ungraceful sidestep as the more impatient girl brushes past her, and caught off-balance she looks a little frazzled. Evidently noticing that nobody else is waiting for an embroidered invitation to enter, she continues on into the room. She still looks a little uncomfortable, but she manages to flash a smile in the direction of the multitude of unfamiliar faces, murmuring something polite as somebody else moves past her.
There's no music to accompany the gathering, but as more girls make it to the ledge, the soft thrum of muted, almost timid, conversation ensues from many of the clusters. A lot of it seems to be small talk about the decorations, food, and debates lingering from their last class. Obviously absent are some of the major hold representatives though, those in the know would be able to spot the daughters or nieces of several minor holds here and there. Among the other present are most goldriders, with the notable absences here and there, all crafters represented at the Caucus, as well as a smattering of Reaches folk, such as Issa, with known ties to the older of Reaches' two juniors.
Brilliant smile is met with a slight laugh before the greenrider's lips return to their casual smirk. "How did I know you'd say that? One would think I still worked for you," she comments, with a mock labored sigh. "Well," she brightens, "lucky for you, I brought my charm." She gives a pat to Diya's hand, an unspoken promise to speak later, and it already turning away to take her cue. She saunters, her skirt ruffling around her casual step, over toward the Istan gold. "Oh, don't give her too much credit," she jokes to Bresis, idly. "She loves this as much as we love being indulged, probably." A hand waves over the tables with the pristine flowers and precise trays. "Mallorineth looks stunning, today, my greetings to her." A sincere nod and smile and she continues, "Though I wouldn't want to keep her from getting the last rays of sun of the day. I know my Oshisyth would be dying to find a sunny space. Care to find some wine with me?"
Issa's laughter does much to ease Diya's nerves; those nerves that run rampant beneath her posed exterior, and while she watches to see what the greenrider will do, at least for a few heartbeats, self-satisfaction rises in the thin curve of her smile and she turns back to those arriving. The rude girl from Balan is sailed passed with a careful lift of the woman's chin, a deliberate snubbing that turns the girl's cheeks scarlet as her open mouth to introduce goes 'unnoticed'. With swiftly gliding steps, the older woman moves towards first Penny, out stretching a welcoming hand towards Benden's arriving goldrider. "Penny, you looked marvelous at the Fort engagement party," the tall woman comments in greeting, "And weyrwoman. Your clutch hatched well at Benden?"
Penny's dark complexion darkens ever-so-slightly more, obviously embarrassed at the fact that her dress at that celebration is still being remarked upon -- but the sweet smile she turns on Diya is pleased nonetheless, a certain amount of girlish pleasure apparent at the compliment. Clearing her throat briefly, she finally speaks, saying in a quiet, achingly polite voice, "Thank you, ma'am; I think the effect was somewhat spoiled when my father descended upon my so-called admirers looking about to knock some heads together." Her self-derision is mild, a teasing sort of comment. "This place is lovely," she adds, in a murmur, eyes scanning the carefully laid out place settings and decorations.
Ginella takes a steps back to avoid one of the pushier girls, smoothing her skirt self-conciously before looking up to direct a pleasant smile at Diya's greeting. "It did, weyrwoman, thank you," she replies politely, a brief nod of confirmation turning into one of agreement as Penny comments on the setting. "Very pretty. I do hope you didn't go to too much trouble to set all this up."
"Fathers," Diya imparts to the smith, as if having great and vast knowledge of the subject, "Are notoriously over protective of their pretty daughters. Luckily," her voice mimics the strident tone of a would-be father, "I was never too pretty to bother protecting." The self-deprecating tease is accompanied by a wry wink and two hands that seek Penny's shoulders in a very loose, half-hug. "And delegation," the older woman reflects, as her lanky frame pivots to take in Ginella, "Is something that makes life not quite as difficult as it might be otherwise. The two of you have met, yes?" Standing near the pair, it seems that in the glance over the slim woman spares the ledge, everything is in place more or less, and she clears her throat, the rich alto lifting, "I'd like to welcome you all to High Reaches, and would like to first apologize for how long it's taken me to organize this for your Caucus class. With events taking unexpected turns, it's more important now than ever that we forge the bonds the Caucus was intended for, as well as learn from each other. So please," a toothy smile is flashed to the various heads turned her way, "Eat, drink, mingle, and help each other back to your respective cots later when the drink has gone to your heads. There's nothing quite like bonding over a mutual hangover."
