Auditorium

Designed specifically for performances, musicals, and plays of all sorts and types, the acoustics of the room are amazing, allowing even those sitting in the far back to hear speakers on the stage.  Benches which lined the floor have been rearranged to line walls and also on the stage.  A large open space at the base of the stage is for the orchestra to play for the dancing and the entertainment.  Framed by the positioning of the orchestras chairs is a Flag of Fort Weyr.  In pride of place inthe room.  The rest of the room has been hung with the colours of Fort Weyr and Harper Hall. Banners lining the walls and the stage.

Two large contraptions hang from the ceiling, always kept with fresh glows to illuminate the room.  Baskets also line the walls, throwing more light in the darker hours.  Large glass windows on the eastern side allow a view into the busy courtyard.

The large organ has also been drapped with Fort Hold colours, hiding the pipes and the other parts of the contraption.  Flowers have been arranged in a vase and placed in front of it on the organ's bench.

 

On the wall is a shelf which has been tied, another bunch of flowers now rests on it.  It seems an old placement for a shelf as it would seem that a glow shelf would be of more use next to the entrance door.  Revealed by the organ being moved, is a light pieces of wood, a perfect square, highlighted by the darkness of the surrounding wood.  Jammed into the patch is two broken pieces of metal, curving up but broken so they do not meet in the middle.  To try and ensure that no one else gets hurt, a table has been placed to ensure people walk around the area.  Over this has been drapped Harper Hall colours and flowers have been arranged on top.

You see Linda and Pheniox here.

Caitlin, Jenar, Arawn, R'kan, Kishairyn, V'len, Aryion, V'zan, Shylo, Maeko, P'tala, Liathano, Anki, Aouda, Atsuro, Gabriela, Andrei, Tora, and Maxwell are here.

Obvious exits:

Entry Hall

 

Taire

Shadow swathed is she, this svelte girl is but a wraith in form with her sinewy build and dusky features. A wealth of russet-stoked seal descends to just beyond her slim shoulders, tiny plaits tinkling with beads of silver and copper upon their ends to grant sparkle to her depths. Autumn's fallen beauty: sundered golds, jaded greens, and lost browns collect to pool in the irises of her feline-lilted eyes, rimmed with dark lashes and set well above dimpled cheeks. A hint of height to her older years is given testament to with how tall she has reached while still so young, a sinewy sylph by all accounts with muscles borne of an active life and a silent grace not yet tamed.

Adorning her left ear is a single earring of copper, a hoop of such indolent pride that the girl wears it with equal brashness.

Jet and sienna wind and twine about in a twisted dance, caressed by chaste alabaster. And yet, it is nothing more than the knot of a Fortian Candidate.

Daring shimmers of notice-me crimson cascades over this girl's svelte form, bland in its straight lines from bodice to floor-length dress. Simplicity rules with its tube-like lines, but a pair of finger-thin straps banding over her shoulders. A wrap of the same sisal wraps over her shoulders to drape with a shawl-like drapery. Going beyond first appearances, frayed threads dance with an unintentional fringe along the bottom of the dress while a hemline's pucker with uneven stitches with obvious testament to hasty creation. But its sisal!

Taire looks to be in her late teens.

She is awake and looks alert.

You are 15 turns old.

 

R'kan clasps a hand to his chest, touching the lace and bobbing his head up and down like the little sycophant he isn't. Taking the wine and sipping, testing, he says, "Oh, yes. It must be tough trying to resist what you can't have. Can you imagine--all this time, the Senior Weyrwoman drawn to you like..." VTOLs to the midden? "bronze dragonets to perfect lifemates, and still reining herself back? Your standards should be high... That's a difficult reputation to live with. You do so well at it, too." Swoon. "Thank you. I try... Listening to women is always a good habit."

 

V'zan's jaw clenches tightly for a moment; it takes concentration and an extreme act of will to relax the muscles enough for words to escape the man's mouth. "Are you implying..."  He barks a sour laugh.  "Working beside you is one thing, lass, but sleeping beside you is in an entirely different category. Don't mistake my willingness to do one for a desire to do the other."  Eyes are firmly focused on P'tala's in an intense stare... or perhaps an attempt to not undermine his statement by admiring her *ahem* clothing.

 

Kishairyn flashes a jaunty salute to Liathano.  "Quite a shindig, in'it?" she inquires with an amused grin.  She snorts at Arawn's words.  "Next thing you know, he'll do it quite literally, and wander out with V'len in his arms," she predicts with a shake of her head ... and then splutters with laughter at the tune the musicians have picked up.  "Oh, that's *too* appropriate ..."  She peers quizzically from Gaby to R'kan as she gets her wind back in a few gasps.  Big ones.  "But he's not even in a dress right now," she points out, whistling along with the tune as she rolls her eyes at Aryion.  She flashes a smirk in Arawn's direction.  "Honestly, this is the only song like that I know."

 

Aouda stumbles as she lifts her feet a bit too high...looking like a runner trying to pull her feet out of thick mud in an effort to appear "lively".  She grunts irritably, as while it's perfectly okay to make a fool of herself when she wants to...when she actually wants to try something, it's a completely different story.  Sigh.  Right, move with the music.  A bit clumsily, she adjusts her movements to follow Atsuros, her face fixed in a grimace of deep concentration.  As her father used to say, she looked a bit like a "Mentally Disturbed Vegetable".  No, she doesn't know what that means either.

 

The lead fiddler is still standing, his body dipping with the music, first fast and then slow, in and out the music goes.  The other musicians rise to the challenge weaving in and out of the pace that the fiddle has set.

 

Arawn stifles a smirk, and nods towards Kishairyn, "Uh-huh."  The Weaver's light tenor voice is amused, before he glances quizzically towards both bronze riders, "You just might be right."  His gaze focusses on Gabriela, then, and he asks her, "How're you liking being a candidate?  All the chores annoying, or have you grown  used to them?"

Maxwell leads Tora out to the dance floor, then places one of his hands on her waist and the other clasping her hand. He puts her hand on his shoulder, then begins to move in a simple waltz, slowly at first so she can get the hang of it. Once her feet seem to be placed in the right spots, he speeds it up again. Smiling, he murmurs in her ear. "You're a natural at this.....lucky. I wish dancing would have come this easy for me." He sends a wink and a grin her way, partly admiring and partly amused.

 

P'tala eyes the reaction from the corner of her eye and smirks--ooh, made the Weyrleader all hot 'n bothered. Perching her elbow on the opposite hand, she idly rubs a lip with her fingertips and lets innocence drown into her eyes. "As I recall, you weren't beside me, or sleeping, all that much," she quips, then holds her tongue. No one nearby need know who, exactly, was on top. "Though whatever made you think that I was implying anything? I /do/ understand that prowess in bed is hardly determined by a mating flight."

 

Taire slips into the room, plucking at the odd thread that seems to have attatched itself to her. She is fashionably late? Sure. Sure. That'll work. We won't call it dithering at the Weyr and taking up with a last-minute rider attendee. Fingers yank through her hair, it  in the exactly same state as usual -she simply had not the time to even attend to such a frivolty. Lips purse as face squinches up, mostly for the express purpose to show her disdane at all the people, noise,and general chaos. Bleh.

 

Caitlin's foot taps with the tune and she smiles at Andrei "Harper tell me?" she says "you like that one?"  She gestures at a drudge who knowing what the MasterHarper wants returns with a glass of wine and Caitlin sips at it gratefully "

 

Maeko mutters with an amused look on her face as she wanders the crowd yet again, pausing just past the doors as she considers heading out to secure a few more bits of leftover food- priorities, priorities. Pausing by various conversations, she continues to drift- none seem to hold her interest. Attention Deficit, anyone? Taire is spotted, and she offers a quick wave to a fellow candidate, before slipping into a chair near the back. She can wait for a.. *cough* appropriate time to ensue her next chaos. Plots, plots, plots stew within her mind.. most, if not all, ending in the thought of a rewarding pastry.

 

Menacion steps through the double doors into the auditorium.

 

Gabriela blinks toward Kishairyn, shaking her head, face still a light crimson-- mainly because she's finally realizing what all the words to this sailor song mean. "Just as long as they don't share in the morning," she replies quickly before laughing and nodding. "Aw, that's too bad. He does look nice in skirts," she replies with a wink. "And suuuure it is, Kish. I know how your mind works... You probably studied up on every sailor song that includes lifting 'sails.'" She grins toward Arawn, shrugging. "I'm used to chores, so it doesn't bother me. Then again, I'm used to them at my own pace and schedule. I've learned many new tasks here, so I'm thankful for that. It's been an interesting adventure." She nods toward his shoulder. "Weaver? How are things at your crafthall?" She never passes up the chance to hear the news of different areas. Seeing Taire, she grins at the candidate, gesturing toward the harpers with her head, eyes twinkling. It's the Taire song.

 

Shylo is gracefull, although breaking into giggles during most of the twirls. The music quickens its beat, her feet keeping in time.   The groan is noted..."Don't you like this song?"  But the question is left to the music. Taking a bit of strength into her own part of the dance, she keeps in nearly perfect time.  Quite good for a healer, eh?  But perhaps the constant beats from the Harper heard during her studies have trained her subconciously.  At any rate, she seems to be enjoying herself thoroughly. 

 

V'len nods agreeably. "Ah, but I'm used to it. I've had practice, as no doubt you have as well. Men of our stature, well, we just have to get used to the whispers behind our backs. I've learned to pay it no mind and have come to learn that the barbs and insults that sometimes get thrown my way are merely the result of jealousy. It's perfectly understandable, and really, it's the only way to explain it, too." He takes another deep draught of wine, then blinks at R'kan's latest revelation. "/You/ talk to /women/?" He blinks, full of new admiration. "You know...that's something I've always wanted to practice more... but it seems that there's not so many woman willing to practice with me. They tell you to 'be yourself', but for some reason, with me, that just doesn't seem to work." He's clearly looking for suggestions. V'len comes to R'kan for help in ... picking up women?

 

Andrei snaps out of his trance of music listening to hear the MasterHarper call his name.  "Yes, ma'am.  It's always been my favorite ballad.  While as short as it is, it contains a lot of truths and just... it's a great song."  He smiles meekly, and chuckles.

 

Tora sighs in relief.  Dancing isn't that hard, she was excpecting something much more difficult.  She hasn't even stepped on Max's toes, though she did get one of her own.  "Thanks," she says softly back.  This isn't has bad as the girl thought it would be.  She's actualy finding it rather enjoyable. Tora quickly catches onto the fast paced melody, letting Max lead her.

 

Atsuro supresses a laugh at Aouda's attempts; amusement will not help the learning experience. This, my dear, is first-hand knowledge. "Try to relax a bit," He offers gently, moving fast and slow as the music shifts. "Just.. have fun." That's what it's all about, after all. Except.. he's not paying attention, and stumbles over his own feet, catching himself short with a laugh. "And you're not the only one with coordination problems, either."

 

R'kan runs a hand professionally through his hair, grinning smiles majestically. "It /is/ difficult being a bronzerider, having a coveted and powerful dragon, /and/ being beautiful, isn't it? There are so many ill-meaning feelings that can just ruin the mood when envy gets in the way of personal glamour. Then again," he sighs, "I can't blame people for being jealous of you. After all, you're so..." Think, R'kan, think. "V'len, rider of Yevgeth." By definition, by no one has to comment. "I try to talk to as many women as possible. They have an acute fashion sense... And as long as you don't let on that you /know/ you're prettier than them, they tend to have a wealth of information."

 

Kishairyn's lips tremble in a pout.  "You don't believe me?  I'm hurt."  A hand clasps to her heart to emphasize this declaration.  "We'll have to see.  I wouldn't lay marks on it, but ..." she trails off, simply watching the pair for a moment.  She clears her throat loudly.  "Ahem!  My mind is perfectly pristine, Gabriela, and I must say, I resent the implication that it might be otherwise."  She lofts her nose into the air for emphasis.  She smirks as she spots Taire and jerks her head towards the musicians.  Listen to that!

 

V'zan is not so weak-willed as to be distracted by such an obvious ploy. Thankfully.  "All concerns about prowess and proddiness aside, even if I had the inclination to attempt a relationship of any sort with you, which I don't, I would have neither the time nor the energy to tackle you currently.  As you know from firsthand experience and observation, my duties leave me with little time for myself or anyone else."  Yes, pity the poor bronzerider.  "Perhaps if I were more suited to the demands of the position, it would not tax me so greatly, but as things currently stand..."  He shrugs and sighs.

 

Aouda takes a deep breath and makes a feeble attempt to relax.  Silly as she may seem, Aouda is always tense without thinking about it.  Her expression softens and her movements become a bit smoother, but her eyes are still glaring fixedly at her feet...making sure they land in the right places and don't run over anything that isn't floor.  Sigh...

 

Aryion twirls Shylo around the floor, displaying a dancing grace that even he didn't know he had. He listens to the words for the first time, idly remembering a past conversation, before beaming down at the girl. "Oh no.. I do, don't get me wrong. Several friends and I had a conversation about this song a few weeks ago, thats all." Laughing to himself, he simply grins down at her, before twirling her around the floor again, throughly enjoying this dance.

 

Glass of wine nearly drained to the botton, Anki joins those clustered around the drinks table, eyeing the little grouping with much suppressed glee. "Evening, gentles all. Having a fun time?" She means this, of course, for the Prettiest Men on Pern. The smile lasts just long enough to be smothered into a glass of juice hastily swiped for just that purpose. It wouldn't do to laugh in their faces and she's so desperately laughing inside.

 

Menacion strolls in, wearing his guard uniform and looking around curiously. Got delayed trying to get the wrinkles out of his uniform.  And shaving, too. A few fresh scabs on his face are testimony to his effort, leaving only the mustache and goatee untouched.  Now just to slip off unobtrusively to the side and watch for trou--oh, wait.  He's not here to guard.  Shoot.  Now what's he supposed to do?

 

Taire fidles at the doorway for a moment longer before a rather welcoming glance from Gaby sends a wash of relief through her body. She'd slump to the ground as well, only she pretty much well doesn't think that won't go over all that well. That and the stitches of her dress would probably split if she moves too much. And that would just frost the bubblie now, wouldn't it. Tongue dabs at parched lips as she meanders along her path this way and that, looking almost as though she has a serious case of packtail. "Uh... Yeah... Hi, guys."

 

Arawn smirks at Kishairyn, and murmurs ironically to her, "I don't, no."  He shakes his head, and then /blinks/ over towards R'kan and V'len, catching a few brief snatches of their conversation, "Faranth...will you look at that. That 'rider has V'len eating out of the palm of his hand..."  Wonder where else V'len will..urm, never mind.

Maxwell grins and nods. "'Tis nothing but the truth, Tor. Not many people get thanked for the truth." He replies. He takes another step in the waltz, then twirls Tora and dips the girl low before pulling her back up and placing his arm about her waist, drawing her so close their noses are about two inches from each other. He smiles at her and winks before resuming the waltzing.

 

Liathano moves towards the benches, finds an empty one and sits down. She watches Maxwell and Tora for a bit, grinning as he dips her, then turns her attention else where. Her ice blue eyes fall upon the pair near her when she hears the title 'Master Harper', but looks quickly away when she realizes she is staring. Though her curiousity has been struck, she maintains her ears and eyes carefully away from the two, not wanting to spy.

