Weyrling Graduation and Party

 

 It is a summer midmorning.  The sun rises and warms the land, dispensing any lingering chill with its golden warmth.  Tiny puffs of clouds begin to dot the sky.

Sasha - Dragonrider of Pern

Sasha (#19192)

Elfin is the only word that can describe this young woman. Her tousled hair, once short and boyish has been allowed to grow until it cascades in long curly layers, as dark as klah at midnight, (although now streaked with brilliant blue spotches of dye), around and below her shoulders, Lashes as dark as her hair, are long and accentuate startlingly large brown eyes, which are dance with fire and mischief. Standing at a petite 5'3, her body is lithe and slim, with a tiny waist and warmly tanned skin. She is as agile as a cat and her limbs are taut and strong. Her once untrusting 'hands-off' demeanor, developed over years of ill-treatment has slowly vanished and she now radiates an air of calm, but determined contentment.

 

Velvety burgandy slips and creases its way down a rather thick wherhide jacket, the collar and cuffs lined with soft lamb's wool to protect the wearer from the cold of ::between::. The underlying tunic is a rather substantial affair, the deep, forest green quite a compliment to jacket and trous. Leather also makes up the tightly tailored trousers which protect as well as define her shapely legs before sliding down the gentle curve of her calf, where they slide into matching pair of thick heeled boots. Laces work their way up the sides of the footwear, small metal clasps decorating these lovely creations.

 

Sasha's shoulders are adorned with her proudly worn knot...a double twisted cord of royal blue and black, with a single loop, threaded through with a deep green ribbon, indicating that she is the rider of a beautiful green dragon, at High Reaches Weyr.

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 summer midmorning.  The sun rises and warms the land, dispensing any lingering chill with its golden warmth.  Tiny puffs of clouds begin to dot the sky.

Clinging to footholds in the boulder-mound are fourteen firelizards.

Brown Revnath, blue Lainnoth, Brown Dsalth, green Yshanth, blue Sakuruth, bronze Soquilith, brown Chanticoth, bronze Nylanth, and green Vespurath are here.

You see a wagonmaster, Cattysaur, Box, Dustina, and Wagon Two here.

G'deon, Ilare, R'ave, Tatia, Loren, and Quara are here.

 

Branwyth senses G'deon looking at her.

 

Above,  Akilth glides in from the north.

 

Above,  Akilth drops down towards the Bowl.

 

Akilth drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.

 

Sraine swings a leg over and slides down Akilth's neck to land gently on the ground.

You slide with great care over Branwyth's neck and down one obligingly extended forearm, until you reach the ground.

 

You notice G'deon looking at you.

 

G'deon (#19620)

 

G'deon appears at first glance to be quite calm and collected, though a mischievous gleam seems to tint his blue eyes from time to time.  He has grown into a rather well built frame and stands at less than an inch under six feet.  Many Turns of hard work have helped his shoulders 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.  Newly cut hair tops this young man's head, the short hairs glistening hazily, a sandy blond frame for a lightly tanned face accented by his calm blue eyes, clear and blue as the summer sky over High Reaches.

 

It all begins with snowy lace, just a touch at the chin, then flows down to a gleaming sheath of leather, the jacket fitting tightly to his chest, white like a mountain's glacier.  Below is a wide belt of wherhide, a tight loop of ashy cream, and cascading down from there are skin-tight breeches, the color of morning frost, met at the knees by soft leather boots, icy like the oncoming clouds of winter.

 

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 weyrling and wingsecond of High Reaches.

 

 

G'deon is 20 Turns, 10 months, and 11 days old.

 

 

Ilare (#17150)

 

A bright smile filled with warmth shines out from creamy skin, golden tan faded thanks to snow and cold. Oval face is framed by red-gold curls, recently trimmed short so that the tips of her mane stroke her cheeks and chin gently. Now, only her fringe occasionally obscures amber eyes light enough to be golden, bangs twisting slightly like spirals. Faded freckles are scattered across her nose and cheekbones, the final hints of childhood pudginess fading to the faintest hint. Not willowy - she'll never be that - but strongly built and sturdy, Ilare is as agile on her feet as a dragon midair. Having reached 5'6, she gives the impression of being taller through sheer presence and an insatiable friendliness she extends outwards. Alert and cheerful, her eyes seem to sparkle more since her Impression of Chanticoth, glowing almost bright gold when they're together.

 

Summer sunshine and cheerful green have replaced spring blues. Silk fabric, dyed jade has been spun into a smart yet practical shirt is held in place at the neckline by bottle green buttons. Long sleeves taper to small wrists, ending in cuffs delicately decorated in snapdragon gold. Hemline tucks neatly into trousers made of sturdy strong wher-hide, sleek and smooth, hued to a deeper, equally rich and warm shade of viridian. Matching jacket, the same shade of green as the trous, is layered for warmth, it's cut molding it comfortably to her form, darkest apple edged in sunlight. Matching belt, with firm metal rings for the attachment of riding straps, is fastened 'round her waist. Knee high boots, darkest midnight in colour, stands out against the warmth of green. A single band shaded both dappled green and saffron, lies flat and tied tightly, keeping her hair from flicking in her eyes while at work or in the air.  Perched on Ilare's shoulder is Sethe.

 

Double twisted cords, blackest midnight and royalty's blue, have been braided with a bright brandy-butter brown ribbon and fashioned into a single loop. A small tail, from which dangles two tassles, indicates this young brownrider's rank as Wingleader of the Sr. Weyrling Kamikaze Wing.

 

 

Ilare is 19 Turns, 1 month, and 21 days old.

 

Sraine (#19277)

 

Standing at a relatively normal height of 5 feet, 6 inches tall, Sraine isn't a very distinguishable sort. Short hair, the colour of onyx (and the lustrious qualities of said stone), covers the most amount of this 'Reaches resident's head. All a uniform length, the dark trusses end at her shoulders. Bangs of said hair frame the face gently, slight wisps breaking from the bulk and curling this way and that in front of her almond-shaped eyes. Aforementioned eyes are of an icy-blue, warmly shining when seen (despite the hue). Tan skin, like that of one that has lived long in the sun, encompasses her features, as well as a thin scar that runs from the middle of her left cheek and trails down to the underside of her chin, vertically. Features, that have been so delicately marred, aren't in any ways beautiful, but neither ugly. A shy prettiness if you will.

 

Sure cut for the chill of between or any other occasion, these leathers are the straightest form of practicality and simplicity. Vest-tunic in combination, the whole upper contraption is held together by a thick, double-pronged belt with a silver-glinting buckle. A softer, velvety material can be seen underneath, the shade of fresh beach sand--a turtle-neck type contraption of sorts, ending just under her chin. Upper leather-jacket itself is a deep burgundy brown, making it hard to tell whether the leather is one or the other. Covering her lower half are leather trous of the same colouring as her upper half, being covered only by the peices of leather-tunic falling forward and behind. Boots of dark brown, almost black cover her feet and shins, stopping just below her knee.  Swirling around Sraine's neck is a dainty pearly silver chain, which holds up the form of a sleeping blue tainted glass firelizard. Nestled under one of his paws is a little metal silver tainted egg, and encircling the pair is a metal ring.

 

Nestled about Sraine's neck is a silvery chain mingling with a blue ribbon, upon which hangs two charms: a mountainous, five spired charm and a S-shaped firelizard charm.

 

Gracing the femme rider's shoulder is a double twisted cord, one strand the same royal blue as her tunic and one the same ebon black as her trous, all comprising to form a single loop; intertwined within all this is a ribbon of a myriad of browns --consisting mostly of the darker, reddish colours-- indicating the colour of her lifemate. This knot marks her as a Sr. Weyrling of the dark-pale brown, Akilth.

 

 

Sraine is 22 Turns, 6 months, and 19 days old.

 

 

Tatia (#18423)

 

Deep green is lit with a fire that smolders in the depths of Tatia's eyes, flaring now and then into flames. The intesity of her gaze is eased by the faint fleck of gold that mars the iris of her right eye, catching the light at odd moments. Further paradoxes twine themselves through the 'rider's appearance as a pale complexion smooths over a heart-shaped face, offering a stark contrast to the deep, nearly auburn red of hair that hangs straight and smooth to a spot just above the small of her back. On good days, that is. On bad, it flies in unmanageable tangles, and the 'rider has taken to forcing it into a thick plait in the effort to keep it under control. Both her nose and lips tend to be a little on the thin side - she'd call them 'delicate' - but she manages to hide this fact most of the time with either a bright smile or a withering glare. Her stature forces her to look up to most, refusing to give her the height she might want at times, but her frame is smoothly muscled, testimony to the constant activity life with Vespurath demands. Her movements have begun to hold a hint of the unconscious grace of someone who's nearly always moving.

 

Recent Threadfall has left it's mark on Tatia, and a bandage wraps around her upper arm, near the shoulder. If the bandage were removed, a thin, twining score of angry red would be revealed, twisting diagonally around her arm.

 

Midnight sky slides down Tatia's frame in deepest indigo to coat her in the warmth of a summer evening. The leathers creep across legs, fitting well to provide ease of movement. Riding jacket is of the same purple-tinged blue, fitting loosely over her arms and fastening with a row of polished silver buttons. Soft fur edges the cuffs and lines the inside, warmth against the biting chill of ::between::. The midnight of jacket is disturbed by the dance of starbursts, stitched at random along neckline and button line before winding around the hem. The shirt under the jacket is simple, of a softer sky blue that speaks of midsummer's day rather than evening. A dipping 'v' neckline leads into cap sleeves, and the hem ends just low enough to slide over hips . Gloves to match the lightness of the shirt fit snugly and tightly, keeping her grip firm. Boots of a shade even deeper than indigo wind their way up her calves, laced up the side for a tight fit.

 

Cords dance together, one blue, one black, twining in a single loop as each stuggles for dominance. The opposing colors are threaded together with one of deepest, sage-splattered green, a ribbon that proclaims proudly that Tatia is a 'Reaches Senior Weyrling, a greenrider.

 

 

Tatia is 18 Turns, 7 months, and 8 days old.

 

 

You notice Tatia looking at you.

 

Branwyth senses Tatia looking at her.

 

You notice Ilare looking at you.

 

You notice Sraine looking at you.

 

 

Above,  Niamhyth glides in from the north.

 

Above,  Niamhyth drops down towards the Bowl.

 

Niamhyth drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.

 

You notice R'ave looking at you.

 

R'ave (#19778)

 

Flaming. Tangerine verdure seems to spread in a brushfire 'cross the boy's head, shorn tresses shimmering with marigold-lightened spikes of orange. A few unevenly layered thorns of chrome-bright fire-strands curl over the brink of his hairline - but his hair's length is gone. Brought out by his sizzling locks, lavender-burgundy irises --shot through with liquid cyan-- are singed, burnished, and opulently livid. Alabaster smoothes an unruddied complexion, health evident in the pale limning of his resiliently angled face; feminine cheekbones swirl to a wide jawbone and a thin, vaguely asymmetrical mouth. He scarcely manages to peak over five and a half feet in height, dimensions slight and slim -- carved with compact, etched lines of corded, wiry muscle. A little ball of muscle he may be, his lean body conceals it well, lank limbs sprawling, entire aura that of casual objectivity.

 

Achingly brilliant pink is tempered with shading by earthy, dull ocher, the earthy cerise cutting in a superciliously low-slung waistline, a rather generous division between the swarthy fawn belt and his tattoo-circled navel. Tight through lissome hips and thighs, 'hide gives a fraction at his knees, spreading to cover the chunky-heeled protrusions of burnished tawny boots. Dusty quartz colors his same-shaded jacket, a high, sharply folded collar leading to the tapering arms lined with glittery argent llama wool, the same puffly substance pedantically poofed around the taut jacket's hip-bone skimming hem. A sleeveless, pale beige shirt is worn beneath, the silky material glimmery, designed with a veneer-subtle snakeskin motif, some sparkly second-skin sisal.

 

A rejuvanated knot, now the minibronzer's rank is Senior Weyrling; dual twisted cords twine; an ebon length coiled with another strand of navy, forming a single loop. There within spirals a ribbon of red-veiled bronze, though streaks of faded material hint at silver.

 

 

R'ave is 18 Turns, 6 months, and 26 days old.

 

 

Branwyth senses Ilare looking at her.

 

Lis ambles aimlessly in from the Beach.

 

Pyrene steps carefully in from the Beach.

 

Cadgwith crashes resplendently in from the Beach.

 

 

 

Jaina walks in.

 

Emara walks in.

 

Tonalie steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

 

Teufel blinks in from ::between::!

 

Ashtyn steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

 

You are already on that channel.

 

Sarah walks in.

 

Ashtyn steps in, a little in awe of all the people. He smiles and tries to find someone he knows.

 

Pyrene appears, looking refreshed after nap and bath and change of clothes. Cadgwith is with her, looking as proud as if this was the batch of weyrlings that /she/ mothered, and the pair settle near the back (people complain that they can't see if Cadgwith sits any further forward).

 

G'deon just mills about off to the side for now, a hand rising from time to time to pick at his collar.

 

Alymath saunters with lanky grace, a hint of gold flashing in her steps, in from the Beach.

 

Ilare is.. Nervous isn't quite the word, although fiddle she does with her leathers.  And Chan's straps.  And her gloves.  ANd the head band.  Nervous?  Her?  Nah?

 

Lyri makes her ponderous way down Nia's foreleg and onto the ground, her usual noiseless dismount now a dull thud.  "Shards.."  The rider mutters, motioning the soon to be former 'lings into something resembling a line.  "Alright, let's get this over with." Right, because her back hurts, her ankles are swollen.. did she mention that she hates men? 

 

Emara goes home.

 

Jaina stands back, glancing at the crowd from the Weyr she once lived at. She knows some of these people, but its rare that you get to see weyrlings promoted to full rider, so she took the oppourtunity.

 

Teufel suddenly disappears ::between::!

 

Sasha lets her fingers scratch Branwyth's eyeridges, her great green head bowed low to nose at her beloved rider. As she glances round at her other Kamikazi wing friends she grins a little nervously.

 

Fallanth lumbers gracefully in from the Beach.

 

Sraine fidgets, tugging on the corners of her sleeves as she mills about next to Akilth. Yep..she was nervous too. Can't you tell? Letting cold-coloured eyes roam over her fellow 'ling friends she offers a rather timid smile. She wasn't afraid to show her nervousness.

 

Lis ambles in without any attention being paid to the ground beneath her barefoot feet, sandles swinging from one hand. Face is turned upwards towards the sky, watching the swirling dots of things on high - innocent avians, or impassioned dragons? With a pathetic whine, Alymath comes trailing after her lifemate in at a quick trot. Lis /left/ her.

 

Hynolonie slips down from a large, low-lying ledge just above.

 

Tatia stands to one side, arm settled absently across Vespurath's shoulders as bright eyes pick apart the crowd. Her feet shift, though whether in anxious nervousness or simple anticipation isn't clear.  Beside her, curiously whirling eyes follow Tatia's as Vespurath, too, studies the gathered.

 

Salea walks in.

 

Ashtyn sees Vespurath and Tatia in the crowd and pushes his way towards them, wondering if he is welcome now.

 

Niamhyth adds a bugle of her own to her uncomfortable rider's instructions; having a big mouth has its advantages. After a moment, the green settles down upon the hard packed earth of the bowl and watches quietly, eyes whirling in lazy shades of blue-green. Just look at the 'lings, aren't they cute in all their leathers and stuff?

 

Quara is also standing near the back, or rather to one side. Braced against Sakuruth, she stands out vividly, green and red against blue. On the ground next to her are two bags, one large and oddly-shaped, and the other much smaller and squishy-looking. She glances at the assembling crowd, then turns her attention to the weyrlings.

 

Loren fidgets; she slides, she dismounts: Soquilith's bulk is shimmied down as carefully and as safely as the now dress-garbed bakerlet can manage -- not terribly safely, really, but she manages to get on the ground, without any injuries or embarrassment. A beam is shot in the general direction of R'ave as she scuttles away, carefully dusting off her skirts and attempting find a spot where she can watch without obstructing anyone else's view. This, of course, is in the front, and right in the middle of a group of weyrbrats who promptly whine and scuttle elsewhere.

 

G'deon and Nylanth both seem a little out of place, standing on the side like that, so without further ado the bronae 'ling makes his way to the end of the line, nodding to the others, an encouraging smile on his face.

 

Salea saunters over to Quara, weaving through the gathering crowd until she reaches her wingmate's side. "Nice day" she says noncomitally, squinting out across the grounds.

 

Akilth swivels his head about to see what all the fuss was. His rider was nervous and so everyone better stay away from her and not make her feel any worse. Rumbling deep within his throat, he only settles down a little more after Ine places a hand on the dark-pale brown's neck. Settle.

 

Lianda walks in.

 

R'ave is a man -- lucky him. Looking the gender, even in pink, the 'rider slides trippingly from his lifemate's shoulder, landing heavily on the thick soles of not-quite broken in boots. "Cripes," the 'ling mumbles, all eloquence left to his slightly chary expression. A few tacit inclinations roll toward certain rocginized individuals, though he's far from misty-eyed. He, fortunately, is not much of a sentimentalist. Loren is give a grin around SOquilith's ruddy foreleg, the bronze's dark eyes missing nothing -- he appreciates this as much, or almost more, than his apathetic rider. Who he randomly tail-pops. Be cheery.

 

Chanticoth shifts his wings against his back, half in excitement, half in impatience. Come on... let's get to the good part. The dancing afterwards!

 

Line? Tatia can do that.. surely. Tilting her head toward her lifemate for some comment, she tugs at a strap, and the pair moves into place, settling into line. The weyrlings on either side of her get a bright grin, and the cause of feet shuffling becomes clear.. it's anticipation. Vespurath croons low and long, and her neck arches just a bit. Both 'rider and dragon look their best for the occasion.

 

Sraine gives her brownie boy a final pat before heading into the line with the others, still fidgeting and tugging at the ends of her sleeves. For some reason they just didn't want to set into place right today. Flashing a wavering smile to those on either side, she bites her bottom lip. Hehe...no...she's not nervous at ALL.. Really. Akilth rumble croons a small comfort to her, which makes the quiet rider stand a little more still.

 

Pyrene grins across at Salea and Quara. "Always the same, isn't it?" she murmurs, eyes sparkling. "Don't they all look so cute? And the dragons!" My, how they've grown!

 

<Kamikaze Wing> Branwyth senses that Nylanth sends a soft vision of gentle clouds rolling across a spring meadow.  << We were a good wing everyone.  G'deon and I are proud of all of you. >>

 

Branwyth curls her tail around to avoid it being trodden on..and straightens herself into the line that is rapidly forming, next to Sasha who grins at her proudly.

 

Ilare shivers slightly, finally halting the fidgety movements of hands by resting one in her pockt and the other on her dragon's muzzle.  Familiar faces are grinned at, before she nods at the other weyrlings, making her way over.  Lips twitch as she moves near to G'deon, passing him a wink as she neatly evades V'tor, parking herself between K'sair and Ness.  Safe, she is!  And trying not to laugh at her dragon's want to dance.

 

Dsalth twitches ever so slightly, finally lifting sorrel head from his half-doze and blinking towards the bowl which appears to be filled with... /little dragons/! Large auburn bulk is lifted slowly, whirling orbs darting from one pair to another before memory returns to the old brown. Ah yes, graduation. Settling down in his same spot, dragon watches the scene quietly.

 

Swaggering in with all the air of one who understands the beauty of 'fashionably late,' a brownrider makes his appearance, complete with brown. As if on cue, a trio of girls in the corner begins giggling, and one goes so far as to offer a little wave in his direction. Flashing perfectly-lined teeth, the 'rider responds, tilting a glance over his shoulder to comment to his lifemate. "They still love us, Backstreeth." Oh yes, N'sync's in the house.. and he, too, must find a place in line. With no care for the polite, he shoulders his way somewhere in the middle.. and glances over to find Sraine. "Well he/llo/, dearheart," he draws. Isn't she lucky?

 

Lyri just _looks_ at R'ave, seeing a whole different side to the 'ling-rider.. and probably more of him than she really wanted to at this point.  Ilare is nodded to before the rider clears her throat, attempting to gather the attention of the assembled weyrlings... need she shout?  "You've all done an extremely.. adequate job,"  she begins. Hey, what could anyone expect? Especially after that Ista fiasco.  "You've applied yourself to your training and it is with great..."  Fear, anxiety, terror... -Ahem.  "honor that I present you with your full rider's knots."  Ilare is motioned to once again.  "Ilare, if you would step forward?" 

 

Salea winks at Pyrene, remembering a certain young weyrling from the not-so-distant past. "Always a joy...but some more...mischevous...than others." Not that she'd know who played all those tricks on D'renn...

 

Ashtyn finds a spot near Vespurath, watching all of the dragons and their riders in awe, not sure he has ever seen so many in one place before.

 

<Kamikaze Wing> Branwyth senses that Vespurath thinks <<  :floats lazy clouds above her words. <<We were.>> she agrees simply before rising colors burst the serene scene. <<And they have all come to see /us/!>> >>

 

Pyrene snickers back at Salea. "At least D'renn's not wearing lime taffeta for this one," she mutters.

 

"They're what? Oh, they're /graduating/." Alymath serves to ground her rider in the reality of the here-and-now, causing Lis' eyes to focus on the lined up weyrlings rather than the fascinating cottony balls of clouds overhead. "Oh, the colors. It's just candy for your eyes," she enthuses to no one in particular - possibly Aly, since she's closest, and gives an appreciative snort whilst standing protectively around her rider. /Hers/.

 

<Kamikaze Wing> Branwyth senses that Chanticoth << Naturally. We are /the best/ of course. >> And who could dispute that?

 

Quara beams at Pyrene, nodding effusively. "Of course. Although 'cute' doesn't describe a few of the boys," she points out, with a little half-leer. "A shame you can't have any for Esprit, eh?" Poor goldrider. And then it's time to clap for Ilare, who's the first to be called up. Lucky girl. "Hope Lyri doesn't forget any of them, though. Not like D'renn did." Glare.

 

Sraine nearly jumps out of her skin at the unexpected voice near her. Turning with semi-wide eyes, she inwardly groans and, for the moment, forgets about tugging her sleeves. "H..hello." she murmers, trying to hide her distate. Of ALL the people.. Gyah... At Lyri's voice she turns away --gratefully-- and focuses on the rider speaking. All the while she takes small, sidling steps away from N'sync. Eeek.

 

R'ave and Soquilith somehow manage to resign themselves to a line formation, though Soquilith positions himself diagonally -- just to be a nuisance. "At least you're in the line," the minibronzer murmurs quietly, a few edgy smiles are given to his clutchmates. Perhaps he is a little moved? Nah. He got his nancy-boy hair gel in his eyes, that's all. Lyri gets a patient smile; she'll conform to loving the pinkness. It's inevitable. What can you expect from the 'adequate'? Being pleasantly abrupt, 'ling-boy erupts into clapter for Ilare.

 

Chanticoth restrains himself from any happy outburst as his rider is called forward, just giving her an encouraging muzzle-nudge to get her moving.

 

Jaina chuckles and she watches N'sync and Backstreeth. She shakes her head and then glances and some of the other 'lings, her eyes sweeping the line from the back of the crowd. The healer lays low, yes. But she also likes to watch nervous 'lings.

 

G'deon adds his applause to that of the others, an odd little smile on his face as he watches their wingleader claim her new knot.

 

Pyrene glances across the weyrlings from lacy G'deon to pinky R'ave. "Oh, I'm not sure that I'd begrudge you any of /these/, Quara..." she comments drolly. "Already got your eyes on Inferno recruits then?

 

Typical, first again.  Straightening her shoulders, giving Ness a bright smile and a elcbow-nudge to the nervous ex-herder, K'sair, Ilare blinks as Chanticoth nudges her forwards.  "I'm going, I'm going.." she giggles lightly, before making her way forwards towards Lyri, holding her head high.  Beam.  They HAVE done well, no?  Great wing.. And itr's all /over/ in a few short strides...  Grinning at her fellow 'lings, Ilare arrives next to Lyri. 

 

Tatia lifts her hands in instant applause, eyes glowing at their once wing-leader.

 

Sasha flicks her tight braid back over her shoulder and watches Ilare as she makes her way forward. A good choice for wingleader that....she'll do well in her new wing. She pulls the plait back over her shoulder...nervous?

 

Sraine raises her hands to clap full well too, not wanting to be outdown by her fellow soon-to-be-rider 'lings.

 

Pyrene belatedly realises that Ilare's been called up, and as Cadgwith croons her own approval, she applauds. Ilare gets a proper round of clapping--her hands are not yet sore as they will be long before the 37th name is called.

 

"You look a little.. nervous," N'sync continues, looping an arm around Sraine's shoulder. For support, of course. "Don't worry about it, love. There's nothing to be frightened of.. you've just got to get over this bit of stage fright." Another of those flashing smiles, and he tilts his head toward the crowd. "Hear them roaring? For.. us?" Sense the importance of that second word?

 

Lyri hands over a bright and shiney new knot to Ilare, giving her a nod and a half grin in the process, "Congratulations."  Yeah, she lived through this.  "G'deon," is called next, the gravid greenrider holding out a knot in like fashion for him to claim. 

 

Another nudge from Alymath, and Lis is kept from seeing things in the pattern of her dress to notice Ilare's knot-swapping - please say she isn't going the way of Nuff? "Oh, such /leathers/. So green, and rich, like springtime blooms." Looney. Definately. She attempts to float in Pyrene's direction, but a large pink-green paw blocks her; not that the greenrider conciously /notices/, but she does stop before any greivous bodily harm occurs.

 

Ciera walks in.

 

R'ave's signature color is pink -- he couldn't desert it just because he's almost a rider, could he? Soquilith revels in the looks his weenified lifemate is recieving, low, whinnying whickerish sounds thundering toward Ilare, and now to G'deon. R'ave even sees fit to flash his fellow once-bronzeling a lopsided grin. How benevolent.

 

Ilare returns the nod, accepting the knot almost reluctantly.  She's a /rider/ now.  Waaah.. no more weyrlinghood.  Well, at least it means no more 'ling leadership for Ilare! Yay!  Not quite bouncing back in place, she grins and starts clapping for G'deon as she returns to her place next to her brown.  

 

Pyrene applauds G'deon too, cheerful, enthusiastic, and just a touch misty-eyed for this group of new riders. Isn't it special? "Well done G'deon!" she calls with pride. She kind of Searched him. She was there, anyway.

 

Sraine jerks out of her clapping by the arm about her shoulder. EEEEK! -Now- what was he doing?? o.@ "I'm f-fine." she stutters, a light blush creeping onto her cheeks. This wasn't a good, sweet blush though. It was one of those DEEPLy embarrassed, please leave me alone type blushes. Trying to edge herself away but finding herself rather...unmatching the other's strength she sighs deeply. Faranth help her. She, conveniently, ignores the last statement while she claps for those going up to get their knots. She can suffer through this, right?

 

G'deon needs a prod from his lifemate standing close behind, but only a bit of a prod.  He takes a few long strides up to Lyri and smiles softly.  "Thank you, Lyri, for all of this."  Not long on ceremony though, he quickly claims the knot and turns, walking back to the end of the line next to Ilare.

 

Loren just sort of.. sways for no reason inparticular, managing a cheerful beam Ilare-wards and clapping in congratulations. "She has pretty hair," is mumbled towards no one in particular -- a weyrbrat who refused to move -- and then the bakerlet hushes, clapping again for G'deon. And innocently staring R'ave-wards, pink though he may be. Because he's there. Beam, glow. Beam. And all that happy-clappy-sappy sort of thing.

 

"Of course I do, Pyie darling! Whyever shouldn't I?" Quara calls back to the goldrider, beaming. "Compound the happiness and all that." Smirk. Yup, the power has gone to her head. "And... oooh. White and lace. It looks lovely, Gid!" she calls up.

 

 

Jaina goes home.

 

Tatia's hands lift in swift applause, and a grin splits her face... Lips even purse in a piercing whistle for the bronzerider. Hey - she can't resist.

 

G'deon carefully removes his knot, folding it and gently putting it away.

 

Ilare takes off her knot.

 

Ilare puts on her knot.

 

G'deon carefully and precisely attaches his knot to his shoulder.

 

Pyrene glances to Lis, remembering their earlier conversation and snorts. "Well, they can't be worse than Lis is right now," she replies to Quara. "What say we make sure she /avoids/ the wine afterwards?"

 

Lis utters one word at the event of G'deon's graduation: "Clouds." At least, however, this in an improvement on her pointing out the shapeliness of Sora's hinquarters, yes? Eyes follow the bronzerider around, shutting out the rest of the world as she focuses on the white-garbed rider. Sky. Fly. Prodd...i.

 

"Hyzen." Lyri calls yet another rider up to recieve their knot and then turns to R'ave.. and, yes, she /is/ keeping a straight face. "R'ave."  Snicker.. no, she didn't do that.

 

N'sync's arm tightens a bit more. "You don't /sound/ fine," he purrs, dipping his head a bit closer. So she can hear in this crowd, right? The trio of girls near the front are beginning to look distinctly disappointed - and so N'sync sends them a quick wink. He won't forget his fans. "You just have to learn to /love/ the spotlight..." he suggets, squeezing Sraine's shoulders.

 

Nalahni steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

 

Above,  Mzadith heads in from above the lake.

 

Above,  Mzadith drops down towards the Bowl.

 

Mzadith drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.

 

Salea cheers and claps, and claps and cheers, adding her approval of the new Riders with those around her.

 

Quara laughs at Pyrene. "Yes, dear. I'm getting rid of most of the rest of it," she confides. "Between 'joining bonuses' for the weyrlings and what I promised to Ophelia, we'll have to... ah... well." She trails off, winking broadly, and then turns her merrily-twinkling eyes to the entertainment at hand.

 

Nalahni quietly slips from the Caverns, and stares taken aback by all the crowds and cheering. Suddenyl she remembers the promotion and steps aside, peering around shoulders and heads to try to get a glimpse.

 

G'deon carefully finishes putting on his new knot, then begins applauding once more for another fellow weyrling, and a bronzer at that.

