Day after the "Istan Fiasco"

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Logfile from G'deon
21st of January, 2001

Nylanth's World Headquarters
The woodsy scent of unfinished lumber permeates this liberally immense weyr. The source can be found near the back of the weyr where a rather large number of wooden planks been stacked against the wall, and a couple scraps of hide with odd drawings are lying on top.
The very first object inside the weyr is a large couch, a bit over 23 meters long, almost 16 meters wide, and a little more than one meter off the ground. The couch is kept practically spotless, and there is a noticeable hollow in the middle of the stone couch, left by hundreds of Turns of dragons. Next to the couch, on the side nearest the weyr's entrance, there are two hooks drilled into the wall. A considerably large towel hangs from one hook, and a wide broom hangs from the other.
There are other hooks newly built into the wall as well, a couple of them also occupied with much smaller towels, one with a rather thick coat, and from another dangles a pair of gloves and an odd furry hat, though they look a bit small for an adult. A small shelf has been put up as well, already holding a few various tools.
The last notable item in the room is the small fireplace opposite the dragon couch. It really is no more than a depression in the wall at the moment, though a rather deep one. The area in front of the fireplace is kept quite clean. In the small corner in between the fireplace and the weyr entrance there is a short metal tube-like rack, not even a meter tall. A slightly longer broom and long-handled shovel are kept inside the rack, along with a long metal rod with a darkly finished wooden handle. Next to this set there is a matching metal box of sorts, filled with fuel for the fire, and including a small packet of slightly fragrant herbs.
It is a spring midmorning. As Rukbat climbs higher in the sky, the warmth causes the mist to thicken into a blanket of fog. The fog feels like a cool mist against your skin if you venture out into this morning, and the sunlight makes some patches of it glow with an almost unbearable brightness.
Bronze Nylanth is here.
You see an old rucksack here.
Obvious exits:
Ledge

You ascend with practiced steps up to Nylanth's bronzen neck and settle yourself between two neckridges.

Nylanth
The torrent of darkness that blacks this dragon's claret hide rides his lean, broad-shouldered frame as a cascade of shadows. However dark that jeweled hide twinkles -- oh how it fits with never a wrinkle, that darkly gleaming skin -- his dashing, darkling glory is offset by those moonlit galleon's sails. Doe-skin brown may soften his hindquarters, but it is bronze that crinkles bright at his ale-laced throat, clatters down the gallop of neckridges steeling his spine and dashes madly along the rapier length of his tail. His eyes -- bright, like the moon at midnight -- eyes like the stroke of midnight, gleam with a robber's gaze.
A well-oiled pair of riding straps are fastened to Nylanth's neck. They are dyed half in midnight blue, and the other half has been bleached to a creamy white, offset by gleaming silver buckles that twinkle in the light. They allow places for footholds, as well as ample areas for passengers to attach there own riding gear.
Nylanth is 1 Turn and 14 days old.
He is 60 feet (18m) long, with a wingspan of 100 feet (30m).
Nylanth seems to be listening.

Nylanth's Ledge
This spacious ledge could be called spotless if it weren't for the random items with which Nylanth has deemed fit to decorate. At the moment there is a rather chewed up leather boot to one side, on accident more than likely, someone's missing knickers, pink no less, plus a wooden crate filled with just about any little thing that may have caught the bronze's eye. On the side of the crate scrawled in Cromcoal are the words "Nylanth's Lost &38; Found".
There is barely enough room for two bronze dragons to lounge on the smooth surface. Smooth except for a few distinctive talon marks that is. The ledge curves around the wall of the rock face in a lazy crescent shape, and off to the eastern side a glimpse of the weyr's entrance can be seen.
The sometimes cluttered ledge however isn't nearly enough to surpass the extraordinary view of the central bowl with the lake peaking out around the corner, sunlight sometimes glinting off the surface, or the snow capped peaks to the north and west, not to mention those spectacular sunsets.
It is a spring midmorning. As Rukbat climbs higher in the sky, the warmth causes the mist to thicken into a blanket of fog. The fog feels like a cool mist against your skin if you venture out into this morning, and the sunlight makes some patches of it glow with an almost unbearable brightness.
Obvious exits:
Weyr - Fly

Above the Bowl
The ocean's tranquil thermals settle within the center section of the bowl's airspace, unusually smooth and bouyant -- though oft to switch as the seasons shift. Lingering beneath spires' constant presence, the perpetual activity of the weyr can be observed from every direction: from the testing rustle of dragonet wings, to the playful games sent aloft.
It is a spring midmorning. As Rukbat climbs higher in the sky, the warmth causes the mist to thicken into a blanket of fog. The fog feels like a cool mist against your skin if you venture out into this morning, and the sunlight makes some patches of it glow with an almost unbearable brightness.
Obvious exits:
Northern Sky - Weyrling Air - Above the Pens - Above the Lake - Ledges

Wings tired? Or you just want to feel solid earth beneath your paws...

Central Bowl
Seven spindles brush the clouds -- quite literally -- overhead, a jagged, spired cotillion grey-stoned majesty. The bowl from here is expansively large, extending a full half mile in both directions, and although sometimes a bit of a stretch, most of the hubs of activity can be easily observed. Hard-packed ground shows the common pathways, all of them meandering about the craggy bunch of boulders that form a centerpiece: carven, hand-worn and foothold-full, it gives a bit of centerpoint to the otherwise vast emptiness of the area.
To the north lie the hatching grounds and leadership weyrs, while the lows of herdbeasts mark the feeding pens to the northeast. A flurry of ever-present activity marks the living caverns to the west, and another time-traveled path the ground weyrs just adjacent to the southwest. Southeast, a glint of blue shows the lake, glittering and cold.
It is a spring midmorning. As Rukbat climbs higher in the sky, the warmth causes the mist to thicken into a blanket of fog. The fog feels like a cool mist against your skin if you venture out into this morning, and the sunlight makes some patches of it glow with an almost unbearable brightness.
Clinging to footholds in the boulder-mound are fourteen firelizards.
Green Yshanth, bronze Rixesith, green Zaqith, green Miravith, bronze Soquilith, and bronze Orbyth are here.
You see a wagonmaster, Cattysaur, Box, Dustina, and Wagon Two here.
You notice Ryern asleep here.
Quara, R'ave, Lis, and Zi'n are here.
Obvious exits:
Pens - Northern Bowl - Caverns - Ground Weyrs - Lakeside - Guards HQ

G'deon slides gently down Nylanth's neck and land with a soft thud.

Kamath looks after the green and, with an impish smile to his rider, follows her out towards the pens.

Mayir walks in.

Orbyth catches sight of the green heading for the pens, and the bronze is after her like a rocket. Sun streaks off Orbyth's hide as the big dragon streaks after Alymath.

Orbyth moves with endless energy to the Pens.

G'deon reaches up to loosen Nylanth's riding straps a bit more, then pats the bronze's neck affectionately. "There you go," he says quietly.

Foofth steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

Foofth glides to the Pens.

Quara chuckles at R'ave. "Well, I suppose it's up to you," she replies, shrugging, before waggling her fingers perkily at S'dan. "Hello there," she purrs, sidling over. "I'm Quara. The one in black is Lis, and Pinky over there is R'ave." She can be a nice hostess when she wants to. "And is that... it is! Gid! How nice to see you!" Eyelashes a-flutter, she's sizing up every male within sight.

R'ave seems to be at the pinnacle of a silent struggle with Soquilith, eye narrowed toward the bronze who's swimming, shambling movements are shuffling him nearer and nearer to the pens. "I wouldn't call it a wonder. S'just how I am." Puppified eyes flicker down at the greenrider. "Yes, I know, Soq, I can see Nylanth... go." Sigh. Pinky wiggles a hand carelessly toward whomever he's being introduced to. "Hey, Gid," he mumbles sullenly. There goes the good mood.

And out into the bowl comes S'nug, Foofth, his lifemate, all ready lilting off to the pens for a little bit of cuddly, happy heardbeast killing. Can't they all just get along? "Hi, Lis. And others," carols the bluerider, coming out into the bowl.

Soquilith caracoles indolently to the Pens.

G'deon arches an eyebrow slightly as he glances at Quara, a quick nod given in return to her rather enthusiastic greeting. Then an amused questioning glance is given to R'ave as he starts to walk over to the group. "Hello Quara, Lis, R'ave..."

Quara is allowed to be perky. She has rank, and Lis is getting drunk. It's a wonderful life. Now all she needs is a guardian angel called Clarence, 'cause Sakuruth is chasing Aly. "R'ave? What's wrong, dearie? Want some wine?" Wine solves all problems. This is a fact. "Hey there, good looking!" It's another bluerider. Whee!

Nothing helps a bad mood like spreading it around... and Lis' is going from black depression and sulkiness to something a little closer to evil. Now that Aly's in the pens, all will be good. "Oh, look, it's a regular /party/," she half-coos, half-purrs, all of definately dangerous and falseley cheerful. No one gets individual greetings, but words of "Hello there" or "Nice behind" are passed out in between long drags from the bottle.

Yukimiko steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

R'ave hunches his shoulders a bit, gazing stoilidly after Soquilith. "He's only going to -watch-." The PMS Prince also happens to be the King of Denial. Ignoring his situation, he fiddles eloquently with the collar of his jacket, mouth pulled into a slight, worried frown. "Wine.. wine sounds good, really," he mumbles at Quara, moving on to fiddle with the cuff of his sleeve. He refuses to leer at Lis. Well -- except for whenever he looks up.

Triton steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

Triton glides to the Pens.

"Some of the wine get passed this way?" asks S'nug cutely, sliding up and over towards Quara. After all, fellow blueriders need to stick together. Bed together. So on. There's an affectionate leer for both the woman of the hour and Quara, but Quara is sought after more, since she's willing to share the wine.

Zi'n barely manages to dismoutn from Orbyth's neck before the dragon proceeds into the pens, leaving his rider quite bewildered. "Um.... hi? What's h..." Ohh. Oh! Eek! "She's proddy? Is she proddy? She isn't, is she?" Whimper. Bye-bye peaceful day. The Istan 'lingleader looks quite despaired, glancing from 'rider to 'rider, trying to deem who's the most dangerous of them all; the /green/rider.

Nylanth seems to be quite content for the moment to stay near his rider, though curious eyes are turned frequently to the Pens as odd sounds reach him. G'deon also doesn't seem to be all that keen on seeing what's going on. He just sort of lounges where he is, an odd smile on his face as he nods to people as they pass by, though he /does/ seem to be listening rather acutely.

Yukimiko flitters idly out of the caves, looks around with a questioning chirp, and hovers near G'deon, seeming to request a nice shoulder space. One that isn't occupied of course. Chiiiirp?