What party at High Reaches could ever occur without the presence of the youngest of the native juniors? Arriving late and by stairs rather than by air, Sinopa enters on the arm of E'sere. As usual, the young goldrider is well-dressed and her curly hair has been arranged into a tidy updo. In her free hand she carries a basket lined with broad tropical leaves and filled with an obviously non-native, tropical fruit considered by most, particularly those in the cold north, to be a delicacy (think starfruits!). Despite the crowded room, it is difficult to not notice a tall old woman amongst the group. Almost immediately the goldrider and bronzerider steer towards Diya. "Good afternoon, Diya," Sinopa greets in a pleasant tone accompanied by an equally warm smile. "Such a lovely event you've organized here. So sorry that I'm late. I got a mite held up just after class," she explains before offering up the basket to the older woman. "I'm told that you're partial to these, and with all of us working so hard, you could use a treat."
Sinopa's bronzerider escort has, even for his relatively minor role, dressed for the occasion in nicer clothes than usual; for a special treat, even his shaggy hair has been combed into near neatness. "Weyrwoman," E'sere offers a simple greeting to Diya, content to let Sinopa offer her gift and her apologies for their mutual tardiness.
Penny does not look convinced when Diya pronounces her lack of protectable prettiness, but she's not quite comfortable enough to contradict the weyrwoman; instead, her smile simply turns up a few notches at her friendly little hug. She turns toward Ginella and nods, lips quirking up in an apparently sincerely friendly smile. "We've met, of course, we have a number of classes together. But I think we don't have many friends in common." Make that next to none -- Penny's rarely seen in the company of any of the Caucus girls, for that matter. Her attention returns to Diya as the woman speaks to the room. Although she smiles dutifully at her remarks, she looks somewhat dubious -- overindulge in drink, in this company? Her eyes flicker over toward the entrance as the pair enters.
Issa winds her way to the wine table, pouring herself and Bresis some of the fruity wine and chatting with the Istan as they sip, slowly. Casual glances and witty banter are immediately impacted by a voice Issa knows quite well. Diplomatically and retaining her casual demeanor, Issa engages a young assistant headwoman from Telgar in the conversation, then quietly excuses herself, leaving the two to talk, rather than leaving Bresis alone. As soon as she separates herself, she sends a quizzical look over the rim of her glass at Diya, the pretense of drinking shielding the upraised eyebrow. She was invited?
Roa enters through the tunnel that leads from the office.
Roa has arrived.
Ziare, Diya's latest assistant in a long line of them makes her way through the crowd before Sinopa descends to offer Diya and then the two women with her a glass of the magenta sangria blend each. The blonde is discreet at least, and while pretty a very commonplace attractive. After her little speech, the older of Reaches' junior weyrwoman begins to speak casually to her companions, "Attractiveness isn't always based on physical looks, and sometimes you can convince people you look prettier than you are by sheer confi-," a pause lingers as Sinopa interrupts, "-dence. Sinopa, how, marvelous it is that you came." Beyond the young junior's shoulder, dark eyes find Issa in a look that's answer enough, but overtly there's no hugely distinctive break in the woman's hostess aura. The basket is ignored; maybe she didn't notice it. "Have you spoken with Penny or Benden's weyrwoman, Ginella before?"
Bresis explores the largely alien faces amongst the guests with tact enough to not rebuff Diya as a side-effect. "I'm afraid she'd find proper accommodations on Belior, but her resilience is heartening." The corners of her pale eyes crease with fun. "Thank you for the invitation, I'll be sure to fulfill my part of the bargain of being an admirable guest. If you'll excuse me, I'll get started." Allowing the elder goldrider to socialize with other patrons, it's Issa who she attaches to afterward. "Oh she's got to! I can't imagine someone handling flowers with a glare. You think so?" Trying to perceive Mallorineth where she lies, "I think she looks the same, but then again I'm around her too much. Familiarity breeds obliviousness I suppose. Thank you, Issa," stated adroitly while being seated, thanks to the name drop from her dragon.
"I wouldn't miss a chance to socialize and get to know the other students better for anything," Sinopa replies cheerily. The basket is still upraised in offering to Diya, who perhaps merely didn't hear the explanation of the gift since Sinopa did interrupt her conversation. The dark eyes of the younger goldrider glance over to Ginella and Penny, who are each offered a warm smile. "I've seen both of you before. I think we have a few classes together, or perhaps we just see each other in passing quite often?" Looking away from the two students she lifts the basket slightly, "I'll just place these over on one of those tables so you don't have to hold it the whole time." So thoughtful, yes.
