Of Meteor Showers on the Istan Beach!
Jazra's Meteor Shower event
Jazra, Rilayen, V'lano, Cynara, Griere, Nolee, Kaylira, Caitlyn, et al.
Ista Weyr Plateau(#1094RJs)
In the slanting light of sunset, everything is bathed in golden light. The Istan Plateau is barely visible here on ground level for what it is: a mass of lava that flowed out from the broken line of the northwestern Istan bowl toward and into the sea. The rich soil of the plateau yields a lush dusky emerald and violet carpet of vegetation. The plateau suddenly ends at the sea in a high sloping cliff. You can see the rainbow of a roaring waterfall at the center edge, fed from a large pool that dragons often are found bathing in. A well-worn trail leads south from the plateau and down to the black volcanic sands of the island's beaches. The massive spires of the five black Spindles rise out of the ebon rock of the far side of the Weyr bowl to loom menacingly, distant yet still stark against the sky. The massive black stone of the Weyr seems to absorb all the sunset light falling on it.
Jazra
Dark steely gray eyes look out of a pert face, her raven hair has been cut around her ears, but no amount of cutting can tame the curls that frame the upper portion of her face. Her mouth swings in a crooked curve, her skin tanned bronze. Earrings made of sapphire glass hang from her ears. A white set of teeth is a sharp contrast to her tanned skin.
From head to toe Jazra's body is svelt and muscular. She's small boned and small chested, with delicate hands and small fingers. Her shoulders are muscular in proportion to her body, as are her legs. She has small feet and toes, like every other part of her. She's very small for a sixteen turn old, about 5'4" without a pound of spare flesh.
A simple tunic, dyed a deep abyssal indigo and without sleeves, hangs around mid thigh. A pair of sandy colored khaki shorts with extra pockets on the thighs hangs around her knees. A belt made of glass beads, shells, and small bells holds up the baggy garment. Thick heavy brown boots, lined with wherry down and very sturdy. A necklace of smooth round beads made of volcanic glass hangs around her neck. A thick black demin backpack, a longbow and a quiver of arrows hangs from her back. A simple bronze handled belt knife is sheathed at her belt. Several simple but colorful glass rings adorn her fingers. An additional, smaller knife is hidden in her right boot. And underneath the boots she has strings of small shells tied around her ankles.
Rilayen
From the top of his head, complete with thick dirty blond hair, to the soles of his feet, Rilayen is a tall young man who looks as though he could do with filling out some more. His light brown eyes have a faintly orange tinge to them when they catch the light, though they can never be mistaken for more than hazel. His face is lightly tanned, the dark brown of several small moles sticking out along his jawline, a faint dusting of freckles on the back of his thin neck. His nose is short and pointed; his eyebrows so pale a blonde as to appear almost invisible. His lips are thin and square, while his cheeks carry a slight roundness that still hasn't been lost from younger Turns. He's the sort of boy one probably not look at twice, especially so given that his clothes are nothing particularly fancy: a plain, sleeveless green shirt and trousers the same brown as a dusty trail. His sandals are a little too big for his feet and have a battered air that suggests hand-me-downs.
Rilayen moves with a casual ease, unassuming and unthreatening. His arms often swings loosely at his sides, giving his movements a carefree appearance that matches the light tone of his (breaking) voice. He looks to be about 16 Turns, 2 months, and 14 days old, and is around five foot eleven inches tall.
Cynara
Perhaps in her mid to late teens, this young woman has curves, but not, or not yet, full-bodied ones. Small in height and build, she barely tops five feet and would be considered 'petite' by most. Elfin features would seem even more delicate were it not for the deep tan that marks her skin. Stubborn black curls surround her face, cropped short to fit under a riding helmet, but still appearing as if the comb has no effect on them. Her best feature, perhaps, is her eyes, which are a startling, deep green, and sparkle with life and laughter.
Her dress reveals her profession, she's wearing relatively new riding leathers in a shade of rich, dark brown, cut to neatly fit her form. Black boots complete the outfit, the leathers tucked into them so as to expose no skin to the cold of between. Even in this outfit, the muscle she carries is actually visible. At her shoulder is a black and orange knot with a single strand of blue.
She seems to be about 18 Turns, 3 months, and 22 days old.
Nolee
Nolee's straight dishwater blonde hair is cut in a sharp, angular style, resting flat against her upper neck, then flipping outward at the ends, shaped by a helmet's frequent presence. She has arched brows and large brown expressive eyes. Dry, cracked hands are marred with a crisscross of tiny white scars from failed glassworking projects, and manicured nails are showing signs of wear.
This heavily tanned, broad-hipped young woman is clad in a tan pair of calf-length pants and a pale orange tank top with a row of abalone-like shells stitched along the scoop of the neckline. A decorative scarf in a deep orange with matching shell decor is draped about her neck and hangs long over one slender shoulder. The other bears an oil-shined knot in Ista's trademark black and orange, a strand of gold woven in. Limestone-stained leather sandals complete the ensemble. Though the weather lines in her heavily freckled complexion make her seem older, Nolee has lived 20 Turns, 1 months, and 11 days.