G'deon
G'deon appears at first glance to be quite calm and collected, though a mischievous gleam seems to tint his baby blue eyes from time to time. He shows promising signs of growing into what is still a somewhat lanky build, standing less than an inch under six feet, but many Turns of hard work have helped his shoulders to fill out considerably, along with his arms and hands. His legs however are still the wiry limbs of his youth, which he'll never lose. His sandy blond hair is kept quite clean and is beginning to grow out noticeably, locks of hair curling well past his ears and to his shoulders, managing to look a bit tousled at times. The calmness of his eyes makes up for that, however, clear and blue as the summer sky over High Reaches.
G'deon wears a dark blue, long sleeved shirt, with bits of white lace sewn on at the elbows, and red lace at the cuffs, tying them tightly together causing the sleeves to billow out a bit. A dark brown, slightly light-weight wherhide jacket that has obviously recently been brushed covers that. He is also wearing rather tight fitting pants a shade blue darker than his shirt, tucked into black, mid-calf, wherhide boots, also recently shined and buffed. He wears a thick, black, wherhide belt around his waist, and a small dark bag hangs from his left hip. Perched on G'deon's shoulder is Selig.
Unwavering shadows intertwine with the deep dark blue of a glacier, the two cords forming a single loop. A small tail of the same black and blue hangs from the top of the knot, joined by a single tassel. Mingling with the cords is a fine ribbon of shimmering bronze, naming G'deon as a bronze senior weryling and wingsecond of High Reaches.
He is awake and looks alert.
G'deon is 20 Turns, 7 months, and 15 days old.

Quara might not be proddy, but that doesn't mean she can't incite any acts that /someone/ is going to regret. So she links one arm through Lis' and leads the entire motley crew to the ground weyrs. "Party time, people! Bring that wine, Lissie," she directs. "Right this way!" They're gonna have fun!

Quara abandons the bowl for ground weyr's shelter.

Mayir abandons the bowl for ground weyr's shelter.

From G'deon's shoulder, Selig chirps inquisitively at Yukimiko

"My, my, my," coos Lis as she spots and hears the Istan bronze gibbering. "Observant, are we? And since when to Istans let /boys/ chase?" Nevermind that Zi'n seems to be about her age. "See you later, boy-o. Come along, if you're man enough." And thus she's dragged off.

Jaibyrd appears from ground weyr's overhung shadows.

Lis abandons the bowl for ground weyr's shelter.

R'ave simply utters a discontented sigh. He's only following to patronize Soquilith.

R'ave abandons the bowl for ground weyr's shelter.

*High Reaches (#3155) has just been sent new mail by Charis (#10349).

Message 24 of 24 on *High Reaches (#3155):
Date: - Sun Jan 21 13:33:29 2001 CST
From: - Charis (#10349)
To: - *IstaHold (#2410), *High Reaches (#3155), and Charis (#10349)
Subject: A response...

Not long after the weyrling havoc descended upon Ista Hold, a rather irate troop of firelizards were seen swooping through High Reaches Weyr's caverns, delivering equally irate letters to the proper Weyr authorities from Lady Charis of Ista:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Weyrleaders of High Reaches Weyr:

Long has Ista Hold kept good relations with all Weyrs. In good faith, the Hold has always been loyal to the dragons pledged to protect Pern....the keyword is PROTECT. The recent actions of two dragons from the Weyr was nothing short of criminal. The destruction and damage done to the same Great Hall that has withstood age, war, thread and hurricane is terrible and will tax the hold's resources greatly to restore. And the seemingly carefree manner in which the riders of the dragons reacted was outrageous.

Ista Hold has always sought to accomodate the Weyr and it's dragons in any way it can and welcomed visits. However, this sort of destructive behavior I will NOT stand. Not only did your dragons disrupt the turnover gather and inflict property damage, but they also put the lives of everyone inside the hold in danger by severely taxing the structure of the hold itself. As it is, the entry arch was so badly damaged that supports have had to be installed to keep it from collapsing until it can be fixed. The great hall interior is in shambles and the entryway to the Harper's Hall is in no better condition. In light of this destruction, I have no choice but to ask any dragonrider visitors to Ista Hold now keep they're dragons no nearer to the Hold than the Hold Valley until further notice, and that all dragonrider pairs involved in the incident not return to Ista until they graduate and I can be assured they and their dragons have learned better manners.

And, of course, I await the Weyr's compensation arrangements for the damages inflicted upon the hold by its dragons.

Sincerely,

Charis, Lady Holder of Ista Hold

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

OOCly: Though Charis is not amused, Charis' player is. ;) This is just for RP folks. Feel free to RP up the new tension between IH and HRW accordingly. :D
--------------------------

Zi'n abandons the bowl for ground weyr's shelter.

Message 15 of 15 on *Gossip (#627):
Date: - Sun Jan 21 03:31:57 2001 CST
From: - Anonymous :)
To: - *Gossip (#627)
Subject: Dragons and doorways.. Oh my!

An angry drudge stomps into the room, glowering at the other for good measure before she plops into a chair.
The other glances up curiously. "What's tha matter w'you?"
The first glowers a bit more before beginning her tirade. "You'd never believe.. never in /all/ my days! Used a whole bucket of my best butter, they did!"
"Butter?" By now the other's quite confused.
The first nods. "Butter. This little snippet of a greenrider - one of the new werylings from 'Reaches, you know - she comes in demanding I give her oil... I wasn't about to give the girl any such thing! S'my best oil, y'know. So I gave her butter instead."
"But /why/?" Yes, the other is still confused.
"You haven't heard?" The first sounds genuinely surprised as she settles back into her seat. "Seems the weryling's dragon.. Ves.. Vesp... I dunno. Something. Anyway, she decided she wanted to dance and /shoved/ her way into the great hall. And /then/ shoved her head into the ballroom! Gave 'em quite a fright, she did."
"The great hall?" Evidently, the other's finding this hard to believe.
"Yup.. and some bronze shoved in after her.. got stuck in the door. The whole group of "'em had to butter 'im up to get 'im out!"
The other shakes her head, wide-eyed.
"It's true, I tell ya!"

OOC: Yes, it's true.. while her 'rider danced, Vespurath decided she wants some fun, too.. and so shoved her way into the great hall. And not alone, either.. she talked bronze Nylanth into joining in the fun, ending up with a stuck bronze and a group of frantic 'riders.. who, by the way, did eventually get /both/ insane dragons out. Once they buttered him up, and slathered fish oil all over him, and the assistant werylingmaster arrived... So if you see a wing of grounded weyrlings all glaring at Tatia and G'deon... you'll know why. *I'm sure logs will be forthcoming.. poke Tatia if interested.*
--------------------------

Yukimiko chirrups to Selig, and looks at his humanpet. Her humanpet knows his, right? And he's nice, right? And Yuki is perhaps the laziest creature of Hiliza's crew. Another, shorter, chirp is given, and a green head swivels to the side.

From G'deon's shoulder, Selig seems to hug G'deon's neck a little tighter. Poor little blue baby is quite used to other firelizards' attention. G'deon however, seem a bit clueless, moody even as he sighs and follows the group to the caverns. Before he disappears however, he glances back, straight at Nylanth. "And do /not/ follow me this time!" he orders. No, he's no mad... just vehement.

You go to the Living Caverns.

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.
Scattered about in various perches and niches are twenty-three firelizards.
You see Old Auntie sit-by-the-fire, OOC NOTICE (look sign), Boots, Hobbes, Generic Sign-Up Sheet, and Kageri here.
Kalette, Kariel, Pia, and Hiliza are here.
Obvious exits:
Bowl - Kitchens - Inner Caverns - Crafting Area

Yukimiko glides in from the Central Bowl.

Nylanth> Nylanth croons quietly after his rider, then settles to the ground, his bronzen head lilting to rest on dark paws and talons, eyes watching the cavern entrance.

Yukimiko twitters in slight annoyance and glides back to her own humanpet, nustling onto Hiliza's ever present bag. The humanpet herself slides into her chair at the lack of response and quietly goes about polishing off her food. Nose wrinkles at the subject matter, but for the most part she attempts not to listen in. 'Tis rude, and all. Ceral is spooned up thankfully, hair occasionally needing to be brushed out of her eyes. Eyes that look up and light up. Swallow, wipe mouth, "G'deon!!" Beam.

Hiliza calls to Yukimiko, who flies over and lands on her shoulder.

G'deon plods in, face seeming to brighten as well as he sees Hiliza's familiar face. He starts to make his way over, trying /very/ hard indeed not to bump into anyone... or anything. Even making unwanted noises seems to be on his bad side today. "Hello there Hiliza. It's been a while," he says quietly, taking a nearby seat and lifting it closer.

"Not too much," Pia returns mildly, offering waves to both G'deon and Hiliza. "No doubt a Journeyman like yourself could afford it."

Hiliza nods energetically, eyes set a twinkle, "Yes... new knot?" She wonders momentarily if there is ceral on her face, but a paranoid hand reaches up and dispells the notion. So she leans on it, elbow resting on the table. "How have you been? And Nylanth?" Hiliza hears whispers amongst the other drudges, but never takes anything they say for granted. Fingers wiggle back at Pia, and attention refocuses.

Kariel shakes his head as he repeats a simple chant of, "How much, Pia. Mark value."

G'deon also nods to Pia as takes a seat rather slowly, glancing around the cavern warily. Attention finally returning to Hiliza he blinks a moment, then crans his neck down to look at the mentioned know. Not easy with a flit on either shoulder. "Oh, that. Um, yes... we were promoted to senior weyrlings the other night," he replies, fiddling with the obviously new cords for a moment, tucking that little tassle behind the cords where it belongs. "I'm... good. And Nylanth too. We're shardin' lucky he didn't get hurt," he adds, a frown creasing his face for a brief moment.

Pia gives a sly little half shrug. "Who knows?" She replies to Kariel, before turning to regard G'deon with a lazy smile. "Not hurt how? What happened?

"Hurt?" Hiliza is concerned, "Rumors fly fast, but....." Drudge-girl bites her lip, and then says, "It's good he didn't... and congratulations, as well..." Soft, quiet voice pauses for a small sip of klah, and then she orients her gaze on G'deon, a mixture of 'do tell' and concern. "You look tired..."

G'deon looks first at Pia, then Hiliza as a small smirk pulls at his lips. That doesn't look very contrite, does it? However, after a glance around the caverns at the other riders, even that smirk disappears, and the weyrling flops his face onto one palm, the elbow resting precariously on a knee. "Well, last night we were dancing and Nylanth and Vespurath tried t.. jon e dthcin," he mutters, fingers reaching up to muffle willing lips.

*Gossip (#627) has just been sent new mail by Anonymous (#300).

Loren strides confidently, hips swinging, in from the Central Bowl.

Kariel steps into the shadows that lead back into the Weyr.

Message 16 of 16 on *Gossip (#627):
Date: - Sun Jan 21 14:01:09 2001 CST
From: - Anonymous :)
To: - *Gossip (#627) and Charis (#10349)
Subject: The Shriek heard 'Round Pern...

THEY DID WHAT?!"

Luckily for the weyrlings in question, Lady Charis had been absent from the gather during the incident. But when messangers brought news of the damage to the Lady Holder....Hades hath no fury as a Lady with a damaged Hold.

As she surveyed the aftermath - sidestepping cracking and falling stone and plaster while she was at it - the Lady remained oddly quiet - too quiet. At least, until she called Velsir and Cailiosa, the new Steward and Headwoman into her office. As always, a drudge or two kept ears to the door and gossip spread quickly about the Lady Holder's outrage.