Answer obtained, Issa nods subtly, then turns back to her conversation with Bresis, throwing one or two shielded glances at Sinopa and E'sere in the meanwhile. "Sorry, I had the hiccups," she explains, excusing her rather sudden departure with a wave of her hand. "The wine is delicious, but it can take its toll," she says with a smirk, sipping again and licking her lips in the most ladylike fashion possible. "Diya always knows how to get the best wines. I envy her." Light conversation gives way to a more overt stare the way of the younger junior and her escort.
E'sere, a mild, innocuous smile hovering about his lips as he studies Diya and her reaction to Sinopa's grand entrance, notes, "I won't stay and interrupt your tea, weyrwoman--I was only in the, ah, neighborhood, and Sinopa asked me if I'd be so kind as to walk her over to join you." Never mind Sinopa's weyr is just right next door. And despite his words, he lingers himself, glancing to the younger goldrider. While many men might seem awkward or out-of-place, barging in on a tea party of women, E'sere remains relaxed, perfectly at ease with his odds.
Running late, Roa walks into the weyr and then the crowded ledge utterly oblivious to any raised hackles or increased tension than may or may not have just pervaded the space. She is, instead, looking about for people she knows, or at least recognizes, among the gathering clusters of (mostly) women.
"Perhaps," Diya remarks in tight evenness, finally finding a diplomatic path to take with these intruders, "You could pass those out to each of the women here, Sinopa. I doubt I'll be able to finish them all on my own and it's such an expensive treat." Though her eyes find E'sere, they seem to look past this male party crasher, politely warm, but at the same time tepidly distant. "No, no," she falls just shy of true welcome, "If you're here, there's little need to ask you to leave, wingleader. I'm afraid our conversation might not interest you much, however." That she looks vaguely relieved at the basket being put out of her way would be visible to a rock on the beach, let alone people with eyes. "I'm sure the Istan weyrwoman could educate us of just how this tropical treat is grown?"
Bresis throws her long legs out under the table though the remainder of her tidy posture does not suffer from the same leisure stroke. "Does hopping on one foot work for you?" Concerning Issa's hiccups. Suffering from no or little amount of shyness, the Istan samples the wine with demure zest, eyes accessing the value of the goblet she's drinking from. "Rather like the vine fruit back home only with a fragaria kick I think. How do you think the men are here?" Drop-kicking chitchat for deeper things. Lost to the meeting's din are Sinopa's/E'sere's addition and Diya's entreaty of fruit.
Sinopa turns her head away from Diya as E'sere reclaims his arm and makes to depart, offering him that same warm smile she's been treating everyone to. "Thank you for accompanying me." The arm holding the basket drops to her side and she nods slightly at the elder weyrwoman's idea. "I'll just place them near the other treats, that way your guests can decide if they would like one with their tea." Before she makes to head over towards a table and place the offending fruit there she holds the basket up once more in offering, "Would you like one now before others help themselves? Or perhaps I could get a sandwich or some tea for you while I'm over there?"
E'sere doesn't bother protesting, only offers Diya a warmer smile and a nod as Sinopa insists on offering that fruit again. "If you insist, weyrwoman," he tells Diya lightly. "Thank you." And just like that, he makes himself at home, stepping away from Diya and Sinopa and skimming the gathered faces, meeting a few blatant stares with friendly smiles. Footsteps behind him, though, attract his first bit of real attention, as he half-turns to regard Roa. "Weyrwoman," he greets her. "Glad you could join us." As though he were host himself. "How are you this afternoon? Did you finish looking over those formation charts?"
"No thank you," Diya says with a pointed look at the fruit's shape before returning dark sapphires to Sinopa's face. "But the gesture was kind." Politely pointed, like daggers that aren't quite meant to maim much, she can't very well ignore the junior's appearance and yet the fact that she turns her shoulder slightly to include Penny says much of her desire to speak with Sinopa. "How often are your etiquette classes with the Lady Sian? After Jerion's departure, I've found it difficult to keep up with the Caucus class schedules."
