Log: In which Taikrin goes to the gather - part 1
Date: Day 12, Month 5, Turn 26 of Interval 10
Summary: Taikrin crashes the Gather, does her part to brainwash Nathalia, then runs away again.
NorCon MUSH - 7/31/2011
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Orchards, High Reaches Hold
Sheltered from the winds while still open to the sunlight, High Reaches Hold's orchards provide ordered row after ordered row of carefully cultivated fruit trees. Even here, inland from the main hold, the faint tang of salt is recognisable in the air, mingling with sweeter scents from the fruit; on fine days, this can be a pleasant spot indeed to spend a few hours.
Today, the spaces between the trees have been filled to overflowing with tents and tables, as craftsmen of all kinds take to the outdoors to sell their wares. Although the dancing and most of the music is set up in the courtyards outside the main hold, the sound of merriment is still audible amidst the bustle of shoppers and salesmen, as are the mingled aromas of food and drink.
Contents:
Nathalia
Rhaelyn
Obvious exits:
Courtyard
Ah, weyr-hold-craft relations have reached a new level. Rhaelyn utters a soft laugh at Nathalia's insults, or maybe it's the color that Ylynna is turning. No one could ever claim that Rhae cared much for anyone's feelings save her own right? "Don't you know who I am?" Ylynna asks from between her teeth. It's a smile, but a tight one, all teeth, "How -dare- you, you little bucket of tripe." There's a group of holders around Ylynna and Rhaelyn. The exile girl is dressed up in a glamorous red evening gown with jewels in her ears and in her pinned up hair. There's a side-show atmosphere as they have been gawking at the well-groomed exile on display, that is until the flinging of insults. "Nathalia...." Rhaelyn's voice is quiet, amused, but full of warning. Maybe it's too late for that though, the holders don't look too happy.
From Taikrin's wind-reddened cheeks, she hasn't been long at the gather. But at least she's groomed for it, more or less: well-tailored black leather pants, softer than a rider's usual fair, and a snug-fitting cream shirt of some sort of shimmery fabric. She /even/ had her hair freshly cut. She hasn't picked up much yet from the gather, aside from a cup of wine, when the sounds of a ruckus attracts her like a fly to honey. Just one more person to gawk, even if she's got rather more of a smirk on than most of them.
Nat just grins, probably more fun than she's had in months, considering how well behaved she's been. "No but let me take a wild guess, some supposedly privlaged holder brat who will likely as not be married off to promptly produce little bastards." There's an almost roar of a laugh. How dare she indeed. "Direct your complaints to the Smith Hall, though likely as not they will tell you the same thing I just did." And with a secret grin to Rhaelyn, the smith sets off to find something a little stronger than Klah to drink. Spotting Taikrin, there's a small frown but a friendly enough wave as she orders a mug of beer.
Lujayn heads in from High Reaches Hold.
Lujayn has arrived.
Ylynna gives Rhaelyn a look of warning, "Your pretty things can be taken away as quickly as they were 'given'." It's enough to make Rhae's shoulders tighten and her amusement fade. "That's right. Good girl." A few of the holders have thinned from the group though, lacking the stomach for any violence that is surely brewing. To Nathalia, Ylynna answers back with pompous retort, "I am Lady Highreaches niece! And a candidate. I'll be getting that gold dragon. You mark my words girlie-girl. And--and--you're a -Candidate-. I'm going to speak with the weyrleader about you running off with that mouth in front of all these fine hold people." The grin is pleased. Yes, she'll get nat in trouble! Meanwhile Rhae just stands there, arms crossing over her bejewed bodice front as a few other gather-goers sneak closer to peer at the exile.
A sardonic grin quirks Taikrin's lips at the rant from 'The Niece of High Reaches', though she doesn't linger. Rather, she cuts over to saunter towards Nathalia, drawing beside the girl with both eyebrows raised. "Y'know," she remarks conversationally, "Generally, it ain't considered good form for candidates to be rilin' up the hosts, even if the hosts are overbred and rude. She knocks back wine as if it were whiskey, then adds, "/Especially/ if you got t'share a barracks with 'em tonight. Never know when a girl like that's gonna get someone t'shank you in your sleep."
If the Smith catches the discourse between Rhaelyn and Ylynna it doesn't show on her features, though something clearly clicks in her head. Obviously finished with the Holder brat. She just shrugs. "Give Lady High Reaches my fondest regards, and by all means tell the Weyrleader. Unlike some I actually enjoy hard work." With that the gaggle of holders is ignored in favor of her beer and Taikrin. The smith looks up at the brownrider with a grin. "Yeah I suppose I will be scrubbing the latrines tomorrow, but shards and shells it will be worth it." In a quiter voice there's a small laugh. "Shanked? Hardly, I doubt there's anyone with the brass to do it. Well Rhaelyn might. . ." There's a laugh. "Some things though are just as simple as right and wrong, and nobody, not even Rhae deserves to be talked to like that."