And the rumor mill had plenty of fodder now, the Lady Holder could be seen furiously writing letters into the night and putting out calls for Smiths to do the repairs. Temporary support beams have been added to the cracked and damaged entry arch into the Great Hall and drudges have worked around the clock to clean up the destroyed furniture and tapestries that had once adorned the hall. There's even gossip that the Hold's structure itself was threatened by the stress put on the enteryway by the incident. Lady Charis insisted on overseeing it all and rumor has it that the staff has been hit hard too. Ailis, the ailing retired Warder of Ista, had a relapse after hearing the news and it was all Charis could do to keep Khardan from charging up to High Reaches himself - that is, after Velsir and Cailiosa got /her/ calmed down. Rumor has it, that Khardan has even been confined to quarters - with posted guard - until the matter is settled.

The chit-chat over klah certainly has fresh material now: What will happen next? Will the Weyr smoothe things over? Will Charis go so far as to demand a Conclave? Will the repairs be finished before the next threadfall? How will the other dragonriders react to the latest events? Only time will tell.

OOC: RP it up, people! Have fun with it. ;) Speculate about the tense politics, complain about the dratted dragons or the over-reacting holders or just moan about being recruited for repairs and clean up at Ista.
--------------------------

Kalette steps into the shadows that lead back into the Weyr.

Pia allows one brow to lift. "Dragons? Dancing? Where did you say?"

Hiliza blinks several times and stiffles a slight giggle, "Tried to what?" Amusement finds itself in only the smallest amount of her voice, and she shushes her excitedly chirping fair and attempts to clear her mind of all sorts of strange pictures from them. Giggle is harder to keep in now, but she manages, thinking a moment and then letting her face fall into a serious grimace, "Are you in terrible trouble?"

Loren exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

G'deon shakes his head a few times, blinking eyes starting forlornly at at the ground. He finally lifts his head however and glances at the two women he spent many a night with... in the barracks of course. "Aye," he reluctantly admits. "We were in the Harper area of Ista Hold. Vespurath and Nylanth wanted to... um, dance. And then they tried to come /into/ the Hold," eyes growing wide with dispair, "and... Nylanth got... stuck."

"Oh that's awful!" One hand covers her mouth, and the other reaches out tenatively to his shoulder, "Is everyone allright?" Eyes shimmer either with descisions between mirth or horror, and she adds, muffled somewhat from behind hand, "Is the Hold all right?" Hiliza tries to be somewhat of a comfort, but can't be helping much, can she?

Pia cants her head towards G'deon. "Seriously?" She inquires, hiding a smile behind twitching lips.

G'deon leans back into the chair, looking about, perhaps, for that wine the riders took with them. "No one was hurt... the Hold was, um... well. It was damaged. A lot. However!" and he leans forward, face firming into an almost soldier-like coolness, "That Hold has been needing repairs for Turns, and Lady Holder Charis knows it." Yeah, good Gid, blame it on Charis. "I saw the requests and complaints coming into the Smith Craft office." Nevermind it's the Smiths who never had time to actually do the requested repairs. "This is just long overdue." Um, Gids?

Nefertiti walks in from the Central Bowl.

Hiliza blinks and merely nods, not really saying anything. Face looks one of a ponder'er, and she retrats both hands to rest on her knees. "Well, I suppose if they needed it..." But because of a couple dragons? Hiliza studies his face and then smiles reassuringly.

Pia's brows lift in twin amusement. "Yes... No doubt that it was entirely their fault."

Nefertiti stands in the shadows over by the main entry and brushes her hair back from her face. She considers the cavern. Well, it's better than nothing. She lurks by the door some more though.

G'deon arches his neck to the side to look beyond Hiliza for the moment and nod to the newcomer welcomingly, but at Hiliza's and Pia's comments, the weyrling glances back at the two women and sighs slightly. Then, with a mighty shrug of his shoulders he seems to shed whatever excuses he'd been making for himself. "Ah, who am I kidding?" he finally contends. "If I knew the Hold was already in need of repair I should have been keeping an extra watch on Nylanth and the others." That's his job now, right? "It's completely my fault, and the fact that the entire wing is being punished for this..." Jaw sets firmly, shoulders square up. "I'll just have to talk to the weyrlingmasters."

Pyrene wanders distractedly in from the Central Bowl.

Pia yawns widely, leaning back in her chair. "So all the weyrlings are punished?" She inquires, settling her chin on her steepled fingers. "That seems a little harsh, to me."

Kinecha moves purposefully in from the Central Bowl.

Nefertiti snorts by the door and then walks inside towards the food tables. She's a bit on the dirty and travelworn side, but doesn't look inclined to say much unless someone speaks to her first.

Hiliza chews on her lip and offers a distracted wave to the new-person. Nothing personal, she's justs... distracted. "I would do whatever you think is right....." More chewing on her lip-really, if she keeps this habit up, she's going to chew a hole in her mouth. She nods at Pia and looks up and gives a double wave to Kinecha and Pyrene... but is still focusing here.

Nefertiti flips a hand wave back and picks up a slab of meat from the table. "Mind if I eat this?" she asks, politely enough

Pyrene walks in and mms absently at the tail end of the conversation. "Weyrlings are forever getting punished anyway," she notes to Pia. "Kind of like candidates, except we don't have chains big enough for growing dragons." She throws waves to the others in the room, including the unknown-to-her Nefertiti, but pausing slightly at G'deon. "Ahh... /that/," she murmurs, rolling her eyes. Attention returns to Nefertiti briefly: "Hmm? Oh, go ahead.. if it's out it's available."

Nefertiti nods her thanks and munches the meat "'y thanks."

"Ha ha." Pia returns dryly, aiming a half-glare Pyrene-wards. It's not as fierce as normal, perhaps due to the rather cheerful gleam in her wide green eyes. Someone's in a good mood.

G'deon smiles as Pyrene and Kinecha enter the caverns. Friendly faces are always welcome. Especially now. His left hand rises unconsciously to fiddle with the knot at his shoulder, the silver tassle especially as a thoughtful look crosses his face, though his only verbal reply is a muted "Aye."

Kinecha crosses the floor of the cavern to get herself a nice hot mug of klah. Nodding to everyone in here, she includes the stranger at the food counter. After having poured her klah, she picks up a few meatrolls for her hungry firelizard and takes a seat at a table.

Nefertiti eyes the klah, and with a little shrug, attends her own needs by getting one mug of the beverage for herself.

Pyrene finds a seat within convenient range of food, fire and conversation. "So, what was your punishment, G'deon?" she wonders of the weyrling. "Giving Pia neckrubs?" She's caught the look in the girl's eyes. "Mind cutting me a few slices of that...?" she adds to Nefertiti and her meat, hesitating over whether or not she's supposed to know the girl's name.

Hiliza finally stops gnawing on her lip long enough to quietly attempt a subject-change, "So how has everyone been... aside from recent events?" Awkward smile is sent to include the new-girl-type person, and Hi' looks for somewhere to focus her attention. Now-cold ceral? Ew. No. Oh well.

Pia's eyes narrow, that cheerful gleam dimming into an expression of irritation. "You're so funny, Pyrene. Why don't you go on the road with some traders and provide entertainment?"

Nefertiti hmms and raises a brow, then sets to carving hunks of meat up. "I don't mind. Nefertiti. That's my name. Sorry, I should have introduced myself."

"Grounded for a sevenday," G'deon replies to Pyrene, "plus, whatever else the weyrlingmaster and assistants can think of." Never mind the new Charis-elements.

Pyrene hmms at Pia. "Tried that, didn't like traveling," she replies smoothly. "I was only wondering what you looked so pleased about." She shrugs, leaving the veiled question for now. "Nefertiti? I'm Pyrene... Are you new--Only for a sevenday, Gid? Hardly seems worth it!"

Nefertiti chops the meat with some experience and says rather pertly. "I'm not new, I've been around for turns, just not here. I'm late of the Avesti traders. Hunting scout." she pops some meat in her mouth. "And I ain' goin' back."

Kinecha breaks a meatroll in half, putting one half into her own mouth and the other down the maw of her chirping firelizard. "I know you like sweetrolls, 'Zulie," she says, mouth still halffull, "but you can't have 'em. You'll get fat!"

Hiliza hrms, "A sevenday isn't so bad.... and welcome Nef... Nefertiti," There, name right? , "That's a pretty name..." She smiles warmly and adds, "If you ever need anything.... I can probably get it for you..." She grins again and then motions for the girl to sit when she's finished. Hiliza adds, after a moment, "Though whatever the weyrlingmaster and assitants can think of could be pretty bad." Conversation flys from person to person... hopefully Hi's not being confusing.

"Well, a sevenday's grounding is all Lyri could think of at the time," G'deon offers.

Pyrene takes a fair helping of meat and manages to stretch for some bread despite the complaints of the lizards on her shoulders. Sandwich effectively procured, she ohhs at Nefertiti. "You're staying with us? Smart girl... see Pia? No life with traders." It's a generalisation and it sweeps. So sue. "Hiliza? Any redfruit juice to go with this?"

Nefertiti ticks off on her fingers with the knife. "AWfulyl kind of you. A bed, a bath, a meal, and some right to stay. I'd like to stay here a while until I find my feet."

Nefertiti finally sits, meal at the ready. Nefertiti murmurs "Traders...pah..."

Pyrene mms at Nefertiti. "They have their uses though... Why'd you leave them anyway? Just didn't like travelling?" That's good enough for Pyrene but she's vaguely aware she shouldn't just invite random strangers into the weyr open-armed. "I'll give Lyri some ideas for punishment, then should I Gid?"

Nefertiti swallows and swigs her klah. "Ah, I like the travelling well enough. Liked the hunting too. But there's something about those traders that rankles. That, and I'll be happy not to have to be bride to them. I don't care how far removed it was, I still don't want to 'fast my own cousin. He's got boils!"

Nefertiti grumbles into her meat again, skewring a hunk on her knife darkly. "Boils." she repeats, with a shudder.

Kinecha picks the green off her shoulder to let her feed herself, so she has her hands free for the klah-mug and the occational meatroll. She glances at Nefertiti as the girl sits, and finds herself a little intrigued by the former trader, being one herself.

G'deon smiles at Pyrene's comment and nods. "If you would, otherwise they'll make me do it."

Pyrene blinks at Nefertiti and repeats: "Boils? No.. you don't want to fast anybody with boils. And I'm sure I could think of something suitably exciting for you to do in penance, Gid." She eyes the table again and snags some redfruit slices and slips them into her sandwich.

Nefertiti grunts "besides, 's no life for someone my age, stuck with a boil-covered trader. I've hardly lived yet. Good job I got out while we were in 'Reaches, they'll never find me up here. Too many places to hide in the hills. And I'm old enough t'know the way and do what I want.

G'deon sighs melodramatically. "With my luck, Evan will come calling demanding I help the Smithcraft fix what we damaged," he says, not /quite/ teasing. "Under Lady Charis' supervision no less."

"I'd recommend hiding out in the weyr," Pyrene comments dryly. "It's one heck of a lot more comfortable. Warmer too at this time of year. So what are you going to do with your life now that you're not getting fasted?"

Kinecha nods in agreement with Nefertiti's comment. Her own story's not that much different, really. "How old are you, Nefertiti," she asks the girl, popping another piece of meatroll into her mouth.

