Living Cavern (#400)

Flawlessly carved archways highlight the uniform walls that extend upwards into the cavern's near total darkness above.  The night hearth abides beside the largest egress, while along the northern span a handcarved staircase ascends into the kitchens.  To the east a dais supports the long Weyrleaders' table; smaller table-boards align the walls nearby.  The heart of the room is distinguished by gray flagstone flooring, whose skillfully interlocking slabs have been worn level by the passage of countless bootheels through the ages.

You see Wing Assignment Board, Scrumptious Buffet Table, and Death here.

Gabriela is here.

Obvious exits:

Bowl   Lower Caverns   Tunnel   Kitchen   Game Room

Aryion comes in from the bowl.

Kishairyn comes in from the bowl.

Gabriela goes home.

 

Aryion ducks into the living cavern, dusting snow off of his jacket and gloves. Laughing he turns back as Kisha enters. "See now wasn't that fun. And you didn't get all that wet by the snow either." He strips off his gloves, placing them on the table by his fellow candidates, grins at everyone, and heads to the refreshment table. "Kisha? Do you want me to grab you a mug of something?" He calls over his shoulder as he pours himself a mug of hot klah.

 

Navin trumpets as he enters from the icy between. A chill breeze follows him.

 

Navin swoops low and lands next to Aryion. Churple. Foot extended.

 

Taire is settled with one hip propped up against one of the many tables, a rather tattered rag in her hand that as it swipes haphazardly along the top of one, leaves a wet streak and a not so clean trail. She is supposed to be cleaning, but obviously her heart is settled on othere manner -which are given hit with the dazed look to her eyes. Nothing like a good daydream to spice up the mundane in chores.

 

Lyrn comes in from the bowl.

 

Kishairyn settles into a chair, limbs draped in all directions.  "Would you, Aryion?" she drawls, though she sounds grateful enough ... even if it does look as if she's just going to dissolve into a puddle.  "Hello, Taire," she greets, eyes closed, head lolled towards the ceiling.  Don't try to get her to move:  it probably won't work.

 

Lyrn slinks into the lower caverns, her hair a bit mussed as if she's been asleep.  Her cold glare crosses the room just as it always does, first over Kishairyn, whom she has met, and then two others, who are unfamiliar.  One hand glides over her hair in an effort to smooth it, and the other goes behind her back.  She came to get a drink...she hadn't realized there'd be other people here.

 

Aryion grabs his mug if klah and a second one for Kisha, before heading back to the table. He sits and looks up just as Navin emerges from between. He watches the flit land and takes the scrape of hide that has 'Read Soon' inscribed on it. After reading it he lets out and excited whoop before responding back on the hide and reattaching it to Navin's leg. "Go back to Zeya boy." He leans back, eyes dancing, and turns toward Kisha. "Kish, just found out that Zeya got promoted to Sr. Appy. Pretty neat huh?" He's excited for his friend even if no one else is. "Hi Taire, whatcha doing?" Oh wait.. he is supposed to be mad at her.

 

Murkat comes up from the lower caverns.

 

Navin leaps in to the air and in an instant is gone. Into the chill nothingness he goes.

 

Taire hesitates in her table-swiping, blinking her eyes at the new entrants and the breath of cold air that comes in with them. She turns her head to Kishairyn, smiling faintly, "Ohhh, hey there? What have you been up to?" Aryion? Ignored. Once more. Like usual. Imagine that? The silent treatment for this girl? Will wonders never cease?

 

Kishairyn breathes out a sigh, hooking her hands behind her head.  "Me?  About six feet and some ... oh, you mean doing?  Chores, chores and more chores, gawking at eggs, swooshing around in the snow, not getting snowballs thrown at me, thank you very much."  She acquires her klah mug from Aryion without even opening her eyes, even as she grins.  "Well, many congratulations to her. Halfway free of drudgery, no?"

 

Lyrn waits until she thinks that everyone is looking the other way before she strides over to the refreshments and carefully pours herself a mug of klah. She drinks it there, sipping quickly so that she can drink it and get back to the dorms without incident.  As she does so, she takes a closer look at each of the Fortians, (or at least, she assumes they're Fortians).

 

Murkat comes striding into the caverns, for once, his arms empty of anything work related. Instead one hand holds a large bowl of greens and the other a mug of klah. Picking through the tables, he finds one that's relatively dry and somewhat clean. A nod goes around, "Kish, Taire, Aryion. How is everyone today?" The new person is noted and another nod is given. "Good day to you as well."

 

Aryion yawns and stretches, "Playing out in the snow is very trying." He groans slightly, "I just remembered I still have to muck out some of the stalls in the stables." He continues drinking his klah, pondering the Taire issue. A nod is given to Murkat as he enters the room and sits at the table. "Not bad, been having a little fun in the snow." Raising his steaming mug, "trying to warm up some now."

 

Kishairyn sits up with evident effort, groaning softly as she opens her eyes. "Oh ... hey, Lyrn," she greets the woman with a twiddle of her fingers.  "Glad to see you back ..."  She musters a lazy smile for Murkat.  "Exhausted," she says with a faint trace of (fake) mournfulness in her voice.  "But I'll be back on my feet in a little while."

 

Taire swishes the cloth about the table a few more times just to look as though she is actually accomplishing something. Murkat is noticed, and a bright smile flashes most immediately. All thoughts of Ary are banished as she continues to look upon the Steward with sparkling eyes that but a breath before where hazy with obvious boredom. "Hey, Murkat... how are ya today?"