 

Gabriela snickers toward Kishairyn, a smirk curving her lips. "And I'm the son of a watchwher," she murmurs with a wink. "I swear, I never saw things as... other things... till I met you all, Kisha, and now I'm corrupted for life." Actually, she still doesn't get most of the jokes, but she won't admit that. She flashes a grin toward Aryion, chuckling softly. Another glance goes toward the attire of those around her and then to her own, but she passes that with a shrug. "How are you faring, Taire?" she asks the candidate with a smile. "We suggested a song just for you." Assuming Arawn doesn't wish to talk of his hall, she just nods lightly before sending a wave toward Menacion.

 

Cera steps through the double doors into the auditorium.

 

Kishairyn exhales a sigh and gives Arawn what might, in other circumstances and on a less cherubic face, have been taken for a baleful look.  "I never get enough credit," she murmurs woefully.  She shakes her head.  "Amazing.  Maybe I need to take tips from how to handle men from that one."  She grins at Taire.  "Welcome to the festivities," she greets.  "What do you think we should ask for for an encore, folks?"  She tilts an imaginary hat to Gabriela.  "Thank you," she says.  "I'll help you interpret anything else you might wish, on my honor."  Chuckling to herself, she waves towards the arriving Menace.  Step into our parlour ... trying to catch Anki's eye, she merely jerks her head towards the males and mouths, "priceless ..."

 

The music continues, instead of pausing between songs it segues into the next one, this time slower, a song of yearning and want, of eagneress and sadness. The fiddles and gitars take up the lament, their sorrowful sounds drifting through the crowds as the bass instruments echo the low notes, the deep mournful tones of regret.

 

Caitlin starts and eyes the orchestra and shakes her head "shards why are they playing that tune."  She shakes her head and clears her throat, "Perhaps it is time to move onto the entertainment, be Rayne around anywhere?" she asks idly sipping at her wine.

 

P'tala smiles, nibbling her fingertip around her sudden giggle. "All that energy I remember drained?" she gasps, eyes opening to a width that could only be labeled 'mocking'. A brief concern flits across her face, however, and the woman looks upwards, aiming for eye contact as lips purse. "If the stress really is that bad, V'zan, remember that there are two Weyrseconds beneath you who are supposed to take a substantial amount of work themselves." Though they may not want to at the moment... Well, there's always M'lan left. "I think you've done marvelously," she adds with a proud grin. "Don't worry about whether or not you're suited to it. It's suited to you." There--see? She's nice.

 

Atsuro chuckles again, snapping his fingers near his ear to raise Aouda's attention. "And don't worry so much about your feet- If you can maneuver a large crowd without stepping on any toes, you can dance without stepping on any toes. Unless you get nervous," Which she could very well be. His energetic dance is no longer appropriate for this next song, and he slows, and stops. With a wink, he bows again, rather comically. "Enough torture for you tonight?"

 

Rayna steps through the double doors into the auditorium.

 

Actually, Arawn was merely briefly distracted by the ... rather amusing going ons across the room.  He turns to Gabriela and grins, "It's doing well, though the hall was surprised at some of the folks who were Searched..."  He trails off, and looks towards Kishairyn, "No, I think I give you quite a bit of credit, and you well know it."  With this statement, and a smile, he takes a slow sip from his drink, stretching briefly, and shakes his head, "That's still amusing."

 

Shylo grins, tilting her head into yet another twirl.  The floor begins to continuously spin... oh no... not good.  Firmer grasps are clutched on Aryion to keep her from loosing balance, but it isn't working.  Her feet are soon finding themselves misplaced upon the moving floor.  "I'm getting dizzy.. this isn't good.." Absently this is remarked to her partner, and she curses the spinning walls and dancers.  Well good, the song has slowed.  Perhaps the twirling will cease, and maybe the dancing between the two will become calmer. 

 

Tora gasps slightly as Maxwell dips her.  She wasn't expecting that...  She rather enjoyed it though.  In fact, she's enjoying this whole dance.  Tora grins as the toon changes.  Good, a slow song, she may be a natural but dancing isn't easy.  Especialy trying to keep up with the pace Max was setting.

 

V'len nods sagely. "So the trick is to act ... humble?" He says this as though it's a revelation. An entirely new concept. A dawn of new thought... could it be? "Naw... it never worked for me. They all saw right through it." V'len shrugs helplessly. What's a fabulous  bronzerider to do? "I just think it's our burden to bear. And you? What about you? I'm very sorry to say, I know nothing about your dragon. Of course Yevgeth is one of a kind, but I suspect that a dragon that would chose you as a lifemate would be especially discriminating. He must have traits to recommend him." Whoa. Liked that professional hair move. V'len attempts a similar move, glancing over to see if the affect was as stunning in a nearby mirror. Well, maybe the girls won't talk to him, but R'kan will... and he seems to have a wealth of information as well. Quite a find.

 

Rayna stides in, looking much calmer than she had before. "Master when should I start my song? Dancing has been going on for a long time," she asks, finally fishing her gitar from its place.

 

Aouda grins, a bit amused at the fact that, for once, Atty has gained the upper hand.  "Yes, I believe so." she admits, forming a lop-sided grin.  "Perhaps we can give this another go at the upcoming Barn Dance?" Grin.  "But if I do, you have to promise to do the Demented Wherry dance with me."  Well...not really. But wouldn't it be funny?  Surely they'd win first place in the dancing contest with /that/.

 

Taire smirks slightly in Gaby's direction, "Well, I didn't fall off the dragon. So, I suppose I'm faring well so far." She stand with legs splayed somewhat, not exactly the best posture for a femme in a dress to provide, but you didn't see her with legs bared to the world upon that blue.... just getting on that dragon was a feat to be commended. "Aye... festivities." Fardling well amazing. And such a sharding good time for all. She crains her neck about, looking for the drinks and in a none to quiet voice, "Where's the wine?"

 

Andrei looks over at the MasterHarper, and then around the room.  "Rayna?  Ooh! There she is!"  He looks at Rayna, then back at the MasterHarper.  He's wanted to hear this song since he well... heard about it.  "Knock 'em dead, Rayna. You'll do perfect!"  Giving words of encouragement is good, right?  Right.

 

Cera slips in through the doors, or tries to.  However, it seems Cera has the good time to slip in after Rayna announced herself.  With a sheepish grin, and a hint of a blush, Cera slides across the wall, in the direction of the klah pots.  There have -GOT- to be some, somewhere... right?

 

Aryion is reluctant to end this dance, but, the music stops and he bows politely. "Thank you for the dances Shylo, I'm sorry if I got a little carried away there, they were alot of fun." He leads her over to a chair to rest and recover. "Here, sit and rest, I did get carried away there at the end. If you will excuse me, I need to talk to a few people. He smiles at her before departing to head over toward where the candidate girls are all clustered around the wall. When he approaches them, he bows gracefully before looking up at Taire, "May I have this dance Taire dear?"

 

Caitlin smiles at Rayna and stands "Let me see, this song is almost done."  She crosses in front of the orchestra, the soulful song going its way and she bows, waiting for silence and then begins her speech "Thank you all for coming to the party, I hope you are enjoying yourself as much as I am, feel free to help yourself to refreshments.  While the orchestra rests their weary hands and you your weary feet, perhaps you would like to hear a song especially composed in honour of the clutch soon to hatch at Fort Wery?"  She pauses to see if people do sit down and she gestures at Rayna to take her place, to play the song.

 

Menacion returns the waves, drifting towards the familiar people.  R'kan might be a friend, but he's a little too chummy with V'len at the moment.  And that pretty much leaves his fellow candidates.  "Hello people..."  He directs at Kish and Gaby.  "Interpret?  Someone being incomprehensible?"  Some old geezer speaking in a mumble? 

 

Maeko yawns as she leans back in her seat, settling in comfortably to watch- all evil plots have long since left her mind, and she's satisfied to simply sit and watch the proceedings. A little giggle escapes as she gives glance to check up on Shylo and Aryion- whoops, Shy seems to be.. getting a bit dizzy; and the pair have seperated as well. She waves to Shylo to catch her attention, and motions her over. "I'm lonely!" She calls with a grin, bobbing her head. "Come join me!"

 

Gabriela grins toward Kishairyn, shaking her head. "I'll probably need your services more," she replies before pausing, furrowing her forehead, and then turning toward the former messenger with a meek smile. "Actually, there was this joke someone was telling in the caverns the other day... and everyone was laughing... but it made no sense. I'll... um.. ask you about it later, though." She's too wimpy to mention things here. She raises an eyebrow to Arawn, nodding. "Most are, I'm sure. Crafters are valuable, but there are enough folks on Pern to spare a few for the weyrs, I think." Poor Gabriela doesn't realize this is supposed to be a fun event where you don't talk about politics. Grinning toward Taire, she chuckels slightly. "Faranth, I would hope not. And I believe the wine is there..." She gestures to a few feet away, where Anki seems to be protecting the refreshment table. She waves again, this time toward Cera, before turning attentive eyes to the MasterHarper, smiling softly. "How nice..." She shrugs toward Menacion, chuckling. "Not really..."

 

V'zan rewards P'tala's flattery with another scowl. "Tis my duty, so it is only fair that I shoulder the worst of the burden, though I must admit that without the two of you, I'd have been crushed beneath the weight long ago."  One hand straightens the primrose behind his ear before moving further back to massage a sore neck.  "I may be doing an adequate job, but it leaves me time for little else.  A brief respite here, half a day there...  That is all I get to myself.  And each moment away heralds even more work once I return to my tasks."  A faint, but genuine, smile briefly graces his lips.  "I'm pretty sure I've forgotten how to be intimate outside of mating flights."

 

Girl strums her guitar once, then tunes it quietly, before looking up. "This is a song I wrote after Master Caitlin brought us to see the eggs a few sevendays ago. I haven't named it yet." She then begins strumming the opening cords and opens her mouth to sing in her soft alto voice:

 

The earthly queen guards her brood,

     A daddy bronze stays nearby

          A protective mood

               Is in the air.

 

One egg of glory, the dark warrior of the clutch,

Another tells the story of what shall come.

One holds a haunting of tragic sorrow,

A fourth the vision of a lake, mythical shadows that shall never be seen.

 

The golden mother flicks a tongue

     One is rolled, buried deeper in sand.

          A mother's song is sung.

               The gold croons to her unborn.

 

An egg of fortune sits with brilliance,

Another the pale tear of an unknown, shadowed in mist.

One sits by itself, a beacon of golden light,

Another with ideas unknown, dark shadows swirling its surface.

 

The mother bugles, who enters there?

     A form waves and comforts.

          Her rider is once again here,

               And with a sigh gold goes back to her task.

 

Standing tall as a hold is one egg,

Another the dark forests unexplored.

Another the image of a man, hidden in its design.

One a red apple, red the joys of life hidden on it.

 

Father croons,

     Mother turns another egg.

         Bronzerider swoons,

               From the heat that brings a life with no mate to an end.

 

An egg of sadness sits with the rest,

Its sibling, one of ill fated love beside.

Another of pure heart guards the other two from invading eyes

The fourth in this group darkness hiding and waiting amid light.

 

The earthen queen, done with the rest

     Goes to adore the one untouched

          And perhaps the best?

               The golden queen nudges, the one left.

 

The last egg sits, amid the others

Yet something special

Inside its flower shell it offers

A golden queen

One who must face a difficult fate.

 

Mothering of this one done,

     Suyinth begins again

          Going one by one

               Caring for each in turn

                    Until the day fate has arranged

                         Arrives.

 

Girl slowly fades out the last note, taking a deep breath as the song ends and she looks up at the crowd. "Well that's it. Anyone have a suggestion for a name?"

 

R'kan peers around nervously at V'len's attention on him--are any of his friends watching? What if he says something wrong? What if he looks... stupid? A light blush dances on his cheeks, and when he finally finds his tongue again, he forces it to form around the words he needs. "Oh, surely it can't be too hard. Just... compliment /them/, for a change. It works most of the time, even when they have strong personalities." V'len works as a perfect example. "Alas, you may be right." A blink and a pleased beam follow one right after the other, the bronzerider all too flattered to be inquired about, but his answer is clipped and simple, and might very well drive a rift between himself and the object of his shining blue eyes. "Maraith? Oh. He's... perfect." Simple and short, the response is exactly as the bronze would have liked, and the man silences to listen, then applaud to the singing. "That was lovely!" he calls out, cheering his approval.

 

Andrei just... stares at Rayna.  "Wow..." is all he can say.  Then he stands, and cheers his own approval.  "Beautiful Rayna!  Absolutely beautiful!"  A perfect song for the event!

 

Kishairyn wrinkles her nose delicately, then shakes her head and lapses into a smile.  "True," she concedes, "but as far as I'm concerned, Arawn, there's always room for improvement."  She winks, then shakes her head at Taire ... with an absent frown at her position.  "You know, if you stood like ..."  She bites her lip.  Not nosing.  "It is a good-looking dress, though."  She shakes her head.  "No," she answers Menace simply, "bawdy songs.  That's all."  She grins at Gabriela, nodding in sympathy, though what she was about to say falls away as she hushes to listen, eyes slightly wide as if that helps her take it in.  Her applause has a wolf-whistle thrown in the middle of it, for no really apparent reason.  "Hear, hear!"

 

Aouda thinks that song was...wonderful...and frantically resists her urge to call out..."THE DEMENTED WHERRY SONG" because she would probably be gripped by the scruff of the neck and thrown out...teehee.  And that would be bad. "Lovely!" she adds in to the other's comments....but as far as names go, she's stumped.  Too stumped to be sarcastic...too stumped to think up a clever name.  Wow.  Wonderful.

 

Taire is still rather busily scoping out just where they hid the wine. "Ya know, for once I could /really/ use a bit of a toddy. Just a wee bit... maybe a glass... skin would do as well." Dark brows shadow over her eyes as she flips a stray braid away form her eyes. Gaze follows Gaby's pointed direction, and she starts towards, only to stop suddenly as Aryion poses a question to her. "Eh?" The girl looks to hiim with a rather dumb-founded glance, and they eyes the music currenly being played. "Ya can't dance to this.... something fast 'n upbeat and.... fun." You know, something with a catchy beat and you can dance to it. Shake your booty! Woo. "And this ain't it... but I suppose I could?" She speaks that quickly to forgo any dispondant looks or smirk or anything else, the girl idly claps her hands together as the harper finishes off. "Just as long as you get me back to the drink table?" Yeah, she sure could use a stiff one right about now.

 

Cera nearly bumps into a table, blinking at the singing Rayna, then claps when the song is over.  Looking around nervously, Cera reaches for the nearest drink and burries her face in it.  Gotta love wine...

 

Shylo turns her head toward the singer, and once the song has finished sets into a rile of clapping.  "The Rose of Suyinth?  But that song was beautiful!"  She skips over toward Maeko.  "Wasn't that just a wonderful song?"

 

"Demented.. Wherry dance?" Atsuro blinks, and looks rather.. confused. That's a new one. Shrugging, he grins again, rather proud he managed to best at least /one/ of the herder apprentices. The others.. well, that's a challenge yet to come. "Barn dance, hm? Why not. You'll have to learn to dance eventually. What's a good gathering without it?" Does he know what he's talking about? Assuredly not. Humor the poor boy. Words of the song catch his ear, and he turns his head torwards their direction to listen closer as an exhaled breath forms a smile as it ends. "Lovely indeed!" Agreeing with Aouda, of course.