V'lano
Tousled curls frame a sun-drenched face, skin made rough over bridge of nose and above thick brows by much time spent outside. Dark, expressive eyes framed by rather absurdly long lashes are most often sparkling and brilliant, though a deeper weight of being can rarely be found there. His nose is a little narrow, but wide cheekbones and a slender jaw are not an unpleasing mix, and sparing curls of a moustache complement a smooth and even mouth. His hands are slender and as expressive as his eyes, softened by much time in dragon-hide oil. He appears to be somewhere in his early twenties.
His simple shirt of pale golden cotton, loosely laced twice below the throat, provides no resistance to any cooling breeze. He wears trousers of rough, light linen, crisp but loosely fit and cuffed just above tanned, sandaled feet. A complete lack of knot or badge finishes the image of a man at leisure. (+detail V'lano)
Griere
Despite being only 5'3", something about the way Griere holds herself often gives the impression that she's a good deal taller. There's something confident in the tilt of her rounded chin, something refined and delicate in the planes of her tanned cheeks and the slope of her pert nose. Her eyes seem to be incapable of settling on a single shade as they reflect the colors of her surroundings. Their steel-grey shifts to blue and back again, with flecks of violet and sometimes green showing themselves in certain lights. The mahogany brown hair that once fell about her shoulders in heavy, loose curls has been cropped short. Those curling ends are now about her ears, defiantly twisting and coiling no matter what attempts are made to tame them.
Tan suede trousers hug Griere's lower half, resting low on her hips. The pants look almost like they were patched together though the seams appear to be decorative, running down the fronts and backs of her legs and then around them at equal intervals, accenting their shape. Small heeled sandals peek out from beneath the loose cuffs. Her shirt is little more than a wisp of white fabric, hanging loosely over her bronzed shoulders, arms bare, and falling in a generous scoop over her modest chest. The thin material is tailored just slightly and clings as she moves. The hem falls just below her navel, showing a glimpse of her tanned stomach.
If you glance again, you may notice a few other +details.
Etched Distance Viewer(#8283V)
A barrel as thick as a double fist and painted a deep but opalescent blue, forms the main body of this distance viewer. Bits of silver paint form stars, and the two moons across the top. The dawn sisters also are painted along it, near the end of the barrel. The lower half is painted a deep green, with jungle shades and a bit of tan shoreline, beyond it are the liquid seafoam of the Istan waters. The viewer is mounted on a spindly tripod stand, hewn roughly of wrought iron. A note hanging from the eye piece says, "To Jazra, I painted this viewer myself. Please take good care of it, your cousin, Isora."
(joined mid-scene, near event start time)
Rilayen watches Jazra setting up the tripod with interest. "Boll, huh? Nice place I'm told. Never been but..." he leaves his thoughts on it at that. "Better than Ista sands? Well, what's best for his job I s'ppose." He looks up at the sky now, as though hoping to get an early glimpse of what will be occuring tonight.
Nolee, blanket in hand, trudges along the path from the bowl, taking her sweet time and meandering along with several other residents. Low voices chatter, hints of 'meteors' and 'not like Thread?' and other murmurs of excitement and interest drift through the air as they slowly approach.
Jazra screws the telescope tripod together just as the sun is going down. "Okay, now would be a good time..." She mutters as she looks up at the sky. Sure enough, the firelizard comes back and, a bugling blue comes in for a landing. Packages are handed down and Isora is there, giving his cousin a hug and then right to work.
A flurry of firelizards warble to a rapidly sinking sun. The earliest stars begin to show, faint ghosts in a purple red and orange tapestry. A faint trace of something streaks its way across the heavens. Or maybe it's just an illusion?
Talking of things coming in to a landing, Marsath backwings to touch down neatly on the plateau, tossing up dirt and dust as the lanky blue touches down. "Is this where the star-watching party is?"
Jazra nods as she points to the first stars coming out. "You bet, check it out. I thought I saw a streak just a few moments ago." Isora is still setting up his viewer. "And the stars are just starting to come out. We'll have a show fit for a Lord Holder in a few moments." Jazra points to the first few stars coming out.
Nolee and her companions pause on the trail, blocking the passage of those aiming to pass until there is enough complaint from behind that they're elbowed into hustling along. "It'll only get dark so fast," one mutters, causing Nolee to laugh. "Wouldn't that be something? If you could make it get dark faster? Oh, we must be here. There's a gathering? And some blue dragons." Nolee: astute, as always.
Weyrfolk, carrying blankets and baskets of munchies file up the path to the plateau, the atmosphere among them one of excitement. Many of the Weryfolk also carry glowbaskets, though these are quickly shielded to make the coming meteor shower and the stars easier to see.
Cynara slips down from the blue. "Good. Marsath wants to see it too." The blue settles down, curling up a little to watch the sky better, getting comfortable. "There any food around here?"
A few of the Weyr's folk arrive in pairs, many with blankets or sandwiches or other business intended for a more relaxed enjoyment of the evening's predicted aerial show. These pairs drift slowly across the plateau in the lowering light, speaking to one another in muted tones, affectionate or excited or about whatever the day's business might have been. Some do not speak at all, but just walk; the Weyrwoman and her 'leader are among those. V'lano carries a thin woven blanket over one arm, a basket tucked in the crook of that elbow; his other arm is at the convenience of Griere at his side.