 

Sraine pushes against her 'captor' with one hand as she frowns. "Well I -am- fine." she mutters, very unhappy now at this point. She didn't like how close he was getting. T'was very uncomfortable, and Akilth wasn't taking it very well. Said brown eyes the two closely, tail flicking every so slightly instead of lying still. "And I'd rather stay OUT of the spotlight thank you very much..." Groan..when was it her turn so she could move AWAY from him? Wait...someone else was called. Clap! Take your mind away and clap! o.@

 

Char-tipped blue does land with a slight thud on the ground, his roundish belly all but touching said ground. Tail lashes out and he takes the shock of the landing through the entirity of his being, all but huffing and puffing just as his rider, seated comfortably up on his ridges, is. Immediately, ashen wings are folded backward and he crouches further, rubbing belly against the ground and allowing Cayl to dismount. How very embarassing. Mzadith's does so with her usual deliberateness, coming to a settling spot on the ground and stepping a little bit forward through the crowds. Nothing is said by Cayl -- instead, cheeks flame and she attempts to be unnoticed.

 

Loren sways a bit more, clapping a bit louder and with noticably more enthusiasm. Aaw, look. Her weyrmate's all.. graduated, now. And he's even pink. She's so proud. "R'avey, R'avey, R'avey." Beam, glow, swoon, and the bakerlet manages to keep from humiliating anyone -- publicly -- as she mumbles random things along the lines of happy-prideful at 'brats.

 

Pyrene /chuckles/ and claps and cheers. Not that she's trying to compete with Salea. "What did you promise to Ophelia, anyway? Slaves?"

 

Ilare applauds for Hyzen, beaming at the young green rider, before she snickers all the while R'ave steps up to claim his knot.  Well, can you blame her?  PINK?  Isn't there a law against such a colour on a bronzer?  Chanticoth rumbles pride in his lifemate, and then amusement at R'ave.  You chose /that/ shade?  But wouldn't fuchia suit /so/ much better? 

 

"Cayl,"  Lyri calls out, holding out yet another knot and managing a few final stern looks toward the remaining weyrlings. Tossing thread at them was so much fun. Sniff. 

 

Tatia's hands are still going.. and going, and going.. This time eyes settle on R'ave, and Soquilith even gets a quick glance and a grin. Eyes move across to Hyzen, then toward Cayl.. then toward Lyri. Aw. Won't she miss Kamikaze?

 

Sasha claps and claps....the pride for the other weyrlings apparent on her face.

 

R'ave is pleasantly benign, hips a-swing as he saunters /slowly/ toward Lyri. It's not because he's traditional, mercy no, it's because he's in pink -- and he likes it. Soquilith graciously tilts his head skyward, as if to renounce his claim on his rider -- nicker-crooning sarcastically. "Thanks, Lyri," he murmurs, grinning as he exchanges old for new, and makes a slow pivot make toward his lifemate, Pyrene shot a poignant smile. Remember how /I/ got Searched? Ahem. Loren gets a much cleaner grin as he sinks back next to a casual Soquilith.

 

Pyrene smirks slightly. The blue ones are getting called now, hmm? Well... she's a fair sort, so she'll even cheer for them. Isn't that nice of her? "'Grats Cayl," she calls, although it's R'ave she winks towards in approval of both new leathers and knot.

 

Salea continues, heading north.

 

Cayl shoots a glance back at her lifemate who then whuffles at her, stamping a little bit closer. He /did/ get them here on time -- well, sorta. Squaring shoulders further, blueling steps forward, shoving through the last of the crowd without so much as a please or thankyou. And up to Lyri she steps, inclining her head, "Here." Comes the composed answer as fingers dance up and down the rim of her jacket. In the background, Mza warbles and croons alternatively -- his lil' girl's all grown up! Or something.

 

You notice Pyrene looking at you.

 

Branwyth senses Pyrene looking at her.

 

Quara chortles at the goldrider, applauds for the graduations, and then lifts an eyebrow at R'ave's getup. "Oh, dear. Someone needs to give that boy a lesson in taste," she murmurs. "And no, I didn't promise her slaves. She wanted wine. Which I have. So she's getting it. A bottle for every weyrling we take in. So she's fine with us having plenty of them, now." She grins, and claps, and then readjusts her outfit slightly and fixes a wayward curl, ever style-conscious.

 

Lis eyes R'ave speculatively, her head cocked so as to send blond tresses spilling over one shoulder. "Pink. I used to be pink, once." Be, wear - same thing, you know. Now, isn't there something she was supposed to yell, during times like these? "Congradulishions!" Close enough.

 

N'sync isn't letting go... not that easily, at least. Backstreeth croons behind him, a veritable love song. "Ah, dearest.. you just don't know how /enjoyable/ it is. Clap? Applause.. N'sync adores both, but not when it's taking Sraine's attention away from him. "You just need to /relax/.."

 

Nalahni grins as the new knots are being awareded. Wow, what an honor! Dragonriders. And surely they have all earned the new title. Smiling she applauds nodding her head slightly.

 

R'ave yawns contently -- both with his taste, and the typical oddlooks. Another around of applause for Cayl as Lis gets a fairly innocent blink. She speaks in tongues now?

 

Lyri missed Kamikaze a long time ago.. but she tried to hit them with those practice threads, honest!   "Sasha, N'sync." A shudder is given at the last.. she just doesn't like that one.  "Tatia" is also called, the knots held out toward the three as she waits for their approach. 

 

Sasha's eyes widen slightly as her name is called and her fingers leave Branwyth's comforting hide. Striding forward and literally bursting with pride she glances back at the other weyrlings, and her friends from the weyr. All these people who she has come to regard as dearer than the family she never knew...all watching her now. Reaching Lyri, she grins broadly at her and waits, feeling exquisite excitement about the whole event.

 

Pyrene laughs at Quara and Lis by turns. "Sounds about right," she agrees to the former before sidling closer to the latter. "You doing alright there?" she mutters, before making a little leap in a renewed burst of support for Tatia. She stood with her! "Go, Tatty!" she squeals, with little regard for dignity or her delicate condition.

 

Sraine groans! This guy was NOT catching the hint. Of course, Ine was never good at throwing them out in the first place. Sighing deeply, and very audibly, she tries not to look his way. "I know how enjoyable staying OUT of it is... and I'd be a lot more relaxed if you didn't have your arm about me." As N'sync's own name is called she sighs lightly in relief. That meant he had to go away now! YAY!

 

G'deon continues clapping for each and every weyrling called to attention, a warm smile growing bit by bit across his face.  "As much as I'm going to miss these guys being in the same wing," he mutters to the we.. no, rider next to him, "it's good to be able to watch this..."

 

Vespurath is hyper. Could you tell? The bouncy little green is all but leaping into the air and fluttering around with exhultation. Tatia's been called. Instead of doing such outrageous things, however, Vesp keeps her piece. Green fidgets -- she can't do much more than that with the stupid rest that she has to keep her wing on. Thread really is a horrible type thing *grumble*. Warble warble warble -- the warbles are nearly endless that run across the crowd toward Tatia.

 

"Right on, Tatia!" Lis sings out, throwing her arms up trimphantly, steping atop Alymath's paw for that added height. "Greenriding Starcrafters. Whooo!" A brilliant display of enthusiasm, and then it's back to watching - stalking - staring at G'deon. Yoohoo. Cloud-boy.

 

Lianda goes home.

 

Tatia's eyes dance toward Pyrene as she catches the nickname, and she grins broadly. The grin doesn't lessen as she steps forward, strides sure as she approaches Lyri. Her head inclines toward Vespurath for a brief comment before she turns eyes glowing with pride toward the assistant weyrlingmaster, hand extended to accept the knot.

 

Loren just.. swoons. Sort of. Another beam is sent R'ave-wards, and then the bakerlet just sways and swoons. And sways. And swoons. Et cetera, et cetera, and so forth. Aaw. All the weyrlings are turning into not-weyrlings. How sad. Sniff-sniff. Anyway. Bakerlet claps, appropriately polite -- she's too preoccupied to attempt 'congratulations'. Too many syllables.

 

 

Ilare just claps and claps.. and winces for poor Ine.  N'sync has certainly gotten over Cayl quick.. V'tor is eyed warily, and brown li--.. Brown /rider/ hides herself besides her dragon's nose.  Can't see meeee...

 

Quara claps and cheers and applauds. "Oooh, N'sync. I like you, baby!" she cat-calls, fluttering her fingers. Purr. "And Tatia!" Clap. Clapclap. She chances a glance to make sure her twin bundles are safe, and then avidly watches the horde file on up. "Aww. It's reminiscent of when I graduated." There was no D'renn in a d'ress, but he did forget her. Almost. "Except better. Because she hasn't forgotten anyone yet." If he's listening...

 

R'ave hops to the balls of his feet, getting into this whole... celebretory occasion thing. Sasha, Tat, and N'sync are all appreciated, so they all recieve fairly large quantities of applause. The swoony Loren is far from forgotten, though he's becoming more and more sidetracked with all these people in leather. Soquilith jiggles his hulking shoulders a little, just to chime as well as croon.

 

Hynolonie stands near the back of the crowd, on one of the steps that leads up to her Mum's weyr.  She watches.. unblinking for a good long time.. not really clapping.  She wrinkles her nose as thoughts pass through her head and finally, she begins to push her way through the crowds towards the front for a better view.

 

N'sync's arm snakes away from Sraine reluctantly, though he doesn't allow it to show in his face - this is his time to shine, after all! "Don't worry, love," he calls over his shoulder as hips sway in a swagger toward Lyri. "I'd never break your heart." He pauses before the greenrider, lips curled upward expectantly, and behind him, Backstreeth rises to bugle loudly. Backstreeth's back! Alright.

 

Pyrene can understand Loren. She's already hoarse herself, and after that burst of volume for Tatia, she resumes clapping with no vocal support. She grins at the baker though, and at Quara, Lis and others who she can exchange some vestige of nostalgia with. No matter how many times she watches one of these...

 

 

Lyri hands over the knots and scans the line again.   "Sraine."  Again, a knot is held forward for the taking and the psuedo gravid rider waits, giving what could be a sympathetic look toward Pyrene, though Lis is awarded a glare, somehow.. this is her fault. Nia wouldn't have been obsessed with little pink babies if it weren't for Lis-spawn.  

 

Ilare (#17150)

 

A bright smile filled with warmth shines out from creamy skin, golden tan faded thanks to snow and cold. Oval face is framed by red-gold curls, recently trimmed short so that the tips of her mane stroke her cheeks and chin gently. Now, only her fringe occasionally obscures amber eyes light enough to be golden, bangs twisting slightly like spirals. Faded freckles are scattered across her nose and cheekbones, the final hints of childhood pudginess fading to the faintest hint. Not willowy - she'll never be that - but strongly built and sturdy, Ilare is as agile on her feet as a dragon midair. Having reached 5'6, she gives the impression of being taller through sheer presence and an insatiable friendliness she extends outwards. Alert and cheerful, her eyes seem to sparkle more since her Impression of Chanticoth, glowing almost bright gold when they're together.

 

Summer sunshine and cheerful green have replaced spring blues. Silk fabric, dyed jade has been spun into a smart yet practical shirt is held in place at the neckline by bottle green buttons. Long sleeves taper to small wrists, ending in cuffs delicately decorated in snapdragon gold. Hemline tucks neatly into trousers made of sturdy strong wher-hide, sleek and smooth, hued to a deeper, equally rich and warm shade of viridian. Matching jacket, the same shade of green as the trous, is layered for warmth, it's cut molding it comfortably to her form, darkest apple edged in sunlight. Matching belt, with firm metal rings for the attachment of riding straps, is fastened 'round her waist. Knee high boots, darkest midnight in colour, stands out against the warmth of green. A single band shaded both dappled green and saffron, lies flat and tied tightly, keeping her hair from flicking in her eyes while at work or in the air.  Perched on Ilare's shoulder is Sethe.

 

Double twisted cords, blackest midnight and royalty's blue, have been braided with a bright brandy-butter brown ribbon and fashioned into a single loop, proclaiming her to be a full fledged Brown Rider of High Reaches Weyr.

 

Ilare is 19 Turns, 1 month, and 21 days old.

 

 

Sraine shudders, quite thankful that the other's arm was well away from around her. Clapping for her other friends and, reluctantly, for N'sync she barely catches her own name. Startled, she then stumbles forward. Yikes..couldn't they have waited until he was VERY far away from her? Shards... Trying to keep her distance from the WAY too friendly N'sync, she strides up to Lyri to take her knot, actually flashing a grateful and happy smile her way.

 

Pyrene can understand Lyri as well. Lis had more than a hand in Pyrene's own decision to remain in her currently pregnant state.

 

 

Sasha makes her way proudly back into the line, showing Branwyth her new knot, and continuing to clap for the other new riders.

 

Sasha takes off her knot.

 

Tatia returns to Vespurath, eyes glowing as a hand rises to finger her knot. She again settles an arm across the green's shoulder - the uninjured one, of course - and settles in to watch.

 

Pyrene calls across a cheer to Sasha as well as the ex-ling gets back into earshot. "Well done!" Another fellow candidate.

 

Ashtyn stands up and claps wildly for the new riders, feeling their joy.. and maybe even a little bit of envy. HE smiles as his friends get what he knows theyve all worked hard for.

 

Ilare rolls her eyes as N'sync gets his knot (PLEASE don't let him make a speech over his knot, we'll miss the dancing..) but Sasha and Tatia are applauded loudly.  As is fellow browny, Sraine!  Woo!  Bright smile and nod are given Akilth's rider, along with a subtle hint for Ine to come stand by /her/. 

 

G'deon glances around slowly, a confused frown on his face as he hears someone that sounds like Lis... wait, she'd be the one staring at him.  "Um... Nylanth, mind if I stand over here?"  Out of the line of fire.

 

Cayl briskly stepped off the platform, knot clutched to her. With one last step she leaned into Mzadith who in turn, crooned at her, snaking his head around in order to better see the knot which his lifemate will soon be wearing for the majority of her time. "We did it, Mza." The newly-promoted rider breathes, leaning against the ash-tipped side, careful of her own injuries, her face glowing and a grin upon that face.

 

Above,  Catiminith sneaks in from the dusty pens.

 

Above,  Catiminith drops down towards the Bowl.

 

Catiminith drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.

 

A touch of orchid shimmers with Sora's descent, leaving behind Catiminith's elegant indigo ridges for the more stolid support of the ground.

 

N'sync's back, too.. and he's swaggering straight toward Quara - just long enough for a slow wink, of course. "Oh yeah!" he calls toward the crowd. "I want it /that/ way." What way? Who knows.. perhaps Sraine's way.. cause he manages to slide right past her as she heads forward and he heads back. "Don't forget, love.. come stand by me."  N'sync keeps the spotlight as long as he can.. the crowds'll never tire of him! Right?

 

You notice Lis looking at you.

 

Sasha puts on her knot.

 

Quara claps loudly. And cheers. And generally keeps making noise. It's so special. They're all grown up now. And a bunch of them are coming home with her. "Yay!" She leans back against her indigo cushion, blows a kiss to N'sync, and then pats the large leg at her side.

 

"Sora."  Once again Lyri's voice is given a chance to become rather loud. A knot is held forward for said 'ling to claim and a smile given, they /did/ survive, after all.

 

Line of fire? Never. Lis, if not entirely harmless, is peaceful, if anything. And, as always, has a comment about someone's leathers - Sasha's, this time: "Ooh, so rich and red, like a sweet smokey Benden. Would that I could have some..." is the plaintive whine, with a glare in Pyrene's direction. She hear that business about them keeping her away from the alcoholic beverages.

 

Sraine retrieves her knot and catches Ilare's hintings. Yes! She'd like that! Save her! Slinking past N'sync and pretending not to have heard him, she quick-steps over towards Ilare and comes to stand on the side furthest from him. "Thanks." she mumbles gratefully under her breath as she fiddles in putting on her new knot. Hopefully N'sync wouldn't be able to find her at the dance either...

 

Pyrene watches Quara blow a kiss to N'sync and snorts. "I think you'd better stay away from the wine too," she mutters. Lis merely gets the sweetest of smiles. Looks like Quara, Lis and Pyrene will play a teetotalling trio at the party then.

 

Sora was here all the time. Yes-She-Was. Catiminith, too, as the human half of the pair "Eeep!"s loudly and scoots forward. "Thankee." Lyri gets a beam, as the knot is taken. Beam. Beam. Happiness.

 

Loren just sort of.. beams R'ave-wards. Point being that she's been staring over at him since she first showed up, she's not really going to be staring at anyone else -- leather or no. He's in leather, besides. So he'll just fulfil her leather-looking quota for the day, or something. Bakerlet sways s'more, mumbling something about indecent amounts of weyrlings before 'ooh'ing and directing a faint beam Sora-wards. "Sora! Yay." Beam, glow, swoon. Lo's happy.

 

Pyrene ohs, spying Sora moving forward. "Oh, Sora! Congratulations!" she calls out, thrilled for another friend.

 

R'ave very tactily skims his eyes to and fro, a hoot-holler released for Sora. She delt with him on the sands, she deserves a little extra energy.

 

Nalahni goes home.

 

Settled skillfully between Mzadith's ridges of wizardly raspberry, Cayl snaps to attention.

 

Ilare gives a vague chuckle, nodding.  "Heh, no worries.."  The older riders are noted and smiled at, Lis' catcalls simply hmmed at, before the Oblividar kickstarts with a shrug of her shoulders.

 

R'ave takes off his knot.

 

Sraine takes off her knot.

 

 

R'ave puts on his knot.

 

 

R'ave (#19778)

 

Flaming. Tangerine verdure seems to spread in a brushfire 'cross the boy's head, shorn tresses shimmering with marigold-lightened spikes of orange. A few unevenly layered thorns of chrome-bright fire-strands curl over the brink of his hairline - but his hair's length is gone. Brought out by his sizzling locks, lavender-burgundy irises --shot through with liquid cyan-- are singed, burnished, and opulently livid. Alabaster smoothes an unruddied complexion, health evident in the pale limning of his resiliently angled face; feminine cheekbones swirl to a wide jawbone and a thin, vaguely asymmetrical mouth. He scarcely manages to peak over five and a half feet in height, dimensions slight and slim -- carved with compact, etched lines of corded, wiry muscle. A little ball of muscle he may be, his lean body conceals it well, lank limbs sprawling, entire aura that of casual objectivity.

 

Achingly brilliant pink is tempered with shading by earthy, dull ocher, the earthy cerise cutting in a superciliously low-slung waistline, a rather generous division between the swarthy fawn belt and his tattoo-circled navel. Tight through lissome hips and thighs, 'hide gives a fraction at his knees, spreading to cover the chunky-heeled protrusions of burnished tawny boots. Dusty quartz colors his same-shaded jacket, a high, sharply folded collar leading to the tapering arms lined with glittery argent llama wool, the same puffly substance pedantically poofed around the taut jacket's hip-bone skimming hem. A sleeveless, pale beige shirt is worn beneath, the silky material glimmery, designed with a veneer-subtle snakeskin motif, some sparkly second-skin sisal.

 

Ungainly lengths of dusk's poignant blue and evening's umbral ebon flip and kink 'round the bronzer's shoulder, rider's pride worn with a casual complacency. Through and through ribbons a slapdash spiral of crimson-obscured bronze, silver ghosting ruddiness.

 

He is awake and looks alert.

 

R'ave is 18 Turns, 6 months, and 26 days old.

 

N'sync is aghast. Sraine /left/ him? His love? The shape of his heart? Clapping a hand over said heart, the brownrider manages a dramactic collapse against Backstreeth's shoulder. Ah, the meaning of being lonely. But N'sync's not one to pout for long.. and besides, there's still Quara. "Later, dearest," he mouths toward her, flashing grin already reappearing. Quick recoverer, isn't it?

 

Above,  Erranth glides in from the north.

 

Tatia's still clapping.. and clapping. Oh, and did she mention clapping? On top of that is the beaming.. and the grinning.. and the.. well, you get the idea. She's excited.

 

Above,  Erranth drops down towards the Bowl.

 

Erranth drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.

 

Annalee slips down Erranth's proffered foreleg, landing easily on the ground.

 

Sraine finally fixes things with her knot and glances over to where she used to be, barely catching N'sync's mouthed words. Shudder. If she could help it, she was going to try to avoid him as much as possible. She remembered the last dance they had together and it was something she'd rather forget. Hiding herself behind Ilare a little better then she was, she sighs deeply. What did she do to attract his a ttention anyways?

 

Lis manages to coerce a smidge of freedom from Alymath's overbearing neediness, leaving the green to fidget unhappily as she drifts like a wayward butterfly towards - and hopefully not into - Pyrene. "Sora? Sora of the shapely rear?" she demands to know, fluttering around the goldrider. It's not /her/ fault she's always proddy during graduations.

 

Annalee slips down off Erranth, murmuring apologies at her lateness towards the -- weyrlings?  No longer!

 

Mzadith hugs the ground and watches placidly as Cayl clambers down the straps-'ladder' and lands easily upon the ground.

 

Pyrene knows it's not Lis' fault. It's Aly's and that is why it's the green that gets the full benefit of the queenrider's wry look. "Yes, Sora of the nice butt," she soothes Lis. "But not as nice as R'sli's." Pyrene has opinions and she'll stick to them.

 

Sora skips backwards, melting amidst the throng of people to cling to a certain blue foreleg. Safety. Rock-esque. "See, Cat? We're graduated!"

 

Noegip blinks in from ::between::!

 

Lyri calls out the remaining 'lings, making them riders with one motion of her hand, and then looks about, grinning slightly.  "You will all have a rest day and are to remember to make sure your dragons are excersized until you are tapped into your wings. Some of you will be tapped today, some in a day or so."  And she's going to stay away, really.

 

 

Catiminith rumbles quietly, eyes whirling placidly in contented pastels. Graduated. That means they can go.. do things. Or something. Right? In any case, Sora has a new knot -- more things to sniff at. Sniff-sniff.

 

Quara flutters her hand at N'sync and winks, giggling. And then she claps for Sora, and cheers, and eyes Lis. "Well, yes, dear. But she's not the only one with a nice... you know." She grins brightly, if a bit lasciviously, and chuckles as a tailtip comes to poke her. "Hey! Watch it, Saku," she retorts. "I know they're done. And I'm going!" So, without further ado, she picks up her bags and toddles over to the newly-made riders.

 

It's understandable for Cayl to be a bit disoriantated at the moment.  Yep.  The weyrling...no..  Rider now *gasp!* shakes her head a few times, leaning against Mzadith for mental support as well as physical.  Her old knot had been lost between (It was an accident!  Really!)  And now she was another shiny new one.  "I can't believe we really did it."  She glances around at her fellows and flashes a smile, though looks majorly thoughtful.  Her eyes unfocused and closely linked with Mzadith's.

 

G'deon nods, practically beaming at Lyri.  And Pyrene, and Lis and Annalee and Quara and Ciera.  See we're just like you now.  Be afraid.  Be very afraid.

 

Pyrene is afraid. Very afraid.

 

And the weyr trembled in fear.

 

Sora beams. Cackle. Pyrene should be.

 

As her rider claps, Vespurath remains /mostly/ still, sending only a significant glance at the stupid rest that her tattered wing must stay upon.

 

Tapped?  Eeee..  Another part of dragonlife this brown rider never expected.  Rider... Huh.  Brown Rider. Has a nice ring, no?  We done?  Well, whether we are or not doesn't matter.  Ilar spins on her toe and wraps her dragon's muzzle in a brief hug.  We've GRADUATED!

 

Definately.

 

Lis isn't focused to notice, let along worry, musing faintly on the prospect of R'sli's hindquaters - and if previous behavior is any indication, she'll probably be inspecting his butt next time she can find him.

 

Mwahahahaaaaa...

 

Sasha flashes an extatic smile at Pyrene. "Caught up with you!" she mouths across the crowd.

 

Adanac steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

 

R'ave is shocked -- Lyri? Grinning? His eyes narrow, searching around her face for signs of a mask. "Hey, Soq, look -- we're not weyrlings anymore." Soquiltih tilts his head, looking decidedly unaffected. Well, duh.

 

Pyrene snorts at Sasha and mouths back: "Not until Bran's first flight."

 

Chanticoth's muzzle dips with the enthusiasm of the hug, briefly considering raising his neck and lifting his rider off her feet. But no, he'll just sit here and rumble happily.

 

Sraine turns around and fiercely hugs Akilth, who had snuck up behind her at some point and stuck his snout against her side--as custom. "I can't believe it...we're rider's now!" And then she goes silent, stuck in her happiness.

 

Tatia offers Vespurath a comforting pat - with her lef hand, off course. At least she's got nothing worse than a bandage. "Vesp.." she breathes softly. "We're 'riders. For real." And suddenly a loud whoop escapes as an arm lifts into the air. "Kamikaze!"

 

Mzadith isn't one to sit by idly. Instead, his eyes lock with his lifemate's for a long moment before char-tipped head slips upward toward the sky, and, eyes whirling, he utters a long trumpet of silence. Weyrlings, are riders! Doodooo!

 

Lyri sighs with relief.. or resolution... but move off she does, toward the barracks of the former 'lings (Fear, for she must deal with Cadge spawn now).  "Alright you lot, don't embarrass me by getting sloppy but there's a keg of the best wine I could lay hands on in the living caverns, and it's all for you."  Which is quite a gift, coming from Lyri.

 

Yao blinks in from ::between::!

 

Cadgwith sends a cry across the bowl, adding her own congratulations to the uproar. Wings fanning, she's proud of all the new ones, even if she's more interested in the next batch of 'lings due to graduate. /Her/ babies.

 

Ilare blinks as she releases Chanticoth, turning at Tatia's whoop.  Beaming, she too punches the air with a triumphant fist.  "Kamikaze!" she echoes, crowing the old name loudly.  We did it!  Yay!

 

Annalee smirks, then breaks into applause as Erranth bugles a congratulations to the newly-graduated.  "Well done!"

 

Loren rises as quickly as she can, mingling through too-many weyrbrats and riders in an attempt to get in the general area of her weyrmate. "/R'ave/!" Lips spread in an overjoyed grin, and the bakerlet manages to toss herself at the nearest pink-limb in an attempt to glomp it. "You're graduated!" No, Lo, of course he didn't know. A beam towards the minibronzer, and then a vague fingerwiggle is directed towards the ex-'ling collective. "Congratulations!"

 

Released, Chanticoth can now rear his head back, bugling happily and loudly. We sooo rule!

 

"Is this the part where we all get drunk?" calls Lis over the general din of the crowd Quara wards; score and sear the see-sawing, or whatever it was Pyrene mentioned. She wants to see some action, so letteth the free wine and free love flow!

 

Mzadith isn't the only one to be exhillerated by the effects that are made in turning to riders -- all at once! And thus, the injured little green, in reply to her own rider's happiness, tips her own head back, lifting her neck and trumpeting a shrill type of bugle into the air. Kamikaze!

 

G'deon continues to smile softly as he turns to Nylanth, hands rising to pull the bronzen head closer to his own as he places an adoring nuzzle on the bronzen snout.  "True, Nyls, very true."  The pair begin shuffling their way off to the side.

 

Lyri walks to the Lakeside.

 

Pyrene abandons her dragon with a roll of her eyes and takes Lis' arm. "Actually, maybe we should dance first. Or sample some cream puffs..." she suggests, steering the green rider deftly towards the caverns, with or without Quara, but most probably with.

 

Pyrene steps carefully to the Caverns.

 

Lis ambles aimlessly to the Caverns.

 

Niamhyth takes off.

 

Above,  Niamhyth takes off from Central Bowl

 

Above,  Niamhyth goes home.

 

Quara finally makes it to the new riders, having already enlisted a strapping bronze rider to carry the larger of the bags. "Okay, can I talk to a couple of you? Let's see... G'deon, N'sync, Sraine," she didn't put them together on purpose, honest! "and... Cayl?" C'mon, line up. "I have something important to say!" Her voice, while not /quite/ shouting, still carries well over the general noise of the crowd. Which is already quieter for lack of Pyrene and Lis.

 

Annalee wanders over to where Sora stands, poking her lightly in the back.  "Congratulations, bluerider," she offers, eyes dancing as she watches the gir.

 

Cadgwith is here though and can make up for it if needs be.

 

R'ave grins lopsided as Soquilith chimes his brassy voice into a keen to match the others' an arm secured 'round Loren. "Thanks, Lo'," he murmurs quietly, amused expression tinged with pink -- like all the rest of him. "I.." And here the boy pales, "have to go change.. real quick. I'll be right back."

 

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

 

R'ave appears from ground weyr's overhung shadows.

 

Cayl blinks as she glances around at her fellows.  Some in tears, most jumping around like their heads have been decapitated (Yes, I mean it -this- time), and some as quiet as Cayl.  Hearing Quara the blue slowly leans off her dragon, staring.  This couldn't be good:  It involved N'sync.  She makes her way over slowly, glancing at the others before staring silently at Quara.  "Yes, Ma'am?"

 

Sora squeaks softly and twirls around, hand still resting on that big, blue, Cati-forearm. "Oh! Annalee-m'am!" Girl learned her lessons, yes-she-did. The other bluerider gets a beam. "Thankee!"

 

Sraine Starts slightly as Quara walks over and motions for her to line up. What? Er...okay. Hearing N'sync's name called too wasn't very comforting though. Ick. Striding over and keeping close to Cayl, she wipes away the slight tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. This was so....special! She was trying hard not to cry.

 

Lis steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

 

N'sync swaggers directly toward Quara, brow arced. "Yes?" He questions, lips lifting smugly. Oh.. and a /Sraine/ too. Even a Cayl. Each gets a gaze that's meant to be charming.. but falls more on the leering side. They're all he ever wanted. Well, them, and maybe Quara, too.

 

Aten suddenly appears from ::between:: with a brief draft of cold air.

 

Aten glides, with only the occasional smooth wing dip, to the Caverns.

 

Just when you thought it was safe to go back into the bowl.... Pyrene and Lis reemerge and this time they come bearing cream-puffs. "What's taking you so long?" Pyrene demands. They're wasting valuable nibbling time.

 

G'deon stops midstride as Quara speaks up.  He turns, giving her and the others a quizzical look.

 

Ilare examines her leathers, but stays lingering, eavesdropping on the group called forth and together by Quara.  Lets hear this, then get ready for da party, right Chan? Eyes turn to her dragon, and she nods.  "Yup, you can.  The whole.."  well they're not a wing anymore, are they? "Clutch can."

 

Everybody loves creampuffs. 'cause Damia made 'em. *beam*

 

Journey blinks in from ::between::!

 

Lis hasn't wasted any valuable time chowing down - she's got a puff clutched in each hand, chomping away in between lauding the pastries. "Such succulent cream! Clouds in my mouth, crisped by sun's golden rays!" Right. "So, 'Rene, what're we doing now?" Where's the /booze/?