[ChanLeftInForYourViewingPleasure] G'deon is in the LC. Come on down! You're the next contestant on "Beat Gid's Head in with a 2x4!"

[ChanLeftInForYourViewingPleasure] Cayl laughs and nods. Ooo, do you provide the 2x4?

Nefertiti spears more meat "Sixteenth last turnday. I'd been with traders for six turns. My ma, she was one o' them but fasted my da in lemos. Avesti do the north run, see? Lemos to Reaches and back in a turn. So I went awa' with them out of Lemos but they thought i'd be mighty fine of ol' boilchops and me got together. he were all for it. Nice enough lad, I like him, but I won't be in bed with a man who leaks on t'sheets from his neck"

Cayl silently, suavely, glides in from the Central Bowl.

Jaibyrd flows liquidly on olive wings in from the Central Bowl.

Cayl
Those eyes, piercing, livid, alive with -flavor-! Slowly shifting from dark gray towards a rich gray-blue over the turns, they stare out over the world masterfully. A mask of confidence, an appeal of excitement, their glossy film gives a taste of the ever shifting soul of the girl without. Classically narrowed at the edges, they front a well-formed, feminine face of high cheekbones and thin lips. Pouty eyebrows crown these windows to the heart, thick but not overwhelming. No freckles, nor wrinkles, mar this youthful face at the peek of its glamour, though all is not perfect. Her nose is perhaps a little unshapely, bluntly tipped and noticeably out of proportion with her smallish face. Mocha cream skin stretches tight over her lithe form, pulled taunt by her growing turns. Around 5'7, the blooming teenager has outgrown her childish chub. Her hips have formed, not hour-glassing, though definitely apparent, and her chest has noticeably taken shape. While not a fashion model, nor buxom beauty, her hands carry a soft touch, skilled and well practiced. In a very recent, unself-proclaimed adjustment to features, her hair has been cut short: Very short, in a boyish, uneven bob that curls in every-which-direction. Most notable is the highly fluorescent rose-bud gleam that shines off of its once dark brown/ebon hues.
Apple green, as fresh as spring plucked, drips over every curve of new leather, every inch of unused yet shapely stitch. Juicy, almost savory to the touch beneath and at the edges of the jacket, velvety purple adds warm padding and a tender feel. Several pockets of a more jungle emerald hold items just above the base hem. Brown freckles pools about the shoulders and across the neckline of the woolly shirt beneath the flavorful jacket. Almost plain compared to the rest of the outfit, its saving grace remains the rich twist of flowered vine which decorates the front and back sparsely. Part of the ensemble, gloves of the deepest, soul-luring black leather cover her hands. Dark, dark sanguine marks the cloth of her pants, at rival only with the rich locks of hair resting against her shoulders. Windbreaking, heat locking leather seems to be the theme of this outfit. Resting comfortably upon Cayl's shoulder, tail tightly curled around the neck is Kryll. Perched on Cayl's shoulder is Genre.
Two twists of thick cord twine around eachother, echoing hues of alternating sapphire and sable which stay true to High Reaches coloring. Pinned carefully around her right shoulder, the double-corded, single looped, otherwise plain knot is precisely made. A short tail trails down the front side, deep deep blue in color. A single, long thread of pure cobalt embeds itself deeply around the cords, the true-color of lifemate: Cayl is a Sr. Weyrling to Blue Mzadith at High Reaches.
She is awake and looks alert.
Cayl is 19 Turns, 6 months, and 25 days old.

Aten glides in from the Central Bowl.

Pyrene's eyes cross briefly at the image that /that/ conjures up. "And now what are you going to do?" she repeats absently, considering the new taste of her sandwich.

Nefertiti sighs a little. "No idea. Bin three days now an' I'm stumped. Look fer another train maybe, or hire out on the tithes. It'd be nice to have a roof a sevenday or so though"

Kinecha shrugs, "I been travelling most my life," she comments, not volunteering any more information on that count. "I came here last Turn when my father died."

S'tud walks in, just as G'deon is coming up with ideas for his own punishment. "That's a /really/ good idea," the older rider says scathingly. "In fact, seeing as I was the one fool enough to escort you down to Ista, Muffinth and I are on escort duty for the next month, I'm sure I could stop by the Smith Crafthall and let Evan know..."

Nefertiti cocks her head at Kinecha. "Aye? Which train were y'on?"

G'deon winces visibly at the other bronzerider, though he doesn't seem to be in much of a mood to contradict him. Instead, "Cayl!" he shouts out. May as well get /all/ his punishment over with.

Pyrene skips over her reasons for coming here since they were decidedly thin ones. "Well, feel free to hang around here as long as you like. It being spring, we tend to lose a few people who stopped over for wintering, so we've got the space right now." She sighs and removes the redfruit. "Cravings can /not/ be forced," she informs the cavern in disappointment.

Cayl stomps her way into the caverns, doing more footwork then befits trying to shake the snow off her boots. Eyes narrowed to fiery slits, shoulders squared, and hand raised absently digging into the back of her neck. Itchy itchy, grumpy. Hearing the exact voice she wanted to hear, she snaps her eyes towards G'deon. Now, wether to yell at him out loud or take this to a more discreet location. And of course: The weyrling strides across the cavern, straight towards G'deon. "What in the /shards/ did you think you were doing?" No explanation to what 'thing' she was talking about. None needed possibly.

Nefertiti chews down another lump of meat "That's right generous. I'd like that. I got to do my share of work I expect? Need a hunter?"

Kinecha shrugs at the girl, looking into her mug, "well, can't exactly say that I was on any train," she mumbles. Her father's band hadn't really been traders as such.

Nylanth> R'sli stalks across the Bowl, his face a mask of white fury. "Where are they?" he asks R'ave in a terrible voice. "Are they in there?" He jerks a finger at the Living Caverns.

Pyrene shrugs one shoulder. "We get tithed all the meat we need, although if you're good with preparation you can help in the kitchens. Or for hunting you can keep track of tunnelsnakes. We've no candidates for the moment to feed them and they're getting restless." Her eyes drift with interest to the G'deon/Cayl scene. "My mark's on Cayl," she mutters.

G'deon quickly jumps to his feet, facing Cayl head on. "Good morning, Cayl," he says, trying one of those sickeningly suave smiles.

Nylanth> Mzadith paces restlessly near the caverns entrance, eyes whirling near crimson in agitation and all friendly manner forgotten. He's more then just a /little/ edgy. He's wanting to get in there and stomp on G'deon's shadow, he is.

Nefertiti snorts "I can hunt snakes i suppose, but I'm a good butcher. If you need kitche help, you have it. Woman's work, Avesti call it, so I spent all day catching the meat and all evening cooking it."

Nylanth> R'ave ducks slightly, trying to contain a leer. Um. "They -- I'm guessing you mean the infamous, gather attending Tatia and G'deon?" His eyes glitter innocently. "I know Gid's in there, not so sure about Tat -- she might be in hiding." Though he doesn't blame her.

Nylanth> Nylanth is still humbly crouching /far/ from the door. He promised not to go inside, see...

Nylanth> R'sli nods, and leaves the bronzerider safe and standing. He's not the one who's being sought. "Thanks." He starts to enter the Caverns, then turns. "You might want to cover your ears," he offers helpfully. "This isn't going to be pretty." And with that, he stalks into the Living Caverns.

R'sli walks in from the Central Bowl.

Woman's work! Kinecha thinks. At least her father had never had her do that. "You could become a guard," she says advocating her own line of work, "you look like you could handle it."

R'sli
Before you stands a remarkable young man, shrewd and easy-going as a result of his tinker birth. Coal-black hair brushes the very top of his violet eyes, retreating into a tight trim 'round the sides and back. A pair of silver-framed spectacles with small, round lenses perch on his nose, making that violet gaze a bit more intense. Not the biggest rider in the Weyr, his 5'7 frame is tightly packed with ropy muscles. As he catches your gaze, he offers a lopsided grin, leaving the urge to count your teeth to be sure he hasn't charmed any away. Oh yeah. He's one to watch out for, all right.
R'sli wears a linen shirt, dyed royal blue, tucked loosely into black wherhide pants that hug his thighs and disappear into calf-high black boots. Coiled around R'sli's neck is Stanzi.
He is awake and looks alert.
R'sli is 27 Turns, 11 months, and 3 days old.

Ninyo blinks in from ::between::!

Sonata dances on the air in from the Central Bowl.

Rank downright doesn't matter at this point. As soon as Cayl reaches G'deon her hand raises and snaps around to plant a nice, plumpy red mark right on G'deon-dear's sickeningly suave face. This action is followed very quickly by: "How /could/ you! You let that shell-shocked dragon of yours tear up Ista! You stupid wherry! If I had any means I'd demote you to drudge and slap your dragon back in his shell!" She continues up a nice lengthy speech about on these lines, her entire face flushed stark red. Outside the call of a blue dragon gyrates Cayl's nerves onward. She just slapped G'deon. Oh dear.

Nefertiti pauses "A guard? Me?" she blinks at that as if it never occured. "You sure?"

"It's a safer job than nannying," Pyrene notes. "You'll have to speak to Damia or Michel though. The kitchen's are their domain." She jumps as Cayl slaps G'deon and shakes her head in amusement. And then she spots R'sli and quietens, muttering under her breath: "Check that... put my mark on Ris."

R'sli enters, withdrawing a crumpled piece of hide from his pocket. Despite the scene transpiring, he manages to become the focal point of the room, as conversation dies around him. "Where are they?" he thunders, looking around. "Where are G'deon and Tatia?"

G'deon stumbles backwards a step, nearly tripping over the chair he'd just left. Needless to say, the smile is long gone. No words needed though, he just stands there and lets Cayl continue, as is her right. However, as the Weyrlingmaster appears behind Cayl, his eyes widen. Now's the time to really be afraid.

Nefertiti thinks very carefully. "I'll consider it. Guarding sounds like it might involve a lot of stuff that is quite dull. Standing about and drill and stuff...but...well, 's better than trading"

Kinecha nods, "I should think so," she says, but her attention is quickly drawn to Cayl and G'deon, and whatever it was they're arguing about.

R'sli spots the red-faced bronzerider, and jabs a finger at the senior-for the moment- weyrling. "You," he says in that terrible voice. "Front and center!" he barks, training ground voice ringing in the dome of the cavern. "Now!"

Sonata just huffs right in after R'sli. The little gold flizard has been stalking around the weyr all day ever since she finished delivering the letters from the Hold. The little beast mirrors her owner's outrage - and being nearly proddy doesn't help her temperment much. All riders recieve a fly-bit berating before the Istan firelizard settles to sulking in a near-by crevice.

Nefertiti cleans her dagger and puts it away. "Do I get a uniform then?"

Cayl doesn't notice the weyrlingmaster. She's all set to slap G'deon again, and throw in a few cat-scratches if at all possible. Of course, the state her dragon's in may /just/ be effecting her at the moment. That's not all though: You get the added bonus of Nylanth nearly 'destroying' her old home. "Get that dragon out of here! Just go. Go to Fort! That's where you and that creature belong!" However, her words screech to a stop, mouth left hanging open as she hears R'sli. Head quickly turns, though even R'sli won't be spared her spiteful glare.