Jazra sighs. "I couldn't get the kitchen workers to let me take food up." She shrugs. Isora is almost finished putting together the viewer and aligning it. Jazra peers through hers. "Hmmm..." She says thoughtfully as she tries to align it herself. Isora chuckles and pauses to bow politely to Griere and nodding to V'lano before continuing. "Isora can't you make conversation?" Jazra asks. Her cousin blushes shyly. "Star's duties to you ma'm, sir."
The sun becomes a sliver of crimson blood before sinking totally beyond the indigo horizon, into the now midnight mirror that is the ocean. The evening star plays its nightly show, accompanied by the orchestra of a thousand stars, but these are about to be upstaged.
Rilayen looks at Isora when he arrives then at Jazra, looking for family resemblance. "Any idea how long until it's going to get going?" He asks Jazra, lacing his fingers together behind his head and staring up at the sky, unblinking. "Sun's setting." He squints. "Think I saw something." He doesn't sound too sure, though.
Isora checks his viewer one last time and... "Three... two... one..." A long pause. "Come on..." Finally a streak of silver flame falls through the sky. Whether it lands or burns up remains to be seen. But if you blinked, you missed it. "There's one... they start slowly, then build up for awhile, then taper off."
One of the young men behind Nolee, who has a lady of his own at his side, swings a picnic basket at his side. "Don't be greedy, Gabron, pass it on," calls the younger weyrwoman. Another voice, that of a taller brown-haired lass laughs, "Besides, I've heard a rumor that..." but her voice drops, and soon, a sandwich is being passed toward Cynara. "Will that do? It's fresh with a touch of nut in the bread. Very healthy." At which several others giggle softly, Nolee included, though she may not get the joke. "Has it started yet? The stars aiming at us?" Seems she's one who blinked, and missed it.
Griere gives a little nod to Jazra and the starsmith, but her attention is mostly forward and upward, "It looks like it'll be a rather clear night," she points out idly for V'lano. Her lips purse slightly and she gives up on the sky to watch where they're walking instead, trying to avoid the spread blankets of other groups who have come out for the show.
Jazra leans in to whisper to Cynara. "I've got something for you afterwards. Dad heard about you and the baby and sent something special." She says as she points. "There's another one. I wonder if somebody somewhere will find them when they land. I heard the smithcraft pays a dragonload of marks for them, simply because of the quality of metal." She nods at Griere. "Definately." Then Isora pipes up. "Crystal clear! Not a cloud in sight. And according to the calculations I did before I came here, both moons should be full."
"And Ista's welcome to you, sir," V'lano replies to Isora, adding a nod for Jazra; then he tips his head down toward Griere's and murmurs something to his weyrwoman before returning attention to Isora to note, "Don't worry, we'll be out of the way." Dark eyes sparkle and, having said his part, the Weyrleader steps away from the distance viewer and those who seem most interested in borrowing its use, the better to find a quiet spot to spread the blanket and begin unpacking from the basket a little late supper for himself and Griere.
Cynara headshakes. "Wouldn't want to take somebody *else's* food. In fact, got a better idea." She whistles, and from the fairs gathered in the area, a blue and green detach themselves to circle above her head for a moment, then vanish between. "Left something I can have in my weyr."
A silver streak of liquid light shoots briefly through the skies. Its there and gone so fast that if you blink, it's already vanished, a vanguard of the starry splendor just beginning to appear.
A few of the others drift away from Nolee, finding their own spots to watch, and Nolee moves toward Cynara, still with her blanket. It's stretched out and Nolee flops down, then ruefully rubs her backside. "Not as soft as the beach." The duo still with her laugh, and sit more carefully, one receiving the sandwich Cynara's refused as it returns their way. "I'll eat it then," and a blonde boy does so wolfishly. "Ohh, look!" The tall girl near Nolee squeals, "I saw one!"
Isora cheers. "There goes another one." He opens up a bound hide recordbook and starts making notations. "That's..." He mutters. "And... and then..." So low that you can only hear a couple of the words. "Good, caught up on notations." He turns his head back for the sky. "And ma'am. Jazra's mom and dad, my aunt and uncle, sent over some biscuits to munch on. Not as good as say, a bubbly, but they're flaky and buttery. Good stuff." He produces a basket and offers it to the rest of the group.
Cynara /will/ snag a biscuit. And after a moment, her firelizards reappear from between with a basket of fruit held between them, small amounts of frost forming on it from the brief passage of cold.
Jazra smiles as she flops back in the grass and turns to Cynara. "Oh! That's right! Cynara, my parents sent a package early this morning." She hands Cynara a small package carefully wrapped. The material used to wrap it is cheep, but the package is unharmed by its shipping.
Jazra sets down Baby's First Cup. Careful not to spill!
There is a note attached. "Little babies become big toddlers, and toddlers need cups! For Cynara." This cup is made from simple tin, with two child sized handles. Designs of firelizards lacquered in various colors and postures have been painted on the tin and each one has been signed by a different one of Jazra's siblings until the tin his hardly visible. Painted carefully on the inside bottom of the cup is a pair of firelizard pawprints, signed by Jazra's father. Painted along the handles with the delicate hand of an artist, is a climber vine design, going up one handle and down the other.