 

Quara beams. Look. They listened to her! Must be that shiny new knot. It's all gold. And loopy. And... "Oh, goody. Alright, people, I've got a little something for you." She digs around in her bags, and resurfaces with a wine bottle in one hand, a badge that matches the one for Inferno in her other. "G'deon? I'd like you to have these." Beam. And in short order, three more sets are handed out, to Cayl, Sraine, and N'sync. "Surprise!"

 

Adanac suddenly disappears ::between::!

 

Annalee grins at Sora, eyes still dancing wickedly.  "Actually, it's now Wingleader.  Or at least it is during drills."  With that, she pulls a crisp, new Mudslide knot from a pouch, dangling it in front of Sora enticingly.  "That is, of course, if you accept..."  Wastes no time, does she?  And apparently neither does Quara!

 

Well, Mza knew what was going on -- really he did. Well, maybe not, but we can just pretend. Either way, his Cayl has been accepted into *gasp* Zephyr. That's frightening. *Cough* Another trumpet rips itself forth from ash-tipped muzzle and the blue extends his wings in order to make a shadow on the ground as well. Head is thrust forward and run into Cayl's back. As if she needs some sort of encouragement in order to be accepted into a wing.

 

Sasha has been promoted to Wingrider.

 

Kinecha moves purposefully in from the Guards Headquarters.

 

Sraine is quite startled at the badge AND the wine. Er...what? Not quite comprehending this for a moment, it then dawned on her with startling clarity. Oh! "Thanks!" she murmers, eying the winebottle a little dubiously. She didn't drink wine..so this one was probably going into storage. Or, at least, saved for a VERY special occasion. Akilth pushes his nose into her side, and the quiet rider hugs her dark-pale brown out of excitement...a little unnoticing the others that have joined Inferno with her. Maybe she should be paying attention, no?

 

Sora stares at Annalee for a moment, owlish and saucer-esque. "Oh! Oh, yes!" Head bobs, emphatically. "I'd like that, Annalee-Wingleader-m'am." And a hesitant beam creeps stealthily up.

 

Soquilith tries to look disconnected from his rider, who went frm mostly weenie to all weenie in thirty seconds flat. Some people just don't need vast amounts of time to look... like an idiot. "Oh, don't be so pessimistic. It was your idea I make the bet in the first place, so it's your fault that I'm dressed like this." Booze? And a F'ishky Lis -- they go hand in hand.

 

Bay appears out of nowhere, dropping you a note. You sense from him that it is from Ilare, who is looking for you in Chanticoth's Ledge (#18676).

 

Give it to 'em baby! Uh huh. N'sync's still offering that flash of teeth as he leans in.. /really/ leans in, mind you... to take the accepted badge. "I do hope that other's for us, too," he draws. "A little post-show party?" His head tilts toward Sraine, and he grins. Now here's a way to get her to relax..

 

Cayl blinks a few times as suddenly she's staring down at a bottle of wine, and a patch.  Oooo, a new shiny one two!  To match her knot, which she still hasn't put on.  She'll do that later, however.  "I...I..I..."  And there's N'sync.  Whimper.  But Sraine?  And G'deon?  Is this a /good/ thing?  "Wine?"  Is all she manages to say in the end before looking up at Quara, her new...Wingleader?  Suddenly she jumps up, yipping.  "Destruction on Wings meets Fire!"  Out of the frying pan and into the fire?  A sudden wince at the pain in her side calms her instantly, and she blushes and nods.  "Thank you, Quara!  I mean, Ma'am.  I mean Wingleader?"  She's stuttering.  Yep.

 

Loren isn't sane -- not by generic Pernese standards, anyways. However, the standards of the 'reaches vary greatly -- so maybe she is. A faint, half-sympathetic giggle is directed Pyrene-wards, and then the bakerlet.. peers.. at R'ave, indigo optics blinking rapidly. "R'avey?" Blink-blink -- he's in a dress? Another vague beam Pyre-wards, and then she scuttles towards her weyrmate, expression.. wary. And various other things. "..you're.. in a dress."

 

Lis wanders away from Pyrene - probably not a good idea - until she's glaring up at Quara. Lovely view up the bluerider's nose, really. "That's not fair! I saw him first! He's the cloud of /my/ sky," shrills the greenrider, hands on hips before she's inspired to fling a chunk of puff - cream and all - at her one-time friend. "Dirty wench!"

 

Annalee grins and pokes a finger out, tapping it on Sora's nose.  "And /now/ you can just call me Alee.  Welcome to Mudslide.  Drills are in the afternoon, so you've today off.  Congratulations, wingrider!"

 

Pyrene stops watching R'ave in fascination and hastens awkwardly to Lis' side. "Er, Lis, dearling," she mumbles soothingly. "Quara doesn't want to steal him. She probably wants to share. You have done before." Somewhere along the line, soothing changed to acerbic.

 

Tatia watches the quartet of newly-tapped Inferno-riders with an amused glance, and something - she'll blame it on the excitement of the day - prompts a catcall. "Lucky you!" she calls across the bowl. "Get to ride with N'sync /all/ the time now..." Aimed at Sraine and Cayl, of course. Though you never know.. Maybe N'sync likes Gid's leathers, too.

 

 

 

Quara chuckles at Cayl, licks her lips at N'sync, grins at Sraine, and nods to G'deon. And then her jaw kind of drops. "Lis? Are you... Oh. Right. Aly! Aly, she's acting weird again!" Let the green take care of her. And then she sidles up to G'deon and N'sync. Her men. Hers. She got to them first. "You can have R'ave. In a dress. Didn't stop you with D'renn after all." Schwing!

 

 

Sraine finally notices the others that came with her. Cayl first anyways. "Cay!" she murmers happily before spotting N'sync and cringes. Oh SHARDS...what did she just get into. Wait...party! She forgot! She needed to go fetch her new dress. Somehow she was talked into getting it made. AT Tatia's outburst she flushes and scowls. SHUSH! BLech.

 

Vespurath, meanwhile, isn't quite so interested in N'sync but rather at his dragon. Backstreeth. Now /there's/ an interesting dragon. And he looks ever-so-wise. *cough* *swoon* Maybe he'll tell her a story. Whilst Vesp's body needs to remain still, her neck can still snake out, slipping over toward the teeny-bopping blue.

 

Luckily for the creampuff, those present, and Quara's nose, Lis listens to the wisdom of Mother Pyrene. "Share. But she's /still/ a dirty wench, right?" Eyes turn towards the goldrider for confirmation, fixing there despite the mention of R'ave-in-a-dress.

 

Sora bobs again, fully beaming and prancing a little. "Thankee, Alee." And, to the blue beside her with a slight tilt of head, "Hear that, Cati? Drills! In the afternoon!" Her enthusiasm may yet be toned down. But not right now. Beam.

 

"I lost a bet, Loren," R'ave assures with no great amount of chagrin. "I like the boots.." Because, as everyone is aware, thigh boots are a staple in every good bipolar bronzerider's wardrobe, of course. Quara is tilted a pout -- what's wrong with his dress?

 

N'sync oos. Literally. Audibly. A brow lifts to waggle at Quara - maybe /she's/ the shape of his heart. Or the flavor of the moment.. whichever works. "I hear there'll be dancing," he murmurs, voice low. Hey, who needs wine when you're N'sync?

 

"Isn't that how you like her?" Pyrene asks of the proddy one, dryly.

 

Annalee just starts giggling, nose crinkling merrily.  "You just better be grateful I didn't pull dawn drills on you."

 

G'deon backs off a step... or two.  "Thanks again Quara... wingmates," he adds, grinning at the others. "Um... I'm just going to go change."

 

G'deon ascends with practiced steps up to Nylanth's bronzen neck and settles in between two neckridges.

 

Nylanth takes off.

 

Above,  Nylanth takes off from Central Bowl

 

Above,  Nylanth soars in for a landing on Nylanth's ledge.

 

You leap up to grab Branwyth's straps, and pull yourself up, swinging your leg astride the misty green neckridges.

 

 

Quara winks at Pyrene, and tosses a bottle of wine at Lis. "Here. Be happy." The rest is dutifully taken away by the same bronzerider, and she can devote her attention to N'sync. "I'd heard that too," she agrees. "I've got to get my dress, but I'll be out soon," is promised, and she mounts up without further ado. "And be sure to bring that wine to the party! You all ought to get drunk," she informs them.

 

Sraine tilts her head to Quara and Cayl, trying to ignore N'sync for now. Perhaps he had forgotten about her and would leave her alone at the dancing portion. Right? RIGHT?? "I'm going to go get changed.." she murmers. Yes...all behold: the first time Ine has ever worn a dance in public. GASP.

 

Tatia's gaze slides away from the tapped and toward Vespurath.. just in time, it seems. "/Vesp!/" Could she sound any more frantic? Any more desparate. Oh, and an excuse.. thanks to G'deon's floating words. "Come on. We've got to go get ready." So what if she doesn't need her dragon to retrieve her dress. So what if Vesp doesn't have to come? She /is/ coming.. because Tat's not leaving her here wiht Backstreeth.

 

Sora gives Annalee the full, toothy grin, amidst removing one knot and tying the other on. "Oh, I wouldn't have minded," riderlet responds cheerfully. "At least, not right now. We all graduated!" Very good, Sora.

 

Loren 'oh's quietly, peering at his clothing warily before wrapping an arm around his waist and snuggling close again. Even if he is.. dress-ified. "They're nice boots," is commented eventually, bakerlet taking a careful hold on the flowery-circlet in her hair as she tilts her head to get a look at the boots. Just the boots. Really. That's why she's leaning back. "Mm-hmm. Nice." And then the bakerlet sticks her tongue out in the general direction of Quara-and-Co. "I want R'ave in a dress." Lis can have.. somebody else.

 

You take off.

 

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 summer midmorning.  The sun rises and warms the land, dispensing any lingering chill with its golden warmth.  Tiny puffs of clouds begin to dot the sky.

 

Sasha (#19192)

 

Elfin is the only word that can describe this young woman. Her tousled hair, once short and boyish has been allowed to grow until it cascades in long curly layers, as dark as klah at midnight, (although now streaked with brilliant blue spotches of dye), around and below her shoulders, Lashes as dark as her hair, are long and accentuate startlingly large brown eyes, which are dance with fire and mischief. Standing at a petite 5'3, her body is lithe and slim, with a tiny waist and warmly tanned skin. She is as agile as a cat and her limbs are taut and strong. Her once untrusting 'hands-off' demeanor, developed over years of ill-treatment has slowly vanished and she now radiates an air of calm, but determined contentment.

 

Her long dark hair, freed from its usual tight braid, cascades in shiny waterfall of curls, over her creamy bared shoulders, and down to the middle of her back. Her throat is only adorned with the intricacy of twisted silver wires threaded randomly with transparent palest emerald hued glass beads, which catch the light and resemble water droplets settled on a perfect rose petal. And what a vision in misty, mistletoe green satin shot with stillwater blue, she is! Her gown, rests just off the shoulder, with a scooped decolletage, and a tailored bodice, which clings, emphasising her exquisitely tiny waist, and then falls in soft draping folds to her feet where the fabric swings with the slightest of movements, inviting the wearer to dance. It is a creation reminiscent of flowing liquidity, swirling around her simply green slippered feet like the eddies of a mountain stream.

 

Sasha's shoulders are adorned with her proudly worn knot...a double twisted cord of royal blue and black, with a single loop, threaded through with a misty green ribbon, indicating that she is a fully fledged Rider of a beautiful green dragon, at High Reaches Weyr.

 

You head north towards Weyrleaders and Hatching Sands.

 

Above the Northern Bowl

 

Spires' magnitude and towering presence looms over the northern aspect of the bowl's sky; the narrow nonuniformity of their perpendicular rise gives way to depict the overall spontanuity of the weyr. Seasonably unpredictable thermals keep you aloft with this portion of the sky, oft to be slightly tepid due to the ocean's close proximity. At this vantage rests the weyrs and ledges of the weyrleaders themselves. Meanwhile, a panoramic scene unfolds below: numerous dragons, riders, and weyrfolk often lounge below, despite the seasonaly changes from winter to summer, and visa versa. To the northwest, the perpetual warmth of the hatching sands provides an influx of inquisitive visitors and possible candidates, while the newness of the weyrling barracks resides to the east.

 

  It is a summer midmorning.  The sun rises and warms the land, dispensing any lingering chill with its golden warmth.  Tiny puffs of clouds begin to dot the sky.

 

Higher and higher you go, circle up past the Spires themselves.

 

Above High Reaches

 

Quite, quite high, nothing braves these heights but stone and dragon and cloud; the Star Stones jut dutifully above the Weyr proper, flayed by the mountain winds that are consistant at this altitude whilst the rest spreads below, protected by its crown of jagged stone spires'-teeth.

 

  It is a summer midmorning.  The sun rises and warms the land, dispensing any lingering chill with its golden warmth.  Tiny puffs of clouds begin to dot the sky.

 

Brown Chanticoth is here.

 

You rise up and cross over the weyr wall, moving out over the open land.

 

Above the Mountains

 

Swirling air flows buffet you from all sides, a culmination of the threads of many different weather patterns as you soar high above the Alpine Meadows, a rippling, shimmering sea of green beckoning from below. The blackness of volcanic rock cuts off your view of the weyr, though the Star Stones remain as a reference point, forever reaching for the stars.

 

Clean, cold, crisp air takes your breath away, flavoured with the tang of a myrriad of different aromas.

 

  It is a summer midmorning.  The sun rises and warms the land, dispensing any lingering chill with its golden warmth.  Tiny puffs of clouds begin to dot the sky.

 

You are shocked by the increased winds that whip around you.

 

On the Upper Alpine Meadows below, Kernow blinks in from ::between::!

 

Chanticoth glides smoothly in from the southwest.

 

Chanticoth drops down through the heavy winds to land in Alpine Meadows.

 

On the Upper Alpine Meadows below, Chanticoth lands gently despite the buffeting winds above.

 

On the Upper Alpine Meadows below, Ilare swings a leg over Chanticoth's neck and slides down his shoulder, landing gently on the ground.

 

You drop down through buffeting thermals.

 

Upper Alpine Meadows

 

A vast alpine meadow stretches to the foot a glacier, flanked by the flat reach of a dozen more peaks; snow lurks at the higher elevations, capping the valleys in thick, endless layers of ice and new-fallen flakes. In contrast, during the spring and summer months a carpet of wildflowers spreads over a base of springy green turf, perfect for picnics and days outdoors.  A small stream runs off towards the distant weyr, running cool and clear from out of the nearby blue-toned glacier. 

 

  It is a summer midmorning.  The sun rises and warms the land, dispensing any lingering chill with its golden warmth.  Tiny puffs of clouds begin to dot the sky.

 

Draped for sunning on the large volcanic rocks is Kernow.

 

Blue Dianth and brown Chanticoth are here.

 

Ilare is here.

 

You land on a rolling slope, dotted by volcanic rocks.

 

Branwyth senses Ilare looking at her.

 

You slide with great care over Branwyth's neck and down one obligingly extended forearm, until you reach the ground.

 

You notice Ilare looking at you.

 

Ilare (#17150)

 

A bright smile filled with warmth shines out from creamy skin, golden tan faded thanks to snow and cold. Oval face is framed by red-gold curls, recently trimmed short so that the tips of her mane stroke her cheeks and chin gently. Now, only her fringe occasionally obscures amber eyes light enough to be golden, bangs twisting slightly like spirals. Faded freckles are scattered across her nose and cheekbones, the final hints of childhood pudginess fading to the faintest hint. Not willowy - she'll never be that - but strongly built and sturdy, Ilare is as agile on her feet as a dragon midair. Having reached 5'6, she gives the impression of being taller through sheer presence and an insatiable friendliness she extends outwards. Alert and cheerful, her eyes seem to sparkle more since her Impression of Chanticoth, glowing almost bright gold when they're together.

 

In a rich, lustrous cinnabar, understated elegance defines this gown, turning the wearer into someone who catches more than a few eyes, the perfect counterpart to her similarly shaded dragon. Long sleeves end in V shaped cuffs, intruding a little way onto the hand proper, while they start a little way off the shoulders, carrying on from the dress's deep, but not scandalously low, neckline. The bodice is somewhat more enhancing of figure, following the lines of her body, emphasising the waistline and bust. It is laced up at the back with delicate-looking russet ribbons in a criss-cross pattern. The long skirt, unlike the bodice, is somewhat loose and free floating, swirling around Ilare's legs with her strides. Near the waist of the garment, careful stichwork, characteristic of a weaver, depicts three dragons in flight, their wings held at various angles. All are done in shades that can only be described as brandy, cinnamon and klah. The accompanying deep-brown hairband is likewise precisely embroidered with a single dragon, stitched in the appropriate hues of brown, representing Ilare's own lifemate, wings outstretched as if in flight.  Perched on Ilare's shoulder is Sethe.

 

Double twisted cords, blackest midnight and royalty's blue, have been braided with a bright brandy-butter brown ribbon and fashioned into a single loop, proclaiming her to be a full fledged Brown Rider of High Reaches Weyr.

 

Cadgwith lands gently despite the buffeting winds above.

 

Pyrene carefully descends the cliff of Cadgwith's shoulder and foreleg until she's safely on land again.

 

You notice Pyrene looking at you.

 

Ilare carefully brushes off her skirts, eyes shining as she turns to watch Branwyth land.  Sasha is waved at, beamed at, and dress admired.  Time to gossip like the girls they are, no?  "Sasha! You look great!"  Minding her own fancy clothes she heads towards the greenling. 

 

Above, Soquilith flies in from the southwest.

 

Above, Soquilith drops down through the heavy winds to land in Alpine Meadows.

 

Soquilith lands gently despite the buffeting winds above.

 

Above, Alymath beats too-large wings against the air in from the southwest.

 

Above, Alymath drops down through the heavy winds to land in Alpine Meadows.

 

Alymath lands gently despite the buffeting winds above.

 

The great barrow of Soquilith's upper body shifts, stable legs no hindrance to R'ave's otherwise risky dismount.

 

Sasha grins a little bashfully down at herself. "First proper dress I ever owned! Kinda wierd the way it swings around your feet isn't it! " she gazes with awe at Ilare's own dress. "But that is magnificent! I love the embroidered dragons."

 

You notice R'ave looking at you.

 

The great barrow of Soquilith's upper body shifts, stable legs no hindrance to Loren's otherwise risky dismount.

 

Pyrene glances delightedly around at the girls, jealous of their finery. "Oh, you look so nice... and here I'm bulging like a gather-drunk," she coos, moving to embrace friends. "And nobody will ask me to dance, I know it!" she laments loudly enough for the men to hear.

 

R'ave catches Pyrene's lament, tilting a rather wicked grin toward the goldrider as he dismounts, a hand affectionately whumping his lifemate's shoulder, then lifted to Loren for assistence. "That's not true, Pyrene..." he sing-songs delightedly.

 

 

Ilare beams at the compliment from Sasha, nodding as she looks at the designs.  "It is, isn't it? Chan adores.."  Pyrene is chuckles faintly at, before the brown li--RIDER (so /strange/ now) snorts slightly.  "Nonsense.  I'm sure you'll find yyourself whisked off your feet by many a rider."

 

Between sharp, moonlight-silvered 'ridges, Hyde appears from ::between:: in a cloak of dark blue and a flash of polished talons.

 

Above, Akilth appears from ::between:: with a twist and a flutter of wings.

 

Above, Akilth drops down through the heavy winds to land in Alpine Meadows.

 

Akilth lands gently despite the buffeting winds above.

 

Pyrene flutters eyelashes at R'ave coyly. "Oh isn't it? I hope that you'll make good those words later," she calls, before beginning the all important business of snacking on the buffet laid out for them. She spares a wink for Ilare though: "I certainly intend to be," she whispers to her.

 

Sraine swings a leg over and slides down Akilth's neck to land gently on the ground.

 

Lis tries not to bump 'gainst any sharp joints as she slides down Alymath's forearm.

 

A flurry of lime green slithers down Alymath's side - but luckily, it's blonde-haired rather than black. Yes, that /is/ D'renn's dress, but it looks considerably better on Lis, who's busy untangling the skirts after dismounting from her lifemate.

 

Above, Sakuruth glides smoothly in from the southwest.

 

Above, Sakuruth drops down through the heavy winds to land in Alpine Meadows.

 

Sakuruth lands gently despite the buffeting winds above.

 

Quara slithers down Sakuruth's neck and side, avoiding one indigo wing.

 

Chanticoth bounces on his forelegs impatiently. We've /done/ the boring bit. He wants to get down and boogie. Dancing would be nice too.

 

 

 

Between sharp, moonlight-silvered 'ridges, Hyde *can send you N'sync? Boyband with bad comeon's?

 

Pyrene raises eyebrows at both Quara's copy and Lis' original. "Dare I ask what D'renn is wearing?" she wonders of them. Hopefully more than his shrunken boxers. Chuckling, shaking her head, she flicks a glance to Chanticoth. "Ilare... keep your dragon away from the wine," she recommends.

 

As if that piffling amount of wine could get this big brown lump drunk. Chanti'd need at least twice the amount in order to get tipsy.

 

Sraine carefully tries to slide down Akilth's side without flipping her dress up. By Faranth, this was much easier in leathers. Somehow managing to dismount without embarrassing herself completely, she brushes down some wrinkly folds and then tries to make herself look presentable. Goodness she felt awkward in a dress, but she promised she'd wear it. Stepping away from her dragon and up to the others gathered, Akilth goes off to mingle. He wasn't a big party person, but he'd enjoy himself for his One and Only's sake.

 

Sasha has been promoted to Management.

 

Sasha has been promoted to Wingrider.

 

Quara pouts at Pyrene. "This isn't anything like what D'renn had on! It's only /one/ layer, and the neckline is lower," -- technically, it goes all the way to her waist, see, where the belt holds it in! -- "and it doesn't make me look fat. Doesn't make Lis look fat, either," she points out, with a grin.

 

"I follow through," R'ave demurely shoots to the goldrider as he picks through the field of flowers, tugging surreptitiously at his the leathery crinkles of 'hide 'round his thighs. Um. Ow. "Aw.. don't you all look," the bronzer pauses here, searching for a adjective not involving the word 'smut' (not that the generalization wouldn't include himself), "You all look good. /Very/ good."

 

Above, Catiminith cavorts, all aerodynamic skill and flashing orchid, in from the southwest.

 

Above, Catiminith drops down through the heavy winds to land in Alpine Meadows.

 

Catiminith lands gently despite the buffeting winds above.

 

Egan wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Lis' carefully-contrived illusion of floating is even easier now, what with that voluminous skirt to hide her short steps under. Drifting serenely across the meadows, she gives Pyrene an innocent, ignorant little smile. "I left him to his own devices. But he did say the dress looks far better on me than it did on him." The key word being /on/, unlike Quara's dress. Wafted by the breeze R'ave-wards, she shamelessly follows the shine of boots from toes to... Faranth only knows, asking with wide-eyed wonder, "Do those go /all/ the way up?"

 

You notice Pyrene looking at you.

 

Evanorah wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Fennara wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Marianne wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Cast 'tween shimmering orchid and ridges' elegant curve, from Catiminith's neck, "Thanks for the ride," Kinecha says and gives the dragon a light thump on the shoulder before she gets off.

 

A touch of orchid shimmers with Kinecha's descent, leaving behind Catiminith's elegant indigo ridges for the more stolid support of the ground.

 

Cast 'tween shimmering orchid and ridges' elegant curve, from Catiminith's neck, "Here we are!" Sora beams at Kinecha, swiftly unbuckling straps and all that. And she slides down herself.

 

A touch of orchid shimmers with Sora's descent, leaving behind Catiminith's elegant indigo ridges for the more stolid support of the ground.

 

Sasha wanders over to greet the harpers who have just arrived. "Hello!"

 

Delilah wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Emeril wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Quara then turns away from Lis and Pyrene, and begins looking through the group. "Oh, N'sy-ync!" she carols. "Where are you?" She dressed up especially for him. Not that she minds the leers she's getting or anything.

 

Evanorah slips into the vicinity with her pack banging against one hip and her gitar bumping along on the other.  She gives a shy smile and a wave to the greeter.

 

Pyrene spins brightly around, welcoming and congratulation people by turns. "We have harpers?" she cries, hearing words to that effect. "R'ave, don't forget you owe me a dance! Lis... have you seen what happened to those little spicy finger-root sandwiches?" Food and dancing and /so/ little time.

 

 

Sraine eyes R'ave and the interesting....outfit he has on. She won't say anything, however, because most likely he lost a bet or something. It was usually how any of them..well...most of them ended up in dresses and the like. Tugging on the end of one of her sleeves, she fidgets and hangs back, unsure of where to actually GO. As someone shouts for N'sync--Quara from the sound of it--she looks around nervously. Perhaps...JUST PERHAPS....he wasn't coming? Unlikely, but she could wish coudln't she?

 

R'ave squints at oncoming lime taffetta, first thinking D'renn -- but finding the chest area delightfully devoid of hair. "As far up as absolutely possible," R'a answers offhandledly, a glance tilted after Quara, mouth kinked into a grin. He's not getting leers, per se, but quizzical looks and faint screams suffice. "I won't forgot, Pyrene."

 

Egan is frightened, quite, after ducking through various caves and handling a group of wild brats as they passed a volcano pool, and naturally, the poor nanny would be scared out of his wits. "Just be /good/," Egan urges the Keroonlets, pushing the group foreward. "Go dance or something," is spat, and Egan drifts off somewhere or another. Fieldtrips. Who thought up /that/?

 

Harpers? Harpers meant dancing, right? Not really something for Kinecha, so she just goes to hunt out some food. Must be some food here somewhere.

 

Noegip suddenly disappears ::between::!

 

Rei suddenly appears from ::between:: and hovers a moment, surveying the area carefully before finding a discreet perch.

 

Evanorah glances around in a moderately lost manner.  "Is there an area we're supposed to congregate in, Fenn?"

 

Quara catches sight of the green-and-gold knot of Keroon and flutters over to the bearer. "Hello there! Haven't we met before?" Not that he'd necessarily recognize her in her current getup. "You look familiar." Smile. Flutter.

 

Ilare is just.. Here.  Beaming.  Looking pretty.  And there's harpers? Yay! The dragon's'll have MUSIC to dance to! Flicking a flock of mane out of her eyes, the brown rider weaves and dips between people, beaming, minding NO ONE steps on her dress, avoiding V'tor, the usual Graduated Rider things..  Chanticoth is waved to, and the long spoken warning about draggies and wine has been forgotten:  besides, he wouldn't like the taste!  Fennara is spotted and a beeline made for her.  She remembers her!

 

"Where they in that basket you gave me?" wonders Lis innocently of Pyrene - notice, however, that she isn't carrying said basket. Blinking at the goldrider for a moment, she then wanders over to examine R'ave, determining just how far 'absolutely possible' is. "Wow," breathes she, after a long examination, still peering upside-down at the boots, "I want some of those."

 

Desyana wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Sora is lost. Pleasantly, as she sidewinds her way through the crowd. Yes-she-is, little Needs-A-Beeline, amidst waved greetings.

 

Stepping from the stairs in the weyr, Marianne steps smoothly into the sunlight, stepping upwards onto the meadows with one long stride. She squints once for just a minute in the light, but shakes her head out, clearing her face of the loose tendrils that hang down next to her face. She gathers her skirts around her, holding them up so she can negotiate her way across the meadows. Oh, yes, here is a Harper. Most definitely. She holds her head high, offering dazzling smiles to everyone she passes, her eyes shining brightly enough to be considered beacons. After all, she *does* know someone in this class. As she spots the Harpers, she offers one last sweeping wave to a random passerby and makes her way over to the ground. "All right, my friends, ready to show these weyrfolk what a group of *real* Harpers can do?" Her eyes are sparkling with green fire as she looks around the little group of her fellow Apprentices.

 

Sasha beams as she watches her own skirt swirl around her feet. Little things...."Hey guys...the harpers need to know where to set up...Any suggestions?"

 

Pyrene beelines to Sora, snagging the girl in a hug and a peck on the cheek. "I hear tell I missed your turnday," she explains fondly. "And my own congratulations to you and Catiminith of course. Welcome to the riding ranks and all that everybody else is going to tell you tonight."

 

 

R'ave tilts Lis and dryly thoughtful expression. He could be perverse -- he's liable to get there, but at the moment, he's happy and dosed up on healer meds. If this were Prom, he'd probably get kicked out. "I'd show you, but since this /is/ a public type thing," he answers, glances to the harpers impatient. He's gotta sweep Pyrene off her feet. Or try.

 

Between sharp, moonlight-silvered 'ridges, Spiraling down from the clouds, the dancing form of Backstreeth becomes visible, and perched on his neck.. none other than N'sync, of course. Who else. The Inferno-rider has replaced graduation leathers with something a bit more fitting the after-show party. And yes, that trio of girls has followed him.. and they're in place, already waving and waggling fingers at the brownrider as he slips from Backstreeth's neck. Seems the wine's already flowing.. "Hello, loves!" he calls, toward no one in particular.

 

Emeril suddenly disappears ::between::!

 

Delilah walks in with quick little steps.  Ohh it's a crowd...she weaves her way though it to the harper group, just in time to hear Marianne.  She gives a soft chuckle, "Oh of course." she replies quietly.

 

Sora bounces slightly, beaming at Pyrene and head-bobbing brightly. "Thankee! And, yeah." Fingers flick vaguely, pleasently. "I'm twenty-two, now. Been so busy, though, I almost forgot!" And her blue gets a slightly well-aimed beam. "Cati reminded me. How's Cadgwith been?"

 

Egan is stopped to /his/ beeline, of course, which up until now was the foodbar. Or a chair. Or anything that keeps nanny occupied in a foreign and big place like High Reaches. And so Quara is eyed. "I would say the same of you if I knew you," Egan remarks to the bluerider, "But I don't. So, no. I don't think I know you." He doesn't think you look familiar. He's from Keroon. Not High Reaches, see.

 

Sraine has somehow found her way back to Akilth's side and leans against him wearily, eyeing the people before her and just wondering why she was here in the first place. She would much rather prefer a certain Keroon friend to at least TALK to...but he's rather absent and Ine's rather...bored? Tugging on the other sleeve of her semi-tight fitting brown dress, she then wonders why she even wore the thing in the first place. Sigh. Spotting another dragon landing, she idly watches it until she realizes exactly WHO it is. UGH...so much for wishful thinking.

