[Log] You're Asking Me to Dance?
Who: Adele, Ailani, Breena, Brijana, Daerin, K'ran, R'dur, Reanna, Sesheta, Tarien, T'bay, Yasmin
When: Unknown
Where: Living Cavern, Telgar Weyr
What: Brijana is nice to Reanna when Telgar hosts a dinner for its candidates.
Telgar Weyr's Living Cavern
This huge cavern is sufficiently roomy to hold a large portion of the Weyr's population without feeling cramped. There's always a bustle of activity here. Fragrant dishes are constantly in prepartion for mealtimes: currently for the late meal. Drudges are always present, either cleaning under Pierron's watchful eye, or helping fetch and carry. A myriad of glowbaskets and many ever-lit hearths make the cavern warm and inviting despite its size. The scents of cooking meats, baking breads and pastries, and the pungent aroma of spices hang mouthwateringly in the air. It is little wonder that those seeking to relax nearly always find their way here to do it. Dark summer blooms of vivid hue decorate the tables.
A short tunnel jaunts northward out to the bowl and the merry sounds of cooking, chores, and laughter echo from the kitchen at the southeast end of the cavern near the easterly passage to the rest of the lower caverns. Within the lower caverns is an entrance to the infirmary weyr to care for injured dragons and riders.
Contents:
PLAYERS: Adele Sesheta Yasmin Breena Brijana R'dur Pierron T'bay Ailani Reanna Daerin
OTHER: Telgar Serving Tables
Obvious Exits:
Inner Caverns Kitchen Bowl
Brijana adjusts her skirts, careful in her layering of the lace and then sinks back. Munching at a slender stalk of asparagus, twirling it whenever the mood strikes her (mostly while she's chewing), she uses it as a pointing device to Reanna and her eye-catching attire. "What's with the hat?" she asks, having caught a few of the looks that passed between former harper and the harmless flirt at her side. "And what's with the blush?" The stalk of green turns in mock accusation to Ailani. "Oh, I don't know, instead of burying you, we could just bury him."
Sesheta quirks an eyebrow at Daerin's invitation, though she does get up after a fashion and picks her way through a knot of people to arrive at a table that's near the one that the candidates are at. "This is as close as I get, darlin'.", is drawled to the young man, though she offers nothing more. No, this Bitran seems perfectly content to settle back and listen to the conversation, her mouth pulled into a slow, sly smirk that comes all too naturally to her.
Ailani either doesn't realize who just sat down, or she just doesn't care, but she and her cohort in stables grin widely. The response is well practiced and delivered in perfect harmony: "But it's more fun that way." The blush returns as Brijana sits, and she shrugs. "Just, um, didn't really want the pastry-stealing to be public knowledge, you know? They'll be watching for me now." Just as she's about to take another bite, Yasmin's and Brijana's comments sink in, for which she bites back a snicker. "That could be fun."
T'bay overhears Yasmin, as his meanderings down the food line have taken him closer to her location, and he halts dead in his tracks to stare, then laugh in his trademark guffaw, at her words. "Bury me, in dragon dung. Priceless!" he murmurs, hushing a moment and turning full toward them with a plate in one hand, his other on his hip, clearly ready to take affront and having figured Brijana's comment about burying a 'him' was meant for himself. Finding it wasn't, he closes his open mouth, and turns slowly back around, returning his attention to his food.
Reanna eyes the Wingleader for his two-word explanation, as though less than satisfied. However, she doesn't bother to repress the light snort that accompanies his pun. "Good excuse to give your wingriders, I guess." Then, "That takes all the fun out of it," she explains patiently to Breena, having drifted along in that direction, primarily with an eye on Sesheta. "A bubbly doesn't taste half so sweet unless it's snitched from under the watchful eyes of half a dozen bakers." Her entire expression takes a turn for the worse when she's targeted by a twirling asparagus. "Hat? Oh, you mean this. What, you don't think it compliments my, erm, dress?" Not that anything /could/ compliment the baggy bit of wardrobe.
Somewhat late, R'dur makes up for it by being particularly well-dressed as he slips into the living cavern. His wardrobe has taken a upgrading recently, and it shows in his nice new clothes. Despite his finery, however, he seems unwilling to draw attention to himself as he scoots along the wall. He aims for Brijana's group when he sees her, donning a slow, sheepish smile.
Daerin looks over at Reanna. The young man shakes his head a bit. "Maybe she just likes hats." He offers helpfully in a slightly thoughtful tone. He then smiles at Shea. "It is good to have you somewhat join us. It wouldn't be proper if I hadn't invited you to share a table with us." Daerin smiles. he then tucks into his food so that no one will ask him any more questions. The young man brushes his unbound silver hair out of his face occasionally as he devotes most of his attention to his overflowing plate.
Her tone hushed, Yasmin says to the nearby Candidates, "At least she's not crawling around on the floor," and then blushes furiously herself as she catches herself in the gossip. Unbecoming behavior. Better to chew, which gives one time to think before speaking. "I don't see the point of stealing food," she finally adds. "There's plenty of it right here. It isn't as though we're apt to starve anytime soon!"
