Turn's End: Part 3
Location: Living Cavern
Time: Turnover between Turn 1 and 2
Players: Everyone!
Scene: Things take a turn for the strange.
Tavaly turns to Kierom for the moment, and that wicked grin of hers suddenly flourishes. "I did promise you a dance. Will you take it up now, or save it for later, Kiekie?" Nicknames. Don't let the other guards hear that one.
It's the terrible duo that enter the party late. Br'ce enters with T'ral, the two of them already bickering good naturedly, dressed up in their party finest. "I'm sorry, but I swear that shirt wasn't wrinkled when I laid it out this afternoon. I refuse to wear a wrinkled shirt to an event like this, it's simply sloppy." Br'ce protests, plucking at the fine (wrinkle-free) fabric of his shirt.
Aida laughs, shaking her head and waving Kierom in that direction. "Not at all," she assures him, lifting her glass to punctuate her statement. "I think I will somehow manage to survive on my own." There's a wink given, another smile flashed towards Tava and Dara, and then she's turning to ghost in the direction of the food.
"Ahh. The lurker in the records room." Aspen has the sudden 'aha!' of enlightenment as G'
Essdara eyes Tavaly warily. "I will do my best, Tava, though I can't promise how effective I will be. And I definately am saving you a dance, when you are ready for it. Seems I'm without a partner now anyway." A sigh.
The little Telgari nods once to Kelar. "Thank you. If I stay to look, you must of course head off. I shall expect an appropriate farewell in your next letter." She turns to go and then stops, because look who has just arrived. "Ohhhhh shells," is muttered under the girl's breath. And instead of moving towards the two newly arrived Weyrleaders, she instead makes her way towards the kitchens.
Ginella smiles a bit at Carina, warming to the woman by the moment. "Indeed," she replies dryly about Reyce before nodding: "I am enjoying myself so far, I suppose. Meeting people one doesn't know is always interesting. Oh, they put you in the barracks? I'm surprised," she admits, "It's not really... up to your standards, I would think. What was your impression?"
Kierom chcuckles slightly at the greenriders and blushes slightly. He looks between Essdara and Tav, and his smile broadens. "Well, as soon as they start the next song, I'm game. And having the two ladies I promised dances to here, is good."
E'sere's eyes fall on the doorway as soon as S'lien enters, drawn inexorably to his cousin. Frowning but a moment, he's quick to turn back to Issa at his side, continuing his conversation with the greenrider. "I'm not sure I'd believe that," he remarks, purposefully lightly to the woman. He favors her with a crooked grin, not oblivious to that look she now directs at him. "We've all our problems, some just less dire than others."
Tavaly beams immediately. "We're not waiting for the next song. C'mon!" She gives Dara's shoulders a quick hug in thanks then loops her arm with Kierom and leans over to whisper into his ear.
Sharp emerald eyes make note of Roa's retreat, S'lien's perfect lips curling with a touch of dark amusement as he watches the junior gold like a dragon watching lunch. Though he notes the retreat, he murmurs polite farewells to his Weyrwoman, dropping her off with another group of dress-chatting women, before making his way to make his greetings where Lexine is holding court, the pair seeming to settle down for a moment of conversation.
K'sar gives Essdara a teasing smile, nodding to those near her. "Tavaly." then to Dara. "Might I have this dance, dear lady? You look most lovely toni..." and his voice stops in mid-phrase as he catches a glimpse of S'lien and he mutters something definitely /not/ polite and then slaps a smile on his face. "Please..?"
Most likely, Samien recognizes the bracing for what it is. But he is gracious about it and welcomes the daughter of Keroon's hands into his, welcomes her movements to fall into time with his, and as if it were as natural as breathing, commences leading her into the dancing. "But I had no idea your dance was already interrupted," he jovially protests, eyes seeking out hers to hold her gaze - should she look away, he watches her; when she looks back, his attention is still there, a slow, sweet trap to draw her in again. "Certainly I did better to err on the side of excess manners? I would hate to seem a clod in front of your friend, Aelan. - May I call you Aelan?"
Penny spares some attention for Ginella's companion, looking curiously at Carina for a few moments as if waiting for an introduction. But then there's a tug on her wine glass. "What-- what are you doing?" Penny reaches after her glass as Jensen pulls it away, dumbfounded. "Have you lost your mind?"
Blinking at discovery, Miniyal sits up straighter. Posture back on command. She even rises from her chair and drops a clumsy curtsey to the weyrleader. "G'thon," she says politely, a small smile there and then gone. "I, umm. No. I don't think so. Lord Aspen? A pleasure to meet you." Really, a pleasure. Her tone is even and polite so it's something anyway.
Tavaly grins at the guard and nods her head, gesturing toward the door. "C'mon! Haven't got much time before we start!" With that, the greenriding weyrling and Kierom disappear out the door to the bowl..
"You shouldn't be drinkin' in your condition," Jensen replies calmly, now holding two glasses of wine. When Penny reaches for hers he pulls it out of her reach. A-nope. And what might her condition /be/? "You're sick. Worst thing for a headcold is alcohol." Or something like that.
Essdara blinks after Tavaly's abrupt exit, then shrugs and turns back to K'sar. "Sorry about that. As I was saying... Where have you been? I never see you any more. A girl could get to thinking you didn't like her, or think she was pretty enough anymore." She grins teasingly.
You sense K'sar murmurs "Stay here. I'll be right back. Promise."
Kierom nods and giddles slightly, following Tavaly outside. Always an adventure!
"It's my name," Aelan answers Samien, the words missing the manners filter by a mile, though at least they seem more honest than sarcastic. When she looks back to him to find him still watching her, she flushes, clearing her throat and looking down. "What I /meant/ to say was, of course you can call me Aelan." And then she looks up again, and he's /still/ looking. Though her steps are confident and graceful enough, her expression grows uncertain as she reaches up to brush her bangs out of her eyes. "Do I have something on my face? I looked before I came, but I had to walk across the bowl..."
Reyce frowns at both of them - he's standing right here, y'know? - but he takes his beating in silence. Carina just gives an expressive grimace. "Oh, forgive me, but I'm not /that/ willing to experience the Caucus. I spent last night in my own bed, thank you - I changed my clothes here and that's /it/." Her throaty laugh returns. "But if you want my brief impression of it, I'd say it was nice enough. I would have liked to look at those rugs hung on the wall, but there was no time." She glances at Reyce with a bright smile that pays no mind to his frowning. "Reyce lacks all appreciation for being fashionably late."
K'sar turns away from Essdara for a moment, murmuring to her, then glances around the room and with a jaunty grin, starts towards Jensen. "Jensen! Think we might be celebrating a new member of the Weyr this eve? I could use your help, sir, in preparing a fitting tribute..."
"Ahh. The lurker in the records room." Aspen has the sudden 'aha!' of enlightenment as G'thon introduces Miniyal. "I've heard rumors about you. Finally put a face to that name." Eyes narrow slightly in consideration before he turns back to the weyrleader. "And please, I'm hardly a Lord. My grandfather doesn't even like me. Lord Aspen takes too much time to say. Though it does have a pleasant ring to it..." A moment's thoughtful navel-gazing ensues. "Maybe I should insist that people call me Lord Aspen. Lord Aspen. Loooorrrdd Asssssssp. Pen." He experiments with the title, drawing out the syllables comically and breaking them up.
Fully tuned, the new quartet strikes up a face-paced ditty, the singer stomping his foot and clapping his hands as he tells the humorous tail of a stubborn little runner that wouldn't run.
Roa departs for the kitchen. (To follow Roa, click here.)
T'ral snorts inelegantly, surveying the room for a moment with a thoughtful glance. "They must be doing beer here, for those who didn't grow up with access to their own cellar." It's a dig at his friend, accompanied by an elbow to the ribs. "Something to drink, and then we find her, and /you/ explain exactly what held us up. There ought to be plenty of girls around to understand."
Kelar has an empty glass and a bottle of something guaranteed to burn his throat. Refusing to catch the headmaster's eye, the man falls into conversation with a pair of local girls, liberally topping up their drinks from K'sar's bottle. Whatever story he's telling them, it involves riotous laughter and a great deal of gesturing.
There's something about sending people fleeing and bracing themselves that just seems to make S'lien even more charming, as sweet and sharp as a blade in the dark. Those sharp eyes miss little, and a chaste kiss is placed on Lexine's cheek before he rises to approach G'thon. The former Weyrwoman watches her nephew with a gaze that matches his own, while S'lien glides through the crowds like a hot knife through butter, smoothing his passage with smiles and charm-soaked greetings.
Samien laughs a twinkling, delighted laugh. "Thank you, Aelan. Please, call me Samien." As the music changes, the Lord completes their dance with a graceful, easy slow and stop of steps. He frees a hand from beneath Aelan's to lift a finger to her cheek and draw it down to her chin, eyes following its movement - then he laughs again, light and airy, and says, "Of course not. But if you will allow me to put something there - " He steps inward, as easily as if it were a dance step set to this new, fast-paced music, and bends to press a swift kiss to the Lord's daughter's cheek. Just as quickly he steps back, already releasing her other hand. "Thank you for the dance, Aelan."