Pyrene bites her lips and cringes in her chair. Fond as she always has been of Ris, she's never been able to keep her poise when he's in a temper. "Guarding..." she says mechanically to Nefertiti. "That's good too. They give you weapons to keep off the brats..." She doesn't even notice Sonata although Kernow rouses herself to chirr firmly back at the visiting gold.

Nefertiti grins at Pyrene lopsidedly "A herdbeast prod and a net? Or is that nanny equpiment?"

Hunter watches the whole scene with a grisly amusement, his attention drawn for a short while to the proddy queen.

"Huh?" Kinecha says, her attention being elsewhere at the moment. She nods at the girl, "yeah, you get a uniform. And you get to break up fight like that," she nods to the riders, "that is when the weyrlingmaster isn't around."

G'deon ducks unconsciously as R'sli begins, but the weyrling wastes no time in hurrying over to the spot indicated... right in the middle of the cavern. Anything to get away from the violent blue weyrling.

With a back crunching stretch, Nefertiti leans backwards "Well, who do I talk to? I like to cook, don' get me wrong, but guarding...it's more me, don't you think.?" She eyes the fight "I thought riders were more controlled?"

Pyrene sighs ruefully. "Nannies don't get equipment... Not unless they Impress." She pulls Kernow onto her shoulder and soothes the other lizards into red-eyed vigilance rather than squeaking challenges as they were threatening. "Cayl..." she hisses at the blue weyrling, trying to get the bluerider's attention to tell her to be discreet without getting /herself/ noticed. Nobody ever said that life was easy.

Hynolonie arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

Areiah arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

R'sli circles G'deon for a long moment, his boots ringing as he paces. "I," he says, tugging at the collar of his shirt, "have just spent the better part of three candlemarks with the weyrleaders. Most of the time I was listening to how two of /my/ weyrlings," he stops, and glares at G'deon for a moment, drawing his face close to the lad's, "nearly destroyed one of the Major Holds." He stops, and folds his arms across his chest. "I said, 'not my group. They're top-flight.' And that's when the Weyrwoman handed me /this/." The hide is shoved under G'deon's nose, so that the seal of Ista is plainly visible. "Explanation," Ris strangles out. "Now."

Kinecha chuckles. Riders? Controlled? Her eyes glitter with an amused light. "Well, you should proberbly talk with Tafne. The captain's usually pretty busy. I'm afraid I can't recruit you," she says, even if that's what she did. "I'm only a recruit myself.."

Sonata really isn't in the mood to deal with squeaking /weyr/ firelizards. Kernow and the rest get a rather vehmenent hiss as the gold fans her wings. Which is probably the only reason G'deon isn't getting dressed down by the hissy gold as well.

Nefertiti gives out a bright smile. "Thanks." she says genuinely. "After a couple of nights out in this locale, I was prepared to do anything. What is this row about?" she looks at the commotion. "Destroyed a hold? Egg's Dregs!"

At the mention of weyrleaders and such, Areiah hangs back, lurking near the entrance to the caverns. Just to catch up on the conversation, you understand. Timidity has nothing to do with it - not today. Gaze lingers on R'sli, skipping between weyrlingmaster and weyrlings. Ahem. "Lonie, over here, please," she says softly, hand dropping to the girl's shoulder, squeezing gently.

Kinecha shrugs: First /she's/ heard about it.

Cayl hears R'sli. But oh how she wants to tear into G'deon. Tear right into that fleshy and... Weyrling shakes her head, still very much flushed, and looks towards Pyrene. "What?" She asks harshly, no please, thank you, or ma'am about it. No, with R'sli here she couldn't get a peice of G'deon. But maybe Pyrene was volunteering? She glances towards the door. "Yes. We do need to go." And get Tatia. She looks back to Pyrene, perhaps slightly more calmed.

Hynolonie runs into the living caverns. She skids to a loud stop as Areiah grabs her should, and she finally gets a good view of the room. Her eyes narrow with attention and interest, as her hand reaches up to take the sweetroll from her mouth so she can chew the bite she tore off earlier. a second sweetroll makes a stick mess of her other hand, breakfast being in the middle of being eaten.

G'deon squares his shoulders once more, eyes straight ahead, the perfect position to see none other than the Weyr's senior Weyrwoman walk in. A cloud of doom seems to settle over Gid's features. Eyes are forced to focus on R'sli's for the moment however as the bronzeling clears his throat, mind racing. "We... we were dancing, sir." Assumably the weyrlings. "And..." here that usually steady baritone cracks for a brief moment, "the dragons wanted to join in. I don't know who went in first," the green trapped /inside/ the Hold perhaps? "But, Nylanth got stuck." There, yes. All of Pern knows anyway.

Pyrene throws Areiah a wry look and just puts her finger to her lips for Cayl's benefit. Never get in the way of a flaming R'sli. The man's terrifying. At this rate, Nefertiti will be able to get a job cleaning G'deon off the walls, floor and ceiling.

Nefertiti seems unterrified. Just bemused. This isn't the weyr life SHE has been told about

"I'm so sorry," Ris offers in a tone that's anything but. "Has Catia had a look at him?" Sarcasm drips from the air, and R'sli leans closer. "And why didn't either of you think to /stop/ these dancing dragons?" he asks, that tone growing more quiet and more deadly as he talks. "I mean, there were probably a thousand people in that Hold. What if one of them got hurt? Or killed? Is that how dragonmen treat the people of Pern?" His violet eyes are now a deep navy--almost black with anger.

Hiliza goes home.

Quiet? But why should she be quiet? Another glance is sent towards R'sli. But seeee, she could /help/ with this crusade against G'deon and Tatia. However, something on R'sli's face seems to seep in, and Cayl hushes. "Wait. Tatia. He hasn't gotten to Tatia yet." Which means, more for Cayl to tear up before the weyrlingmaster could find them. "Find her Mzadith." She hisses as she storms for the door. Mzadith would be more then eager to find Vespurath. She's green after all.

"Nylanth is alright, sir," G'deon informs the Weyrlingmaster, tone carefully neutral, carefully cool, almost not squeaking. "We... didn't notice," he then adds, face already ashen with that one mistake by itself. Then "No sir," comes the last reply, even quieter than the first two.

Nefertiti watches the scene unfold, idly yanking the tats out of her hair. "What happened?" she hisses to her newfound companions, possibly a little louder than she first intended

Aztek winks in from ::between::, a harsh sun of bronze spreading below him.

Pyrene opens her mouth hesitant to intervene and finally muttering quietly: "Even weyrling dragons aren't that careless of people's safety, Ris... They wouldn't have done it if there had been people being dangerous..." She's not sticking her neck out for G'deon though. It's not worth it. She gives Nefertiti a quiet shake of her head: "Dragonriders are a volatile bunch," she mutters. "It's a bit of trouble with Ista hold. Kernow tells me that's the Lady Holder's gold lizard there." The one Kernow's keeping rubied eyes on.

Nefertiti makes a little 'o' out of her mouth "Best keep my nose out of it then, I suppose. Sharding strange thing to walk in on, all the same."

Kinecha nods slowly. Yeah better stay back. Unless they start beating up on each other, or worse..

Sonata simply bares her teeth in another irate hiss as she hops back and forth along her perch. Faceted eyes whirl a dangerous mix of angered red amid proddy-tinged violet, no happy 'lizard here.

Areiah snorts, presumably in response to Pyrene's act of bravery. And that's all she does, really. This one's a spectator event - for now. Besides, R'sli's saying everything she wanted to, anyway.

Nefertiti clears her throat, catching the vibes even through her fatigue and skin like a dragon's rump. "So..." she says, pleasantly. "Where do I clean up or something?"

R'sli eyes the weyrling, then regards Pyrene with an acid gaze. "You and Tatia are, of course, grounded to the Weyr until graduation," he says to G'deon in a weary tone. All the yelling has worn him out. "And in addition to that, you're assigned to elevator duty, and relieved of your fighting rider status till then, as well. You and Nylanth and Tatia and Vespurath can fill sacks and load dragons as well. Perhaps keeping busy will give you more time with your dragons and less time to lead them into trouble." The fury returns a bit, and he chokes, turning to a nearby drudge. "Wine," he strangles, then sits heavily, his face no longer pinched with fury, but rather drawn with some unreadable emotion.

Hynolonie bites her lip as she continues to watch. Some how, she's afraid to talk now. Her big gray eyes blink a few times, almost misting over with tears. Was it that she felt bad for G'deon, or that she was simply terrified at the transformation that had overtaken R'sli. Her expression seemed torn, but she remained standing there, watching. She understood why people were angry, but the anger made her scared. She pulled away from her mother, and began to inch her way towards a table.

Cayl exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

G'deon takes in the list of punishments without even a blink of the eye. "Understood," he replies quietly, eyes still straight ahead even as R'sli sits. This surely can't be the end of it... that cloud of doom is still looming.

Pyrene studies R'sli with nervous sympathy, sipping her juice as she regains her poise--helped significantly by the presence of her dragon in her head. "Anyway..." she says, voice thin in the regaining silence of the room. "Areiah? Nefertiti's going to be staying with us for awhile. Might become a guard if she can get hold of Tafne or someone." And Pyrene's 99% sure this one isn't an axe-murderer.

R'sli sits up straight. "Just to make sure, you and Tatia can scrape all the old hides in my office, then write a letter of apology to Lady Charis, Areiah, myself, and the Weyrleader's Conclave, explaining that you were flayed alive for your actions, and that you will conduct yourselves in manners more befitting a dragonrider of this Weyr." He sighs. "We're not Telgar, G'deon. We can't just do whatever takes us at the moment."

Nefertiti stands and dusts off her rather mud-spotted garb. "My duty to you, then. It's a pleasure to be here. And I might be a guard. Have to see where I'm needed." she actually bobs a little, as near to a curtsey as you can get in tight black wehrhide

G'deon lifts a hesitant hand to the knot at his shoulder, bright new cords still gleaming in the light. "Should I," he begins, voice quavering slightly, "leave this with you," he asks, eyes dropping to the side to glance at R'sli. At the mention of the hides, he nods, but at the mention of Telgar his jaw sets noticeably, eyes once blue turned a cold steely grey. "Aye, sir."

What? You mean you /aren't/ going to flay him? Sonata seems disappointed. The firelizard huffs and issues a long string of chittered unrepeatables at all gathered riders for the umpteenth time. The dragons /did/ crack one of Sonata's favorite perches in the hall, the nerve.

99%, eh? That's comforting. "Sure thing, Py," Areiah lilts, edging her way toward R'sli and dropping, uninvited, into the seat beside him. "Welcome to High Reaches, Nefertiti; it's not always like this, I promise." Wow. A curtsy. Impressive stuff. It even brings a little bit of a smile. "There are a few empty cots in the dorms - down the hall, and off to the right. The baths are off to the left, and everything else, well, I'm sure you'll get your bearings soon enough." Helpful, huh?

Rei turns a darkly bronzen head to the chittering firelizard. He hops over to the next nearest perch and tries his best to issue comforting warbles, not quite understanding the contexts.

R'sli waves a hand. "I'm not going to demote you," he says. "You've done well to this point, and there's no need to humiliate you further. I think watching your wing rise and fight without you for the next month is far more suitable." He motions to a nearby table. "Go, sit and eat, then report to my office to collect those hides."