 

Lis finally rights herself, probably disappointing N'sync to no end - she's /still/ got better cleavage than Quara, you know - to give R'ave a lopsided smile. "Oh, you can show me later. My weyr's always open for a chat, or a drink... or whatever." Something suggests she'd like 'whatever' best. Eyes, trained to be attracted to anything wearing berry-red, spot Sora. Blueriding, red-wearing - two out of three is good enough, and so she descends on the poor ex-weyrling like an ominous new leaf.

 

Pyrene chuckles ruefully. "Better than I have," she admits candidly. The dragon herself croons over from her safe position to one side. She's enjoying this in fact. "Well, happy turnday belatedly," Pyrene assures the rider.

 

Jhiateshyrth wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Kwa slides from Jhiateshyrth's neck and lands gently on the ground.

 

Evanorah gives a little shrug and ditches her carrysack in a corner, swinging her gitar expertly into her hands.  "Oh, but of course Mari, but of course..."  She flashes a crooked little grin and goes about fine-tuning her gitar.

 

Quara catches a call and half-turns. "Oh, N'sync, darling! So glad you made it! D'you like my dress?" she asks, twirling so that she can better show off the dress. And then she pouts at Egan. "Really? But I used to be at Keroon. And I still stop by infrequently." She shrugs, then extends a hand. "At any rate, I'm Quara." Smile.

 

Sasha ducks away from the approaching N'sync....Scary guy! Slipping over to Pyrene and Sora she grins. "Well we finally got here then!" she chuckles as she twiddles a long ringlet. So uncharacteristically girly, and yet she is tentatively loving it!

 

Ilare waves across to her dragon, eyes smiling as brightly as the grin that her lips have twisted into.  Picking up a wineglass ith care, she makes her way towards Sraine again, almost.. quickly.  Heh, brown riders stick together, right? At least Recounth hasn't appeared yet, neh?  Kwa is spotted and waved to, before Ine is nudged - time for girl talk.  Plus, if Ila keeps Sraine from being spotted by V'tor OR N'sync..  "Love your dress, Ine.."  Beam.

 

Kinecha weaves her way through the crowd to a more quiet spot, where she can sit in the grass. Just sit here and watch the crowd and the riders, she'd know from the time they were candidates. Her eyes scan the crowd and she offers nod, here and there, but generally just sits there, by herself.

 

"We did!" Teeth flash again with another, typical Sora-smile, bouncing lightly again. "And thanks, Pyrene." A pause, and a blank, blink, smile draining into puzzlement. "Cati says that you'll be okay, even if you don't like him?" More question than comment, riderlet greets Lis with a beam. Yes. Berry-esque is she.

 

Egan cautiously takes a hand - he's been warned about 'Reachians - and, of course, shakes it. Or hopefully. He's been rather drunk on life lately - just plain unsober. Eyes, naturally, drift to certain parts of body and outift, before assistant nanny snaps out of such thoughts. "Egan," is introduction, with an added, "Assistant... er, child supervisor." Yeah. /That/. "N'sync?" Forbid he should be here. But it's always better than a J'stin Timberlaketh, ne? Of /course/.

 

While people stand around the meadows chatting, the gentle discordant sounds of a fiddle, gitars, pipes and percussion instruments can be heard as the musicians, stationed at one side of the alpine field, warm up and tune their instruments.

 

Above, Mzadith glides in from the southwest.

 

Above, Mzadith drops down through the heavy winds to land in Alpine Meadows.

 

Mzadith lands gently despite the buffeting winds above.

 

Sraine hadn't even seen Ilare's approach and jumps slightly at the nudging. Giving a light squeak, she then turns and--relieved--noticed it wasn't N'sync. Kwa is noticed too and given quite a cheerful wave too, although whether it was seen or not is still in question. "Thanks.." she murmers, flushign lightly at the compliment about her dress. "I was 'convinced' that it would look nicer than my leathers.." Tugging at the sleeve out of habit she sighs. "Although I'm not sure about it. I adore your dress though..it looks so good on you." She mutters happily.

 

R'ave tilts his head ambiguously after Lis, gravitating from blinding lime toward Pyrene, who is not so optically detrimental. Soquilith does not boogie, and thus merely hovers 'round the edges of the pleasanty peoplish business, trailing Quara for long moments. She looks human -- but her skin looks green. How terribly depressing. 

 

Whirling around in a swirl of skirts, Marianne's curled hair, so carefully arranged before she arrived, goes flying about her in waves, bouncing along and down her back. Sweeping her hand in a grand gesture, she points to a nearby smooth, level spot, near the edge of the gathering, but still visible from nearly everywhere, where the grass sways lightly in the wind. "That will do perfectly for our stage!" She proclaims and promptly waltzes over to that spot to root herself near the front. As her friends settle themselves in, she raises her voice to be heard over the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen! Newly graduated weyrlings! Riders! And anyone else whom I happened to miss," she turns her head about to take in the entire gathering, "The dancing will begin in just a moment. So, ladies, drag your partners to the floor so the fun can begin!" She gives them all a dazzling smile and sweeps a ground-low performance curtsey.

 

Pyrene sighs at Sora and mock-frowns. "I'll let him off this once," she says solemnly, ears prickign up at the faint notes. "Are they starting?" She can't tell the difference between tuning up and a song. She /can/ see R'ave though and she grins delightedly at him as he comes up.

 

Jhiateshyrth glides quietly in, near lime alabaster form circles once and then lands delicately in an unoccupied area. Kwa stays seated for a moment, grumbling quietly as she tilts her head and sniffs at her brand new leathers. "I smell like firestone... shard-" She cuts herself off and slides down the dragon's neck, using a proffered limb to land just as gracefully as her dragon did upon the ground. "Oooh! Party!" Where is Hyzen? And Sraine? And... and... everyone!

 

Mzadith makes quite a decorated landing, coming in from almost vertical and spiralling downward, wizardly wings folding and flaring as needbe in order to combat with the arctic winds that rage higher up in the sky aroud here. With nothing so much as a jolt, the blue lands himself upon the meadow's soft, forgiving ground, allowing Cayl's flaming skirts a chance to settle about her. Warble. Croon. The blue cranes his neck backwards in order to better see his decked-out rider.

 

Frist> Nylanth takes off from Nylanth's ledge.

 

Frist> Nylanth circles higher and higher still, up towards Star Stones and Spires.

 

Above, Nylanth soars with bridled energy in from the southwest.

 

"/Nice/ leathers," Lis informs Sora in a purr, moving close with a ruffle of taffetta. "Terribly /pretty/. Say..." Eyes sudden increase in diameter, by some trick of the light or her lashes, as she asks of the blueling, "Would you like to dance with me, Sora? Berry of my bubblie, cream of my puff?" How can you say no to /that/?

 

Rei hovers, looking about carefully, then suddenly disappears ::between::!

 

Chanticoth bugles cheerfully as the Harpers start playing, heading to a slightly clearer area with quick graceful strides. Dancing! YAY! Who wants to dance with him? (Dragons that is). Ok, follow Chanti now. He came up with this dance especially for graduation, y'see. Now... Everyone in a big circle... oh he's two impatient to wait. He'll just demonstrate until people join in. After three. Three... You put your left wing in. Your left wing out. In. Out. In. Out. And flap it all about. You do the Chanti-dance and then you turn around... (Oops! Mind the tail!!) And that's what it's all about.

 

Vespurath wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Tatia wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

R'ave can't rightly decide if he would be considered a lady or a partner, so as he deftly manuevers menacingly clunky boots toward Pyrene, he hasn't a chance to leer or grin or be coquettish. He's pondering if true gender wins out over attire-gender.

 

Sasha gazes across the meadow quietly watching the others. Wandering over to where Branwyth is curled she chuckles "Hey Branwy...gonna dance with Chanti?"

 

Ilare giggles, waving away the compliment, although she blushes slightly with delight.  "And yours looks stunning, Ine!  The colour really suits you..." her voice trails of, and laughter touches her lips inadvertantly, gaze flicking from fellow brown rider to dragon. Then back again. "Sorry 'bout that - Chan was complaining that he can't dance to that music." Wine glass is almost dropped then, as her dragon.. takes the initiative. Oh no.. *facepalm*  Well, never mind, he's having fun, and that's what matters. Besides, it's HIS graduation too, right?

 

Sora's 'lashes flutter for a moment, limpid pools of green lurking confused before the greenrider is offered a hesitant beam. "Sure?" Despite any odd bouts of poeticism, the bluelet accepts with barely a tremor, though the beam grows. "You really like the leathers, though?"

 

Vespurath has arrived! Finally. *cough* However, she's not alone. With her, there comes the ever-dutiful Shippith, supporting her tattered wing in order to keep it off the ground and relatively immobile. With Tatia, his arm linked in hers with a gentlemanly effort, there resides the bluerider, B'oat. Aaah. Vespurath, Tatia, Shippith, and B'oat. What else could this party possibly need? However, the festivities have already started and a warble is sent Chanticoth's direction.

 

Settled skillfully between Mzadith's ridges of wizardly raspberry, Cayl only pales slightly as she carefully unstraps and rubs her dragon's neck before sliding down.  She's getting rather use to those sharp turns and dives, though it still manages to effect her in some ways.  Brushing dress down ackwardly, she somehow feels uncomfortable in it.  Even /if/ it's what she had worn before impression:  It had been nearly two turns since then?  Eesh, time flies.  She glances around at the party, her eyes a few of the dragons wearily before quietly walking her way off to the side.  Wouldn't want to get caught up in all this, would she?  Nah, she'll be that nice lawn decoration over there.  Yep.

 

Mzadith hugs the ground and watches placidly as Cayl clambers down the straps-'ladder' and lands easily upon the ground.

 

Quara goes home.

 

<Local> Branwyth senses that Vespurath's tones are sugary and sweet and more than a little happy to be here. <<Dancing!>> Is the first word from Vespurath's mind and more than likely, that's what she plans to do, even if it takes her all evening with his stupid wing.  A thought is then sent /mostly/ at Chanticoth, but hardly shielded from the rest, <<I was scored.  Because the Thread didn't fight fair.  But I can dance -- in place.  We shall find a way.>>

 

Pyrene is going for true gender certainly, stretching out her hand to R'ave and inclining her head to him since she doesn't dare to risk a courtesy with her current waistline. "Why, R'ave... I thought you'd never ask," she croons.

 

Kinecha wasn't gonna dance, but then this was the 'lings' graduation party not hers. Recruit didn't 'graduate' after all, they were promoted and they weren't thrown a party for that sumple reason.

 

Cadgwith peers at Chanticoth and uncertainly raises one monstrous wing from her withdrawn position. She's got a feeling she's too big for this.

 

 

Above, Nylanth drops down through the heavy winds to land in Alpine Meadows.

 

Nylanth lands gently despite the buffeting winds above.

 

<Local> Branwyth senses that Chanticoth wiggles his mental image of wings as he dances. << I started when the harpers did. Sorry. Come on join in Vespurath! Good wing in, good wing out, in out in out, shake it all about... go with it... >> Groovy.

 

G'deon slides from Nylanth's neck and lands gently on the ground.

 

Lis attatches herself to Sora's arm as the bluerider accepts, lime green nice complimenting - or painfully clashing - with the red hue of leathers. "Honestly and truly. They're just so berry sweet," sweet-talks the greenrider as she leads the newly graduated rider towards the dancing... area. You know - where those people are doing that thing. Dancing.

 

Mzadith watches with intense concentration as his bedecked rider makes her way from his neck and down onto the groudn. Blue eye remains glued to her -- although he can't keep only /that/ in his mind. His other eye avidly watches the rather humorous dragondance that's going on just now. Croon is sent in the general direction of the party -- although whether it's for his rider or for the dragons no one really knows, now do they?

 

Possibly some dancing? Oh yes, in Tatia's mind, no party is complete without dancing. The greenrider turns her gaze to Vespurath, unlooping her arm from B'oat's. "Vesp.. will you be all right? If I go dance?" The unspoken question is there, too.. but at least this time the dancing is /outside/?

 

Sraine blushes and lowers her gaze a little. "Thanks." about the compliment about her dress. Letting her eyes rove over to Chan, she bursts out into giggles. That was the funniest thing she had ever seen. And then she laughs again, louder this time at an inane comment her own brown gives her. "Sorry about that...Akilth finds this terribly amusing." Here she raises her arm and waves enthusiastically towards Cayl, trying to get her to be a lawn decoration with her and Ilare..and then the wave is then motioned towards Kwa. She hadn't talked to her in LONG while.

 

Stepping back from her friends, Marianne offers them a mischevious grin. "Just have fun, my friends. Remember, we're the best, so how can we go wrong?" With that *terribly* modest statement, used more to settle any nerves that may be going around than naything else, Marianne turns away and takes a few steps in front. Closing her eyes, she is silent for just a moment, before she lifts one hand discreetly to signal the accompainists behind her. As they begin the moderately fast waltzing tune, Marianne opens her eyes, the hint of a smile playing about her face as the first notes of the song float over the meadows. "Listen to me, I have beautiful dreams, I can spin you... Dreams to linger within you... close your eyes and we'll ride... my carousel...." She lifts one hand, as if to beckon to the audience, her eyes practically daring them to come closer. "I'll sing you stories of lovers.. whose love used to fill me.. and the lovers who will be.. for you see love is one thing," she offers a wink to a random, nearby man.. "One thing.. I do well....."

 

R'ave grins lopsidedly -- a touch of the old Rau coloring wan cheeks as he links his hand with Pyrene's.

 

Encie wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Egan eyes. A wonder it does stay on, yes. But didn't he see Jenn and Lopezth wearing that? Shame, no one's wardrobe is safe anymore. "I'd better go now before 'lets get too lost," Egan says, drifting away from Quara. Rm. Various riders, newly graduated and not, are eyed, along with the regular peoples, of course. Can't forget them. Eyes search for any other interesting outfits. Mm.

 

Branwyth moves slowly towards where Chanti is dancing. <<Why not? Looks like fun>> she starts to move to the music, attempting in her own more graceful way to emulate Chanticoth's steps.

 

Right. That thing. Sora is willing to be flattered, following Lis puppy-esque. Because she's innocent, and cute, and not-corrupted and being prodded by an insistant mental voice. "I tried for that, with them." Hence her matching purple hair. "You do know that I can't dance that well, right, Lis?" Yeh-heh.

 

Chanticoth isn't gonna let the giggles, or Cadge's uncertainty with her big wings stop him from wiggling those wings, and swaying those lovely brown hips for good measure. Ok, now... right wing in, right wing out... come on everyone! You can only knock over the humans. And they'll be doing that after they've drunk their wine anyway.

 

At least. One can thank Faranth for those small favors, now can't they? Encouraging warble is sent Tatia's direction. B'oat shoots a grin after Tatia but moves off to do his own dancing. Shippith shifts, but doesn't move. Vespuarth's childish, but she isn't /that/ childish. Eyes are set upon the dragons who are already dancing and, despite the fact that her talons tap, her tail swishes, and her good wing twitches, she manages to hold back her impulse to dance -- at least for now.

 

R'ave grins lopsidedly -- a touch of the old Rau coloring wan cheeks as he links his hand with Pyrene's. Oh dear, a romantic song. What luck. Blushing a shade to parry his hair, he moves to a dragon-free zone with the goldrider in tow, eyeing Lis. "When did she become Oren?"

 

And riders aren't the only one dancing.  Sigh..  But doesn't Chan look amazing? What a dragon! Such a sense of time and.. uh.. beat?  Well, he's certainly got the dancing.. thing down pat. "You should get Akilth to join in too, my dear Ine..."  Cayl is also waved at, as is the newly arrived G'deon.  Amber eyes scan the area.. and jaw drops. "/Da/??"  What on Pern is her father, B'oat, and Shippith doing here??

 

Ilare jawdrops..

 

<Local> Branwyth senses that Vespurath's tone swishes with bright berries, creamy cream-puffs, and the musical notes of the harpers, <<Of course!  But um,>> There comes a halt, even as she attempts to resist that dancing urge, <<Will someone come dance with me so that Shippith can go have fun?>> After all, we wouldn't want to restrict the poor little blue.

 

Akilth sits back where he originally settled himself, fully well and able to merely watch instead of participate. He wasn't much of a dancer anyways. Stick in the mud or not, he wasn't going to go out there and start fluttering about like a wherry. He had SOME pride. So there he sits, silent and watching and...amused.

 

Pyrene chuckles at R'ave. "When Aly became proddy again," she declares, eyes drifting to G'deon and tagging him for her next dance. But for now, she holds R'ave as close as her bump will allow, and with his dress, that's probably more than close enough for Loren. "Mmmmm."

 

Evanorah cradles her gitar in loving hands, her foot subconsciously tapping out time as Mari gives her signal.  Fingers curled carefully around the neck, poised to strike a chord, she contributes to the lilting, whirling effect of the music with sprightly strumming.

 

Sasha chuckles at Branwyth's attempts at dancing, but she herself hangs back....she'd love to dance but she just hasn't the first idea about how to go about it. Looking around she sees Cayl and G'deon and waves. Feet tapping and a broad smile unable to to be erased from her face, she wonders what she can do to loosen up..this is all too strange....Is that wine over there? She goes in search.

 

Above, Imbriath arrives above the meadow.

 

Above, Imbriath drops down through the heavy winds to land in Alpine Meadows.

 

Imbriath lands gently despite the buffeting winds above.

 

"Excuse me... pardon me..." Chimes the little gothic one as she slips through the crowd in an attempt to get to Sraine and Ilare. Weave, dive, jump. Yeah! Kwa can do it! And so the greenlet finally arrives at her friend's side and flashes just a sweet happy smile. "This is great. Wish ours was half as good!" Pause, Sniff. "Sorry 'bout the smell and being late Ilare. Got dragged into threadfall before I could make it up here."

 

Hyzen, glancing towards the ground far below, slipes down the smooth hide of Imbriath and towards the ground with help of lifted paw.

 

<Local> Branwyth senses that Chanticoth chuckles in whirling violet, spiking in time to an unheard rhythm, even as he continues moving. << Come over here, Vespurath dear. I'll dance with you... >> Aww... isn't he nice? That or he just would like to dance with a green.

 

Lis gives Sora her most beguiling smile, tucking an arm around the bluerider's waist and grabbing the hand on the opposite side, taking her for a few slow twirls around in a simple box-step. Right-back-left-forward. "I'll teach you, really. It's such a simple act, a blend of body with the strain of music, but only mastered by a few." Perhaps she has been having an affair with with F'ish.

 

Cayl is more then willing to join the ordiment parade over there, and quickly meets up with Sraine and Ilare, though the later seems distracted.  She smiles at Sraine and gives a nod.  "Nice dress."  It's not exactly the most enthusiastic reply, but then again it's a true compliment from the tongue-tyed Cayl.   She gives various waves around the groups and stares at the excitement.  "Oh...  This is almost /too/ much!"  She says, grinning like an idiot.

 

Pia hugs Sasha! Sasha puts her arms around you and cuddles against your chest, as Branwyth's warm, misty voice echoes softly in both your minds <<Oh I like Hugs!>>

 

Nylanth bunches powerful muscles, wings pumping with strength, before leaping into the air.

 

Above, Nylanth sweeps in from the sloping meadows below.

 

And with Vespurath's permission, Tatia's on the prowl. For a dancing partner, that is. Can't be too specific round 'Reaches.. Eyes wander anxious, and already her feet are twitching.. but she slides toward fellow recently ex-weyrlings first. "Hey! /Hey/!" Yup, still beaming. She waves swiftly, grinning at Sraine and Ilare - and eventually in Cayl's direction. Ah, what the heck. Let's just beam in general. "Guys! Can you believe it?"

 

Desyana eyes the crowd with a bit of trepidation. Still feeling 'newish' to the weyr and the crowd of people. But her eye lands on someone else who seems a bit off set by all the folks as well. Making her way to Egan she smiles and nods. "Hello, I'm Syan. I know we haven't met, but you look as lost as I feel."

 

 

Above, Nylanth :battles through the whipping winds, intent on reaching the weyr.

 

<Local> Branwyth senses that Cadgwith rushes with disappointment. << I am too big to dance. >> she observes regretfully. << There is no room for me to walk. >>

 

G'deon heads back down the trail towards the weyr.

 

Okiiri wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Sraine gives a bright smile as Cayl and Kwa both make their way over. "Hey Kwa.... Cayl. And thanks." she murmers, the blush once again returning to her cheeks at the compliment on her dress. "This is so exciting..we're full riders now." And here she sounds awed. It really happened. At Tatia's exclamation she gives a beaming smile. Wow...she pretty much drunk on the excitement, not wine. Of course...none of the latter was going into her system tonight if she could help it.

 

Now let's just see if it's going to be possible. After all, Chanti's /quite/ a bit bigger than the diminuitive Vespurath. Shippith and Vesp together, almost as one shuffle over to where the brown is heading the dancing parade. It's a little difficult to transfer the injured wing without tattering it further and thus, Shippith mearely moves up on the near side of Chanticoth so that the green's wing is bumped up onto the higher brown's back. That done, he moves away again, shuffling out of the way of the young'uns. Probably to sun. Croon is also send Cadgewith's direction -- he's at least, going to give her sympathy. B'oat, meanwhile, shoots a cocky little smile at Ilare, "Ilare! Congrats, by the by. Tatia asked me to help with Vespurath -- or rather, asked Shippith to..."

 

Kinecha leans back on her elbows, watching as more and more people arrive. Seems that this was turning out to be quite a party.

 

Cadgwith stretches and folds her wings by turns, trying to follow the dragons' dance with little success. She does create quite a nice breeze though, sending grasses and skirts scurrying. All adds to the atmosphere.

 

In the first verse, Marianne's voice had been just warming up, the song slower than usual, but still moderate. For this second verse, the tempo definitely speeds up a bit, beckoning the bystanders to come and dance, and twirl, and... "Come let's believe love can be just as sweet as it seems! Let's live on dreams! In my dreams.. such beautiful lovers have found me... storybook lovers surround me!" She reaches out her hands around her, touching the air softly, as if to hold these lovers to her. "Nothing is real, but I'm flying, sighing... where, where, where is my storybook ending? Why does my golden pretending... leave me with nothing to hold... but my dreams?" Her voice lifts with longing, her eyes rising to the sky, her arms wrapping around herself as if to protect herself against the world where her dreams do not exist. That voice, so powerful and rich, rises louder, higher, reaching, reaching so high.....

 

R'ave is tall enough with his prepostorous boots to be able to keep an eyes out for Loren, and his attention focused on Pyrene. At least it's relatively slow, so he can simply shift-sway his way through this; hands held very high on her waist -- he can't help being a loser; it's intrinsic.

 

<Local> Branwyth senses that Alymath speaks at long last, a thought bubbling up from a boiling cesspool of far too many perfumey scents. << I want my Lis. I need to be oiled. >> Nevermind it was taken care of earlier this morning.

 

"Really?" Sora is curious, but pays attention and focuses her wandering thoughts. Yes. Concentration. "I've never tried it..." That, muttered lightly as she follows the steps. Blink. "Oh! Listen to that Harper. Isn't she good?"

 

<Local> Branwyth senses that Chanticoth thinks << Awww... Cadgwith... this is a party! You can dance! We'll make room. Won't we! >> No longer the weyrling wingleader's dragon, but he can still give orders to the ex-weyrlings like one. << Move back! Give her some room! Squash the riders in the corner if you have to! Erm... not too squashed though. >>

 

Egan grunts. "Exaactly," is stretched and flat voweled comment from Egan. "I'm Egan. We haven't met, not that I recall. Syan? That's nice. I'm a child supervisor. Big name. Big business." Keroon Brats, Inc. "I'm not lost. I just... don't know where to go." Literally, at that. "Whats with you, here, eh?"

 

"Not really," although Ilare's words are more about her /father/ being here than graduating.  Besides, this they knew was coming eventually anyway, right? "Kwa! You made it!" Beam.  Green rider is greeted with a bright smile, and gold eyes dance happily.  Then she gapes.  "Uh.. Hi, Da.. I did wonder.."  Chuckle.  And her father and his dragon being the ancient.. umm.. semi-ancient beings that they are?  Wait.. blue.. blue... where's Recounth? **fear**

 

<Local> Branwyth senses that Vespurath's tones once again pop with color and happiness, <<Thankee, Chanti!>> Look!  It rhymes!  Look how good she is at that.  Moving on.  Alymath's complaining, and so is Cadgewith, <<Dance with your head, Cadge,>> Green offers, her mindtone slightly disapproving.  She shouldn't give up so fast, after all!  Moving on.  Alymath, <<Alymath!>> The dragon calls, her voice shrill and excited, <<Come dance!>>

 

Cayl kills him.  Last threadfall.  Everyone knows that.  *DUNKS!*

 

<Local> Branwyth senses that she thinks <<  :issues swirling green vines that entwine her words almost as well as the dancers move in and out of each other <<But it's fun! Just come and sway, Cadgewith!>> >>

 

Diiiieee!

 

<Local> Branwyth senses that Soquilith offers a comment laced in R'ave-pink. << It's all in the hips, Cadgewith. >>

 

Pyrene leans happily into R'ave's effeminately-clad-yet-still-manly chest. "Last time we got this close, I had to Search you, remember?" she asks him, eyes sparkling with amusement, just before she rather recklessly attempts a pirouette. Oooh. dizzy.

 

Pia wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Desyana says, "I live here. At least now I do. From Southern Weyr originally." But she doesn't go into detrail and her tone says.. 'don't ask'. "What brings you from Keroon to 'Reaches? A particular child you're wrangling?" She smiles at him.. "It can't be /that/ bad."

 

 

Kwa gives a sudden blink and turns back to nod her head in the direction of her dragon. "Really? Well then I guess I'll have to go break it up since that twit of a girl I recruited can't seem to do her job correctly." Then Kwa turns back and gives quite a frown at Ilare and Sraine. "Aera and Eranel are fighting again and my 'nanny' can't seem to get them to stop. I have to go make sure they break it up..."

 

Lis clucks her tongue at Sora, even as she continues to whirl the girl around. "You're not /feeling/ the music enough. Let it hold you and move you. 'Round and 'round..." This litany repeats as the greenrider's eyes half lid, dancing a little closer to the once-blueling when the verse's words reach her ears.

 

Aiianna wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Cadgwith is encouraged by the young dragons and steps carefully forward. So sorry, sir... was that your head? By some miracle she manages not to squash anybody as she weaves tail and head in eerie imitation of dancing. Graceful, she's not; but there's something fascinating about the sheer bulk of her sinuous movements.

 

It's a beautiful day, the sun is shining, the grass is green. In saunters Pia, with a small basket looped over one arm and a straw hat perched at a jaunty angle on her rather pointed head. A pleasant expression rounds off her thin features until her gaze focuses on the knot of noise-makers. "Shards," mutters the girl, tone adding naughty nuances to the simple word.

 

Mzadith, meanwhile, isn't about to be left out either! Besideswhich, his shadow needs a bit of exercise, and what better than to dance, hmmm? Blue sidles up between Cadgewith and another brown, squeezing his smaller form into the little ring of dancing dragons. Charred eges blur as he too begins to dance, tongue lolling faintly out of his mouth as he concentrates on watching both his shadow, and attempting to make his hips move nicely -- as Soquillith suggested.

 

Egan raises an eyebrow. "Yes, I am from Keroon. No. I'm not chasing brats. Tough I have to sometimes." Wistful sigh. All the other nannies get to stay and sip klah, but Egan gets the hard work. Of course. "Someone said we should have fieldtrips or something. So that's why I do, now." Yes, yes. Of course. Hard work, right. Remember?

 

Catiminith prances slightly, light, inching his big ol' blue form closer to the dancing dragons. Prance-prance.

 

Evanorah smiles at Mari's stage personna as her well-calloused fingers pick and strum at a fevered pace.  Much faster than she's used to for her third-string instrument...  Well, a challenge is a challenge.  Well up to it, the little harper picks up on one of the more complex variations she has in stock, building the backbone of the instrumental accompaniment more firmly.

 

Alymath shivers like a feline rubbed the wrong way, curling up into a sulky ball far from the edges of dancing dragons. She will not /dance/.

 

Serina wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

In tune with Chanticoth's direction, the green moves back -- after all, it's not as if she could stay where she is with that wing. It'd floop to the ground. And thus, she moves back, her hindquarters still shaking, much like those of a feline. Croons and warbles and such emit from the perky little Vespurath's muzzle, in time with the music, even. Look at her! She's dancing! And she even has a partner. *swoon*

 

Sraine frowns ever so slightly at Kwa mentioning she had to go. She hadn't seen her friend in ages. "That's a shame Kwa....send them my love for me, will you?" She hadn't seen them since they were babes either. Phew..it had been WAY too long.

 

R'ave steps after Pyrene, arms spread in such away to allow the goldrider room to finish her twirl -- but balance in case she shouldn't make it. Pregnant women give him the responsibility-jeebies, even when he's dancing, and even when he's clothed in slinky dresses. "How could I -not- remember?" he murmurs after the spun weyrwoman, damson eyes flickering bemusedly.

 

"And round and round and round?" Sora hushes herself after a moment, neck craning for a moment to send Cati a beam before she concentrates on her own dancing efforts. Yes. Feel the music. Cati certainly is, with a muttered, "Quiet, Cat." Demm singing blues.

 

In tune with Chanticoth's direction, the green moves back -- after all, it's not as if she could stay where she is with that wing. It'd floop to the ground. And thus, she moves back, her hindquarters still shaking, much like those of a feline. Croons and warbles and such emit from the perky little Vespurath's muzzle, in time with the music, even. Look at her! She's dancing! And she even has a partner. *swoon*. B'oat, however, has now made it over to his daughter, rocking-movements and all. "Didja? Well I'm 'ere now and there's no gettin' rid o' me." With that, and a speculitive look at his daughter's little gathering, he winks and begins to move off -- probably in search of some good wine. Good wine at 'reaches? Unheard of.

 

But for where? Where can she reach? Marianne's hands rise as if to match her voice, but cannot, she cannot pin down that elusive... something she is seeking. Emotion ripples through her voice, power lurks behind her words, longing, laughter, and rueful acceptance somehow blend into her voice, as her hands come crashing down, whipping out to her sides. "Oh, is it only in dreams that we find our ideal love? Are there lovers with real love?" Picking another man at random, who has the fortune.. or misfortune, depending on how you see it to walk in front of this dramatic performer, she walks up to him, floating over the ground and dances around him nimbly, with her eyes inviting, her hands beckoning, "If you know how to feel love.... show me how!" As the man appears to *definitely* want to take her up on that idea, Marianne's rich, musical laughter rings out over the meadow, translating that into her song, "Ah, but my lord, if you can't be a sweet as you seem... I'd rather dream!" Laughing, the energetic harper, twirls and dances her way back to the stage, leaving the man staring after her with his mouth wide open, as her twinkling laughter echoes faintly in the air.