Penny takes a drink as the tray passes by, though her eyes remain on the two goldriders, with no attempt to disguise her curiosity. She nods at Sinopa's inquiry about sharing classes with Ginella and herself, but she doesn't try to intrude on the conversation -- too fascinating. Her eyes light a little at the sight of the tropical fruit -- you can take the girl out of Boll, but you can't take the Boll out of the girl. Bresis' comment about the quality of local men earns her a look, not with open amusement or derision, but a look nonetheless.
A friendly smile from E'sere is returned by Issa, but it's noticeably dampened and she turns from it quickly, back to Bresis. "Hopping on one foot, hm? No, I can't say I've ever even heard of that. Mostly just wait for them to disappear on their own." She sits back, doing away with some of her own ladylike restrictions in the face of Bresis' relaxed demeanor. "Men?" Amused by the frankness, Issa offers a little laugh that drowns quickly in wine. "Well, I might be biased, seeing as this is home, but they're not... not all bad." The greenrider pointedly restricts herself from shooting another glance E'sere-wards, but the fact that his presence affects or restricts her words in some way should be apparent to those in her immediate viscinity,
Sinopa inclines her head slightly as Diya turns down her offer for fruit or other vittles. "You're welcome, and thank you again for organizing this event. I look forward to getting to know the others better than I have." A warm smile, complete with a hard look in her dark eyes to match Diya's expression, are directed at the elder weyrwoman. Turning to go and deposit the fruit for easy access, she catches a hint of Penny's expression, "Oh! Would either of you like to have a fruit now?" The basket is offered to Penny and Ginella this time.
Roa drifts over towards the Issa/Bresis direction though her attention moves on and off of the conversing weyrwomen. She's short, there's lots of taller folk here, so most of the careful smiles are missed as she makes her way. "Hello," she begins, stepping up to the riders. "Um. Have I missed anything?"
Penny raises an eyebrow at Diya, and then only barely manages to hide a grimace; her lips twitch slightly. "Ettiquette?" she repeats, shrugging one of her shoulders. "It's a valuable class, I think, something I would not necessarily have learned, growing up as I did around mostly male apprentices and relatives." As the basket is offered to her, her eyes flicker ever so slightly towards Diya -- she refused the fruit, after all. But she seems unable to resist, flashing Sinopa a smile of gratitude as she selects one of the fruits. "Thank you." On her best behavior, perhaps, but also addicted to fresh fruit.
"Etiquette," Diya repeats, with a slight nod, regaining some of that gracious composure, though her nose twitches faintly at the fruit in Penny's hand now. "It's amusing, sometimes, that if you think about it, learning all the nuances of etiquette seem to be in direct odds with your actual work environment. Valuable, no doubt, where you learn how to act formally and in informal occasions to best represent yourself and your area." A long brow rises towards the smithcrafter, though Sinopa is belatedly including in this conversation with a sidelong glance, "How does the master process work at the Smith Hall for an intelligent woman like yourself?"
"You're welcome," Sinopa returns easily to Penny, lingering a moment with her basket of fruit in case Ginella wishes to likewise procure herself one of the tropical treats. "If you'd like more, they'll be over there next to the sandwiches," she explains before excusing herself from Diya's presence with a neutral glance towards the elder weyrwoman. At the table she does indeed set the basket of tropical leaves and fruit down before she heads over towards a gaggle of girls to engage in idle mind-numbingly pointless conversation.
Penny's gaze is only vaguely apologetic as she lifts the fruit to take a bite, eyeing Diya evenly. No shame in taking fruit from the enemy, as long as it tastes good? In response to the weyrwoman's question, she lets out a distinctly unladylike sound, somewhere between a laugh and a snort. "It doesn't," she replies, with somewhat more bluntness than she's displayed as of yet. "As far as I've been able to find out, there's never been a female master at the Smith hall. It's not a craft that readily welcomes women into its ranks," she adds, lips twitching wryly. She finally takes a bite into the fruit, its juice spraying in several directions as the smith tries to staunch the flow down her chin.
Bresis gives a toss of her head to rearrange the creative bob of hair. It saves her from having to raise a hand otherwise employed by a wine glass. "Do you think he's attractive?" Tailing Issa's glance, E'sere, the man in the Amazon tribe, gains recognition. Her contralto is kept flat to preserve pureness of thought. "I know him a little. Really, I'm not a mankiller I just like knowing if I have to walk around with a fist ready, you know? There are men like that in Ista. Rule #9, always watch your back." The amber liquid in the decorative glass is tumbled as her hand moves in steady clockwise control. Its frangrant smell, rather than its taste, is sampled. "Hello, Roa. Please sit with us!" The Telgari doesn't always need height to attract Bresis' rapt attention.