After the last of the candidates and some of the first group of others make their way through the line, Adele nudges herself into it somewhere in the middle, no mind that there're others behind her. "Have to make sure the spices and flavors're still up to snuff," she explains it away, as she fills a plate then moves to settle herself at a table that's close to the one where the Bitran now sits. The discussion of pilfering goodies from the kitchen is either unheard or disregarded. Either way, the older woman has a smile for those seated near her, content herself to remain quiet as well for now. Surely, the gossip will flow later.
Belatedly, Breena eyes Ailani's attire, brow furrowed. "Hmm, didn't get the message?" She glances curiously between Sesheta and Daerin, but that's the extent of her curiosity. Then, turning a glance up and down the tables full of candidates, the Weyrlingmaster muses aloud to no one in particular, "I wonder if I ought to do what High Reaches does and make them all shave their heads after they Impress."
Bri flashes the arriving Bitran a bright smile, the half-finished stalk of asparagus used, this time, as a little wiggle of welcome. "The other tables are positively dowdy compared to us," she remarks. "After all, this is the candidate dinner." Never mind there are candidates scattered around other tables as well. "You're looking splendid, ma-'am." Her last word splits funny, a brow quirking in dismay at Breena's suggestion, and a hand lifts to pat her tightly bound hair, reassurance that her hair is still, indeed, there. "Number five hundred fifteen of what they don't tell you when you agree to Stand," she murmurs lowly for the benefit of the candidates close by. R'dur's arrival isn't noted, so intent is Bri on being a social butterfly. "There's something to be said about pilfering something," she muses aloud to Yasmin around the final mouthful of asparagus, "Tt's like you somehow earned it, besides chores, or just duties to the Weyr. It's the illicitness that's exciting. The, you shouldn't be doing that, part. A bubbly stolen is worth more than five bubblies bought."
Sesheta takes a sip of wine, then tilts the glass in Daerin's direction in a vague gesture. "Oh, now, sugar, I would have been just as happy watching all of you from where I was.", she drawls with that smile of hers. "But I /do/ appreciate your invitation. It certainly was unexpected to see so many of your fellow candidates in a single place." Reanna's looks aren't entirely missed, nor Adele's arrival at a table that's conveniently close to her own. Her dark gaze flicks between the two, then to Bri, a soft chuckle escaping the woman. "Darlin', you can call me Shea. Ma'am makes me feel so /awfully/ old."
T'bay tugs his own finery down as it attempts to crawl upward during a particularly long reach across the table for a sticky bun, and he lifts his unoccupied yet sticky hand to his nose to wriggle his fingers there, poor Reanna's getting no further details. His movement down the table results in his plate being filled, and he's quick to dispatch some of its contents, snickering to Breena, "You should! Makes a good induction to Thunderbolt, too. Or a change of rank in Thunderbolt. Always cause for celebration, right R'dur?" Seems even the mice cannot escape detection.
Rubbing the back of his neck as he stops nearby, R'dur offers Brijana a bemused smile. "Is that an admission of guilt?" he inquires innocently of her, quirking a brow. "You look--" But he only shakes his head, smile brightening as he takes in her dress. Then: "Ah, sir. Yes, sir," he agrees quickly, eyes sliding to T'bay. He takes in Reanna as well in that gaze, and offers her a very tiny half-smile and a nod before giving attention back to Brijana..
Yasmin's fingers go to her own hair, fancy though it is not. "I'm not sure I'd like that, being bald. It seems as though it would be... cold, in the winter," she says carefully. "Anyway, I'd rather earn it the old-fashioned way. Know that I did something good to have it, even if I don't have much." She grins at Brijana, then nods politely to R'dur as the brownrider comes by, noting him with a little hand-gesture for Brijana's sake before the poor girl ignores her beau for too much longer.
Though it's slow to come, and almost against her will if the hesitancy is anything to judge by, Reanna spares a grateful glance for Daerin. No conversation accompanies it, though; the relief that the hat topic has been dropped is quite enough. "'S exactly what I meant to--" she begins in answer to the philosophy behind bubbly theft, in Brijana's general direction, before realizing to whom she's speaking. The statement cuts off, and to fill the sudden gap she answers Breena, "Oh, I wouldn't mind a bit." A pair of dark eyes alight with a thought, and she slips in nearer to the Weyrlingmaster for a hushed inquiry. "In fact, would it be a problem if I shaved my hair /now/?" While awaiting a reply, the Harper lass bounces back R'dur's half-smile, a shade wider even.
Ailani's not only a healthy eater, especially for her size, but she's a quick one - already more than half the food on her plate is gone by the time Breena's question turns her way. "Mmm," she replies evasively, "didn't have anything to wear." Which is the flimsiest of flimsy excuses, what with the Headwoman sitting so close, and other Candidates dressed in borrowed finery - such as it is. Though she looks unbothered by the prospect of a shaved head, she does nod in commisseration with Brijana's lowly murmured comment. "Too right."