Nefertiti beams thankfully. "If I told you how much I needed a bath I'd not have time to take it this turn. And I've not got anything with me to stow. Actually," she looks embarrased "I've not got any other clothes. No, y'know. Bedthings. Underthings and stuff. I din' plan well, see?"

Hynolonie crawls under a table and just sits there for a while before leaning forward and pressing her face against the tablecloth. it moves just slightly enough so she can see outside. Well, she guesses she won't be scraping those hides now. Herlips purse for a moment and she sighs, making the tablecloth ruffle.

"And don't trust anything a brat tells you," Pyrene adds for nothing, eyes still watching R'sli, and waiting to see what he will do with the offer of Gid's knot. A soft smile breaks across her face as he lets him keep it. "Of course," she mutters. "It's how we teach people around here." Kernow is still stiff on her shoulder, but slowly relaxing to her normal stressed-looking state.

Rei just recieves a withering glare from the pert gold. She's proddy. He's male. That alone makes him shun-worthy. The fact that his humanpet is that...../rider's/ makes him just downright evil. A sharp berating and a snap of the jaws is sent from where Sonata's perched 'fore the moody firelizard goes back to her sulking.

From R'sli's shoulder, Stanzi raises her sleepy head to regard the interchange on the walls with interest. Oh. A visiting gold, all shiny and peeved and proddy. Creeling softly, she bids the angry gold welcome, then curls back to sleep on her quivering perch.

Eyebrows go up, and Areiah leans back, examining Nefertiti a little closer. "Hmm. Could you turn around? I think you and I might be about the same size.." Even amidst all the grumpyness, the little weyrwoman can, in fact, be sympathetic. Depending on the person, of course.

G'deon nods sharply to the Weyrlingmaster, eyes still cold from the obvious insult just previous. He loosens up slightly... maybe half a degree or so, and eyes scan the caverns slowly. As eyes meet each those of each person assembled however, many of them friends, the bronzeling is obviously beginning to crack as he perceives disappointment in each returning gaze. "I apologize to you all," he says, low voice easily carrying in the still cavern. "And I intend to make this up to you, to the entire Weyr, and Hold if possible." With that, the young man looks up and calls to a little blue firelizard, then heads for the door.

Desyana arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

Desyana quietly helps herself to some klah while she checks out the other occupants in the cavern. sighs with releif when she realizes the young rider she ahd the conflict with is /not/ here.

Pyrene's eyes are sympathetic at least. She's been in Gid's shoes before. Not in front of Ris at least, but... Desyana gets a tight smile of greeting, before she nerves herself to offer Ris some cream-puffs. "Want one, Ris? The drudges keep sticking them in front of me. Lis has given all pregnant women a reputation."

Doooooooom arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

Tatia slips in from the Central Bowl.

R'sli seems to be calmer, until Tatia appears. Rising, he points at the greenrider, and barks out, "Tatia! Front and center! Now!" Never mind who's around. That crumpled piece of hide in his hand can't be a good omen.

Desyana sighs and looks for a way out. Drat, that rider woman/girl would ahve to arrive just now. All she wanted was a mug of klah and some peace. Well, maybe if she just stays in the shadows, she won't be noticed.

Pyrene grimaces. "Here we go again..." she offers the cream puffs to Areiah instead and prepares to watch the display with Tatia this time.

Bryony arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

G'deon stops near the entrance, face to face with Tatia. A roguish grin sneaks it's way onto his face, well hidden from R'sli, but as the said Weyrlingmaster resumes his barking, the bronzeling, turns, giving Tatia ample room to stand front and center. "After you, dear."

Tatia strides into the Cavern's without bothering to take note of the occupants first... perhaps not the best of ideas. Her head whips upward at the sound of her name.. barked, even. Ow. Eyes go wide, then narrow as they focus on R'sli.. but somehow she manages to actually keep her feet going in the proper direction. Her gaze flickers to G'deon on as they pass, and she manages a weak smile before moving forward.. to stand, as ordered, front and center, shoulders set resolutely.

Kinecha had only just turned her attention back to her cooling klah as Tatia enters the cavern, and her attention is once again drawn away from her refreshment.

Hynolonie wrinkles her nose and slides back further under the table, not even wanting to watch this one. She sighs.. and covers her ears, and closes her eyes, wanting to fall asleep again.

Nefertiti does a little turn for Areiah, embarrased "I'm sorry, I really didn't expect to end up in this situaton."

Bryony enters the cavern, raising her eyebrows at the number of people present, and helps herself to a hot mugful of klah.

R'sli regards the greenrider with a nostalgic smile. "Do you remember, Tatia, the first time I searched you out of Hall and home?" he asks, sipping the glass of wine the ever-present Ella brings him. "Remember that? About three turns ago?"

Auroriel blinks in from ::between::!

New Target spotted! Tatia is given a vocal screech and string of chitters from Sonata from where the irate Istan gold firelizard is perched, wings fanned. Yes, it's the messanger-flit that just wouldn't go /away/.

Ooh. Creampuffs? Stretching, Areiah plucks one from the tray. "Thanks," she murmurs to Pyrene, taking a bite. Oh, purr. "Oh, these are /good/! Oh - wow, we really are close, Nefertiti." Though if Areiah keeps munching those creampuffs.. ahem. "See me after things calm down here, a little, and we'll see what we can do about getting you some clothes and such." A pause, and then: "And no apologies, either. I'm sure it's not your fault." There, then.

Tatia's gaze wavers just a bit as she regards R'sli suspiciously. This isn't quite what she was expecting... "Um.. yes, I remember..." The words barely make it beyond that spot in her throat where they yearn to stick, but somehow she manages. Her hands clasp together in front of her defensively, as if they could block whatever might be coming next.

Rei leers at Sonata... leeringly. He croons once or twice, still not understanding the flights of anger. They got the dragons out after all, didn't they?

Desyana eyes narrow, oh.. is the little spitfire in trouble? Good, serves her right for all her rudeness to strangers.

Nefertiti turns and smiles, cheeks still slightly pink. "I know I should have planned it better. I made sure I had my knife and hardwearing boots, and totally forgot underwear. You must think me a total idiot"

R'sli smiles widely. "That was a lovely night, wasn't it?" he asks in a mild tone. "The moons were bright, and the air was crisp. Do you remember the first time you saw my Zaqith, Tatia?" he continues, staring into space and shaking his head. "You were so amazed. Do you remember that?"

"Got the same blush too," Pyrene notes of Nefertiti and Areiah. She watches R'sli in trepidation. Any moment now he's going to explode. There's a kind of fascination in her gaze.

Tatia isn't letting her guard down.. she remembers /last/ night just as cleary as the one Ris is speaking of.. and if Lyri wasn't happy then, she has no reason to believe the weyrlingmaster feels any differently. Still regarding him carefully, she dips her head in an ever-so-slow nod. "Yeeeessss..." she draws out catiously.

R'sli chuckles. "Do you remember where she was?" he asks, the tension in the room seeming to mount as his smile grows tighter.

Sonata swivels her darting head to give Rei another snap and hiss. She's proddy, she's upset she's cold, she's in a place full of the.../beasts/ that ruined her favorite perch! Not to mention now the hold's now been invaded by Smiths and workers, it's just too much for a poor gold to take.

Nefertiti grins and fidgets some "I wasn't thinking straight. Decided to leave that boil-encrusted cousin and that took half a skin of cheap red. But I can make me own clothes if I gets the chance. I only need something for a night or two."

G'deon leans as casually as he can next to the entrance to the Bowl. He's not missing this. No shardin' way. A passing drudge offers him a glass which he takes and downs without looking, though a dribble of red liquid trickles slowly down his chin before he can wipe it away angrily. And ask for another glass of course.

"Umm..." Wait.. now you're asking Tatia to remember /details/.. on a night when she was focused on not having to explain the stars. "In the courtyard?" she tries. Good a guess as any.

Desyana grins at her discomfort. Sayn may not know what's going on, but anything that has this upstart so miserable looking can't be all bad.

R'sli applauds lightly. "In the courtyard! Very good!" he nods, his grin turning lopsided right before it melts completely away. "The /courtyard/. Not the main entrance to the Hold, which is where I understand your dragon was found during Ista's Gather!" he thunders at last, the storm breaking across his face. "What on Pern were you thinking? I'd better see some fast talking," he says poisonously, "And I had better like what I hear." Though he hasn't so far....

Rei hops a bit closer to the proddy gold. He's just trying to comfort her really, though the bronze does keep glancing down at his humanpet from time to time.

Kinecha blinks as the weyrlingmaster finally breaks into the rage she'd seen him in when confronting G'deon.

Pyrene winces. He exploded. So did the cream puff she was about to eat, cream oozing between her fingers that clenched reflexively at Ris' words. She busies herself with licking cream from her hands--the firelizards do most of the work and exchanging rueful glances with others in the room.

Nefertiti winces and closes her eyes. What a day to arrive

Rei ain't much brighter than his humanpet, is he? Sonata issues another snip and flap of the wings from her spot. Golden hide fairly /glows/...whether from anger or proddiness, is anyone's guess.

Desyana chuckles, and then puts a ahnd to her mouth. Better not be heard just yet. She is really enjoying this and doesn't want to be dismissed from the confrontation.

And here it comes... Tatia winces slightly, and that gaze that she's so valiantly kept on R'sli's face slides down to focus somewhere in the vicinity of his boots. Ooops. How did she not see this one? "Well, she /was/ in the Gather Square with Akilth when I /left/ to go..." she begins, hands gesturing through the air as she attempts to explain her point. At the question, however, her eyes whip upward again, and this time they're flashing. "Hey!" she protests shortly, voice holding just a hint of anger at the accusation. "/I/ wasn't thinking anything! I was /dancing/! Vespurath just kinda... came /in/. How was I supposed to know that she wasn't still outside talking to Akilth? I /told/ her she wouldn't fit!" And she did, too. Her backbone stiffens as her hands fall to her sides. This is /not/ Tat's fault. It's Vespurath's. Really.

Rei finally gives up, with one last glance at the visiting gold. He has other things to worry about, whether more important or not is unclear. Humanpet is eyed cautiously.

Nefertiti backs off and sits down again, taking up her mug of klah and peering into the dark recess there with interest. Nice beverage. Blessed liquid. Not at all embarrasing or anything. What a nice place to put eyes whe there's nowhere else they could go at the moment.

Kinecha's eyes dart from Tatia to R'sli and back again awaiting the weyrlingmasters reaction to the 'ling's explanation.

R'sli jabs a finger at Tatia. "It's your /job/ to know where your lifemate is!" he thunders, Tatia's bravado stoking his temper. "It's the most important thing you /can/ know!" He begins circling Tatia much like he did G'deon, hands waving as he begins. "For the love of Faranth, did you even listen at all the first week of weyrlinghood? You knew that your dragons weren't fully mature, and that certain activities can cause confusion for them. Didn't you?" The question is like the crack of a whip, stinging Tatia and G'deon at the same time.

Oh, dear. Nefertiti rises and looks highly like she wish she'd never come. "Which way to the baths you say?" she asks.