Lujayn drifts along in the crowds of the gather, making tired small talk here and there with no inkling that the larger tide of curious ears is sweeping her towards a building conflict. It's more the tone and volume that catch her attention than the words themselves, and Lu strikes out on her own path to hedge at the quarrelers' heels. "Shells, what /is/ the matter here?" A glance to Taikrin as tiredness flares into irritation at the whole lot - can't she keep these girls in line? At least Nathalia looks removed. "Duties to your hold," She introduces herself abruptly to Ylynna. "Lujayn of gold Rielsath." She can't bring herself to make more scathing comments, but her gray eyes hold stormclouds. "It sounds like you'll be joining us soon? Congratulations."
Ylynna flicks a sharp 'shoo' flick of fingers after Nathila and makes sure she's not going to come back before turning back to Rhae. "Stop fussing. Unfold your arms." A quick adjustment of her dress and the side-show continues with a few new additions drifting past. "Lets see, where were we? Ah yes, as you can see, they are quite harmless." The contrast of the heated smith-candidate and the domesticated Rhaelyn makes a few of the holders murmur their agreement. "But maybe she simply doesn't understand." An older man suggests as he comes closer to get a better look. "Certainly looks healthy enough for a bag of bones. Do they have all their teeth?" Instead of answering the questions about the exiles, Ylynna must preen before the Highreaches rider, "Oh, Goldrider Lujayn." Pretty dimples for the lady, "I'm Ylynna." She doens't introduce Rhaelyn. "I've had the pleasure of your hospitality for a few weeks now. But it's so nice to visit home."
"Sure seems to me you got a thing for wanting t'be scrubbing latrines. You got some kinda weird fetish or something?" Taikrin is probably joking: nobody's smirk can be that insufferable while still maintaining a semblance of seriousness. "Anyways, in my experience it don't take much balls at all to go after some poor, sleeping sap. And, well... y'never know." A shoulder rises in a shrug, idly. "Good on you to be lookin' out for her, I guess, but I reckon you probably want to look out for yourself, more. Doubt her sort is gonna appreciate you stickin' your neck out." She twists to glance over her shoulder at the Rhaelyn/Ylynna spectacle, seems about to protest, but then notices Lujayn and subsides. To Nathalia, "There, Lujayn's got it all in hand now. Don't you worry none."
Elgin heads in from High Reaches Hold.
Elgin has arrived.
Nat laughs, "Nah no fetishes honest, I just figure no matter what I do I get into mischief anyway, may as well be preemptive about the chores that usually follow." She shrugs. There's a thoughtful expression for the comment. "Well between you and me I don't sleep much these days anyway." She follows Taikrin's glance to the now preening spectacle. "I suppose, but your right, she won't appreciate it. She's just as likely to spit venom at me for it. It isn't like I expected a thank you or anything for it either." She studies the brownrider thoughtfuly. "Is that what you do Taikrin? Look after yourself?" there's no accusation and certainly no venom. Just a mild tone and a curiosity in her eyes. "I expect that will be another gold rider I have now /not/ endeared myself too. This is becoming a bad habit."
Bag of bones? Teeth? "Thank you sir, we're very well," As if the man had been asking after their health and not sizing someone up like a runner. Lujayn's tone is clearly a dismissal to the crowd, turning her back on them. Lujayn is familiar with Rhaelyn, perhaps not personally but certainly enough so that she steps closer to the other girl. "You're not on display," Speaking directly to Rhae before hissing through her teeth to the preening git Ylynna. "I'm sure I don't have to remind you that as a candidate you're to respect all members of the Weyr. Why don't you find some dear old friend to visit? I daresay they've missed your charming ways." Heavy on the sarcasm.
"Better sleep now," Taikrin declares in no uncertain terms. "You end up with a dragon, you ain't gonna be sleepin' much the first month or two. Kinda like babies, wantin' to be fed and play and be oiled at all kinds o dumb hours." Nathalia's question draws the brownrider's full attention for likely the first time all conversation; though there's still the ghost of amusement sketched onto her face, there's something serious and measuring in the way her dark eyes lock onto the candidate's. "Look after me /and/ Szadath," she clarifies. "And the people who matter. And the ones what can't take care of themselves. And the hatchlings. Y'know, someone's got to do it." She doesn't turn to look back at Lujayn, but there is a temporary gravity shift as her attention pings over then back. "And /how/ can you not get on with Teris and Tiriana? They're easy."
Ylynna's fine show is slipping through her fingers. She makes a click sound of her teeth as the goldrider comes between herself and the exile-show. "She doens't mind it. Do you Rhaelyn?" It's a last grasp to keep the exile in her clutches for the attention it'll gain her. For a moment Rhaelyn is really stuck, side with the rider, or with the girl who made the bargain with her? "I didn't know that borrowing the dress and things was going to cut into so much gather time." The exile allows and looks to Lujayn, wary but thankful for chance to chew her leg out of the trap.