Daerin chokes somewhat on his food as he hears the words 'Impress' and 'shaved heads' in the same sentence. The young man turning a very serious shade of pale. He has hardly even come to terms with the cutting of hair if he Impresses much less a shaved head. If Daerin gets much paler, he mught turn somewhat transparent. Daerin grabs for his mug of klah to wash down the offending piece of food. "Shaved?" He asks, fear in his tone.
Brijana's smile, generally warm when it's there, turns radiant at the voice behind her. Her attempts to school it into something less overjoyed fail, and instead, ends up looking goofily over her shoulder at the brownrider. "Ah, that's for me to know, and you to find out later. But unfortunately, it's not about me." Having done her duties to the vegetable branch of good eating, though there's still much left on her plate, Bri lifts one pastry and then another, waving it around to tempt R'dur nearer. Rare agreements deserve a double take, and that's exactly what Reanna gets, before, bewilderment still lingering there for the world imploding event, Bri tilts her head towards Ailani, "Do you mind scooting over a little bit?" Daerin has her other side, and there might be just enough space to squeeze a skinny as rails brownrider in, maybe.
"That's what hats are for," Breena oh so helpfully says to Yasmin. Her focus shifts to Reanna, to whom she gives a bemused glance. "That's up to you, but do make sure that it's *your own hair* you're shaving, mind." She shoots a look at Adele then, before taking in Daerin's reaction with no small amount of amusement. "Well. There's no thread falling anymore, sure, but long hair can still be a liability with flamethrowers and fire-breathing dragons around."
T'bay shrugs. "It grows back pretty quickly, and you learn to wear knit caps in the cold. 'S a good reminder to wear the helmet, too." He cracks his knuckles against his hip, balancing the plate as a delicate treasure in his free hand. "I'd even help if you needed it, Breena. It'd be a good way to make them less attached to their..." a glance to Daerin is wicked and pleased, "vanity." R'dur's given a cheerful grin around a big mouthful of tasty sticky bun, and after he's swallowed most of it in one bite, "Got a new job for you, old friend." Aw, how quickly R'dur moves up the pole.
"Sure." Ailani's reply to Brijana comes after she's already started scooting, and she elbows the boy next to her. "She's not going to bite you," is hissed in an undertone which, perhaps on purpose, carries farther than it really has to - and is certainly enough for the Weyrlingmaster, the 'she' in question, to hear. Daerin's reaction noted, she remarks, deadpan, "Maybe that's even better than the dragon dung thing."
"Then when it grows out again it's in your eyes and you have to fuss over it all the time," Yasmin points out idly between bites as she finishes off her plate and then eyes the empty dish thoughtfully. "Though I suppose I could adjust. My mother already thinks my hair is scandalous as it is--she's always just pinned hers up." Blinking, she looks at Daerin, then shakes her head. "Maybe for him. If one of us did it, he'd be rapturing over the elegant shape of our heads."
Pastry does indeed tempt R'dur closer, or maybe it's just to impart his next words, quietly, for just Brijana's ears: "I talked to her." Then, with another smile, he scans her dress again. "It's beautiful, by the way. Was this my turnday present, then?" he asks her, quirking a questioning brow. He turns a smile on T'bay next, as he slides into the space between Ailani and Brijana. He sits quite close to the latter, but perhaps he just doesn't want to crowd the other candidate. At any rate, he tells T'bay, "Sir?" That 'old friend' definitely receives a skeptical look, but R'dur doesn't comment.
Daerin runs his fingers through his long silver hair, not in a vain action, but seeming to comfort himself. "We could always braid our hair...or do something else with it." He offers in a somewhat hopeful, somewhat fearful tone. The young man goes silent once more, though he is not so intrested in his food now. His plate still only half eaten. Daerin listening to the chatter around him, but not engaging in it.
A slow and thoughtful nod is all there is to indicate Reanna's agreement with Breena's terms for hair alteration, before the candidate is leaning over toward Ailani to voice support for flexible banquet clothing styles. "There's no way you would've caught me in this, if everything I owned hadn't smelled of fish. The assistant wouldn't even lend me a pair a trousers, would you believe it, until after tonight." She herself has gotten through very little of the food on the plate before her, but now that she's not drawing any attention from Daerin or Brijana, there's time to catch up.
"Long hair's not great during kitchen chores, either," Adele tacks on with an amused grin, reaching to twist the ends of her brown hair as if she's had experience with related problems. The ample headwoman has made quick work of her plate of food, though she seems to have foregone the pastries for now. Her gaze falls briefly on the pair of Bri and R'dur, noting their closeness with a clearing of her throat. As for the nearby Bitran, the headwoman gestures to her plate then back to the serving table. "Have more, there's plenty of goodies to go around this evening," she winks.