 

Caitlin smiles and claps Rayna "Lovely child"  she gently pats the girl on the shoulder in reassurance and she bows again "My thanks again for your presence and now we will let you return to the dancing and leave you to your conversations, we will have more music and singing later, many here are eager to perform for you.  She turns back to the orchestra who nod and take up instruments again, smiling in appreciation to Rayna for her chance to rest and they begin another dance song, quietly so if people just want to talk they can.

 

Arawn simply chuckles softly, and murmurs as an aside to Kishairyn, "That was very well done," before nodding at Menacion.  He introduces himself to the other man, offering, "Arawn, I'm from Weaver...dropped in to check in on all the Weavers who the weyr kidnapped."  Chipperly, as he states this, he stretches, gaze flickering briefly towards Cera and Anki as they rest about within the hall, before shrugging, muttering something under his breath within the hectic auditorium.

 

P'tala answers the scowl with one of her own, jaw clenching stubbornly at V'zan's rather unreasonable argument. "If we're just buckets for your excess work, I think you've gotten our job description wrong, V'zan. We /are/ supposed to support you enough that you can still walk yourself to bed at night, and get up in the morn." Her hand moves gently but confidently upwards to replace his own, a severe glance from below the reward if he attempts to protest. "And just because you're Weyrleader doesn't mean you get no private time." The last comment is rewarded with a grin, but nothing else. Sincerity, in this one, speaks more than words.

 

Anki applauds slowly, a slight smile appearing. "What a lovely song," she enthuses before joining the rest of the Candidates. "I say, is anyone else here scaredabout what's going onbetween the two biggest egos in the Weyr? I swear, it's a good thing that T'vr's not here or we'd have some sort of explosion. The room's just not big enough." All this, of course, said in a sort of sotto voce..as sotto voce as Anki can get, in any case.

 

Maeko nods to Shylo, a thoughtful smile upon her face. "It was!" Maeko, however, isn't good with names, though she tries- give the poor girl that much. She's just not mentioning any of her failures. A wink and a nudge, and she grins at Shy. "Have fun with Ary?" Ooof course. Ary's just so cute.

 

Andrei waves at Caitlin, then motions towards the orchestra, then at his gitar, and back.  Mouthing, "Okay if I join in with the orchestra?"  He picks up the gitar and starts walking slowly towards it.

 

Gabriela claps loudly, sailory habits coming through as fingers go to her mouth for a loud whistle. She has manners tucked away someplace. She chuckles toward Taire, nodding. "Surely they have some good skins," she replies as she leans back against her wall, arms crossed over her chest. "Cera! Over here!" Whispered call once again tries to reach across the room, hopefully successfully. "I think they finally discovered, Anki," she replies slowly and quietly, "that their undying love cannot be pushed away... They must break the resistance within them in order to find true happiness." Think she's read too many romance novels?

 

Menacion ignores the song with his customary philistinistic lack of appreciation and, instead, raises a brow.  "Bawdy songs?"  Okaaay...head in the other direction.  Wait.  That's some other time.  Great.  He doesn't have to run. "Menace..."  He rturns to Arawn.  "I think we bumped into each other once before."  He shrugs, defending R'kan.  "Karnie doesn't have that big an ego. He's a very nice person.  Though I certainly second the other notion."  He shudders.  "T'var here would be more than I could stand."

 

V'zan does indeed open his mouth to comment on the placement of P'tala's hand on his neck, but after espying the look on the greenrider's face, he wisely holds his tongue.  Massage could usually seque into stranglehold, after all.  "That feels... nice?"  Surprise brings a questioning lilt to his tone.  "And I do get private time.  About 4 hours a night. Plenty.  Really.  Oh, and even the occasional meal break."

 

Cera blinks as she looks down her nose at the glass of wine, before she gulps down half of it.  Blushing even more, Cera's eyes flick about, drawn to Gabriela's call to her.  Blushing even more, Cera lowers her glass and clears ehr throat, trying to look the dignified *ahem* weaver she used to be.  With just a moment's pause, Cera slowly starts to make her way in Gabby's direction.  With a smile, Cera nods.  "Hello everyone," she comments softly.

 

V'len is beaming. So cool! "They were singing about me! Did you hear her? She was talking about the bronzerider on the sands! That's me!" V'len's standing tall, taking the applause thats' filling the hall as appreciation - finally - for his part in all of this. "Oh, the song was lovely, but I think it didn't quite mention Yevgeth enough. All those references to the queen? They /do/ get the attention. Ah, but... just as I was saying, eh, R'kan?" There's a bit of a bronzerider nudge there. That bit of advice about complimenting the women for a change slips right on by... even R'kan can't be right about /everything/, and it moves right to his assessment of Maraith. "Well, I suppose that each rider sees perfection in their dragons. It's a good thing. It keeps down the jealousy. They all can't be Yevgeths, although I'm sure that in Maraith's case, he's wonderful in his own right. After all," he says leaning in for a very quiet conspiratorial whisper. "Yevgeth has /horrible/ color sense. Can you imagine? It pains me. It really does."

 

Shylo still thinks The Rose of Suyinth is the best name she's come up with. "He's a great dancer... Ary I mean...  Except that he seemed to twirl quite a bit too much..."  She settles down in a chair beside Maeko, watching Aryion with his other partners.  "I nearly tripped and fell, but thank Faranth the music slowed or I would have made a scene."  She looks to her feet, letting out a short snort of humor. "And probably twisted my ankle in the process."

 

Kishairyn grins and gestures.  "There you go, Taire ... grab a partner and make us all proud," she says with a cheerful flutter of her hands.  She nods once in agreement.  "Twas very well done ... hope it won't give more fuel to V'len's fire."  Though given the present situation, maybe that's a minor fear.  She flashes a grin at Arawn.  "Would be a pleasure, when you like ..."  She clears her throat loudly.  "I think it's sweet, actually, Anki.  They look positively darling together."  She blinks sideways at Gabriela.  "You're not thinking of settling down and having sixteen kids,  are you?"  A sweet smile for Menace.  "Or anything else you can think might need interpreting, yes ... hello, Cera, you look lovely."  Does that cover everyone?

 

Caitlin laughs softly and waves at Andrei and nods her approval of him joining in, anyone to help them out. She nods as the music swells, the sorrowful sound they were playing before dismissed and the light hearted chatter of the flutes and the fiddles become quite apprent with the gitars trying to interrupt.

 

Aryion applauds loudly, touched by the beautiful song. "Nice song that, very nice." Turning back to Taire, "so.. I will take that as a yes?" He holds out his hand to Taire, and with a sly grin he nods toward the dance floor, "want to go spin a few. I promise to return you safe and maybe slightly dizzy to the wine table." He nods solemnly to her before casting his charming grin back at the girl. A quick wink is cast in Kisha's direction before he casts a "Kisha, your next," over his shoulder. Back at Taire, "ready to go and really show them how to dance?"

 

Andrei almost jumps with joy as he takes a place in the back with the gitarists.  Picking up the light melody, he begins to play countervoice to it, along with the other gitars.  His eyes close as he plays, his fingers dancing happily over the strings, glad that he is finally able to play for someone.

 

P'tala needs a chair. Some people are too tall for their own good, and V'zan is one of them. Fingers work methodically and with great precision, isolating and rubbing muscles in the most businesslike way possible. "Good," she responds brusquely, then rolls her eyes. "Four hours? A night? Does that include sleeping or no, V'zan?" the Weyrsecond demands. "And the occasional meal break is hardly enough. Take some time, V'zan, and dump some work on your loyal and hard-working underlings." Loyalty is M'lan's half; P'tala takes the hard-working part.

 

"Sweet?  I think it's frightening, from the looks of it."  Arawn's light tenor voice trails off, as he glances to Menacion, nodding, "Think so, actually, but wanted to be sure..."  He trails off, and points out to Kishairyn, "Now works, then, I guess?"  Shrugging easily, he gestures to the dancefloor again, looking amused, and says, "Shall we?"  They can gossip more about more people that way.  Always fun.

 

Aouda nods to Atty, yawning once...and then twice.  Look folks, she's "danced", she's eaten, she's done what herders do at parties, and now it's time for her to scoot.  Really.  She is /tired/.  Her klah energy is gone, her herder energy is gone, and her Aouda energy is gone.  With a feeble wave to anyone who might care to see it, she walks backwards...out the exit.  Bai all!

 

Taire spurns Aryion's outraised hand, instead, reaching out to grip his sleeve and physically drag him out there. She does throw a glance over her shoulder to Gaby, "Just be sure to save some for me." She flashes the ex-trader a beaming smile before continuing her tugging upon her fellow candidate on out to the dance floor. "If'n you hear a sound like a feline's purr, that'd be my dress ripping. Pay it no mind."

 

"Good you finally made it," Gabriela murmurs to Cera with a soft smile. She sends a glance and raised eyebrow toward V'len before leaning toward Menace. "I see what you mean now about V'len's... confidence, though it's understandable he would be proud." She guffaws at Kishairyn, shaking her head. "Oh, hardly! We've had this talk before. You have the sixteen brats, and I will keep them hyper on sweets. And I will come chat with you as you make meals and wash the laundry for your handfasted." She winks toward the candidate before turning toward Arawn, shrugging. "As long as they're happy..." Laughing toward Taire, she nods. "I'll try not to swig it all down."

 

Yeah, that's why P'tala lounges in the Lower Caverns. :)

 

Anki almost chokes on a sip of juice. "Darling, yes, but not to be thought of. I can feel my mind boggling. If they get any more cloying it'll start dribbling out of my ears. Menace, can't you teach them how to...oh, I don't know. Scratch at themselves or give grunts that're full of masculinity and vigor?" she asks plaintively, looking at the happy 'couple'. "R'kan's acting graceful enough for me to throw in the glove and I'm /female/." And he's not, or so her point goes.

 

Maeko giggles and bobs her head, curls shaking with the movement. "You had fun, then! Great." That was Maeko's mission, after all. "Good thing you didn't fall, though.. hard enough to get to lessons on time fully healthy, much less with a twisted ankle." She knows, yes.. she knows this. Le yawn. Maeko's attention is desperately needing something to attach to. "Suyinth's Rose is pretty," She comments absently to Shylo. "It's got a poetic ring to it, anyway."

 

Cera blinks a few times as she makes it to where everyone else is... er... was. For a moment, Cera stands there confused, looking at Arawn, Kisha, Taire, Aryion, then looking down at her dress, before turning to try and look at the back of it.  Shaking her head with a shrug, Cera takes another sip from the wine glass, and lets her blue eyes look absently about the rest of the room. She turns back and nods to Gabby with a smile.  "Yes, well... button came off, you see.  And since it buttons in the back..."  Then she blinks again, confused.  "As long as who is happy?"

 

Oddly, the thought of delegating more work to his Weyrseconds makes V'zan more tense rather than less.  "It's just not /right/ for me to dump my workload on you two.  You both already have a considerable number of duties; I don't want to add to that merely because I can't handle my own responsibilities."  He then defensively comments, "And I can function just fine on three hours of sleep a night, leaving me a full hour to just relax."  Just don't pay attention to the dark shadows 'neath his eyes.

 

Kishairyn smirks softly.  "That's just because you don't have much of a tolerance for sweet," is her assessment.  She chokes low in her throat and shakes her head vehemently at Gabriela's words.  "Somehow, I'm *quite* sure it was the other way around ... and if it isn't, is it too late to change my mind?"  She quirks an eyebrow at Arawn, mocking a trace of indignance.  "You guess?  What a way to ask a woman to dance ..."  She offers her arm to him. "Lead the way."

 

The musicians are really quite efficient, matching their music to the dancesteps, supporting and weaving, each set of instruments has its turn to shine, rising to a crescendo then lowering, the gitars and the fiddles still spar while the flirty flutes do dance between them.

 

Menacion rests one hand familiarly on the hilt of his rapier, feeling much more comfortable.  "Pride?  Pride is one thing.  V'len's waaay beyond just proud." he responds to Gaby.  Shrug.  "Well, if you want V'len to grunt or scratch himself, you try yourself.  But I don't see anything that unusual about Karnie's behavior.  He's acting pretty normal."  One corner of his mouth quirks in a smile.  "Now isn't that an irony.  He's more feminine than you are?  Maybe you ought to sollicit lessons from him." 

 

Shylo giggles. "Awww, what're ya kiddin? It's not a very good name and you know it."  Yaaaawwn.  Whoa, where'd that come from.  She's not tired.  Yaaawwn. Great.  "The music is pretty?"  That came out in a question.  Rephrase.  "The music is pretty."  Better.  Perhaps she is a tad tired.

 

R'kan is almost about to insert a comment in there--Maraith /is/ perfect, he says so--but the bronzerider has his hook baited, and his line's already being pulled in. "The song would be nice in any case," the bronzer replies, enthused again, and continues with his tirade. "The songs need to mention the queen a bit more, V'len. After all, with a dragon as wonderful as Yevgeth, there's surely no need for immortality by mere verse." R'kan is almost always right when women are concerned, unless those women happen to be Kerryn and Jenar. The man fluffs his lace a bit, managing to make the action more delicate than frivolous. "I can barely believe it. Though perhaps his coloring is just too stunning for him to recognize anything else. Surely his beauty rivals the rider..." R'kan is the personification of Smooooth.

 

Arawn smirks towards Kishairyn, and murmurs towards her, leading her out onto the dance floor again, then begins to dance amidst the music.  He then states, ironically to Kishairyn, "I wonder what they'll do tomorrow morning..." Scream, most likely-- at least V'len.  Shrugging again, he coughs, holding a hand before him as he catches the tail-end of R'kan's words, muttering again.

 

Mrowr. From the look on Anki's face as the smile solidifies, Menace is going to pay for that comment. Sipping thoughtfully, she nods. "I'll have to do just that, Menacion. Thanks for pointing it out for me." The cup lowers to reveal a perfect smile. Too perfect, really.

 

Gabriela laughs at Anki's words to Menace, shaking her head. "They add a spice of variety to the weyr, that's for sure. And, Cera, imagine the problem you'd have if it buttoned in the front. You'd have no problems getting dances, that's for sure." See. She's been corrupted. "Oh, V'len and R'kan," she replies nonchalantly and with a wave of her hand. A quick head shake goes toward Kishairyn. "No, dear Kisha, I'm never spawning... not for a few turns, at least. Kidlets tend to fall overboard."

 

Being dragged out onto the dance floor was surprising, but Aryion should have known by now not to be surprised by anything that Taire does. Laughing, he takes her hand in his, and laying the other hand on her waist begins to twirl the girl around the floor laughing and throughly enjoying himself during this dance. He casts her a daring smile, "shall we see who will be the first to drop in exhaustion?" He asks, daring her to meet his challenge.

