Living Caverns
The rough-hewn majesty of this cavern far outpaces any delight in the multitudes of curves that form its enclosure. The glabrous grey granite is shot through with translucent obsidian, lending subtly-veined sparkle to the walls and the foot-trodden smoothness of the floor that shows centuries-old placements of the scarred trestle tables; carven hollows give homes for the glow baskets and the coat-pegs that line the walls. No mosaics, no painting, no tiles: just a few well-done tapestries mark the pathway that lead to the kitchen to the north and the inner caverns to the west, and frame the nighthearth's stew and snacks, while a heavier strip of oiled canvas shields the unwary from the wind in the bowl.
Tucked into a glowlit niche are Heaven, Lox, Kelpie, Aria Moon, Tiramisu, Quenn, Eowyn, Boo, Archimedes, Ploofy, Kythe, RazorThorn, Tremayne, Fiannan, Miki, Sentanta, and Whirlwind.
You see Tsunami Banner, Old Auntie sit-by-the-fire, Fluffernut, Kali, Brat, Fruity White Wine, Saphron, Missy, Fantastic Triple Layer Bubbly Surprise, and Creampuff here.
Qarien, Khloe, and D'renn are here.
Obvious exits:
Bowl     Kitchens     Inner Caverns     Crafting Area

D'renn has a mug of ale, a bright green shirt, and a cheery smile that gets directed at Lis as she comes into the caverns.

Khloe yawns, bored and with nothing to do. A cheerful wave is aimed at D'renn and Lis as the enter.

Trying to smooth the wince at D'renn's smile down into something more... social, Lis returns the greeting with a hasty waggle of fingers both his way and Khloe's before she heads to the hearth - and skips over the klah pot for juice with a sulk.

Not that it's warm enough for klah to be best avoided anyhow. D'renn pats the bench next to him, indicating for Lis to come and sit down. "How're you?"

Khloe watches Lis head to the hearth, wondering what's wrong. But nope, Khloe is gonna be quiet today.

Braniff arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

"How am I?" The last word leaves Lis' mouth on a disturbingly high pitch. "I'm... fine. Good. Wondeful, in fact," babbles the greenrider as she settles next to D'renn on the bench. "Oh shells," is muttered to herself as she watches Braniff appear. /Wonderful/ timing everyone has...

Braniff wanders into the caverns and heads to the hearth for a mug of klah.  He turns to find a chair and freezes in his tracks for a moment as he sees Lis and D'renn.  He shakes his head and resumes his movement toward the riders.  He smiles tenderly at the greenrider, a polite nod going to the weyrlingmaster as he settles into a chair next to Lis.  "Hello, love...." he murmurs as he caresses her arm with the back of his fingers.

"Good good, glad you're alright - nice weather, isn't it?" D'renn gives Braniff a cheerful nod... smile turning flat as he notices the caressing fingers. So it's back to staring into space and drinking his ale for the 'lingmaster.....

Lis slides her fingers 'round and 'round the glass with a resolute sigh - physical evidence of her will steeling itself. "D'renn, I need to tell you something," states the greenrider in a serious tone that just barely borders on ominous. Uh-oh.

Lylia walks in from the Central Bowl.

"Tell me something?" That /is/ a bit too ominous for D'renn, who rather ignores Lis - and Braniff - in favour of calling an hello to Lylia. And drinking some more ale, of course.

Braniff sighs and offers an encouraging smile to Lis.  He gently squeezes her shoulder before returning to his mug of klah.  He nods a greeting to Lylia, hoping the brownrider will give Lis a break today and not tease her so badly.

And Lylia too... Biting back a whimper as she manages to attract a small audience, Lis nods at the weyrlingmaster whether or not she's got his attention - her next statement ought to. "I need to tell you... that..." Sucking in a deep breath, Lis lets it out in four little words: "I'm pregnant. It's yours."