Essdara looks after K'sar with a frown; abandoned, again. A shrug, and she moves towards Aida, giving her a smile. "Managing to keep occupied, Aida? It's... Very intense out there, isn't it?"
Condition? Penny pales a little in confusion, even underneath her dark complexion and the touches of cosmetics on her eyes and cheeks and lips. She glances at Ginella, and finding her still lost in conversation with Carina, is forced to turn back to Jensen. "I should think the worst thing for a headcold would be, oh, cold?" After a moment, she glances towards the exit to the wintery bowl. Then she looks back, her smile rather grim. "I don't imagine one glass of wine will make all that much difference, in the long run."
Food. Aida gives the offerings a few moments inspection, then snags for herself something small that does not require a plate. She waits until she's slid back away from the tables and out of the way of people to set to nibbling on it, back to watching people. Oh, and then there's Essdara. She puts on another smile, lifting her chin just a bit. "I am," she comments agreeably. "And...I don't know that 'intense' is the word I would use. It's interesting at least. Are you enjoying yourself?"
Jensen is distracted. By K'sar. "A fitting tribute?" When the man nears and drops his voice, Jen ducks his head to better hear over the music and everything. His eyebrows furrow and a Look takes over his features. He glances at Penny, and thrusts both wine glasses into her hands. "Take these, don't drink from either of 'em, and... stay here." The 'please' doesn't need to be voiced, it's in his eyes, for her. /Please/. And without another word he starts gather his men via subtle waving and gesturing, gathered around the cavern as they are.
"Smart of you," Issa retorts quickly at E'sere's disbelief with a sly smile slipping behind her wine glass yet again. For each flirty glance the greenrider spares for E'sere, she spares an evaluating one for Sinopa, to see if the small points have found their target. "And what are your completely non-dire troubles, E'sere? Enlighten me. Handsome bronzerider, wingleader, with a goldrider on his arm..." Words are punctuated with a small touch, fingers gently grazing E'sere's elbow. "Seems like it's all sun and sky from here." She's getting less and less subtle with her body language. Must be the wine affecting her, though she still hasn't finished the glass he got for her.
Something is clearly not computing for Aelan after Samien's flirting, the Keroon lady just blinking at the Reaches Lord before remembering to breathe in and respond. The wry, uncertain smile that curves is almost genuine, considering the lord with tilted chin before a low chuckle follows. "Yes," she finally says, stepping back to manage a presentable curtsey. "Thank you for the dance, Samien. I...I hope you enjoy your evening," she concludes with genuine, if confused, warmth before starting to back away, the near-grace ruined neatly by bumping right into a passing bluerider.
Br'ce rolls his eyes in exasperation, exasperation which is quickly cut short by an elbow to the ribs "Ow." The complaint has the sound of both genuine pain and long habit, to boot. "I thought we'd just smile, nod, and say that we were held up by forces beyond our control, and leave it at that." he mutters, glancing around the room. A deep breath and he draws himself up to his best posture, plastering a polite smile on his face. "Time to do our social duty, I suppose. Oh, look, there's Ginella." He heads through the crowd, dispensing nods and greetings freely.
G'thon can't help a laugh - an unrehearsed one - at Aspen's experimentation. "There's a certain presumption upon the close family of Blood, Aspen. Probably best if you learn to enjoy the sound now. - Ah, Weyrleader." S'lien's approach is impossible to miss - impossible, anyway, for a man so attuned to knives in the dark as G'thon might be. The Reachian weyrleader reaches out hands for the Telgari one, hands that could as easily clasp shoulders as clasp a single outstretched hand. With some people, you always hedge your bets. "Welcome at last. How have the festivities been at Telgar tonight?"
Essdara glances out at the dance floor, and then back at Aida. "Oh, I would say I am, yes. Had a lovely half-dance, but alas, she was stolen away y someone more befitting her station. Tavaly is... Well, we'll see what she's doing, I guess. I forget, did I get you to promise me a dance tonight? If not, then consider the request made... Though not just now."
Ginella ignores Reyce entirely, but for when Carina indicates him. "I should hope they didn't," she agrees, "I'm glad you didn't find them completely appalling, at least, during your brief view. Reyce's punctuality earns a shrug, "I'm afraid I wasn't very late, myself. Now certain /others/ I cannot say the same for..." Eyes begin to trail around the room again, but Penny and Jensen distract her. She watches them for a moment, but misses Penny's glance, and so leaves them be. K'sar's appearance draws things to a head, and she smiles politely at Carina, "If you'll excuse me, Lady Carina? I believe I need another glass of wine."
K'sar murmurs to Jensen again and reaches for one of Penny's glasses of wine, nodding to her with a polite smile. "Might I? A lady should never have both hands full when there is dance music playing."
Ack. More people? No, no, no. This is not good. Miniyal sits back down, hands folded in her lap and trying to act like she's perfectly comfortable. Which she's not. Fidget. Tug at shawl. Tug at gown. Kick at floor with one slipper.
Aida laughs lightly, shaking her head. "You did not," she points out lightly. "I believe I very pointedly noted that I was making no promises -- and I'm not." The little bit of something being nibbled on is finished off, washed down with a drink of wine, and then she's loosely wrapping her free arm in around her midsection. "I'm enjoying myself watching. There's a great deal to see." Beat. "All the pretty dresses and things are just phenomenal, aren't they?"
S'lien's grip to G'thon's forearm is nothing if not testing, his smile just a little too smooth. "Busy as usual, old man," he greets, injecting the name with a warmth that barely makes it respectable. "But not too busy. We're expecting Thread tomorrow, so no late nights for some of the wings. Just came in to check in on the transplants, make sure they weren't causing you too much trouble." The smile he extends to Miniyal after the statement is blindingly white, gauged to perfection - at least for unterrified records keepers, that is.
"As do I, Aelan. Perhaps I'll see you again tonight," replies Samien as the young woman from Keroon starts to back away. The Lord High Reaches turns then, at just the right moment to miss seeing the little bumping-into-bluerider moment - such timing can hardly be coincidental - and slides off through the crowd toward the passageway that leads to the upper caverns and the craft hall beyond.
"Forces beyond our control." T'ral echoes Br'ce with a faint frown. "Do you think that's what girls've meant all these turns, when they've been saying they..." With the air of a man realising something long-true, the brownrider suddenly laughs. "Social duty it is. And beer, let's keep that in mind, too." The bulky brownrider mightn't quite have Master Derien's knack of forging through a crowd (no pun intended), but he does manage to find a path, shooting Ginella a grin over a sea of heads as he makes for the drinks.
Aspen shrugs at G'thon. "I could get used to it. People have an extraordinary talent for becoming accustomed to anything. Including salted fish." he adds, as an afterthought. Brows draw in curiously as he gazes at Miniyal, adding his own rather uncompromisingly intent stare to S'lien's smile.
Essdara grins a bit, "I admit, I've not been looking all that much. But the ones I noticed are all gorgeous. I do feel decidedly underdressed for the night." Then, with a glance out, she gives a sigh, and points towards the bowl dramatically. In a loud voice full of surprise, she says, "Hey, what's that in the bowl!?"
As if to supplement the announcement made my Essdara, there comes a chorus of two draconic voices raised in mirth, trilling and rising, falling and warbling. And following the echoes of that short duet come two loud *BANGS* from somewhere out in the open space of the Northern Bowl. Those closest to the exit will see two fantastic flashes of light - mid-air explosions that glitter in the high moon light, sending a multitude of sparks and puffs of curling smoke into the air.
Three men arrive at Jensen's left, and he murmurs something under his breath at them. They leave the cavern. Five remain, still at their various stations throughout the party. Jen nods once at K'sar, hands at his sides. Just nevermind the clenching of his jaw; he's cool.
Samien is gone by the time Aelan is finishing stumbling over wry-smiled apologies to the bluerider, the girl brushing herself off and letting out a long-held breath before her gaze returns to the crowd, searching. All that composure dissolves again, though, as she jumps towards the source of the bang, blinking wide-eyed at the entrance.
Sinopa's glowering continues unabated in the wake of E'sere's extended conversation with Issa, though the Reaches goldrider is quite content to let another young Lord fawn on her in turn. The wingleader is not unaware of those looks, that attempted vengeance, though he keeps his eyes focused on Issa. "I believe that goldrider on my arm qualifies as one of them at this point," he remarks wryly to the greenrider. "I'll have profuse apologies at the ready later this evening to explain my protracted quest for a glass of wine. But--" briefly, his hazel eyes flicker past Issa to the two Weyrleaders now meeting "--I think I've taken enough of your time, at least. I should go schmooze, I think." It's said heavily, almost as if he doesn't enjoy that task. Though, he's quick to add, "Unless you'd care to accompany me?" His brows arch, and chivalrously, he offers an arm toward the woman.