 

P'tala sighs, shaking her head firmly. "You can't keep those kinds of hours, V'zan. It's not healthy, and Faranth knows that you, of all people, need your health. Take my advice," she says, placing a hand on his shoulder and walking around to the Weyrleader's front side. It ruins the effect, but at least she can see the Weyrleader's face now. "See that table? Find a jug of wine, and get breathtakingly and horrendously drunk. Tomorrow, you will have a headache so painful that you won't be /able/ to work. Lounge a bit. Eat, drink... something. Let M'lan and I handle everything for a day, then come back the next." It's more of a demand, than a request, but she does leave a little opening.

 

Kishairyn chuckles softly, shaking her head.  "You really are quite the gossip, aren't you?" she murmurs, amusement sparkling in her eyes, stepping easily into the dance.  "That's why you strap them to the rails, Gaby!" she calls over her shoulder:  nothing wrong with her ability to shout something out, nor her complete lack of compunction that someone might overhear.  She inclines her head to Arawn.  "That's better," she murmurs, sounding mollified.  "And I do think ... well, I think the issue is, V'len doesn't have a chance without him."

 

Cera looks between Menacion and Anki for a moment, before smiling over her glass of wine.  "You know, Menacion, you really should have let V'len make you an outfit.  Knit woudl just look so dashing on you, with a little lace at the throat."  Bright eyes shining, Cera flashes a big smiel before looking over to Gabriela, and nearly -chokes- on her own breath.  "V'len!  And R'kan?!" Cera's face turns a bright red to match Taire's dress, and the wine glass is brought up to her lips, to hide the crimson blush that trails down to her shoulders.

 

Taire bends over to hike up her dress, once more baring a good deal of trim leg for all to view. But, on second thought, holding up a bunch of fabric while partaking of a lively tune isn't exactly gonna make her look like some kind of Pernese Ginger Rodgers. She did it before. Who is to say she can't do it again. Using the sound of the music and the crowd to mask her action. fingers grip upon either side of the hem that falls down the side of her left leg, and with not all that much pressure, she pulls it appart 'til the stitching splits at her ankle. There. Thats better now. As she comes up, she is suddenly gripped by Ary. This isn't at all how dancing is supposed to be. You're supposed to bebop around, shimmy and shake your groove thang. Not grip each other. But.... ohhh, the gauntlet is thrown and the girl grins with feral intent. "Bring it on."

 

Maeko knows how Shylo feels- Physically, there is no tiredness in her body, but that yawn.. it escaped all the same. And you know how contagious those things are. But she's bored, and excess energy forces her to stand, shifting from foot to foot. "/I/ haven't danced yet," She comments idly, eyes casting over those who are currently in the process. "I'd steal Ary, but he's busy.. want to dance some more?" This question is directed torwards Shylo with a shrug. Hey, she's /bored/, darnit. They can always do a repeat of Aouda's wonderful dance- more a twirl using a partner as a center of gravity, but.. it's about all Maeko can manage. Foot stomps on the ground with force, and she rocks back and forth from heel to toe. "Or maybe you've got a better idea?" Food is always good.

 

Ashelyn walks in.

 

Zhyni steps through the double doors into the auditorium.

 

It's just one small measure of retaliation for the indignities that have been heaped on Menace.  Shaving being prime among them.  One has to admit, Anki left herself wide open for that sort of cutting remark.  Smiling beatifically, Menace nods.  "I'd be glad to introduce the two of you to each other.  Give Karnie a little introduction."  (Hey, here's Anki.  She's a tad clumsy and unfeminine, think you can help?)  "No thanks, Cera, I like my uniform perfectly well.  I'm not sure I would quite agree with V'len's idea of 'taste'."

 

Music continues, the orchestra not pausing between tunes, the big drums begin their beating now, thump thump, booming out the steady steps, over which the lighter percussion instruments triumphantly sing out, joining in with the other instruments that weave their merry dance through the auditorium.

 

V'len is on his second ... no, make that third glass of wine already, and what ever R'kan is saying sounds rather good. He's agreeing, anyway. "I do suppose the song has to mention the queen to make up for the agony poor Siani is going through... now that you pointed it out to me. I should just be gracious about it. Yevgeth, no doubt, will have his name immortalized in song and sonnet, so I don't need to worry." He turns towards R'kan with a broad and happy grin. Nope, he's not feeling like he's got much to worry about at all right now... absolutely stunningly blind to any danger. As for that comment about Yev's beauty rivaling his? "Awww..." he snickers, giving the fellow bronzerider a light little punch on the arm, that is, if he doesn't duck. How manly. "That's very sweet of you to say. More wine?"

 

The suggestion does bring another faint grin to his otherwise tired features, but V'zan shakes his head decisively. "Nay, I couldn't do that.  As is, I've already stayed too long...  All I have to do is wait for Noswaith to lose a key flight, and I'll be free to sleep as much as I want.  Until then, well, the toil will continue.  I do thank you for the offer, however; it's greatly appreciated."  He flashes P'tala one of his legendary pearly-white smiles. "You actually do have a nice streak in you somewhere, don't you?"

 

Shylo giggles maniacally.  "Demented Wherry Dance?  Hmm...  If we can abduct a few wallflowers..."  She gazes over to scan the walls of shy, hiding victims. "C'mon, let's find some..."  Yes, that dance will certainly spark up energy within the girl.  She slowly rises from her seat.

 

Anki speaks through her beatific smile, not around. "I hardly think you're the prime authority on taste, Menace, even though I'm forced to agree that V'len has inherited a rather strange strain of that virtue. Still, I do happen to know 'Karnie'. I designed his outfit that he's wearing tonight." From the look in her eye, it'll be shaves all over and pink booties for Menacion tonight. "Cera, sweet, don't you want anotehr cup of wine?"

 

One of the fiddlers has been hearing mentions of the demented wherry dance all night and he quickly runs a trill up and down on his fiddle and the other musicians casts glances at their CraftMaster and then follow his lead, their music whirling and swirling and drawing people in, faster and faster to spin and spin and spin.

 

P'tala shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "Even if you do, doubtless the new Weyrleader would appoint you as the Weyrsecond... After all, who could be more qualified?" The look on her face is slightly irked and slightly mournful, but she puts it forcibly away with a giggle. "Well, the offer stands." A nod to the comment, and shrugs. "A nice streak? Maybe I just like you." And it's V'zan's choice as to the sincerity of that comment.

 

"Strap them to the sails?" Gabriela blinks toward Kishairyn. "But the wind...? Rails? Oh, Kish, you're awful!" Sharding noise... She grins toward Menacion at Cera's words, raising an eyebrow and nodding, before replying. "Aye, they were dancing together, and they've just been.... clicking. She points to Taire, grinning. "Look at that one go," she whispers with a wink.

 

Ashelyn glides into the room, usual garment exchanged for a dress of brilliant and bold red hue.  Simple in design, sleeveless with a low back and daringly low front.  Auburn locks lifted into a loose knot, held by dried flowers and a silver chain.  She passes quickly by Menace and a few others she knows, coming to a rest by V'zan.  "Good eve, Weyrleader."  A respectful bow as the the assistant steward grabs a glass of wine from a passing server.  Others are given waves, though the former guard turned candidate gets a stern glare.

 

Aryion grins as the music picks up a lively beat and drops his hand at her waist to spin her around with the other. Oh no, he didn't miss that brief flash of leg, and eyes her appreciatively. Continuing to be-bop around the floor swinging Taire around as gracefully as possible he does manage to catch his breath to mummer a few sentences. "I just wanted to tell you how much I like your, um, dress." Subtle and smooth there Ary. Eyes flash with a evil twinkle as he gracefully spins the girl around, becoming very exuberant in his dancing, reacting to the quickening pace of the music.

 

Andrei smiles impishly at the new change of pace in the music, and gets into the mood himself, fingers flying over the strings.  Now this is /fun/!

 

Cera stares in unbelief at Gabriela.  "But... but... but... they're both MALE!" she exclaims, finally.  Gulping down the rest of her glass of wine, Cera nods quickly to Anki holding out the empty chalice.  "Yes.  More wine!  That's just ... I mean... how could... "  Cera's head tilts to the side and she gives a shudder and a twitch.  "But... where?"

 

Arawn smirks at Kishairyn, and murmurs, "That's better?"  He blinks innocently, and looks towards her, shaking his head, "I don't know if he has a chance either way, really..."  He trails off, continuing to dance, and then peers towards Aryion and Taire, murmuring ironically, "Poor girl."

 

V'zan sighs wistfully. "Weyrsecond.  A demotion I would gladly accept.  That'd leave me enough time to get back to my garden, with perhaps a little to spare to test out my theory about you being capable of kindness."  He grins impishly, a hint of the old V'zan reemerging.

 

R'kan lifts a brow in Menacion's direction, hearing his name echoed several times and wandering over, continuing the conversation with his second glass in hand. Hopefully, V'len will follow along and stay at his side. (Stand by your maaaan... kinda.) "That is true. I mean, Siani surely deserves a little honoring for the doubtless inner turmoil she's going through. No, no more wine for now... Let's go say hello to your candidates, shall we? Menace, I heard my name?" There, isn't he the sweet little hostess?

 

And thus the search begins- for the wallflower to draw in. As the music picks up, however, Maeko tugs on Shylo's sleeve to bring her away from the chairs (obstacles) and reach for her hands. "Come on! Take advantage of the beat while we've got it." Spin, spin, spin- the spiral dance, participants weaving in and out and around all others.. imagine the design left if everyone's feet left a colored line upon the floor. In, then out, then 'round the outside- back to the center, and twirl out once again. Make it up as you go, the design doesn't really matter; just be careful of smashing into other people.

 

"Ah.  Then you need no introduction.  Glad to hear it."  Menace replies.  (Hey there, remember that weaver person?  The unfeminine one who made your outfit?)  "I'm the prime authority on /my/ taste."  he responds blandly.  Shaves all over?  Gee...how reassuring.  At least it's not waxing.  Blink.  "What kind of music is this, anyway?"  How odd.  He shrugs at Cera.  "It's better not to ask.  Trust me.  Don't ask...."  Menace doesn't know either.  His voice trails off as he spots the aforementioned rider approaching. "Err?  Hi Karnie.  How are you doing tonight?  We were just talking about..um...how...well...you and V'len were getting along."

 

Taire isn't about to be led about the dancefloor like some kinda canine. Ohhh no. Aryion can try to spin her all he wants, but be better be ready to get as good as he is giving. In the midst of a drum-beat, the girl shifts gears and sets to lead him for awhlie. "Ahhh, its me dress you're lookin' at? That'd be a fardling shame if'n you were so blinded by the color to misstep." And with a healthy thrust, moves to actually try to swing Ary about. Size matters not, its raw determination here.

 

Caitlin shakes her head but there is a merry grin on her face but she sighs, wondeirng how this tune ever got such an awful name.  She lifts her feet out of the way, not wanting her new slippers to be stood upon, her foot already bruised.  She glances around the room and hopes nothing is knocked and then she smiles as she listens to the whirling music and watching the dancers twirl.

 

Perfect. All R'kan needs is a skirt. Often, when outraged, women trumpet the thoughtless comments of their hapless male comrades for the whole world to hear. "Indeed, R'kan," Anki murmers. "Menacion is of the opinion that I should get lessons in femininity from you. What a sterline idea, isn't it?" she asks, voice edged with a glass-sharp edge. Good evening, V'len. Enjoying yourself?"

 

Kishairyn smirks faintly.  "I think poor him, rather ... Taire is more than any man can handle, I think."  She grins, shaking her head.  "I don't know, I don't see any problem with tying a child to the rails," she says to Arawn. "Do you?"

 

Shylo pads her feet against the ground, twirling around in circles.  This time, she's /going/ to get dizzy.  Her arms pull into her sides, and she eyes the floor, then looking up to the crowd.  She throws out her arms and thrusts them back toward her, twirling on one foot and causing her entire dress to whoosh out from under her.  "I can't believe the Harpers started playing the Demented Wherry Song!" Cackle.

 

P'tala rolls her eyes and laughs, working at melting the tension from her voice. "You and your garden. You'd be more able to grow in the winter than cultivate my niceness," she replies, and maybe if Vez is watching carefully, there's a bit of regret in there. "Does that mean if you're demoted..." The girl stops. Heh.

 

Gabriela giggles at Cera, nodding. "The women won't have them, I guess?" She blinks slightly. Gaby's as new to this as Cera is. "Or perhaps they prefer one another." She shrugs slightly as she looks toward R'kan and V'len. "I don't see anything bad about them, but other women might." She continues chuckling, shaking her head as she secures a glass of wine. "I would advice, Cera, not to ask, or, knowing the people at the weyr, you'll get answers... which are generally scary." She blinks toward R'kan, blushing slightly, considering her earlier words. "Hello there. Enjoying the festivities?"

 

Jenar decides to abandon her corner for awhile, approaching the happy couple. "Good evening V'len, R'kan. Nice to see you both." A bit of sarcasm hinted towards R'kan there. "Especially since Kerryn and I are rasing your son. Thought you would visit more. Now V'len here. Knows his duty." Smile for the bronzer. "V'len think you could rub off on R'kan here on fatherly duties?" Smile. "Kerryn and I would just love to go out now and then, but no one to babysit. It would be the perfect time for father son bonding I think."

 

Arawn blinks towards Kishairyn: he doesn't seem to get what she's saying, "Tying a child to the rails?  I'm not sure I understand what you mean...?"  He trails off, peering at Kishairyn.

 

Zhyni pads in, a silent wraith amongst the chatter and noise of the gathering as her roveing gaze explores the many unfamiliar faces. But hey, it's a party and Zhyni was never one to be a wallflower so once she locates a clearish piece of floor, she joins the dancing.

 

Cera blinks as she slowly looks from person to person in the group, and gulps deeply once.  And Cera's the oldest -IN- the group.  She turns blue eyes to Menacion and nods slowly.  "You know, I think you're right on that.  I won't ask..."  Blink.  Look, speak of the Dark One... er... First Egg... s.  Cera looks at R'kan, then at V'len, then back at R'kan and then V'len again, and just ... stares now.  This is a lot to comprehend in one day, with one glass of wine already under her belt.

 

V'zan winks, "Y'never know, P'tala, it just might mean that."  Shards, is he flirting?  With Penta?  R'kan must be a bad influence.

 

Aryion laughs loudly at Taire's actions and allows the girl to direct the flow of their dance, he knows when to let the lady have her way. "Aye, the dress m'dear, a shame that you had to rip it, but, you had to have more room to dance like this." Suddenly he changes the flow of the dance again as he picks up the smaller girl and starts twirling her around swing style. Using his size and strength to easily swing the girl around before setting her back, feet to the floor and grinning at her. Having fun yet?

 

R'kan coughs at Jenar, arching a brow carefully and falling coldly silent, perhaps for the first time in his life. "You're looking lovely tonight, Jenar," he remarks casually, then moves towards Menace and nods. "Aye... V'len is a very capable dancer and a charming conversationalist." That is, if you don't go insane first. "You might even enjoy a whirl," he nods, winking. "I like the new beard-style, by the way. I'd say Anki has taste in more than just clothing..." A glance at Cera, and the rider performs a gentlemanly bow. "Delighted to meet you, miss. R'kan, at your service."

 

Zinia done listening to the players, Zinia retreats back to her good friend Caitlin. Noticing the Master swing her foot out of the way the girl frowns. "How is your foot doing Master Caitlin. You didn't hurt it too bad did you? Maybe you should see a healer."