 

Bay appears out of nowhere, dropping you a note. You sense from him that it is from Ilare, who is looking for you in Upper Alpine Meadows (#4450).

 

Hyzen takes off her knot.

 

Kwa grumps quietly. "Yeah... nearly four turns old the pair of them are and they still fight like there's no tomorrow. Oh well, I think Aera is teasing him about Gurl--being his new green firelizard--again." Oh well... she'll go deal now. Slink , slide, slink, slide. Kwa finally makes it out of the mess and slips back up her dragon's neck and up, up, and away!

 

Sora takes off her knot.

 

Yeah! That's it! Move those hips, sway those tails. Chanticoth seems to have half forgotten his plannned dance for graduation and is just dancing now. Hips swish, wings wiggle, and a brief wink is sent to green dance partner. Everybody dance now!

 

Encie goes home.

 

R'ave thunk-pops his tail toward Pia, ending the crack a fraction away from the girl's vulnerable hindquarters.

 

Tatia's feet manage a short rhythm of their own, even as she grins at Sraine. "What? Aren't you dancing today?" she questions, head tilting with the teashing. Oh yes, she remembers the last time they danced... and sympathy though she has, she can't resist.

 

Soquilith thunk-pops his tail toward Pia, ending the crack a fraction away from the girl's vulnerable hindquarters.

 

Pyrene laughs at him, although she needs the arms to steady her before she finds her footing and what passes for her rhythm again. "Good, I'm glad," she chuckles. "But I won't try and kiss you this time, for Loren's sake." Loren's a friend too, see. A closer friend one could say. Unlike Pia, but then, Pyrene hasn't noticed Pia so that's irrelevant.

 

Kwa clambers up Jhiateshyrth's neck and settles in between two neckridges.

 

Jhiateshyrth bunches powerful muscles, wings pumping with strength, before leaping into the air.

 

Above, Jhiateshyrth sweeps in from the sloping meadows below.

 

Jacobi wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Above, Jhiateshyrth languidly outstretches webbed gossamer burgundy kissed minty angelic wings before she disappears into the blackness that is ::between::! Be warned, the Istan draconic schizophrenic is loose on the world...

 

Adanac blinks in from ::between::!

 

Aiianna goes home.

 

Cattana wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Serafine wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Cattana unwinds Polaris' tail and the bronze flys into the air.

 

Polaris flys on the flare of a star ::Between::!

 

Oadatrouff wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Jig. Jigjig. That's Chanticoth. Therefore, it's also Vespurath. Each facet of those whirling optics is whirling and clambering and having an absolute ball. It's a party in her eyes! That and on her feet. Feet move -- the left dominating -- in a sort of flashing jig that allows her to move mostly just her feet and tail and hindquarters, without jarring her wing too much. Green has to keep time with the larger brown in order to not wrench said wing -- but other than that, it's all good. Plus, the pair of them look rather rediculous where they dance together. All the better!

 

Oadatrouff calls to Adanac, who flies over and lands on his shoulder, curling her tail around his neck posessively.

 

Oadatrouff goes home.

 

Evanorah chuckles faintly--a boon of playing strings instead of wind for once, and draws her carefully twined chords to a climax.  Dancing her fingers across the strings as swiftly as any of the dancers whirl, she alters to a slightly higher pitch to match Mari's soaring tone.

 

Ilare has found herself.. a perch. A seat. Somewhere to watch everything without being on her feet.  Isn't this fun? People watching.. Or should it be dragon dance-watching?  Ilare can't quite guess. So, nodding as she sips some wine, she beams and listens to the chatter. Heee. "Well, this party's getting interesting..."   

 

Sraine is just standing there, watching the things going on and rather not being in any particular conversation at this time. Cold-coloured eyes follow Kwa to where she leaves and quite rider--yes RIDER mwaha!!-- gives a light sigh. "This is a bit...fast paced for my taste." She murmers to no one in particular, but most likely Ilare since she was closest. Yep..indeed, Ine was still used to quieter gatherings....and this was making her remember that last gather. Shudder.

 

Pia lets a ear-piercing squeal emerge from those pouting lips as she leaps away from the snapping tail -- it's worse than a towel! "R'ave!" She snaps, marching towards the rider of the offender.

 

As the dancers intertwine with each other and the figures become more and more complicated,  the music mirrors their movements, variations of the tune becoming more complex. The beating of the drums holds the addictive rhythm together and as the dancers build in confidence, the musicians sway their bodies to the pounding beat.

 

Serafine has disconnected.

 

Serafine falls asleep.

 

R'ave echoes her laughter silently, grin growing unevenly as a glance shifts in the direction that heralds Loren. "I suppose that's a wise idea," he answers, holding her waist tentatively. "I -- Pia?" He didn't do anything, really.

 

Okiiri is here, now. Fear. Or joy. Depends on if you dance or not. "Tada!" is announcement of arrival, and 'Iiri moves in a dunkenly type sway across the field. Erm. "Dance," is all that is registered in Okiiri's mind and comes out of his mouth, silver tieback flung here and there. Mzadith is eyed, and 'Iiri faintly remembers the other days back.

 

Cadgwith can't jig, but she can... lift and lower her feet by turns? Heck, it's close enough. Her eyes whirl at the harpers in appreciation of the song, that fearsome sea-strewn snout stretching towards them in a frightening acknowledgment.

 

Kinecha gets up from her seat in the grass and goes in search of food, and something to drink. What she finds is wine, which she's not crazy about but pours herself a glass anyways and then finds somewhere to sit again.

 

Sasha  wanders over to the wine table and pours herself a large glass. Her body swinging slowly to the music,she sips thoughtfully and wonders who she can grab to dance...

 

"Aww - but Catiminth's got it!" crows Lis with sudden elation, despite her lifemate's general disintrest in boogie-ing down. Grump. "Dancing dragons... Oh, /Sora/." A giggle rings out as the dance step generally dissolves into moving rhythmically about the meadows whilst spinning.

 

Emerald wings spread as a green appears out of the depths of ::between::, bugling a greeting to all below her as she slowly sinks through the uplifting air.  Imbriath spots her fellows off a distance and warbles softly before landing carefully-- no squishing peeps!  Lowering down, she allows her be-dressed rider to dismount before she meanders off to join the other dragons.  Hyzen dusts herself off, watching Imbri before eyeing the crowd.  Shards...

 

Cattana walks in, her eyes searching for the fellow harpers that are here, just hid behind.... /dancing/ dragons? She shrugs and supposes the large creatures are celebrating too? "Hello Evanorah, Fennara-" She names each of the Harpers off that she knows and walks up to them, a smile wreathing 'cross cheeks. "So, the dragons and riders a graduating from weyrlinghood?" She asks in curiousity as she looks about. Hmm...

 

Soquilith looks decidedly innocent, tail curling around his stolid forelegs as he watches Cadgewith dance.

 

"You may not be man enough to control your dragon, but by Faranth, you keep him away from me!" Pia snarls, glaring back at the guilty bronze. If her solitude was broken, everyone gets to suffer.

 

Cayl goes home.

 

Ilare chuckles slightly, nodding in sympathy at Sraine, before her gaze falls upon... Ugh.. That Vinter woman.  And Ilare can't help but snigger into her glass at the tail slap to the rear.  Has Ilare ever mentioned JUST how fond of Soquilith she is?  No?  Well, she is. Very. Mwahaha..

Sasha hugs Cayl! Cayl acks as she's squeezed and mushed and turned to putty in your arms!

 

Pyrene clings to R'ave and glares at Pia, trying to rotate the bronzerider away from her. Trust Her Ladyship to come and ruin her dance. "Can't this wait," she asks hopefully.

 

Akilth watches the rest silently, a little bored and a little amused. No matter what, he wasn't getting up there. No way. Spotting another dragon arrive, he vaguely notes it's Imbriath and then goes back to dancing-dragon watching. This was quite amusing.

 

Mzadith, meanwhile, is going to have to follow in Soquillith's footsteps -- or whatever. Just now, he's paying more attention to his shadow than he is really to anything else. Look at it dance! He's just so good at this. However, perhaps he should watch where he's going, for, in the close quarters, he bumps into Cadgewith, pretty much bouncing off -- he /is/ quite a bit smaller,there -- and not even really caring. Instead, he continues dancing wherever the winds will take him -- watching his shadow. Eventually, it takes him over toward the sulking Alymath, who's tail he soon trips over, causing him to stumble and come to a tangled rest next to the sulking green, panting with exertion.

 

Desyana falls asleep.

 

Sraine doesn't have a drink in her hands, and doesn't plan on having one there by the way. Sooo, her hands need something to do. One tugging on one of her sleeves whilst the other just...hangs there, she chews on her lip and wonders how long she'll have to be here anyways? She did promise she'd come, and where a dress at that. But...how long?

 

R'ave compliantly circles away from Pia, in the general direction Pyrene's bidding him to move. "Don't be such a grump, Pia, this is a party," he murmurs, mentally singing his lifemate's praises as he steps in time with the music -- and Pyrene.

 

Branwyth hops and skips happily amongst the other dragons, trying hard not to trip over. Oops! nearly trod on Soquillith's tail there...avoid avoid...uh oh...bump! Straight into Mzadith!

 

Catiminith continues his prancing, whilst Sora giggles in greenrider-echo and flutters in a dancing sort of way. But at least she's getting better. A sudden blue-comment provokes another giggle, and green-eyed looks slides Cati-ways. "Cati!"

 

The housekeeper arrives to cart Serafine off to bed.

 

Before she turns around, Marianne offers an impish grin of thanks to her performers, winking in appreciation of their bearing with her. It lasts but a moment, as Marianne's green skirts go flying through the air, her constant motion sending her twirling back in the direction of the dancers to run her eyes over the gathering, green, bright, and vibrant. Catching sight of whom she seeks, Cayl, she offers a grand salute, sweeping her a low curtsey to the ground, and her arm sweeping across her body. Rising, her face seems to be glowing as brightly as the sun up above, as she continues her song, "Come... and wake me," the song slows down just a little as she grinds out the tune with her foot, tapping once, twice, three times to give the harpers the beat of the song, "Coem be the love I can hold now! Storybook love leaves me cold now! Show me the way to stop dreaming!" The way she beckons her hand is a challenge and invitiation to each and every person in that meadow, the way her eyes hold an invitation of their own, and her voice is sensually calling out, husky and full, "There is only one perfect storybook ending.. that is the end of pretending! That is the moment I say......" She holds this note, long, low and rich, taking in all the dancers with her spread arms, "Love me nooooooooooowwwww!" The last word of the song rises, rises and climaxes in a burst of passion, feeling, and love, and from that mountainous climax, cuts off abruptly, signaling the end of the song.

 

Soquilith carefully flick-whips his tail from danger's paws, a blast of warm air exhaled benevolently Pia-ward. He is /such/ a good dragon.

 

Cadgwith raises her tail, anxiously crooning towards Mzadith until she's reassured that he's taken no hurt, at which point the song ends and so does her 'dance'. She again stretches her head towards the harpers. Now what?

 

Sasha hics slightly and skipping a little as she walks, she appears next to Sraine. "Hey Lets go and dance!!" She entreats her friend. "You know you want to really!"

 

Ilare's gaze has already drifted from the outraged Pia, and now settles upon the harpers, eyes widdening at the.. uhh.. singing  Um. Yes.  Quite.  Standing now, she turns to Ine, meanwhile keeping a look out for.. Them.  Or rather, /him/.  N'sync she can handle.  But a certain blue rider..

 

Chanticoth comes screeching to a halt. The music STOPPED? That means they can't dance. Where's the next song? Eyes go to the Harpers. Come on! More musics!

 

You notice Egan looking at you.

 

G'deon wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Egan (#20690)

 

Dark, gold-etched curls wrap themselves like a crown 'pon Egan's head. Thick locks fall 'cross tall forehead to reach raven 'brows, the once natural color of Egan's hair. Rounded orbs of emerald melt into light green near midnight black center, creating contrast enough for the pair of optical units. Slight violet-black rings hold under Egan's eyes, most likely from staying up hours each night. Nose is a bit crooked but otherwise fine, and teeth are fascinatingly straight, and at least /near/ white. Skin is somewhat pale'd and would make one think Egan rarely visited the outside. Egan's overall body structure is thin and weak, but stubborness and determination make up for any physical disadvantages.

 

Exotic and wild certainly do /not/ describe Egan's typical wear, but plain and simple isn't what Egan would prefer his style being called, either. Egan obviously defines himself as very materialistic by the judgment of his wear - quite expensive materials, some rarely found on Pern at all. Draped upon Egan's upper body is a long-sleeved, silky, burgundy, tunic, a little large for him, but tightened with a belt around his waist. The belt, itself, is of a darkbrown wher-hide leather with a silver buckle. Then there are Egan's pale khaki pants, allowing easy mobility, and finally light brown wherry-hide sandals, complete with gold-rust buckles.  Egan's Sack hangs loosely over Egan's shoulder.

 

Twined peridot and gold are wound together in a single loop, tightened around Egan's shoulder, with a somewhat small tail of the same colors and a small tassle, donating Egan as a Keroon Hold Assistant Nanny.

 

Egan is 18 Turns, 8 months, and 16 days old.

 

Pyrene gleams contentedly, triumphant in her look at Pia. See? R'ave would rather dance with her. The song finished she gives the bronzerider one last hug and then releases him. "Thanks very much, rider. Now, don't let me monopolise you when so many girls would like to dance with you!"

 

Serina walks into the area looking around. "Hello" she says as she sees people and dragons.

 

The housekeeper arrives to cart Desyana off to bed.

 

Sraine steps back slightly as Sasha appears out of nowhere in an...interesting state. "Uh...that's okay Sasha. I think I'll sit this one out... Really." Personally, she thinks the other has had a LITTLE too much to drink, no? Blushing and taking another step back, she glances over to Ilare. Eeek. At least it wasn't N'sync...*SHUDDER*.

 

"Ooof." Lis stops rather suddendly, at the edge of dancing throng, as the pauses to catch her breath. Gasping unselfconciouslly like a fish, she informs Sora in between breaths, "I think... we should get something to eat. Or drink." Drink is good. Drunk is good.

 

Mzadith hasn't taken a hurt, no, but he is now smooshed beneath another dragon's weight. A bubbling warble is the blue's laugh as his wings work a little bit -- maybe to get Branwyth /off/ him? Or perhaps just because she tickles. Or something. Still, the blue continues to squirm a bit, bumping quite often into the sulking Alymath, but doing mostly nothing much lest. Cadgewith's croon is lost in the numble of blue and green -- Mza /does/ have other things on his mind.

 

And as suddenly as the adrenaline rush began, Tat's looking a little tired. A little pale, even. Her head tilts for a moment as she confers with her lifemate, and the greenrider disappears, twining back down to the groundweyrs.. a temporary home, for a while.

 

R'ave lifts his hands from Pyrene's baby-cumbered waist, a stretch of conduct (he's not always broody and mean -- that's Pia) exacted as he returns her embrace. "Ah, no one monopolizes better," he answers, grinning broadly. "Thanks, Pyrene." Now, to hide from the petulance of Pia...

 

Sasha frowns a little..she's not /that/ inebriated...yet!

 

Egan gives up on the woman. Obviously she's flung herself after some other man or something like that. Woman have such short-term memories. Or attention span. Works either way, it does. "/Women/," is remark made by assistant nanny, and Egan drifts off to... well, no where at the moment. Somewhere that has refreshments and all that. Don't let him find the wine, though.

 

Lowering herself in a brief curtsey, Marianne sweeps her skirts all to one side, lowering her head as well, in acknowledgement, and as is proeper at the end of a song. Since everyone seems to be more caught up in partners and food, she rises rather sooner than is usual, hopping up with her usual energy to stride back to the performers. Lifting her hand to her forehead, she offers ironic salute. "Congratulations, everyone, on a job well done!" She grins and winks slightly at them. "I think we did rather well, all in all...."

 

"Lis!" Pyrene calls across the clearing crossly. "Don't you dare! Oh... G'deon, come and help me with Lis! And then you can give me the next dance." She's not going to proddysit to the point of missing out.

 

Catiminith continues prancing, inching closer to Alymath with a draconic beam. Beam. Dance. Beam. Subtle hint, ne?

 

Pia's glare flicks freely between Pyrene, R'ave, and Soquilith. "Leave me alone," she snarls irrationally and stalks over towards the drink table. She does pause, halfway, and glance back at Pyrene. "Sugar, thought I'd warn you. B'art was asking where you were, and muttering something about challenging the weyr for your love..."

 

Jacobi scowls briefly as he quickly slipes down Imbriath's hide before she goes thundering away.  Silly dragon... sigh.  Seperating from Hyzen, he gazes coldly over the crowd-- seeking the one person he'd ride one of those... those dragons for.  Finally spotting her with a group of the others, he weaves carefully through the crowd.  Frown's there, along with the dark eyes that cant every which way to make sure he's not ran over.  And finally... he makes it!  "Sraine."

 

"Sure?" Sora pauses to applaude, lips pursing in a sharp, short whistle of appreciation. "Good job, Harper!" Names are trivial at the moment. "Food's good. Lots of food, with a little to drink to wash it down." She does believe the rumors, after all. No LisDrunk.

 

Cattana runs off of the dance floor /very/ quickly before bumping into Fennara. "Oops," She gives a sigh though, she isnt sure she wanted to become a human pancake on the bottom of dragon feet. She skidders slightly behind the rest of the Harpers, her eyes watching the magnifisant dragons as they try to dance. She supposes dragons wernt made for dancing but they improvise anyways. Pia and R'ave are given a glance, they arnt going to ruin it all with their childish complaints? are they? Hmm... She sets up agains a tree stump, a glass of juice in her hand as she sips gratefully of the liquid.

 

Fennara nods to the other harpers and brings her pipes to her lips A catchy refrain is played as the other members of the band weave around the melodies. The rhythm of the drum and percussion instrument is underlined by the sound of rhythmicaly stamping feet

 

"Gladly, sweetie," R'ave calls after Pia, adjusting his thigh-boots again, whilst an approving grin is given to the harpers. It's his graduation -- if there are childish complaints to be made, he will make them. So nyet.

 

G'deon finally makes his way up into the meadows, heading for Pyrene as she shouts over to him.  He lifts a hand in greeting to a few others along the way.  "Help with Lis?" he inquires curiously once he's in range.

 

Alymath lets out an ominous rumble in Catiminth's general direction, lifting her head to squint menacingly at the blue. Jaw drops, and muzzle curls, revealing fangs. Rwar.

 

Lis beams happily to herself as the waddles, taffeta-swathed, towards the food tables - though she stops by the pre-poured glasses of wine's first, snagging one in her hand. "So," sip, "what should we start with?" Sip. Sip. Gulp - for she sees G'deon and Pyrene bearing down on her.

 

Sraine gasps, and would have dropped her glass if she was holding one. Blinking, she tries to take in the fact that Jacobi was actually -here-. "Jake? What are you doing here?" WEll..it WAS a long way y'know. Glancing over to the semi-inebriated Sasha, she keeps an eye out for N'sync as she talks to her good friend. "I didn't think -you'd- be here.." a little surprised this quiet one is. I mean..he doesn't like dragons all that much--such was obvious to Ine.

 

Desyana wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Catiminith is big, and blue, and happily brave with Sora-bolstering. Alymath gets her own rumble, low as the blue prances slightly. Dance. Dance. Subtly, as multi-hued wings rise slightly and faaaaaan the green. Faaaaan.

 

Vespurath all but wrenches her wing out of the socket as she continues dancing and her brown little holster there isn't. That's simply not going to work. And so, the little green comes to a rest, panting as she does so. Emerald hide is shimmering -- but that could just be from persperation. No wait -- dragon's don't sweat. Uh oh. *gulp* Maybe it's not a glow, persay, perhaps, just a sheen. There we go. A sheen. Right. Let's just pretend. Green's head is turned upward, and ever-so-slyly, Vesp slides her neck across the little dip in Chanticoth's in order to 'observe' something on the other side. However, what she sees on the other side is an Alymath, a Catiminith, a Mzadith, and a Branwyth. Both females are given glares, but the green doesn't move her head. It's so comforting...

 

Evanorah shakes her hand to ready it for playing again and settles her gitar back on her knee.  The beat is taken up by the tapping of her soft-booted toe and she strikes a few opening chords.  A strong, rhythmic tune is adopted, twining itself neatly around the softer pipes and harsher drums in such a way that demands feet to move and bodies to sway.

 

Soquilith tilts his head toward Alymath and Catiminith. In with the good air, out with the bad air. Keep fanning.

 

Pyrene reaches Lis and flaps at her glass, trying to get it off the greenrider. "Gid, take her glass? She's nuts enough right now without being drunk," she mutters. Friends don't let friends be proddy drunk. "C'mon Lis," she says aloud. "You can't stop and drink... you're wasting valuable dancing time, listen?"

 

"Bread," Sora informs Lis confidently, grabbing a roll and regarding it's neat little hand-size with a certain amount of glee. "And meatrolls. 'cuz they've got bread and meat and both help...fill you up." And soak up wine. Pyrene is afforded a grateful beam. GoodPyrene.

 

Desyana watches the dancing dragons in.. fascination?

 

Ruining other people's fun is Pia's sole purpose in life... that, and marrying someone powerful. After pouring herself a thin flute of bubbly wine, she saunters back over to R'ave's now abandoned side. "Have you seen Cao lately?" She drawls idly.

 

Chanticoth flicks a gaze in the direction of Vespurath, rumbling in amusement. He's not unhappy about the situation. Nope. Of course, it does limit his dancing abilities. He switches to the hip swish-swishing and the tail wiggling, otherwise he's gonna knock Vesp off his neck, and then he wouldn't... have Vesp leaning on his neck. Heh. He doesn't even have to try with some of these greens.

 

Imbriath pauses to let Jacobit dismount-- forgot he was up there? Evil dragon. Making sure he was well away, she then continues on to the other dragons, head swinging this and that way. Dancing... without her?! The horror! But she'll watch for now-- to get the swing of things. Hyzen, on the other hand, is watching the humans dance carefully. She wasn't one for much of the actions... and she didn't really know how to dance. Pity.

 

Loren dances and prances, not particularly well and not particularly caring wether or not she's doing a good job. Partnerless-R'ave is swiftly shuffled towards as soon as she notes his.. well, lack of a partner, and, straightening the circlet in her hair and dusting off her skirts, she sidles close, beaming and attempting to look as coquettish as she possibly can. "My turn, now?" And then a blink towards Pia. Pia equals.. person. Look! Lo equal'd something. She's so smart. Anyway. Yeah. Bakerlet blinks, vaguely confused. Does this mean no dance?

 

Lis squeals and dives away from Pyrene, attempting to head under the table despite her big, green-taffetta butt. "You're just jealous because you can't have any!" calls the rider from under the table, voice muffled and hips still trying to fit under it. If G'deon catches her, there'll be no hope.

 

Delilah joins in the music now, adding her soft soprano.  It dips to add a gentle undertone to the pipes, running beneath their sound like a current.  Her voice swims under the pipes music before dipping carefully to twine around the notes of the gitar and the steady beat of the drums.  It adds a gentler, delicate edge to the music while winding around people ankles, begging them to dance.

 

Tatia goes home.

 

G'deon just follows Pyrene for now, nodding to Lis and Sora as they draw near. "Aye, breads do wonders when you're drinking," he offers, trying to be helpful.  He glances around and snags his own glass of wine, then glances at Pyrene.  "Lis can't drink?  Is she pregnant again?"

 

Ilare blinks as Ine is distracted and Sasha.. seems to have had enough to make her mildly enthusisatic.  Minding her skirt, she grins and slips away, trying to mingle.. and lets out an eep as a most familiar and UNwanted personage spots her. Meep. "Ilare, Darling, don't you look..." what ever V'tor has to say isn't heard as brownling dives away, weaving through the crowds again. Nononono... Oo.. Three giggly girlies catch 'Lare's attention, and brown rider comes to a halt, and give fellow brown rider a grin. "N'sync! Don't you look charming today?"  She MUST be desperate, to be milling about with the guy the green riders.. heck, most of her wing run screaming from.  If they're female.

 

As the other harpers pick up another tune, Marianne steps to the side and out of the way, so the dancers have a clear view of the performers there, offering an encouraging grin as she leaves, and murmuring under her breath, "Remember, just think, we've made dragons dance. How many harpers can say that?" She waltzes off the stage with her usual energy and into the crowd, with her eyes sparkling and shining, making her way along the edges of the crowd, moving her feet jauntily to the music as she walks along, in search of familiar faces, her green eyes scanning... scanning....

 

R'ave bristles slightly, Pia afforded with a wounded glower even as arms carefully move to pull Loren into the dance. Sway-bobble-jig; he dances like Cadgewith. "No, I haven't seen Cao," he growls quietly over his exposed shoulder, mouth contorting. "And I don't suppose -you- would know a thing about that."

 

Alymath raises herself up off the ground with a deliberate slowness, lifting her head up to its utmost height. Not so good at looming as Cadgwith, she does present a formidable force which saunters itself right up to Vespurath with a deadly-ominous rumble. Hey you. With the hide.

 

"Faranth, I hope not!" Pyrene retorts, tugging grimly at green taffetta. "She's just proddy again. She'd be better off dancing than drinking. Who knows what she'll do with alcohol on top of her current state of mind!"

 

Jacobi frowns as he's pushed from behind, turning and giving a sharp word to the person before turning back.  "Hyzen picked me up and brought me..."  Eyes slowly take in Ine's form and dress that draps said object before bowing formally to her and holding out a hand.  "Might as well enjoy the dancing while it's here?"  So he's trying to be in a good mood-- surrounded by the pes-- dragon's of Pern.

 

Cadgwith looms from a distance. Over the whole crowd of dancers. Beat that.

 

Serina falls asleep.

 

A smirk twists Pia's lips most unpleasantly, more than pleased at having scored a point on that girly man. With a careless shrug, she saunters over to the next knot of confrontation, albeit not one she started. "What's the matter with Lis?" She queries to Pyrene.

 

Evanorah alters her playing ever-so-slightly to accomodate for the difference in singers.  Softening a touch, she picks out a tune that is energetic and soothing simultaneously.  Find a partner, everyone, this is the song you were waiting for!  Not too fast and not too slow.  Let's hear it for the middle of the road!

 

Evanorah is fading fast, her eyelids drooping by increments until she finally...drifts...off... Night-night!

 

Sraine ahs silently and bobs her head, sending her bangs falling into her face--before she swipes them back behind her ears that is. That made sense, Hyzen bringing him and the like. That girl -would-, she thought only half-sourly, half-charmed. Idly tuggling the neckline of her dress higher, she is startled by the offer. "Dancing?" she repeats rather stupidly before getting the idea. Well, why not? Jake HAD to be a better dancer than N'sync..and if she was dancing with Jacobi then the latter wouldn't be ABLE to. "Sure." she answers, her cheery smile returning to her lips as she takes the proffered hand. "Lead the way."

 

Vespurath has hide! And look! It's all shiny. Check it out. A low grown, even a meow, almost, but a menacing one. Yeah. So don't even think about it. Childish it is -- but Vesp's like that. You've gotta expect it. Eyes whirl a deeper green at this point -- and not one of contentment. But jealousy. What does Alymath think she's /doing/? Vesp's own dancing has been forgotten as she continues with her Chantirest. It's kinda comforting, actually. Rumblecroon. This last is directed more at her brown wingrest than at the green -- 'Purath wouldn't croon at Alymath. Nowaynosiree. However, the music's starting up again and even that is enough to distract her from her Aly-bashing and thus, she slides off the brown's neck and begins to swish her own hips again, tail flipping this way and that and her head swinging to and 'fro.

 

A small object flies out from under the tablecloth - it's glass, it's Lis', and it's empty. Rather than shout anything triumphant, the greenrider uses the distraction to wriggle under the table into safety. One hand sneaks up, feeling around on the tablecloth for the wine bottle with splayed fingers. Almost...

 

Loren is danced with, and beams cheerfully even as she attempts to follow R'ave's lead. Another blink is directed Pia-wards, angled features settling into something akin to confusion as she peers back up at R'ave. "..that was funny." In the non-joke sort of way -- not that Lo's really all that good at telling the difference. She did, at least, for once. Bare shoulders shrug slightly as hips swish from side to side, 'ren beaming with the swinging-skirt effect it evokes before attempting to change the subject. "..anyway. Was dancing with Pyrene fun?"

 

Pyrene shrugs at  Pia. "Only the usual," she notes acerbically, deftly slipping the wine out of Lis' reach and lightly slapping the fingers that her hunting for it. She's looked after brats too long to be fooled by distractions. "Lis.... people are starting to stare. Why don't you come and dance?"

 

The housekeeper arrives to cart Serina off to bed.

 

Oh, so it's come to this, has it? Alymath rises to the challenge, long limbs coming in handy for elegant twirls like ballerina pirrouettes. Wings unfold skyward to flash silver highlights, and she starts to dip them in counter-rhythm to the beat her feet are following. A dance-off of draconic proportions.

 

People are starting to fear, actually. Sora regards the spectacle with a high, raised 'brow, staring. "Good grief. Pyrene, do you do that when Cadge's proddy?" Sora, of course, having stayed away from Pyrene at that certain time.

 

Delilah sings softly, using her voice to just decorate the music, flowing over and around the notes, like chiffon on a dress, or beads on a shawl.  She keeps it moving, up, down, up down, flowing over the scale.  Flying up, up to the high notes where it rests a moment, clear and crystal, only to dive down, snaking through the crowd.

 

The housekeeper arrives to cart Evanorah off to bed.

 

Far be it from Chanticoth to get in the way of a dance off, especially when initiated by Alymath. Backing up a little to give the green some space, he observes with obvious interests, tail curling and swishing sinuously as he dances to the music.

 

 

Marianne 's eyes continue to lilt over the gathering, moving over the dancers like waves in the water, flowing over them and back again, alert, sparkling, and generally full of life. Walking smoothly over the ground, Marianne watches the dancing with a mischevoius grin on her face. She wonders what everyone would do if she ran out into the middle of the crowd and started dancing a waltz... with herself. Ooooh, how tempting... she actually lifts her foot to take a step in that direction, but the dragons' antics distract her, as out of the corner of her eye, she sees one with is tail flipping everywhere. She shakes her head lightly. What magnificent creatues.... she bites her lip on a rueful grin, squashing a twinge of regret that stirs in the back of her mind. Shaking *those* thoughts off.. for now.. she concentrates her gaze on the harpers and dancers, moving through the crowd smoothly and offering a dazzling smile to the man whom she had sung to who waves to her with a gallant bow from his place talking to a few women, who frown in her direction and drag his attention back to them. Marianne covers a laugh with her hand. Oh, dear. Whoops.