Pyrene is stung herself and her mind obediently stretches out to check on Cadgwith's whereabouts. Suddenly she's glad that D'renn in absentia was her Weyrlingmaster.

Tatia's backbone stiffens just a bit more, if such a thing is possible, and her chin inches its way upward. "I /knew/ where she was... " she begins once more, twisting her head around to stare hardly at R'sli. "She just.. moved." The second is a bit sheepish, and in some notion of self-preservation she whips her head back around to the front. "Yes." She barely admits it.. but she does. Just don't try to get her to admit that she /knew/ Vesp wanted to go inside to the dance...

At that comment something odd happens to Sayn's expression.. all spirit drains from her face and she looks to be in quite a bit of pain. Yes, they may fly but theya re still so immmature. She rememebrs.

G'deon sips a bit more carefully at his glass of wine. No need to get in even more trouble today. Still, he seems to be waiting for something.

Sonata just echos each of R'sli's statements with a self-righteous angery chitter of her own - You tell 'em, bub.

"Off to the left," Areiah repeats, for Nefertiti's benefit, smiling a little. "Don't worry," she adds in a sotto voice. "Normally, it's peaceful here." Okay, so that's not exactly true, but didn't it /sound/ reassuring?

Rei can't quite seem to keep himself quiet. They just wanted to dance after all. Tiny head turns back to the scolding gold. What, doesn't /she/ like to dance?

So peaceful you can hear an avalanche.

"And yet you chose to forgo that information, and dance the night away, while your dragons tried to rip down the Hall around you?" R'sli spits, his face reddening. "Is this how your Teachings told you dragonmen behave, Tatia? You /do/ remember your teachings, I assume." Something about the way the girl sticks up for herself seems to inspire Ris to new heights of fury.

Nefertiti blinks at Areiah "Peaceful?" she boggles. "I thought dragons were safe! This doesn't sound too safe..."

Maybe. But when /Sonata/ dances, she doesn't destroy Great Halls with a single step. The belligerent gold just give another sulking grump towards the persistent bronze.

"If I'd /known/ she was coming in the hall, I would have /left/," Tatia spits out as red creeps up to spread across her face. Oh my. She really should learn to think before she speaks. "I didn't /mean/ for her to go in the hold.. I /told/ her to stay with Akilth." Those hands that rest by her side are now curling into fists, though she's smart enough to not use them.. right? Tat's never been a good one for authority. Difference was, she could get away with it in the StarCraft.

Pyrene admires R'sli's new heights of fury. "Oh, this is perfectly safe," she assures Nefertiti. "We can't actually /kill/ each other because of the dragons."

Nefertiti swallows nervously. "No, maybe not, but what about those of us who don't have them? I'd rather fast pus-face than spend my life gored, thanks very much."

Kinecha's attention is now fully devoted to Tatia and the way she's talking back at R'sli, wondering what would happen next, and hoping it wouldn't be too violent.

R'sli actually loses the ability to speak, his face turning a deep mauve as he struggles to form words. "You....sp...gah...." He motions to G'deon, and points at the offending weyrling. "You...tekk...pubishma..." Well, they almost sound like words, but heaven help anyone who laughs at Ris' current plight.

Siannen walks in from the Central Bowl.

More seriously, now: "Dragons are perfectly safe when they and their lifemates are acting with care. Occasionally, however, they slip up." And boy howdy, when they slip up, all of Pern hears about it. "The 'riders currently under fire are still learning. They're the weyrlingmaster's responsibility, right now." A left-handed dig at R'sli? In /his/ condition? Would Areiah do something like that? Never.

Pyrene winces. "Actually, I think somebody'd better find Catia... Ris is going to have a heart attack at this rate..." she mutters. Nefertiti goes unreassured about her chances. Areiah gets stared at. Girl's suicidal, Bryth or no Bryth.

Nefertiti fiddles with her tangled hair. "If it's all the same I'll stay nervous a while? I'm perfectly brave when the offending animal is twice my bodyweight. Much more than that and I tend to spook easily."

Tatia isn't quite sure how to respond to that.. but she somehow manages to pick up on the anger in the lack of words (imagine that) and continues to glare at R'sli, tightening those fists until her knuckles turn white. Her gaze flickers toward G'deon briefly, and her glare softens as a brow raises - /What/ is going on? - before settling back into the familiarity and safety of a vehement glare. At least she's not stupid enough to remark on his lack of sensical language.

G'deon languidly pushes himself off from the wall and walks towards R'sli and Tatia, glass sloshing a bit, though managing not to spill. He stops silently beside the Weyrlingmaster and fellow Weyrling, a thoughtful look given the wine still left before he also downs that. Eyes find Tatia's, and the rogue in him replaces any logic. "We're grounded until we graduate," he begins, voice calm... a little too calm. "We can't leave 'Reaches, we can't even fight," at this the bronzeling glances at R'sli. "Though how that seems like a good idea is beyond me." Returning to the greenling. "We're on elevator duty, firestone duty, cargo duty... you get the point."

Desyana can't help but feel just a bit justified in seeing this snippet of a rider getting in trouble. She just knew her impudence would bring her to grief, just from that one run-in in the baths.

Hynolonie
A simple skeleton of thin bones covered with wiry muscle make up this pale little girl. What might have been an uninteresting physic is made unforgettable by a pair of large ash gray eyes that reflect blue on clear days. Her skin is the color of parchment and looks as if it had been stretched tight over her round face. Soft mousy brown curls that have escaped the twin braids now soften the edges of her little face. She has a small button nose that looks even smaller over her wide mouth of thin lips. A delicate jaw hovers over her thin neck and shoulders, accenting the arch that her long braids usually make as they rest upon her shoulders.
Snowy white llama's wool is knitted tightly into a warm tunic that covers Lonie from the double folded collar, to the dirt smeared cuffs that cling to her thin wrists. Soft creme colored trous cover her legs, the knees slightly darker than the rest of the fabric, from constantly being knelt on. A shirt of wool lined leather draps around her waist and across her thighs, down to her ankles. A long slit that runs from top to bottom lets the youngen run as freely as she pleases. Thick wherhide boots cover her feet and ankles. Lonie's Bag hangs loosely over Hynolonie's shoulder. Perched on Hynolonie's shoulder is Shardin.
She is awake and looks alert.
Hynolonie is 9 Turns, 4 months, and 14 days old.

Siannen sticks to the entrance of the caverns for a moment, eyes widening as she takes in the scene playing out before her. Aii? "Da--?" No, no, calling R'sli's attention to herself wouldn't be a good thing, no, certainly not...the greenrider's madder than she's ever seen him, and she's been living with him for turns, now. But familiar faces are spotted, and the girl dashes for the relative safety of Pyrene and Areiah, or their general direction. Thank Faranth she didn't Impress...or he'd be her weyrlingmaster /and/ her dad...

Emelie arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

Nefertiti licks her lips and cradles her klah mug carefully like a lifeline. For the bolshie girl who arrived she's starting to look a little frayed at the edges, and really on the confused side

Hynolonie peers out at the scene again, too worried to not look anymore. Everyone is talking about how dangerous it was for R'sli to be yelling so, and how healer's might need to come. She peers out once more, to look, and be sure that no one was going to die. OH, thank Faranth for the comfort of hiding under a table.

Pyrene twists her mouth wryly at Siannen. "Have a cream puff," she mutters softly. That offer may well go to Emelie as well. Woe betide newcomers to this scene.

"Siannen!" Areiah hisses, waving the girl over post-haste. "Shh. Over here, c'mon. The weyrlings went off on a bit of a spree, and, well, your dad's a bit upset." And the Understatement of the Turn award goes to.. As Pyrene mentions the creampuffs again, the goldrider pilfers another one. Those things're good.

Wait. Now the both of them are talking back? Perhaps Catia would be a good idea, as R'sli's color does /not/ improve at G'deon's ad-lib, and he raises one finger to point at the entrance to the Caverns. "Yammishta!" he babbles, flecks of spittle gathering at the corners of his mouth. "Gramishtanisk!"

[ChanLeftInForYourViewingPleasure] Areiah giggles. Wow, he's officially lost it. I knew you guys would drive him to insanity one day..

Nefertiti eyes the cream puffs and swallows. "But..." she winces at the screeching. "He looks like he's going to pop!" she frets "Can't you do something about it? Wind him? Like with littles? Gripe water?"

Rei has all the while been quietly chittering and chirping to himself, strange images being sent and received, 'lizard to 'lizard, or 'tween 'lizard and humanpet. Suddenly however, the clear image of the gold at hand is viewed, with a scrap of hide like the one in R'sli's hands. A low rumbling begins in Rei's throat. If firelizards could growl, it'd sound like that.

Emelie pauses half way through the cavern, glancing with some very small amount of curiosity at the various people around the room, though quite unaware of anyone hiding under any tables. She glances toward Pyrene at the mention of a cream puff, but the half-loaf tucked under her arm, along with the flask of spiced wine, the cheese block, the jerky, and half a dozen other rations, encourages her to offer a little shake of her head in declination. Somehow her feet refuse to move her beyond the center of the cavern, though.

Kinecha's eyes dart between the three who are the center of attention in the cavern at the moment. R'sli does look like he's about to pop, didn't he? And the 'lings doesn't seem to improve on his health.

Sonata twists her head to regard Rei with a regal air, eyes whirling fiercely with a return hiss - yes, she delivered the message from the Hold - got a problem wit' it?

Nefertiti says in her so-called quiet voice which usually fails to be at all like a murmur. "He'll not achieve much like that anyway." she looks about again.

Cayl silently, suavely, glides in from the Central Bowl.

Siannen /pales/ at the latest outburst from Ris, and creampuff is hastily snagged...you know, there's got to be something to these things...heh. Areiah is boggled at, low, "You could say /that/ again," hissed as the redhead works her way somewhere 'tween the two goldriders. Safety. Or something. "Sho...should I try...I dunno, sayin' somethin' to'm, or somethin'?" Ooh, she's the coherent one today...

Tatia's face falls at G'deon's words, and the bright red tingeing her cheeks begins to drain, leaving her rather pale instead. "No... we don't get to /fight/?" Evidently this punishment took the wind out of her sail.. she barely whispers the words as her eyes widen toward G'deon. "But that's not... that's not..." Not what? Fair? Perhaps not the best point to make at the moment... and fortunately for Tat, she manages to remember that. Oh yes... and R'sli's still here. And still babbling. A good excuse for Tatia's eyes to harden against the disappointment. Fists twining tightly in the fabric of her trousers, first her gaze, then the rest of her spins to face the direction Ris is pointing - the entrance to the caverns. Setting her shoulders proudly against the eyes of the onlookers - there just had to be a crowd, didn't there? - she begins to move, stalking from the Cavern with head held high. As she passes her fellow weyrling - the one in trouble, that is - her head tilts just a bit, fixing him with a sparkling stare as her shoulder collides with his - rather roughly, even. And out she goes.

Tatia exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Hyde appears from ::between:: in a cloak of dark blue and a flash of polished talons.

G'deon is slowly tensing, muscle by muscle. He at least has enough sanity left to set down the glass in hand first. Eyes drift to Tatia's for a moment, perhaps trying to read her thoughts, as impossible as that is. As she roughly shoves past him though, the cold blue eyes close tight, only to open again, a ready glare for R'sli. "That's not /smart/!" he finishes for Tatia, eyes on the Weyrlingmaster's.