 

Caitlin smiles at Zinia's concern "back are you, still enjoying the music?" she asks and nods "Ahh they gave me some cream and it is doing better but with such a wild dance I was fearing I might get trodden on."  She grins as she looks down at her slippers and lowers her voice "Also I am quite vain, did not want anyone stepping onmy new white shoes."  She smiles and shakes her head "You think people are enjoying themselves."

 

Menacion has a glib response ready.  "Well, it was just a suggestion I came up with.  Anki was the one who brought up the subject of how graceful you were. And how unfeminine she felt, compared to you."  He responds with a smile.  "I thought, why shouldn't she learn from the person who makes her feel so uncoordinated?"  He deliberately turns his back on Jenar.  "Err, you do?"  he replies to R'kan, reaching up to stroke the goatee.  "But it's...like a little...rodent of some sort.  A patch of furry mold attached to my chin."

 

V'len is just along for the rider, thankyouverymuch. Um... along for the ride. Ride. That's what he meant. Ride. He nods a welcome to Menacion. "Oh, R'kan and I have a lot more in common than I would have thought." He nods in agreement with R'kan's remarks. He /is/ smooth! He'll try some of this himself! Bowing towards the ladies, he smiles broadly, catching their eyes. "I'm sure you're delighted to see me as well!" Oh, how personable!

 

The gitars and the fiddles and the drums and the flutes all create a whirling maelstrom, drawing people in to let them spin and spin and spin and then witha thunder roll on the drums it is over, they collapse.  The musicians massage tired hands and then begin a slow song, a steady paced waltz, not quite the wherry dance and not as much fun but definetly relaxing after the speed of the last one.

 

Ashelyn goes home.

 

Either that, or he may have become a little too confident in Noswaith's lack of skills at winning queen flights. "Pity you won't even dance with me while you're working next to me." Cue the melodramatic sigh. "Shards, you might even be too late in catching me. You know how fast violent, arrogant, and belligerent women go in the Weyr, don't you?"

Zinia chuckles softly, sitting next to the Master (Being quite well behaved at that). "Yeah its really nice. I can't wait to learn. Your shoes? Oh..." Voice falls a bit. Zinia really isn't into girly things yet. "How do you like my boots? Mom just got them for me."

 

Jenar just smiles sweetly at R'kan. "Thank you R'kan, Kerryn tends to make me dress well for formal occassions even if she cannot attend." She doesn't push on the lack of his fathering skills again just yet, instead nodding to the others in the group. "Cera. Anki." Menace gets ignored as well. What is it with Jenar and men?

 

Gabriela takes a quick swig of her wine as she does what she does best: sinks back against the wall again, fidgeting with the glass in her fingers. A gentle hum catches her lips as if she knows the tune, though she's pretty far off and out of tune. She chuckles toward V'len, nodding and smiling. "Of course... Always nice to see that you've gotten off the sands."

 

Kishairyn lifts one shoulder in a fluid shrug.  "If one lives aboard a ship, then how does one keep track of one's children?  Tie them to the rails, of course."  She pulls back for half a second, peering at him, then slows as the music changes.

Andrei is suddenly in front of Caitlin and Zinia, panting, his hair tousled. "Hello... Master... Cai... tlin."  He puts his gitar down carefully, then almost collapses.  "That was quite... interesting..."  He smiles a bit at her, then closes his eyes to regenerate for a moment.

 

Taire was feeling rather powerful and manly in a feminine sort of way as she basicly guided the smith about, but that was until she was quite literally picked up. A shoe slips off her foot at the action and the girls arms immediatly latch onto Ary with a death-grip. With eyes as wide as marks, she is stunned speechless for a moment. And then she is whirled about. Now, if she had a couple of glasses of wine in her, she would be more than happy to take up with this sort of thing. Alas, she isn't... nor is she dizzy. Just mortified and in a rather helpless position. So, what is the first thing this candidate does? She kicks... Where that foot/leg/knee lands? Aryion will let us know.

 

Rayna is staying happily hidden in her corner with her song done. Hopefully no one will notice her. Caitlin will definately have to work on her shy senior apprentice.

 

Arawn rolls his eyes at Kishairyn, and laughs, "I don't even want to think about it..."  His voice is amused again, and he glances towards Taire, wincing as she kicks-- just imagining it landing in a less-than-pleasant place.  He murmurs to Kishairyn, "Don't kick."  Please.

 

Cera blinks, yet again!  Cera is an expert at blinking!  She gives a half smile, a wary look in her eyes, to R'kan as she nods.  "Um... well met, Bronzerider. I'm Cera, Journeyman Wea... Candidate of Fort."  Then, she looks at V'len, and STARES even more.  V'len didn't strike Cera as -THAT- sort.  Not that Cera knows who -THAT- sort is, anyway.  "Um, maybe you'd like to dance with me, V'len?"  Cera blinks and blushes a bright red.  Shards!  Where did that come from?  Clearing her throat, Cera tries to cover her tracks by smilng and nodding to Jenar.  "Hello, Jenar.  How goes the babe?"  Safe topic... right?

 

Anki grins sweetly at Menacion. "Carefully, Menacion, you're treading on thin ice here. I wouldn't want to wake up without any hair at all. I'm sure you wouldn't either." Not that Anki'd do such a thing. She prides herself on being a little more subtle. "Ooh, yes! What a very excellent idea. Why don't you go and take a spin with V'len, Meancion? I'd like to speak to R'kan here. Hello, Jenar. How are things with you and your family?"

 

R'kan sighs and rubs his temples at his companion. "No, V'len, darling. It's, 'You look radiant tonight'. Then you wait for them to compliment you in return, see? Much more satisfying that way." A blink at Jenar--perhaps he's been pampered by V'len's easygoing and oh-so-charming style. He just can't handle women who bench more than him. A beam at Cera and an encouraging clap--after, of course, stepping behind V'len. Brow is raised at Anki, interested in whatever the woman has to say due to the success of the tighttight pants. Woowoo.

 

Caitlin smiles at Zinia and admires them "Very nice.  I do prefer boots, especially in winter but you cannot dance in boots and sometimes it is nice to dress up."  She grins and winks at Andrei "Looked like you were having fun there, that is a fast song to play."  She smiles and smoothes her skirts, feet settling on the floor again and she grins at Zinia "Don't you think it is fun occasionally to dress up, or are you like my poor Jo was, happy only in her riding outfit and boots?"

 

V'zan snickers.  "Catching you would require a brave, hardy soul with a deathwish.  Few fit all three criteria, leastwise not without a lot of assistance from liquid courage."  After a moment he adds, "Or the manipulative urgings of wicked lifemates.  As for the dance, sorry to disappoint, but my refusal still stands.  In fact, as I've already mentioned, it is past time for me to depart...  At the very least, I feel the need to escape to somewhere I little more peaceful and less... shocking."  The lasty word is underscored by a glance towards R'kan and his companion.

 

Aouda steps through the double doors into the auditorium.

 

Kishairyn chuckles softly and shakes her head.  "I'd never dream of that ... as long as you're nice to me, that is."  She pauses, fixing Arawn with a warning look, brows high before it melts.  "I suppose I haven't a drop of maternal instinct in me.  Even the weyrlings won't let me near their dragons, if they know what's good for them."

Gabriela snugs Taire! Taire melts into a puddle of purple goo. I feel SO luved now.

 

Gabriela grins toward Cera in either amusement or amazement, eyes wide. Brave, that girl. She gulps down the last from her glass before sighing. "Too many people..." is mumbled as the trader quickly exits the auditorium.

 

Jenar can indeed bench more than prolly all the guys here. Advantage of being a smith. "Sooo. R'kan. When do you think you will come visit Jeryn again?" Assuming he ever visited his son. Not that Jenar minds. But might as well harass him in front of his new beau.

 

Gabriela goes home.

 

Zinia shakes her head. "I don't know how to ride runners. Only been on dragons. But I like my trous and tunics. I can explore then. Dresses are for those prissy holder girls who don't like to play."

 

Aryion offs and grimaces slightly as Taire connects with his side. Not wanting to cause a scene, he sets the girl back down on her own two feet and smiles slightly, favoring his side. "I believe I owe you a glass of wine?" He politely leads her off the floor and summons a large glass from a passing drudge. He offers it to her in hopes of forgiveness. "Sorry bout that Taire, here's your wine."

 

V'len blinks first at R'kan, and then at Cera. A female? Asking him to dance? Whoo! Tonight has been rather successful, no? "I  didn't have to use the radiant line," he hisses to R'kan as he holds out his hand for Cera. "Do you mind, R'kan? I'll return shortly." There's a smile for understanding there, and he makes a little bow towards the lady. "I'm...surprised, Cera, dear. " Astonished. Flabbergasted.

 

Caitlin grins and shakes her head "no I thinkI am too old to dance to that tune now Andrei but thank you for the compliment."  She smiles at Zinia "True true, trous are much more use, you can go further and dresses get ripped but a Masterharper must look the part and sometimes it is fun to dress up but you do look lovely in your outfit today ZInia."  She smiles as she taps her foot to the waltz, listening to the slow soft song as the music joins together, no longer whirling and crashing but joining and melding together.

 

Arawn chuckles at this, "I'm always nice.  I did offer to make you an outfit for this, after the fact, granted, but you never asked for one."  He shrugs lightly, adding, "Some people aren't.  I don't think I'm very paternal, if it helps?"

 

Fynelox walks in.

 

Zinia tilts her head as she smiles at Caitlin. "Ahh. But I am not a Masterharper. I am just the product of a goldflight. Flight baby. I have no duties to others. But thank you. Mom said I had to at least look clean if I was going to go to this and be her daughter."

 

P'tala laughs, absorbing this new insult with a raised brow. "I know you're brave and hardy. And with three hours of sleep a night, you're bound to get a little suicidal too. There, my chances are increasing the more work you do." A brow raises at the two riders in question, and a little breath of relief pops out as V'len finally finds a dance partner of the /undeniably/ feminine persuasion. "I'll join you, if that's all right. If we can't share a dance, I might as well keep terrorizing you." There's our sweet li'l Penta.

 

Cera blushes even more, and grins sheepishly at V'len.  "Honestly, I am to. Must have been the wine. But I asked.  Might as well be good to that, eh?" Cera blinks and looks at R'kan, then at Menace, and there is a spark of ... something.  Not malignant, perhaps, worried, before smiling back to V'len and following him.  At least Cera knows how to dance, and she won't be tripping over herself in that.  Just... pretend, Cera, that you don't know what you do... that... oh, Shards!  You asked '-V'LEN- to dance!  What -WERE- you thinking?

 

Anki gives an arctic smile Menace-wards. "No. It's obvious that they're still inhibiting your common sense. It'll haveo come off." Reaching out to rearrange a pleat on R'kan, she beams, "You look simply splendid tonight, dear. Won't you do me a favour and get Menacion here out of my sight before I'm forced to resort to violence? I do think you two will be quite the pair, twirling gaily around the dance-floor." A winsome enough smile. "Pretty please?"

 

Andrei is now just listening to Caitlin and Zinia's conversation.  Flight baby? Never pegged Zinia as a flight baby... just a... baby.  Shrugging calmly, he closes his eyes again, waiting to get back into the musical groove.

 

Kishairyn smiles slightly.  "True ... but you might have thought of it beforehand, on the other hand," she says, a teasing note in her voice.  She wrinkles her nose, then studies him with a bit more of a serious air.  "No, I didn't you were," she answers.  "It does help.  At times, I voice my opinion about children, and people look at me as if they'd like to have my head on a platter."  She blinks ... and stares backwards towards the candidate cluster. "Oh my."

 

Taire hobbles after Ary, shooting him some rather scowling looks, "How dare ya even pick me up? I sure ain't some kind of rug you can sweep up off the floor 'n lug over your shoulder. What there ya thinking?" She hesitates, and then turns back around to claim her shoe. Thus, she *click-patters* after her fellow candidate, continuing to throw out insults, "Just pick 'em up 'n swing them about. You might be able to do that with some girls, but that ain't me -at least now when I'm clean sober." Hand holding her shoe waggles in Ary's face, "You mark me, boy. Next time I'll black your eye -you just see that I don't. And another thing, I..." She looses her head of steam as the insults wane and wine is brandished by him. "Thanks..." Glass is tiped and downed 'til all is gone. Empty glass is handed back to him as she demands. "Another."

 

Maxwell has connected.

 

Murkat walks in.

 

Caitlin laughs "sounds like you have a duty to your mother."  She smiles and leans back "I was talking to Hanz about you."  She says quite lightly and she shakes her head and finished her drink "He talked highly of you..." She pauses and laughs "Asked me to make sure while you are here I do not let my male apprentices near you."  She winks and then watches people dance, half an eye on Zinia.

 

Shaking his head Arawn denies as they dance, "Sorry, didn't," before turning to look over his shoulder, questioning Kishairyn, "What?"  He didn't see it, unfortunately, nor hear it.  "What's wrong?"

 

Aouda goes home.

 

"Of course not," R'kan replies, winking at Cera encouragingly with a 'knock 'im dead, girl!' kinda smile. Jenar is rewarded with a frosty smile--something the man probably learned from Anki. "When I have time, Jenar-dear, and when I'm not pressed to other engagements. Not, of course, including my tryst with V'len." A glare. He does know some things take precedence. Anki is rewarded with a pretty bow, and a stunning smile. "Of course, Anki, I'd love to remove this Menace." Though not in the way she might think. "As you designed this outfit, Anki, honor a poor bronzerider with a dance?"

 

Rho appears from **BETWEEN**

 

Andrei opens his eyes at the mention of male apprentice, and quirks an eyebrow. Then notices Caitlin's glass is empty, and motions for a drudge to come over, and fills her glass with an excellent Benden red.  "There you go... now what about keeping male apprentices away?  I'm a good boy, I promise."  There's that impish grin again...

 

Zinia nods. "True true. I do. In fact I'm here in her name tonight. So I guess I have a duty to my weyr. Hanz." She smiles slightly. "I think he makes my mother quite happy. He seems nice. But he and I argue about a lot of stuff. But boys are icky so I don't see why he would care about me and apprentices."

 

Fynelox has been rather quiet this evening. No surprise there. But even he is a little more sociable than this normally. The youngster hovers at the edge of the crowds, staying to the shadows with just a mug of juice to keep him company for now. Almost anxiously he watches people, keeping away with almost extreme determination at the moment, perhaps wary of encountering someone or certain someones.

 

Tora grins as she sees Maxwell return.  She was getting rather bored just sitting around.  Of course watching the drunk riders doing the wherry dance was rather, um interesting.  The girl walks over to her friend and grabs his hand.  "Shall we continue?"  She asks motioning towards the dance floor.  She was enjoying dancing, though she'll never admit it.  Of course she doesn't have to but that's a whole different story.

 

"If you promise to keep massaging my neck, you can follow me anywhere, Penta. You will have to pause momentarily while we make our escape, however.  It'd be rather difficult to navigate our way through the press of the crowd otherwise."  V'zan thus gently but reluctantly removes her hands from his aching muscles and turns towards the exit, advantageously using his height to plot the best course through the milling throng.