 

Jacobi takes the proffered hand, a grin tugging slightly at his drawn lips as he leads the way into the swirling masses of bodies.  Finding a relatively clear spot, he turns and faces Sraine, again eyeing that dress he's hoping no one else is.  Drawing her close to him, one hand slips behind her back and the other twines with the already captured hand.  Mmm... now he has a /reason/ to hold her this close!  A chuckle is given before the older male swings into the motions of the dance, taking Sraine with him.

 

"Yes," R'ave answers scouring the broodiness from his voice and angling their general dancing direction in a way that's remotely opposite of Pia. "It was fun." Even with the boots, and a dress that if caught by a particular gust of wind could prove to be direly embarressing. "Nice music," he mutters, tone still rife with edginess. "Alymath is doing soft shoe and Lis is under a table. Is anyone else not surprised?"

 

"No, when Pyrene's proddy, she sleeps with B'art." Pia calls sweetly. "I think that's ten times worse than just hiding under a table, looking for some wine." Amused at the prospect of causing further trouble, she slides a wine bottle of the table, one hand 'round it's neck, and passes it down to Lis.

 

Reiko wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Kinecha is still just sitting there, off to the side with a glass of wine in her hand. Which she's hardly touched. So many people here all of a sudden. Almost too many, and she can really only identify about half the faces. Shrugging she takes another sip of the wine, and smiles to passersby. This /was/ a party after all.

 

Vespurath could win any danceoff with one wing tied behind her back. Well, she's going to have to, isn't she? Alymath's just /asking/ for it. Unfortunately, Chanticoth /isn't/ helping and the green is forced to follow along with him, backing up so that she has a clearer view of Alymath. Green gets a glare from the shining ex-weyrling and something surprisingly crafty enters upon the hunting green's features. Feral -- that's what she looks like, feral. Hips begin swinging, slowly because of the damage to her wing, but with increasing speed, her tail taking up the movement even as her neck begins to work, weaving emerald head in intricate patterns that often take themselves around and close to Chanti.

 

"They can stare all they want. Ovines. I don't live by /your/ Rules, Pyrene. I will /not/ dance," vows Lis passionately from under the table, only a bit of taffetta poking out from the sides proving that she's actually still under there. That, and the fact that slowly - but surely - the tablecloth is starting to move backwards. Or is it?

 

Pyrene is surprisingly harmless when Cadgwith is proddy. She stands back for now and eyes the lime taffetta ball that is Lis. That's followed up with a glare to Pia. "Don't you /dare/," she hisses and with a sudden toss of her head, she abandons Lis to the vintner's care and strides off in search of a dancing partner. Dragon, human, fire lizard, who cares... she'll take all offers.

 

Soquilith ignores the jiggy dragons and paces around the crowds, perhaps trailing Pia -- she can't hurt /him/ after all.

 

Catiminith scoots up to Pyrene. He'll dance with her?

 

Check that. Pyrene will take all offers that aren't blue.

 

Of course, the amazing moving tablecloth stops as soon as Lis realizes she's had relief from Pia. An uncorking wine bottle is heard, as are muffled drinking sounds and soft poetry: an ode to imbibing.

 

Sraine is vaguely reminded of her dance with N'sync at the gather and tenses noticably before relaxing once more. This was -Jacobi- afterall...not the other brownrider. Soft-booted feet then start to move with the rhythm of the dance, only not as agilely as she would have liked. She didn't know the steps to this one as well; however, she was trying her best and the quiet rider only glanced down every now and then to check her feet positioning. "I hope I'm not messing you up." she murmers embarrassed, trying to keep up with a difficult step.

 

Sasha skips and hops over to Pyrene "Hey! will you dance with me? Nobody will dance with me. Going to have to dance on my own. Maybe I should give up on wearing dresses..." Sasha sways slightly.

 

V'tor, not to be ignored by the brownling called Ilare, snakes through the crowd idly counting bodies with rather... showing dresses upon them.  Like that Sraine gal... not much showing, but it was a rather low cut dress, don't you think?  Oooh, and there's Lis!  A soft whistle escapes the bluerider before he finds... what he was looking for.  Ilare!  And cuddling up with N'sync?  The agony.  Brushing around a girl, he comes up to the two, grin plastered across his face.  "Oh no, allow me this dance, Ilare..."  N'sync can just go... and amuse the other millions of girls.  /He/ gets Ilare.

 

Egan eyes the green under white. Juice is sipped quite slowly, now. "Don't tell me they've spiked the redfruit juice here, too," Egan mutters, eyes alert to make sure no brats have or are attempting to do that. Maybe that green thing - but kidlets aren't that... green. Unless they're sick. And snuck in the tavern to drink wine. Which Egan has nothing to do with - cough, cough. ...Eyes drift across field for a suitable dance partner. Anything to get assistant Keroon nanny back to soberness.

 

Alymath ups the ante by taking her show to the air, using the open space she was given to hop airborne, spinning dizzily with a flash of metallic'd wings before alighting gracefully to the ground with barely a thud. Again and again she repeats this, neck, back and tail arched in graceful positions each time.

 

"That's good," is the half-distracted response, Loren attempting to focus on R'ave and not causing them both to fall on their rears at the same time. "And I don't think there's very much one can be surprised by when they live at High Reaches." Except someone acting normal, but that'd probably signal the end of the world and no one'd be alive long enough to be surprised, anyway. What happy thinking. "..hmm. Music's nice, yup. It's pretty. S'nice to dance to." Which is what Lo does. Carefully.

 

Soquilith relieves himelf from Pia hunting to jolt a glare skyward. Rising? No? Sigh..

 

Pyrene backsteps away from Catiminith and almost bumps into Sasha. Putting out a hand to steady the other greenrider, she chuckles. "Why not?" she asks, gaily swinging the girl out and into the melee of human dancers--let's give those draconic ones a /wide/ berth.

 

Catiminith, having been rejected by Pyrene, instead beelines for Cadgwith. In a bumbling, oops-did-I-step-on-you sort of way. Wings spread, all traced over with raaaainbow. Beam. Dance?

 

Kinecha finishes the wine in her glass and rises to get some more. Maybe she really /is/ developing a taste for the liquid, or maybe she'd just thirsty. Either way, she's drinking, which is somewhat out of character for her.

 

Ilare is after a dance, if only to escape V'tor.  She'll do ANYTHING to escape V'tor, it seems.  Even dance with backstreeth's rider, who even now is eyeing her up and down in such a way that were Ilare paying attention to /him/ would surely end up with the boyband brown slapped silly.  As is.. "Nice, Ilare, girl.  Heh, mind letting me show of the ex-'ling leader, m'dear?"  V'tor is eyed, and snorted at, and the taller browner neatly steps between Ilare and the blue rider. "Sorry, mate, but the first dance is mine. " Smirk. Ilare sighs, shaking her head slightly, before practically pouncing N'sync's arm.  "Certainly, mate."  Beam.  Here's the SAFE one.  Anyone who says otherwise hasn't had to put up with V'tor.

 

Jacobi spins Sraine, careful not the send her too far into the milling crowd of others.  Drawing her back, he finally comments upon the tenseness he'd felt.  "What's the matter?"  Softly said, though loud enough to be heard by Ine, he draws them slowly from the middle of the dancers and towards the fringes.  "You are good at this... you learn unlike some others."  A dark scowl rises as a dragon lumbers their way.  A few quick steps and their out of the beasts path.

 

Cadgwith is wary of stepping on dancing partners, but she solemnly stretches her wing in return to Catiminith, rattling their spars proudly. Come with me, dance, my dear...

 

Mooommmmmmy! Look! She's not pleaying /faaaaair/...A sort of whimperwhine /does/ emit from the Littlest Wittew Gween. A pleading glance is sent Chanticoth's direction -- as if he could do something about it. Right sure. It's her own fault she got scored. Instead of whining more, a look of determination hardens the dragon's already sharply triangular face into a shape that simply isn't becomming. We can just pretend. Glare is sent Alymath wards and Vespurath merely continues the dance on the ground, kickin' it up a notch so that her good wing is tucked back onto her back and her tail dances intricate patterns to mirror those of her head even as feet continue to jig.

 

Reiko wanders into the crowd, eyeing the dancing dragons with vaguely amused disbelief, scanning the human faces for anyone she might recognize... finally spotting a familiar face near the wine. "Hi, Kinecha."

 

 

The housekeeper arrives to cart Marianne off to bed.

 

The delicate sound of the pipes drifts up to trill delicatly at the high end of the scale.  The soprano which is Delilah compliments it carefully, singing on the lower end of the soprano range, whispering through the grasses.  At someones signal the tempo picks up, the threading sound of the pipes begins an impish tone, bouncing along, while the vocals swirl around like a firelizard in flight

 

Desyana heads back down the trail towards the weyr.

 

Sasha giggles a little and throws her head back. "At last! Hey you have to be careful she burbles in her best rather too happy healer voice. "that poor Pyrene babe is going to get dizzy if we spin round too much!" but the music is good and its lovely to dance with her old friend. "We're both dragon riders now! About time too!"

 

R'ave whirls Loren around surreptitiously, eyeing Alymath and Soquilith warily -- his eyes sink toward his former weyrling-mates, expression lacking anger, now. "You dance really well, Loren," he purrs quietly, pivoting around her with hindering boots.

 

Ooh... this is more fun than dancing, in a way. Chanticoth settles back on his haunches for a moment, tail still flicking in time to the music, to watch the competition between Aly and Vesp. This must be interesting for him if he's reduced his dancing to tail-twitching. Anyone got any popcorn?

 

Catiminith rumbles lightly, feet up-stepping in a neat little prance. One-two-three-one-two-three. And neck extends slightly, bluelet inching closer. Yes. Dance.

 

Kinecha turns around on her heals, spotting Reiko standing there, "Oh, hiya Reiko. The weyrslings are graduating today," she says and salutes the woman with her glass. Only her second glass, but she was already feeling the effects of it, not being used to wine.

 

Pia glances backwards, certain that /something/ is following her. But what?

 

A Pia-stalker, a'course.

 

Sraine follows through with the spin, having learned at the last gather how to spin and unspin easily and not fall on her rear. At his question, she hesitates a moment and then shrugs. "A memory of a past dance...is all." And here her eyes wander and find N'sync already dancing and occupied. PHEW. She would hate to see what would have happened had he tried to pull his stunts around Jake. Yikes. At the comment about her dancing she chuckles. "I've had a little practice..it's not hard once you know the basic steps." Pausing a moment, she then laughs. "You're a remarkable dancer yourself! When'd you learn to dance with all that running you do?"

 

Soquilith isn't following Pia. He is hunting Pia -- not for dietary gain, no -- she's too wiry -- but just because he's very busy ignoring his girly lifemate.

 

Serafa wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Pyrene chuckles. "That babe deserves to get dizzy after what it's put me through," she declares. "And you deserve a dance!" Granted, whatever her wishes, she can only dance with so much vigour. Still, if she moves slowly, she can pick out the men around here who might be available for the next dance. There's Gid who didn't take her up on her earlier offer, Egan who doesn't look like he has other feminine commitments...

 

Reiko lifts an eyebrow. So /this/ is graduation. "I see," she says wryly, helping herself to a glass of wine. "Having a good time?" Her eyes are really still on the crowd, watching events playing out around them. Fun. Indeed.

 

Loren giggles as she's spun, draping her arms carefully over R'ave's shoulders and snuggling as close as she dares. "Thanks, R'ave," is the eventual response, a faint blush creeping over bakerlet's chubby cheeks. "You dance well, too."

 

Pia twists, glaring indescriminately over one shoulder. "Leave me alone!" She snaps, though lacking a target her words likewise lack a certain degree of emphasis.

 

Soquilith is not directly spoken to, so he does not stop inching closer to the vintner. Personal space?

 

 

Kinecha shrugs, not really, but she didn't want to spoil the mood by saying so. "Sure, although there're a lot of people here I don't know." Her eyes scan the crowd again and she finishes on Reiko giving her a smile. "So, how're you today?"

 

R'ave is not dancing, really, but instead circling. He's got to keep an eye on dragons, Pia, and any other dangers (such as Oren or Kariel) that tend to pop up at bad times. "Not in these boots, I can't," he answers quietly. He can do a fair amount of bump-grinding, but that's hardly appropriate. Even with Lis present.

 

The strong rhythm of the drums comes through, filtering to lie just under the piping.  The quick steady beat gives perfect guidelines for dancing, as the impish, quick and merry piping adds music and variation.  Dance, bounce, just do something to this sound.

 

Marianne wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

 

Squeak! Help! SOmeone! ANYONE! Eeee! V'tor's snagged away her possible shield and partner!  Didn't Chan promise to thump him...?  Oh, wait, that was if she was anywhere near him.. *sweatdrop*  Yanking back her arm, eyes wide, Ilare manages to stop her face twisting into an angry mask, instead emitting a soft yelp of surprise as she backs into.. "Ila! There you are!" Beam.  Without another word, the surprised brownrider is dragged away by another of their graduating clutchmates - K'sair! How's that for a last minute save?

 

Serafa heads back down the trail towards the weyr.

 

 Pyrene chuckles. "That babe deserves to get dizzy after what it's put me through," she declares. "And you deserve a dance!" Granted, whatever her wishes, she can only dance with so much vigour. Still, if she moves slowly, she can pick out the men around here who might be available for the next dance. There's Gid who didn't take her up on her earlier offer, Egan who doesn't look like he has other feminine commitments...

 

"I think you do," Loren states, unperturbed with any personal opinions he holds. He's holding her, and that, for the moment, is the only thing she's really concerned with. "Even if you don't dance well -- which you do --" And now she's going to be annoyingly vehement. "-- I'm very proud of you. Yup."

---

 

V'tor manages to keep a large smile on his face for the male brownrider's words before reaching out... and grabbing hold of the first arm that comes in contact with him.  A yank is given, not enough to hurt or send the unlucky person to the ground.  And guess who it is?  Sasha! Poor girl.  Still grinning that sickly sweet grin, he shoves the poor greenrider to N'sync.  "Here's Sasha... she'd /love/ to dance with you!  And Ilare is now out of a partner..."  Out goes that snaking, gripping hand to try and snatch the female 'rider.

 

Piping rises to the highest state, with a delicate but authoritive trill.  The vocals fade away behind and the trills fade away.  With one last beat of the drum the song ends.

 

"Well enough." Emerald eyes continue to scan the crowd a moment longer before Reiko returns her eyes to Kinecha. An eyebrow arches as she looks at the glass in the guard's hand. "Well enough for wine, now? Just how serious was that injury?"

 

R'ave grins lopsidedly, orchid eyes flickering as she's lowered a quick, chagrined kiss -- how romantic, from a boy made up like Rupaul. "Thanks, Loren.."

 

Kinecha shakes her hand at Reiko, grinning. "I didn't hurt my head," she says, brushing the hand over her skull. "Just got a cut here." And she indicates her midsection, and takes another sip of the wine, still wincing a bit at the taste.

 

Pyrene makes a moue as she loses Sasha, instead reeling over towards Egan hopefully. "Dancing?" she calls to him, eyes widening appealingly. If he's lucky, she won't step on his toes either. Much.

 

Sasha lurches out of Pyrenes arms and into the waiting arms of N'sync. Gasping suddenly she, looks a little blearily at him...."You aren't Pyrene....."

 

Loren swoons, appropriately Loren-esque -- even if he is in a dress, there's that whole 'lovestruck' thing to take into consideration. "S'not a problem. I really am, though, y'know. You're gonna be a good wingrider." A beam, and then a blink as the song ends. "..ooh." It stopped. How depressing. "..um. You want something to drink, or something, while th' music's stopped?"

 

The housekeeper arrives to cart Pia off to bed.

 

The housekeeper arrives to cart Sraine off to bed.

 

Egan peers into his juice. "Faranth, I don't /backwash/, do I..-- Oh! Err," Egan fumbles to set juice on table, accidentally knocking the drink off in the process. Crash. Spill. Oops. He did it again - being just as clumsy as brats lately. And /no/, he hasn't /touched/ the ale. "Egan," is.. Egan's... reponse to Pyrene. Whether she asked who he was or not. So actual question registers, and nanny shakes head. "I'm not dancing." He's not moving, he's standing. To dance you must move. See?

 

R'ave simply blushes away her compliments, a hand lowered to tug unmodestly at his boots. "I dunno, Loren, the last time I got a look at the wine table, Lis was making some sort of den beneath it." And a proddy, drunk Lis is one bear he wouldn't want to awake from hibernation. Or inebriation.

 

Jacobi, with the kindly help of a delicate forelimb, manages to pull themself up Imbriath's straps and betwixt ridges of star-kissed emerald.

 

Imbriath bunches powerful muscles, wings pumping with strength, before leaping into the air.

 

Above, Imbriath sweeps in from the sloping meadows below.

 

Pyrene looks at Egan consideringly, nanny to ex-nanny. "Well the music's stopped so obviously... will you take the next dance with me?" she asks, the tone of voice and expression of face all conspiring to imply that she'll take it as a personal insult if he won't.

 

Quietly observing for some time now.. well, semi-quietly, anyway, Marianne has been moving through the crowd unobtrusively, talking to this person or that, smiling here, waving there, and just in general doing as she has been taught. Being good. Blending with the crowd, conversing. Isn't she good...? Enough of *that*. As the song finishes, Marianne claps for her friends, calling out, "Well done, Del!" Over the murmur of the crowd. Whirling a hand above her head, she jumps up and down, trying to make herself seen... and not succeeding overly well, seeing as she's not the... tallest person in the world, to put it politely. Searching the crowd, she looks for someone to speak to. Picking a group of people out at random, she walks up to them with no hesitation whatsoever, ducking out of the way just in time as a glass almost splatters juice all over her dress. "Well, other than that incident," she murmurs mildly, offering a dazzling smile, "I hope you are all having a good time at the dance?"

 

Above, Imbriath warbles softly as she prepares for the inevitable leap into the rigid coldness and nothingness, slipping easily into the domain of ::between::!

 

Above, Imbriath arrives above the meadow.

 

Above, Imbriath drops down through the heavy winds to land in Alpine Meadows.

 

Imbriath lands gently despite the buffeting winds above.

 

Loren pauses again, a wary expression directed towards then Den of Lis. "I guess we should leave her there, then. There's probably some reason why she's under the wine tale." Hopefully. "..um.. wll." Indigo optics blink, and the bakerlet backs away just a bit so she can get a good look around. "..s'there something else you want, maybe? Or I could run down to the caverns real quick and see if they have anything down there. So we don't bother Lis, or anything."

 

The housekeeper arrives to cart Okiiri off to bed.

 

Skiyra wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Reiko nods, still looking a bit doubtful at Kinecha's assurance, then shrugs. Not being a healer, and never having been seriously injured, who's she to argue the point? Another sip of wine, and she returns to watching the dancers.

 

Skiyra wanders in looking around. Oooh! Dancing?  She looks around to get her bearings again, wonderingly.

 

Personal insult to a Weyrwoman would be a crime of all the crimes in the list of worldy Pern crimes... or something. So Egan makes sure to agree, at that. Who knows what a gold could do to Egan - smush him? Eat him? It's happened, they say. "I guess," is nanny's reponse, eyeing the Harpers. Why him? He's no good dancer. "If you insist." But she didn't?

 

Skiyra looks around for someone to talk to, annoy, befriend.

 

Ilare sighs, relieved as the dancing comes to an end. Yay! Over!  K'sair is such a love.. "Thanks, 'Sair.."  Older brother type that he is, K'sair winks, pushing Ilare towards the tables. "Mind he doesn't catch you alone again.." And off he goes, amused and head shaking.

 

"You like wine?" Kinecha asks of Reiko, turning to the wine table to see if the ale has come out. Which it has, and the Guard disposes of the wine glass, to exchange it for a mug of ale. Sipping it as she comes back to Reiko, she also watches the dancers, and the strangers. "So've you talked with Tyara yet?"

 

R'ave rolls his eyes and toys with the baker's curls, a few dazed glances slanted toward all the people he doesn't know. "Nah, it's no big deal, Lo'," he insists, squinting. "There are a /lot/ of people here."

 

V'tor finally scowls as Ilare is swept away from him by K'sair... fardling brownriders!  And now he has no partner?  Well, he can fix that.  Sasha is taken-- snatched yet again before Backstreeth's rider could reply to her.  N'sync can go find someone else, thank you.  Drawing her dreadfully close to him, V'tor simpers at her before leading her away from the glowering pretty boy.  So hah.  He'll catch Ilare eventually-- K'sair can't be there /all/ the time.  For now, he's got Sasha to keep him company.

 

Cadgwith is likely to not do anything to Egan, but he doesn't have to know that. Pyrene is happy at least and she smiles at the harpers, brightly, encouragingly. Get with the music again, she found a partner! "Egan did you say your name was?" she chatters at the nanny. "Mine's Pyrene--rider of Cadgwith over there," that big gold hulk quivering in time to the music over there.

 

Skiyra looks around, and decides to just watch for awhile, pulling up an empty seat to watch the dancing.  'I wish I could dance' She says to noone in particular.

 

Reiko shrugs lightly. "Well enough," is her answer to Kinecha's question about wine. Seems to be her answer about everything. Not impressed, not complaining. But she does notice that the guard wastes no time exchanging her wineglass for an ale mug, and for some reason this seems to amuse her. "I keep missing Tyara," she admits. "Mabye it's some sort of omen? I've certainly heard nothing to recommend the position."

 

Loren sways a bit, music or no. "Are you sure? I mean, 'cause, if you want me to get something, I'll get it, and stuff." A slight headbob, and then the bakerlet blinks again, peering at random-folk idly. "..yup. You all must've been a popular 'ling-class."

 

From the weyr enters a tall man, with dark hair and sparkling dark eyes, clad in black and blue, the entire effect projecting elegance and casual ease. A harper. No surprise there, really. His confident stride carries him across the meadow, bowing gallantly to passerby in gestures of smooth courtesy. However, he does not stop. This man has a goal. And when he wants to reach it, he generally does. Spotting his quarry clad in green, conversing with a group of people, his course changes. He walks up behind the green-clad harper and taps her on the shoulder lightly, bowing to her conversation partners. "Pardon the intrustion, dear," he says to Marianne, who looks at him with her hands on her hips, and one eyebrow cocked in question. "But I believe that our time to perform has come," He holds out his arm in a gesture of mock gallantry.

 

R'ave shakes his head, wondering at the crowds. "I /am/ sure... and I didn't think so -- we're the class that broke Ista," he answers, an arm curling 'round her swaying shoulders distractedly. Hey -- a tall man. All tall men deserve thoughtful blinks, and one follows the mysteriously dark-clad stranger. Anyway.

 

Rainea wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Kinecha chuckles, and nods. "Yeah, those brats sure can be annoying," she says, being in a somewhat better mood now. Whether it's the alcohol or the company will be left unsaid, though.

 

Egan is chattered upon, then. "Oh. You're a dragonrider." Gold, at that. Imagine if Egan stepped on her toe and broke it or something terrible at that - he'd be shunned for years upon years to come, and such and such. "I'm just an assistant... child supervisor. Of Keroon." Pause, and, "We specialize in caring for brats all over Pern. Y'know the nannies - err, supervisors here? Well, they where all hired by us, see." Pause, and, again, "Did I say assistant? I meant vice." He's trying to just look nice for the Weyrwoman, truly.

 

Rainea quietly steps in, the Keroon messenger gazing towards the celebration.  Snickering a bit she steps up towards the crowd mumbling a hello, "G'day!"

 

Sasha is getting decidedly dizzy now. "Hang on a minute!" she slurrs slowly..."You were N'sync a second ago...Where did he go?" she looks around rather confused and then shrugging she peers at her new partner. "Oohhhhhh. Its yoooou V'tor!"

 

G'deon shuffles along the edge of this rather large crowd, a wine glass in hand though it's hardly been touched.  Sky-blue eyes dart from person to person, couple to couple, some eyed with amusement, though one...  The young recently promoted rider just shrugs, downing half the glass.

 

Loren blinks after the stranger as well, tilting her head curiously before giggling towards R'ave. "You didn't mean to break Ista." Another quiet giggle, and then she pauses in her swaying to snuggle. Again. "Maybe they just wanted to come visit? And they heard about all the wonderful 'lings graduating." Loren, of course, is as unbiased as they come. Really.

 

Ooo.. Hide. Yup.  Sasha's predicament is noted and symapthised with, although.. Eeee.. Drunk. *head shake* Please don't spot this lil pwetty brown rider just sorta blending with the tables over here.... Ilare is /invisible/. If she thinks it, thus, so it must be.  Oh, wait, no, thats what dragons do.. ugh..

 

Sora yawns, and relaxes in her chair, Catiminith having settled down. Munch. Munch. HappyRolls.

 

Reiko's lips twist in a wry halfsmile. "Indeed... so, Kinecha, how did you make out with that little one in the caverns the other day? Aera, was it?" She'd had to leave, and missed all the... fun.

 

Rainea goes home.

 

It's more likely that Egan would be hailed as a hero for turns and turns to come. Certainly the blueriders of the Weyr would be lining up to buy him a drink. "You're a nanny?" Pyrene asks him, eyes suddenly dark with sympathy. "Oh, you poor thing. I was a nanny here--I was head nanny in fact, and..." Her brows arch in amusement. "I promoted many of the current nannies myself. Certainly our new head, Tyara. I never heard of a child supervising centre in Keroon." Her eyes blink innocently at him.

 

"Hey Gid.. err, G'deon," Kinecha says and waves to the resently promoted rider, "congratulations!" She turns back to Reiko. "The kid? Oh, I did my best to ignore her and she left." Best thing to do with kids, in her humble oppinion. Just ignore them.

 

R'ave's radar keens in on a lone Sora, and his arm falls from Loren's shoulder to snatch her hand. "Let's go see Sora?" he suggests, weaving away from V'tor. Ew. "She looks lonely." Over there -- with her HappyRolls.

 

Show off. Marianne thinks this, but with absolutely no venom whatsoever, as she is one herself, at times. Nodding to her companions, whom seem very amused by this whole exchange, she grins ruefully, "I'm being dragged off by this horrible man who wants to make me sing," she sighs dramatically, but takes his arm smoothly, as if heading for an execution. "I'll put up with it.... somehow." The dark haired man chuckles softly and remarks to the crowd around them, "Brave soul, is she not?" The couple heads off, back towards the stage and the harpers with their heads held close together as if discussing something. Marianne's musical laughter is evident as she pokes him in the side and he dances away to take up a position, ready to sing. Marianne talks with the performers briefly, and they strike up a few notes, warning everyone the dance is about to begin.

 

After spending all that time under the table, Lis finally reemerges along with the sound of not one, but multiple empty bottles tinkling together. Of course, it could simply be two - or five. Crawling out on hands and knees, she brushes hair of her face as she looks up. They're still not patrolling her table, are they?

 

G'deon suddenly smile, waving to Kinecha as he makes his way over to the guard.  "Hello there, Necha.  Lovely day, isn't it?  And thank you."  He turns, glass to his lips as he continues to watch the crowd as another song is under way.

 

Loren bobs her head, sending neon-curls bobbling and threatening to spill over their flowery circlet. "Sora! Okay." A beam, a glow, and a fingerwiggle towards V'tor -- Loren's got the deranged idea he's safer than half the other ex-'lings she'd met -- and the bakerlet weaves along behind R'ave contentedly. Very contentedly. "Sora, Sora."

 

Egan coughs. Caught. But not quite. "Oh, of course," Egan fumbles with excuses. "High Reaches wasn't a part of the Keroon Pernese Child Supervision Alliance that long, ago. We've upgraded since the past decade." Beam, nod, that sounds about right. Or something. Noticing the dance is about to start, Egan clears his throat. "Shall we discuss this as we dance, Weyrwoman?"

 

 

"Loren, Loren," Sora returns with a beam. "R'ave, R'ave. How /are/ you two?" Bluelet bounces slightly, removing another unwanted bodypart from her HappyRoll. Beam.

 

Blink, blink.  Lis on da floor? What she doin' down there?  "You alright there, Lis?"  Hints of confusion touch Ilare's tone, and the bronling steps back to view the green rider emerging from beneath. "Need a hand?"

 

V'tor ignores the glowering looks slanted at his back from N'sync as he makes off with Sasha.  "Yup, it's me!"  A look is given the smaller 'rider before he holds up a hand in front of her face.  "How many hands to you see?"  N'sync, egotist that he is, follows the two for a few moments before reaching out and ... gently? taking Sasha from the bluerider's grip.  "I think she was my partner first, mate."  And with that, there they go!  Not caring for the music being supplied, he puts his own fine voice into action.  V'tor snarls something, notes Loren's fingerwiggle and offers her a dashing smile or two before spotting... ILARE!  A dash through the crowd and he comes behind her.  Not giving her a chance to get away, he snatches her up by her waist and swings her into the fray.  Evil, evil rider.

 

"You're welcome, G'deon," Kinecha says to the rider. "It's funny, y'know. I got my promotion myself just the other day." More ale goes down her throat and she smiles to G'deon.

 

Pyrene decides to let him call her by her title. It gives her an edge in the argument. Letting him guide her among the others assmebling for the dance, she repeats: "Past decade? I Impressed barely three turns ago. And I'm sure Tyara would have mentioned it since then. You've met Tyara, I assume?"

 

One thin eyebrow disappears under Reiko's thick fringe of bangs as Kinecha's focus turns to the rider... and his to Kinecha, with not so much as a nod in her direction. Indeed. She turns away and refills her glass, then steps away a bit, eyes on the crowd, perhaps for another familiar face... or perhaps back to the Weyr.

 

Lis decides the coast is clear, and climbs free of her makeshift cave with remarkably few stains on her taffetta; then again, it /is/ lime green, and grass stains aren't likely to show. Wobbling to her feet, she bobs back in front of Ilare. And her twin sister. "Aw, naw. I'm jus' /fine/," she assures the bluerider, starting to waft about the crowd in a drunken sort of weave. Oh, Pyreeeene!

 

Skiyra goes home.