Issa peers, taking pains to make her glances idle and unconcerned, around girls and centerpieces to see the group surrounding Diya. Catching sight of the fruit that Penny holds in her hand, a frown immediately surfaces that has to be carefully smoothed down into a more placid expression. "Oh, nothing much more than idle chatting about men, Roa," Issa greets, having schooled her face into a prettier smile and throwing off her concern as if just a moment of brief reflection or a wayward dragon-comment. "What do you think about the selection of handsome faces here at High Reaches? I think the bronzeriders are singularly spectacular, myself, yes," she answers Bresis. Significant glance toward E'sere, yet again, but this time it's in an effort to accept the bronzerider to conversation, a light tease to elicit a response.
Too nice, or at least polite, to comment on Sinopa even after she's left, the older weyrwoman seems hesitant not to keep an eye out for the pretty young woman. "I didn't think so, perhaps the Weyr or Caucus could assist you somehow in convincing your Masters otherwise? If they've trusted thus far to the Caucus-," her voice trails off as the spray of juice arcs to grace her face, the liquid seeming to instantly draw a series of red bumps to mar of Diya's face, her eyelids looking like they're starting to swell. And then silence, followed by a chagrinned look. "Vipers always bring the best gifts," she notes dryly, blunt even, and as the damage is done, a towel is not sought and she just fashions a rueful look for first Penny and those close by, "I'm afraid, I'll have to excuse myself. Penny?" The name is said quizzically, the request made lower of the young smith, "In a few moments, I'm sure I won't be able to see very well, would you escort me to the infirmary?"
E'sere, having been engaged in polite pleasantries with another young girl from the Caucus, glances around at the feel of those eyes sliding across him. Murmuring an 'excuse me' to his current conversation partner, he steps aside and offers Issa a grin. "Spectacular? I'm flattered on behalf of myself and the rest of my kind. How are you both?" Diya's announcement, however, earns the elder weyrwoman another glance, the rider's lips pursing briefly. He refrains any comment for the moment, however, and instead offers his present companions a rather forced smile.
Roa does in fact, pull forward and settle into a nearby seat and makes the pair a trio. "The boys? Well, you know, they seem nice enough." Fish? Out of water? Hoo boy. "I suppose that...ah..." but attention is drawn away at the mention a bit away of the infirmary and she turns around, cranning enough to catch a glimpse of Diya's sudden facial swelling.
When the red bumps first appear, Penny just looks a little confused, tilting her head slightly and looking at her own fingers as if expecting to see similar scoring by the juices. When she looks back up, her expression changes drastically to one of utter horror, catching on quickly. She quickly deposits her drink, only half empty, and takes a few steps to Diya's side, about to offer her a hand -- then, she looks the juice staining her fingers and grabs up a few napkins from the prettily-set table. "Of course," she manages, sounding rather miserable, her eyes a bit wild. Even if the fruit was brought by Sinopa -- somehow, poisoning the weyrwoman by spraying her with juice, does not make a very good impression.
Nothing to see, nothing wrong at all! Penny's hand is taken, the independent woman relying far too obviously on the younger woman's guidance as her eyelids turn fat. Despite the fact that her face is breaking out and swelling in all the wrong places, Diya still manages to nod towards those she passes as if there was nothing wrong, and as she passes by Issa, she murmurs, "The show must go on, yes? You'll do marvelously," before disappearing into her inner weyr and presumably beyond that the infirmary.
"She's allergic. I had forgotten," E'sere notes heavily, not looking back to Diya as she exits with Penny. Instead, not letting the weyrwoman's breakout dampen the mood overlong, he offers his companions a smile, glancing last to Roa. "Nice enough, weyrwoman? Is that all?" he teases her lightly.