For Ailani's troubles, Brijana has another smile, and scoots her plate over a bit closer, pushing it past R'dur. It's still awfully unbalanced in sweets and the flaky, sweetened pastries. "Have some." The smile freezes, and Bri steals a look to the hat-ridden Reanna, but doesn't comment on that situation. "No, but isn't it gorgeous." She preens, and then, remembering manners, gestures, "Ailani, R'dur. R'dur hopes to get me in vast amounts of trouble someday soon with the coordinators, and Ailani's a master thief in the making." A slow, sly and shy grin crosses over to the petite brunette. "If we were closer in height, I'd have had a dress you could wear." T'bay and R'dur's conversation garners a fleeting look, that flicker of guilt in her eyes as sienna passes over the formidable wingleader, and quickly back to the other candidates.
"You *could*," Breena says to Daerin, nodding. "But that doesn't mean I'd let you. I might let you just cut it short, rather than shaving it all off completely. They're right, too, you know--it does grow back." She grins over at Adele again, nodding once more. "I just don't get the attachment, it's only hair." To prove that she heard that hissed comment, too, she beams a smile at the boy who's scooted up next to her. "She's right, I won't bite you."
T'bay watches R'dur get closer and closer to Brijana, and he does his best not to allow his hackles to rise: he's far too chipper to be nasty this evening, on their special day. Even if -she- is one of them. He banishes the wrinkled brow, and dons a bright grin to his wingsecond. "I've need of a few words with you, not now of course, as it's their celebration. But soon." Another wink, and he's off to consume the tidbits on his plate, putting distance between the brownrider and his candidate-ladyfriend with a chuckle still on his lips.
R'dur gives Adele a deer-in-the-headlights look, then blushes and ducks his head. He does edge a scant few inches away from Brijana, at least. "It is gorgeous," he agrees with her, nodding quickly. "You look beautiful." Blushing again, he takes a great amount of interest in the plate passing in front of him. "I heard," he remarks to T'bay, "about the... Well, what happened at--at Fort. Ah. Congratulations, sir. And--and of course. Anytime you like, sir." He nods quickly, smile fading somewhat until his wingleader exits.
Plate emptied and dinner dutifully finished, Yasmin finally pushes herself away from the table to walk back to the buffet table and secure one of these famous pastries--just one, looking almost lonesome on her plate as she comes back. She cuts into it with knife and fork. "Hair pins do okay at keeping it out of the way. I've never liked having to brush any more than this," she says, with another touch to the cropped ends of her ponytail. "Once you have it up, you can usually get it to stay, if you try hard enough. I used to do my mother's hair for her, sometimes." Her voice takes on a wistful edge.
Daerin stands, picking up his half eaten plate of food. The plate still looks full though he has eaten most of it. the young mane gives those around him a dashing smile. "I am afraid that I must take my leave now, though I hate to part with such lovely company." The young man says in a quiet tone. "I must off to finish some of the chores that I slacked off on earlier." Though Daerin has never really slacked on his chores, there is a first time for anything. "If you will pardon me..." He then picks up his mug and heads to take both tray and mug into the kitchens.
Ailani's quick smile for Reanna is all sympathy, but she's distracted from a comment by Brijana's introduction and offer. Her smile and greeting of, "Well met," for the brownrider are cheerful - and thankfully foodless. After a wide-eyed stare, she manages a reply. "Master thief, that I like, the dress, *that* I am not so sure about. I like my clothes," she adds defensively.
Daerin dissappears into the kitchen with mug and plate in his hands
"Are you sure?" Brijana can't help but sound dubious to Ailani, and while she gives up one of the pastries to R'dur, the other is gnawed on along the edges. "I mean, everyone could always use a good wardrobe makeover. And if you got something in some sleek black colors, stealing bubblies could be done all the more easier, or nice beiges to blend in with the walls." Dreamily, she considers the rather gray walls. "Or slate, I mean. The both of you," she finally concludes, looking to Reanna again. It might be R'dur's influence, or a general alignment of all things wacky, but the expression the harper receives is cautiously friendly, more in tune with their initial meeting rather than the subsequent ones.
Daerin walks off towards the kitchen.
Daerin has left.
Sesheta seems to have been a bit /too/ engrossed in listening and watching, as she seems to have entirely missed Adele's suggestion to get more food. The Bitran blinks a few times, drawing out of her reverie, and offers a bright smile to the other woman. "I shall, in due time, ah-", she trails off, unsure of the woman's name, but continuing nonetheless. "Do you recommend anything in particular, perchance?" She drawls, her fingers lacing together atop the table, and her head inclined toward the headwoman.
"Nice to meet you," R'dur tells Ailani then. "And--Brijana has good taste in clothes." He smooths at his own shirt then, smile sheepish. Reaching for the pastry, he nibbles at its edge. Only when Brijana hails Reanna does he glance up, blinking quickly. But he shortly relaxes, smile growing again. "Just so long as I don't have to fund their makeovers, too," he teases Brijana. "It's a good thing I've been saving marks all my life." He doesn't sound at all put-out however.
