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Lady Zuhluly and Lord Loveypoodums


Date:  August 29, 2001
Place:  Telgar Weyr's Skyspace; Weaver Hall's Skyspace, Landing Field, 
Outer Entrance, and Beach
Game:  PernMUSH
Copyright Info:  The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey 
l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

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Kassi's Note:  Would you buy 'the Devil made me do it' as an excuse for
this log?  No?  Drat... really, there is no excuse for this log. ;) 
But it was great fun, and my thanks go to everyone who attended--as 
well as, more particularly, to Katlynn for organizing the event in the
first place, to Conn for the dance, to A'deth for the brandy, and
most of all to I'sai for leaving my character intact. 0:)

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The Log:

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth teases out an image - hot sun, cool
water, one large brown and two small - and flavors it with _Boll_, if more
the needle-and-thread portion than anything to do with Lava; to that last,
he adds amusedly for his rider, << Tell her it's safe. >>

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth turns this concept about in her
mental claws as she might a child's puzzle involving a block of
different-colored squares, all twisted together; sun one color, water
another, glorious Boll a third, and yet something remains perplexing: 
<< What is safe? >>

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth images a large, large glass container
of -something- frothily, darkly, pink; and then Lorieth's rider; and then
the latter is shown to vanish.

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth, suspicious now, asks the question
that just must be asked. << Your rider isn't having Lorieth's rider's
hatchling *too*? >> Now there's a concept. A shame she probably didn't time
it right to make said rider snort drinking liquid from his nose.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth returns - after a pause - sparkling
merriment: << He says I should say it should be the other way around, >>
and didn't her rider need to know -that-.

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth runs this through the gauntlet of
rider-mind, and it returns laced with black diamond laughter and
facetiousness shaded burgundy: << She believes that would bid well; if
Lorieth's rider conceived by yours, then yours would surely father the
twelve she has now wagered upon, since she would not put it past Lorieth's
to spawn octuplets. >>

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth 'visions those notorious pants - with
a convenient blur that occludes anything they'd not want to see - with a
gut hanging over, one that's swollen large, and lumpy, and that _squirms_
with what's inside.

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth spares a moment to duly give
thanks--to him, in abscence of a deity on Pern--for that oh-so-convenient,
oh-so-lifesaving, oh-so-blindness-preventing blur. Fancifully, she makes
her own addition to the image: that squirming gut suddenly explodes,
messily no less, as eight squalling critters with only the most minor of
resemblances to actual human offspring swarm free to cling to their rather
nonplussed (and let us not forget gut-exploded) parent. Perhaps one of them
will be named Alien?

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth shields his vision from the explosion,
the clinging - and there whisks the invitation again: come, fun, sun, bum!

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth abandons--well, not entirely; it
still writhes gleefully in the back burner of her mind--her vision of J'lyn
being pestered to death by a pestilence of offspring, the better to affirm
with a rustle of dark red: fun, fun, fun, in the sun, sun, sun, as he says,
but if there's any showing off of bums, her rider's apt to kick them. Just
so his is warned.

You place one hand on Lysseth's neck and she warbles down at you fondly.
You grin and scratch her eyeridges once before climbing up onto her lower
neckridges, using the riding straps and Lysseth's thoughtfully offered
foreleg.

<*> Lysseth spreads her wings to their full extent, bringing them down with
a rush of wind as she leaps nimbly into the air.

You spring off the edge of the Star Stones, soaring up over the bowl.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth teases agreement, << She'd be 
welcome. >>

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth can be called nothing but intrigued:
<< Welcome to kick? >>

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth may not have asked his rider; but, 
<< Of course. >>

<*> Lysseth springs from Stones to ledge, and--after a period as brief as
rider's haste can manage--back again, wings once more finding the wind to
ride it upwards, onwards.

<*> Lysseth disappears into Between.

Between
You gasp as the icy black nothingness of Between surrounds you! You hear
nothing, see nothing, and feel nothing. The trip takes five heartbeats...
Black...
Blacker...
Blackest!

You suddenly emerge...

<*> Lysseth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

<*> Astride Taralyth's neck, I'sai leans into Taralyth's arc, turbulent in
the others' sake. He mutters to Timbril, "... been so... anyway?" 

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth sings sweetly, sweetly, << That is so
very good to know. She will make special note of it. >> In time, one
wonders, to have found steel-toed slippers amidst the hodgepodge she calls
a wardrobe?

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth returns, sweetly as she, << We trust
her. >> To do what?

<*> Taralyth chases his shadow in descent towards the fields, then, though
he's not above buzzing the courtyard _first_.

<*> Taralyth wings down into the fields of the WeaverCraft Hall.

<*> Lysseth greets watchdragon first, with clarion trumpet, and then
familiar pairings with a quieter sound; her rider, before signalling for
descent, mutters something probably and mercifully inaudible about
steel-toed slippers.

<*> Hroth wings down into the fields of the WeaverCraft Hall.

You wing down into the fields of the WeaverCraft Hall.

<*> Ymedath wings down into the fields of the WeaverCraft Hall.

<*> Astride Taralyth's neck, I'sai ducks a glance upward - and there's a
laugh to go with it, before he's unclipping his own straps, and tending to
Timbril thereafter.

<*> From Ymedath's neck, Zaidra unbuckles the straps holding her in.

<*> On Hroth, F'lone unbuckles his own straps.

<*> I'sai slides down from Taralyth's neck.

<*> Astride Taralyth's neck, Timbril hangs on for dear life as the
courtyard gets buzzed. Her squeak of exclamation is cut short though as
Taralyth lands. Perhaps with good grace, she lets I'sai unbuckle the straps
for her and slides off Taralyth's back with as much dignity as she can muster.

<*> Timbril slides down from Taralyth's neck.

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth's words would count as warning if
they weren't so sunny: << Isn't that dangerous? >> If very sweet indeed.

You slide off of Lysseth's neck to land beside her easily. She rumbles,
cocking her head down at you, and you rub her eyeridges gratefully.

Timbril arches her brows slightly at Is and shakes her head slightly. "Long
stories go best over a cup of wine with plenty of time for the telling,"
she says rather cryptically.

Mydara ambles through the great double doors to the outside from the great
hall.

Mydara walks out of the Hall and stops at the sight of the dragons and
their riders.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth's diamond-pure, diamond-fine: << Of
course. >>

F'lone removes his straps and slides down Hroth's side to land softly on
the ground.

F'lone lands softly and gives Hroth a pat before turning towards the
bronzerider.

"Fair enough," says Is. "Within the sevenday, perhaps?" and he's turning -
only to encounter the apprentice, and smile, and rattle off, "Telgar's
duties, apprentice; I'd like you to meet our headwoman, Timbril;
Thunderbolt's wingleader, Kassima, and her Lysseth; and F'lone and Zaidra,
who're two of our latest class of weyrlings - along with Savanna, if you
knew her? - with Hroth and Ymedath."

Kassima makes her cautious way down from on high, skirts rustling and
bustling and never, ever riding--that, presumably, would be what the
caution was to prevent. "G'day, g'deve, well met, and all that bother," she
greets the others in bright fashion. "Hope you don't mind the company?
'Twas invited along for a *most* intriguing purpose, apparently." Lysseth
settles beside, entirely too amused with herself. Ours is not to reason why.

Kassima:
	Tall, slender, and still appearing younger than her late thirties age,
Kassima's Turns seem further lessened by fine mood she's in this evening;
dark, canted emerald eyes contain a lightening sparkle, and a grin is never
far from view.
	Glazed cotton dyed lurid vermillion forms the wide sleeves and full 
skirts of her amply cut gown. Tight across shoulders and snug under curves, 
the square bodice of duller sable supports flesh as well as opaque, tissue-
fine pleats falling unbound to ankle-length edges. Finger-wide black cord
encircles collar, cuffs, and hems, stark against the carnelian gloss;
thinner black stitches emphasis into soft suede shoes matching the dress's
rustling, rust-red comfort.
	As far as ornaments go, the cascading fall of her blue-black hair 
surely counts as one; earrings dripping blood-hued jewels form another set, 
and the large pendant ruby nestled just above her neckline is a third. No
detracting knot is worn, no sign of rank given, but the unconscious ease
and confidence of her bearing might hint at her position as a ranking
dragonrider.

Zaidra uses the riding straps to vault from her position astride Ymedath,
landing lightly on her feet, then giving him a friendly pat.

Mydara adjusts the tray in her hand, loaded with wineskins and other
drinks. "Weaver duties to Telgar and her queens." she says with a smile. He
nods to each rider as they are introduced. "Well met, riders. I'm Mydara."
he says with a smile.

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth pings a delicate crystalline finger
against those fine, pure facets, to listen to their fine, pure song, unless
of course the song isn't quite as fine and pure as the rest--<< I knew, >>
she teases, << there was a reason I liked you. >>

Mydara grins and nods to I'sai. "Yes, sir. She is a good friend. She's
actually the one who convinced me to join the weavers." she says with a grin.