 

R'ave glances warily at the emergent greenrider, sidling closer to Loren. "Good, we're good -- how're you, Sora?" Everything he says is mildly distracted; don't blame him, he's watching Lis careen. It's kind of amusing.

 

The song starts off slowly, a few notes behind them are all the beginning the performers need. The tall harper and Marianne exchange a mischevious wink, and strike their poses, Marianne standing only a few steps away from him, with her arms over her chest, and him standing with his hands on his hips. "Why can't you behave?" The first line of the song is sung with masculine exasperation, and his hands are thrown up in the air, as the music soars in a sweeping fashion. Marianne's own face reflects loving sweetness. "How can you be jealous.. when you know, darling, I'm your slave!" She reaches up a hand to stroke his cheek. "I'm just mad for you... and I'll allways be.... buuutt naturally!" The music starts to pick up to a jaunty tune, bouncy, lively, and highly dancable, as Marianne pats his cheek once and turns her back to lean into her fellow performer's chest and sway slightly.

 

Ilare would scream as she snatched away, but that wouldn't be very pleasent for any involved. But.. V'tor is TOUCHING her! He's dragging her away! Eww! "Let. Go." Grrr. Amber eyes flare with annoyance. Hello? She was avoiding you for a reason. Stepping back, Ilare tries to pull herself from V'tor's grip. Not very successfully, but she does try.

 

Sasha spins giddily back to N'sync and blinks. "Now for a minute I could have /sworn/ you were V'tor...she leans over her shoulder and shouts at the rapidly disappearing V'tor "Too many hands to count, V'tor, if thats any help...hic!" Gazing back at N'sync, she's beginning to be aware that this is a guy who also has too many hands."Stop it! Hic! You're tickling!"

 

Egan blinks. "Oh, yes. Well, we're... secret. Or something. But that doesn't matter, now does it? Of course not." Nervous smile, and Egan leads Pyrene into the dance, careful not to bump into the pregnant goldrider. That would just not make good for his reputation. "I've... never heard or met Tyara," Egan says, then explains, "Keroon's rather secluded, at the moment." Or Egan hopes, for the sake of his excuse.

 

Oh, sure it's amusing, until she's careening your way - which Lis certainly does, aiming for R'ave and ending up facing some point to the left of the bronzerider. "Mmm, he/llo/, sweet thing. /Nice/ stems, as always, I must say." Was that Loren there? And Sora? Oops.

 

Loren is dashingly beamed at, and fingerwiggles at V'tor again, because he's there, and Loren thinks he's safe, and she didn't have to put up with him for eighteen months, and all that sort of thing. A blink and a quiet giggle are directed Lis-wards, bakerlet then sidling towards R'ave and attempting to talk to Sora at the same time. "Ooh, we're fine, yup. Fine." Beam, glow. She'd make a comment about R'ave being fine, but he's in a dress and she'd probably get strange looks. She'll wait. "Yeah!" Beam. "How're you?" And then another blink towards Lis. "..um." Blink.

 

Kinecha notices Reiko stepping away, out of the corner of her eye, "Reiko? Don't go," she says and beckons her to come back. "Reiko, this is G'deon, rider of Nylanth." She introduces the woman to the bronzerider, not really sure that he's listening.

 

"Really?" G'deon asks Kinecha, a genuine smile creasing his face rather... well, fittingly.  "That's wonderful news, congratulations.  I guess they couldn't hold you back any longer once they saw how well you'd handled things... um, earlier."  He suddenly spots a familiar pair of ex-wingmates and smiles to Reiko and Kinecha apologetically.  "Terribly sorry, I have a small favor to fill," he tells them setting down his now empty wine glass and making his way to a less than compatible brown and blue pair.  "Excuse me V'tor, but I couldn't help noticing... um, would you like to dance?"  And not waiting he swings the man off into the crowd, winking at Ilare over his shoulder.

 

"Goooooo--" Sora's drawn out, happy reply is cut off with a short stare at the greenrider. "Yeah. Um." The Thing in Lime-Green gets a watery smile. "Lis, darling...have a seat?" Stop scaring the young ones?

 

Reaching her hands up to grab his hands, which he surrenders with a look of mock fatality, his face clearly saying, 'why do I put up with her?' to the audience. "If a custom-tailored vest, asks me out for something wet, if the vest begins to pet, I shout hurray!" The look on the man's face is an absolute picture of shock, annoyance, and his mouth appears to be open and really about to say something, but she lifts her arms, and his together in that gesture of crying hurray in truth, before she wheels around and lays a finger on his lips. "But I'm always true to you, darling, in my fashion... oh, I'm always true to you, darling, in my way!"

 

Ilare is in the midst of struggling when... Blink.  G'deon sweeps in and.. dances off with V'tor? Gape. Giggle. Hmm.. now's a good time to escape, yes? A beeline, straighter than most, is made for the 'safety' of Reiko and Kinecha - THEY'LL protect this poor brownling, right?

 

Pyrene isn't too fussed about people bumping into her bump. She's collided with enough things by now to be certain that one more knock isn't going to more damage to the brat. "Keroon's secluded? And here Quara's always made it sound like so much fun. So tell me.... Egan," she carefully executes a twirl and then fixes her gaze intently on his. "Is Keroon the den of debauchery that she claims?"

 

R'ave is hardly scared -- he's seen Lis in worse conditions than drunk. "Thanks, Lis, I appreciate that," he answers, an arm extending for balance issues, if nothing else. We wouldn't want her to fall over, now would we? "S'okay, Loren, she's drunk. You know, like I was last night?" The baker's angled a slight, mischevious grin.

 

Elehu wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

V'tor smiles widely as he holds Ilare tightly against him.  No getting away now!  "It's just a dance, love."  And he's stronger than she is, so nyah!  "Maybe I'll keep you for the next four... or five."  Sasha's words reach his ears and he pauses slightly to shout back: "Recount them then!"  He makes sense to himself, and that's enough.  One hand comes away from restricting Ilare to stroke her face.  "Such soft skin... nothing like most o' those holder girls."  Beam.  He's pulling his moves on her... and gets dragged away. "G'deon!"  Swoon-- it's a strong bronzerider!  Ilare gets another up-down look before he's hauled away.  He'll live-- for now.

 

Loren blushes, managing a giggle towards R'ave a vague fingerwiggle in the general direction of the departing-Lis. "I think I like it better when your drunk," is murmured, bakerlet managing a half-innocent beam towards him before blinking at Sora. "You've been good? And Catiminith, too? He got big. Yup."

 

Hyzen, with the kindly help of a delicate forelimb, manages to pull themself up Imbriath's straps and betwixt ridges of star-kissed emerald.

 

Imbriath bunches powerful muscles, wings pumping with strength, before leaping into the air.

 

Above, Imbriath sweeps in from the sloping meadows below.

 

Above, Imbriath warbles softly as she prepares for the inevitable leap into the rigid coldness

and nothingness, slipping easily into the domain of ::between::!

 

Ilare slips sround and behind where Reiko and KInecha are, appropriately blocking any attempts to get to her by V'tor. Should he return. And he will..  **shiver**  "Thank you, Kinecha. It.. It's great to finally have been made a full rider!" Beam...

 

tugs his boots up violently, dark eyes almost rueful as the trail after the greenrider. "It's nothing I haven't had before," he sing-songs after her, a slightly startled blink then turned toward Loren. "You like what be-- /oh/." Um. It's R'ave's turn to pretend to be invisible.

 

Pyrene is duly impressed with Egan's smoothness and slickness. It's like dancing with a bronzerider. Or Oren. "Lots of drinking for one. And other fun things to do indoors," she returns, equally glib. Over their heads, Cadgwith suddenly starts looming, craggy head hanging nervewrackingly low as she curiously regards this person dancing with her rider.

 

G'deon just laughs softly, the slow tempo of the music not stopping him from swiftly dancing V'tor through the crowd, to the end opposite Ilare.  "Well, mate, I'll admit I haven't dance in a while, but you're not bad.  Now... back to the wine."  Yes, wine is good.  He just touched V'tor of all poeple.  And... danced with him.  "Yes, wine."

 

Kinecha nods, "I can imagine," she says, feeling the same at being at full guard. Of course, it's probably nowhere near the same feeling as having a lifemate at your side enjoying the moment.

 

This time, however, he definitely does get his say in, as a deep masculine voice, laced with wry tones of humour and resignation vibrates off the stage area. "I suppose you could never curl your lip, at a dazzling diamond clip?" He looks at her with an oddly hopeful look, as if he was hoping she'd deny it anyway... although he knew she wouldn't. And of course, she doesn't! She grins at him with the devilishness and sweetness of a temptress, mixed with the impishness of a child. "Though the clip meant.. let 'er rip.. I'd not say nay!" He throws his hands up in resignation, turning around to the audience and gesturing to her, as if to say, 'Can you believe this?" And yet, here comes the traditional denial.... "But I'm always true to you, darling, in my fashion! Oh, I'm always true to you, darling.. in my way...." She lifts her hands to her heart as if shocked he would think otherwise, holding the note low and husky.

 

Sora switches to eyeing the pair. A snort, before she replies equably enough, "Oh, yup. Very big." And the beam resurfaces, directed blue-ways. Hee. "He's almost done growing, I think. Very good." So much for sense.

 

"Debaushery, love," Lis slurs at Egan, solely because he's Pyrene's companion and she's decided to wobble drunkenly over to the goldrider next. "If you ask /me/, I think it all left with that wench. Did you /see/ her dress? Sharding half /naked/." Not that Lis wasn't entirely appreciative - or is entirely clothed herself - but, for the sake of argument. "H'lo, Pyrene. Are you trolling for bedpartners in the bratcaves, eh?" By this, she means Egan's age.

 

Elehu smiles suddenly.  At last, a familiar face, other than that insane bronzerider of course.  "Kinecha!" she calls out excitedly, almost colliding with someone as she scurries over.  "How are you?  How are you feeling?" she asks, nodding to Reiko and Ilare as well.

 

Loren looks marginally smug, beaming again towards R'ave before giggling Sora-wards. "Ooh, he's still not done? He'll be really big, then, I guess. 'cause.. he's already big now, and stuff. Yeah." Lo's such a smart little baker. Really, she is. "There were a lotta big dragons in your clutch."

 

Heh, well, you never know.. "It's a good party, though. And we made sure the dragons had access.." Hers lead the dancing, as you may or may not have been witness to. Ilare blinks, and nods, smiling towards Elehu. OOoo.. She knos you.  Didn't they meet outside the living caverns? Y'know, the week back when they were weyrlings, and were finally allowed out of the barracks? A new glass of wine, containing some of the fine benden Lyri got them (wasn't THAT a shocker?), is sipped with care.

 

Sasha almost slides out of N'sync's grasp as she heads for the wine table. Grinning woozily at V'tor and gid she giggles "Oh Guys! You make a lovely couple!" before grabbing another glass of wine and swigging some of it down.

 

Give up? Not so fast Sasha! keeping pace with the green rider, N'sync sweeps in beside her and taking advantage of her dizzy state, pulls her back into the throng of danceing people. "Hey come on..you can't escape from me that easily, babe!"

 

"Someone should put that woman on leash," R'ave comments of Lis, blinking. "Someone who hasn't already, I mean." Sora is kinked a faint grin as his eyes search for Catiminith, nodding in agreement for all of what Loren says.

 

Kinecha turns around, a little shakily, and spots Elehu, "Hiya, Ele," she says and waves. "I'm feeling great! Got promoted a coupla days ago, so I thought I'd come up here and celebrate with the new riders." She drains the rest of the ale, goes to refill it and quickly comes back to the group.

Bebe wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

"She'd probably like it," Sora purrs smugly in response to R'ave's comment, wiggling in her chair before tone flips back to normal. Loren is given a beam. "Yep! Soquilith's big too, huh R'ave?"

 

"Promoted?" Delight colours Ilare's words. "You did? Oh, that's great, Necha!" Beam.  Just wonderful! "And about time too. Well done, my friend!"

 

Egan eyes Cadgwith, sort of sterring Pyrene in a position so that the nanny can hide behind - or would it be in front? - the /slightly/ older woman. That was directed to Lis, 'course. A light 'oh' is reponse to the definition, and Egan clears throat. As he does often. "It was. Nice." Egan won't get into details. "You're looking quite revealing yourself," replies nanny with a wink to greenrider, just for the fun of it. Hopefully drunk is all in fun. Right? "Well, I wouldn't be one to ask... I'm either cooped up in the children's quarters, or I'm off on those new fieldtrip plan. Education for brats in different locations. Makes no sense to me - taxi's drunk half the time." Egan refrains from saying anymore.

 

Pyrene laughs at Lis, despite her disapproval of the greenrider's state. "Not at all Lis..." she says, smooth as ever. "I was merely keeping him warm for /you/, m'dear," and before either can object, she's slipped away leaving them facing each other. Ducking through the crowds she reaches the dubious safety of Cadgwith and heads for her own weyr--alone. It's late.

 

Elehu smiles up at a rather tall Harper passing by, accepting a glass from him before turning back to the trio beside her.  "Kinecha, that's wonderful news!  And how is everything healing?"  There may be just a hint of worry still in her voice, though it's quickly gone as she holds out a hand towards Ilare.  "And congratulations to you as well, rider," she tells the young woman with a smile.

 

Pyrene goes home.

 

Cadgwith goes home.

 

Bebe has disconnected.

 

yawns loudly and closes her eyes. Sleepy-town calleth. Night all!

 

Tanella wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Tanella goes home.

 

"Lis should go take a nap," is Loren's only comment, bakerlet more concerned with talking to Sora and snuggling close to R'ave than with the greenrider's current state of.. not-soberness. A slight headbob, and then the bakerlet continues, answering Sora's question in R'ave's place -- thankfully, she leaves room for further comment. "Soquilith's a very big bronze, yup, yup. Yup." Mm-hmm. Lo's smart.

 

G'deon scowls slightly as he walks away from the bluerider, an involuntary shudder given as he finds another glass of wine, this time of that wonderful Benden red.  He takes a careful sip and smiles.  "Much better... much," he mutters.  He scans the crowd, either looking for a dance partner or someone to rescue is anyone's guess.  He /did/ come here to dance though...

 

"Just fine, thanks, Ele," Kinecha says and lifts up in her tunic, as if to illustrate the point to the healer. Nothing to see though since the wound is still bandaged. "I think the stitches can come out soon." A sip is taken from the ale, and she grins to the healer and the new rider.

 

R'ave huffs softly, tousling his own hair. "Yeah.. too big. I could get lost on him," he answers kindly, as an auxiliary statememt after Loren, swinging his hand in hers slowly. He would offer G'deon a dance, but he's fairly sure his clutchmate wouldn't appreciate it.

 

Sitting down on the meadow's grass, the male harper  puts his hands over his head, rocking back and forth as if he really, really cannot believe that this is happening to him. He bangs his head against the ground, and then raises it up a moment later, with a look of 'why me?' on his face. But as Marianne continues to dance around him merrily, her feet flying around in an impish dance of joy, he springs to his feet, his eyes flashing with indignation. Grabbing her hands, he drags her out of her dance and forces her to stand still, holding her wrists like visors. "There's that stiff from Ista Hold," he accuses, "Who is rich, but such a bore!" He yawns in a contemptous fashion, glaring at her out of heated eyes. Marianne's spirit is not daunted, however. She leans in close to him, with a sweet look of widened eyes, leaning her head on his shoulder. "When the bore falls on the floor... I let him lay!" She picks up her head, and winks at him, giving him a kiss on the lips, since he hands are still held by him. "But I'm always true to you, darling in my fashion....." Her hands are dropped by him as if in shock, resignation, or both, and he looks up at the sky as if to find answers there. Marianne twirls around him with unbelievable energy, finally ending up in front of him to finish her song with a high, laughing note. "In my fashion... oh, yes.. I'm always true to you.... darling, in my waaaaaayyyyy!" She finishes by leaning towards him with angelic pose, the music coming to a jaunty close.

 

Lis smiles faintly after Pyrene as she runs away, looking more like her old self despite all the alcohol she's consumed. Egan's statement recieves a sudden cock of her head, and she plucks at the edge of her bodice as if she'd just noticed she was female. "Oh, am I? You forget how much dresses reveal when you're used to seeing 'em on your weyrmate, and /he/ doesn't have anything in the way of a bust." Leash comments a mostly-ignored, or possibly not heard; she's not exactly been paying attention to reality today.

 

Ilare accepts the offered hand, light smile touching her lips. "Thank you.. Elehu, right?" Not completely sure but.. Releasing the hand she pushes a lock of hair behind an ear, eyes looking back over the group.  V'tor is /far/ away. Thank Faranth! "Excuse me a minute?" She smiles and nods to her companions, before slipping away, towards some of her clutchmates.  Grinning, she comes to a halt after passing and patting Sora on the shoulder, coming to a halt next to G'deon, elbowing him lightly, smile of sincere thanks on her face, before giving a sigh of relief. "Can you believe it?  Weyrlinghood is over.."

 

[Elementalings] Vespurath nods.  I pose that large -- every one a year or something...

 

[Elementalings] Vespurath loves, but must run.  *smooch*

 

Vespurath disappears into the mountain through a small crevice.

 

[Elementalings] Ilare adores..

 

Vespurath shivers, crawling out of the crevice into the meadow.

 

Vespurath heads back down the trail towards the weyr.

 

R'ave overhears Lis, and a mental image of D'renn with a bust pops into his head. Thank you, Soquilith. "Oh.. ew, Soquilith, that's not.. great." It's disgusting.

 

The housekeeper arrives to cart Bebe off to bed.

 

Leashes work well, but Egan wouldn't know... or shouldn't, at least. "Err. Pyrenee," is small wail as the goldrider leaves him to Lis. Amazing he remembered the name. Eyeing the greenrider, Egan responds, "That'll be the day." But perhaps someone spike the redfruit juice after all - Egan stumbles over feet in drunken way, tripping and nearing a fall into Lis. Which would not be quite appreciated. Cough. "Dance?" He's desparate.

 

Elehu giggles slightly at Kinecha.  "Well, maybe in the morning I can take care of that for you.  I'll still be around for at least another sevenday..."  She then turns back to Ilare and nods.  "Aye, that I am," she replies with a smile, nodding as the brownrider makes her way back into the crowd.

 

"It is!" Sora is gradually confused, along with some helpful Cati-images that most likely resemble Soquilith's, from the frown on Sora's face. Hence, she answers Ilare. "And I'm a Mudslider!" Beam.

 

Ilare blinks, then chuckles. "Well done to you!" When did this happen? Knew she should have stuck around instead of dashing to change then coming here to help finish setting things up.. "Any of the rest of you get tapped?"

 

G'deon smiles over at Ilare as she nears, a slight bob of the head given inresponse to the jab in the side though it could hardly have hurt the one-time Smith.  "Very hard to imagine," he replies, voice barely carrying above the din.  He grins at Sora.  "Congratulations!" he tells her.  "Annalee is a wonderful wingleader, I'm sure you'll do well."  For the briefest of moments though, his eyes cloud over and he quickly glances back out to the dancing revelers, glass half-drained in a single gulp.

 

Kinecha nods slowly and smiles at Elehu. "Sounds good. I'll come over to the infirmary first thing in the morning, then." That is if the guard could get herself out of bed with the hangover she'd have in the morning. Been a long time since she's had anything to drink at all. Alcohol, of course.

 

Loren strays away from any train of thought that involves D'renn with a bust, occupying whatever space free in her brain with images of less frightening pictures. A vague beam is directed R'ave-wards again for no apparent reason, and then the bakerlet blinks towards Sora, listening in on the comments between Ilare and the bluerider for a moment before commenting. "..ooh! You got tapped? Great!" Beam, glow, cheerfulness. Moreso than before. "Good for you."

 

Lis puts out a her hands to catch Egan, but she's not entirely sober - or even partially sober - either, nor is she that painful of something run into, compared to, say, a rock. "Why, I'd love to," she purrs at Egan, those catching arms starting to snake possessively around the nanny-type.

 

Elehu smiles again at Kinecha and nods, her wineglass, for that's what the Harper had given her, idly raised to her lips.  "And... Reiko," ah, she's been working on her manners... sort of.  "How have you been?"

 

Coming to the front of the harper's stage, Fenn clears her throat. "Ok, we are going to slow things down a little now for a song that I wrote a while ago...and it's kind of appropriate to this occasion. Enjoy!"

 

Now that the song is over, the couple upon the stage llifts from their pose, and the dark haired harper pokes Marianne in the side, giving her a light buss on the cheek. Walking forward, the pair lifts their hands and bows low to the crowd in a perfect, consummate salute, offering harper smiles and waves to all those who call out to them. A moment later, however, they step down from the stage, motioning to their fellow musicians to continue their work. The tall man, as soon as he's off the stage, steps away with a whisper to Marianne, who grins and waves to him, whispering something to make him laugh. He moves away across the meadow, and Marianne turns back to the crowd.. all alone again.

 

A soft, poignant introduction is played on Delilah's guitar, the melodic notes weaving around the meadow.

 

 

Egan has never been fond of snakes, but the serpents which coil around nanny now are invited. Egan cautiously moves hands to right positions - resisting any detours along the way - and Egan clears throat with a polite nod to Lis. "Let us dance, then." Eyes are also frantically darted around to various different sights, setting limits on certain viewing.

 

Fennara, holding her pipes in one hand, stands quietly listening to the introduction and then taking a deep breath, gazes out across the audience. In a soft, lilting voice which projects effectively, she begins to sing....

 

"In this get-up, I'll be lucky to be tapped at /any/ time in the near future," R'ave answers G'deon slowly, yanking at his boots and grinning kudos to the bluerider.

 

Elehu should never drink when she's not paying attention, for before too long her glass is empty.  She glances up at Kinecha and laughs softly.  "I haven't had much to drink in a while," he tells the guard quietly.

 

Like dragonet from shell,

I open innocent eyes,

Know that you are somewhere

Somewhere in my world,

 

Nooooo kidding R'ave," Sora says impishly, bouncing at Loren and Gid. "Yes! I got tapped!" Beam. "We get to do drills in the afternoon."

 

Cooling breeze wuthers,

Chills my heart fearful,

Cold as between, freezing sense,

Unfledged wings are furled.

 

 

Kinecha goes to get her mug refilled, just being happy to drink again, and doing it among people she liked. "So, Ele. Think you'll ever get back here permenantly?" She says as she stumbles back to the healer. Could it be that the guard could no longer hold her alcohol? Impossible! She'd been drinking since she'd been around 13 turns old.

 

Lis makes no bones about preserving her person space, and she doesn't have Pyrene's modesty-iducing bump to deter partners from encroaching. Swaying back and forth to the slow beat - something she does rather well - the greenriders eyes lid shut as she informs Egan in a bare whisper, "You smell wonderful."

 

G'deon turns, smiling at R'ave.  "We all find a place eventually, R'ave, I wouldn't worry about it."  His eyes dart to the stage as another song begins, this one softer, slower.  He glances to the side of him, then down at his glass, which he wastes no time draining.

 

Fenn's voice blends well with the harmonies of the softly plucked guitar, and she raises her head, giving the chorus an emotional charge...

 

Auri wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Ilare sways very slightly to the music, half listening to the lyrics, partially concentrating on the conversation going on around her. Pretty words, yes. Her own glass is sipped lightly, slightly, before just being held, arms wrapped about her.

 

I'll come searching,

I'm not hard to tame,

You'll impress me,

And I'll tell you my name.

With the bond we'll have I know I'll take you high,

If you want me, hold me tight, and let me fly.

 

Elehu takes a few short steps over to a nearby table, a glass of white wine picked up, though she's not exactly careful about which wine it is.  She nods slowly to Kinecha, her brow furrowing slightly as she turns to face the crowds.  "Well... I don't know, Necha, to tell the truth.  I wouldn't mind, but it just hasn't worked out yet.  I love my post right now, don't get me wrong, but I'm landbred.  A ship just isn't my place, you know?"

 

R'ave sticks his tongue out at Sora, glancing after Loren as she skitters toward the wine table. Hrm. "Ah, I'm not really worried, Gid. We're all from the same place, anyway."

 

G'deon finally sighs, setting down his his glass on the nearest table.  He turns to the small group beside him and tries on his most dashing grin... which by now is actually getting rather good.  "Okay, I came up here to dance," he says, amusement tinging his mellow voice.  "Anyone care to give this rogue a spin?"  Other than certain male blueriders that is.

 

The plucked melody of the guitar can be heard, as Delilah weaves around the refrain, as Fenn prepares to sing the second verse, using her free hand to echo the words....

 

What about certain male bronzeriders? *pout*

 

Never said anything against those.  ;>

 

Sasha's head is feeling heavier...and heavier....and the whole meadow is spinning eerily. "How did they do that?" she mumbles slowly, as N'sync pulls her head onto his shoulder and they sway to the slow song.

 

Kinecha winces as she nods, ships weren't her place either. She'd been on land all her life, except that time when she'd travelled to Ista. "I get seasick," she mentions, glances around to see if she can spot any food, and finds a tray with sweetrolls passing by her, carried by a drudge. She quickly grabs a few, and chews a bite carefully.

 

I reach out,

Yearn to have you touch me,

Feel warmth of your acceptance,

Undenied.

 

Egan blinks. A clueless blink, too. He smells nice? That should be good, right? Maybe. Swaying in the same motion of sorts, Egan is careful not to step on toes of the greenrider. "Your hair smells nice," Egan notes after an undetectable whiff of the substance. "I'm glad to hear I smell nice, after being around brats all day." Its a grunt, and Egan gives up all form of personal space, too. No need for it as long as no one bumps into him - which they should think before doing, seeing Egan is dancing with /Lis/, the busty-queen.

 

R'ave tilts a pretty smile toward G'deon, suggesting nothing, really. He blames the medication Kariel put him on for his back, so every else should.

 

"Rogue?" Sora voice rises, laughing. "You're not a rogue, Gid. I'll dance with you, though?" Flutter. Isn't she nice?

 

No. *sniffle*

 

Hah, right. Dream on, B'ritney.. Examining her own glass, and noting that a certain blue who shall remain NAMEless is headed RIGHT back their way. Eeep. "I owe you a dance, don't I G'deon?" She wonders aloud, planting her drink to one side. Turning, Ilare tilts an eyebrow, smile amused, before nodding. "And you need to dance with Sors here.. If anyone wants me.. I'll be with Chan.."  Her dragon is a SAFE place to hide..

 

How about square dancing

 

 

Take my soul,

Know I'll stay forever,

Give me wings,

And let me fly.

 

Elehu sigh softly and shrugs.  "Well, I've never had that trouble, but... you just can't /run/ on a ship.  It's only so long," says the Healer rather impishly.  "But they needed a Healer, and I hadn't been posted so... that's how it worked."  She glances at the guard out of the corner of her eye before studying the dancers again.  "Though, a Weyr can /always/ use another Healer..."

 

 

I'll come searching,

I'm not hard to tame,

You'll impress me,

And I'll tell you my name,

And the feelings that we'll share, no one can buy,

If you need me hold me tight and let me fly.

 

 

R'ave sulks slightly, lifting a rather poignant gaze to Ilare. He's all /alone/. His girl needed a drink, and Sora stole his fire, and how can you resist a pout like that?

 

Reiko makes her way back through the crowd toward Kinecha and the ... healer is it? She squints at the unfamiliar knot. "Hello!" she says brightly, coming over to refill her empty glass. How many of those has she had, anyway?

 

Lis can't really dance in the same space all the time, and she slowly leads herself and Egan in a spiral in no particular direction - though it happens to be R'ave and Company's. As she takes advantage of the innocnet Keroonian by using his shoulder as a headrest, she peers over at the boot-wearing brozerider before calling to him, "Hey, Stems. Next dance, it's me and you." That's not an offer - that's an /order/. And he'd better like the nickname Stems.

 

G'deon nods quickly to Ilare, a hint of a frown flashing across his face before he turns his baby-blues on the newly made bluerider.  "Alright Sora, you were first to speak up.  Shall we?"  He bows in front of her, that roguish grin doing a good job to dissuade anyone from thinking he could be anything /but/ a rogue... for now.

 

Kinecha grins, studying the dancers as well, "so you /have/ to be posted, to become a healer?" She hadn't know that. But what did she know about crafts anyway. Not a whole lot.

 

 

Ilare can resist /easily/.  But still.. Sighing lightly, she pokes R'ave's shoulder, ignoring the look G'deon gives her. "C'mon, wanna dance while you wait for Loren to finish... doing, getting a drink, or what have you?".  

 

Bringing her pipes to her lips, Fenn, eyes closed, begins to play a haunting variation of the melody in the verse. As her fingers fly nimbly over the holes, notes waft like gossamer from the stage, emphasising with echoing dips and trills, a feeling of need to be accepted and loved.

 

Elehu grins as Reiko returns, then turns to Kinecha, shaking her head softly.  "No, not exactly.  It's just that there are so many positions open, and only so many Healers, so if we can fill them, we will.  Besides..." and here the rather petite Healer takes a long sip of wine, "last time I tried to stick around without being posted anywhere I kind of... stepped on some toes."

 

 

Above, Rubyth flies in from the southwest.

 

Above, Rubyth drops down through the heavy winds to land in Alpine Meadows.

 

Rubyth lands gently despite the buffeting winds above.

 

R'ave twitches a little, not sure why he's responding to such an absurd tag. "Yes! Dancing, Ilare, this direction!" Before he has much of a chance to adjust his, um, dress, the bronzer stations careful hands at the brownrider's waist. He whirls in such a way that G'deon is largely in sight of Ilare. Matchmaker, matchmaker...

 

As the instrumental bridge within the song reaches a powerful crescendo, Fenn pulls the pipes away from her mouth. With strength and passion in her voice she breaks into the final chorus....

 

Rubyth bunches powerful muscles, wings pumping with strength, before leaping into the air.

 

Above, Rubyth sweeps in from the sloping meadows below.

"Sure!" Chirp. Sora pushes off, twisting slightly and entreating Ilare, "Ilare? Hold my roll, would you, please?" Flutter. HappyRoll.

 

Kinecha blinks, and then shrugs, grinning to Reiko, "Reiko, hi," the guard say, having not even noticed that the woman had gone. "This is Elehu. She'd the one who sewed up my cut." Good way of introducing a healer right?

 

 

When you find me,

It won't be the same.

I'll protect you,

Guard your heart with my flame,

I'll be there for you, until the day I die,

If you love me, hold me tight and let me fly.

 

Above, Rubyth drops down through the heavy winds to land in Alpine Meadows.

 

Rubyth lands gently despite the buffeting winds above.