Griere grins to herself for V'lano's comments, eyes averting downward as she steers the weyrleader around a group with a number of small children. "No here," she murmurs. "Somewhere a bit away from... things that squeal." The kids get a dirty look, and then she forgets them to glance at the sky again. Her hand tightens on V'lano's arm. "Oh! I think I just saw... something. Did you see it? Was that it?"
As if the first falling star had been a signal, the heavens light up with first one, then two more of the bright lights. Falling through the night abyss towards the oblivion of the night sky. Four more follow a few seconds later, trailing pure silver behind them for a few seconds, then they're gone.
Rilayen gapes at the sky's sudden display. "Did'ya see that?" He says loudly to those nearby, not daring to tear his eyes away from the night skies now. "Wow." Could it be that the loud boy's going to be silent for once? "More of 'em!" He sucks in a great breath of air and holds it in his lungs. "Wow." That stunned word slips out as the boy lies back on the grass to watch, transfixed.
When the biscuit basket passes, Nolee helps herself to one, too, as does the blonde boy, who takes more than his share. The tall girl, clearly 'with' him, rolls her eyes. Nolee misses their exchange, busy craning her neck back to better see the sky. After Nolee's left with the basket, she looks around, missing the series of bright lights while she stares at the basket. "Where? Where?" Wanting rid of the biscuits, she passes them toward Rilayen's location, speaking through a bite. "Here, want some? They're not bad, really."
"It's hard to watch for stars," V'lano remarks aside to Griere, low enough that she's the comment's only target though the words -could- perhaps be overheard by those nearby, "when you're all I can see." He flashes her one of those daring sidelong smirks, then spreads out the blanket in the spot she's come to a halt at, far enough from shrieky children that the Weyr's leaders might have a bit of peace to sup and skywatch in. With that part of his burden out of his hands he pauses to look up at last, just in time to see the second group of falling stars, four in number, vanish in the sky. One might get the impression that the Weyrleader shivers a bit; he grins, though, and says, "Did you see those?"
Jazra grins and nods, hands behind her head. It's rare that her grin is that broad. "Told you it was worth it." She says with a grin. She turns to Isora. "How often do these occur?" The Starsmith looks up from the viewer. "They happen once every few turns. Over a seemingly random location. But the equations are simple if you memorize them."
Two weyrmates, sitting at the edge of the plateau, snuggle close. A kiss is exchanged between the two of them, and one falls back into the other's arms, content to just be, as they watch another meteorite flame grace the skies with quicksilver light.
Kaylira
Although tall, and bearing the curves correspondant to her age, Kay still carries hints of her tomboy nature. It's in her canted grey eyes, how they peer out of beneath her blue-black curls and carry a smile, or glints of silver when the moment comes upon her. Or how her care isn't for things like the neatness of her clothes, or that her nails may carry a smudge or two of dirt beneath them. Lightly browned, and well toned, she carries herself with a confidence. No girlish squeals or shy facades for Kay! Instead a brightness of eyes and flash of smile that mark her as comfortable with who and what she is.
Currently Kay sports trous of deep black - soft and durable in nature, perfect for riding duties, even if possibly a little warm for the local climate. Her shirt of creamy brown is short-sleeved for comfort and of a loose weave to keep her cool. On her shoulder she wears an Istan knot, marked out for her lifemate, Brown Pheirth.
Jazra grins. "There's another one." A pair of five turn olds are busy making a rock pile and singing a song, one for each of the meteorites. Isora is busy scratching away at his hide. Jazra snaggs a biscuit and tells Rilayen. "Go ahead and try one of the biscuits. My mom's a great cook!" She points to the basket Nolee has set down. The two Weyrmates get a glance and a crooked twerk of a smile.
Griere wrinkles her nose at V'lano. "That's a line if I ever heard one," she says, scolding him with a sharp jab of her elbow before she releases him to set up their blanket. Leaving him to that job, her attention is skyward again and so she sees the streaks of light that the weyrleader refers to. "Yep!" A strangly easy, almost girlish response from the chilly goldrider. "That's what I saw a moment ago. That must be it. Is it just starting or has it been going on all day and we just couldn't see if because the sky was light?" She settles down on the blanket, legs curled to one side.
Rilayen is taken by surprise by the biscuit basket, but once he's realised what treats are in it he's quick to accept. "Thank you, ma'am," he says, glancing over to see what kind person offered them to him. After helping himself to three he looks to pass the basket on, settling on setting it down for anyone to help themselves after a quick glance around his location. Mm, biscuit. "They sure are good." His grin is somewhat crumb-y thanks to the biscuit he's munching on. "Tell your mum thanks from me, Jazra."
Cynara finds a comfortable position, sprawled against Marsath, and placing the fruit basket where other people can raid it. So...biscuits and fruit. "Wow...so, this is predictable? I wonder where they come from."
Kaylira clambours down from her lifemate and sees to his comfort before searching out a spot for herself to settle and enjoy the show. She nods and smiles as knots and politeness dictates.
Isora speaks up from his notations. "If one occurs during the day time you can't see it because of the sun. The light emitted from their fires is too pale." He replies simply. "They can be seen vaguely during the early morning or evening." He amends.
A young child, only eight turns, sneaks a cookie out of an auntie's basket of food and tiptoes away, giggling. However, he's caught by his mother who makes him turn around and apologize to the auntie. With a cackle the elderly resident gives the boy a second cookie and a pat on the head.