I'sai murmurs, "And there might even be an exam later," and this not
without a sideways glance Kassi's way; a tipped nod to the girl's tray,
though, "And if you're going also, Mydara, we'd be pleased to play escort."
Taralyth's even dropping his muzzle down, the better to -inspect- her with
great, glowing eyes. "...And we Searched her. Shards. I hope you'll send a
message back with us, before we leave."

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth's song is clear and true - if only
because it resonates from mind rather than dark throat; << There's 
-one-, >> he teases back; and, after a pause, << ...She does not smell like 
one of mine, like Iagoth's. >>

Mydara smiles as she looks at the bronze. "Such a beauty. And an
interesting shade of color too." she says before turning to the
bronzerider. "I do, actually, sir." she says with a big grin.

Kassima makes a face at the Assistant Weyrlingmaster, earrings swaying with
the shake of her head. "You had t'tell m'rank and name," she complains,
good-natured. "And here I'd been intending t'tell everyone 'twas Lady Zuly,
reigning Holder of Mucketymuckamuck down in the south." Still, her nod to
Mydara is friendly and accompanied by a full smile. "Well met here,
likewise. --Oh, Timbril, 'tis a lovely dress you've found."

F'lone smiles at the young lady before leaning towards Zaidra to whisper.
"She's pretty."

Radar ambles through the great double doors to the outside from the great
hall.

Radar waves to the visitors and says, "Weavers' duties! Did you come for
the party tonight?"

Mydara turns as Radar walks out of the hall. "Hello Radar." she says with a
smile.

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth asserts, in pleasant hum to harmonize
with song, << One. >> Pause; rest; two beats before the music resumes on a
laughing half-note: << The only one I can think of offhand, surely... no, I
do not think she is for Cariath's. >> Eggs, not rider; there's a certain
lack of interest, none of the spark that would take hold in the presence of
one of her Someones Special.

Timbril brushes her own skirts out and unbuttons her jacket swiftly in the
warmer air of Boll's area. "Duties ..." she echoes I'sai's greeting and
another smile. "And well met." Then more quietly. "In a seven-day ... sure
..." she remarks to I'sai. Then a grin for Kassima. "Thank you," she says
gaily. "Been saving it for a special occasion"

"Speaking of dresses," I'sai points out mock-sternly, nodding to that red
and black; "Still, still. Yes. They become you both. Why don't you try to
bribe the apprentice, with a promise of a ride on Lysseth in exchange for
her silence and, I don't know, a tunic? and you can be Lady Zuly, and
perhaps Mydara will be kind enough to ... evening, weaver; and yes, for the
celebration, and we've brought headwoman Timbril; and Taralyth, would you
-please- stop crooning quite that way?" only the dragon doesn't, with that
compliment; not yet.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth agrees; still - still, later they'll
return, surely; and then they'll see.

Zaidra shrugs, and whispers back to F'lone, "I hadn't noticed..." But
there's amusement in her green eyes.

<Weavers> Katlynn waves to Radar. Party thing down at the beach, if you
want to join. :)

Mydara smiles at the crooning dragon before turning towards Timbril and
Kassima. "Silence about what? I don't think I saw anything." she says with
a wink to the bronzerider.

Kassima turns; greets, "Journeyman Radar, g'deve and duties--aye, I
*believe* so. On Lysseth's suggestion in my case. Welladay, Timbril, here's
an occasion special enough for the giving if'n memory serves; a bonfire,
isn't it? As if'n 'tweren't warm enough here without--" She's found time to
shuck riding gear sometime since, and in great haste, too. "What, what?"
she asks I'sai at the sternness, mock or not, and her hands automatically
smooth the skirt. "Oh--thankee kindly, and I doubt the good apprentice
would want a ride on the sky-wench. She'd end up green in the face. And
then she'd likely make the tunic vomit-colored t'spite."

Radar chuckles and says, "The party is this way, if you'd care to introduce
'Lady Zuly' around."

Radar wanders toward the outer entrance.

Mydara smiles again. "Well. I better get these drinks to the party." she
says with a grin. "Shall we?" she asks the bronzerider.

<Weavers> Radar is leading some Telgarites to the party. :)

<Weavers> I'sai says, "Like little lambs to the sla... er."

Kassima does, however, flash a broad grin at Mydara at the promise of
silence. "Mayhaps Zuly isn't silly enough," she muses. "Would Zulu be
better? Zulululu? Or mayhaps I'd better just stay me. That's sillier than
all the rest."

<Weavers> Katlynn says, "Woohoo! Telgari to corupt! Oh wait.. they're
/already/ corrupt.. ;)"

Mydara moves toward the outer entrance.

I'sai clears his throat, murmurs assent as well; "Still, it'd be fairly
unforgettable - " and then, then he traipses after.

I'sai wanders toward the outer entrance.

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth is well capable of envisioning a
return, one to water-lapped beaches in lieu of fields and sunlight in lieu
of shadow; warmth and waves, and silvery fish to tickle their way down
dragon throats, and... Searching, what's that?

You wander toward the outer entrance.

Lysseth> F'lone follows silently.

F'lone walks toward the outer entrance from the fields.

Mydara wanders down the sandy path from the WeaverCraft to the beach.

Lysseth> Taralyth noses to the dragons - encouraging Hroth, among them -
and leaps after.

Taralyth moves toward the outer entrance from the fields.

I'sai wanders down the sandy path from the WeaverCraft to the beach.

Taralyth moves down the sandy path from the WeaverCraft to the beach.

Lysseth moves toward the outer entrance from the fields.

You head down the sandy path from the WeaverCraft to the beach.

Lysseth moves down the sandy path from the WeaverCraft to the beach.

Radar ambles down the sandy path from the WeaverCraft to the beach.

Mydara walks over, a tray full of wineskins and other drinks in her hands.
"Evening, Katlynn. We brought some guests." she says, indicating Radar and
the Telgari riders.

The pipes take on a lost, haunting tone, echoing the Lady's grief. It takes
all of Faramen's concentration to coax this voice from his pipes, but, for
once at least, it works.

F'lone strolls down the sandy path from the WeaverCraft to the beach.

Mydara walks over to a nearby table to set the tray down on.

Taralyth glides down, silent but for the sandy -thump- of landing - and
then, once his rider's removed those straps, the splash of swimming into
deep water; said rider settles down the gear, and echoes a soft, "Telgar's
duties."

Even the melody slowly fades away into the wash of the surf from the beach
below, leaving only Conn's voice for the coda. 
	"On stormy days, in the quiet morn 
	If you listen carefully 
	Sometimes you still can hear the cries 
	Of the lady of the sea"

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth tickles airy bubbles up along that
thought - just so, just so, and _there_: there's the plunge, deep.

Hroth moves down the sandy path from the WeaverCraft to the beach.

Oops! A wave of new arrivals. With a quick smile to Tirom, Jaxelle rises
and makes her way over towards the incoming group, her eyes bright with
merriment. "Good evening! Good evening!" she calls softly, sweeping a
welcome with one arm out to indicate the festivities beyond, "Our honor and
pleasure to have you! Please -- make yourselves comfortable. Is there
anything I can get you? Some wine perhaps? Or Klah.. a cold ride no doubt,
you've had!"

Tirom blinks a bit then, glancing over curiously to all the new arrivals.
He smiles though, glancing up to Jaxelle, then back to listening to Conn sing.

"Memorable," Kassima muses as she follows in Mydara's wake, her expression
one of plotting. Clearing her throat, she echoes the bronzerider's
sentiments--sort of--in tones rather more... fruity... than her norm: "Oh,
aye, Hold Mucketymuckamuck's duties also, dearies."

Hroth joins Taralyth in the water.

A sigh escapes from Katlynn's lips a the woman listens in relative silence
to Conn's song - at least until she notices the in-coming Telgar rider's.
"Weaver's duties!" She's quick to issue, bounding up from her place perched
on a stone bench, to trample and slip-walk in her heels over the sand, and
then a sudden blink at Kassima. "Hold Muckey-/what/?"

Mydara chuckles as she hears the greeting from one of the riders. She
removes the items from the tray and turns back towards the hall.

Jaxelle darts a vaguely amuzed look to Kassima, her smile sliding into a
lopsided grin, but she makes no more comments - waiting for reply to her
inquiry.

Syeara wanders down the sandy path from the WeaverCraft to the beach.

Radar says, "I'd love to have some juice, if there's any left?"

Conn is silent for a moment to let the song fade away, then gives Faramen a
grateful smile. "Now, for some slightly more cheerful tunes. Let the
dancing begin!" He signals the apprentices for a change, and then the new
set strike up dance music

Mydara walks toward the WeaverCraft Hall.