 

Lyrn grows stiff instantly, setting down her half-empty mug of klah with a start.  "I am fine." she says simply, forcing herself to shrug. "How goes it with you?" Her gaze falls across Kishairyn, the familiar person, to whom she replies "And I am...glad to see you too."  In truth, she would be glad to get back to her cot, but it would be good for her to at least learn a few names. That way she won't be completely helpless in the next social situation she gets herself into.

 

Murkat looks surprised at the smith's words. "It's snowing?" Goes to show how much he actually gets out of the Weyr. He snickers softly at Kish as he tries to look mournful. "Oh you poor thing. Are you alright? Do you need anything?" As he finally sits, the bowl is set down on the table in front of him and the mug is focused on. Wonderful klah, how would he ever manage to work without it. "I'm good, tired but good." As the stranger speaks, he turns back to her. "Good to hear. Come, join us. I'm Murkat." Title is purposely left off as today he seems a lot more laid back than normal.

 

One eyebrow raises suspiciously at Taire's change in attitude toward the steward, but Aryion says nothing. With a small shrug that is barely noticeable, he turns to the one person at the table he doesn't know. "Hello there, just missed you earlier, m'names Aryion." He gives Lyrn a smile and a friendly nod. He glances back toward Murkat, "yup, winds have swept the snow up into some nice sized snow banks."

 

Kishairyn sits up rather sharply at Taire's greeting, though she checks herself before the curious state becomes too evident, contenting herself rather with a level inspection.  "What have they got you doing today, Taire?" she wonders. An amused smirk flickers across her features at Lyrn's words, and tips an imaginary hat.  "Hope you're all settled in, and all."  She turns a weak smile on Murkat.  "I think I'm beyond help."  She closes her eyes for a second. "It's quite lovely, where it hasn't been kicked up into mud," she adds to Aryion's words.

 

Taire drops into a seat near to Murkat, purposely. Notice that she glances to Aryion as this is accomplished, complete with that dragon that ate the wherry grin. That soppy, snarky rag of hers is slapped upon the table and left ot just sit there and dry up and hopefully wither away. She glances to Kisha, "Eh? Ohhh, I suppose its something important, but the point seems to have escaped me now." For that matter what was she even doing? A shoulder-shrug follows as she glances to the newcomer, having never come across his soul before. New. But looks okay. Lyrn doesn't get too many narrow-eyed looks.

 

Fynelox comes up from the lower caverns.

 

Lyrn places one foot carefully before the other, measuring each step as she always does as she reluctantly moves towards the fortians.  "Pleased to meet you, Murkat.  I am Lyrn." she says shortly, nodding to acknowledge him.  A smirk plays across her face for no reason in particular...or at least, no reason that she feels like sharing.  "I am pleased to meet all of you, in fact." Despite her friendly intentions, she cannot force warmth into her voice, and the statement is tinged with sarcasm.  Hm.  She'd have to work on that.

 

Well in that case, this Steward is going to have to find some time to get outside and enjoy the weather. "Snow is always so much fun." He remarks more to himself than anything else, all the while nursing his slowly cooling mug. As the rag and messenger plop down beside him, he moves to push the rag further away from his plate. Not exactly appetizing, not that he seems to be eating anyways. "Eh, whatever it is, it's probably not that important anyways, though I'm sure it has something to do with that rag." He eyes Lyrn for a moment before responding, "Well met Lyrn." And that is all that is said to her before returning to more important things...like food and drink.

 

Aryion can't help but notice where Taire sits, or who she takes a seat by. Okay so be it. He shrugs slightly before taking another sip of klah, and after removing a charm from beneath his tunic, begins caressing it idly. "Well met Lyrn," he says replying to the girl. "Aye, the air is crisp, and aside from the snow on the ground, the sky is clear. Quite a nice day out actually." He smiles at Murkat, ignoring Taire, and continues to sip from his steaming mug.

 

Kishairyn laughs and shakes her head.  "I've said it before and I'll say it again," she says, losing her semblance of exhaustion with suspicious speed, "it's all busy-work, and it might as well just not be done." She studies Lyrn with a skeptical air, but nods once.  Not bad, really.  "Maybe she's supposed to make a tunic out of the rag?" she ponders, stretching.  "Nice ... if you ignore the fact that the temperature can freeze your fingers off."

 

Taire eyes Lyrn with yet more of that wariness at the tone of voice. And being the rather unhindered soul that she is, is quick to speak up, "Who are you?" She doesn't mean the name, she means just the basic reason for being here sort of thing. Nothing personal. Lyrn is just new. Murkat's plate of food is eyed and without a further ado, the girl reaches over as it to pick off something or another from his plate that isn't green. "Aye, Murkat. There is actually snow out there. It isn't at all like they show on the tapestries -its far more fun when you can actually touch it. Did you know that you can actually hold it in your hand, ball it up, and throw it at another person for /fun/. Its a shame Xanadu doesn't get it."

 

Fynelox ducks into the living caverns rather quickly, teeth chattering audible even at a distance. Yep, there's snow outside, that's for sure. Why was he out there in the first place? Hrm. There's a fine dusting of snow in his hair, wetting it which doesn't help, but that might explain why he sprints for the hearth and holds his hands out to the flames. "It's cold out there!" Just where has he been anyway? Fyne has been notably scarce of late, disappearing every so often and only showing up when he can't avoid chores.

 

Lyrn nods to everyone in turn, but remains quiet.  Snow and freezing temperatures aren't unfamiliar to her.  And then, one asks a question...prompting her to speak up.  As much as she would like to ignore it, it most certainly wouldn't be the proper thing to do.  "I am here because I've simply grown tired of being holdless.  Trudging after my father and his sharding burdenbeasts all over the continent without shelter was not how I wanted to spend the rest of my life." and that's the truth.  She probably wouldn't have minded so much if they had been in Southern...where /at least/ the weather was decent, but up here it was just ridiculous.