Elgin strides into the orchards to escape the noise from the courtyard, or at least as much as he can. This is his first trip out of the weyr since the exiles rescued and the usually confident boy is looking a little wary himself. His eyes dart between tables and tents but for the most part he is scanning the crowd for people he knows. Rhaelyn is spotted and he moves towards that group, "Hey Rhae..." His voice trailing off as the goldrider is given a salute. "Goldrider..."
Nat seems thoughtful. "Really? Hadn't thought of that. It's very different I guess, then again no guarantees that anybody impresses." Nat just meets those dark eyes unflinchingly but a smile works its way over her lips at the riders response. "The hatchlings and the ones who can't look after themselves. . ." She echoes as though confirming something, measuring Taikrin with that look. "Someone does, and usually it is a pretty thankless job." She agrees finally. "Well I haven't met Tiriana, but Teris seemed to take everything I said in the most offensive manner possible." She notes with a sigh, pulling a long drain from her mug. She does let her attention float back for a moment, but it returns back to the brown rider.
"This dress?" Lujayn finally notices that people tend to wear clothes. "We'll have it returned in good order by the end of the day, Ylynna. But I'd be happy to escort you to the Weyr if you'd rather have it back." An unpleasant threat, that: chores weighed against a good party. Elgin's arrival is the perfect excuse for the goldrider to ignore Miss-Highreaches-Niece, neatly excluding her from the new trio. "Let me know if you need anything," As an aside to Rhaelyn before the other candidate comes close enough to hear. She relaxes just a bit, a smile clearing through those storm-filled eyes. "Afternoon. Elgin, isn't it?"
/That/ little bit about Teris prompts a guffaw of laughter and a clap to Nathalia's shoulder with Taikrin's free hand. "That /does/ sound like Teris," she admits ruefully. "Don't /you/ take it personal. She's having a hard time, lately." She dumps the last of the wine down her throat, then draws the back of her hand across her mouth. A thought suddenly dawns, because she peers at Nathalia's mug with pursed lips. "Hey, you supposed to be drinkin' that? Or is it just weyrlings that ain't allowed? Don't know as I can remember the rules, but I know I remember /somethin'/ like that." Her expression melts away to reveal a lopsided grin. "Worst time of my life, I reckon, havin' to go dry."
Ylynna huffs a few empty, "But...it's too late. She's altered it. Ruined it." Ruined everything for the end of Ylynna's gather it seems. "I'll see -you- back at the weyr Rhaelyn." The voice is kind, the look is not. She brushes by Elgin with an elbow and off she goes to rejoin her friends, making no bones about dishing some dirt about how poorly the weyr is treating her after her 'kindness' to the savages. "Well, at least I don't have to say 'Weyr' again to them." Yes, she has an accent. Yes, the way she speaks is 'old and formal'. "Thank you. I think." And to Elgin she flashes a little smile, fixing the front of her bodice again, even with the alterations it swims on her.
Nat just smiles. "What has been going on with her Any how? Seems like a lot of folks have been extra prickly." She notes quietly. As her drink is spotted there is a blush from the crafter. "Just not supposed to get drunk I think, wait. . . you have to go /dry/ if you impress?" Clearly the thought had never occurred to her.
Elgin isn't sure what he walked into but he doesn't seem surprised when the stranger brushes passed him, though he does wince slightly at the elbow, instead a raised eyebrow and a grin is shot in Rhaelyn's direction, before his attention to turns to the goldrider, "Yes ma'am. It is Elgin. Is everyone enjoying the gather?" His gaze flickers back to Rhaelyn as she adjusts the dress, "Beautiful dress, Rhaelyn." Then he pauses thoughtfully, "Who was that?" Indicating the girl that stormed off a minute ago.
Lujayn hasn't had her question answered, either; she doesn't press Rhaelyn for any explanation just yet. "Supposedly one of your fellow candidates," The woman watches to make sure Ylynna loses herself in the crowd before giving her full attention to the other two. "Thought so - I'm Lujayn. I think we can make a day of it as long as the rain stays off. You're enjoying yourself too?"
"Ain't my place to go into it," Taikrin brushes off Nathalia's question about Teris, instead choosing to go on about the woes of a weyrling's life. "For, like, a /turn/. 'Cause the hatchlings are in your head, and I reckon they don't /understand/ about why your mind is getting all weird, y'know? You could really flip them out, and then, well, awful things could happen. They get okay with it, when they get older and they can understand more." She wiggles her emtpy wine cup at Nathalia in mute testament. "But until then? Nothing. Not even a /sip/. Terrible."
"That was Ylynna." Supplying a name for Elgin on the heels of Lujayn's answer. It's a better time to answer the question once the other girl is off with her friends, "Yes, this dress, and the one I wore yesterday. The deal was, dresses for the gather and I'd spend some time meeting her friends." She shrugs a little, "That is how the weyr does things. Trade for goods with actions." Not a question. As for how she's enjoying it, there's a little shrug of her shoulders, "There are a lot of people." But fun? Perhaps not.