I'sai glances 'round, and then murmurs hastily if not ungratefully to
Jaxelle, "Wine for me, please; and my mother'd have my hide if we
interrupted the harpers any more than needs must. F'lone, here, no wine for
him - still a weyrling - but if you'd make him extra-welcome, I'd be
grateful. And that's, ah, 'Mucketymuckrunamuck.'"

Timbril walks down the sandy path from the WeaverCraft to the beach.

Lysseth, either at Kassi's request or quite possibly at her own volition,
ignores her rider totally. She doesn't know this woman. She's just here for
the food; don't mind her. And once Kassi's removed her straps, she wastes
no time in heading out into the surf herself, where she won't have to
listen to Kassima flutter, "Hold Mucketymuckamuck, Craftsecond-dearie; 'tis
down south--" She gestures vaguely in that direction. "I'm Lady Zuhluly.
But you can call me Zuly, dear. Or Zuhl. I like Zuhl. *Such* a pleasure to
see so many people!"

Tirom stands up quickly as he sees Conn's signal, and runs over to climb up
to find his place among the other apprentices that setup.

<Weavers> Kassima says, "This is, by the way, I'sai's fault, for taking a
facetious comment seriously and giving Kassi Ideas. ;)"

F'lone watches as Mydara walks back towards the hall and turns back just in
time to hear I'sai. He gives a sigh and nods. "Yes, sir." he says before
turning to the one who offered drink. "Some cider, please." he says.

Timbril catches up to the rest of the Telgar party, having gotten
distracted speaking to a newly arrived holder from Tillek. She moves across
the beach, smiling, treading carefully over sand toward the bonfire.

<Weavers> Katlynn just *eyes* the pair of you in that case. *Lol*.

<Weavers> I'sai winks at the craftsecond.

Faramen steps off the performance platform as the next set takes over,
putting his pipes in their case and setting them in a safe place. He grins
at Tirom as the two apprentices pass and then strolls towards the
refreshment table.

Jaxelle inclines her head slightly in recognition to Radar, then with a
slight lift of her brow listens to I'sai's request. "Of course." she
murmers in understanding, a wink offered, and then to F'lone, a bright
smile. "And what will /you/ be having, hmm?" she inquires -- waving towards
the refreshments as she strides the short distance to begin filling glasses
to meet requests. Another young girl is caught by the sleeve and hauled
over to aid in the task.

Esa moves away from the refreshments to allow the newcomers access, then,
seeing Conn's signal, moves over to take her place with the other
apprentices on the performance platform.

"It'll be soon enough," I'sai offers after the young brownrider, adding -
once Jaxelle seems to be taking him in hand - a flash of smile, and,
"...Timbril - this is our headwoman, Timbril - what were you doing, looking
at flowers or something?"

Drinks are filled and delivered to their various solicitors, platters of
goodies have begun to be passed about by young women and men assigned to
the task. The Harpers are doing a fine job, and the general atmosphere is
of extreme cheer.

Timbril snorts a little as she draws up alongside I'sai. "No I'sai -- one
of my kinsmen is here ..." she waves toward a holder fellow with a
Tillekian knot. "Seems he's gotten himself handfasted again. I was offering
my congratulations." She smiles then, eyes focusing on the person I'sai is
speaking too. "Yes, yes ... duties ..." she says pleasantly.

Radar is puzzled by Lady Zuly. "Uhh, Lady? Just where is Hold
Mucketymuckrunamok located? I don't think I'm familiar with that one."

Katlynn isn't about to offer to fetch drinks and refreshments. Oh no. She
just stands there with a rather.. amused smile plastered across her lips,
dimples still perking deep in her cheeks. "Well, it's *such* a pleasure to
have you here, Lady Zuhluly of Hold Mucketymuckamuck." A slanted glance
goes to I'sai, measuring him up once, and then all the way back down. "And
is this your Lord?" Innocent, ever innocent. A quick wave of her hand, and
she catches an apprentice 'round the collar, ducking low to whisper
something into his ear. "And make sure Conn has a drink to soothe his
throat.." The boy dashes off to complete the task, grinning from ear to ear.

"'Again'?" I'sai marvels. "Well, ah, congratulations right back, and - "
Katlynn speaks: all of a sudden he holds very, very still - but for one
fair brow quirked up to the 'Lady.'

<Weavers> I'sai eyes. -Dimples-.

<Weavers> Katlynn says, "Are the root of all evil?"

Conn picks up a fresh glass of wine, then wanders over to Katlynn's side.
"Harper's duties to Telgar," he offers, then - with an odd look at the
'Lady', "And.. to Hold Mucketymuckamuck."

Min, such a calm one usually, seems a little overwhelmed with the crowd
that has now gathered. And.. probably the fact that she knows very few of
them adds to her momentary discomfort. This moment overcome she relocates
to find another bunch of weaverapprentices and they chatter, listening to
the strange goings-on of the riders. And /strange/ they are.

Faramen smirks as he, too, toasts Telgar and Hold MucketyMuck with the
cider given to him by one of the attendants.

Jaxelle personally fills a tall mug of cider, shaded a delicate pink and
crisply tart to the tongue, returning with it to F'lone's side and guiding
it into his hand. Blue eyes are understanding as she gazes at the young
man, and she offers a gentle pat to the forarm if allowed. "Don't you
worry.. there's enough music and good grace here to more than send you for
a loop even without the harder aid. Just think of it this way.. when the
rest of the lot can no longer stand, you'll be the only one left for the
ladies to dance with!"

Kassima corrects in a prim if overripe voice, "That's *Mucketymuckamuck*,
Journeyman Dearie. Really, I don't know why nay anyone can keep it
straight... but 'tis right next to Hold Gobbledegook, and surely you know
*that* one." Flutter, flutter, go those lashes, before she positively
*beams* at Katlynn. "Why, however did you guess?" she simpers. "We've only
been married such a short, short, very short while, but he's a *very* good
Lord, you know. And a pleasure t'*be* here, m'dear, *such* a pleasure, and
oh, duties t'Harper *too*, by all means!"

<Weavers> Katlynn owws. My cheeks hurt from laughing.

Syeara flies down the path at her fastest run, skidding to a halt in the
sand and simply standing and staring at everyone, make that everything on
the beach. "We've been invaded." she mutters to herself as she continues to
stare. "How am I supposed to find -anyone- here."

<Weavers> Kassima looks pleased. ;)

Conn just shakes his head, giving I'sai a sympathetic look. Really, that's
all sympathy - those sparkles are just extra sympathetic. "I'm afraid
you've just missed my own composition for these evening, but we'll have
dancing for as long as we can still hold our instruments. If you and your
Lord would care to dance."

Jaxelle glances over to Kassima, and her smile turns into a slight smirk
before being replaced by an altogether too wide grin. Trying very hard to
assume a straight-fae, the headwoman passes over to the chatterbox with a
"OH MY! Hold Gobbledegook?! Why! I had a friend who lived there.. rather a
dumpish little place, but as I recall, not nearly so bad off as that little
frump of a place nearby. Hold..what was that name again? Hmm.. Oh!" she
manages to blush bright red, and makes a great show of clearing her throat,
"Ahem. Why.. I suppose that was your hold. Well.. it must have been a
mistake of course." she rakes a gaze over the woman, then bites her lip, as
if she's not certain at all. Little laugh, wave of her hand, "Of course it
was." and she's twirled off to find the weyrling she's to be looking after
again.

Tirom glances up to Esa then, in a moment of silence on stage between
songs, and nods. The other harpers go quiet as they start to play. Tirom
brings his colourful pipes to his lips, and starts to play a fast, bright
tune, fingers speeding over the pipes. The tune is simple, but fast for a
good dance.

I'sai clears his throat, darkly, and pushes up his sweater's sleeves: a
relic of -Benden- Hold, it's seen better Turns. "Well, my dear...
mookums..., have you had a chance to meet journeyman Conn? Dancing sounds,
ah, delightful. Yes. If my ankle will support it, of course. It has a bit
of a shake. Conn, may I entrust my Lady to you for -one- tune, and then
take the next?" and he tips a nod to the other harpers while he's at it.

Radar asks the Lady and Lord, "Ah, yes, isn't Hold Gobbledegook a half
day's journey south of Hold Jibberish? I've met the Lord Holder there a few
times. He's most expansive after he's broached his second cask of ale."

<Weavers> Syeara is reminded of a fairytale that she heard in a tailoring
class one time.. *coughs*

Faramen sets his drink aside as the dance music begins in earnest, and
looks around for a suitable partner. Striding over to a group of Weaver
apprentices, he bows with a flourish.

F'lone stands behind I'sai, drinking the juice given to him, and seems
unusually quiet.