Nolee is seated on a blanket with a few friends and picnic basket, someplace near Cynara and Rilayen, where she munches on a biscuit and now, some fruit as well. "I keep missing them," she murmurs, though Rilayen gets a cheery nod for his helping of biscuits and his words. "Welcome! Tell me if you want a fruit, and I'll roll it over." Then she's looking skyward yet again, hopeful. "Has it really started? I don't see anything."
Jazra grins at the growing crowd. "Wow, so many people." She pokes her eye to the distance viewer. "Hey Isora. I've got a question, not meteor related but curious all the same. The explanation that I got with the distance viewer you sent me said that there were two different types of object in the sky, worlds like ours and stars. How come we can see details of a world but we can't see the details of the stars?"
After a brief 'oof' for the elbow, V'lano solemnly informs Griere, "You're asking the Weyrleader." 'Solemn,' of course, only if solemn may mean that his voice is firm and his mouth is unsmiling, despite the glittering mischief playing in his eyes. "The starsmith's over there." A point back toward Isora, and V'lano bends to place the basket down at his weyrwoman's side, then kneels onto the blanket next to it. He arranges himself carefully there, leaning back on one arm to take a look skyward; but his gaze stays there only so long before his attention sinks to more earthly matters. Glancing over the people gathered, weyrmates and teens, weyrmates and children, riders and crafters and all manner of folk, the Weyrleader just smiles faintly and relaxes into contentment.
Caitlyn arrives from the path leading into the stones of the garden.
Caitlyn
Rich, heavy waves of cool-toned brunette locks curl and ripple thickly - even when restrained by the long braid which finds rest just above the small of Caitlyn's back. A wispy line of smooth bangs sweep across her high forehead from right to left, blending into the luxuriant mane. When the weather gets humid, her carefully groomed mane can be seen to whorl and curl at both the top and ends, causing the woman a certain amount of annoyance when it dares to tickle her high cheekbones or get in her eyes. An open, yet unconsciously seductive oval face is set with heavy-lidded, golden-brown eyes that seem to smile and laugh easily, arching dark brows swept up above them. Her nose is straight and strong, though not large at all, and her jaw is firm, and just a touch on the square side - though fitting very well into her features. Sensual lips of muted rose stand out against her light olive complexion, adding a southern tang to her good looks. The column of her throat is strong and arching, the pulse of her life thudding deeply within.
A simple, yet fine 'v'-necked tunic shirt of muted plum coloration wreathes her torso, the ultra-lightweight fabric allowing breathability as well as freedom of movement, the sleeves reaching to mid bicep - the fabric clinging a bit tighter to a more than ample chest. Her somewhat broad shoulders and arms are big-boned, smooth and strong - muscles defined but subtle - as collarbones sweep down in graceful lines from beneath the hollow of her throat. Dark khaki, well-fitting 'three-quarters' trousers are drawstringed at the waist, following the womanly curves of her hips and legs, ending in khaki-colored sandals that tie around the ankles of her rather large feet.
At her throat is a small, copper 'cage' pendant strung upon a light chain - the cage holding what appears to be a tumbled bead of some purple gemstone - and at her left shoulder is the simple knot of an Apprentice Smith. At her belted hips are various pouches, a small toolbelt with different implements hanging from loops, a sheathed beltknife, and a hide drawpouch.
Anyone who looks at her even a second will also likely notice the lightly scabbed, but well-healing spots that pepper her left cheek and forehead, along with the entirety of her left hand and wrist.
Caitlyn is around 5'2", and seems to be in her early 20's.
Isora replies simply. "We think that it has something to do with the difference in distance away from Pern. The planets are close to us, we can see them through the viewer as an orb, hanging in the sky. The stars are too far away, and the accepted explanation is that they're made of fire. Just like Rukbat. The ramifications are that there might be other worlds in orbit over the stars we see in the viewer."
One of the observers trips over a rock with an oomph, but he quickly gets to his feet, partially unshielding a glow basket to help him find his way. Eventually he finds himself at the edge of the plateau where he whispers to Isora, the starsmith. The Star Crafter shrugs before announcing, "If you want to have a look through the viewer, you may, just don't bump it out of focus."
Caitlyn huffs just a little, having completed her climb to the plateau rather quickly - her face lightly sheened with sweat and oil. "Oh Shards, did I miss..." And here her muttered words cut off as the woman spies the group - and more importantly, the distance viewer. Quietly, she paces close, that curious sparkle in her eyes. Waiting.
Jazra grins and steps back from her own viewer. "The same with mine. I'm sure something will be visible. If we're lucky we might even catch a glimpse of a meteorite through the scope. Hmm... I wonder what that would look like." Isora grins. "A burning rock." Is the reply. "Speaking of which, there's one now!" He points to one moving at a diagonal to the plateau. "It's probably going to land in the ocean." She adds. "But if it makes land it will probably go right into a smith's pockets somewhere. Like Jazra probably emphasized before, the metal in some meteorites is top rate."