"It's such an opportunity..." Aida starts, only to trail off and blink a bit, her attention jerking to the bowl. She takes a few steps closer to the nearest table so that she can set her glass down, but does not react further than that, instead shifting her eyes to sweep around and over those still within the cavern.
Suddenly finding herself not only with her own glass but with Jensen's as well, Penny blinks. "Wha--" She stops, seeing that Look and somehow instantly subsiding. She watches him leave, eyes widened a little. K'sar's polite request is almost unnoticed, until she blinks and looks at him. "What? Oh. Sure." She hands him one of the glasses, Jensen's, and looks down at her own with some confusion. That is, until the bangs. Already having picked up on the tension in the guards, she actually lets out a startled cry of surprise or maybe even fear, covering her mouth immediately in embarrassment, but still looking outside with alarm.
Carina is all graciousness, turning her hand over in a permissive little gesture. "Of course, Weyrwoman." The title slips easily off her tongue, as though she'd known Ginella by it all her life. "I'm delighted -" BANG! Carina draws herself up abruptly, her lips pressed tight as she scans the entrance for any hint of an explanation. Reyce, unconsciously echoing his sister's posture, takes a step forward, towards the door, and stops. His eyes narrow with wariness, but there's clearly no understanding of what happened on his part, either.
G'thon has lived almost a turn now on sweets and wine and little else; he has grace to spare but hardly a chance of wrenching free from S'lien's casual grasp without seeming - well - unseemly. So the Reachian Weyrleader laughs again and just -glows- his lopsided smile at the Weyrleader born to the Blood he once served. "There has never been a Telgari yet who's caused me trouble, S'l - " G'thon's pause and glance toward the exit betrays that the sudden 'entertainment' must be unexpected.
Ashwin arrives through the long tunnel that comes from the lower caverns.
Again, dragon-song litters the airspace in the bowl, followed by two more bangs, this time with a few breaths of time between them. In the available light, the bodies of two dragons can be seen swooping and diving within the bowl's vacant air. Momentary spurts of flame proceed them just before the air erupts with colorful sparks and shimmering trails. The drunken holler of everyone's favorite bluerider just might be heard after one such bang..
Essdara, her job done, lowers her arm with crimson cheeks. "Well, that as interesting." She mutters to herself. She sighs, and moves to get a drink for herself, apparently forgetting her friend for the moment. Unlike most, she gets a nice cold fruit juice to sip at, eschewing the wine. She looks out over the crowd of people, and spots the flustered looking Aelan. With a quick decision, she procures a wine glass and moves over to her, offering it out. "Look like you could use this, Aelan." She says softly, just loud enough to be heard. "Was his dancing that phenomenal?" She teases.
Miniyal leans back against her chair to try to place that much more distance between herself and the people looking at her. How dare someone look at her? Alas, it doesn't seem to work. She nods stiffly and almost smiles. That's all. Thankfully there is a distraction. Now, if they all just look the other way she can slip out.
And as loud noises sound, two from Boll and one from Fort make their exit. Kelar surrenders his bottle to his two new friends, and Bailie's faint protests at missing the fun can be heard briefly -- and then they are gone. Another party in another place. Politics require it.
Sefton and Bailie depart
"Some festivities you've got here, old man," S'lien chuckles, maintaining his grip as he looks over towards the bowl. It's another long moment before he releases the Weyrleader's forearm, exchanging it for a brief clap on the shoulder. "Miss this place sometimes. It'll always feel like home." His sidelong glance and broad smile are simply seraphic, though such innocence can only hide other thoughts.
K'sar reaches out a hand to Penny. "Easy. It's just a show outside." He turns to Jensen and nods once. Firmly. "Now" is mouthed to him and he turns and heads for the Stores.
Ginella detaches herself from all around her and meanders slowly towards the drink table, that not having been her real object. T'ral, as soon as his head is spotted, becomes her object, as the goldrider's face lights up. She still gives him a hard swat on the arm when they meet, though. "What /took/ you so long? I've been waiting and waiting. Thank Faranth for Penny! You'd better have something to say for you--" She's cut off by the bang, which clearly startles the goldrider, and she reaches a hand to T'ral's arm once again. "What was that?"
Issa smiles, amused at E'sere's answer. "I think I'd better let you get back to your troubles, wingleader," is her reply to his offer, a polite dip of her head all that's offered as a way of thanks. She walks his way for a bit, though, passing close by him and laying her free hand at his elbow once again, pausing to lean in as she says, "But thank you for the conversation. It was... quite pleasant." Surprising sincerity is there, though hidden behind the attempt to charm the jealousy out of Sinopa. "Enjoy the rest of the party."
Jensen, having been watching K'sar closely, sees that silent signal and nods. He's on his way to the kitchen and fast. Passing Ashwin on the way he jerks his chin once. C'mon, Lieutenant.
"Thanks," Aelan breathes, taking the glass of wine and swallowing a good half of it at once before managing a wan smile back towards Dara. "Not the dancing so much. More the...not looking away. And the not looking down." She gives herself a little shake, taking another drink as she mumbles, "Came in trying to avoid all the bachelors and end up dancing with the biggest sharding one."
Ashwin was, wait for it, making progress with a girl. A historic occasion, so abruptly cut short by that jerk of Jensen's chin. She's abandoned mid-sentence as the guard falls into step behind Jensen wordlessly.
Jensen, K'sar, and Ashwin depart to the kitchens. (To follow Jensen, K'sar, and Ashwin, click here.)
Aida relaxes again once she realizes what it is that's going on, and reaches to take back up her wineglass. She starts to turn back towards Essdara again, only to find the other girl walking away. There's a moment given over to a narrow-eyed look sent towards Dara's back, and then she's putting back on her smile. She sips again from her wine, again moving to start wandering through the various people and going back to watching.
Penny looks over at K'sar as he reaches out that comforting hand. She smiles at him, looking wryly embarrassed. "Of course," she replies, looking on as he and Jensen leave. Left on her own, Penny just watches the guards exit to the kitchen. She glances around at the other partygoers, as if wondering why no one else is picking up on the guards' mass exodus; blatantly frightened, it takes her a moment of clutching her wine glass and standing there to calm herself, looking for the first time utterly uncomfortable in the festive gathering.
The next round of loud cracks is *much* closer to the weyr. Close enough that the lights glimmer within the doorway and a few glittering strands of cloth manage to dust the path leading from the living cavern. The night air is filled with various colors, all inconsistant and vibrant. Purples, reds, greens, blues, yellows, brilliant whites. And of course, the loud, echoing honks of two dragons animated and excited. *BANG!* *BANG!*
E'sere's smile is tight as he observes the commotion outside. "I believe," he remarks, "that's one of mine. We'll have words in the morning." For now, though, he favors Issa with another smile, nodding. "And thank you," is his equally low reply. "I enjoyed it myself. Good night, Issa--I look forward to a repeat sometime in the future." Then, purposefully, he strides off, toward G'thon and S'lien. The pair is greeted with an easy smile as he slides himself into the doings. "Weyrleader." This to G'thon; for S'lien, he has a simple, "S'lien. I hope I'm not interrupting? How fares Telgar?" He glances between the pair, brows arching slightly.
T'ral knows the answer to that one. "Circumstances beyond our control, right, Br'ce?" He turns his head to his friend, shooting the other man a broad grin. "Good practice for you, making conversation with all..." He's cut off as she reaches for his arm, head snapping around at the sound of the bang. "Something..." More bangs, and another interruption. "I have no idea."
"Not the girls you always went after. Wrinkled shirts weren't usually a concern for them." Br'ce responds dryly to T'ral. "Ah, alcohol. The classic social lubricant." This does not, however, preclude him from obtaining a glass of dark red wine for himself. The sudden explosions turn his head, a concerned furrow coming to his brow. "What--? Oh." A half-snort of resigned amusement escapes him before he turns back to the crowd. "Ginella." A somewhat awkward nod. "I tried my best to get Tiv here on time, but you know how he is." He even manages to say it with a perfectly straight face, though he can't look at either of them while saying so. "Ahhh, Aida--Whoa!!" The explosions this time startle him into a half-crouch, eyeing the entrance with mild alarm.
"Ah, as always our wings do like to put on a little spectacle." G'thon, freed from S'lien's grip, brushes imaginary wrinkles out of his shirt and pats down his greatcoat, allowing his smile to retreat to milder proportion. "Miniyal," murmurs the Weyrleader, and then - well. The slight tip of his head could be construed as anything, really. It might be a curious cant: are you well? It might be a gesture of helplessness: S'lien's just like this, please pardon him. It might be a directive: Would you go find out what the hell is happening around here? - "Ah, Wingleader!" For E'sere, that greeting. "Your timing is extraordinary. Allow me to let you and the Weyrleader to catch up?" G'thon's turn to put out hands: one dares S'lien's arm, the other E'sere's. A look back and forth from one man's face to the other, then G'thon withdraws. Another tip of his head toward Miniyal and the Reachian Weyrleader seems inclined to head across the cavern toward the source of the bangs.