"Well then, it's my pleasure to meet you too, oh lovely Lord of
Mucketymuckamuck - and congratulations on your recent marriage! " Katlynn
simples right back at the pair of them, her own lashes set to batting in a
manner which would likely look ridiculous on anyone but her. "Syeara,
Syeara!" Blue gaze catches on the apprentice of evilm and she's waving a
hand toward the girl, fingers waggling. "Come and fetch some drinks for
these kind people." Nevermind if Jax has already *done* it.

<Weavers> Katlynn gets very, very lost in spam. I need coffee. Idle for a
lil' bit.

"I know, I know," Kassima--ahem, Lady Zuhluly--says with a gusty sigh. "We
haven't really gotten it fixed *up* yet since I inherited, Mother was
*such* a dear but had *nay* taste at all and she just *had* t'hang
tapestries of goats everywhere, I just *don't* know why. But you must come
visit next time you're there! We'll give you a goat tapestry of your very
*own* if'n you want, won't we, honeywunnybuns?" That's her cue to give
I'sai the baby canine eyes. "Exactly, good Journeyman, dear, exactly,
that's just like Lord Thingamabobber... oh, good Harper, I don't know; I
mean, I didn't marry him for his *dancing* skills if'n you get what I mean,
but I *suppose*...."

Timbril chuckles a little. "I'll be sure to let him know ..." she says
quietly toward I'sai. Then blinks at Kassima, trying valiantly to hide
giggles at the rider's .. nay lady's effusions.

Faramen extends his hand to Min. "Would you be so kind, lovely lady, as to
favor me with this dance?" There are twinkles of real humor in his eyes as
he makes this overblown request.

Esa settles her gitar on her lap, and waits while Tirom begins the dance
tune, then joins in, firm chords forming a simple base upon which the
cheerful notes of the pipe can leap.

Kassima then simpers right back at Katlynn, nauseatingly. "You're *too*
kind, dearie, just *too* kind." Oh, but now the music's starting, and she
looks between her unfortunate 'husband' and the possibly more unfortunate
Conn hopefully. "I don't believe we've met yet? Conn, what a delightful
name; it sounds so rapscalliony and all."

Min curtsies neatly, seems she's been taught some graceful manners
afterall.. and a hand is held out to accept Faramen's invitation. Her eyes
meet his and she's equally amused. Laughing she nods, "I shall.. kind sir."
she offers, fluttering lashes in that o-so-girlish way.

Jaxelle snorts as there's mention of goat tapestry, then shoves a hand
against her mouth to stop the laughter where it lay, her cheeks glowing
fiery as her eyes dance above the edge of her palm. Oh great wherries but
the night is interesting! Composing herself somewhat, she makes a quick
round to check on those gathered, refills a few empty mugs, then finds
herself once more at F'lones side. Faint quirk of a frown, the young man
looks all too uncomfortable. Rising to her full..ahem..height - the little
headwoman approaches him with a flourish, bowing low and twirling her arm a
bit for good measure. "Good sir, may I have this dance?" she pleads of the
poor weyrling.

Syeara, reduced apparently to the status of drinks tray for the day, takes
hold of several drinks and simply carries them about, just in case sombody
wants them. She would glare at her beloved Craftsecond if she wasn't
concentrating on not spilling the four glasses that she balances so
precariously as she walks.

I'sai bites his lip; but he can at least say, after a very long moment, "Of
course. Why, she can have -two- goat tapestries if she likes, seeing as how
she's the craftsecond and all. A special value. And... Radar. Journeyman
Radar. When you have a moment, I'd appreciate talking with you, ah,
confidently. I mean, 'confidentially.' A matter of a commission. The
sooner, the better. ...F'lone, go on, relax; you don't get this sort of sun
every day, after all. She seems a nice girl. Er, headwoman," as if that
made Jaxelle an entirely different species.

Conn has, in fact, seen rather more of Kassima than is apparent now, but
smiles cheerfully. "Well, dear lady, an honour to meet you. As I'm still
fully fit," somehow, his tone suggests he doesn't mean ankles, an
impression supported by the grin he throws I'sai's way, "it would be my
privilege to give you this dance, if you'll have me"

Faramen taking Min's hand, Faramen leads her onto the dance floor. For all
his flowery words, his steps are relatively simple, though well suited to
the tune being played.

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth manages somehow to find words, amidst 
the shimmering, tickling melee of her laughter. << My rider does wish to 
apologize to yours for this.... >> But since she's a dragon, and thus 
honest, she must add, << Not that she's actually all that sorry. >>

Tirom smiles around the pipes as people start moving out to dance, and
continues to play. The music continues to be bright and cheerful, the notes
seeming to chase each other up and down the scale.

F'lone blinks and looks at Jaxelle, though a smile appears on his face. He
sets his mug down and, bowing deeply to the headwoman. "It would be my
honour, ma'am." he says extravagantly and holds out his hand.

I'sai's not above a shamelessly thankful wink Conn's way - for all that he
hadn't disallowed the dance after -that-.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth submerges in thought as well as for 
breath at -that- - and assures, << She can make it up to him later. >> 
There's a longer pause, after which he adds in more deepwater hues, << It 
is good for him, after all. >>

F'lone straightens up and gives Jaxelle an admiring look. "And, If I might
add, you look lovely, ma'am." he says.

Radar is drinking his juice, but manages to get the glass away as Lord
Mucketymuckamok addresses him. "Ah yes, sir. You wanted to talk about the
giant feline costume for your wife, yes?"

Katlynn, hitching up her skirts to keep them from dragging on the ground,
settles to simply grinning at Lord and Lady Mucketymuckamuck, and turns to
flounce over to her mentee. "Syeara, dear.. you don't have to cart things
around like that all evening!" Dimpling down at the young blonde
apprentice, she's quick to whisper, quick to wink, "Go and see if you can't
get that /dashing/ young Lord to give you a dance. I bet he'd make a fine
partner on the floor!" Pause. "/Dance/ floor. Your too young to be thinking
of things like *that*." Chuckling at herself, she struts away with a casual
hip-swing, moving around to check on the refreshments.

"You're just *too* kind t'me, too, darling," Kassi-Zuhluly marvels to her
Lord of the hour, "and 'twill make it up t'you in full la-ter, I promise."
Oh, Faranth. She *titters*. Behind an upraised hand, no less. Then, turning
about, "Oh! Your father must be awfully proud of you, being, err, fit like
that... but certes, if'n you'll indulge the fact that I don't dance *all*
that well. He didn't marry me for my dancing skills, either."

With a grin that's almost scary for the amount of teeth it displays,
Jaxelle straightens up and places her own hand into F'lone's, her step
confident as she moves out with him towards the dancing area. "Delightful!
I /do/ hope those boots are thick?" she glances down at his feet, a teasing
glint in her eyes, "Else your toes might regret the decision, I must warn
you." Her eyes round as the compliment is passed and she splutters on a
laugh, her free hand waving dismissively. "Well.. thank you. You look fine
and well yourself this eve. Not that I've seen you any /other/ eve to
compair..but.." she shrugs, again the playful little wink, and swivels
about to face him now they've made it thus far.

Timbril's fingers lift slightly to hide her lips for a moment, as Kassi is
led off by Conn. Her head turns this way and that after a moment she steps
toward one of the provided food tables, looking over the provided offerings
musingly.

Conn offers the formidable Lady K-Z his arm for the short journey to the
floor. "They say, good lady, that it's all in your partner - and I'm
accounted fairer than most. We shall see!"

Esa's basic chords turn into a rudimentary countermelody--a slow, steady
counterpart to Tirom's cheerful piping. A few isolated notes every few
measures, plucked, not stummed, fit into Tirom's tune and add to the
apparent speed of the piece, though the actual tempo stays exactly the same.

Min lets her gaze flit from couple to couple, just taking in the atmophere
a moment. She follows her partners steps with ease, dancing giving her that
grace that she otherwise lacks on some occasions. "Welcome to the
Weaverhall," she murmurs, "Enjoying it sofar?" she's acting the proper ..
hostess? -- sofar.

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth promises with the white froth of
mirth cresting each thought-wave, << She will. >> Taking a page from his
book and not conferring with rider here. << What is, >> she wonders,
peeking into those depths, << to be embarrassed? >>

I'sai makes off with that wine of his own, making sure to 'mention' while
they're still close enough for the others to easily hear - and in quite the
doting voice at that - "She does like it furry. ...The more so if you add
claws, and maybe," and the rest is thankfully left to a quieter murmur as
he nods the weaver toward an area that's perhaps slightly more quiet.

Radar follows Lord M, valiantly managing to smother his laughter. They
speak for a little while, and look to the dancing Lady M from time to time.

And the formidable Lady K-Z takes the proffered arm, though she also takes
a moment to yodel back towards her Lord, "Bells, too, sweetiewookums! Don't
forget the bells this time!" Then she turns her full attention, and the
full force of that too-sweet smile, on poor, poor Conn. "This," she
chirrups, "sounds as if'n 'twill be *great* fun. I'll just follow your
lead, Harper-Dearie!"