 

Ashelyn comes up from the lower caverns.

 

Murkat attempts to slap the messanger's hand as she steals from his plate. Not that he's probably going to eat it, it's all principle you see. A chuckle escapes his lips as he listens to her as well as listening for a response from Lyrn. "Yes, I know. I grew up around here, well before I went south that is." Snow is something he's used to and really holds no special place to him, other than it's pretty. As Lyrn speaks, he just watches and listens, still saying nothing else to her.

 

Aryion finishes off his mug, stands and retrieves a pitcher of fresh klah. As he passes Fyne at the hearths he offers the boy a small grin. "Aye that it is. We were out playing in the snow earlier." He returns to the table and offers refills to everyone before sitting back down. Turing to Lyrn, "I grew up here in the north, but have spent the last two turns in the south. The weather has been easy enough to get used to again thought."

 

Kishairyn shudders.  "I'm sure Murkat knows all about snowball fights, Taire," she might be heard to mutter under her breath, "most of us do, to our everlasting horror ..."  She blinks over at Fynelox.  "What, really?  You mean it isn't terribly warm, Fyne?  You didn't feel the urge to strip and strut around in nothing at all to relieve the heat?"  As if the words hadn't even been said, she focuses intently on Lyrn.  "Can't imagine anyone who would," she commiserates.

 

Ashelyn comes in from the steward's office, work now done for the day.  Moving quietly about, she manages to take a mug of klah and take a seat at a table not too far away from the candidates.  A slight nod of respect is directed to Murkat, and a friendly wave goes to Kishairyn and Taire.  An unconscious shiver shakes Ashelyn lightly at the further mention of cold and snow. 

 

Taire bobs her head in understanding to Lyrn. Sure, that'll work for this one. "Ahhh." That sound would prolly be considered an acceptance of sorts. "You ain't of trader blood, are you?" Bit of food is popped into her mouth moments after she gets swiped at. In retaliation, the girl moves as if to smack at the hand that tried to slap at her own. Yes, its that principle idea once again. Ohhh, look. There is Fyne. She waves her other hand to the boy in greeting. No, not a flirty greeting or anything of the sort. Just your Joe Average sort of wave. Head turns from Murkat to Kishairyn, "Whats so bad about snowball fights? I got into one just the other day. Totally puts mud wrestling to shame, it does." I'm sure thats a matter of opinion though. Ashelyn gets a bob of the head and a twinkling smile. That one is okay.

 

Lyrn falls quiet, having nothing more to say, she simply folds her arms and watches the others make conversation.  A yawn is suppressed discretely before it even becomes visible on her face, but is immediately disrupted by Taire's new question.  Raised eyebrows are her first answer, for as usual, it takes her a few moments to think of a suitable reply.  "No, I am not.  I believe my mother was Bitran.  She met my father after...a gather." She pauses again, scratching her chin, "Anyway, my father waited around until I was born, then took me with him." A simple explanation for a complicated story, but it'd have to do.  Lyrn wasn't in the mood to condone probing, and if that information wasn't enough for the Weyrfolk, they'd half to do some investigating on their own.

 

Aryion smiles as Ashelyn enters, and he quickly looks around for something.. "Oh wait, Ashelyn, I need to go and get a snowball to throw at you.. just stay right there." He makes a movement like he is going to get up, but, decides against it, sitting back and laughing in his chair instead. He takes a few more drinks of klah, and simply sits back and enjoys the company.

 

Murkat shakes his head to clear it as he comes back to what's going on around him. The attempted smack is noted, but he does nothing about it. "Hey Aryion, can you pass that pitcher down when you finish with it?" He needs a refill. "Snowball fights are fun. There's nothing like being out playing in the snow and then coming back to a warm hearth and a hot cup of mulled wine." Not that he has that much time to play in the snow anymore. Work tends to keep him hopping. The Assistant Steward is noted and nodded to.

Fynelox is apparently tired because yes, he does flop over in front of the hearth and curls up already asleep.

 

With another yawn, Lyrn waves stiffly.  "I'm going back to the dorms." she grunts, absently rubbing an eye.  "I shall see you all later, I suppose?" This is said in the form of a question, but without waiting for an answer, she claps her hands behind her back and shuffles quickly from the room.

 

Lyrn heads deeper into the Weyr's lower caverns.

 

Kishairyn flashes a smile of greeting to Ashelyn.  "Hey ..." she calls over, sinking deep into the chair again and tucking her limbs beneath her.  "Mmm ... I could stay here forever ..."  She wrinkles her nose at Taire.  "They're cold.  And snowballs sting when they hit."  She grins wryly.  "Just seems like a painful way to get frostbite, to me."  She squints after Lyrn, a thoughtful look in her eyes.  "Unusual sort of man, that.  Unusual girl, too."  Intrigue hovers in her voice:  she sounds as if she fully intends to investigate.

 

Ashelyn raises an eyebrow at Aryion, smiling sweetly.  "Aye, go fetch one Aryion.  I'll not miss thist time either."  A small grin and klah is drank rather quickly.  Ashelyn listens to the steward's words and wonders just /when/ was the last time he got out.  With a shrug, she goes back to the conversation.  Ashelyn tilts her attention towards Taire.  "What's wrong with trader blood?"  Just a question as Ashe isn't one to anger quickly.  The Assistant Steward grins at Kishairyn's inquisitive nature and has no doubt in its abilities, but Ashe intends on talking to Lyrn herself once she finds a free moment, just being friendly. 