It's not long before the weyrleader's looking about draws Griere's attention likewise. Her sweep of the crowd is quicker, and comes to settle, almost warily, on Nolee. It's almost the same look that the little gaggles of children get. She purses her lips thoughtfully watching the junior weyrwoman, and then looks skyward again. "I don't really need to know," Griere tells V'lano. "This is nice." Whether she means the meteors or the crowd or his company is left open to interpretation.
Rilayen shakes his head at the offer of fruit, offering up a, "I'm good with the biscuits, thanks," eyes on the sky as he nibbles a biscuit. "There's one!" he says to Nolee, lifting an arm so as to point out the meteorite moving across the sky. "They're all sort of silvery. They seem to come and go." He comments wistfully. "Pretty, though."
Another child about 5 turns spots a large meteorite headed in a southern direction. It sails in a broad arch miles overhead through the Istan sky leaving a silver bloom before finally going out. The child squeezes her eyes shut tightly and says, eagerly. "Gotta make a wish!" before being scooped up by her rider father and tickled. "Daddy!" She cries happily, wish quickly forgotten.
Nolee leans back, her head resting on the blanket where she can, when her head is tilted back, see Rilayen's worn overlarge shoes. She contemplates these for a time, comparing them to her own stained sandals, and finally decides, "I need new shoes." The 'lecture' explanation from the Starsmith barely reaches her ears, though it sounds enough like work that it lulls her eyes into closing for a long moment. She sits up of a sudden, ignorant of causing Griere ulcers, twisting to see where the slender boy is pointing, and following his gesture with her eyes. "Ohh. I see it!"
Kaylira finds a space not already claimed by others. It hasn't a blanket, but no worries. The brownrider wriggles herself into a comfortable position and cranes her head back to gaze at the sky. Perhaps making her own wishes upon the 'falling stars'.
Caitlyn zeros in on Jazra's words, and her face suddenly widens into an only semi-conspiratorial grin...hoping the she herself might one day come into possession of such a meteorite to fashion into some jewelry piece. Then her thoughts and eyes are reclaimed by the falling 'stars' and the viewers once again, though her mutters of greeting might be heard. "G'deve, all. Once I got word, I ran up here..." She's still standing, probavly looking hopeful.
Jazra grins, munching a biscuit. She makes her way over to Cynara and Nolee and flops down in the grass. "What a lovely end to a great day." She says with a grin. "Mind if I join you two?" She asks as she takes antoher bite. "Hey! Caitlyn right?" She asks. "You can have a look at my viewer if you want." She points to it. "They're adjusted just right." She grins.
The group of people around the distance viewers steadily grows, only pausing to look up when a meteorite is spotted. One, by pure chance, flies through the distance viewer's range, provoking an excited cry from the man at the larger instrument. The man at the viewer jumps, nearly knocking the precious object out of alignment. Luckily, the viewer is missed by a handspan.
"I have a couple of sandwiches. Leftovers, but I think you'll like them." V'lano sounds more smug than sandwiches would normally merit, and after a sidelong check on Griere - her expression gives him cause to check on Nolee himself, but -he- seems to see nothing much amiss in the junior's playful attention to shoes and stars alike - the Weyrleader straightens a bit and gets into the basket he brought. Out come a couple of sandwiches indeed, wrapped in parchment hide, one of which he half-unwraps and hands over for the Weyrwoman. "I'd never have expected so many people to - oops," the latter remark being for the sudden jumpiness around the viewer.
Jazra grins at the reaction from the direction of the viewers. "Yup, what can happen does." She points in the direction of the meteorite that flew through the viewer's range. "What are the odds of that?" She wonders as she works her way through her biscuit. "Can I just say yum?" She wonders as she munches. "And wow too." Munch, munch. "Good food and a good show!" Isora chuckles from the viewer at the normally serious Jazra.
Rilayen gets to his feet with care, trying not to crush the biscuits clasped in his hand. "I wonder what the view's like down on the beach?" He muses aloud, and then he's bumbling towards the trail, finding himself a glowbasket to unshield before he steps on someone.
Caitlyn nods enthusiastically at Jazra's recognition of her, golden-brown eyes widening with barely supressed excitement at the sudden offer of a 'viewer. "Shells, do I *know*!" Cait chuckles. "I was doodling around with one of the bigger viewers at the Hall, and a Mistress harangued me for 5 minutes because I shifted the focus for my own eyes. I'll never forget that." All the time she's talking, the short woman is walking over to the viewer, and goes up on tiptoes to get a long, thoughtful look through the eyepiece. A long, wistful sigh emerges from Caitlyn. "I *adore* looking through these. The stars are lovely."
Nolee and the other two blanket-sitters scoot sideways a tad to make room for a fifth, and Nolee pats the fabric. "Sure! These two share the same space, almost, so there's heaps of room." The pair laugh, and stay snuggled close, while Nolee squints intently upward, hugging her own knees as she sits up, hoping to see more flashes of light. "So the viewer, it lets you see things more up close?"
Many of the younger children are asleep, curled up on the picnic blankets their parents and fosterers have brought. One is leaning against her mother's side. A second is carried back to the caverns and to bed. However, the older children are by no means tired, and several go to join the crowd around Jazra's distance viewer.
Griere's glance seems to have drifted from the sky again, watching the wishing child and he father though narrowed lashes. Mention of sandwiches actually seems to confuse her for a moment and then, "Oh," a smile spreading slowly for V'lano. "That sounds lovely." She takes the sandwich and gives it a sniff, "Which kind do I have here?" If her glance for Nolee was anything more than more than general anxiety, even that is forgotten now.