Syeara thinks that the Craftsecond has well and truly lost it. "I'm not
dancing with no Lord." she says, wondering how she can set four glasses
down without spilling them. Oooh a headwoman. Still balancing carefully,
she moves over to Jaxelle and gives a pathetic "Help me." look.

Faramen grins down at Min as he guides through the steps of the dance. He
manages to force his long limbs into something vaguely resembling grace,
though it's obviously not as natural as his partner's. "Why, thank you.
Yes, I'm having a good time so far. This is the first time I've been to
dance here. Do you have them often?"

Jaelith heads down the sandy path from the WeaverCraft to the beach.

Conn reaches the floor, one hand slipping into Kassi-Z's as the other rests
in the small of her back. "Following my lead would be an excellent start,"
he agrees with a smile. "And I shall try not to let you down - or," he adds
with theatrical flirtatiousness, "forget myself!"

Already on the dance floor, about to dance with F'lone, Jaxelle's surprised
to suddenly find a pathetic looking little Syeara at her elbow, but
recovers quickly to give an understanding grin to the girl. "Sweetie, did
one of the older apprentices trap you into playing dish server already?"
she smiles gently and indicates a nearby girl, supposed to be serving but
instead leaning solicitously towards an older apprentice. "You march right
over there and tell her I said to get on the ball and /out/ of Trevet's eyes!"

A'deth takes hold of Jaelith's riding straps and swings himself up and over
her shoulder, slithering down her side those last few meters to the ground.

Syeira strides down the sandy path from the WeaverCraft to the beach.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth reflects sea-creatures back, though
none so -squirmy- as the ones from earlier; and with consideration, << No;
it is not the same - it is play, >> and that, that's different.

Jaxelle adds quietly, "Then you go have some fun."

Min looks up.. yes definatly /up/, to Faramen. That sparkle never leaves
her eyes, yet she's seemingly serious for the moment being. "No, not
really. I've actually only been to this once dance here, as well." She then
grins, "Doesn't mean i can't have fun at the first one, however."

Jaelith vaults up again, alighting near Taralyth; her rider looks about.

Kassima agrees in dulcet tones, "You shouldn't forget yourself while my
dear darling Lord is *watching*, anyway," wink wink, nudge nudge. Or maybe
just wink wink, since nudging would be difficult without interrupting the
dance pattern... and she has quite enough difficulty staying with it as-is.
"I just hope I don't *break* aught of yours... on the dance floor, that is,
dearie, a'course, and oops, did I just step on your foot?"

F'lone smiles at the headwoman as he is led to the dance floor. "Such a
lovely woman can be anything but light on her feet." he says with a grin
before smiling at Syeara. As the girl walks away he wraps an arm around
Jaxelle's waist as the music continues.

Syeira comes bounding down the pathway with a quick, bouncy hop-skip step,
shorn-short blonde locks bobbing merrily around her face. "Hey." A pause,
as the young girl peers around with wide eyes, brows settling into a frown.
"Syeara, where the shards are you and *why* didn't you get me up to come
down 'ere?"

Syeara gives a much relieved look to Jaxelle 'Thank you ma'am." She grins,
all thought of everything but having some fun out of her mind. Now if she
can on ly find.... Yes! There's the other half of the evil duo. With a
quick hop-steppy dancy kind of walk, she hurries over to her twin "Cause
you're too sleepy" she answers as she nears. "But the Headwoman said that
we're to have -fun-."

Timbril quietly, perhaps avoiding the worst of the hubbub for now, piles up
a plate and adjourns to a table. A glass of wine is commanded from a
passing server and Telgar's headwoman sits herself down, setting out plate,
glass and cutlery before finally divesting herself of the jacket she wore
for the ride over.

A'deth, spying I'sai, wanders that way.

Faramen returns Min's grin with one of his own. "Well, then I'll do my best
to help ensure that you do have fun." As a way of starting the process of
entertaining the little Weaver apprentice, he asks, "Your dress is lovely.
Is it of your own design?"

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth does not explode the guts of these
sea creatures, either, but lets them frolic in peace with only the
occasional splash to interrupt their play. << That is well, >> she decides.
<< He should often play--he is good at it; he has not gibbered speechlessly
once. >>

I'sai, consulting with Radar, glances up even as his dragon does - and the
latter's gaze sparks welcoming blue, echoed in the former's wave;
"...bells..." floats up, deliberately audible.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth bubbles baubles around them, bright,
gleaming, << It must be the practice. >>

Smothering a yawn behind one hand, Katlynn fiddles around with the various
things on the refreshment tables, beginning to poke the sharpened ends of
long sticks into those fluffy-sweet things. 'Bells' catches her ears from
I'sai and Radar's direction, and she turns, quirks up a brow in vague
question, then turns back again, leaning one hand against the table, as she
watches those swirling around the dancefloor. "You two!" A sharp jerk of
her head toward the pair of evil blondes, those *twins*, "Don't get into
too much mischeif." There's a bright wink, and she's waving them off.

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth, enchanted as a young thing, tries to
capture a bauble for her own even as she suggests, << Then more practice
would be even better for him? >> All innocence, embodied virtue.

Conn just keeps smiling. "It's all right, my dear - as if a wisp of a thing
like you could be an imposition!" Even when she moves a foot that was
supposed supposed to be still for another measure. "Such a pity that your
Lord did himself an injury"

A'deth deliberately slows his pace, quite agreeably giving his chosen
target time to continue his conversation.

Jaxelle bites her lip and wonders if she phrased that right when Syeara
goes popping off so happily, but with a little laugh she gives up on the
worry - messes happen and generally can be cleaned up if necessary. Turning
back into F'lone just as she's wrapped up, the headwoman gives a little
squeak then blushes faintly and chortles, "I hope I don't proove your
theory wrong, sir!" she replies gaely, up on her toes as she tries to glide
along with the rock and sway of the dance, one arm looped up gently about
the mans shoulder, the other caught in his hand.

Tirom soon lets the music end, the tune softening just a little more before
ending on a loud high note. Tirom lowers the pipes, grinning to Esa. After
a few moments, another dance tune starts up by the rest of the apprentices
performing.

"Oh, we get to have fun?" Well *this* is something new. Syeira bounces up
on the toes of her feet, trying to peer over the tops of peoples heads -
without much luck. "Hey," Leaning in close to her twin, she whispers, tone
laced with burbles of contained laughter, "You should tell your story,
y'know, the one from the other day.." A quick nudge of her elbow to
Syeara's ribs. "Go on, I dare you."

Esa strums the final chord of the piece loudly and firmly and lets the
strings resonate for a moment before placing her hand over them to still
them all at once. She returns Tirom's grin with one of her own that shows a
certain degree of relief.

Radar keeps talking to Lord M, and this time the word 'collar' floats out
as well. And the adjective 'red', but the rest of his suggestions are lost
in the dance music.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth lends her one; and teases, 
<< 'Mayhaps,' >> and there's the Greystones lilt to go with it.

F'lone laughs as he leads Jaxelle around the dance floor. "I'm not a sir,
my dear lady. I'm F'lone. Brown Hroth's rider." he says before releasing
her waist and twirling her.

"Aye," Kassi-Zuhluly mourns, rather loudly, "he should have known better
than t'try *that* with a bar and some pickles, but, well, y'know how such
things go sometimes, you get carried away...." And being carried away by
conversation does not, for the record, help her remember the dance measures
any better. "Still, he's a dear, dear man. *Such* a sweetheart. He even
puts up with all the caprine tapestries and *everything*." The overheard
mention of bells wins the sweetheart in question a sweet, sweet smile,
before she wonders solicitously, "Now, you're sure I haven't hurt you,
Harper-Dearie?"

Timbril casts the odd amused look toward Radar and I'sai's conversation as
such -intriguing- words float out under the cover of the din of the crowd.
And yet she's seeming quite pleased to simply be sat and eating without any
obligations of serving.

Min looks down at her dress, .. and not a perticularly fancy one at that --
but its cute. "Oh, you like it?" those eyes are flashing with mischeif,
"This one i had only a little to do with. There is, on the other hand.."
with that, Faramen is entertained with a description of her latest peice of
work. "Your not looking so bad yourself," she says, looking him up and down
as best as possible while still dancing. She giggles.

Conn winces as another entirely innocent and unmoving foot is trodden on.
"Oh, of course, Lady. Not at all." The change of players is greeted with
some relief, however. "Oh, how tragic - our dance has ended already! I'm
sure your Lord will want to claim his turn"

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth clasps it and gleams just as brightly
as her new toy for the possession, fleeting though it may be. << We will do
our best to provide it then, >> she solemnly avows. It's a tough job, but
someone has to do it.