Reyce isn't enjoying the festivities. He's cursing at them, though it's being conveniently censored by the loud explosions - and then by Carina, who jams her elbow into his gut. "Nuh-uh," she says musically, her words carrying in one of the pauses between banging noise. She casts her gaze around to see how the rest of the room is taking it, her eyes passing briefly over Penny with a quirk of her brows - know anything? - and then onwards.
"Cousin," S'lien greets E'sere in turn, that charming smile still in place as he reaches out to clap a hand to the other bronzerider's shoulder. A nod and another smile are cast after G'thon before he returns his attention to E'sere. "Seems there's been some trouble over you lately," he says with a chuckle. "Never thought they'd be cracking down on us for good Blood, hmm?"
Miniyal stands up and smooths down her dress needlessly. Then she gathers her shawl about her and smiles, a flicker of an expression. "I, umm, need a drink. Please excuse me." Aha! Excuse. Whereas before wine would have forced her to possibly socialise this time it will save her from such a horror!
Ginella gives T'ral a look for that response, shaking her head. "Not good enough," she replies, rolling her eyes at the pair of them. As the explosions continue, she continues frowning, shaking her head a little. "Some sort of show? But then... why did the guards all leave?" She gestures at the spots where they used to be, and in the process notices Penny alone. "Come on," she tells the pair, getting a hold of T'ral's hand and thus forcing them to come with her, "You two'll have to make up for being so late by being nice to my friends." In this way, she rejoins the journeyman, offering hint of a smile. "Penny, you remember T'ral? And this is Br'ce, another brownrider transfer. Br'ce, this is Journeyman Smith Penny. Pen, where did Jensen say he was going?"
Essdara chuckles softly and pats Aelan's shoulder softly. "Best to get it out of the way, I guess. Besides, you could do a lot worse than him, if you have to marry someone of that ilk." She shrugs a little. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you avoid it, though. But evem I am not that uppity."
Penny catches that look from Carina and lifts a shoulder, helplessly. Nope, she's baffled. After a few moments, she steps closer to Ginella, uneasily. "Evening, T'ral," she greets the goldrider's boyfriend with a nod and a relatively normal smile. "Of course I remember him. And... Br'ce? Well met." She glances back toward Ginella and then toward the kitchens where the guards disappeared. "He didn't," she replies, somewhat shortly, her terseness betraying her unease at the signs of trouble. She jumps a little at each explosion.
Aida's eyes again narrow, darting from here to there as if more searching than watching. She looks here, she looks there, and she starts to frown. There's another look towards the entrance, and then she's catching her name and a familiar voice, and her eyes go that way. Br'ce and his crouch are taken in before she makes note of those around him, and so while she does start to drift in that direction, she aims for a nearby table.
"Did you notice he didn't seem all that happy about his mother?" Aelan asks of Dara, though her gaze remains on the explosions by the door, brows furrowing slightly. "I suppose there's something to be said for that. I mean, Lady Sian is /the/ most polite and ladylike person on the planet, so I suppose if you're not happy with that, then, well, you could /be/ happy with...not Lady Sian. There was something logically sound in there, right?" she asks, looking back over with another sip of her wine.
Issa makes her way over to the caverns entrance, in an attempt to catch the the last few bits of the display that everyone is oohing and aaahing over. A quirk of a smile finds its way to her mouth as she recognizes the silhouette of a blue and whose it is. Slowly though, her attention wanes, and she turns to survey those standing around with her. Seeing Reyce, along with some other woman, standing almost immediately to her left. Though he looks somewhat distracted, she decides to greet him nonetheless. "Reyce? Good to see you. Issa," she adds, to avoid awkwardness. "I'm the fellow..." a pause for the consideration of other company, almost imperceptible, "en..thusiast. Remember?"
More sparks and shimmering pieces filter downward, though this time not solely from the exploding packages. Snow has started to whisper its way into the evening air, swirling slightly under the wings of the two dragons that toy with the currents. Another loud bang, this one bigger than the others by far. A brilliant shade of bluish green finds its piece of sky to illuminate, sparking for a brief moment of time, then descending in glittering streams earthwards.
E'sere smirks slightly, expression bemused as he regards G'thon. "Yes, sir. Good evening, Weyrleader," he tells the older man, watching him a moment before turning back to S'lien with a wry smile. "Indeed. Not all of us can come by it in as admirable a fashion as you." That is, legitimately. He continues, "It seems to me, after thirty turns, it'd be water under the bridge, particularly for a place as... fond of profit as Nabol, but." His shrug is mild, expression less so as he regards his cousin. "I believe the issue is close to resolve at this point." His tone is purposefully light, sounding hardly concerned.
"Evening," T'ral murmurs, towed along obediently by Ginella, and shooting Br'ce a glare that fairly dares the man to abandon him alone with the women. "Journeyman, of course, how are you?" Fairly polished, or at least fairly polite. "I'm sure it's nothing. Entertainment." Not a terribly convincing claim from a man who's watching the door through which the guards disappeared with some interest.
Essdara chuckles softly and shrugs. "Dunno her that well. She offered to help me once, back when I was struggling to have more authority than I was due. I'm glad she never followed through, but she did seem nice in an intense kind of way." She looks over at Aelan for a moment. "Don't worry 'bout the bangs, it's just Tavaly and T'zen. Can always trust them to be a spectcle." She shakes her head. "Ah, well. What next, I wonder, for this intense of a night?"
"I would be more alarmed by guards coming than going, actually." Br'ce observes mildly, as he obediently trails after T'ral and Ginella. "As long as they're leaving, it means the trouble isn't coming here." A polite smile and a courtly bow. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Journeyman Penny." he says, somewhat formally. "I wonder who's responsible for the all this brouhaha. It doesn't seem like an announced event. Or a particularly well-aimed event, either, with how close they're getting." Don't mind him, he's an alarmist.
G'thon wends his way through the crowd - a crowd that becomes ever thicker toward the entrance to the bowl, the arch of stone through which the wild display outside may be observed. At the fringes of the onlookers, the Weyrleader stops and watches a moment, then bows his shaking head, smile turning introspective and sly. Apparently, he has decided all is well - for he puts his back to the display outside and drifts off toward the serving tables, perhaps to pick out a second course of cake.
S'lien laughs, a rich tenor sound. "Come, now, surely you wouldn't impugn your own mother's Blood," he chides easily. "You come by enough fair and square. Good to hear things are being resolved, though. Thought I heard something about limited coverage on the next fall. Was trying to decide if I needed more men on my borders just in case. So, cousin," he continues, settling with lazy comfort into a chair. "When are you going to whip this place into shape, hmm? Any thoughts about who'll be flying next and who's likely to catch? Open flight, by any chance?" he asks, grin wicked.
Reyce turns to Issa with a puzzled frown, mouthing the word 'enthusiast?' with obvious confusion. And then something seems to register with him, and there's a flicker of recognition - and relief, strangely - in his eyes. "Issa. I can't remember your green's name, but I remember you." He scans her face, taking in detail. A small, approving smile crosses his features briefly. "We meet again." Carina is still distracted by the bangs, so she doesn't notice Reyce for the moment.
Ginella frowns a little. "Didn't say anything? That's odd. They all just up and left." She runs a hand over her hair, and then smiles a bit at Br'ce. "I'm sure so long as we stay indoors we'll be safe enough. Should we go watch a bit, maybe?" she asks, looking at her three companions. T'ral's gaze is followed to the kitchen door and she shakes her head very faintly at him. No way.
"I don't think that the display--" And here Penny pauses, flinching at the latest, much bigger bang, "--necessarily has anything to do with where the guards are going." She swallows, taking a long breath and glancing down, rather longingly, at her glass. She eyes Br'ce almost condescendingly, shaking her head. "They were here to make sure no trouble broke out. The fact that they all left at once, going somewhere else, means that there is some form of trouble somewhere else in the Weyr. And it would have to be fairly major to require Jensen's entire regiment." A slip there, not using the Captain's title. But she's distracted. T'ral gets a wan smile. "If it was all about the explosions, don't you think the guards would be headed out there," and she points toward the bowl, "and not into the lower caverns?"
"I'll bet it goes back to dress talk soon enough," Aelan guesses, looking over to Dara with a wry smile before looking back out to the bowl. "Actually, I bet it never /stopped/ being dress talk over there," she observes bemusedly, pointing towards a corner of young female weyrfolk. "Such a...well-behaved gather."
Essdara chuckles softly, "A gather of the truly important, all the people who matter in one place... While they are still here, the rest of us won't be able to enjoy ourselves." She gives Aelan a curious look. "I guess my question is, when they are gone, where will you be? Here, or gone as well?"