Nathalia responds "Shards and shells," The smith breathes horrified at the thought. "And I thought candidacy was bad." She sighs, listening to the testament of weyrlinghood with apt attention. "What's it like, having Szad in your head? I mean, does having him make up for all the chores and what not?" She seems thoughtful.
"It is a new experience, and one I am grateful to be having but a little loud." Elgin's tone is light and he offers a smile to the goldrider; a smile which promptly falls at Rhaelyn's comment. He studies her quietly for a moment, "Rhae - Just becareful with all that. It doesn't always work out well." Exhibit A. "You do look good in it though." He turns Lujayn and shrugs softly, "There are so many people sleeping in the barracks I couldn't tell you if someone belonged in them or not."
"Chores? Like, candidate chores?" Apparently that question is funny too, because Taikrin is guffawing again. "They never really were a thing. I'm used to way harder work, y'know? Reckon you'd be, too." But her gaze goes distant when she ponders Szadath and her bond, and she's quiet a moment before giving a noncommital shrug. "Hard to remember not havin' him in my head, t'be honest. Feels like he's always been there, like he's-- I mean, he's a part of me. And I'm a part of him." She pauses, then lets out another laugh to dismiss the sober thought. "It sounds weirder than it is, when it gets put like that."
"Goods as in tithes for a Weyr's protection, sure, but dresses for.. that?" Lujayn's lip curls in distaste, not particularly convinced. "That's taking it to extremes." She adds quietly in agreement with Elgin's cautionary words. "A beautiful dress for a beautiful girl, right?" Sensing the lack of enthusiasm, she tries to stir some cheer into the air. "Have you gotten a chance to look at any of the booths? Sometimes hanging out with the crafters is more fun than rubbing elbows with holder snobs."
Rhaelyn beams at Elgin's compliment, "Well, then it's worth letting some of those mainlanders have a look at me then." At least she can put a good spin on things. "And, Ylynna said that it might make the holders have my sympathy for us exiles, if they could see us and know we were...'safe'." She lifts up her shoulders, "It seemed like a good idea at the time." And no one could accuse Rhae of not having exile benefits first in her thoughts--after herself. "I had some time last evening to look, oh and and there was the dress-booth--that was amazing." Slowly remembering the better parts of her outing. "I heard they were showing off some fancy livestock too, but couldn't get free to see what the fuss was about."
Nathalia offers a thoughtful nod. "I suppose that's true, what did you do before you impressed?" She asks mildly, before the conversation turns to lifemates. "I've thought so much about it lately, and I still can't fathom it." She notes with a laugh. "Weird maybe, but it makes sense, I think it would be nice to have that kind of a bond. One 'person' who always has your back you know?"
"Oh, you know. Bit of this and that. I'm mine-bred, y'know." Taikrin flashes her free hand at Nathalia, wiggling fingers that bear the stereotypiacl traceries of thin white scars. "There's nothin' else like it. Better'n running with a crew, better'n your best girl, better'n-- well. Anything else. So you better sleep more and worry about Rhaelyn less; dragons like a well-rested candidate." She pauses, then adds with a bit of exasperation, "Hey, listen, you ain't seen Riorde around, have you? Island-girl, 'bout my height, dark hair? Been lookin' for her, and Szad says she's /here/ but he won't tell me where."
"Know we are safe by wearing dresses?" Elgin seems skeptical at best, and he crosses his arms, "Though it would be nice if some people would stop treating us like we have a disease they might catch. - Just not sure renting yourself for someone to show their friends is the best way to go about it." He stops short of saying she whored herself out. "There is a whole booth of dresses?" He grins slightly, "I wonder if there is one for robes, the thought of having to sew a white robe doesn't sound all that appealing."
Nathalia grins. "Mine bred huh? Remind me to buy you a drink sometime. If it weren't for the mines I wouldn't have any marks at all to spend." At mention of Rhaelyn she just sorta shrugs. "Not really worried about her, and yeah I suppose I can try and sleep, but night time here is just so shelling interesting." The girls brows pull together a moment at mention of the Island woman. "No I haven't but. . . how does Szad know she's here? Did he spot her?"
"They'll get there." Lujayn stops the stop-short, sensitive. "It's not their approval that'll get you anywhere, either. Just as long as you do what you're comfortable with, it's no one's business." She grins, still trying to smooth things over. "We'll supply you some old robes and you can fix them up if you want. Doesn't take a master weaver to sew up a tear," Reassuring Elgin, "But they probably have non-candidate robes, something more like cloaks or jackets. But it never hurts to be prepared, there's a good idea."
"Happy to get a drink, while you're still allowed," Taikrin agrees distractedly. She's scanning over the crowds again, her forehead wrinkling. "Can sense her. They can feel the minds of people they're familiar with, sometimes, sort of-- I ain't explainin' it right. But he knows she's around, somewhere. I really oughta-- be good, okay? Don't go lettin' the holders rile you up?" Because just like that, she's offering a wave to Nathalia and diving back into the crowd.