I'sai twitches - far less at the approach than at mention of bench, of
pickles, of who-knows-what. He mutters to Radar, "... certainly.... we... a
plan,... was... family's... she's... one with... marks." 

Zaidra moves down the sandy path from the WeaverCraft to the beach.

Syeara's eyes light up. "You thing that we should. I couldn't do it on my
own of course, you'd have to help me with this many people around. Maybe
later when they're too drunk to rememeber who told it we could..." She
casts her gaze around the beach. "Hey!" she points to the dancing people,
but doesn't give any further elaboration. Must be one of those twin moments.

Jaxelle lets herself relax a bit more, spining about with relative ease
thanks to the momentum, managing to keep her balance thanks to her bare
feet. Oh help her if someone mis-steps! Easing back inward, a bubble of
giggles squeezes out of her as she realizes she made it safely through that
move, and once her breath is regained, she smiles up at F'lone,
"Congratulations. From what was said, it's only been a short while, hm? I
was raised at the Reaches, but I'm afraid I don't make many of the
hatchings anymore.. I used to love them as a child."

Faramen chuckles as he bows slightly to Min as the dance ends. "It's the
only decent thing I own, to be honest. I keep meaning to have something
really nice made, but, an apprentice doesn't have many Marks to spend, as
I'm sure you know."

Albin walks down the sandy path from the WeaverCraft to the beach.

Radar mutters to I'sai, "And good... fast... don't... to... her... and get
your... stomped..."

Kassima tips her head to beam at the poor Harper, and, for further torment,
attempts to steal a kiss on the cheek, with much lash-fluttering besides.
"*Very* tragic, I'm sure, and you're such a good dancer! If'n you ever want
t'dance again, why...." But she'll mercifully leave that offer dangling, in
favor of stepping back and curtseying deeply to him before looking towards
the aforementioned Lord. "Yoo-hoo! Sweetiepoo!"

F'lone grins as he replaces his hand on the headwomans waist. "Thank you. A
little over a turn." he agrees. He continues to lead her through the dance
and, if she happens to step on his toe, he doesn't say anything.

Conn bows to the 'Lady', then wanders off down the beach a ways, looking
for somewhere quiet enough to check his feet for permanent damage

Ambling, rather than really walking, or anything else that might get
someone where they wanted to go in proper time, Albin comes down the path
from the Hall proper, aimed toward the rather large gathering on the beach.

Radar slips away before Lady Zuly can ask him too many questions. He makes
his way to Timbril and says, "Hi there! Enjoying the party?"

Syeira flutters pale lashes at her twin, and waves a hand toward the
refreshment tables. "Then we should go ahead and get 'em all drunk,
shouldn't we?" Can you just *see* the halo hovering above her little blonde
head? The girl skips across, and starts slinging skins of Benden wine up,
to start offering them around to those in the crowd. "C'/mon/ Syeara!"

I'sai doesn't think to look at 'Sweetiepoo' - till that very timbre clamors
into his ears; still, he does then step away from the weaver at last,
towards the Igenite. He mutters to A'deth, "... you,... Zaidra;... I've...
of... after... lent my borrowed... then sharing..." 

Min chuckles, "Yes, i know all to well." She curtsies at the songs end. Her
mouth opens as though to say more, but a journeyman calls her name from the
side of the dance area. She smiles to Faramen, "I'm sorry.. i have to help
out some here, perhaps another dance later?" she asks, reserving him with a
wink.

I'sai adds with a nod marking said 'Lady,' "I'm wearing boots."

Jaxelle meerly grins in return, her dimples deep and her face flushed for
all the excitement. She doesn't blunder the dance too badly, the hand
against her waist and the sheer height difference aiding her in her
efforts. Besides, she's barefoot, so the times she does tred on a boot,
it's nothing horrifying, although she does look a might sheepish. Blue eyes
slip towards the twins at the edge of the dance floor, and she leans up a
bit to murmer something to her dancing partner. "Might.. some.. terror
control..."

Faramen grins, returning the Weaver Apprentice's wink. "Why, certainly.
I'll be sure to claim you again," he says to Min.

Katlynn arches a brow at the pair of evil blonde apprentices - and if she
notices the mischeif they're about to make, she doesn't comment, other than
to elbow-nudge a particularily good skin of wine Syeira's way. "Use it
wisely." She says, giving a sage bob of her head. Albin spotted, the woman
hitches her skirts up with one hand again, and trompts across the sand
toward him, white teeth flashing against her tan. "Nice of you to join us
down here. Care for something to eat, Steward?" Oh yes. She's so very formal.

Kassima pouts, very emphatically, as her dear Lord Sweetiepoo ignores her
to go talk to some *greenrider*. Hmph. "You know what they *say* about
*green*riders," she mutters to some hapless nearby soul, with a significant
roll of the eyes. Said victim nods once, mutely, and then skitters away as
fast as she can flee, leaving Kassi-Zuhluly to sigh and flounce-flutter
away in search of drinks.

F'lone smiles as the dance finishes and dips Jaxelle. As he has her bent
over like that, he whispers into her ear."I.....love.....you." before
releasing her from the dance.

<Weavers> Jaxelle gapes and bursts out laughing.

<Weavers> Katlynn just /stares/.

Zaidra lurks at the edge of the dancefloor, watching, intrigued.

Min chuckles and darts off to comply with the call.

Esa hands her gitar to another apprentice and steps down from the platform.
The music continues, light and sprightly.

Albin isn't quite so, however, merely lifting a hand to wave at Katlynn.
Well, just at first. Her formality causes him to straighen up a shade, and
answer at least equally so. "Evenin', Craftsecond. And no, that's alright.
I'm not really hungry." An amiable smile is offered up, however, "Looks
like the party's going well, though." Surveying the various people, a wider
smile creeps further across his lips.

Faramen whistles softly along with the tune as he wanders off in search of
another dance partner. The lanky Harper apprentice pauses to grin at Esa,
then spots Zaidra and begins working his way towards her.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth displays the bauble: see how it is not
pinpricked by even mental claws? << We count on you. >> And then, << He
asks that she would pour for him as well, as he'll join her in but a
moment. Boots and all. >>

Timbril is just in the midst of swallowing a mouthful of wine after a
rather large bite of the tubers on her plate. She chokes a little, lifts
her napkin to cover her mouth, chews a bit more, swallows, then smiles up
at Radar. "Yes, thank you very much, I am -- the food is quite good," she
notes, then nods toward the dance floor. "Looks as if most are having a
good turn at kicking up their heels too!"

Zaidra finally sees someone she recognizes, and waves to Faramen, her
one-time partner in pranks.

"You're a braver man than I, in that case, but I certainly appreciate it!"
Jaxelle replies on a chuckle, keeping hold on one of F'lone's hands as she
threads her way through the press of dancing bodies towards the
twin-trouble occuring at the edge of the clearing. A deep breath is drawn
in, and the blond has to work hard at not grinning as she realizes exactly
what plan the two have cooked up -- it's easy enough to imagine, she was
/almost/ as bad as them when she was that age. Pausing before Syeara, a
fine brow is arched, but not sternly - rather in a quizzical, concerned
way. "Why, Syeara! They put you back to work? Tsk. That just won't do..
Here, give me that wineskin, you go find your sister and tell her I said
you two are to enjoy the dancing. You've done enough work this evening."
Smile. She holds out her free hand expectantly to the youngster.

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth bats at it much as a feline might bat
at a toy, to prove to herself this point. << You can always count on us, >>
is the breezy assurance, as sincere as it is offhand; then, << She says
that she'll do so indeed, and suggests that if he hasn't done so, he should
exchange his boots for hip-waders. >>

<Weavers> Jaxelle says, "Not what it sounded like. *chuckle* ;)"

Faramen grins as Zaidra waves to him, moving to catch the waving hand as he
comes closer. "Zaidra! I haven't seen you since Telgar stole you away. How
have you been? And how is Ymedath?"

Esa works her way along the outskirts of the crowd back toward the
refreshment table. She claims a glass of juice and turns to watch the
crowd, the lights, the dancing, sipping from her glass every now and then.

Zaidra grins, and then blinks as her hand is caught. "I'm fine...he's fine.
'Least, we haven't gotten into trouble yet." Her green eyes sparkle
slightly. "I heard a rumor someone was recently promoted?"

Radar nods and agrees. "I think the highlights are Lord and Lady
Mucketymuckamok. I can't say I've ever met a Lord or Lady Holder quite like
either of them." He winks at Timbril and says offhandly, "I hope she
doesn't kill him after she gets his gift."

"Call me Kat." The Craftsecond offers with a bright smile, those oh-so
annoying dimples once again making an appearance in her cheeks. "Or.." Head
tilts, and she eyes the man for a moment, up-down, up-down, "Katly.
Whichever you prefer! Care for something to eat or drink?" A hand motions
toward the refreshment tables set around the place, and she starts stepping
lightly toward them, reaching for one of the wineskins the evil twins
*didn't* take away. "Feel free to join in the dancing, Steward."