Lis ambles aimlessly in from the Central Bowl.

Move, feet, /move/. And finally they do, inching Emelie away from the door...as that doesn't seem the best direction to head in for the moment. She didn't even want to come to High Reaches to begin with, and now...just at her moment of escape...her plan seems foiled! 'Oh, please please let the boat wait.' her expression and mind both read.

Nefertiti places her mug down now, as it looks like the show is going to be over, and breathes a little less nervously.

Not smart? Ris rushes after the weyrlings as they exit. "Gramitz!" he barks, his shoulders knotting with fury. "Gramitz and frashnaka!!" There. That'll show them who's not smart. That said, the Weyrlingmaster stands there, his chest heaving with impotent rage.

Sonata adds her own chittered scolding after the two culprits, wings fanning with a added hiss to boot. Grump. Ruin /her/ favorite hold perch, will they...

G'deon just continues to stare at the senseless Weyrlingmaster, an eyebrow arching inquisitively. He crosses his arms and waits. "And that's supposed to mean?..."

Rei knows of a better perch... high in the mountains. Suave chitters are sent Sonata's way with the appropriate image.

All right, all right - this is what best friends are s'posed to do. "It's okay, Siannen - I've got it. Just get in behind Pyrene, okay?" It's a good strategy; who's going to attack a pregnant woman? Up Areiah goes, picking her way through the thrall 'till she's standing at R'sli's side. Soft murmurs, and a gentle hand on the greenrider's shoulder. "C'mon, Ris, calm down, now. Come with me and we'll go sit down and get a drink, all right?" G'deon gets a look. A grumpy one. "I think it would be in your best interest, Weyrling, to just go. Now. You've pushed your luck far enough for one day."

Pyrene swallows uncertainly. It's conceivable that the weyrlingmaster has just gone stark raving mad. Except Cadgwith assures her that Zaqith doesn't think so. "Ris...." she asks nervously. "R'sli... could you, could you sit down and take a deep breath for me? I'm pregnant you know..." The pregnancy card can be used in any situation, right?

Immie blinks in from ::between::!

And as if there weren't enough chaos in the caverns at the moment, Lis wanders - swaggers - in just as smug as you please, and a bit disheveled-looking besides. Raising one brow laconically at the words - and they /are/ words, right? - coming from R'sli, she strolls in the direction of the hearth, jacket over her shoulder and wrinkled tunic displayed shamelessly.

Nefertiti sits, now totally bemused by it all. "So. Um." she says "This is weyrlife?" she says to herself plaintively

[ChanLeftInForYourViewingPleasure] G'deon: I think I got hit in the head to often as a Smith.

[ChanLeftInForYourViewingPleasure] Tatia thinks you did, too...

[ChanLeftInForYourViewingPleasure] Areiah will go with that. ;)

[ChanLeftInForYourViewingPleasure] G'deon: That's what you get with a Craftmaster and Headwoman who both specialize in flinging sharp objects. ;)

[ChanLeftInForYourViewingPleasure] Areiah grins. Gotta love Evan.

Emelie glances toward Nefertiti and nods, hissing in a too-loud whisper, "That's why it's smart to get out while you can." Ask the Weaver. She knows. She's always known...the cold...the dragon riders...and worst of all, the klah. Just avoid them all!

Siannen nods, whispered, "Good luck!" aimed at Arieah's back, as she ducks behind Pyrene. Pregnant goldrider and redheaded daughter...that's a plus, right? Head is stuck out around Pyrene for a moment, "Dad...Daddy? Like...they said...jest...yeah..." Siannen's gonna shut up about how. And return to peeking around Pyrene.

Cayl calls to Aztek, who flies over and lands on her shoulder.

Cayl exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Sonata promptly sends back the image of her humanpet's poor Great Hall in over-exaggerated ruins including flood, fire and famine with her much bemoaned perch cracked in two. The gold firelizard just ruffles her wings, switching from fury to downright misery for the moment.

R'sli allows the goldrider to lead him away from the weyrling with a death-wish, dully aware of being pulled along. "Framma," he mutters to Areiah confidentially. "Framma weknos yammastein." And there was the secret of life, in a nutshell.

Kinecha tears herself away from the commotion long enough to shake her head at Nefertiti's question, "It usually doen't get this heated," she says. But then she's only been here for a Turn, so there might have been incidences like this before..

"But I just arrived." Nefertiti sighs. "I think I'm getting a headache. In my left eye." she rubs her temple. "I think I'm asleep."

[ChanLeftInForYourViewingPleasure] Cayl blinks

[ChanLeftInForYourViewingPleasure] G'deon: Hmmm... is that Dutch?

[ChanLeftInForYourViewingPleasure] R'sli: Oh, you who poke at the man on the brink of insanity. Fie on you. :P

Emelie covers the crack of a smile that aims itself at her lips, and quickly nods, "Just keep telling yourself that." she mutters, obviously to Nefertiti. Always safer to just asume /you're/ the insane one instead of the whole rest of the Weyr.

Rei chirps once more, eyes whirling quickly in a bout of distress. Didn't know it was /that/ bad. Baleful eyes are turned now towards his humanpet.

Nefertiti nods a little warily. "If you say so. I always thought I was normal in the head before today"

Pyrene nervously passes R'sli the plate of cream puffs, turning a glance to Lis. "Good flight?" she asks, trying to lighten the mood.

With a plateful of food held carefully in one hand - no small amount of creampuffs on the plate either - Lis makes her way towards Pyrene. "So what language /was/ that?" she solicits from the goldrider, watching the weyrlingmaster nervously before a lopsided grin ripples slowly over her lips. "You could say that," is her coquettish reply as she slides smoothly into a seat.

Eyes grow dark for a moment as G'deon is completely ignored. He just sighs however, anger gone in a flash. He glances at Areiah and gives what he hopes is a thankful smile. Clearing eyes now glance once more at the others in the cavern, even up towards the firelizards above. Shoulders slump slightly as he takes one last deep breath. "Perhaps... I... /should/ be going," he mumbles, eyes now wary regarding the chilling R'sli.

Nefertiti rises "Right. Bath."

Desyana watches all of this in some amazement. Not a bad days entertainment for a newcomer. And the rude one really got whatfore, that makes Syan smirk a little. Shame they can'f fight, but still..

Sonata gives a appreciative twerble towards the bronze, see? See the suffering the poor proddy gold has been subjected to? G'deon is given another huff as the firelizard hunkers down on her perch again.

"Of course, love, of course," Areiah murmurs soothingly, curling an arm around R'sli and bringing him to a seat well away from the weyrlings. "Ella?" But the drudge is already on it; a mug of cider. A really, really big one. Said mug is proferred greenrider-ward, and she waves toward Pyrene's creampuffs. "Try one. They're yummy." All G'deon gets is a nod. Grump. Bad weyrlings, driving the weyrlingmaster mad.

Nefertiti drifts in a little daze partway across the floor, then comes back "Um...do they have towels and things or do I have to take my own?"

Siannen still peers warily from around her goldrider-shield, warily grinning. "Creampuff?" She saw...things...but Ris is scary, at the moment..."Pyrene? Would...you mind too terribly if maybe I bunked with you tonight, or...or something?" Juuuust so long as she's not trying to cohabitate with the angry weyrlingmaster. Right? Right.

Ooh. Creampuffs. R'sli dully accepts the mug of cider, and sips it, his face slowly returning to its normal color. But not before two creampuffs have been snagged and ground into creamy waste by the weyrlingmaster's angry fists. "How...how..." he sputters, normal vocabulary finding its way back into his throat.

Hynolonie finally slips out from underneath the table as the weyrwomen start to calm R'sli down. She probably thinks its a little safer now, and makes her way into the open like. Her eyes narrow as she glares at G'deon. All sympathy for the weyrling is gone. What ever happened to making this up to all of us. She turns around to find something to eat.. anything, but is too upset to do anything but walk. And so she does. She glares once more at G'deon, then runs inwards towards her room, to escape all the angry feelings.

Rei chitters once at the humanpet below, his little bronzen wings flapping for a moment, shooing the idiot from his presence. Destroyer of beautiful things... and now /humans/ too! Eyes whirl for a moment, regarding the creampuff eating weyrlingmaster.

Emelie adjusts her bag on one arm and her sling of food in the other, heaving a rather relieved sigh. Looks like she may not be stuck here another three days after all. To Nefertiti she offers a curious glance and nods over her shoulder, "They've towels for you in the baths...but you'd be better off to head for the ocean." she nods, inching along the wall behind G'deon. Acquaintance or not, even friend or not, she's wary of riders, and it shows well as she reaches the door and makes a sudden bolt for the outside.

Pyrene shrugs at Lis. "He's been under stress," she offers hopefully. "Siannen dear, you're welcome you know, but he might need you tonight? I... Ris? Are you alright?" She's just not taking Siannen in if it means Ris is going to chew her out for it.

Emelie exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Hynolonie steps into the shadows that lead back into the Weyr.

Nefertiti smiles and nods, heading to the baths with a totally bemused expression

Nefertiti steps into the shadows that lead back into the Weyr.

"/I'd/ say; was he really foaming at the mouth? It's as much as I could get from Jai." Lis continues to gossip shamelessly in hushed tones ot Pyrene, one hand flicking towards the olive-green lizard somewhere among the population. G'deon is eyed from under her lids across the cavern as she pauses, finally forking a bit of wherry into her mouth.

G'deon waves at his own firelizard, now also disowning the poor man, already beaten down more than once today. "Shoo yourself," he mutters up at the bronze. "And... stay away from her!" arm shooting up to point at the glowing gold. "Traitor...." Mutters continue as he stalks to the kitchens, returning with a skin of something liquid, and a bag of something else as he stalks towards the Bowl.

Nylanth> Tatia is still sulking in the farthest reaches of the bowl, arms wrapped around Vespurath's neck as she pours out her woes to the green.. she'll get to the scolding part later. Her face is hidden against the green hide as she presses her forehead against her neck, shoulders still tense with some emotion better not discussed.

Areiah shrugs, a little, before rolling narrow shoulders backward. "They were careless, Ris. Thoughtless, and careless," she offers, settling into a seat herself. "You can't control them. You can teach them, and hope they listen, but you can't control them." This is, effectively, a bit of an apology for the earlier reaming. "You did everything you could for them. It's not like this is your fault."

"How /could/ they?" Ris finally wails, bringing his fist down on the table with a resounding bang. "Aren't I fair? Haven't I been doing a good job as Weyrlingmaster?" He looks around the table for confirmation. "They would have never tried this if it was D'renn," he mutters. "/We/ certainly wouldn't have."

[ChanLeftInForYourViewingPleasure] Tatia snickers at Ris. You underestimate us if you truly believe that. ;)

Sonata returns the same sentiments /right/ back to the rider with a loud screech. Then the upset gold sidling up to the bronze with a chirble, if only to spite his humanpet. Sniff.

G'deon pauses mid-step, cooling temper making it easier to think as he hears the Weyrlingmaster. The bronzeling's face falls slightly, but now is probably not the time for apologies.

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