 

There is a slight pause, both instrumental and vocal, and then almost in a whisper, Fenn echoes....

 

If you love me, hold me tight, and let me fly.

 

Shards. There goes the great view. Now that Lis' head is on Egan's shoulder, he'll just have to make use of other loose garments. But then, the infamous crash. *crash* Eyes instinctively dart to see /what/ in the world it was and - brats, naturally. Frowning, Egan attempts to lift Lis' frame from its leaning position upon his. "Erm. Sorry to interrupt the dance, dearie, but I need to go work something out." Placing a quick kiss upon greenrider's forehead, Egan gives Lis a twirl off. And who knows where to, for all that. Hopefully not into another crash. But Egan has to aid the current one, see.

 

Reiko looks up from filling her glass. "Hi, Elehu," she says brightly, as a bit of wine sloshes over the rim of the glass, staining the tablecloth. "Oops."

 

Elehu holds an arm out to escort Sora, then heads towards the dancing area.  "I'll warn you though," he says just loud enough for her to hear, "I haven't done this since... Ista."  Ouch.

 

Would if she could, Sora, but Ilare's just been whirled away, amusement lighting her eyes as R'ave practically whirls her as far from Lis' and her nickname for him as he can, yet still remaining near to their clutchsibs. "This direction? What's wrong with the other?"  Expression is perfectly innocent, although she notes V'tor sulking in a corner. He won't come harrass her while she's near bronze riders...

 

Delilah's quiet fingering of the accompanying guitar is all that can be heard as Fenn lowers her head and steps back. As the guitar ends, she looks up through her lashes and smiles shyly, her song done.

 

Of course, Marianne, now bereft of both singing partner and her potential dance partner, is now alone, watching the dance. Well, stnading around by herself is not going to do her any good, either. She sets off, after staring after her departing friend for a moment with a rueful stare. Well, that *would* have been fun, anyway. Now, however, she has to find someone else. But she doesn't *know* anyone else.... ah, well. She'd fix that... as soon as she got a drink, that is. Striding over to the table, Marianne picks up a cup of klah with a grateful smile and sips it down, looking over the crowd with a welcoming smile on her face.

 

R'ave nearly squeaks as Lis' gropi-- dancing partner makes for the 'brats, ducking as he sways in time with the music while trying to be discreet. "Nothing's wrong with the other direction. I just felt inspired." Pivoting lightly on his heavy, heavy heels, the bronzer is craeful of the beat and Ilare's vulnerable feet.

 

Rubyth flies away up high and disappears into ::between::

 

"Darn." Sora settles for stuffing the roll into her mouth, making for a rather cute, if stupid-looking version of a chipmunk. "Rewee?" Bronzelet's comment brings a rounded beam to her face. "Gooh. I'fn't danthed eethah inna long time." Swallow.

 

Lis is twirl'd off, and wobbles slightly - though whether from swoon or from wine, even she's not entirely sure. "What a nice young man," she states as Egan runs off after the kidlets, adding in a most Lis-ish way, "Nice body, too." But he's already run out on her for younger women. Alone again, she heads towards wine for its seductive solace, watching the blades of grass before they disappear beneath the hem of her dress.

 

Takovic wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

The housekeeper arrives to cart Egan off to bed.

 

N'sync reluctantly lets go of Sasha, as the slow dance ends. "Hey..would you like some more wine?" he urges the poor green rider, who doesn't seem to have much say in the matter as he guides her over to the tables.

 

G'deon just laughs softly and shrugs, facing Sora as his hands take hers in a usual dance position.  "Don't worry about it, we'll do fine," he assures her, slow steps easily followed with the steady beat.

 

Kinecha is still not drunk enough to even consider dancing, so she stands off to the side with Reiko, drinking her ale. "You know, I met most of the new riders back when they were candidate," she tells the woman.

 

Ilare snorts in vague amusement, disbelieving, but not arguing. "If you say so R'ave." Equally mindful of his feet stepping on hers, she frowns a second, before asking the question that's been plaguing her since the party began: "R'ave, deary? WHY are you dressed in.. well.. a dress?"

 

Sasha frowning a little as she is ushered past stops too at this point. "yeah...why R'ave? I mean its a very nice dresh and all, but its not really your usual mode of dressh..."

 

"Really?" Reiko actually looks impressed. Then her eyes scan the dancing riders again while she takes a long sip that empties her wineglass. "Been here that long?" She can't remember what Kinecha told her... if she did. Where's that wineskin?

 

Bailyn wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Kinecha nods, still sipping that ale. It felt so good to taste that again. "Aye, I came here just before the eggs clutched. So I was actually here when the first candidates came," she says nodding.

 

Elehu smiles softly at the other two women, then turns to watch the dancing crowd again, a slightly wistful look on her face.  But, not one to stand around and do nothing... she goes for another glass of wine.

 

Bailyn walks in. Oh, if only she knew anyone here.

 

Sora headbobs cheerfully, looking for all the world like a pig-filled python until the roll makes it past her throat. "Sure we will." That, as she moves slowly. Better than before, at least.

 

R'ave pays a little more attention to where his death-heels come to rest as the dances comes to an end, releases Ilare reluctantly -- tugging at the thigh-highs. "Well, it's.. it's /involved/, that's what it is," he answers evasively, eyeing one silverish toe. "I lost a bet."

 

G'deon just laughs again and swings Sora about slowly, dipping and striding in their little corner of the dancing area.  "All it really takes is practice," he rambles on.  "And the willingness to let go.  Relax."  Unless you have a dragon climbing into a Hold.  Then the motto is : Don't Panic!

 

A bet.. Ahh... Ilare doesn't see, but. She does.  Poor Rave.  Although.. the boots suit him.. *snicker* "Ah.  Say no more."  She really doesn't want to know. 

 

Reiko grins. "Musta been a sight," she says, returning to Kinecha's side with a newly-filled glass.

 

R'ave is rather fond of his boots -- they earned him a new, generally positive nickname. "I won't," he murmurs, glaring toward Soquilith, who's currently cracking jokes at his expense. "You are /so/ not funny."

 

Lis gives up on glasses for now, slinging a half-empty bottle in one hand as she finds a rock to lean up against. She drops to her taffetta'd bottom, insulated by layers of fluff against any injury, and proceeds to take conservative sips from the bottle resting in her lap. In general, she managing to look the greenriders your mother warned you about.

 

Kinecha salutes Reiko, a twinkle in her eyes show that the last sevenday's events has been forgotten. "It was, I tell ya. 'Specially some of those pranks that was played..."

 

Takovic just sits there, observing. Why he's even at a party isn't quite clear to him, but he's there. Maybe he'll write a Kamikaze wing fanfare or something. As of now, though, he's just sitting, fidgeting with his spectacles and being small among the evening's celebrated few.

 

Ilare rather thinks he is, but it is unlikely Soquilith's rider would like to hear her say that. "Umm.. right.. 'kay. Thank you for the dance, R'ave." And now to avoid meeting.. *ugh* V'tor between getting back to her wine and the safety of.. the group.

 

Loren scuttles back R'avewards, clutching a skin close and looking at random, trailing not-quite-weyrbrats irritably. "/My/ skin. I got it, I'm drinking from it, and you can't have it, so go away." A glower, and the bakerlet sticks her tongue out, then managing to beam towards R'ave and wiggle her fingers Ilare-wards as she end up in the general area of her weyrmate. "I brought wine." Beam, glow. Lo's so proud of herself.

 

Delilah lets the last notes of the previous song die away in the wind before rising to goto the platform.  A signal is given and the song begins slowly, a drum roll announcing the entrance of the pipes, played by Fennara.  Fennara begins to pipe merrily, her fingers dancing on the instrument, a strong steady beat in the background kept by the drum.  Pipes continue  a jig like tune, happy and joyful, while Delilah opens her mouth to sing. Her soprano floats through the crowd, strong and joyful, winding around peoples legs, begging them to dance to this happy song.  The notes sparkle in the air like little diamonds, glistening above the audiences' heads.

 

R'ave creeps away from his dragon, Ilare, and dancing in general, with a smile for the brownrider. Now to edge past Lis, who's looking like the greenrider incarnate of the Fonz. Takovic is noticed, as he usually is, and wagged a wave as he tugs at his boots, pouncing a susceptible wineskin. Which happens to be the one Loren's holding.

 

"I'm relaxed," Sora replies with a flash of a look Lis-ways, before she settles it back to the less-worrysome G'deon. "Yeah." And the Harpers get a head-tilt. "They're good, huh?"

 

"Indeed?" Emerald eyes are glittering, could Reiko be... relaxing? Hm. "Do tell." She turns to face Kinecha, ready to listen.

 

Bailyn grins, hearing a song. Glancing around at people, she gives them bright smiles. Maybe one will talk to her?

 

Tierza wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

G'deon glances at the Harpers as they end the current song, then he grins down at Sora.  "Not bad at all," he tells her with a bit of a wink.

 

Another figure is sort of standing to the side, finishing her cup of klah. Marianne looks around and finally sets it down firmly on the table to stride over to a nearby group of people and gives them a bright smile of greeting. Well, it all has to start somewhere. She offers a bob of a curtsey and a her smile turns purely harper and professional. "Well, are you enjoying yourself tonight?" She asks brightly, nodding to her fellow harpers with a twinkling grin. "We've been doing our best... but circulating always gives you an idea of what people want to hear... hard to tell up there, sometimes," her smiles quirks slightly, a dimple flickering into existence.

 

R'ave may edge past Lis, but it doesn't keep her from noticing him - if only due to the sparkly flash of boot somewhere around her eyelevel. "Steeeems," she calls plaintively, offering hands up limply towards him. "Don't leave a poor girl hanging." Or lolling drunkenly. Same difference.

 

If V'tor is watchifying, then Ilare will simply stay and /blend/.  By hiding beside her dragon. Yup.  The only way to avoid.. Him.  mRRF.

"Well, you see Sasha overthere?" Kinecha points to the greenrider. "She got her hair dyed, well blue actually." And that's about all she remembers, but grins to herself at the memory of Sasha's blue hair, and how she was threatening to kill the one who'd done it.

 

Elehu just sips at her wine slowly, eyes growing rather vacant as she seems to study the crowd, though her eyes aren't quite focused on it.  She glances over at Kinecha and Reiko again, a curious look on her face.

 

Tierza eyes the space, looking for ehr graduating friends but doesn't seem either of them. If she begged a ride all the way up here just to miss them.. *sighs* and heads to the wine table, may as well enjoy something right? winks at G;deon as she passes him and smiles appreciatively.

 

Chanticoth seems to have lost interest in what's going on around him, and has laid eyes on a discarded wine bottle. With some wine still in it. Hmm....

 

V'tor is good at watchifying, oh yes. But to be successful, watchifying is not enough. One much seek, searchicate. How else, then, will one get any sort of credit, approval, or indeed, victory. He's not called V'tor for nothing. He can /sensicate/ when he's being thought of, and fully confidenticated by the wine, he seeks.

 

Sasha  slowly makes her way towards the wine table, but before reaching it stops. "I'm not sho shure this ish a good idea, N'shync!" she falters, on the verge of a slight totter. Sasha? Totter? Its so not in her nature. Hearing her name mentioned she leans over to where Kinecha is sitting and calls out "Thing is...I kinda like the blue now...it goes well with Brannie's hide...hic!"

 

"Chan.."  No answer for the brown rider as she takes shelter next to her lifemate, eyes sweeping the area again. "Chan..?" Bottle? What bott--ooooh, that one. "Chan, what you up to?" Voice is playful, as she rests a hand atop one of his ridges.

 

Bannon wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Delilah holds her gitar higher and begins to strum out some brisk major chords, plucking added for variation.  No words adorn her song, just her voice, swaying around the scale, and swirling around the music of the pipes.  The pipes have high notes that sweetly dance above the dancers heads, ruffling their hair and singing in their ears. The gitar slips through the crowd, while the steady beat of the drum crawls along the floor, teaching the beat to the dancers feet.

 

Loren's wineskin is pounced upon, and the bakerlet relenquishes it with a slight squawk. "..s'Benden," she states, beaming at the bronzer cheerfully. "There was some Tillek stuff, but I didn't know if you liked Tillek or not, so I got Benden." Because she's a nice little weyrmate, yes she is. Lis is accorded with a wary -- if not also worried -- sort of blink, 'ren's chubby frame swaying slightly. "Help Lis, R'avey." Sniff-sniff. "And tell'er to go take a nap." Lo's new solution for everything: naptime. Even if she is trying to direct the comment to Lis.

 

"Oh my." Sasha gets a stare from her blueriding clutchmate, Sora slowing slightly. "Uhm. D'you think we should do something, Gid?"

 

Branwyth's eyes whirl in a dazed fashion...What is wrong with her Sasha? She just doesn't seem the same....

 

Reiko peers in the direction of Kinecha's finger, eyes growing wider as the bluerider in question approaches. Then actually giggles at Sasha's comment. "I guess it would," is all she says.

 

Chanticoth's not doing anything. Now. Of course he couldn't do anything sneakily with Ilare watching. Now why's she here. Hiding by him? Oh dear. V'tor around?

 

Bannon walks in with great pride as he eyes about, searching for people ha may know, then eases up abit and presumes to relax and enjoy.

 

G'deon grins at Sora and shrugs.  "I'm sure she knows what she's doing though... I hardly think she needs more wine.  Do you think we should, uh, politely let her know?"

 

R'ave exhales, liberating the wineskin. "Alright," he mutters, battling to get the pewter leather back where it's /supposed/ to be. "I'll.. tell her that, Loren." R'a may oblige, but it may not get him anywhere. "We'll have that wine later," he promises, flicking a palm to smooth the material at his hip as he squares his shoulders and supports the greenrider's limp hands with his. Alright, she's not hanging -- now what?

 

V'tor is around, and Recounth, too, though the blue seems to be busily fussing with something irrelevant and pointless. And the rider is thorougly...drunkified. So he may be seeking, but he's not sure what, trying to look "appealing" though obviously blundering about. Flying Under the Influence? No, not him...

 

Ilare nods slightly. He's over /there/. He's PLAGUING her.  Or watching her at least.  Same thing, right?  And he's not going to play dragonic spin-the-bottle is he? **fear**

 

N'sync slides in next to Sasha quickly..."Of course its a good idea! Its lovely wine...it would be a shame to miss out on it....come on I'll pour you some more." Is that evil glinting in his eyes?

 

Tierza nods to Takovic and heads over to him, wine safely in hand.."Hey, you never came to look at my gardens!" She's not quite pouting, but. she worked hard on that maze...

 

Bailyn looks around, finally finding someone with a know of High Reaches. Walking up to Takovic, she ask, "Could you help me?" Bright Grin. Please help me!

 

Lis leans on R'ave a bit - a /lot/ - to get to her feet, grinning rather drunkenly at him. "I want a dance, Stems," she informs him throatily, unfocused eyes sparkling. "Then I'll take a nap. /Promise/," she states, solemenly, if just a little too loud, with a significant glance in Loren's direction.

 

Kinecha grins too, as she destinctly remembers how much the greenrider had hated her blue hair at the time. "Tha's great, Sasha," she calls out and turns back to the others. "What colors d'you like? Me, I actually like blue."

 

Sweet soprano vocals slide up the scale to hold a crystal teardrop note at the top of the scale, while beneath her the gitar plucks it's fast jib and Fennara pipes out something made especially to make peoples feet itch with the need to dance.  The high note is held for a handful of heartbeats before it falters a little and does a brisk downward fall to brush the bottom and sweep back to the middle.

 

Takovic looks up abruptly, adjusting his spectacles as he tries to identify who spoke first. To Tierza, he smiles slightly, sheepishly indeed, then stutters apologetically--and honestly--"I'm sorry, you know, very sorry. As it were, I, so to speak, forgot, you know, forgot..." Hoping Tierza won't be mad, he looks up at Bailyn now, just blinking a few times and offering a small, "So to speak, what do you need?"

 

Chanticoth glances over to V'tor, growls softly and then proceeds to ignore the blue rider. He's here. And Chanti will squish any mean blue riders that presume to annoy his Ilare. Tail is raised threateningly to prove the point.

 

Dancing! Now that's a great idea. Tie looks about for a suitable partner to harrass, um ask for a dance. She just wnats to dancce, is that so much to ask anyone?

 

Bannon goes home.

 

Bailyn grins. "Could you please tell me how far away this is from Ista?" She blushes slightly at how funny she might sound. "I came with a Dragon Rider, who was at Ista and was taking people, but I don't know how far away I really am..."

 

Colors? "Colors of what?" Reiko looks confused. She takes another sip. "In general? Blue's nice." With a grin, she points to her tunic. "I like it fine."

 

Loren pauses, expression more than a bit miffed and visibly regretful. Lo had to go be all.. helpful-esque, didn't she? "Yes, Lis, that's a good idea. Have a dance, and then go take a nap." And then she'll just go steal her weyrmate back and be a happy camper. "I wanna dance, too, later, if you don't mind, R'avey?" A vague beam, and then she contents herself with emptying the 'skin.

 

G'deon saunters over to Sasha and her... escort.  "Uh, hi you two.  How's it going?" he asks, not at all upset at having butted into their conversation.  "Enjoying yourselves?"

 

V'tor, however, takes one second of not being ignored to be a second of getting attention. Beaming fumishly at the brown, he doesn't at all acknowledge the chance of being flattenicated.

 

Kinecha nods, "yeah, just colors in general," she says grinning. If you'd asked her what color dragons she liked, she'd most likely have said brown, not blue.

 

Tierza eyes G'deon again.. he's not bad.. maybe he will dance? He doesn't look to be the shy type at all, either.

 

R'ave smirks unevenly, lamenting the realization that only taffetta and sisal seperate his personal boundries from Lis'. "If you promise," he murmurs, the wineless contract made, a testiment that even when sober, the bronzer doesn't always think clearly. "Of course, Loren," he calls over the greenrider's shoulder, arms absently folding around her waist.

 

Takovic blinks at Bailyn again, now brushing his bangs back from across his forehead. "You know, it's very far, so to speak, very very far."

 

Whimper.  Get a CLUE, V'tor.  Don't make Ilare and Chanticoth teach you a lesson in accepting No for an answer.  For one, both'd enjoy it just a liiiiittle too much. yup.

 

Sasha glances up from the impossibly large glass of wine that has been poured for her and sighs. "Oh Hey Gid! Isn't this a nice party! N'sync has been ever so friendly....." she sways a little bit,a tad unsteady on her feet now. "

 

Falcone wanders on in from the lower meadows.

 

Bailyn frowns, eyes getting large. "Oh.Am I in trouble now!" She hits her head, "Evan is going to /kill/ me.."

 

Falcone walks in, glancing about, curiously.

 

Reiko chuckles. "Yeah, blue's just fine." She goes to take another sip from her wineglass, frowning to find it empty. "Hang on, Kinecha. I'm gonna get another... you want more ale?"

 

Lis manages to sling her arms around R'ave's neck without poking him in any orfice, entirely happy with those arms around her waist, whoever's they are. "Now, R'ave," Hey, look - it's the first time she hasn't called him 'Stems'. "I've got a proposition for you." Somehow, this is stated with utter serious, no leers or nothin', despite the lack of enunciation and general nasal slur.

 

The pluckity voice of the gitar begins to lapse into chords, until it gives one last one and falls silent, leaving the music to Delilah and her voice, the drum, and Fennara and her pipes.  The pipes string of sound twines up the scale like a vine on a pole, swirling up to the top where it trills delicatly.  The soprano vocal swirls in a dizzying twirl to fall right under the trill, where it fades away.  The trill is held a breath longer and then is abruptly cut off.  One last thump of the drums and the music is gone...for this song at least.

 

G'deon frowns suddenly at the greenrider, then glances at N'sync.  "Um... yes, it's been a nice party, Sasha.  Good thing it's winding down now, right?" For some of us anyway.  He hesitates from a brief moment, then looks at her again.  "Say... how much wine have you had tonight?" he asks softly, a calculating look given N'sync.  "I'd hate to see you get sick... or anything else like that... that you wouldn't want."

 

V'tor honestly at this point doesn't know WHO he's botherating--and he wouldn't even consider it botherating. He's just...being V'tor. Which deserves its own lesson...

 

Fennara packs her pipes into her carry sack and waving, with a slight frown to her friend Sasha, who is looking a little worse for wear, shrugs and makes her way out of the meadows and back to the weyr.

 

Kinecha smiles broadly at the offering, "please, Reiko, that'd be great," she says and hands the woman her mug. Then she slumbs down on the grass, as her knees seem to have stopped working very well.

 

Fennara heads back down the trail towards the weyr.

 

Loren just peers after the pair, beaming swoonily R'ave-wards with the promise of a dance and toddling Sasha-wards for no apparent reason as she convinces herself, somewhow, that Lis is a safe person. A vague beam towards no one in particular, and then she sips at her wine again, still toddling. Randomly. Because.. that's just what she's doing.

 

Elehu smiles at Reiko and holds out a hand.  "Here, I could get a refill for you.  I need once myself..." she offers.

 

Ilare tries ignoring the Blue Rider.  Mostly because he doesn't deserve ANY of her attention.  Applause is given the harpers, pleasure at the lovely music produced evident in her smile.  For as long as that smile remains at least. 

 

Reiko takes mug and glass and turns toward the table, nearly running right into Elehu. "Hey, thanks," she says, handing Kinecha's mug to the healer and starting off more or less steadily in the directon of the table.

 

Takovic's expression begins to be less attentive again, generally focused, though, in the direction of the Harpers. Good that he's not got his project unrolled now. They might notice, and what then?

 

Marianne goes home.

 

R'ave tilts his head slightly, spreading his palms carefully against the swale of her lower back in attempt to steady her without being accused of groping. Good touch, bad touch. Yeah. "Ah.. a proposition, eh?" he repeats needlessly, a brow risen before a nervous glance slants at Loren, returning to Lis as pink blooms in his cheeks. "Alright, what sort of proposition?"

 

Elehu's smile widens slightly as she walks along after Reiko, quickly getting a glass of wine and a refill of the ale for Kinecha.  "Lovely music tonight, isn't it?" she asks after returning to the guard, handing her the mug.  "What was that about colors earlier?" she then adds with an amused grin.

 

Tierza turns to Takovic and smiles.. watching his face glow witht he music. "Tak, why aren't you a harper? It's obvious you love music."

 

"Business proposition," Lis explains secretively, her voice hushed as she leans in closer to R'ave. "Alright. I want your dress. And those boots. So, I'm thinking, I'm hearin about you wanting to be tapped - am I right?" Wing assignments for a wardrobe? Hey, stranger things have happened...

 

Falcone walks around, smiling and random people who happen to look at her.

 

Reiko returns with her filled wineglass, and a wineskin. Her glass must have a hole in it, since it's always empty, and why walk if you don't have to. She sits down on the grass near Kinecha and Elehu. "Nice music," she echoes, grinning at the healer. "Kinecha wanted t'know what colors we liked. I like blue."

 

The housekeeper arrives to cart Bailyn off to bed.

 

Kinecha shrug, leaning her elbows on her drawup knees as she looks up at the healer, and gives her a smile. "We were just discussing the pranks that were pulled when the new riders where still candidates. And I remembered that Sasha's hair had been dyed blue once..." She reaches up and takes the mug with a nod of 'thank you'.

 

Loren just beams towards R'ave, content with toddling around and drinking as she waits for Lis to finish her dance. A few more beams towards random-folks, and then she pauses near a few random 'brats, involving herself in conversations about foodstuffs in return for a creampuff. Food. Yum.

 

Tierza drinks deeply of ehr wine and waits, eyes wide and not missing a thing.. just taking it all in.. Hope that greenrider gets what she wants.. the one draped all over the other one. Looks.. 'interesting', anyway.

 

Elehu nods slowly and grins at the other two.  "Yes, I was actually here for that," she replies with a soft laugh.  "Not a bad color really, though I would have gone for green shade.  Not that I'd color my hair."  On purpose that is.  While sober.  She settles herself on the ground beside them and leans back, watching the dancing as she idly sips at her wine.

 

N'sync looks with some annoyance at the Bronzerider and then back at his prey "Sasha's not sick, are you honey....just having a really good time."

 

"They thought did cross my mind," R'ave mumbles, shaking his head and simply /looking/ at the greenrider, miscolored brown askew. "... my clothes for wing appointment?" How terribly venerable. "Do you want them now?" Then again, R'ave never -was- very dignified.

 

Reiko giggles. Green hair. That's kind of funny. Another sip of her wine... okay, a swig. "I don't think I /could/ dye my hair," she remarks. What can you do with black?

 

Lis simply shakes her head at R'ave, smirking at his wonderful offer. "As much as I'd enjoy that, I think the /rest/ of the party would rather you didn't. So, I'll get a knot from Tai, and I'll drop by and hand it over for the boots. 'Gradulations." Slurring drunkenly, merrily, she gives the bronzer a surreptitious, suffocating hug.

 

Kinecha might consider coloring her hair. Right at this moment, while she was drunk. "Maybe a nice black," she mumbles. A total switch from the stark white of what she has now. She takes a good long sip of her ale, and looks up at the dancers.

 

G'deon smiles politely to N'sync and takes a step back.  After all, it's really none of his business.  And the wine is running out.  "Alright, I trust you N'sync."  Right...  "I'll just... leave you two alone then."  He quickly turns, heading for the farthest edge of the dwindling crowd, and the nearest wine table as the chance may be.  He does glance back at the group of Harpers however, a considering glance at that...

 

A simple fast waltz is being played, a gitars sound jumps through the crowd while the lilting sound of a flute flies around.

 

Tierza watches G'deon move away from anyone and makes her small move over to him.. "Hello... My name is Tierza. But I go by Tie, mostly."

 

Sasha looks over to Branwyth who is gazing at her with a concerned expression. "Maybe I should go home now...."she looks suddenly very tired. Staggering a little she allows N'sync to help her over to where Branwyth is preparing to fly.

 

Falcone begins to hum softly to the music, her voice happy and sweet. She grins quietly.

 

Reiko takes a good look at Kinecha through narrowed eyes, trying to imagine the guard with black hair. "Nah," she says finally. "Wouldn't suit you." Then giggles again, apparently at the mental picture, and takes another drink.

 

Takovic leans forward, elbows resting on knees and chin resting in the cupped palms of his hands. His grey eyes stare ahead rather unfocused; one who knows him could deduce he's just concentrating on the music. So much that his own project, rolled up, lies untended to beside him.

 

Ilare is hidden, well.. almost, by her dragon's head, but the two seem at a loss - V'tor is still stumbling in his.. well.. politically incorrect, drunken fashion towards them. Hmm... Think anyone would mind if they hit over the head with a bottle?  It seems though as if the brown pair won't get a chance, as V'tor slips on the very bottle that had caught Chanticoth's attention earlier. Hmm.  Well, what do you know?

 

R'ave squeaks now, happy enough with the transaction -- though even when sated, he still appreciates the value of oxygen. "Thanks, Lis," he manages, munificently patting at the greenrider's back. "Um. R'ave can't breath," the bronzer quips after a moment, voice small.

 

Elehu smiles softly, tipping back the rest of the wine with a satisfied sigh.  "Now /that/ was good wine," she muses to herself quietly, setting the glass down safely beside her.  "Not that I'd know at this point," she then mutters, a sudden look of irritation at herself shadowing her face.  "I don't know, Necha," she then replies with a soft giggle.  "It's up to you though."  She begins hauling herself to her feet, none too steadily.

 

Loren pauses with the hug, blinking once and mumbling something under her breath before toddling, once more, food-wards. Because she wants food, and all that sort of thing, you know? Yeah. Food. Toddle-toddle. A bit less soberly than she was doing in the first place. Wine's like that, and all. You know?

 

"You don't think so?" Kinecha says, turning to Reiko. Grinning, she takes another good sip of her ale, "what color d'you think would then?" The question goes out to both of them. A challenge perhaps?

 

Ilare carefully sidesteps the fallen blue rider, before not quite running towards the others. And rejoices in the fact V'tor isn't following. And that Chan will bap him if he tries. Mwaahahah.

 

Elehu just grins and shrugs to the guard.  "Well... I kind of like it the way it is..."

 

G'deon pauses in the act of taking a sip from his glass as Tierza walks up to him.  He smiles softly and nods.  "G'deon, rider of bronze Nylanth," he replies quietly, eyes darting to a small sort of commotion over where the dragons have assembled.  "Um... what brings you to Ista?"

 

"Oh, right. Breathing tends to keep you alive, and we like our wingriders living," observes Lis toughtfully, letting R'ave go and presumably breathe. "See, Loren?" she calls over at the imbibing girl. "I brought him back, all safe and sound." No teeth marks, even. Grinning lopsidedly, she starts to move away, giving the bronzerider a pat on the back - just, you know, below the waist.

 

Reiko takes another good look at Kinecha. "Prolly orange," she muses, her words slurring a bit. "Yeah." She seems satisfied with orange, and nods emphatically as if to prove the point.

 

Sasha waves to her friends, hardly noticing if anyone is waving back and then, climbs onto Bran's back. N'sync quickly mounts Backstreeth.

 

You leap up to grab Branwyth's straps, and pull yourself up, swinging your leg astride the misty green neckridges.

 

G'deon turns to wave to Sasha and N'sync as they depart for the night... together.  Or at the same time anyway.

 

Tierza says, "Well met, dragonrider, I was looking for Tatia or Cayl but I guess they left the party already. Do you know if either will back?"

 

"Orange? Nah, I don't like orange," Kinecha says, so maybe she's not that brave after all. "And I don't think Tafne'd be very happy if I showed up with orange hair..." But she salutes Reiko for making a brave attempt at a suggestion. A salute that almost hits her eye.

 

The music picks up speed, the tune swinging through the crowd.  A drummer makes the beat slightly more erratic, and the flute sends it's voice around, through peoples ears and flitting out.

 

Takovic continues just sitting and staring, motionless except for his fingers tapping against the side of his cheek, in rhythm with the Harpers' tune.

 

G'deon shakes his head to Tierza slowly.  "No, I'm afraid I don't know where they went, or when they'll be back," he replies quietly, wine studied idly in his glass before he glances back up.

 

Backstreeth lunches into the air and steadily keeps pace with Branwyth as she carries her lifemate home to their weyr.

 

 

Drudges the next morning saw Sasha dismiss N'Sync from her weyr...without the trace of a hangover, or any kind of fond emotion.....Could she have feigned her drunkeness...just to serve a purpose?

 

Sasha - Dragonrider of Pern

A Selection of Logs from Sasha's Past