Issa doesn't catch Diya's comments about the infirmary, but people craning there necks to look at the weyrwoman are plain enough to cause a hesitant, tense moment in Issa's frame, poised to rise to help. Diya's mutterings seem to decide against that course of action, however, and she stays seated, dispelling her tension and continuing to chat. Ignoring the occurence in conversation completely, she turns to E'sere instead. "Oh, don't be flattered. You're probably the exception." The jab is made with a lighthearted laugh and an easy smile. "Easy thing, to forget, I'm sure," she notes to E'sere next, slipping her expression behind her wineglass to drain the rest and hide whatever sourness there might be present. "Beautiful but deadly. Ah, I know the type well," Issa laments, a mocking hand going to her heart after setting down the empty wineglass. "I know the type well. Has anyone in particular caught your eye, Bresis? Or yours Roa?"
Bresis is still trying to determine the characteristics and composition of the goblet, fingernails tapping at the material to hear the resulting acoustics. "Nice enough. I'm trying to see about the no-so-pretty ones. They're usually more willing to spar more," a blanket of dry wit, "less beauty to sacrifice." Thinking of something to mix with the wine, glacier-colored eyes narrow to gauge the variety on a distant table. "We'd ask your opinion, but it seems you're of the type we're trying to assess." Gliding a comment to E'sere on sterling wings. "I hope she's okay..." Shadowing the departing Diya with her glance.
Roa watches Diya make her stoic departure with Penny in tow before she turns back to her companions and the newly approached E'sere. At his teasing comment cheeks flame, of course, and gaze positively sinks to her knees. "Ah...I only meant...uhm..." No. She's sunk. So she only closes her mouth and swallows adding feebly, "Thank you again for the wing patterns. I'm nearly ready to return them." Then she looks over to Bresis, whp was also addressed in Issa's question. Yes yes. Let's let the other goldreider talk for a bit. The to Issa, 'Do you know, has such a thing happened to her before? With the fruit? I mean, the halers know what to do?"
E'sere arches a brow at Bresis, gesturing to himself. "Assess away, in that case," he encourages her vainly, a laugh escaping as Roa fumbles her own words. "Take your time," he tells the Telgari representative, offering a smile. Issa receives only a nod, a more reserved smile, as the wingleader thinks better of responding to her, at least.
Smart man. Issa's attention turns to Roa, assuring her and Bresis, "She'll be taken care of, don't worry. It's been a while since she's had anything like this happen, but the healers know how to handle it." She adjusts her skirt and shifts into a more relaxed position, flipping a curl that is significantly more tame than usual away from her eyes.
Luckily her spar mention didn't draw attention enough to cause an explanation so Bresis is freed to graze two tables adjacent to their own. "I'm too modest." Feigning out of E'sere's permission to judge him artfully. "Oh my favoite," Bresis, otherwise known as the Cucumber Queen, is naturally biased and discriminatory when choosing something solid to eat. Inclined to stand for the moment in case the cause for sauce or other condiments are called for, she mentally checks on Mallorineth.
Roa nods towards Issa. "That's a relief at least. How could she..." but her mouth closes and she steals a glance towards E'sere and then, less discreetly than she'd like, towards Sinopa and the gaggle of girls she chitters with. "Please, if you'll all excuse me? Tialith is asking for my attention." Convenient beasts, those dragons. Yep.
"I should be on my way as well," E'sere notes as Roa starts to leave. "Good day, Issa, weyrwomen," are his own parting words, as he turns to slip out.
Roa heads down the short tunnel that leads to the office.
Roa has left.
E'sere heads down the short tunnel that leads to the office.
E'sere has left.
Issa peers over to Bresis, asking her, "Grab me a few?" while nodding as Roa and E'sere both take their leaves. "I can't believe I've been drinking wine on an empty stomach." As if summoned by her conversation, some kind older Caucus student comes by with refills from a pitcher. Glass filled again, Issa sinks into casual sipping again.
Bresis saves everyone the heartache; she monopolizes the entire spread of cucumer sandwiches and relocates it to their table: wood sliding against smooth wood. "I feel bad I didn't get to speak much with Diya." Eyes trail to the spot the queenrider once used in her passage to the Infirmary. "Bye," catoring to both Roa and E'sere as each goes their individual way. The typical free-spirit beseeches Issa. "I've got more people to nail down for conversation before I'm off myself. I'll be back. Some day." Expression sparks mirth, the tall young woman walking up to one of the crafters in attendance.
Bresis has left.
Issa snags a cucumber sandwich , and through her bite, nods Bresis away, calling after her, "Have a good evening, Bresis." She herself grabs a few more bites, then returns to mingling, wine getting her more and more tipsy as the hours pass.
Issa has left.