 

Taire continues to pick from Murkat's plate of food, because.... well, he isn't objecting too much and she is a bit hungry. All that standing around doing nothing can give a person hunger paings that'd tip a bovine over. Errr, prolly the wrong choice of example. How about... send a Cat to nibble on greens? Anywho, she is picking at the Steward's plate. Lyre is granted a hearty nod of understanding as she leaves, 'til Murkat had to go and speak up again. That words is spoken and immediately leapt upon. "Ohhh, then lets go outside, have a bit of a snow fight where I pound the snot out of Aryion, and then we'll come back in and you can serve us wine, Murkat. That sounds like a fine idea." Ashelyn gets a most increduluous look, and then a beaming smile, "Absolutely nothing. Its my opinion that them Lords 'n Ladies ain't got nothing on it."

 

Aryion tops of his mug and passes the pitcher down to Murkat. He beams over at Ashelyn, "well that I could, but I'd rather miss and hit Fyne to wake the poor boy up." He gives the sleeping herder a glance, then returns his attention to the his mug chuckling softly. One eyebrow rises at Taire's words. "I don't think that sounds like a good idea. I finally got my sided mended from the dance a while back." Turing back to Murkat, "Aye, after a cold day outside, a warm hearth and a good mug of something hot really hits the spot."

 

Murkat absently pushes the plate toward the messenger for it's obvious that she's far more hungry than him. He'll be content with just his klah. "They only sting for a moment Kish. Besides, if you dress warmly enough, you shouldn't be getting cold." The last is followed with a slightly stuck out tongue. "Oh really Tarie? But I dunno. I really wouldn't want to hurt you, and I always play to win." As the pitcher comes down to him, he tops of his mug.

 

Kishairyn tilts her head back.  "Taire's right," she says, "Trader blood, in my considered opinion ..." the flashed grin somewhat belies the haughty tone of the words "... is the noblest stuff on Pern.  Worth bottling and selling, but you'd find the traders get awful uppity if you try."  She leans forward on her elbows.  "I'd be happy to watch that," she says with a wry smile.  "Leave Fynelox alone," she warns Aryion, bristling ever so slightly.  "Poor little mite needs his rest."  Let Taire not worry, if she still would:  she's just being motherly, so much as Kish has any more maternal instinct than your average rock.  "And if you do dress warmly, you feel like a waddling globe," she points out wryly.  "Though I guess it does sting more if your opponents are mashing pebbles into the snowballs."  She knew some *mean* people.

 

Ashelyn looks to the sleeping Fynelox, then back at Aryion.  "Aye, leave the boy alone."  Ashelyn being kindhearted?  That's a first in a while.  She nods in agreement to Kish and Taire.  "Lords and Ladies are usually not even worth their weight in dirt."  One of the few, very /few/ times Ashelyn is actually proud of her heritage.  "I think a snowball fight would be great fun."  Ashe would never give up a chance to pelt Murkat in the head with one.  Great fun!

 

Taire instantly helps herself to Murkat's plate, munching away and glancing askance to him, "Sure you don't want any?" But, you know, it just means more for her. Aryion gets a rather obvious eye-roll, "Oh, Puh-lease. If'n I were to give you a smooch on the nose, what would you do? Cry out that I bit you or something?" Fingers pick out some more food from the plate and then popping it into her mouth. After a bit of chewing, Murkat is eyed once more, "Wanna make a wager on that, my friend? I'd have you down in the snow so fast your head would spin."

 

Aryion sticks his tongue out at Kisha, "oh like I would really do anything to the kid. He is just too innocent for his own good. Oh both of you two leave off, I'm not going to do nothing to Fyne." A shocked expression crosses his face at Taire's comment. "Now why would you want to do something stupid like that? The blow the other night was well earned, that I grant you, but, where has the rest of this hostility come from?" His eyes are inflamed with tightly held emotion, but, he manages to restrain from yelling, his words simply coming out in a slightly hostile, yet normal sounding tone of voice. He finishes his mug in one gulp before asking Murkat nicely if he could pass the pitcher back down the table.

 

Anki comes up from the lower caverns.

 

Murkat shakes his head at the weaver. "You don't have to dress /that/ warmly. It's not that cold." At least not for someone who grew up in it. He echoes Ashelyn's comment. His only run in with a lord and lady didn't go all that well, seeing as he was wrongfully imprisoned. Head shakes at the offer of food from his own plate. At the comment, an eyebrow raises. "Oh really? And just how would you manage that?" This he just has to hear. With a nod, he sends the pitcher back down toward the smith before rising and heading over to the refreshment table. Time to change to something a little stronger. Pouring a cup of mulled spice wine, he sips it before heading back to the table and retaking his seat.

 

Kishairyn utters a muffled cheer for Ashelyn's words, bringing her hands together in soft applause.  "Hear, hear.  And not as if anyone would bother weighing them against dirt, anyway."  She coughs into her hand.  Personally, she thinks Taire is more likely to bite him on the nose than smooch him, but this is kept to herself.  She shakes her head.  "I would not put it past you to hit Fynelox with a snowball," she says with a sniff.  "I'm sorry, Aryion, but I just can't trust you that far."  She shrugs a shoulder to Murkat. "True," she says, "unless you're planning to roll around in wet snow.  Then ... it *does* get cold."

 

Ashelyn watches those about, listening to the comments.  Mayhaps the candidates aren't so bad afterall.  Aside from the one, but his absence is a joy to Ashelyn at the moment.  "Taire, I'd pay ya a mark or two if you could take down Murkat so easily."  A jesting grin is flashed to Murkat.

 

Rumtadah! Anki enters. Lucky little rabble. Strolling to the knot of Candidates she slips into a chair and grabs the apparent subject by the hair. "Has Murkat turned into a bovine that we have to tip?" she asks innocently, much more cheerful now. The klah-sludge really helped.