T'bay keeps scooting until he's made his exit, carrying a conspicuous plate of food in his hand. He offers quite 'g'night's' and praises for the meal and the mostly-decked-out candidates here and there, then really sets into his meal, propriety abandoned, once he's clear.
K'ran walks in from the bowl.
K'ran has arrived.
K'ran's apparently accustomed to Pierron's lizard glare, and returns a wry non-smile as he notes, "Your face's going to freeze like that, one day." But then he's unfastening his jacket -- presumably closed against the evening's chill -- and stepping closer to the hearth. "Evening."
Tarien walks in from the bowl.
Tarien has arrived.
Hesitation is Reanna's byword today, as she demonstrates yet more vacillation in her decision to respond to Brijana's surprisingly unhostile overture. After prolonged and unnecessary contemplation of a handful of fingerroots and some side sauce, she at last raises her gaze to consider the offer. "Now, normally I'd say no," the Trader girl begins in answer, almost self-consciously affirming her lack of desire to have anything to do with fashion. She glances left and right, then scoots forward a mite on her seat to engender conversation that isn't necessarily overheard by half the table. "But, erm, you don't happen to work with hair at all, do you? And I could use some new tunics and trousers. Nothing fancy, mind." That last is uttered with something of distrust, and a meaningful glance to the fluffery of Bri's own dress.
T'bay walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
T'bay has left.
Breena waves after Daerin and pats her own long haired up-do unapologetically. "I didn't mean to ruin his appetite. Guess he's a bit more attached to it than I thought." She grins again at the boy next to her before she gets to her feet, finally making her way toward the banquet table. "Evening, sir!"
"I do *not* wear dresses." Ailani's reply for Brijana is firm, edging on grumpy, but with a smile in an attempt to lessen any offense that might be taken. That smile's fixed on R'dur next, with an appreciative nod for the other girl's dress, "She does, but that thing'd get dirty or ripped or ruined if I so much as looked at it cross-eyed, and besides, all that... that... floofy stuff, it just gets in the way."
"Just about everything's good," Adele responds to the black-haired woman, before hefting herself out of her seat and discovering just for herself what pastries are tasty. She collects several and places them on a plate, then seats herself again. The plate is deposited on the table, toward the center, meant to be communal so that others won't have to get up. She helps herself to one of them, a puffy piece covered with icing and colored swirls on the top. "Help yourself," she nudges the plate closer to a few riders leaning in and watching the pastries.
K'ran is, rather predictably, wrinkled-nosed for the 'sir' part of Breena's greeting, and perhaps out of spite snaps her a crisp salute and returns a snappy, "Weyrlingmaster," by way of answer. Softer-toned, he muses, "Looks like quite the spread. Have they all eaten already?"
"You think I only wear dresses?" Brijana glances down, suddenly self-conscious for her attire. "I have a pair of trousers and a tunic that might fit you well. It doesn't smell like fish," the latter is said with a decidedly unremorseful smirk. "It'll tide you over until we can find something more likely in stores and I've spent so much time there that I know where some of the," she looks around shiftily, pausing at Adele and lowering her voice conspiratorially, "Nicer things are that might fit you. Maybe even some of the male shirts since I'm not sure girly tunics are your thing. And, Rishka taught me how _not_ to cut hair a long time ago." The Weyrleader's arrival is noticed due to Breena's greeting. "Now there's a man that knows how to dress." Despite Adele's eyes that might venture her way again, she leans in cozily next to R'dur.
R'dur beams at Reanna, thrilled at her response. Common ground, yes! He fixes the same bright smile on Ailani as well. "Of course, of course. This isn't everyday stuff," he remarks, shaking his head and giving one of Brijana's sleeves an affectionate tug. "I'm sure she could find something more appropriate." He has utter confidence in her abilities, though his expression flickers somewhat worriedly as she leans against him. He doesn't move away, however, and only directs one mildly guilty expression at Adele.
Sesheta hesitates at the sight of the pastries, her eyebrows quirking upward. "They all look delectable, I must say.", she notes, fingers wiggling uncertainly above the plate before she plucks a sugar-glazed turnover from the pile of confections. "Thank you kindly.", she drawls after taking a bite and 'mmm'ing with pleasure at the sugary treat. "The name's Sesheta, but I prefer Shea.", is offered as an introductory afterthought, along with a pleasant smile.
Breena is as unapologetic about her greeting for the Weyrleader as for her teasing of Daerin of the silver hair. Even Tarien isn't spared. "Evening to you, too, ma'am. Yes, they've all eaten--thank Adele for the food, though, all that work's hers."
Red-cheeked with the transition between hot, cool, and warm, Tarien smiles warmly at Pierron on her way to join K'ran. "Indrath's got his work cut out for him tonight," she murmurs, soft. "My fault -- I mentioned that we'd have to be letting them come down for egg touchings, soon. Breena," she stresses the Weyrlingmaster's name, "you *do* remember our arrangement, do you not?" Turning her attention to the Candidates, she merely watches from a distance, smiling.