Click here to go on to Part 4.
Time: Turnover between Turn 1 and 2
Players: Everyone!
Scene: Things take a turn for the strange.
Tavaly turns to Kierom for the moment, and that wicked grin of hers suddenly flourishes. "I did promise you a dance. Will you take it up now, or save it for later, Kiekie?" Nicknames. Don't let the other guards hear that one.
It's the terrible duo that enter the party late. Br'ce enters with T'ral, the two of them already bickering good naturedly, dressed up in their party finest. "I'm sorry, but I swear that shirt wasn't wrinkled when I laid it out this afternoon. I refuse to wear a wrinkled shirt to an event like this, it's simply sloppy." Br'ce protests, plucking at the fine (wrinkle-free) fabric of his shirt.
Aida laughs, shaking her head and waving Kierom in that direction. "Not at all," she assures him, lifting her glass to punctuate her statement. "I think I will somehow manage to survive on my own." There's a wink given, another smile flashed towards Tava and Dara, and then she's turning to ghost in the direction of the food.
"Ahh. The lurker in the records room." Aspen has the sudden 'aha!' of enlightenment as G'
Essdara eyes Tavaly warily. "I will do my best, Tava, though I can't promise how effective I will be. And I definately am saving you a dance, when you are ready for it. Seems I'm without a partner now anyway." A sigh.
The little Telgari nods once to Kelar. "Thank you. If I stay to look, you must of course head off. I shall expect an appropriate farewell in your next letter." She turns to go and then stops, because look who has just arrived. "Ohhhhh shells," is muttered under the girl's breath. And instead of moving towards the two newly arrived Weyrleaders, she instead makes her way towards the kitchens.
Ginella smiles a bit at Carina, warming to the woman by the moment. "Indeed," she replies dryly about Reyce before nodding: "I am enjoying myself so far, I suppose. Meeting people one doesn't know is always interesting. Oh, they put you in the barracks? I'm surprised," she admits, "It's not really... up to your standards, I would think. What was your impression?"
Kierom chcuckles slightly at the greenriders and blushes slightly. He looks between Essdara and Tav, and his smile broadens. "Well, as soon as they start the next song, I'm game. And having the two ladies I promised dances to here, is good."
E'sere's eyes fall on the doorway as soon as S'lien enters, drawn inexorably to his cousin. Frowning but a moment, he's quick to turn back to Issa at his side, continuing his conversation with the greenrider. "I'm not sure I'd believe that," he remarks, purposefully lightly to the woman. He favors her with a crooked grin, not oblivious to that look she now directs at him. "We've all our problems, some just less dire than others."
Tavaly beams immediately. "We're not waiting for the next song. C'mon!" She gives Dara's shoulders a quick hug in thanks then loops her arm with Kierom and leans over to whisper into his ear.
Sharp emerald eyes make note of Roa's retreat, S'lien's perfect lips curling with a touch of dark amusement as he watches the junior gold like a dragon watching lunch. Though he notes the retreat, he murmurs polite farewells to his Weyrwoman, dropping her off with another group of dress-chatting women, before making his way to make his greetings where Lexine is holding court, the pair seeming to settle down for a moment of conversation.
K'sar gives Essdara a teasing smile, nodding to those near her. "Tavaly." then to Dara. "Might I have this dance, dear lady? You look most lovely toni..." and his voice stops in mid-phrase as he catches a glimpse of S'lien and he mutters something definitely /not/ polite and then slaps a smile on his face. "Please..?"
Most likely, Samien recognizes the bracing for what it is. But he is gracious about it and welcomes the daughter of Keroon's hands into his, welcomes her movements to fall into time with his, and as if it were as natural as breathing, commences leading her into the dancing. "But I had no idea your dance was already interrupted," he jovially protests, eyes seeking out hers to hold her gaze - should she look away, he watches her; when she looks back, his attention is still there, a slow, sweet trap to draw her in again. "Certainly I did better to err on the side of excess manners? I would hate to seem a clod in front of your friend, Aelan. - May I call you Aelan?"
Penny spares some attention for Ginella's companion, looking curiously at Carina for a few moments as if waiting for an introduction. But then there's a tug on her wine glass. "What-- what are you doing?" Penny reaches after her glass as Jensen pulls it away, dumbfounded. "Have you lost your mind?"
Blinking at discovery, Miniyal sits up straighter. Posture back on command. She even rises from her chair and drops a clumsy curtsey to the weyrleader. "G'thon," she says politely, a small smile there and then gone. "I, umm. No. I don't think so. Lord Aspen? A pleasure to meet you." Really, a pleasure. Her tone is even and polite so it's something anyway.
Tavaly grins at the guard and nods her head, gesturing toward the door. "C'mon! Haven't got much time before we start!" With that, the greenriding weyrling and Kierom disappear out the door to the bowl..
"You shouldn't be drinkin' in your condition," Jensen replies calmly, now holding two glasses of wine. When Penny reaches for hers he pulls it out of her reach. A-nope. And what might her condition /be/? "You're sick. Worst thing for a headcold is alcohol." Or something like that.
Essdara blinks after Tavaly's abrupt exit, then shrugs and turns back to K'sar. "Sorry about that. As I was saying... Where have you been? I never see you any more. A girl could get to thinking you didn't like her, or think she was pretty enough anymore." She grins teasingly.
You sense K'sar murmurs "Stay here. I'll be right back. Promise."
Kierom nods and giddles slightly, following Tavaly outside. Always an adventure!
"It's my name," Aelan answers Samien, the words missing the manners filter by a mile, though at least they seem more honest than sarcastic. When she looks back to him to find him still watching her, she flushes, clearing her throat and looking down. "What I /meant/ to say was, of course you can call me Aelan." And then she looks up again, and he's /still/ looking. Though her steps are confident and graceful enough, her expression grows uncertain as she reaches up to brush her bangs out of her eyes. "Do I have something on my face? I looked before I came, but I had to walk across the bowl..."
Reyce frowns at both of them - he's standing right here, y'know? - but he takes his beating in silence. Carina just gives an expressive grimace. "Oh, forgive me, but I'm not /that/ willing to experience the Caucus. I spent last night in my own bed, thank you - I changed my clothes here and that's /it/." Her throaty laugh returns. "But if you want my brief impression of it, I'd say it was nice enough. I would have liked to look at those rugs hung on the wall, but there was no time." She glances at Reyce with a bright smile that pays no mind to his frowning. "Reyce lacks all appreciation for being fashionably late."
K'sar turns away from Essdara for a moment, murmuring to her, then glances around the room and with a jaunty grin, starts towards Jensen. "Jensen! Think we might be celebrating a new member of the Weyr this eve? I could use your help, sir, in preparing a fitting tribute..."
"Ahh. The lurker in the records room." Aspen has the sudden 'aha!' of enlightenment as G'thon introduces Miniyal. "I've heard rumors about you. Finally put a face to that name." Eyes narrow slightly in consideration before he turns back to the weyrleader. "And please, I'm hardly a Lord. My grandfather doesn't even like me. Lord Aspen takes too much time to say. Though it does have a pleasant ring to it..." A moment's thoughtful navel-gazing ensues. "Maybe I should insist that people call me Lord Aspen. Lord Aspen. Loooorrrdd Asssssssp. Pen." He experiments with the title, drawing out the syllables comically and breaking them up.
Fully tuned, the new quartet strikes up a face-paced ditty, the singer stomping his foot and clapping his hands as he tells the humorous tail of a stubborn little runner that wouldn't run.
Roa departs for the kitchen. (To follow Roa, click here.)
T'ral snorts inelegantly, surveying the room for a moment with a thoughtful glance. "They must be doing beer here, for those who didn't grow up with access to their own cellar." It's a dig at his friend, accompanied by an elbow to the ribs. "Something to drink, and then we find her, and /you/ explain exactly what held us up. There ought to be plenty of girls around to understand."
Kelar has an empty glass and a bottle of something guaranteed to burn his throat. Refusing to catch the headmaster's eye, the man falls into conversation with a pair of local girls, liberally topping up their drinks from K'sar's bottle. Whatever story he's telling them, it involves riotous laughter and a great deal of gesturing.
There's something about sending people fleeing and bracing themselves that just seems to make S'lien even more charming, as sweet and sharp as a blade in the dark. Those sharp eyes miss little, and a chaste kiss is placed on Lexine's cheek before he rises to approach G'thon. The former Weyrwoman watches her nephew with a gaze that matches his own, while S'lien glides through the crowds like a hot knife through butter, smoothing his passage with smiles and charm-soaked greetings.
Samien laughs a twinkling, delighted laugh. "Thank you, Aelan. Please, call me Samien." As the music changes, the Lord completes their dance with a graceful, easy slow and stop of steps. He frees a hand from beneath Aelan's to lift a finger to her cheek and draw it down to her chin, eyes following its movement - then he laughs again, light and airy, and says, "Of course not. But if you will allow me to put something there - " He steps inward, as easily as if it were a dance step set to this new, fast-paced music, and bends to press a swift kiss to the Lord's daughter's cheek. Just as quickly he steps back, already releasing her other hand. "Thank you for the dance, Aelan."