 

Taire quickly reaches a hand out to belay any further movement of the pitcher. In fact, she holds it hostage. Too bad for Aryion. She smiles happily to Murkat at his challenge, "Would you like to find out? I'd be more than happy to show you." And she seems most earnest in her words. She sleeping Fyne is hardly even acknowledged. They can snowball him to their heart's delight or protect the boy. He is like yesterday's bubblies to her. Kicked to the midden heap. Dropped in the ash pits. In other words, she dumped him. He is cute. But you know... fickle is woman. Ashelyn's wager earns an eyebrow-raise, "I'll just take you up on that." And then she finally turns to Aryion, that challenging glance directed full force on him. "Hostile? You think I'm being hostile?" The girl moves to stand, pitcher in hand. "No. I'm not hostile... and neither is this." And without further ado, the girl makes as if to actually hurl the contents of the pitcher in Aryion's direction.

 

Aryion kindly points out to Kisha, "you know, I had plenty of chances to smack you with a snowball when we were out in the bowl. Did I not honor your request to /not/ throw one at you?" Don't question his honor, that is one thing that Ary will always defend whole-heartily. He eyes Taire narrowly as she captures the pitcher and holds it hostage. Eyes widen as he watches the girl pick up the pitcher, about ready to throw. "Hold it right there Taire, don't you dare!" Ary jumps up and dashes around the table, a closer target perhaps, but also closer to retaliating if something does happen.

 

"I am not a bovine, and I certainly don't need tipping." the steward says huffily. Ashelyn is given an attempted glare, but it kind of falls flat in the process. Returning to his wine, he sips it slowly, savoring the flavor. "You know Taire, I'd love to, but I'm in the middle of enjoying my wine right now. Sorry." Nothing's going to budge him from that seat. Including the...display that's going on in front of him. Should be interesting to watch how it turns out.

 

Kishairyn is perfectly angelic.  She lays her hands folded along the surface of the table, her expression serene.  "Oh, this I have to see," she murmurs.  She flashes a grin over at Anki.  "Sure is.  Want to lull him to sleep so we can tip him?"  She yelps and ducks down at Taire's mocked move.  "Watch it!"  She blinks at Aryion as if startled.  "Yes, you did," she replies, "but I wasn't sleeping at the time."  She concludes this as if it makes every bit of sense.

 

Ashelyn shakes her head, standing up.  "Children!"  A mother could not have been more firm.  "Dear Taire, now no embarrassing anyone." -A wink is given to Aryion- "And I'd hate to waste perfectly good klah."  A smile is offered to both Aryion and Taire.

 

Ohhh, lookie. He came closer. Aryion makes a nice and giant target and Taire isn't about to let this sort of situation fall away without capitalization. Her eyes glint with quite the light that has absolutely nothing to do with that which comes from the fires or glowlights. Nope, its all her, no matter that rather angelic face and cavernous dimples. And with deliberate slowness, pitcher is upended at the smith as she speaks, "I dare."

 

Anki reaches over to pat Murkat on the arm. "Don't worry. We won't tip. Hard." Stretching, she grimaces. "Now that I'm more or less awake, what /is/ the topic on the table at the moment? Not chores, I hope. I think my internal clock's running down." Eyes flicker back and forth between Taire and Aryion. She's not asking.

 

Aryion mission is clear. So what is a little hot klah, he can always take a bath, sides, he is still a little chilled from being outside. He stands there and lets the small girl poor the pitcher over his head. "Thanks, I needed that, and you need this." He suddenly reaches for Taire, grabs her before she has a chance to move away, and promptly tosses her over his shoulder. A wicked grin is cast to the rest of the table as he holds the fighting girl down with one large arm and wipes his klah stained hair out of his eyes. "Taire, m'dear, you did it, I'll give ya that, but, you are also going to get what you deserve. I do believe that a nice dunk in a snow drift might cool ya off." Turning on one heel he head straight out to the nearest snowdrift at the entrance to the cavern and tosses Taire into it. He returns to his seat, a smug look on his face.

 

Murkat's hand goes up as the assistant moves to stop the two, then waves her back. Basically it says to just let them at each other. Besides, should prove entertaining and then can even clean it up after they're done. And he's not disappointed. Since taire seems to be...indisposed, he picks up the rag off the table and tosses it at Aryion. "Here Aryion, you'll need this to mop up the spilt klah." With that, he's done as far as that topic is concerned. He'll leave it to them to clean up. "Topic? Whatever happens to pop up basically. Talking about snow earlier, but that wasn't as interesting as watching the two here engaging in their mating dance."

 

Kishairyn bursts out into choking laughter at Murkat's last comment, elbows landing hard and slipping precariously across the table.  "Their ... Aryion, Taire?" she inquires, voice rich with mirth.  "Why, I never knew ... never would have guessed ..."  She fires off a waved salute to Anki.  "Seems as if we're pairing off, two by two.  Hurry, before you're left with V'len."

 

Ashelyn nods to Murkat and backs down, suppressing a big of laughter at Aryion and Taire.  She catches a bit of Murkat's answer about topics and turns a curious face.  "So who caught P'tala's green?"  This whole busy thing tends to leave one out of the loop.

 

Adonis comes in from the bowl.

 

Taire returns from the snowbank, dripping and shivering and looking quite miserable. She isn't sputtering. She isn't bawling. And she isn't screeching. In fact, she returns looking rather bland in the face, but hands are wrapped about her middle. Teeth bite at her bottom lip for a long moment, but there is a glimmer to eyes once more. A choke... titter... and then the giggles and laughter ensue. You all didn't think she would be mad, would you? Nope. Still shivering, she turns laughing eyes onto her snowbank thrower. "Ohhhh, that was a right good one, Aryion." She nudges him as she brushes past and continues to reclaim her seat. Figure that one out.