K'ran forces a smile through a grimace at Tarien's news, and laments, "I'll be hearing about this, I imagine," with a helpless shrug. Nevertheless, he affords the Weyrwoman space in line, and offers her an empty plate to fill. "The rumor is that we should be thanking our Headwoman for this feast."
A laugh that's easier than one Reanna's permitted herself all evening answers Ailani's complaints about dresses. "You think /that/ floofy stuff gets in the way? Try this." She pulls up her sleeves, which have fallen from her shoulders for the umpteenth time, for greater effect, and then tugs the bodice upwards a few notches, too. "At least back at the Hall, they'd get ya something serviceable for the occasional fancy dinner. Here, it's like everyone has a grudge against a body." The candidate says this without any hint of irony. Bri and R'dur's joint cheeriness inspires a yet more comfortable reaction to the former. "Good, good. That's exactly the kind of things I need. Maybe tomorrow early, before I have to be about chores," and before her unnamed tormentors come up with some new twist on revenge, "we could spend some time investigating stores."
Brow creased, Ailani's quick to shake her head for Brijana's question, guiltily. "No - no, sorry, I thought you meant just for tonight, because you said you had a dress if I were taller. Anyway, that's part of the reason I don't wear them," she admits, wry. "Me and my short legs - and besides, the runners'd get caught up in them all the time, and..." Pausing mid-stream of words at an elbow from her neighbor, she blushes, stammers an apology to Brijana, and a quiet word of thanks to said elbower.
R'dur just beams, having no words for this amazing break-through. "That's wonderful," he notes at last, grinning at Ailani, Reanna, and Brijana in turn. He finishes his pastry at last, no more nibbling around the edges. "You'll have to show us the new looks, then."
Brijana, startled once more, eyes Reanna with considerable less suspicion than before, and then slants Ailani a grin. "Well, I did mean a dress for you, there are times when dressing up is needed," she comments, diplomatic in her ensuing appraisal of Ailani's dinner attire. "Formal occasions and stuff, and dressing up doesn't always have to be dresses, I suppose. There are nice things for women that involve a pair of nicely made trousers and a lovely tunic." She steals a glance to the Weyrleaders, thoughtful assessment for Tarien's clothing in the sienna eyes, and then back to R'dur with a faint smile. She's trying, see!
The headwoman finishes her dessert, and as the others begin to complete their meals she gestures for the drudges who slowly collect plates here and there before carrying them to the kitchens to be washed. Moments later, a loud clang then muted crash can be heard from that direction, and Adele cranes her head over her shoulder to see if she might discover its cause. Seeing nothing, she murmurs something to those at her table--"'scuse me--" then slips out toward the kitchen to deal with whatever's happened.
You sense Brijana murmurs softly as she leans in more cozily. "You won't have to fund them, I promise."
Adele walks off towards the kitchen.
Adele has left.
Breena's unrepentant look doesn't last through Tarien's reminder. "Yes, I remember." She mumbles something that could almost be the Weyrwoman's name, too. "Oh, egg touchings? Just let us know when, we'll make sure they get down there."
"Hey now," Reanna cautions R'dur warily before he becomes too enthusiastic, "I ain't joining up with no fashion show." The hint of her Trader's accent slips back in with a return to apprehension. "If half the Weyr's going to be peering at my clothes to see whether they're local or imported, I won't have none of it--and might prefer smelling fishy to that." The rueful chuckle that punctuates her remark trails off when a trio of candidates from across the room, having finished their dinners, begins to approach. "Shells, not again," she mutters, eyes having gone wide and adopting a hunted look. "Sorry, but I gotta go, um, check and see how Daerin's doing with those chores." To highlight her feeble excuse, once the young woman rises she doesn't even head to the kitchens, as Daerin did, but waves and makes her hem-stumbling way back to the inner caverns.
"Don't need that," says Ailani to Brijana, determined to resist, "since I'm not usually called out of the stables to go to formal things." Belatedly, she takes in Reanna's dress and shakes her head, sympathy still in that smile of hers. "I think I'm lucky that someone didn't decide I needed he..lp..." Trailing off, her eyes go wide as she overhears the conversation between the Weyrlingmaster and Weyrwoman, and, hushed, she asks, "Did they say... egg... *touching*? Like we'd have to go touch them?"
Reanna walks towards the inner cavern.
Reanna has left.
R'dur beams at Brijana, nodding slowly. "That's good, at least," he tells her. "Perhaps... you'd like to dance? In a little bit." Then, to Reanna, he notes, "Well, no, we won't do that, of course. But--oh. Ah. Well. Good night, Reanna. Say hello to Daerin for me, please? Thank you." He frowns as he watches her exit. "I hope everything's all right," he murmurs under his breath. But he shrugs and tears his gaze away from her, back to Ailani. "Well, yes. But they're only eggs. They're not going to hurt you or anything," he notes knowledgably.