Essdara looks after K'sar with a frown; abandoned, again. A shrug, and she moves towards Aida, giving her a smile. "Managing to keep occupied, Aida? It's... Very intense out there, isn't it?"
Condition? Penny pales a little in confusion, even underneath her dark complexion and the touches of cosmetics on her eyes and cheeks and lips. She glances at Ginella, and finding her still lost in conversation with Carina, is forced to turn back to Jensen. "I should think the worst thing for a headcold would be, oh, cold?" After a moment, she glances towards the exit to the wintery bowl. Then she looks back, her smile rather grim. "I don't imagine one glass of wine will make all that much difference, in the long run."
Food. Aida gives the offerings a few moments inspection, then snags for herself something small that does not require a plate. She waits until she's slid back away from the tables and out of the way of people to set to nibbling on it, back to watching people. Oh, and then there's Essdara. She puts on another smile, lifting her chin just a bit. "I am," she comments agreeably. "And...I don't know that 'intense' is the word I would use. It's interesting at least. Are you enjoying yourself?"
Jensen is distracted. By K'sar. "A fitting tribute?" When the man nears and drops his voice, Jen ducks his head to better hear over the music and everything. His eyebrows furrow and a Look takes over his features. He glances at Penny, and thrusts both wine glasses into her hands. "Take these, don't drink from either of 'em, and... stay here." The 'please' doesn't need to be voiced, it's in his eyes, for her. /Please/. And without another word he starts gather his men via subtle waving and gesturing, gathered around the cavern as they are.
"Smart of you," Issa retorts quickly at E'sere's disbelief with a sly smile slipping behind her wine glass yet again. For each flirty glance the greenrider spares for E'sere, she spares an evaluating one for Sinopa, to see if the small points have found their target. "And what are your completely non-dire troubles, E'sere? Enlighten me. Handsome bronzerider, wingleader, with a goldrider on his arm..." Words are punctuated with a small touch, fingers gently grazing E'sere's elbow. "Seems like it's all sun and sky from here." She's getting less and less subtle with her body language. Must be the wine affecting her, though she still hasn't finished the glass he got for her.
Something is clearly not computing for Aelan after Samien's flirting, the Keroon lady just blinking at the Reaches Lord before remembering to breathe in and respond. The wry, uncertain smile that curves is almost genuine, considering the lord with tilted chin before a low chuckle follows. "Yes," she finally says, stepping back to manage a presentable curtsey. "Thank you for the dance, Samien. I...I hope you enjoy your evening," she concludes with genuine, if confused, warmth before starting to back away, the near-grace ruined neatly by bumping right into a passing bluerider.
Br'ce rolls his eyes in exasperation, exasperation which is quickly cut short by an elbow to the ribs "Ow." The complaint has the sound of both genuine pain and long habit, to boot. "I thought we'd just smile, nod, and say that we were held up by forces beyond our control, and leave it at that." he mutters, glancing around the room. A deep breath and he draws himself up to his best posture, plastering a polite smile on his face. "Time to do our social duty, I suppose. Oh, look, there's Ginella." He heads through the crowd, dispensing nods and greetings freely.
G'thon can't help a laugh - an unrehearsed one - at Aspen's experimentation. "There's a certain presumption upon the close family of Blood, Aspen. Probably best if you learn to enjoy the sound now. - Ah, Weyrleader." S'lien's approach is impossible to miss - impossible, anyway, for a man so attuned to knives in the dark as G'thon might be. The Reachian weyrleader reaches out hands for the Telgari one, hands that could as easily clasp shoulders as clasp a single outstretched hand. With some people, you always hedge your bets. "Welcome at last. How have the festivities been at Telgar tonight?"
Essdara glances out at the dance floor, and then back at Aida. "Oh, I would say I am, yes. Had a lovely half-dance, but alas, she was stolen away y someone more befitting her station. Tavaly is... Well, we'll see what she's doing, I guess. I forget, did I get you to promise me a dance tonight? If not, then consider the request made... Though not just now."
Ginella ignores Reyce entirely, but for when Carina indicates him. "I should hope they didn't," she agrees, "I'm glad you didn't find them completely appalling, at least, during your brief view. Reyce's punctuality earns a shrug, "I'm afraid I wasn't very late, myself. Now certain /others/ I cannot say the same for..." Eyes begin to trail around the room again, but Penny and Jensen distract her. She watches them for a moment, but misses Penny's glance, and so leaves them be. K'sar's appearance draws things to a head, and she smiles politely at Carina, "If you'll excuse me, Lady Carina? I believe I need another glass of wine."
K'sar murmurs to Jensen again and reaches for one of Penny's glasses of wine, nodding to her with a polite smile. "Might I? A lady should never have both hands full when there is dance music playing."
Ack. More people? No, no, no. This is not good. Miniyal sits back down, hands folded in her lap and trying to act like she's perfectly comfortable. Which she's not. Fidget. Tug at shawl. Tug at gown. Kick at floor with one slipper.
Aida laughs lightly, shaking her head. "You did not," she points out lightly. "I believe I very pointedly noted that I was making no promises -- and I'm not." The little bit of something being nibbled on is finished off, washed down with a drink of wine, and then she's loosely wrapping her free arm in around her midsection. "I'm enjoying myself watching. There's a great deal to see." Beat. "All the pretty dresses and things are just phenomenal, aren't they?"
S'lien's grip to G'thon's forearm is nothing if not testing, his smile just a little too smooth. "Busy as usual, old man," he greets, injecting the name with a warmth that barely makes it respectable. "But not too busy. We're expecting Thread tomorrow, so no late nights for some of the wings. Just came in to check in on the transplants, make sure they weren't causing you too much trouble." The smile he extends to Miniyal after the statement is blindingly white, gauged to perfection - at least for unterrified records keepers, that is.
"As do I, Aelan. Perhaps I'll see you again tonight," replies Samien as the young woman from Keroon starts to back away. The Lord High Reaches turns then, at just the right moment to miss seeing the little bumping-into-bluerider moment - such timing can hardly be coincidental - and slides off through the crowd toward the passageway that leads to the upper caverns and the craft hall beyond.
"Forces beyond our control." T'ral echoes Br'ce with a faint frown. "Do you think that's what girls've meant all these turns, when they've been saying they..." With the air of a man realising something long-true, the brownrider suddenly laughs. "Social duty it is. And beer, let's keep that in mind, too." The bulky brownrider mightn't quite have Master Derien's knack of forging through a crowd (no pun intended), but he does manage to find a path, shooting Ginella a grin over a sea of heads as he makes for the drinks.
Aspen shrugs at G'thon. "I could get used to it. People have an extraordinary talent for becoming accustomed to anything. Including salted fish." he adds, as an afterthought. Brows draw in curiously as he gazes at Miniyal, adding his own rather uncompromisingly intent stare to S'lien's smile.
Essdara grins a bit, "I admit, I've not been looking all that much. But the ones I noticed are all gorgeous. I do feel decidedly underdressed for the night." Then, with a glance out, she gives a sigh, and points towards the bowl dramatically. In a loud voice full of surprise, she says, "Hey, what's that in the bowl!?"
As if to supplement the announcement made my Essdara, there comes a chorus of two draconic voices raised in mirth, trilling and rising, falling and warbling. And following the echoes of that short duet come two loud *BANGS* from somewhere out in the open space of the Northern Bowl. Those closest to the exit will see two fantastic flashes of light - mid-air explosions that glitter in the high moon light, sending a multitude of sparks and puffs of curling smoke into the air.
Three men arrive at Jensen's left, and he murmurs something under his breath at them. They leave the cavern. Five remain, still at their various stations throughout the party. Jen nods once at K'sar, hands at his sides. Just nevermind the clenching of his jaw; he's cool.
Samien is gone by the time Aelan is finishing stumbling over wry-smiled apologies to the bluerider, the girl brushing herself off and letting out a long-held breath before her gaze returns to the crowd, searching. All that composure dissolves again, though, as she jumps towards the source of the bang, blinking wide-eyed at the entrance.
Sinopa's glowering continues unabated in the wake of E'sere's extended conversation with Issa, though the Reaches goldrider is quite content to let another young Lord fawn on her in turn. The wingleader is not unaware of those looks, that attempted vengeance, though he keeps his eyes focused on Issa. "I believe that goldrider on my arm qualifies as one of them at this point," he remarks wryly to the greenrider. "I'll have profuse apologies at the ready later this evening to explain my protracted quest for a glass of wine. But--" briefly, his hazel eyes flicker past Issa to the two Weyrleaders now meeting "--I think I've taken enough of your time, at least. I should go schmooze, I think." It's said heavily, almost as if he doesn't enjoy that task. Though, he's quick to add, "Unless you'd care to accompany me?" His brows arch, and chivalrously, he offers an arm toward the woman.