Summary: Taikrin crashes the Gather, does her part to brainwash Nathalia, then runs away again.
NorCon MUSH - 7/31/2011
-----------------------
Orchards, High Reaches Hold
Sheltered from the winds while still open to the sunlight, High Reaches Hold's orchards provide ordered row after ordered row of carefully cultivated fruit trees. Even here, inland from the main hold, the faint tang of salt is recognisable in the air, mingling with sweeter scents from the fruit; on fine days, this can be a pleasant spot indeed to spend a few hours.
Today, the spaces between the trees have been filled to overflowing with tents and tables, as craftsmen of all kinds take to the outdoors to sell their wares. Although the dancing and most of the music is set up in the courtyards outside the main hold, the sound of merriment is still audible amidst the bustle of shoppers and salesmen, as are the mingled aromas of food and drink.
Contents:
Nathalia
Rhaelyn
Obvious exits:
Courtyard
Ah, weyr-hold-craft relations have reached a new level. Rhaelyn utters a soft laugh at Nathalia's insults, or maybe it's the color that Ylynna is turning. No one could ever claim that Rhae cared much for anyone's feelings save her own right? "Don't you know who I am?" Ylynna asks from between her teeth. It's a smile, but a tight one, all teeth, "How -dare- you, you little bucket of tripe." There's a group of holders around Ylynna and Rhaelyn. The exile girl is dressed up in a glamorous red evening gown with jewels in her ears and in her pinned up hair. There's a side-show atmosphere as they have been gawking at the well-groomed exile on display, that is until the flinging of insults. "Nathalia...." Rhaelyn's voice is quiet, amused, but full of warning. Maybe it's too late for that though, the holders don't look too happy.
From Taikrin's wind-reddened cheeks, she hasn't been long at the gather. But at least she's groomed for it, more or less: well-tailored black leather pants, softer than a rider's usual fair, and a snug-fitting cream shirt of some sort of shimmery fabric. She /even/ had her hair freshly cut. She hasn't picked up much yet from the gather, aside from a cup of wine, when the sounds of a ruckus attracts her like a fly to honey. Just one more person to gawk, even if she's got rather more of a smirk on than most of them.
Nat just grins, probably more fun than she's had in months, considering how well behaved she's been. "No but let me take a wild guess, some supposedly privlaged holder brat who will likely as not be married off to promptly produce little bastards." There's an almost roar of a laugh. How dare she indeed. "Direct your complaints to the Smith Hall, though likely as not they will tell you the same thing I just did." And with a secret grin to Rhaelyn, the smith sets off to find something a little stronger than Klah to drink. Spotting Taikrin, there's a small frown but a friendly enough wave as she orders a mug of beer.
Lujayn heads in from High Reaches Hold.
Lujayn has arrived.
Ylynna gives Rhaelyn a look of warning, "Your pretty things can be taken away as quickly as they were 'given'." It's enough to make Rhae's shoulders tighten and her amusement fade. "That's right. Good girl." A few of the holders have thinned from the group though, lacking the stomach for any violence that is surely brewing. To Nathalia, Ylynna answers back with pompous retort, "I am Lady Highreaches niece! And a candidate. I'll be getting that gold dragon. You mark my words girlie-girl. And--and--you're a -Candidate-. I'm going to speak with the weyrleader about you running off with that mouth in front of all these fine hold people." The grin is pleased. Yes, she'll get nat in trouble! Meanwhile Rhae just stands there, arms crossing over her bejewed bodice front as a few other gather-goers sneak closer to peer at the exile.
A sardonic grin quirks Taikrin's lips at the rant from 'The Niece of High Reaches', though she doesn't linger. Rather, she cuts over to saunter towards Nathalia, drawing beside the girl with both eyebrows raised. "Y'know," she remarks conversationally, "Generally, it ain't considered good form for candidates to be rilin' up the hosts, even if the hosts are overbred and rude. She knocks back wine as if it were whiskey, then adds, "/Especially/ if you got t'share a barracks with 'em tonight. Never know when a girl like that's gonna get someone t'shank you in your sleep."
If the Smith catches the discourse between Rhaelyn and Ylynna it doesn't show on her features, though something clearly clicks in her head. Obviously finished with the Holder brat. She just shrugs. "Give Lady High Reaches my fondest regards, and by all means tell the Weyrleader. Unlike some I actually enjoy hard work." With that the gaggle of holders is ignored in favor of her beer and Taikrin. The smith looks up at the brownrider with a grin. "Yeah I suppose I will be scrubbing the latrines tomorrow, but shards and shells it will be worth it." In a quiter voice there's a small laugh. "Shanked? Hardly, I doubt there's anyone with the brass to do it. Well Rhaelyn might. . ." There's a laugh. "Some things though are just as simple as right and wrong, and nobody, not even Rhae deserves to be talked to like that."