 

Caitlin laughs soflty and nods as she sips the wine "Ah h you've been learning Andrie, you will keep that knot if you keep this up."  She grins at Andrei "Male apprentices are very icky" she agrees with Zinia "Ahh he is just concerned about you but very much in love your mother."  She smiles softly, almost wistfully and glances at the rings on her fingers and then laughs "I think it is not you and the apperntices he cares about, just wants to make sure myapprentices behave and are suitably respectful"

 

V'len reaches out a second time tonight in the dance hold. The glasses of wine are having an effect, but his steps are still remarkably smooth. "Well, Cera, my dear, I look radiant tonight!" There's a grin shot R'kan's way. He's using his lines! "It's quite wonderful that you could join us for this fine affair. To hear Yevgeth immortalized in song truely makes this an event to remember, wouldn't you say? And it's a lovely night. I wonder if the stars are out." He's babbling away, and only catching bits of conversation. "Trust... isn't that nice. I've just met him, and already, R'kan is talking about trust with me." He glances over with a warm smile, mouthing 'yes' to the bronzerider. "It's always wonderful to know that you can have that kind of a relationship with someone, don't you agree, Cera dear?"

 

Jenar just blinks at R'kan. "No pressed with other engagements? Oh thats wonderful R'kan. Since you seem too busy for /my/ son." She is getting protective here "I would appreciate it if you stay away from him. I don't want him hurt by knowing a man who refuses to be part of his life." After growling that out, and looking quite nice in her dress, Jenar storms out, waving her ride. She is ready to go.

 

The Harpers are tiring now the music slow, wondering if the dancers are as tired as they are.  The music is now more of a lullaby, a gentle croon on the gitars and fiddles, soothing, not the mad rush of the dances before, but supportive and gentle, no fighting or squabbling between instruments now but gentle and happy light tunes.

 

Jenar goes home.

 

Aryion motions for another glass of wine as he suffers the latest Taire-ism first hand. Soon her empty glass is filled again with wine and returned to her, before bowing politely and retreating to the wall to nurse his bruised side and his dragged out and stomped on male ego. He leans against the wall, sipping his own wine, as he tries to decide what was worse, getting slammed in the ribs, or slammed in the face with her words. Groaning slightly he sits down slowly on a nearby bench, finishing one glass of wine and motioning a drudge over with another.

 

Kishairyn shakes her head with a small click of her tongue.  "Cera," she murmurs.  "Cera is dancing with ... V'len?  Or is that an imposter ... no, I can't imagine anyone else being bold enough to wear *that*."  An anxious glance back at Arawn.  "You didn't have anything to do with that outfit, did you?"

 

Maxwell strides back into the auditorium, muttering something about people who can't fix their own problems. His eyes show a flash of relief as he sees the party has not ended while he was gone. Even more relief appears when he spots Tora still there. "Of course, m'dear." He replies, then leads her to the dance floor and wraps one arm about her waist, the other intwined with her hand. "Happy to see you did not leave before I came back." He says with a sly smile.

 

Andrei just shakes his head some more, not believing what Caitlin is saying. After being as good as he is.  Oh well.  He'll just have to prove himself some way.  Some time... who knows when, where, or how.  But he will.

 

Zinia beams as Caitlin agrees. Boys=Ick. "Yeah he is. They make a cute couple. He even lets me play in his wood shop when he isn't busy. And are respectful? Why should I get respect." She is confusing respect as a person wih respect for someone ranked.

 

Anki frowns slightly. No, no, no. This is not going as planned. Far from Menace being swept off his feet by R'kan, she's the one getting the pigeon-wing. Sighing, she places the glass on a nearbytable and steps into the offered dance, shaking her head. "I would love to, R'kan, if you can look past my obvious lack of femininity?" she asks, leaving the departing shaft for the goateed Candidate. Take that, bucko.

 

P'tala follows, carefully (and almost daintily, if you can believe /that/) lifting her skirt up as she walks. She would laugh, but it would probably get lost in the crowd's noise... Now there's something you don't see every day. P'tala: dainty, quiet, and obliging.

 

Shylo rises, yawning in a tiresome effort to go back home.  Which isn't all that far.  And hopefully she'll get there before falling asleep completely.

 

Shylo goes home.

Menacion furrows his brows.  "Inhibiting common sense?  That's rediculous.  Hair doesn't inhibit common sense.  Hair has nothing to do with sense."  Or else bald old people would be the most sensible people on the planet.  "Violence? I thought we were just chatting."  Offering violence to a fully armed guardsman is probably not a very smart idea.  "And I just told you.  I don't dance."  Not with women, not with men.  "Have fun, you two.  Maybe you can learn some pointeres while dancing."

 

Caitlin laughs softly "Respectful as polite and nice and not taking advantage of you."  She shakes her head "We do not care about rank at harper Hall, everyone deserves our respect."  Wine is sampled and enjoyed and she smiles "Looks like people are starting to get tired.  SHould I stop the music and see if they want to return to the dining hall for refreshments you think?"

 

Cera hehs and blushes a bit.  "Um... thank you, V'len.  I've, um... been waiting for a time to wear this outfit."  Cera blushes a bit more and nods at V'len. "And... you look nice, too.  You said this was one of your designs, this outfit?"  Cera -tries- to compliment in return.  But... it's been a long time... Smoothly gliding along with V'len's steps Cera fixes the man with a furrowed brown.  "Um... about R'kan, V'len... you know, everyone is ... um... saying you two are going to be a ... um... couple."  Cera turns firery red now, looking more at V'len's chest than at the man himself.  That wine is really loosening up her lips.  "I mean.. I don't see why... if you would stop talking about yourself long enough, you'd get girls if you ... uh... wanted them."  Yeah, that was almost motherly in tone.

 

Aryion goes home.

 

Arawn blinks at Kishairyn, and shakes his head, "No...not that I'm aware?"  He glances to both V'len and Cera, and wrinkles his nose, "Definitely not V'len's.  Too ostentatious.  But no, didn't have anything to do with Cera's...why?"

 

Zinia nods at Caitlin. "Some food sounds good. I know I'm hungry." Her stomach even growls on cue. "Though I can't stay too late. Mom told Auntie to make sure I was back at a decent hour. But I can stay a little bit longer right?" Hopeful look there.

 

R'kan sighs as Jenar leaves in a huff, and gives a worried look to Anki. "Is it just me or was that a little too emotional for a festive occasion? She does have a quaint way of consistantly hating my entrails." An attempt at a grin proves a little more promising, and it's not too long before he blossoms into a full-fledged smile. "As long as you lead, and ignore my definite lack of masculinity, I'm sure we'll do fine."

 

Andrei shrugs, "You /are/ the MasterHarper.  The decision is left to you." Winkage.  "But what about the apprentices who wanted to perform?  I know Varia did... and Joyton really wanted a round..."  He shrugs, "Their fault for missing it, right?"

 

Taire peers afer the retreating Ary, smirking lightly after him. Just see if'n she ever dances with that one again. Bruised ego? She'll bruise a lot more if she ever gets her hands on him. She seems rather oblivious to his actions, but sidling glances are directed to the candidate once and again. Wine glass is once more tipped to her lips as she gulps down the burgandy-hued contents. An "Ahhhh" followed by a swipe of her hand over her lips draws the lost shoe into view. "Shells." Footwear is dropped and her foot slips into it once more. With a sniff, the girl turns about to spot ... Ohhhh, Fyne! *swoon* She bats doe-eyes at the boy for a moment, watching from afar.

 

Tora smiles, glad that the Maxwell is still willing to dance and also glad that the song is a slow one.  Not that she is tired but she is still having trouble dancing.  Also she prefers dancing slowly, especialy with her friend.  She watches as many of the others leave.  It would seem that the party is almost over, too bad really.

 

Klah appears from **BETWEEN**

 

Caitlin laughs softly and nods "We won't throw you out but cannot have Sinia mad at me."  She smiles and stands "I suppose if they want to dance they can remain here but the musicians will probably be on break."  SHe winks "Lets get some refreshment and perhaps they will not look for you in there Zinia."  She smiles at Andrei "if you like you could ask people if they want to hear your song."  She nods and

 

Murkat goes home.

 

V'zan makes good his escape, clearing a path for P'tala in the process.  He flashes a smile towards Caitlin and offers her a friendly wave, but the desire to finally flee the crowded chamber overwhelms any thoughts of congratulating her on the party at the moment.  Such niceties can be handled later.  For now, freedom beckons.

 

V'zan leaves the wonderful acoustics of the auditorium for the entry hall.

 

Kishairyn quirks another sideways glance, studying the pair covertly before she shrugs.  "I would never ... amazing," she murmurs.  "That's a brave move for poor Cera."  Her expression turns wry.  "I didn't think so, but it never hurts to check ... and I think Cera made her own.  Lovely, isn't it?"

 

Caitlin leaves the wonderful acoustics of the auditorium for the entry hall.

 

Zinia grins and rises, a happy canine pup following Caitlin. "Sounds good. Besides. Can just say the Masterharper wanted to speak to me right?" Since they are all buddy buddy and all.

 

Zinia leaves the wonderful acoustics of the auditorium for the entry hall.

 

Andrei leaves the wonderful acoustics of the auditorium for the entry hall.

 

Fynelox freezes over in his dim corner, having caught sight of Taire over on the other side of the auditorium. Can we say deer caught in headlights? It was one thing to give into a moment, spurned on by the badgering of the older males in the Weyr, but in the cold light of morning, he can't believe he actually went through with it. Must have been the heat, the steam, or something. Gulping, he stares back at her, backing up slightly till he bumps into the wall behind him. A grimace appears though in the darkness where he stands, it might be mistaken for a smile from afar.

 

P'tala leaves the wonderful acoustics of the auditorium for the entry hall.

 

Anki has to lead? Hesitating, she nods and strides out to prove she can do just that. "Barring some festive arrangement between you, me and Menacion, I suppose I will have to learn," she teases R'kan as they round a couple of lovesick Healers. "Mmm, I don't know. It was certainly very out of place and I..well. I don't know what to say. I thought that you weren't involved with Jeryn at all, but I might've been wrong?" she queries before getting to the skinny, "So tell me. what's this about V'len?"

 

Maxwell stops dancing as he notices the harpers slowing, but keeps his arm around Tora's waist. Looking at her, he smiles. "Should we follow everyone else? I believe someone said something about food...." As always, he's hungry, but if Tora wishes to stay and dance some more, he will gladly do it. He'll just have to ignore his annoying growling stomach.....

 

V'len looks at Cera in confusion. "R'kan and me? Well, he is absolutely charming, and he and I have hit it off wonderfully. I'm kind of at a loss for what you mean." And indeed, poor V'len is. "I think every guy should have a guy freind to talk to ...you know, exchange decorating tips, fashion updates, that sort of thing. Guy talk. I've just had a hard time finding someone with my interests. As for the women? I think I'll just have to wait until I find one that takes me as I am. After all, I don't really think I should change for anyone, do you? I mean, all that 'be true to yourself' stuff? You're not expecting me to discount that, are you?"

 

Arawn chuckles lightly; he shakes his head, saying as an aside to Kishairyn, "No it's not.  She's drinking.  She gets that way when she takes wine."  Amused, he shrugs lightly, then murmurs, "Sure is, Cera's talented."  With this, he glances around, and smirks, "I'm still betting on that other fellow catching V'len."

 

R'kan takes up the female position again, giggling at Anki, then sighing at the more sedate conversation. "Odd," he replies, shoulders rolling upwards as a preventative for sagging, "I thought that I was. The father, you know... But seeing as I'm hardly allowed in the weyr, and that Kerryn was trying to kill me during her pregnancy..." He may be talking, but feet and body keep up with the rhythm, almost negligently following along. "And as for V'len... he's cute. Not a girlish attempt to make Jenar jealous, either." And what should follow up a comment like that, but a saucy wink?

 

Taire is no prim little miss to sit back and allow any shying away continue. Ohhh no, life must be lived to the fullest. As if she is going to kick one boy in the shins in one breath  and moon after the other in the next, then so be it. Wine-glass is held before her as she sweeps forth, meandering around this one and that, with eyes only for that little herder boy. Its like he is calling to her from afar. Wow... has Fynelox always sparkled like that? Funny she never really noticed before. As a pair dance before her, gaze is momentarly broken from that dashing candidate of the firmly enchanting lips.

 

Cera blinks at V'len a few more times as they dance around, chewing on her lower lip.  She may not -LIKE- him... but... dare she NOT ... warn him.  "Eh... well, truth be told, I am not all that sure what people mean either.  I mean... how is it possi...Er..."  Cera shakes her head and looks down at her shoes, making sure she hasn't lost the beat.  Or... just hiding from V'len's gaze as she blushes more.  "As far as being true to yourself... I don't know. I mean... here I am, and I haven't found anyone, V'len.  You dragonriders," she starts to comment teasingly, "Keep taking them away from me when I -DO- find someone."  Then she shrugs again, smiling slightly.  "Just... V'len, trust me.  Go bad to the sands... -DON'T- follow R'kan to his Weyr... hmmm?"

 

Tora laughs as the growling of Maxwell's stomache is joined by her own.  "All right, lets go eat."  She detaches herself, rather reluctantly, from Maxwell and leads him off of the dance floor, not quite sure just where the food is. As usual she speaks her mind.  "Um, where is the food?"

 

Maxwell leaves the wonderful acoustics of the auditorium for the entry hall.

 

Tora leaves the wonderful acoustics of the auditorium for the entry hall.

 

The musicians stand, their places taken by others and they join the crowd or leave for food and drink, arms and hands tired.  The new musicians take up their places and begin playing mood music, soft and gentle, not intrusive but there in the background for anyone who wants to listen.

 

Kishairyn quirks an eyebrow.  "That's a terrible fate," she murmurs.  "To turn to V'len whilst on wine ..."  She tilts her head, peering about the auditorium in search of R'kan.  "I don't think Anki is going to give him any openings," she remarks, amusement clear in her voice.  "That she is," she's willing to agree, then casts a glance towarss the harpers.  "Seems as if they're worn out."

 

"R'kan, if you're going to set your cap at V'len, I swear I'll go canine-mad and start howling at the moon," Anki swears, carefully cradling the man around another brisk turn. "I'll have to thank you though, since it'll keep his attention off us long enough for me to escape at the Hatching and flee back to the Hall." Conspiratorially, she leans closer. "I could bring the two of you some refreshments perhaps?" she offers innocuously, well willing to prod the dragon firmly in the hiney region. "After all, a night's dancing such as this would be enough to tire delicate sensibilities terribly."

 

Menacion takes advantage of the momentary lack of people to talk to and snags himself a drink--non-alchoholic, of course.  Poor Fyne.  He's going to have to face the consequences of his actions:  being cornered by a love-sick Taire. Eyes idly travel over the crowd, from pairing to pairing.  Quite odd, most of them.  If not all of them.

 

Fynelox looks around wildly. Trapped. Stupid corners. His fingers tighten around his mug of juice, nothing to fortify the soul or one's spine inside that cup. Oooh, he shouldn't have given in to impulse last night, what could have he been thinking? (It's called teenage hormones, bound to happen to even him.) Closing his eyes for a second, he tries to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. Hrm..not working that well. Everytime he opens his eyes, Taire is that much closer. Oh shells. Finally, it's unavoidable since he feels rooted to the spot, small part of his mind yammering in fear, but oddly another voice is wondering why he'd need to run at all. "Ah... hi Taire."