"It's such an opportunity..." Aida starts, only to trail off and blink a bit, her attention jerking to the bowl. She takes a few steps closer to the nearest table so that she can set her glass down, but does not react further than that, instead shifting her eyes to sweep around and over those still within the cavern.
Suddenly finding herself not only with her own glass but with Jensen's as well, Penny blinks. "Wha--" She stops, seeing that Look and somehow instantly subsiding. She watches him leave, eyes widened a little. K'sar's polite request is almost unnoticed, until she blinks and looks at him. "What? Oh. Sure." She hands him one of the glasses, Jensen's, and looks down at her own with some confusion. That is, until the bangs. Already having picked up on the tension in the guards, she actually lets out a startled cry of surprise or maybe even fear, covering her mouth immediately in embarrassment, but still looking outside with alarm.
Carina is all graciousness, turning her hand over in a permissive little gesture. "Of course, Weyrwoman." The title slips easily off her tongue, as though she'd known Ginella by it all her life. "I'm delighted -" BANG! Carina draws herself up abruptly, her lips pressed tight as she scans the entrance for any hint of an explanation. Reyce, unconsciously echoing his sister's posture, takes a step forward, towards the door, and stops. His eyes narrow with wariness, but there's clearly no understanding of what happened on his part, either.
G'thon has lived almost a turn now on sweets and wine and little else; he has grace to spare but hardly a chance of wrenching free from S'lien's casual grasp without seeming - well - unseemly. So the Reachian Weyrleader laughs again and just -glows- his lopsided smile at the Weyrleader born to the Blood he once served. "There has never been a Telgari yet who's caused me trouble, S'l - " G'thon's pause and glance toward the exit betrays that the sudden 'entertainment' must be unexpected.
Ashwin arrives through the long tunnel that comes from the lower caverns.
Again, dragon-song litters the airspace in the bowl, followed by two more bangs, this time with a few breaths of time between them. In the available light, the bodies of two dragons can be seen swooping and diving within the bowl's vacant air. Momentary spurts of flame proceed them just before the air erupts with colorful sparks and shimmering trails. The drunken holler of everyone's favorite bluerider just might be heard after one such bang..
Essdara, her job done, lowers her arm with crimson cheeks. "Well, that as interesting." She mutters to herself. She sighs, and moves to get a drink for herself, apparently forgetting her friend for the moment. Unlike most, she gets a nice cold fruit juice to sip at, eschewing the wine. She looks out over the crowd of people, and spots the flustered looking Aelan. With a quick decision, she procures a wine glass and moves over to her, offering it out. "Look like you could use this, Aelan." She says softly, just loud enough to be heard. "Was his dancing that phenomenal?" She teases.
Miniyal leans back against her chair to try to place that much more distance between herself and the people looking at her. How dare someone look at her? Alas, it doesn't seem to work. She nods stiffly and almost smiles. That's all. Thankfully there is a distraction. Now, if they all just look the other way she can slip out.
And as loud noises sound, two from Boll and one from Fort make their exit. Kelar surrenders his bottle to his two new friends, and Bailie's faint protests at missing the fun can be heard briefly -- and then they are gone. Another party in another place. Politics require it.
Sefton and Bailie depart
"Some festivities you've got here, old man," S'lien chuckles, maintaining his grip as he looks over towards the bowl. It's another long moment before he releases the Weyrleader's forearm, exchanging it for a brief clap on the shoulder. "Miss this place sometimes. It'll always feel like home." His sidelong glance and broad smile are simply seraphic, though such innocence can only hide other thoughts.
K'sar reaches out a hand to Penny. "Easy. It's just a show outside." He turns to Jensen and nods once. Firmly. "Now" is mouthed to him and he turns and heads for the Stores.
Ginella detaches herself from all around her and meanders slowly towards the drink table, that not having been her real object. T'ral, as soon as his head is spotted, becomes her object, as the goldrider's face lights up. She still gives him a hard swat on the arm when they meet, though. "What /took/ you so long? I've been waiting and waiting. Thank Faranth for Penny! You'd better have something to say for you--" She's cut off by the bang, which clearly startles the goldrider, and she reaches a hand to T'ral's arm once again. "What was that?"
Issa smiles, amused at E'sere's answer. "I think I'd better let you get back to your troubles, wingleader," is her reply to his offer, a polite dip of her head all that's offered as a way of thanks. She walks his way for a bit, though, passing close by him and laying her free hand at his elbow once again, pausing to lean in as she says, "But thank you for the conversation. It was... quite pleasant." Surprising sincerity is there, though hidden behind the attempt to charm the jealousy out of Sinopa. "Enjoy the rest of the party."
Jensen, having been watching K'sar closely, sees that silent signal and nods. He's on his way to the kitchen and fast. Passing Ashwin on the way he jerks his chin once. C'mon, Lieutenant.
"Thanks," Aelan breathes, taking the glass of wine and swallowing a good half of it at once before managing a wan smile back towards Dara. "Not the dancing so much. More the...not looking away. And the not looking down." She gives herself a little shake, taking another drink as she mumbles, "Came in trying to avoid all the bachelors and end up dancing with the biggest sharding one."
Ashwin was, wait for it, making progress with a girl. A historic occasion, so abruptly cut short by that jerk of Jensen's chin. She's abandoned mid-sentence as the guard falls into step behind Jensen wordlessly.
Jensen, K'sar, and Ashwin depart to the kitchens. (To follow Jensen, K'sar, and Ashwin, click here.)
Aida relaxes again once she realizes what it is that's going on, and reaches to take back up her wineglass. She starts to turn back towards Essdara again, only to find the other girl walking away. There's a moment given over to a narrow-eyed look sent towards Dara's back, and then she's putting back on her smile. She sips again from her wine, again moving to start wandering through the various people and going back to watching.
Penny looks over at K'sar as he reaches out that comforting hand. She smiles at him, looking wryly embarrassed. "Of course," she replies, looking on as he and Jensen leave. Left on her own, Penny just watches the guards exit to the kitchen. She glances around at the other partygoers, as if wondering why no one else is picking up on the guards' mass exodus; blatantly frightened, it takes her a moment of clutching her wine glass and standing there to calm herself, looking for the first time utterly uncomfortable in the festive gathering.
The next round of loud cracks is *much* closer to the weyr. Close enough that the lights glimmer within the doorway and a few glittering strands of cloth manage to dust the path leading from the living cavern. The night air is filled with various colors, all inconsistant and vibrant. Purples, reds, greens, blues, yellows, brilliant whites. And of course, the loud, echoing honks of two dragons animated and excited. *BANG!* *BANG!*
E'sere's smile is tight as he observes the commotion outside. "I believe," he remarks, "that's one of mine. We'll have words in the morning." For now, though, he favors Issa with another smile, nodding. "And thank you," is his equally low reply. "I enjoyed it myself. Good night, Issa--I look forward to a repeat sometime in the future." Then, purposefully, he strides off, toward G'thon and S'lien. The pair is greeted with an easy smile as he slides himself into the doings. "Weyrleader." This to G'thon; for S'lien, he has a simple, "S'lien. I hope I'm not interrupting? How fares Telgar?" He glances between the pair, brows arching slightly.
T'ral knows the answer to that one. "Circumstances beyond our control, right, Br'ce?" He turns his head to his friend, shooting the other man a broad grin. "Good practice for you, making conversation with all..." He's cut off as she reaches for his arm, head snapping around at the sound of the bang. "Something..." More bangs, and another interruption. "I have no idea."
"Not the girls you always went after. Wrinkled shirts weren't usually a concern for them." Br'ce responds dryly to T'ral. "Ah, alcohol. The classic social lubricant." This does not, however, preclude him from obtaining a glass of dark red wine for himself. The sudden explosions turn his head, a concerned furrow coming to his brow. "What--? Oh." A half-snort of resigned amusement escapes him before he turns back to the crowd. "Ginella." A somewhat awkward nod. "I tried my best to get Tiv here on time, but you know how he is." He even manages to say it with a perfectly straight face, though he can't look at either of them while saying so. "Ahhh, Aida--Whoa!!" The explosions this time startle him into a half-crouch, eyeing the entrance with mild alarm.
"Ah, as always our wings do like to put on a little spectacle." G'thon, freed from S'lien's grip, brushes imaginary wrinkles out of his shirt and pats down his greatcoat, allowing his smile to retreat to milder proportion. "Miniyal," murmurs the Weyrleader, and then - well. The slight tip of his head could be construed as anything, really. It might be a curious cant: are you well? It might be a gesture of helplessness: S'lien's just like this, please pardon him. It might be a directive: Would you go find out what the hell is happening around here? - "Ah, Wingleader!" For E'sere, that greeting. "Your timing is extraordinary. Allow me to let you and the Weyrleader to catch up?" G'thon's turn to put out hands: one dares S'lien's arm, the other E'sere's. A look back and forth from one man's face to the other, then G'thon withdraws. Another tip of his head toward Miniyal and the Reachian Weyrleader seems inclined to head across the cavern toward the source of the bangs.