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth lets it dance as might a star, and
sparkle the more for it; << Too late. >> He carries only so much baggage
with him.

F'lone grins as he is led off the dance floor.

Kassima-Zuhluly glances off towards the dragons for a moment, then reaches
for a second glass to fill along with the first, chattering the ear off the
nearest serving person all the while. "...And then I told him, 'But
loveykins, you don't hire Harpers t'do *that*, nay even at a wedding, they
just won't, entirely too uptight....'" Though she does pause in this tirade
to flash Radar a sunny smile upon overhearing mention of her title.

Tirom plays for a while longer, then steps down as well, another apprentice
taking his place as he starts to wander.

I'sai remains there a moment more, his smile sharp and quick - and then he
moves on to the side table, the wide table, and his 'Lady': "...Now,
darling bride, you've shown me what a good bribe can do... and isn't this
next dance ours, hm? I dare say you've worn the poor harper out, and they
only have so many, you know."

Faramen grins, rolling his eyes slightly as he tugs the former Healer
apprentice towards the dance floor. "Yeah, I still haven't any idea why,
but Master Rodric made me a senior apprentice about a sevenday ago." His
grin widens a bit further, "As soon as I've passed my composition and voice
exams, I'll have to pick a subcraft."

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth spins her thoughts into a dance with
the bauble-star, much as she's sought to physically dance with the real
thing so many times and failed--<< A pity, >> she sympathizes, for one can
never have too much baggage. Only too few arms.

Syeira let's out a sound not unlike a shriek as Jaxelle comes up in front
of her twin, the small blonde's ears flinging wide. "Oh no, no no no.."
Dashing across on quick feet, she dimples a grin up at the Headwoman, so-so
innocently, and flops another skin toward Syeara's arms. "Oh no, we don't
mind working at all! Here, see, we'll just go off and offer these
around..." So saying, she flashes teeth at the woman, and bounds off in the
direction of Lady Kassi-Zuhluly and her Lord. "Care for some wine?" And
please, don't mind the way her nose scrunches at all the cooey-lovey-dovey
back-and-forths between the pair of them.

Zaidra seems not to realize where she's being tugged, or she does and is
perfectly happy to go along. "Well, you deserved it." And then she looks
worried, "Did you perform already? And I missed it?"

Syeara shakes her little golden head at Jaxelle "No m'am, this skin is for
the craftsecond. Sehe told us very particularly that we weren't to let
itout of our sight. And if I give it to you, then i'm disobeying her.
That's something that I just can't do." What a good little apprentice.
Windskin suddenly taken she oopses "I'd better talk to the air-head. Excuse
me." and she trops off after Syeira.

Albin just bobs a quick nod, smiling back, and -almost-, if not quite
dimpling back just as the craftsecond. "Oh, ok. Umm.... Katly, that's kinda
cute. And Albin works for me... no good way to shorten it though." Grinning
there, he follows with a shake of his head, and another nod. "'Said, I've
eaten, but something to drink wouldn't be half bad. And..." Scanning the
dance-area, "'Suppose I could, though I can't say I know many folks around
here just yet. Feels a little awkward, that."

Timbril chuckles softly up at Radar. "Indeed, they are quite the life of
the party," she comments drily. "As for forgiveness ... does his Lordship
ever truly deserve it?" she questions, mischief dancing in her eyes.

Faramen grins at Zaidra as he leads her into the dance itself. "Thanks.
Yes, I took an early turn so I'd have plenty of time to dance with all the
lovely ladies present."

F'lone laughs as the two go running off. "Inventive, aren't they?" he asks
Jaxelle with a grin.

<Weavers> Syeira baps Syeara. I'm *not* an air-head. *sniff*

Kassima turns about to greet her 'Lord' with the sweetest of smiles, teeth
flashing white and not too obviously sharp. "Oh, dearest, *is* it finally?
I thought 'twould never be; that charming Harper, he was good, but he just
wasn't *you*, loveypoodums. Ooh!" Now she gets to flash a smile at Syeira
too. "Aren't you a dear! I'd *love* some more wine, dearie, but my
wonderful studmuffin Lord is going t'be a darling and dance with me now;
d'you think we could get some after, though, oh, please?"

F'lone walks over to the nearby table and pours himself a glass of juice.
He turns to Jaxelle with a smile. "May I offer you a drink, my lady? Wine?
Juice? Klah?" he asks.

Jaxelle arches both brows very high as the little whirlwinds just sort of
bowl each other over in their efforts to get out of her line of sight. With
droll amuzement, she peers up at F'lone, a smirk across her lips. "You
know.. my Lady always told me I'd pay for my wicked ways. I never believed
her.. until now." The smirk melts into a wide grin, and the headwoman takes
the time to catch one of the blond evils eyes, letting them know silently
that there will be a 'talk' forthcoming in the morrow about all this. A
chuckle, sigh, and the woman shakes her head, curls swaying about her face,
"Ah well. Are you hungry, F'lone? I don't believe you've had a chance to
eat, yet ?"

<Weavers> Katlynn chokes, laughing.

I'sai senses Kassima adds in an undertone that, thank Faranth, lacks that
fruity accent, "Have I mentioned lately that your tolerance never ceases
t'be amazing me? --And what should I call you? I admit, 'Lord Loveypoodums'
does have a certain ring."

Jaxelle nods, a greatful look given the rider, "Juice, please. It's been
awhile since I've danced.. I'm out of shape!"

Jalar finally finishes a long duty playing instrumental backgup for a
number of others and goes to join the party.

<Weavers> Syeara pouts "Is there anybody here that isn't out to spoil our
fun?"

I'sai murmurs, "The more the merrier. Of wine, I mean. Please. When we're
done, yes? And what's your name, little one?" To the 'Lady' herself, "Of
-course- it's not the same. When you've gotten used to the one..." sort of
like an aftertaste.

Zaidra laughs, and moves with Faramen into the dance, lowering her voice to
tease softly, "And doing a good job, I'm sure. Even being nice to
partnerless weyrlings."

Radar lets several beats pass before saying, "I'm thinking, and if I can
ever think of a time I'll be sure to let you know."

You sense I'sai allows, eyes the lighter with laughter, "You may call me
that if you like. Tonight. But if I hear it back at Telgar..."

F'lone smiles and pours another glass of juice and hands it to Jaxelle.
"You don't look out of shape to me." he says, giving the headwoman an
admiring look. "And yes. I have eaten. I ate before we came over." he says
with a smile.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth suddenly visions one of the
sea-creatures, with eight - or is it ten? - and the black ink it jets; but,
alas, it has no wings.

I'sai senses Kassima agrees with entirely mock gravity, "I'll die a
thousand horrible deaths, I know. Still, wouldn't the expression on some
faces almost be worth it...." The glint in her sidelong glance does suggest
she's not truly serious.

"Of course it's cute," Katlynn agrees, arching brows high as she reaches
for two clean cups. "The name belongs to me." She grins then, and hefts up
a skin of wine, wiggling off the top with a small amount of effort. "Smell
it, tell me if it's okay?" Widening her eyes, she holds up the 'skin for
Albin, waving it back and forth in front of him. Blonde hair of course,
catches her eyes - and she simply quirks an amused grin in the twins
direction, not at all bothered by the trouble-making pair. Afterall, she's
done *much* worse, and when she was a Master to boot.

Faramen grins down at Zaidra, slight arrogance and good humor mingling in
his eyes. "Certainly when those partnerless weyrlings are also lovely
ladies," he responds quietly. His dancing isn't spectacular, but it's
competent enough.

"It's an illusion, I assure you. Chasing after /that/ pair is the only
thing that keeps me from /rolling/ everywhere I go." Jax nods with her chin
to indicate the twins, her smile wry as she accepts the juice offered. A
long sip, and she lets out a little groan of appreciation, dropping onto a
nearby bench and plucking a bit of cheese from one of the platters. She
motions about with it to those gathered, "Are you certain you wouldn't
prefer to find another to dance with? I'm sure there are several more than
willing.." she chortles as she spots one particularly taken apprentice who
can't seem to tear her eyes off the tall weyrling. "Positive,.. in fact."

Syeira lets a sigh kind of "thbbbt" out from between her lips, the air
puffing up the jagged-cut blonde fringe currently flopping across her brow.
"Are you *sure* you won't have some wine now? I assure you it is of the
*best*.. whats that word? Oh I dunno, that word all you wine-people use,
it's that." Head bobs sagely, and she flashes up a wide, toothy grin to
I'sai. "I'm Syeira, Sir. The best weaver apprentice since Katlynn herself."
Suck up.