Lujayn drifts along in the crowds of the gather, making tired small talk here and there with no inkling that the larger tide of curious ears is sweeping her towards a building conflict. It's more the tone and volume that catch her attention than the words themselves, and Lu strikes out on her own path to hedge at the quarrelers' heels. "Shells, what /is/ the matter here?" A glance to Taikrin as tiredness flares into irritation at the whole lot - can't she keep these girls in line? At least Nathalia looks removed. "Duties to your hold," She introduces herself abruptly to Ylynna. "Lujayn of gold Rielsath." She can't bring herself to make more scathing comments, but her gray eyes hold stormclouds. "It sounds like you'll be joining us soon? Congratulations."
Ylynna flicks a sharp 'shoo' flick of fingers after Nathila and makes sure she's not going to come back before turning back to Rhae. "Stop fussing. Unfold your arms." A quick adjustment of her dress and the side-show continues with a few new additions drifting past. "Lets see, where were we? Ah yes, as you can see, they are quite harmless." The contrast of the heated smith-candidate and the domesticated Rhaelyn makes a few of the holders murmur their agreement. "But maybe she simply doesn't understand." An older man suggests as he comes closer to get a better look. "Certainly looks healthy enough for a bag of bones. Do they have all their teeth?" Instead of answering the questions about the exiles, Ylynna must preen before the Highreaches rider, "Oh, Goldrider Lujayn." Pretty dimples for the lady, "I'm Ylynna." She doens't introduce Rhaelyn. "I've had the pleasure of your hospitality for a few weeks now. But it's so nice to visit home."
"Sure seems to me you got a thing for wanting t'be scrubbing latrines. You got some kinda weird fetish or something?" Taikrin is probably joking: nobody's smirk can be that insufferable while still maintaining a semblance of seriousness. "Anyways, in my experience it don't take much balls at all to go after some poor, sleeping sap. And, well... y'never know." A shoulder rises in a shrug, idly. "Good on you to be lookin' out for her, I guess, but I reckon you probably want to look out for yourself, more. Doubt her sort is gonna appreciate you stickin' your neck out." She twists to glance over her shoulder at the Rhaelyn/Ylynna spectacle, seems about to protest, but then notices Lujayn and subsides. To Nathalia, "There, Lujayn's got it all in hand now. Don't you worry none."
Elgin heads in from High Reaches Hold.
Elgin has arrived.
Nat laughs, "Nah no fetishes honest, I just figure no matter what I do I get into mischief anyway, may as well be preemptive about the chores that usually follow." She shrugs. There's a thoughtful expression for the comment. "Well between you and me I don't sleep much these days anyway." She follows Taikrin's glance to the now preening spectacle. "I suppose, but your right, she won't appreciate it. She's just as likely to spit venom at me for it. It isn't like I expected a thank you or anything for it either." She studies the brownrider thoughtfuly. "Is that what you do Taikrin? Look after yourself?" there's no accusation and certainly no venom. Just a mild tone and a curiosity in her eyes. "I expect that will be another gold rider I have now /not/ endeared myself too. This is becoming a bad habit."
Bag of bones? Teeth? "Thank you sir, we're very well," As if the man had been asking after their health and not sizing someone up like a runner. Lujayn's tone is clearly a dismissal to the crowd, turning her back on them. Lujayn is familiar with Rhaelyn, perhaps not personally but certainly enough so that she steps closer to the other girl. "You're not on display," Speaking directly to Rhae before hissing through her teeth to the preening git Ylynna. "I'm sure I don't have to remind you that as a candidate you're to respect all members of the Weyr. Why don't you find some dear old friend to visit? I daresay they've missed your charming ways." Heavy on the sarcasm.
"Better sleep now," Taikrin declares in no uncertain terms. "You end up with a dragon, you ain't gonna be sleepin' much the first month or two. Kinda like babies, wantin' to be fed and play and be oiled at all kinds o dumb hours." Nathalia's question draws the brownrider's full attention for likely the first time all conversation; though there's still the ghost of amusement sketched onto her face, there's something serious and measuring in the way her dark eyes lock onto the candidate's. "Look after me /and/ Szadath," she clarifies. "And the people who matter. And the ones what can't take care of themselves. And the hatchlings. Y'know, someone's got to do it." She doesn't turn to look back at Lujayn, but there is a temporary gravity shift as her attention pings over then back. "And /how/ can you not get on with Teris and Tiriana? They're easy."
Ylynna's fine show is slipping through her fingers. She makes a click sound of her teeth as the goldrider comes between herself and the exile-show. "She doens't mind it. Do you Rhaelyn?" It's a last grasp to keep the exile in her clutches for the attention it'll gain her. For a moment Rhaelyn is really stuck, side with the rider, or with the girl who made the bargain with her? "I didn't know that borrowing the dress and things was going to cut into so much gather time." The exile allows and looks to Lujayn, wary but thankful for chance to chew her leg out of the trap.