"*Touching*," says K'ran -- apparently being both parent and Weyrleader imbues one with superior hearing. "Yeah. You'll get an opportunity to get out on the sands and get close up with the eggs, so that hopefully it won't be as nerve-wracking the day of the hatching." His own plate full, he crosses over to where the main group of candidates seem to be seated, and helps himself to a chair -- and a second, empty one, presumably reserved for Tarien.
Brijana is a persistent little bugger, look at how well R'dur's dressed now, but also knows when to choose her battles and just nods. "I suppose you don't really need dresses or anything too nice in the stables," she concedes. "She's always in some sort of trouble." Watching Reanna leave, the aside is for R'dur's ears, but it's hard to speak to R'dur without including Ailani, and a sheepish smile flashes for the other girl's benefit. "And of course, I mean that with the utmost concern for her well-being." Yeah, sure. But there's little time for that, and looking mildly flustered, she extricates herself from R'dur's side to straighten at K'ran's arrival. "How soon? Do we have to dress up, can we wear boots? I heard stories from an old bluerider that come hatchin' day, he had to stand barefoot on those sands."
Halfway to the chair set aside for her, Tarien lets out a sigh, shakes her head. "Thanks," she murmurs to K'ran, hand set gently on his shoulder, "but she's not having any of it, I'd better go see what I can do." But -- "Touching, yes, and it's really not that bad, I promise. Boots for the touchings, sandals for the hatching," she adds for Brijana's benefit, then, with a wave and an apologetic smile, she's back off again.
Tarien walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
Tarien has left.
Sesheta makes a very discreet exit after finishing off her wine and the pastry she'd grabbed earlier. Her dark eyes linger briefly on those nearest to her, her expression vague save for a smile that looks like it's been tacked on at the last moment. Then, she's gone, slipping out into the evening.
Sesheta walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
Sesheta has left.
Distracted, Ailani nods at Brijana, but the look on her face suggests that she might just agree with anything said by the other young woman right about now, even if it did involve a dress, as focused as she is on responses from R'dur and K'ran. "I wasn't worried the eggs'd hurt me," *much*, says her expression, "just that, um, you know - I know the dragons don't bite or anything, but I don't know if I'd want anyone poking at *my* babies." Blushing with the realization of what she's said, she adds, hastily, "If I had any."
K'ran's half back to his feet as Tarien's departing, but she's gone before he can sneak a word in edgewise, and so he must content himself with watching after her. "Jays. Here I thought she and I were going to get to sit down together for the first time in a while, without dragons kicking sand at us." As he exhales a sigh, he turns toward the candidates, and flashes a smile. "I guess you're all stuck with just me. Booga-booga." Evidently that's meant to be scary.
R'dur frowns again, eyes cutting toward Reanna again. He sighs. "I hope not. That fish smell... Absolutely horrible. I felt terrible about it, especially when I--" But he doesn't finish, only blushes and glances downward. "It's really not so bad," he adds, diverting the attention to Ailani. A quick glance and a 'sir' are offered to K'ran then. "Well, don't poke them, then. It's really... It's a touching, not a poking," he tells the candidate, hiding a smile behind one hand.
"At least there's sandals," Brijana says kindly, her attempts to cajole Ailani back to some semblance of normal pretty lame. "And people do it all the time. I swear," the young woman tosses her head, fully expecting the long locks to swing which they don't given they're bound up, and faltering when they don't. "I swear, the number of women in the lower caverns who thrust their tummies out at you to touch and feel a kick. I suspect it's something like the same thing for dragons, except I've heard clutch dams are pretty protective. Aren't they, sir?" The booga booga does it, allowing Bri to relax enough to flash K'ran her most charming smile. It's only belatedly that she cuts a sharp look to R'dur that turns into delighted surprise, "You're asking me to dance?"
R'dur glances sideways at Brijana as she talks of pregnant women, arching his brows. "Er. Right," he agrees after a moment. Though, his gaze falters as she realizes his earlier question. "Er. Well. I mean, if you--if you /want/ to. You don't have to, but I mean, I just thought--I mean, I thought you might like--" A shrug; he blushes bright red.
Ailani's far enough removed from normal that her eyes are glazed over now, but she replies to Brijana with a fleeting smile. "One good reason to make sure my hands are always grubby - they don't ask so much then," she provides her own method for avoiding the 'ooo, touch my tummy' brigade. "I think, um, I'm going to go check on Reanna to make sure she's okay." Not a very smooth excuse, as these things go, but perhaps the earnest smile offered to everyone at the table makes up for it. "Thanks for the dinner - and not having to clean up. And - hey, Brijana, R'dur, have a good dance!" She hurries off then, without looking back.
Ailani walks towards the inner cavern.
Ailani has left.
K'ran sends a wave after Ailani as she departs, but is left muttering, bemusedly, "Maybe booga-booga is scarier than I thought." A shrug of those lean shoulders and he tucks into his meal.
Breena shakes her head after Tarien's departure. "One of the oh so many reasons why I am so glad that Sonaith is green, I have to say. Touching's not that bad, either..." Except Ailani's gone by then, and she shrugs. "I'll catch up with her later--if only to make sure that the booga-booga didn't scare her away. Here, R'dur, Brijana, they've cleared some space over there for dancing, so have at."