 

Anki sighs softly. "No, thanks. I don't want to be paired up with anyone. You lot go dance, I'll sit on the sidelines and play wallflower." Drawing her legs up to her chest, she folds her arms around them. The prospect of going stag doesn't seem to bother her that much. She transfers her gaze to Ashelyn, tilting her head. "I've got to know, who made that liquid sludge that was passed off for klah in the kitchens? I think I really should get the recipe."

 

Aryion sputters at Murkat's words. "Mating dance, I /don't/ think so. Thanks for the rag by the way." After getting most of the klah wiped up from himself, he uses it to clean up the rest of the pitcher, stuff that either missed him or dripped off. An evil glare goes to Kisha, "Don't guess.. there is no guessing." After returning to his seat, and pulling his now klah stained hair back into a runners tail, he looks over at Murkat. "Yes, I head something about that flight, was stuck in the stables when it occurred. What happened?" A grin and a sly wink is given to Taire as she returns, "Taire, do you need a cloak or something? I know how cold it is out there, in fact," the smith takes off his jacket and offers it to the slightly shivering girl. "Here, you can return it to me later, might smell a bit like klah.. but.. at least it is warm."

 

Murkat shakes his head at Ashelyn as he winks at Kish. "I'm not quite sure Ash, you'd have to ask someone else." As the messenger returns, he moves his seat slightly further away from her's. She's now wet and cold, and he's warm and dry and would like to stay that way. Wine is returned to as she simply watches and listens. That is after all, how one stays ahead.

 

Kishairyn blinks quizzically at Murkat for a moment, then grinned.  "You scare me," she accuses him.  "Don't know, Ashelyn.  Just heard some names bantered about as being in the forerunning ... who knows who actually caught."  She smiles faintly at Aryion.  "Oh, but I think you and Taire would be positively adorable doing a mating dance ..."  She flashes a salute to Taire, taking that one's reaction in stride.  "How's the snow?  And Anki, it's not dancing, it's ... well, maybe it is dancing, but not the same kind," she amends.

 

Thanial comes up from the lower caverns.

 

Taire gratefully takes the offered jacket, casting a friendly smile to Aryion. See, all they needed was to get all that totally pointless anger out of their systems and now everything is wonderfully friendly once more. "Why thank you, Aryion." As for Murkat, he is now the proud recipient of a rather withering scowl. Lucky him. Such comments? And then scooting away? Head deliberately turns away from the Steward as yet another shiver wracks her frame. But his wine is eyed -that'd taste mighty fine right about now. But, she catches up on the conversation at hand, "Mating dance? Sweet Faranth. Is that what you people were talking about? Aryion 'n me are buds now, aren't we?"

 

Anki smirks and, at least behind the cover of her legs so that innocent little minds don't get warped, wiggles her hands in an incredibly vague wiggle, one that does seem to have rather naughty overtones. "It's a horizontal dance," she informs all that didn't know this fact. "Yargh. Is there any klah that Aryion isn't wearing at the moment?"

 

Aryion shrugs his shoulders, "No problems." He grins at the girl wrapped now in his jacket, "of course Taire m'dear. We was always buddies, just, had some stuff to work out." Glancing over at Taire, "I think that about covers it don't you?" He snags himself a new glass of juice this time and returns to his seat, grinning at all.

 

Murkat nods slowly as he continues to sip. "Of course I do Kish." And he wouldn't have it any other way." He sputters softly at her remark. "They would be cute, wouldn't they." One eye stays on Taire as he says it though, ready to duck if need be. Catching Anki's...handsigns, he snickers softly. Now see what he started. Hand goes to Taire's back, but he curls around his cup protectively. She got his plate, she's certainly not going to get his wine.

 

Kishairyn blinks once and shakes her head.  "It's very small steps from buds to ..."  She snaps her fingers, eschewing any number of more elaborate gestures in favor of that one.  She'll let Anki do the sign language.  "No, but I'm sure you could always lick it off him," she consoles.  She makes a face at Murkat.  "But not all that much," she temporizes.

 

She's so much more perverted at sign language. {Anki}

 

Ashelyn laughs and shakes her head.  "Oh dear, oh dear."  Ashelyn may have even blushed at such conversation, long ago, but that time has passed.  Murkat's wine is eyed and the assistant steward decides the sweetness would be grand at the moment.  Getting up, she simply pours a glass and returns, quietly. Thanial's entrance is noted and she smiles at the candidate.  She thinks for a moment about the kitchen rotations to determine the creator of today's klah disaster.  "Honestly, Anki, I have no clue.  But it's close to the same as what Menace makes.  Ask him."

 

Thanial wanders in, ears perking... what's this about the horizontal dance? That's Nial's favorite kind.  "Evening all," he greets easily from his bundle of clothing.  Yes, he's got sweaters, pants, long johns, the whole deal. Going forward to stand in front of the fire in the hearth and letting the warmth seep into his cold bones, he turns slowly to face the rest of the room.  Silent, he refrains from his usual innuendos.  Probably the cold... hard to get that libido worked up when the rest of him is freezing.

 

Taire beams brightly once more, just don't mind the odd chattering of her teeth. "Ohhh certainly." Nothing much more to add there. Issues with Fyne are done with. Issues with Ary are done with. Life it good -if a bit cold. She was trying to snub Murkat, but it is so tough when he gives her all kinds of ways to rise to the bait. She simply isn't immune. "Cute? Are you kidding me? Cute. He's my friend. My pal. Like you." *nudge* Wine is eyed generously, "Gonna give me some?" Its not exactly a question of if... more question as to why he hasn't already.