Cynara hasn't moved in a while, although she doesn't seem to be asleep. Her attention is divided, between the light show in the skies, and the children, the latter watched with some kind of interest.
Jazra lies there, the sweet scent of grass in her nostrils. The night sounds from the rest of the world around her and the sounds of the children laughing. The words. "yay, we get to stay up late!" and "Let's play tag! You're it!" Reach her ears and the light show above is breathtaking. "You know, I'm surprised people don't look up at the stars more often." She says to nobody.
"Leftovers," repeats V'lano, as if there is great significance in it. His eyes sparkle; but he lifts a hand to rub at one temple, leaving his own sandwich upon his knee for a moment while gazing up at the stars. "We should do this more often," he remarks, unaware of his words' near-echoing of a similar sentiment from Jazra several blankets and groups away.
Caitlyn seems to have the basic curiosity of a child, for she sometimes wiggle-bounces on her sandaled feet, only momentarily removing her eye from the 'viewer to rest it, before replacing it and gazing deeply into the firmament. The gamboling of the children seems to drift right through her, so enchanted with the view is the Smith. "Oh-OH! There goes one meteor! Oh Shells, it's incredible... It's more than too bad I can't have two simultaneous sub-Crafts. I'd try and be a Starsmith, too." Murmur-mumble. Cait sems to be talking to herself, just like Jazra.
Kaylira is content to lean back and view the light show in silence.
"This is nice," Nolee observes, her words trailing several others's musings, her question forgotten already. "And it means we get to leave off work early to come sit and do nothing for a while." Always tops with her. The pair sharing her blanket wander toward the viewer, ohhing and ahhing once their turns arrive, and nodding shared amazement with Caitlyn.
The moons begin to rise, Belior and Timor both full and white, bathing the landscape in pale light almost bright enough to read by. The skies are perfectly clear, not a cloud in sight. And the night can show off its beautiful jeweled cloak of stars and midnight tones. The moons bathing the entire plateau with ghostly splendor. The stars, not to be outdone, sparkle as crisply and clearly as tiny crystals, diamonds set into the deep.
Jazra observes another trio of meteorites that sail overhead, and the breathtaking spectacle visible to the entire plateau. "Wow... clear night? Definately. Isora wow..." As if he's responsible for the stars and moons being so clear. More meteorites, streaks of white hot fire one, two, pause, one, pause one two. They're everywhere! And Jazra gasps in delight.
"Have meteor showers?" Griere asks V'lano. "I don't think we have much control over that." For all the flatness of her voice, her eyes to spark with teasing for him, though perhaps that look is just for the mysterious leftovers. "It is a nice sight, though. The stars and everyone out relaxing..." She actually smiles a bit for the lazing, entertained crowds, even with children around.
How long is Caitlyn at the viewer...5, maybe ten minutes? No matter, when someone behind her audibly clears their throat - having waited more than patiently for *their* turn - the woman darts her head back from the eyepiece, looking quite embarrassed. She quickly backs up, relinquishing the viewer, and retreats towards the blanket that Jazra is splayed upon. Looking for approval beore she too splays, Cait hears the other woman's words, puts two and two together, and... "Is that your StarSmith brother, Jaz? He came faster than I thought!"
"Watch the stars," V'lano retorts with a low roll of laughter threatening beneath the rumble of his voice, and for the tease he sees in Griere's eyes he has just a snickery bit of a snort. "Exactly," after she's remarked upon the contentment descended upon the island weyr, and while he slinks his sandwich, unwrapped, back into the basket he notes, "Ista deserves a little rest, don't you think?" The Weyrleader takes another upward look, catches sight of a streak going by and mesmerised, keeps looking to see several more, even as he leans aside to murmur something lower to Griere.
Jazra shakes her head. "Starsmith cousin, and yes. He's the one. My other brothers are regular smiths, with glass and metal respectfully. Then I've got a weaver and a harper in the family, plus E'zil and a couple of beastcrafters. And the last one was searched for High Reaches but never made it. So he's a resident now. Plus mom's a tanner and like I said dad's a glass smith. It's just a huuuuuge family." She points to the skies. "There's another one... wow, that was long." Isora grins and makes an arch motion with his hands. "And headed Northward. Bet some sweeprider Telgar or Igen ways finds it tomorrow morning."
The starsmith's companion yawns sleepily. He's not the only one. Those yawns are contagious, for several residents and riders yawn as well and drag themselves off to bed. Still other people stay on, unable to tear their eyes from the stars. The silver/white fires of the sky occasionally lighting up part of the raven depths.
Nolee, now that her two companions have usurped Caitlyn's place at the viewer, has room on her blanket for more, so over she slides to make space for the Smith. "Pass another fruit?" She looks hopefully toward Jazra, gesturing to Cynara's basket. "I'm awfully thirsty, and the fruit helps." A glance back toward the Viewer, and a squint. "That must be very handy! Jewelry and useful things. Oh, my Pop makes glass, too. Messy, sharp job." Her hands, reaching out for the fruit, are evidence enough of how she'd spent her childhood, tinged with small scars.