"I'd love to," Bri finishes for R'dur, the creeping smile growing wider with his renewed stammering. One of her slim hands finds his, the other picking up one edge of her new dress. "And maybe afterwards," her gaze turns to the Weyrleader, impudence in the sienna shading, "The Weyrleader could show us how age and experience are rewarded on the dance floor."
"With," she goes on quickly, Brijana's eyes laughing as they descend onto Breena with mock seriousness, "the Weyrlingmaster, and then me? I promise, I've learned how to dance so as not to step on people's toes."
"Oh. Well. Okay," R'dur tells Ailani mildly, offering a faint smile. Then: "Yes, ma'am," he tells Breena reflexively, nodding to her. He stands easily, taking her hand and drifting toward the dance floor with her. "I won't say I really remember myself, but. I'll do my best, of course," he notes. Then, once on the dance floor, he leans close to murmur something to her.
R'dur mutters to Brijana, "... proud... You were... nice to Reanna...."
You whisper "I'm proud of you. You were very nice to Reanna. Thank you." to Brijana.
K'ran laughs quietly, and shakes his head. "The Weyrleader, with all his age and experience, has come to learn that he has two left feet, and is a danger to himself and others when attempting to dance. Now, you want to ice skate, we can talk. But I'm better off keeping time, badly, by clapping than I am trying to dance."
"Oh, I don't know about that, sir." Flirtatiously, the ruddy-haired girl flashes another one of those smiles of oozing charm. Brijana manages to stop them before they too far from the table, fascinated by the Weyrleader more than the greenrider nearby. "I like his shirt. He fills it out well," she remarks. They've done this dancing thing enough that she easily moves into the brownrider's arms to rest first her chin on R'dur's shoulder long enough to hear the murmur, and as she flushes, turns her cheek to rest there. "I'm /always/ incredibly nice, if you don't listen to St'vren. But she wasn't so hostile back so it wasn't that hard."
Breena laughs, shaking her head. "No dancing for me, but thanks--had my fill of it last time when I spent far too much time getting my toes stepped on. Not that I think you'd do that, of course," she says to K'ran, grinning. "It'd probably be your feet in danger then. Besides, I need to help clean up, so I'd best see to that."
Breena has left.
A flicker of emotion crosses R'dur's face as he glances between K'ran and Brijana, but he shrugs after a moment. "Ah. Yes. A nice shirt," he agrees blandly with her. "But." He shakes his head, smile brightening again as he leaves that subject behind. "Well, I'm still proud," he tells her. "I think she's been having a hard time these last couple of days, and while I'm not trying to, ah, justify her own actions... Well. I'm glad you two could have a civil conversation, maybe find some common ground, at least?"
"I wonder what was with her hat," Brijana muses aloud to her on-hiatus weyrmate, lifting her face to be on the look out for Reanna should the harper return. "It was such a spectacle and gaudy, well," she looks momentarily defensive in case the pride R'dur feels disappears with her comment, "It was gaudy, I'm not being mean or catty or anything, but she would've done better without it." She pushes her lips together, slowly putting one with one to get two. "Bad haircut maybe. Easily fixed with some pins, I'm sure. I've noticed she's been having a hard time. It's hard not to notice that the entier barracks smells vaguely odd because of her, but you never know with traders when their last bath was."
K'ran downs a few more bites of his meal before rising to his feet. "I think I'll follow after Tarien," he declares -- and favoring both R'dur and Brijana with a grin, says, "You both have a good night, hm? Don't stay up too late."
K'ran walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
K'ran has left.
"Yes, sir," R'dur answers K'ran quickly with a smile. Then, to Brijana, he nods. "It... was not an ideal look," even he admits. "Well, I'm sure it will work out. Just... you try to be kind to her, and not give her any reason to mess with /you/, anyway." With that, he falls silent, and seems content to just enjoy the all too brief dance.
As more people seem to drift away, and the clean up crew has their work cut out for them, to the point that even most of the other dancers have exited, Bri tries to make the moment linger as long as possible, peacefully happy to just be swaying slightly in R'dur's arms. After what seems like an eternity, and is probably only a few minutes, she finally answers with a mild, "I'll be kind, if she doesn't mess with me." Her agreement is contingent on the latter, and as the last of her candidate friends move away, a finger that brushes against the loose sleeves of Bri's clothes, she too moves away, towards the barracks but not without trying to steal a kiss from the brownrider's cheek, and soft-spoken words as she gives the rider one last hug, "I love you. I'm glad you didn't avoid me today." Smiling, shy even, she moves away with her last look lingering backwards to R'dur.
For all R'dur winces, and blushes, he doesn't avoid that quick kiss to his cheek or the hug, either. "Good night, Bri," he murmurs in return, as she departs. Then, with a small, suddenly forlorn smile, he turns as well and heads back to the bowl.