 

Anki pulls a face at that option. "No, thanks. I think I'll rather go and make my own." Moving off the chair like a long-limbed heron, she stalks kitchenwards, giving Thanial a cheery wave in midstep.

 

Anki ascends the staircase leading to the Weyr's kitchen.

 

Aryion groans at the surrounding conversations and buries his head into his hands. He looks up at all of them, before finishing off his juice and reaching up to run his hands through his sticky hair. Yuck. A greeting is given to Thanial before using both hands to push off from the table. "Well, folks, I need a bath. You all have fun." He gives them each a nod, while Taire gets a quick wink. He is on his way out when he turns back to her. "Taire just give me my jacket back when ya can." With that, Ary turns and heads toward the barracks and the baths.

 

"Of course he is. My apologies at inferring anything." Voice is kept neutral neither serious nor teasing. "Evening Thanial. How are you tonight?" At the request for wine, he sighs before pushing his cup Taire-ward. "Here." Now she's managed to get everything from him. Either he's too tired to argue or too relaxed, probably the former though. As the smith makes to leave, a wave is offered.

 

Kishairyn cocks an eyebrow, looking amused as she spots Thanial.  "A trifle cold?" she inquires.  "No luck finding someone to help you warm up?"  A smirk flickers across her lips before her attention moves on.  "Taire and Murkat ..." she ponders under her breath, then shakes her head.  "No, don't see it," she admits to thin air.  A nod goes after Anki.  "Good luck ..." is all she can offer.

 

Aryion heads deeper into the Weyr's lower caverns.

 

Ashelyn smiles at Thanial.  "Oh poor dear, too cold?"  A mischevious wink toward Thanial and Ashelyn laughs as Murkat succumbs to Taire's request.  "Never thought I'd see the day.."  Ashelyn trails off as she gestures towards Murkat's wine.  Back to Thanial and she grins.  "Come sit down, child.  You'll burn yourself crisp if you're not careful." 

 

Thanial turns toward Kish and shrugs his bulky shoulders, "I've forgotten how cold snow is."  And winter.  And Fort.  Nial's looking a bit worse for the wear and he's willing to complain about it.  "Don't know how you all can stand this shardin' weather," he moans pitifully.  "And I don't think even finding someone else to share my bunk will warm me up."  Nial's frozen, everywhere. Giving Ashelyn a sad puppy dog look, eyes pleading, "You wouldn't let me sleep in the galleries from now on, would you?"  It's the warmest place in Fort this time of year and thus attracts Nial like a moth to a flame.  As for burning, his sweater's feeling a little bit warmer than normal, but somehow the warmth doesn't seep through to the other side.  His backside's warm, but the front is still chilled.

 

Taire bobs her head to Ary as he leaves, and then turns back to the others with a soft smile. And then Murkat gives her the wine as well? Fingers peep from the cuffs of the borrowed jacket -seeing as Aryion is just a tiny big bigger than her- to wrap about the wine glass and take a long sip. With that done, she pushes it over 'til its between her and Murkat. You know, to share. Dark brows come down to hood her eyes at Kisha's comment, unabashedly baffled. "Don't see what?" And then here comes Nial, bundled up and hovering about a fire? She'd offer her jacket, but... Yet one more shudder wracks her body a bit violently, but she doesn't seem to care that much.

 

Murkat watches Thanial trying to warm up as he complains about the weather. "Aw, it's not that cold." Hmm, seems he's had this conversation before. Time to move on. He continues to watch and snickers as the puppydog eyes are given to the assistant. "Ah, thank you." is uttered as his glass returns to him, somewhat. "Yes, don't see what Kish?"

 

Murkat watches Thanial trying to warm up as he complains about the weather. "Aw, it's not that cold." Hmm, seems he's had this conversation before. Time to move on. He continues to watch and snickers as the puppydog eyes are given to the assistant. "Ah, thank you." is uttered as his glass returns to him, somewhat. "Yes, don't see what Kish?"

 

"You and Murkat," Kishairyn replies simply, even as she turns in her chair to be ready to duck anything that might come her way.  "As an item, that is.  I'm sure you agree with me."  That to assuage boiling tempers.  She tsks softly at Thanial.  "We tried that," she points out.  "Got the menfolk bruised sides for their troubles, and banished.  So unless you'd rather ache than freeze ..."

 

Ashelyn sits down her wine and laughs at Kishairyn.  "Girl, you're great. Murkat, can we keep her?"  Ashelyn's grin fades to a glare as Menacion enters the cavern, then all fades into a brilliant smile at Thanial.  "The sands, hmm?  Don't think I can arrange that.  But I can arrange a few other things.."  A sly grin follows, of course.  She can get him blankets and stuff, of course.  "Come, sit, have a bit of klah or whatever you poison may be and be happy.  The cold will go away, I promise."  Ashelyn gestures to an open seat.

 

Thanial can't refuse an invitation like that, even if it means moving away from the warmth of the hearth.  "Gladly, especially if you could arrange other things," he adds while sliding into the free seat by Ash.  Still, Nial hasn't given up on the idea of sleeping in the Galleries... he'll just have to ask V'len.  Or M'lan.  "I don't know why you all have chosen to live in such a frozen wasteland."  Good thing High Reaches is no longer open... Nial'd probably die there.  "Tell me it doesn't get any colder than this.  Please."

 

Taire blinks at Kisha as she licks her lips. "Me... and Murkat?" Of course, as she speaks the other party's name, a hand comes out to clout Murkat on the arm to her vast amusement. Just how many different people are her fellow candidates trying to hook her up with? She fears for the day when her name and Menace's are linked together. Yes, another shudder causes wherry-bumps to coarse up and down her arms, from being cold and wet... and that last thought. Nial is offered a suggestion. "Try a heated rock... or a warm towel when you go to bed." One suggested that to her, and it works wonders. Ashelyn's comments get a beaming grin and Nial is actually sympathized with. Imagine that.