Griere leans in, tipping her curly head to listen to V'lano's quiet murmur. She pauses, glances around and nods. "Alright." she says, moving to stand. She looks again at the sky. "It has been lovely, but my neck is starting to hurt. Still, it's too bad we don't have more excuses to have everyone out on the plateau like this." She offers her hand to him, though surely the slight weyrwoman can't be much help for the man.
Jazra nods. "Yeah, if you're not careful the cullet glass will cut." She shudders, but hands the fruit to Nolee, taking one for herself. "I get perks. Dad likes to lavish me with glass doodads. He sent me a pendant when he found out I'd been accepted to Ista as a resident, even though he knows that I don't wear jewelry unless its a special occasion. Jewelry gets snapped by talons or claws, or worse, caught on it. I heard, actually, that similarly candidates don't wear jewelry on the sands. Because a dragonet might get caught on it? I haven't been to an actual hatching, so I wouldn't know." She shrugs.
Cynara finally speaks up. "I believe the tradition is that jewelry might distract the hatchlings, increasing the risk of somebody being bowled over by one, which often results in injuries. But some of these things *are* just tradition and there's *nothing* wrong with that."
"Whoops, cousin then. Jays, you're a family of Crafters, allright!" A slight, mock-condescending sniff is given to Jazra as Caitlyn grins. "As if *Jewelry*-smithing is regular." A look at Nolee, and Caitlyn murmurs, "Oh thanks, Nolee, I was wanting to settle my butt down after that climb..." And the Smith wanders over towards the weyrwoman's blanket, to plop down and splay out with a grand view of the sky overhead. Cait can't help but overhear Jazra, and nods her agreement. "Jewelry for everyday wearing has to be durable and not dangly. Or you have to be cognizant of it, if it is."
V'lano pushes himself up on one hand and leans forward to plant a swift peck of a kiss on Griere's extended fingers, then gets himself up from the blanket, no need for the woman's dubious assistance. He takes up the blanket and basket, folding the former over the latter upon his arm, and offers the weyrwoman -his- hand now. "Maybe we'll invent some excuses. And next time we'll bring something to rest your neck on. Pillows for everyone." That last bit is a little louder, grinned in the general direction of a young woman who is plainly rubbing a crick out of her neck even as she continues to watch the sky. "We'll have a nice walk back," he half-asks Griere, prepared to let her lead them off.
Content to curl up in their dragon's arms, a pair of riders snuggle up with each other. Their dragons exchange amused rumbles before lying down themselves. Their multifaceted eyes glitter in the dark before they are first lidded. Within minutes the two dragons and their riders become the picture of peaceful slumber.
Nolee wrinkles her nose. "I don't know why. I always thought it was just part of the rules?" The rationale has escaped her, though she nods to Cynara's words. "Hmm. My pop never sends me stuff. Maybe I can appeal to yours instead." She laughs, "Though, I always lose jewelry, so maybe I'm better without." A welcome smile's given to Caitlyn, and as her companions wander off, Nolee rises, rubbing her backside and balancing the fruit. "Feel free to keep it? The blanket? It came from stores." Then the lazy girl doesn't have to carry it back. "Maybe I'll go for some water or something after all. Thank you for having your cousin bring that thing, and share it with us."
Jazra sighs, contentedly munching fruit, still wide awake. "Yeah, and the pressure's on for all of them to rise to as high a rank as possible. You know how it is. Every parent wants their child to be up there in life, whether the kid is content with it or not. I've seen it happen with some of the locals whose parents want them to work with my dad as possible apprentices. The parents want it to happen and the kids don't care." She shakes her head.
At last, there is one last sky bloom of liquid fire as the last white flamed meteorite falls and disappears. There is a long, long moment before the Starsmith finally says. "By my calculations, that is a wrap." Dusting off his hands. "I am leaving my distance viewer up for the next sevenday if anyone wants to look through it. It will take that long for me to finish sorting the notes I took tonight. If you need me, there's a spare room at the Sandbar that I'm staying at." And with that he makes his way down the path to the Weyr. Though he leaves, the stars shine on, the night sky as clear as glass, as though they hadn't been ripped asunder by fire just a few moments before.
Caitlyn is utterly happy with her company and her view, this night. "I'll bring it back to stores," she mutters to Nolee, smiling up at the goldrider. "Come to me for your jewelry, if you want to," Cait adds. Shameless plug.
Kaylira smiles at the interchanges going on. She seems somewhat distracted. When one is a rider, that's an occupational hazard.
"Ugh, pressure from your parents is almost as bad as pressure from Gree-r," Nolee agrees, locating a basket of glows to prevent certain doom on the return path. "Ohh, I'll pass that on, about the watcher-thing being up still. And thanks, about the blanket. I might do just that--if I can decide on a decorative piece I could actually wear. My, I can't believe all the stars falling. Amazing any of them stay up at all." After a headshake, she adds, "Have a good night!" A smile and a clumsy curtsy, then Nolee's off, munching on her bit of fruit.
"Ah, the dratted rank-jumping thing," Caitlyn murmurs in Jazra's direction. "Makes me glad I don't have much of a family. I don't care for *that* kind of competition. Oh, thank you so much for the shy show, StarSmith! I enjoyed it utterly," the woman adds to Jaz's cousin.