 

Andrei steps through the double doors into the auditorium.

 

Deimos steps through the double doors into the auditorium.

 

Andrei comes into the auditorium, a panicked look on his face.  Running over to the two things he forgot, he sighs heavily... grabs his songbook and his gitar, and goes to play with the orchestra for a moment.

 

V'len is really confused now. "You've not found anyone and you're giving me romantic advice?" He pulls back a bit to look at her face. "And you expect me to take it, too? Dear Cera, if I need a coach at all, I'll ask someone who knows. Someone like.... Anki!" And it's just now that the two couples swing closer, and V'len calls out to the other woman. "Anki, Cera says I shouldn't go with R'kan to his weyr. But I assume it's okay for me to take him to my weyr, no? I think he'd enjoy my mural...and I'd love to show him the throw pillows I've just finished. No harm in that, is there?"

 

Liathano has connected.

 

Cera stops dead, her face near purple now with the blush as she groans and stares at V'len.  Lowering her head, Cera whimpers.  She picks up her skirts, without another word, and turns, running for the door.  This is -NOT- a good night!

 

Arawn stifles a smirk; he shakes his head to Kishairyn, and gestures with a hand, "I wouldn't say she does THAT."  Not even a drunken Cera is as bad as /V'len/.  He pauses, and considers, glancing around, and murmurs, as the music slows, "Would you like to keep dancing?"  He nods towards Fynelox.

 

R'kan could, if anyone, throw his head back and laugh, and he does so with only a slight lean against Anki's arms. Leaning into the woman, he whispers in return, "Don't worry. I think maybe the wine was a little too much for our V'len... he'll wake up tomorrow morning and wonder why he said those things, and why there's someone hammering at his skull." Straightening his back cheerfully, he beams at V'len with the most powerful of smiles. "There's nothing wrong in seeing a few throw pillows, surely not! And a mural..." The bronzerider looks positively captivated at the idea... which will doubtless earn him a glare or two from his dancing partner.

 

Taire sweeps up to stand before Fyne, beaming brightly onto the boy of her same age. As soon as she comes to a stop her dress seems to feel the need to keep going. A strap falls over her shouler, and is quickly picked back up and put into place. Finger runs along the rim of her wine glass as she eyes him for a long moment. Quite the tense and pregnant pause before she finally finds words. "How are you doing?"

 

The orchestra stops quite abrubtly, and all remain seated.  A single apprentice remains standing, and Andrei walks to the front of the pit, pulling a stool along behind him.  Sitting down, he puts his gitar gently into his lap, and coughs a little loudly.  "Excuse me, but would anyone be interested in hearing a new composition?"

 

Kishairyn peers over at Cera and V'len, considering.  "Oh ... dear ..." she murmurs as Cera takes off.  "Do you think she'll be all right?"  She fidgets nervously, hands a-twitch before she focuses a wry smile on Arawn.  "Looks like we have a breather anyway ... but why in the world are you ..."  She spots Fynelox and flutters a blown kiss in his direction.  It just replaces "hi."

 

Liathano starts up from her seat on the bench. She must have fallen asleep...Rubbing her eyes and blinking, she manages to make sense of the harper's words and nods. "Sure! Is it yours, by any chance?" Well, obviously. Don't pay any attention to her, she's stupid when she's just woken up.....Well, more stupid than she usally is, anyway.

 

Anki wiggles her eyebrows, "A few pillows and a mural can be arranged. Perhaps a jug of mulled wine? It has salutary effects on someone's tongue, so I'm told. He'll be positively impressed." Slowing and finally halting, she peers ofer the Fortian Daisy's shoulder at Andrei, frowning slightly. She was enjoying the dance. Still, with little ill humor, she nods. "Mmm. Can I help you plan?" she stage-whispers to her...er..conspiritor?

 

Fynelox uses both hands to hold his mug, just to keep it from sloshing over the sides. No, his hands aren't shaking or getting clammy... yeah right. His eyes flick to her shoulder, maybe lingering too long on the fallen strap of her dress for a moment before snapping back up to her face. Staring into her eyes isn't exactly a comfortable view either he quickly finds out, fairly sure that no one has ever looked at him that way either. Licking suddenly dry lips, he gathers his wits and tries a reply. "I'm doing alright. Have... you been enjoying the dancing?" Is that a safe question? He's not sure. Completely nailed in place, he doesn't even notice the blown kiss from Kish. Now that's a new one. Fyne's found a threat even scarier than /her/? n.-

 

Arawn hmms, considering, as he watches Cera dart towards the door, "I hope so..."  He trails off, then shakes his head at Kishairyn, mustering a smirk as he sees her blow a kiss, instead laughing softly, and whispers to Kishairyn, "Looks like Fynelox likes her.  They'd make a cute couple."  Once Fynelox got all the knives away from Taire, that is.

 

Andrei smiles warmly at Liathano, "Yes... I did write it.  With a little help from an old love."  Since a few people seem to want to hear it...

 

Taking his gitar, tuning it gently, and clearing his throat, Andrei addresses all there.  "Greetings, lords and ladies... dragonriders... and craftsmen alike.  I shall start my round this evening with a song written a few Turns ago about a man's lost love..."  Striking the opening chords, he closes his eyes, mouth opening for the first lyrics.

 

I was lost when you found me

All I did was look into your eyes

And I felt myself come unglued

Though I tried to hang on to my lies

You don't even know how you did it

Well, to tell you the truth, nor do I

I suppose we learned it along the way

But still, for me, 'twas a surprise

 

Whilst the shells crack

Against a dragon's back

No knife could cut as deep

The thread do nothing but creep

Against my skin

As I lay still against you

 

Love was once an accursed word

To say it meant complete failure

But how was I in training to remember

When contact of our eyes occured

Were we ever starting to love

Or was it all in my own head?

I could swear you felt the same way

But it's kinda hard to ask for sure of the dead

 

Opening his eyes for a brief moment, he goes back to his gitar, strumming a few chords, adjusting himself in his seat.  Eyes twinkling slightly before they close again, Andrei beginning to sing again...

 

Whilst the shells crack

Against a dragon's back

No knife could cut as deep

The thread do nothing but creep

Against my skin

As I lay still against you

 

Even if we were never meant to be together

How can we even have a chance

If you're not here with me

How can there be a romance

I still wonder how it was you broke me

How I went from perfect soldier to lost lover

All I know is now

I could never love another

 

Menacion speaks up dryly, walking over towards Kish and Arawn.  "Likes her? More than just that, it appears.  The boy kissed her fairly thoroughly a few days ago in the baths.  And apparently she's smitten with him now."

 

Whilst the shells crack

Against a dragon's back

No knife could cut as deep

The thread do not but creep

 

With head down, and that one glass of wine in her, Cera really should be running.  She only proves this as instead of barging through the doors, Cera firmly runs into the wall next to them.  Stumbling backwards, Cera blinks a few times and stares.  "That ... hurt..." she comments dizzily.  Then, a moment later she looks around, remembering where she is... and -WHY- she was running!  Why did V'Len have to go and announce that to everyone on the dancefloor!  Humilated and embarressed, even more now that she'd run into the wall.  Cera blinks, clearing her vision, and briskly, but carefully heads for the doors.  Doors are good.  Doors are your friends.  Doors don't usually hurt you.  Usually.

Shouldn't be running.  *ahem*

 

V'len is just standing there alone on the dance floor, having been abandoned, but he smiles again at Anki's assurances. "Oh, I've been waiting to show off my mural. I had Angelo from down south come and paint it. It took him months..but the effect is astonishing." He's quite pleased now... he gets to show his new friend the roccoco tribute to himself and the Magnificent Yevgeth that was commissioned for his weyr walls. "I'm sure you've never seen anything like it." As he's speaking, he travels to the wall, arranging himself in one of those suave poses he's practiced on the sands. (It gets boring out there.)

 

R'kan whimpers at Anki, taking the suggestion with a look of horror... And a second, if doubting, glance at V'len. A lowered voice, then, "Well, I suppose he's very nice to look at... And he does have his charm if you work on it long enough..." The rider temporarily forgets his role as female of the couple, and whirls Anki into a spin--lo and behold, when she comes out, his hand's on her waist. "Oooh, help... That would be thoroughly appreciated," the bronzer says, eyes shining at the prospect of a new pursuit. One that might not be able to best him in weightlifting.

 

Taire continues to eye him, looking most haughty and superior and so very pleased with herself. Where she a feline, she'd be licking her whiskers right about now. Instead, she just opts for the licked-lips move. Mouth opens to impart something or another, only she is shut up as the harper begins upon a solo. She politely listens to the thing, but not before casting a few more glossy glances to the boy near to her. Ohhh, she could just swoon. In the meantime, she flashes Fyne another of those coy glances. "Want a sip of my wine, Fyne?" And without asking him, hand reaches over to try to wrestle his mug of juice away.

 

Rayna keeps her hidden place, absently plucking at her gitar now as she listens to Andrei play. She prefers not to play for audiences though, her last worked her up quite a bit.

 

Kishairyn is quite intent on the music for a moment before Menace's presence - and his words - draw heavily arched brows.  "What?  Without *me* to watch?" She seems positively scandalized ... not that it happened, but without her as a spectator?  "Amazing," she decides.  "They'd make a sweet pair, however." She grins at Arawn.  "Have to do that.  It's a tradition."

 

Liathano blinks her eyes rapidly, still not quite believing she managed to fall asleep in the middle of a party. With a soft sigh, she glances around to see who's still here. She winces slightly as she watches someone run into a wall, absently thinking she must have had too much wine. That doesn't stop her from taking a sip of the Benden red in her own glass, however, as she looks for someone who doesn't seem to be paired off to talk to.

 

Anki is spinned, a discreet flash of leg showing before she straightens, all starry-eyed by the possibility of them not having to deal with a distracted V'len. "Do you think he'll go for it?" she asks, almost breathless with excitement. "Oh, don't worry, R'kan. All cats are equal in the dark and he shuts up rather prettily." She leans closer to whisper an observation on V'len garnered from long-ago baths, one that sees her almost smirking with glee.

 

Andrei has disconnected.

 

Arawn blinks towards Menacion, and looks surprised, "That lad?  But he's always so shy, when I saw him..."  He sounds surprised as well, laughing softly, and nods to Kishairyn, "They do, don't they?  And well, traditions should be followed, of course."

 

Cera goes home.

 

"Apparently he felt V'len, Thanial, Ashelyn, Nonam, and myself were more than enough of an audience."  Menace replies, with a hint of a frown.  "I thought so too.  Temporary insanity, I'd say.  But judging from the look on his face, he's regained his wits."  And is frightened out of them. 

 

Fynelox protests rather weakly as Taire takes his mug away, "But..but I wasn't..done with that yet." Oh well, guess he is done with that. One sees very bad things coming from this. No good can come of this, mark my words. The harper's singing made only a small distraction for the boy, Taire's presence and rather heated glances making his heart race quite a bit. And he's so thirsty, boy he could have used the rest of the juice in the mug. "Wine, Taire? Uh, are we supposed to be drinking wine?" He's heard rather interesting things about the stuff, but familiar he is not with the drink. "Are you..alright? You've been looking at me an awful lot tonight." He peels his gaze away from hers to glance down his tunic, "Did I spill on myself or something? I have a tendency to be somewhat clumsy in public." Such simple, nonchalant words it might seem to strangers, but those who know Fyne can probably tell that for him, this is babbling.

 

V'len stifles a yawn, then smiles apologetically to his new friend. "Sometime, you'll have to come up and see my mural, no? But for now, Yevgeth is telling me rather pointedly that my duty is back on the sands. In fact, he's a bit, well, upset?" This is considered for a moment and then passed off with a shrug. "

 

V'len walks out.

 

Kishairyn bursts out laughing and shakes her head.  "Oh, I don't think little Fyne will ever be the same again," she remarks with soft amusement, making her own observations of the scene.  "Bah.  No audience is complete without me, Menace, and I'll thank you to remember that when you finally break down and kiss someone."  She inclines her head to Arawn.  "Thought you'd see it that way.  And he is shy.  Quite abomidally."  Another curious peer in the direction of the boy.

 

But he has kissed someone.

 

Taire instantly pushes forward her own nearly full glass of wine. "Here, have mine? Eh? Ohhhh, everybody has been drinkin' it, and nobody has yelled yet. Go ahead. Have at it. It'll make you feel so much better.... Relaxing." The girl continues to flutter lashes at Fynelox in some kind of sad rendition of what she sees some of the girls do to the bronzeriders. "Looking at you? Why? Can't I? There isn't anything wrong at looking at a nice looking young man now, is there?" *flutter* Again, she tries to foist off the wine on him. Ah yes, the age old, get them drunk and take advantage ploy.

 

R'kan wriggles his fingers goodbye to his new Friend, and attention returns fully to Anki, nodding with satisfaction. "I think that one responds well enough to a good ego stroking," Note: /Ego/-stroking, "and he does melt ever-so-easily." A nod to the Candidate, though perhaps misinterpreting her metaphor, smiling gently, "He does, doesn't he?" Karnie leans in, craning his ears, then eyes widen with skepticism. "You're /kidding/," the man accuses, face pulled downwards a bit. "No... Really?"

 

Anki inclines her head sagely. "I kid you not. Don't let anyone tell you that everyone that knits is an effete plaything." Pasting an attempt at an innocent smile on her lips, she points past his shoulder at poor Fyne. "Look, R'kan. Young love. Isn't it ever so sweet? Can you imagine being that young again?" she purrs, eyes hopelessly filled with stars.

 

Arawn chuckles lightly; he quips towards Kishairyn, "One can certainly hope not...being always the same, bah."  He glances over towards the little boy and the seductive (or trying to be!) Taire.  "What do you think?  Think she'll snare him?"

 

Menacion shrugs.  "I suppose he couldn't stay an innocent little boy forever." No matter how hard he tries.  "Don't hold your breath waiting, in that case, or try and follow me around."  He responds wryly.  "It isn't going to happen."  He raises a brow at Taire.  "Oh dear.  I hope she's not trying to get Fyne drunk..."

 

Kishairyn snorts softly.  "Come on, Menace.  If I'd laid bets on this candidate group, I'd have lost big:  would have pegged you for causing such a scene first."  She shakes her head, then frowns.  "Is that ... allowed?"  That ever-so-potent word.  She purses her lips then, glancing from Arawn to the pair and back again.  "Well, I wouldn't lay odds on it ..."

 

Fynelox tries not to spill the wine, that would be bad expecially if it ended up all over Taire. He peers into the glass rather skeptically for a moment before sniffing it slightly. Interesting. If there's anything Fyne needs to learn to do, that would be to relax. Highstrung young man one might say. "You don't say... well, guess there's no harm in trying." Famous last words. Looking up at Taire once more, he shrugs and manages a sheepish smile for her before lifting the glass to his lips and takes a swallow. His hazel eyes suddenly blink furiously as the alcohol takes a bite, the taste odd on his tongue. "Whoa. That's alot different than juice." The herder turned candidate still turns red at Taire's sudden mimicking of Kishairyn's usual speech to him, nothing has changed much there. He takes another sip though. "It's not bad." Warm...that's what it feels like, but that's just from blushing...right?