Elgin strides into the orchards to escape the noise from the courtyard, or at least as much as he can. This is his first trip out of the weyr since the exiles rescued and the usually confident boy is looking a little wary himself. His eyes dart between tables and tents but for the most part he is scanning the crowd for people he knows. Rhaelyn is spotted and he moves towards that group, "Hey Rhae..." His voice trailing off as the goldrider is given a salute. "Goldrider..."
Nat seems thoughtful. "Really? Hadn't thought of that. It's very different I guess, then again no guarantees that anybody impresses." Nat just meets those dark eyes unflinchingly but a smile works its way over her lips at the riders response. "The hatchlings and the ones who can't look after themselves. . ." She echoes as though confirming something, measuring Taikrin with that look. "Someone does, and usually it is a pretty thankless job." She agrees finally. "Well I haven't met Tiriana, but Teris seemed to take everything I said in the most offensive manner possible." She notes with a sigh, pulling a long drain from her mug. She does let her attention float back for a moment, but it returns back to the brown rider.
"This dress?" Lujayn finally notices that people tend to wear clothes. "We'll have it returned in good order by the end of the day, Ylynna. But I'd be happy to escort you to the Weyr if you'd rather have it back." An unpleasant threat, that: chores weighed against a good party. Elgin's arrival is the perfect excuse for the goldrider to ignore Miss-Highreaches-Niece, neatly excluding her from the new trio. "Let me know if you need anything," As an aside to Rhaelyn before the other candidate comes close enough to hear. She relaxes just a bit, a smile clearing through those storm-filled eyes. "Afternoon. Elgin, isn't it?"
/That/ little bit about Teris prompts a guffaw of laughter and a clap to Nathalia's shoulder with Taikrin's free hand. "That /does/ sound like Teris," she admits ruefully. "Don't /you/ take it personal. She's having a hard time, lately." She dumps the last of the wine down her throat, then draws the back of her hand across her mouth. A thought suddenly dawns, because she peers at Nathalia's mug with pursed lips. "Hey, you supposed to be drinkin' that? Or is it just weyrlings that ain't allowed? Don't know as I can remember the rules, but I know I remember /somethin'/ like that." Her expression melts away to reveal a lopsided grin. "Worst time of my life, I reckon, havin' to go dry."
Ylynna huffs a few empty, "But...it's too late. She's altered it. Ruined it." Ruined everything for the end of Ylynna's gather it seems. "I'll see -you- back at the weyr Rhaelyn." The voice is kind, the look is not. She brushes by Elgin with an elbow and off she goes to rejoin her friends, making no bones about dishing some dirt about how poorly the weyr is treating her after her 'kindness' to the savages. "Well, at least I don't have to say 'Weyr' again to them." Yes, she has an accent. Yes, the way she speaks is 'old and formal'. "Thank you. I think." And to Elgin she flashes a little smile, fixing the front of her bodice again, even with the alterations it swims on her.
Nat just smiles. "What has been going on with her Any how? Seems like a lot of folks have been extra prickly." She notes quietly. As her drink is spotted there is a blush from the crafter. "Just not supposed to get drunk I think, wait. . . you have to go /dry/ if you impress?" Clearly the thought had never occurred to her.
Elgin isn't sure what he walked into but he doesn't seem surprised when the stranger brushes passed him, though he does wince slightly at the elbow, instead a raised eyebrow and a grin is shot in Rhaelyn's direction, before his attention to turns to the goldrider, "Yes ma'am. It is Elgin. Is everyone enjoying the gather?" His gaze flickers back to Rhaelyn as she adjusts the dress, "Beautiful dress, Rhaelyn." Then he pauses thoughtfully, "Who was that?" Indicating the girl that stormed off a minute ago.
Lujayn hasn't had her question answered, either; she doesn't press Rhaelyn for any explanation just yet. "Supposedly one of your fellow candidates," The woman watches to make sure Ylynna loses herself in the crowd before giving her full attention to the other two. "Thought so - I'm Lujayn. I think we can make a day of it as long as the rain stays off. You're enjoying yourself too?"
"Ain't my place to go into it," Taikrin brushes off Nathalia's question about Teris, instead choosing to go on about the woes of a weyrling's life. "For, like, a /turn/. 'Cause the hatchlings are in your head, and I reckon they don't /understand/ about why your mind is getting all weird, y'know? You could really flip them out, and then, well, awful things could happen. They get okay with it, when they get older and they can understand more." She wiggles her emtpy wine cup at Nathalia in mute testament. "But until then? Nothing. Not even a /sip/. Terrible."
"That was Ylynna." Supplying a name for Elgin on the heels of Lujayn's answer. It's a better time to answer the question once the other girl is off with her friends, "Yes, this dress, and the one I wore yesterday. The deal was, dresses for the gather and I'd spend some time meeting her friends." She shrugs a little, "That is how the weyr does things. Trade for goods with actions." Not a question. As for how she's enjoying it, there's a little shrug of her shoulders, "There are a lot of people." But fun? Perhaps not.