 

Menacion strolls in, wearing the same clothes that he's worn all year.  And showing no sign of the cold.  All the hair keeps him well insulated, you see. "Its not so bad."  Menace says cheerfully.  "Rather pleasant, actually.  The weather during the spring and autumn makes living here quite pleasant."  He straddles a chair, crossing his arms across the back.  "It gets colder.  But not often."  He nods at Thanial.  "A heated brick, wrapped in a towel works well if you really need it."

 

Anki shouldn't just drop in on conversations just like that. "You and Murkat are getting handfasted?" she asks incredulously of Taire, returning with her Cup-o-Sludge and a stunned look. "Shards, I was just out of the room for five minutes. You certainly move fast, Murkat. Still, my congratulations." She returns to her chair and kicks back, feet tucked underneath her and back slouched until she's in a comfortable pocket.

 

Murkat ignores, or perhaps doesn't hear the comments from the weavertype person. At Ashelyn's comment, he snaps back. "Keep her?" He's not 100% sure who she's talking about, but he nods anyways. "Only if you take care of all the paperwork involved." A soft chuckle, "Of course it does Thanial. But never fear, you'll get used to it...eventually." He grins and clouts Taire right back. "I'm glad I'm amusing." Blinking, he looks up at Anki. "Handfasted? I don't think so, unless of course, you're offering." A small glimmer of the old Murkat reveals itself as he waits for a response.

 

Kishairyn laughs at Ashelyn and shakes her head.  "No, alas, you can't," she replies.  "The weavers down at Xanadu have a prior claim ..."  Unless, of course, that is pre-empted from other sources, but she won't credit that as a possibility.  "This is not frozen, Nial," she answers with a shake of her head.  "You should walks the shores by Tillek when there's a cold wind blowing ..."  She shivers in memory.  "Taire has a good idea," she says as if unaware of the other's shock.  "And a heated rock won't kick you in the shins."  She coughs at Anki's confusion, but takes no steps to correct it.

 

Ashelyn smiles at Murkat, but says nothing.. this time.  She just shakes her head and grins.  "But a warm brick in a towel can't..."  She trails off as she doesn’t need to give any ideas.  "Well then Kish, I feel honored to be in your presence!"  Another grin as Ashelyn lifts her glass, then drinks deeply.  "So you use a warm brick, Menace?  Is that why you're so sour?"

 

Murkat has already cleared it up for her, a fact that Anki appreciates ever so much. And the semi-offer that came with it, of course. "My, my, Murkat. I didn't know you had masochistic tendencies," she mutters sweetly as she takes a mouthful of klah, fingers wiggling to all those she missed since her last exit from the room. "Get some triple-thickness socks. They work wonders."

Thanial heads deeper into the Weyr's lower caverns.

 

Sanna comes up from the lower caverns.

 

Taire blinks at Anki and then has the good grace to blush. Ohhhhhh, that’s where they are going with this. "Handfasted? To /him/?" And then the girl risks another nudge at the Steward in emphasis. "That'd crimp his style... all those girls." Ohhh, how she remembers those days down at Xanadu. When the gossip was rich and Murkat was usually in the midst of all of it. Granted, she hasn't heard much of the stodgy Steward lately, but still... With that, the girl pushes back on her chair, but not before draining most of the rest of Murkat's wine glass, only leaving but a dribble at the bottom. "I'll be in your office tomorrow." To go over writing letters on sandtables, but she seems to have left that part out. Purposely? And then she starts for the way to the caverns, shivering and clattering her teeth as she goes.

 

M'lan comes in from the bowl.

Taire goes home.

 

Menacion swivels his head to stare at Murkat.  "Handfasted?  Sheesh. You have my condolences, Murkat."  For either Taire /or/ Anki.  He raises a brow at Ashe.  "Me?  Sour?  I don't use a warm brick, actually.  Haven't really needed to for turns."  What a warm brick has to do with sourness completely escapes him. 

 

Well, Menacion, it could have to do with having a brick up...erm, never mind.  M'lan saunters into the room, whistling from the bowl, and pauses, catching the tail end of Menacion's words, and peers towards him ironically, stretching, and murmurs, "Who's handfasting who?"  His tone is curious, before he turns, spotting Sanna, and offers the girl a smile, even as he heads towards the side.  No klah for him though, he merely pours juice.

 

Kishairyn sighs softly.  "What do you if it's not your feet that are cold, Anki?" she inquires, for all her lofty description of Tillek winds as wimpy as the next southerner ... with less excuse.  Still, she smirks after Thanial's departure, shaking her head.  Her brows shoot up at Taire's remark. "His office?  Don't you think that's a trifle public, Taire?"  She drawls the words with evident amusement.

 

"I'm handfasting my klah," Anki announces in a firm tone to settle the score once and for all." Fingers wiggle at Taire's back and, smirking lazily at Kishairyn, she explains. "Insulated jacket would do the trick, I think. Or get a child to cuddle up to, they're remarkable little furnaces in their own right. Just a pity they're so sticky, not so?"

 

Ashelyn laughs and shakes her head at Menace.  "So innocent, so corrupt.  You're a strange man, Menacion.  What you need is a good woman in your bed, but you'd likely scare her off before you met her."  Ashelyn's own sourness returns, but only directed at Menace.  A kind smile greets M'lan and another smile is directed towards Taire.  Ashelyn cheers mentally for the girl.  "Ah, M'lan will agree with me.  Isn't a good, warm body next to you in your bed better than a brick at your feet?"