 

R'kan giggles at Anki, blushing prettily as he shakes his head. "Oh, shards, I wouldn't dream it. After all... even if he was a virgin before Siani, some of Yevgeth /must/ have rubbed off..." A twinkle comes in his eyes. Of course he's that perceptive. Either that, or V'len just gives too much away. Probably the latter, despite Karnie's uncanny psychich abilities--cough. Following Anki's finger, he spies the pair for a moment before snickering. "The boy looks positively panicked." Awww...

 

Arawn chuckles softly at Kishairyn, "I wouldn't know, personally, as I don't know him very well."  He nods towards Menacion, before turning back to Taire and Fynelox, nudging Kishairyn, "Look at that.  She might get him drunk."

 

Luckily for R'kan, Anki isn't quite drooling on his outfit. "They look so /sweet/! she explaims again, shaking her head as she leads the bronzer back to the Candidate knot. "Speaking of which, I have another outfit that I want you to try on. If you think you dare. Thanks for the dance, it was wonderful!" Even if she did have to lead herself. "Quick, everyone, six to one that Fyne'll blush himself to death before Taire can do anything significant!"

 

Menacion snorts.  "Me?  You definitely would have lost that bet.  I run.  Fast. I know better than to back myself into corners.  And besides...Fyne's the one who got himself into this mess."  And he'll have to get himself out.  "Nah.  I think Fyne's sure to find some escape.  All else failing, some nosy rider will probably break the two apart before..."  Menace doesn't finish the thought.

 

Taire dithers a moment before she stretches a hand out to tickle and pick at his shoulder, fingers itching to walk their way up to his neck, but not quite at that point yet. "Aye... but just keep a'drinking it, Fynelox. You'll get used to it, and then never wanna let another thing pass you lips... well, almost anything." Then comes the michevious, yet coy peep from beyond lowered lashes to him. "Ohhhh, it'll warm you fine."

 

Kishairyn chuckles softly, lifting a brow.  "Oh?  Very good idea, Menace ... I'll keep an eye out, distract anyone who might interrupt them?"  Though at first a plan, it is offered as a suggestion.  She peers at him darkly.  "One day, I will see you in a corner, and I will enjoy looking on," she predits. She hisses at Anki, "shhh!  Careful ..."  She grins at Arawn.  "He's a cute kid.  And ... so I saw.  I swear, I didn't teach her that."

 

Indeed--it would be a shame to ruin R'kan's pretty outfit at this stage in the game. "Oh, you're right... And that girl's coming on /very/ strong," he observes, grinning. "I think someone should swoop in and rescue him before she gets the lad thoroughly inebriated... Though I don't think my ministrations would be appreciated. I'd love to see her reaction, though, if some other girl went up and just danced him away." Hint hint, Anki.

 

Arawn chuckles lightly, and nods at Kishairyn, "Do that.  I'll help..."  Help distract, or help watch Menacion in a corner, it's hard to say.  He turns towards Taire, and then grins at Kishairyn, "You didn't?  Really, now?"

 

"If you're going to distract anyone, take pity on Fyne and distract Taire." Menace responds, rolling his eyes.  "You may see me in corners, but I sure won't be cornered.  I always have an escape route in mind."  Oy.  Their new obsession?  Seeing him cornered.  And the rest of him shaved.  Hardly an improvement in his circumstances.  "If Fyne looks like he's getting drunk, I think I'll drag him away.  He'll thank me for it later."

 

Fynelox flushes again, feeling alot warmer indeed. His mind flashes back to the night before, when he first felt her fingers in his hair. Oh my, yes it's getting alot warmer and oddly uncomfortable, yet somehow good all at the same time. Distractedly he takes another sip, getting used to the taste by now and not finding it all that bad at all. "I..I am feeling rather warm." His free hand comes up to tug at the collar of his tunic and he licks away the taste of wine off his lips again. "I don't mean to finish off your drink. Sure you don't want it back?"

 

Kishairyn shakes her head.  "Nope," she replies crisply, sliding to one side so as to position herself in a more advantageous location for rider watching. "Swear that girl's been drinking since before I did, so you can't blame me ..." she trails off with a wry smile.  "But this is entertaining, Menace!" she protests.  "I don't think so.  Someone will outwit you in the end, mark my words ..."

 

Arawn shakes his head slowly at Kishairyn, and grins, "I'm afraid I don't believe you," the man's tenor claims, "I think you taught her."  With this, he nudges Kishairyn again, before chuckling at Menacion, "Let the boy be, he might learn something."

 

Taire continues to look onto Fyne as if he is the sun and the moons and all the heavens all rolled up into one brilliant specimine of maleness. Rose-colored glasses and everything. Never mind the fact that it has been nearly a full turn since she has had the chance to get some good wine into her. Fingers begin to walk their way ever closer to his neck. "Ohhhh, no. Go ahead and take it all. Plenty more where that came from." Free hand comes out as if to direct the glass to his lips once more, utterly oblivious as to the scene they are creating for all and sundry to view.

 

Rayna goes home.

 

Let it never be said that Anki can't catch a hint, unfeminine block that she is. Swishing over to the two that're fascinating the other Candidates so much, she appears at Taire's side with a bright smile. "Hello there! Mind if I cut in here, Taire? Fynelox? I'd love a quick dance with you before I hie myself back to the barracks." Not to mention the fact that Taire'll find a moving target much more sporting.

 

Kishairyn smiles faintly.  "What if I gave you my word of honor I didn't teach her to try and get the poor boy drunk?" she inquires, tilting her head to one side.  Something like a crestfallen look crosses her features as Anki intercedes.  She didn't expect the scene to be broken up by one of their allies.

 

Fynelox can feel goosebumps running from his shoulders to the back of his neck, a shivery feeling that's just making thinking straight a real difficulty. Or is that the wine he's been sipping at, the glass containing only another sip or two left. He can all but hear his heart beating loudly now, drowning out alot of what Taire is saying, but he's becoming alot more facinated by the she's looking at him, leaning slightly, ever so slightly closer towards her. Then suddenly like the screech of a violin bow across untuned strings and all music coming to a halt, Anki's words cut in quite literally. The boy gives a rather nervous start, blinking up confusedly for a moment before blushing harder. Didn't think that was even possible. "Uh..what?" Ah, such eloquence. "Dance? With me? But.."

 

R'kan grins as he's abandoned on the dance floor--it went to a good cause. Fynelox is blown a good luck kiss, and the boy saunters over towards the wine, pouring a glass as he steps alongside Menacion. "Whatcha think of that?" he asks, pointing to Anki's bold move on the poor, nervous candidate. A smile goes to the goateed candie, smirking. Go Anki, go Anki.

 

Arawn stifles a laugh, and grins towards Kishairyn, "We-ell...I guess I'll believe you then."  He sniffs as Anki approaches, and murmurs to Kishairyn, "Perhaps Taire will beat her up and go back to flirting with the young lad?" One can hope?

 

"Good for her, I'd say."  Menace responds, taking a sip of his drink.  "Anki, that is.  Never thought she would have been so nice to Fyne.  Nice to know that someone else besides me thinks Taire's behavior is a little...too much." He shrugs.  "I just hope Taire takes that...calmly.  Philosophically at least."  There might be some guarding to do, after all.

 

Taire doesn't show any sign whatsoever as to responding to Anki. Oh no, now when she has dear, sweet, swoonable Fyne all to herself. Isn't he just the dreamiest? Doesn't he just put the sunset to shame? Isn't he simply the most da- With the speed of a striking snake, the ex-messenger twists her head around to regard Anki with utter and complete bafflement. Just who is she and why is she here? The woman must die. Ohhh. Wait. Its Anki. Taire immediatly swoops in closer to the herder, "Ohhh, I don't think he wants to right now, Anki. Right, Fyne?..." Voice drops to a possessive growl, "/Right/, Fyne."

 

Kishairyn smiles slightly.  "I didn't say I would, I just asked what if I did ... but I honestly don't think it was me.  After all, I never got anyone drunk."  Which apparently makes a logical conclusion, to her.  She shakes her head at Menacion's words, "oh, I think Taire is just ..."  Growling?  Her eyes widen, brows swooping upwards.  "Maybe you have a point," she concedes.

 

Arawn blinks, and blinks again.  He peers at Taire, and murmurs to Kishairyn, "I think the poor boy's in trouble.  If I were him, I'd probably just go along."

 

Anki folds her arms over her chest, smile positively beaming at Taire. "Come on, you can have him back again later." When he's sober. "I promise to bring him back in one piece and with all the proper bits intact." Makes Fyne sound like one of those U-Assemble kits, doesn't she? "Please, Fyne," she implores sweetly. "Just a quick whirl and I can go home clutching my laurels."

 

Liathano has disconnected.

 

"Clutching your whats?" Fyne blurts, just a little loudly, sounding like he's definitely mishearing things and most definitely a little sloshed here. Can't expect a fourteen turn old to have that much of an alcohol tolerance. His cheeks are burning, and the thought of escape crosses his mind again, but he's sort of fenced in here, particularly since Taire's all but smack up against him. The growling sort of cuts into his haze like a knife though, suddenly feeling cold down to his toes. Hoo boy. "Uh..Uh.. Right, uh.. Taire. I mean..I don't know how to dance. Not well." He's seen it and some of the dancing is simple, but he really hasn't danced before. Hazel eyes are fastened to the younger girl again, slightly shaken.

 

Menacion eyes the three in the corner.  "Taire looks to be getting very possessive.  Poor Fyne.  I hope they don't rip his arms out of their sockets trying to get him for their own."  Menace would intervene on Fyne's behalf, but he's not suicidal.  Bad Move, Fyne.  Pleading terspichorean ignorance is just going to get you lesson offers.  Quite possibly private lesson offers.

 

Taire is suddenly feeing the desire to have a long, pointy object in her hand... and there it is -with Menacion. Knife, sword... its all good. Eyes narrow and aquire that feline lilt which is surprisingly effective despite this newly aged fifteen-turn old's face, and most of this evil, fairly intoxicated, glare is cast onto Anki in all her jovial cheerfullness. If she had claws, nails, whatever... she would be embedding them in Fyne's hide. Mine. "See," she purrs to Anki. "He is perfectly happy where he is and we are getting along rather well." In the next moment, the girl is swinging to slide her slight figure before Fyne in an attempt to block any Anki-influence. Her gaze seeks out Fyne's, "I'd be happy to teach you how to dance, Fynie." Oh dear, now she has resorted to claiming endearments. "And you don't have to worry 'bout any clutching around /her/."

 

Anki smoothes her skirt. "I'll teach you how, Fyne," she murmers restfully. After all, her target is to get the poor boy somewhat sober, not to embarass him by making him prance about with an older woman. "I'm sure you can spare him for a few moments, Taire, can't you?" she asks evenly.  "After all, near-sisters should share everything, right?" Right. That, theoretically, includes Fyne. Tickling the poor man's ear, she bends over to whisper something only the two closest to her can hear and, smirking, stalks away, humming happily.

 

Kishairyn gulps in a swift breath that sounds suspiciously as if she's going to burst out laughing.  "What do you think?  Should I hit one of them with a vase?" she murmurs, then pauses.  And the question becomes, "which one?"  And where in the world is she going to find a vase strong enough to do real damage?  She winces.  "I don't think Fyne understood that ..." she mutters to Arawn.

 

Anki whispers "If you do decide to take lessons from her, sweetheart, just do it someplace private, okay? We can't have to sent back home /now/." to you and Fynelox.

Stifling a chuckle, Arawn nods towards Kishairyn, "I don't either."  Oh, great. Does that make Anki and Taire, /Aiel/?  Now who's going to lay a bridal wreathe and who's feet?  Buuuut, stopping with that anachronistic line of thought, Arawn simply continues to blink, and grins at Kishairyn, "I think you should just leave it be."

 

R'kan finds a seat, pulling a chair next to Menace and joining the rest of the spectators in making quiet jibes. "I don't think Anki would resort to that... Though it looks as if she might be able to overpower Taire, if the occasion presented itself." Hmm. There's the weight advantage, versus the... um... temptress advantage. R'kan, admittedly, doesn't know which one gets more points.

 

Menacion ponders that.  "I think there's enough potential for violence there without you inserting a vase into the mess.  You just might inspire imitations, and we don't want to wreck the harperhall, now do we?"  He thinks for another moment.  "Well, Taire's the one he kissed.  I'd say that gives her a considerable advantage there.  Or maybe it's her great handicap."

 

Kishairyn makes a face at Menace.  "Really, a girl could be insulted by the sort of things you say ..."  She regards him with soft ire for a moment ... but she has bigger fish to fry.  She grins at R'kan.  "I doubt it.  Taire seems to be a dirty fighter if ever there was one."  On the other hand, she has seen Anki bite someone.  She sighs.  "I suppose you're right, Arawn, but what I wouldn't give to be a voice in one of their ears."  That is, unheard by the other.

 

Taire's jaw actually drops at Anki's words, at least those that are whispered. They have a sobering effect on the girl more effective than any other home-brew. Eyes open as wide as marks and in the flash of an eye, she is backing away from Fyne as if he was some kind of bane to her very soul. "Shaffit!" She isn't mad about being 'found out', its just having her intentions spelled out to her in such a way and realizing them. Its the Weyr. Corrupter that it is. It simply has to be. Mortified, and just now peeking up to spot all the faces turned their way, the girl manages a squeek, a brilliant shade of red taints her cheeks, and she considers just dying then and there. Just /what/ was she thinking? "I... Uh... I..." Stammering makes way for a desire to bolt.

 

Fynelox isn't fairing much better, flushing red again, but that's not unusual. Just because he's finally and awkwardly starting to discover the troubles that hormones can bring doesn't mean that he's going to change completely overnight. But yes, Anki's words are somewhat sobering and it's with some relief that he finds Taire backing off a bit. Yet there's a slight hint of disappointment there too. Just a little. "What's wrong with dancing lessons?" That's the part he didn't get. Doh.

 

Anki strides slowly back to her companions, a beatific smile on her face. "As hinted, so do I obey," she coos dulcetly, sinking down into a chair, peering at the fruits of her labor and finding it good. "Arawn, can you hand me a glass of that sparkle-wine if there's any still left? I think our dear, innocent Fyne will be staying just that for a few more days, at the least." She sighs lazily. Mission accomplished.

 

Menacion looks innocent.  "Me?  Insult women?  I would never do such a crass thing."  Gee, he seems to be annoying most of the women tonight.  One brow lifts, then the other at the reactions to Anki's comment.  "I...don't want to know..."

 

R'kan nods to Kishairyn, then raises a brow at the newest happenings and grinning at Menacion at the bout of Taire stuttering. "I was wrong," the man admits, giggling a little. "She," he points to Taire, "and he," of course, a finger jabbed in Fyne's direction, "are made for each other. The same nervous stammering and everything," he says, grinning. "Depends on what kind of dancing she had in mind!" the rider calls over. No sense no driving the stake in a little deeper.

 

Onili steps through the double doors into the auditorium.

 

Taire continues to look rather abashed before the others, fingers plucking at the scraggly threads that are beginning to peel away from her dress. As teeth bite at the bottom of her lip, she moves to ease out the door for a hasty retreat -but not before snagging a skin of wine to tide over her being rather mortified.

 

Fynelox comes home.