"G'dday D'renn, Lis." Lylia gives a little nod, striding into the caverns with a bounce in her step. La la. But the rider pauses midstep, eyes widening to the size of Belior. Ohhhhh. So she /wasn't/ the last to know. A smirk suddenly rides up her face as she nearly falls into a chair. Time to watch.

Ale splashes from D'renn's mug as it quivers in his grasp. Clenching the handle as if it were the sole symbol of sanity in the Weyr, D'renn just squeaks two words. "Pregant?! Mine?!"

Khloe raises an eyebrow. No, it's not going to take much to keep Khloe quiet; she's seechless already.

Braniff reaches out and lays a hand over the greenriders, an oddly possessive gesture that he's never made before.  In that one touch he offers support and love.  He looks at the weyrlingmaster, sorrow clouding his eyes as well as a spark of.....pity? Sympathy, maybe?

"I didn't /mean/ to..." Lis begins feebly, voice dropping off into silence as she keeps gazed fixed on the glass of juice in front of her. Surely, it's easier than looking at D'renn. Head ducks, shoulds hunch, as the greenrider does all she can to become invisible.

"Lis! Lis!" D'renn stares at the young greenrider with disbelief, shock and delight all warring for control of his expression. Braniff gets a hard stare though, and the 'lingmaster mutters, sounding as if he's being strangled, "How d'you know it's mine?"

Braniff snorts softly and mutters, "Cuz it's the wrong time to be mine...."  He looks down and away as he can't quite control his emotions like he thought he'd be able to.  He takes a noisy gulp of klah, trembling slightly.

This was the part Lis was dreading, and she answers appropriately - first a loud gulp followed by a tiny, meek voice. "He's right. It's been six sevendays since the flight, which is about how long Catia says I'm pregant. And... I sort of... forgot... to take my green stuff." That said, the greenrider curls up into more of a ball than previously, if such were humanly possible.

D'renn glares again at Braniff, and worse, at Lis. "Oh, I /see/......" Taking his ale mug, the bluerider pushes the bench back roughly to get up, and then starts to /stalk/ around the caverns. Greenriders. Huh.

Lylia's eyes narrow slightly, emerald-hued slits watching the weyrlingmaster as she defensively scoots her chair closer to Lis, scraping the floor, the sound hiding the mumbling under her breath. Poor greenriders.

Braniff catches sight of the glares and shrugs the one directed at himself off but anger flares in his eyes as the bluerider sends one Lis' way as well.  He turns to her and tugs gently on her hand, "Come, love....please?" he murmurs as he tries to coax her into his arms for comfort.

Lis just snorts critically after D'renn, uncoiling from her cower to prop her elbows up on the table before her cockily. "No, love. It's alright..." Her fingers do go around his hand with a slight squeeze as a curious, smirk-like expression takes residence on her face as mud-brown eyes watch the weyrlingmaster. Could that be a sparkle of amusement in them?

D'renn refills his mug and stalks out without another word to Lis. Wonder why?

D'renn exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Braniff nods and settles back in his chair, leaving only his hand in hers.  He looks after the weyrlingmaster and shakes his head.  "I thought he might at least be pleased......." he murmurs.  He doesn't mention his true fears, though they may not be fears for the pregnant greenrider.

"That went well." Blink. Lylia stares after the retreating D'renn, before slowly turning back to face her friend, a trifle of a smile on her face. Amused? Mildly. Worried? Probably. But it all melts into thankfulness. "And you told me before the father! Oh, you're so sweet for trusting me so!" Lylia can conveniently forget the circumstances of the realization, really.

Lis just stares after D'renn longer than courtesy would allow, an almost worried look sent after the dissappearing form of the weyrlingmonster. "/He/ is just a special case, it seems..." Standing from her bench as well, she squeezes Braniff's shoulder as she ambles... else-weyr. "Of course I told /you/ before the father... look how he reacted!" With a snort, Lis escapes briefly - t'is too confusing in there.

Bundle up 'gainst snow or sun! The bowl is open to seasons' wrath.