Reyce isn't enjoying the festivities. He's cursing at them, though it's being conveniently censored by the loud explosions - and then by Carina, who jams her elbow into his gut. "Nuh-uh," she says musically, her words carrying in one of the pauses between banging noise. She casts her gaze around to see how the rest of the room is taking it, her eyes passing briefly over Penny with a quirk of her brows - know anything? - and then onwards.
"Cousin," S'lien greets E'sere in turn, that charming smile still in place as he reaches out to clap a hand to the other bronzerider's shoulder. A nod and another smile are cast after G'thon before he returns his attention to E'sere. "Seems there's been some trouble over you lately," he says with a chuckle. "Never thought they'd be cracking down on us for good Blood, hmm?"
Miniyal stands up and smooths down her dress needlessly. Then she gathers her shawl about her and smiles, a flicker of an expression. "I, umm, need a drink. Please excuse me." Aha! Excuse. Whereas before wine would have forced her to possibly socialise this time it will save her from such a horror!
Ginella gives T'ral a look for that response, shaking her head. "Not good enough," she replies, rolling her eyes at the pair of them. As the explosions continue, she continues frowning, shaking her head a little. "Some sort of show? But then... why did the guards all leave?" She gestures at the spots where they used to be, and in the process notices Penny alone. "Come on," she tells the pair, getting a hold of T'ral's hand and thus forcing them to come with her, "You two'll have to make up for being so late by being nice to my friends." In this way, she rejoins the journeyman, offering hint of a smile. "Penny, you remember T'ral? And this is Br'ce, another brownrider transfer. Br'ce, this is Journeyman Smith Penny. Pen, where did Jensen say he was going?"
Essdara chuckles softly and pats Aelan's shoulder softly. "Best to get it out of the way, I guess. Besides, you could do a lot worse than him, if you have to marry someone of that ilk." She shrugs a little. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you avoid it, though. But evem I am not that uppity."
Penny catches that look from Carina and lifts a shoulder, helplessly. Nope, she's baffled. After a few moments, she steps closer to Ginella, uneasily. "Evening, T'ral," she greets the goldrider's boyfriend with a nod and a relatively normal smile. "Of course I remember him. And... Br'ce? Well met." She glances back toward Ginella and then toward the kitchens where the guards disappeared. "He didn't," she replies, somewhat shortly, her terseness betraying her unease at the signs of trouble. She jumps a little at each explosion.
Aida's eyes again narrow, darting from here to there as if more searching than watching. She looks here, she looks there, and she starts to frown. There's another look towards the entrance, and then she's catching her name and a familiar voice, and her eyes go that way. Br'ce and his crouch are taken in before she makes note of those around him, and so while she does start to drift in that direction, she aims for a nearby table.
"Did you notice he didn't seem all that happy about his mother?" Aelan asks of Dara, though her gaze remains on the explosions by the door, brows furrowing slightly. "I suppose there's something to be said for that. I mean, Lady Sian is /the/ most polite and ladylike person on the planet, so I suppose if you're not happy with that, then, well, you could /be/ happy with...not Lady Sian. There was something logically sound in there, right?" she asks, looking back over with another sip of her wine.
Issa makes her way over to the caverns entrance, in an attempt to catch the the last few bits of the display that everyone is oohing and aaahing over. A quirk of a smile finds its way to her mouth as she recognizes the silhouette of a blue and whose it is. Slowly though, her attention wanes, and she turns to survey those standing around with her. Seeing Reyce, along with some other woman, standing almost immediately to her left. Though he looks somewhat distracted, she decides to greet him nonetheless. "Reyce? Good to see you. Issa," she adds, to avoid awkwardness. "I'm the fellow..." a pause for the consideration of other company, almost imperceptible, "en..thusiast. Remember?"
More sparks and shimmering pieces filter downward, though this time not solely from the exploding packages. Snow has started to whisper its way into the evening air, swirling slightly under the wings of the two dragons that toy with the currents. Another loud bang, this one bigger than the others by far. A brilliant shade of bluish green finds its piece of sky to illuminate, sparking for a brief moment of time, then descending in glittering streams earthwards.
E'sere smirks slightly, expression bemused as he regards G'thon. "Yes, sir. Good evening, Weyrleader," he tells the older man, watching him a moment before turning back to S'lien with a wry smile. "Indeed. Not all of us can come by it in as admirable a fashion as you." That is, legitimately. He continues, "It seems to me, after thirty turns, it'd be water under the bridge, particularly for a place as... fond of profit as Nabol, but." His shrug is mild, expression less so as he regards his cousin. "I believe the issue is close to resolve at this point." His tone is purposefully light, sounding hardly concerned.
"Evening," T'ral murmurs, towed along obediently by Ginella, and shooting Br'ce a glare that fairly dares the man to abandon him alone with the women. "Journeyman, of course, how are you?" Fairly polished, or at least fairly polite. "I'm sure it's nothing. Entertainment." Not a terribly convincing claim from a man who's watching the door through which the guards disappeared with some interest.
Essdara chuckles softly and shrugs. "Dunno her that well. She offered to help me once, back when I was struggling to have more authority than I was due. I'm glad she never followed through, but she did seem nice in an intense kind of way." She looks over at Aelan for a moment. "Don't worry 'bout the bangs, it's just Tavaly and T'zen. Can always trust them to be a spectcle." She shakes her head. "Ah, well. What next, I wonder, for this intense of a night?"
"I would be more alarmed by guards coming than going, actually." Br'ce observes mildly, as he obediently trails after T'ral and Ginella. "As long as they're leaving, it means the trouble isn't coming here." A polite smile and a courtly bow. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Journeyman Penny." he says, somewhat formally. "I wonder who's responsible for the all this brouhaha. It doesn't seem like an announced event. Or a particularly well-aimed event, either, with how close they're getting." Don't mind him, he's an alarmist.
G'thon wends his way through the crowd - a crowd that becomes ever thicker toward the entrance to the bowl, the arch of stone through which the wild display outside may be observed. At the fringes of the onlookers, the Weyrleader stops and watches a moment, then bows his shaking head, smile turning introspective and sly. Apparently, he has decided all is well - for he puts his back to the display outside and drifts off toward the serving tables, perhaps to pick out a second course of cake.
S'lien laughs, a rich tenor sound. "Come, now, surely you wouldn't impugn your own mother's Blood," he chides easily. "You come by enough fair and square. Good to hear things are being resolved, though. Thought I heard something about limited coverage on the next fall. Was trying to decide if I needed more men on my borders just in case. So, cousin," he continues, settling with lazy comfort into a chair. "When are you going to whip this place into shape, hmm? Any thoughts about who'll be flying next and who's likely to catch? Open flight, by any chance?" he asks, grin wicked.
Reyce turns to Issa with a puzzled frown, mouthing the word 'enthusiast?' with obvious confusion. And then something seems to register with him, and there's a flicker of recognition - and relief, strangely - in his eyes. "Issa. I can't remember your green's name, but I remember you." He scans her face, taking in detail. A small, approving smile crosses his features briefly. "We meet again." Carina is still distracted by the bangs, so she doesn't notice Reyce for the moment.
Ginella frowns a little. "Didn't say anything? That's odd. They all just up and left." She runs a hand over her hair, and then smiles a bit at Br'ce. "I'm sure so long as we stay indoors we'll be safe enough. Should we go watch a bit, maybe?" she asks, looking at her three companions. T'ral's gaze is followed to the kitchen door and she shakes her head very faintly at him. No way.
"I don't think that the display--" And here Penny pauses, flinching at the latest, much bigger bang, "--necessarily has anything to do with where the guards are going." She swallows, taking a long breath and glancing down, rather longingly, at her glass. She eyes Br'ce almost condescendingly, shaking her head. "They were here to make sure no trouble broke out. The fact that they all left at once, going somewhere else, means that there is some form of trouble somewhere else in the Weyr. And it would have to be fairly major to require Jensen's entire regiment." A slip there, not using the Captain's title. But she's distracted. T'ral gets a wan smile. "If it was all about the explosions, don't you think the guards would be headed out there," and she points toward the bowl, "and not into the lower caverns?"
"I'll bet it goes back to dress talk soon enough," Aelan guesses, looking over to Dara with a wry smile before looking back out to the bowl. "Actually, I bet it never /stopped/ being dress talk over there," she observes bemusedly, pointing towards a corner of young female weyrfolk. "Such a...well-behaved gather."
Essdara chuckles softly, "A gather of the truly important, all the people who matter in one place... While they are still here, the rest of us won't be able to enjoy ourselves." She gives Aelan a curious look. "I guess my question is, when they are gone, where will you be? Here, or gone as well?"
Click here to go on to Part 4.