Nathalia responds "Shards and shells," The smith breathes horrified at the thought. "And I thought candidacy was bad." She sighs, listening to the testament of weyrlinghood with apt attention. "What's it like, having Szad in your head? I mean, does having him make up for all the chores and what not?" She seems thoughtful.
"It is a new experience, and one I am grateful to be having but a little loud." Elgin's tone is light and he offers a smile to the goldrider; a smile which promptly falls at Rhaelyn's comment. He studies her quietly for a moment, "Rhae - Just becareful with all that. It doesn't always work out well." Exhibit A. "You do look good in it though." He turns Lujayn and shrugs softly, "There are so many people sleeping in the barracks I couldn't tell you if someone belonged in them or not."
"Chores? Like, candidate chores?" Apparently that question is funny too, because Taikrin is guffawing again. "They never really were a thing. I'm used to way harder work, y'know? Reckon you'd be, too." But her gaze goes distant when she ponders Szadath and her bond, and she's quiet a moment before giving a noncommital shrug. "Hard to remember not havin' him in my head, t'be honest. Feels like he's always been there, like he's-- I mean, he's a part of me. And I'm a part of him." She pauses, then lets out another laugh to dismiss the sober thought. "It sounds weirder than it is, when it gets put like that."
"Goods as in tithes for a Weyr's protection, sure, but dresses for.. that?" Lujayn's lip curls in distaste, not particularly convinced. "That's taking it to extremes." She adds quietly in agreement with Elgin's cautionary words. "A beautiful dress for a beautiful girl, right?" Sensing the lack of enthusiasm, she tries to stir some cheer into the air. "Have you gotten a chance to look at any of the booths? Sometimes hanging out with the crafters is more fun than rubbing elbows with holder snobs."
Rhaelyn beams at Elgin's compliment, "Well, then it's worth letting some of those mainlanders have a look at me then." At least she can put a good spin on things. "And, Ylynna said that it might make the holders have my sympathy for us exiles, if they could see us and know we were...'safe'." She lifts up her shoulders, "It seemed like a good idea at the time." And no one could accuse Rhae of not having exile benefits first in her thoughts--after herself. "I had some time last evening to look, oh and and there was the dress-booth--that was amazing." Slowly remembering the better parts of her outing. "I heard they were showing off some fancy livestock too, but couldn't get free to see what the fuss was about."
Nathalia offers a thoughtful nod. "I suppose that's true, what did you do before you impressed?" She asks mildly, before the conversation turns to lifemates. "I've thought so much about it lately, and I still can't fathom it." She notes with a laugh. "Weird maybe, but it makes sense, I think it would be nice to have that kind of a bond. One 'person' who always has your back you know?"
"Oh, you know. Bit of this and that. I'm mine-bred, y'know." Taikrin flashes her free hand at Nathalia, wiggling fingers that bear the stereotypiacl traceries of thin white scars. "There's nothin' else like it. Better'n running with a crew, better'n your best girl, better'n-- well. Anything else. So you better sleep more and worry about Rhaelyn less; dragons like a well-rested candidate." She pauses, then adds with a bit of exasperation, "Hey, listen, you ain't seen Riorde around, have you? Island-girl, 'bout my height, dark hair? Been lookin' for her, and Szad says she's /here/ but he won't tell me where."
"Know we are safe by wearing dresses?" Elgin seems skeptical at best, and he crosses his arms, "Though it would be nice if some people would stop treating us like we have a disease they might catch. - Just not sure renting yourself for someone to show their friends is the best way to go about it." He stops short of saying she whored herself out. "There is a whole booth of dresses?" He grins slightly, "I wonder if there is one for robes, the thought of having to sew a white robe doesn't sound all that appealing."
Nathalia grins. "Mine bred huh? Remind me to buy you a drink sometime. If it weren't for the mines I wouldn't have any marks at all to spend." At mention of Rhaelyn she just sorta shrugs. "Not really worried about her, and yeah I suppose I can try and sleep, but night time here is just so shelling interesting." The girls brows pull together a moment at mention of the Island woman. "No I haven't but. . . how does Szad know she's here? Did he spot her?"
"They'll get there." Lujayn stops the stop-short, sensitive. "It's not their approval that'll get you anywhere, either. Just as long as you do what you're comfortable with, it's no one's business." She grins, still trying to smooth things over. "We'll supply you some old robes and you can fix them up if you want. Doesn't take a master weaver to sew up a tear," Reassuring Elgin, "But they probably have non-candidate robes, something more like cloaks or jackets. But it never hurts to be prepared, there's a good idea."
"Happy to get a drink, while you're still allowed," Taikrin agrees distractedly. She's scanning over the crowds again, her forehead wrinkling. "Can sense her. They can feel the minds of people they're familiar with, sometimes, sort of-- I ain't explainin' it right. But he knows she's around, somewhere. I really oughta-- be good, okay? Don't go lettin' the holders rile you up?" Because just like that, she's offering a wave to Nathalia and diving back into the crowd.