You sense I'sai catches her meaning - "Almost, almost. Be good, or I'll
tell M'rgan that you like fur," but that last, that's gentler.

Esa finishes her juice, and her short break. She weaves her way through the
crowd, back to the performance platform, and rejoins the apprentices
playing the dance music.

After flashing yet another friendly smile, at her reply, Albin leans to
sniff the wineskin, and nods his approval shortly after. "Smells just
great. Think we've found ourselves a winner, here. I'll gladly take a cup."
Waiting for that, he turns his head to cast a look around again, eyes
hopping from face to unfamiliar face. "Can't say I've seen such a crowd
since I arrived, either."

"Only of wine?" Lady Kassi-Zuhluly mourns, and not at all in a murmur. "You
didn't say that the other *night*--oh, well, but more wine's always grand
too. And nay anyone could ever compare t'*you*." Beam. Lashes flutter. Then
they flutter some more. "*Pleasure* to meet you, dearie," she adds to the
young Weaver with a wide smile. "I'm Lady Zuhluly. This is Lord
Loveypoodums, my husband, and isn't he a *prize*?"

<Weavers> Katlynn says, "Ohmygod. Kassima, you just got even scarier. *lol*."

Zaidra laughs, delighted, "I won't argue with you," she responds. "But I
/am/ sorry I missed hearing you play."

I'sai senses Kassima hisses back in horror that would be more effective if
it weren't undercut by laughter's bubbles, "You *wouldn't*!"

F'lone smiles and sits down on the bench next to the headwoma. "I'm
positive. The company I have now is very wonderful." he says with a smile
as he grabs a slice of cheese also.

"Keep it for us, 'best weaver apprentice since Katlynn,'" I'sai's prompt to
suggest; and the 'Lady' gets as lecherous a leer as he can manage with a
straight face, which isn't very. "Yes, I beat out would-be Lord
Snicketysnack in the Jaxom-lookalike competition, but Snickerdoodle gave us
a closer shave in the, ah, -athletic- end of things."

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth can imagine wings, can imagine such a
creature flying above... can imagine black ink being squirted, to fall onto
those below. Ker-splash. Right on all the Weavers, and imagine the wails
that would begin then!

<Weavers> Katlynn says, "Aiee. You too, I'sai."

<Weavers> Sauscony knew she should have left Epona ;)

Telgar Weyr> Shawnah says, "Dood.. what's going on? :)"

<Weavers> Kassima thinks her character has been taking some recreational
pharmaceuticals while I wasn't looking. ;)

"You are -not- the best." Syeara exclain=ms loudly "Else you'd be Katlynn's
mentee and not me. You're just an air-head." She looks at the wineskin. "We
can try it and check that it tastes alright for you though. I think that's
our chore for the evening. "To make sure that the drinks are suitable for
our esteemed company" I think her words were." Then she just looks at the
Lord and Lady and takes a slow step backwards.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima's character got married, believe it or not. Sort of. ;)

"Well, lovely brownrider, it won't be long before you can simply pop down
to the Hall any time you desire to tax your ears with my playing," teases
Faramen. "Just don't visit when Master Kelset is trying to make me sing."

Timbril chuckles Radar's way. "You do that," she remarks with humor and
takes another bite from her tubers. "I trust that you yourself are well?"
she inquires then, manners swimming to the fore.

Telgar Weyr> Shawnah peeers. :)

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth shares a thought straight from his
rider: << And, so dyed, they'd require new clothes. >>

Telgar Weyr> Kichevio topples off her chair. WhowhatwhenwherewhyHOW?

Telgar Weyr> I'sai blames... *looks about* Timbril! Yeah.

Katlynn bats her lashes at the Steward, trying oh-so hard to contain a
snicker at the sight of the evil blondes fighting over there. "You'll get
to know everybody soon enough." She comments to Albin, while turning about
to fill two clean glasses to nearly brimming. One she holds out for the man
to take, while she leans down to try and sip some from her own, and thus
bring the level down before picking it up. Sighing then, she makes a
pathetic face toward those still dancing, and notes, "Conn left before he
could give me my promised dance. /Harpers/. Feh." And a grin then, brows
dancing up, "Ahh yes, this is a special night, which is why so many people
are about. To celebrate the change of seasons and all, you know." At least
that's the excuse.

I'sai winks at Syeara while he's at it, slightly more discreetly; and
claims, "I hadn't drunk -so- much wine, to see double!" different clothes
or not. "Come on, dear, let's dance; unless you truly want to claim one of
them as your pet?"

"Your singing cannot be as bad as you think it is, but I will visit, soon
as we're allowed. If I'd be welcome." Zai smiles.

Radar signals an apprentice, who brings him a small glass of wine and a big
plate of food. He nods and says, "Yes, thank you. I'm working on a
commission for Alaida, and came here to get some more supplies. Mostly
dyes, trim and new needles. I, uh, happened to time my trip for the party."

Kassima is no good at leering; that's proven fact--and, sadly, Zuhluly
isn't either. Even her affectionate return leer has something of a simper
about it. "Close," she obediantly concedes, "but still, you were the very,
very best, m'dearest, lustiest darling, which is good, because I hear
Snickerdoodle has some kind of scandalous Istan disease these days. And
you'd *never* come home with a pernicious Istan disease, would you,
sweetums?" To the two Apprentices, solemnly: "Avoid Istan men, dearie. You
never know *where* they've been... ooh, aye, sweetums, I'm all for dancing!
We can come back to the subject of pets *later*."

"Syeira, Syeara!" Jaxelle calls sharply, catching the rise of voice with
keen ears. She meerly gives a tight little warning smile if she catches
their eyes, then turns back to F'lone, "Well thank you. Boring, company -
I'm afraid.. Somehow I went from being the cause of the trouble to being
the solution." she chuckles softly and bites off a chunk of her cheese,
chewing and swallowing with pleasure. "Hmm.. So, what do you think of weyr
life so far? The sands.. I still remember the heat to this day. But you
must be thrilled to have found your lifemate!"

Jalar's head snaps around at the mention of /the/ name. His eyes focus in
on Radar and he listens intently.

"Conn?" Unfamiliar name, obviously. Albin just nods a little, however,
taking his glass and sipping at it in turn, whilst continuing to watch the
antics unfolding all about. "Oh, I'm sure I will. It's no big deal, just a
little strange, like always, being somewhere new. I'm sure I'll make do,
though."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima is married to I'sai now. Right, sweetiesnookums? ;)

Telgar Weyr> Shawnah stares.

Faramen chuckles genially, confident that his playing makes up for his lack
of singing talent. "Of course you'd be welcome, Zaidra. How could it be
otherwise?" Jalar's sudden reaction attracts his attention and he glances
over Zaidra's head at whatever the other apprentice is staring at.

Telgar Weyr> Ceria gasps!

"Oh Faranth's fat tush.." Syeira exclaims at her evil twin, brows arching
until they nearly reach her hairline and disappear beneath her bangs. "You
are *not* as good as me. That's why Kat menteed you. To make you better!
Humph!" Poking her tongue out, she whirls on a heel, with a quick promise
toward I'sai and Kassima: "I'll save this one for you two, Fair Lady and
her dashing Lord!" At hearing her name, she half-turns, and curves an
innocent grin toward Jaxelle, then strolls off toward Timbril and Radar.
"Wine?"

"No pernicious Istan diseases," I'sai promises. "Unless Keara brought -
Right, dance, lots of dancing here," and he escorts her toward the dance
floor, not without an approving nod to Radar - Radar and _Timbril_ - along
the way.

F'lone winces slightly as the headwoman yels. He gives her a grin.
"Actually. It's not much different that my life on the holding. Lots of
chores, exercises and such. I was actually surprised when I Impressed." he
says.

Telgar Weyr> Kichevio notes the day's second Sign of Apocalypse. ;)

Telgar Weyr> I'sai now has to ask what the first Sign was.

Telgar Weyr> Shawnah says, "What was the first? .. my braincell."

Jalar finds a glass of cool juice, then walks over to stand next to Radar,
still listening.

Radar goes into a little more detail. "I finished two dresses for her, and
am working on her more casual clothes today. The fun part was working on a
dress suitable for cooler weather---the model started to sweat every time
she put it on."

Kassima allows herself to be led away, even indulging in a minimum of
flounces en route. Though even the approach to the dance floor can't
forestall her need to ask, suspiciously, "*Keara*? Who's this Keara,
hubbykins? You haven't been doing things with feathers and trundlebugs
behind my *back*, surely?"

Telgar Weyr> Kichevio steals the braincell to prevent further
arguments...my boss actually let me have a full hour for lunch.

Telgar Weyr> K'ran rolls to disbelieve?

Telgar Weyr> Shawnah says, "Gasp!"

Timbril nods, listening. "Ah -- comissions are good business yes?" she
inquires and her lips turn up slightly at the corners. "Alaida? I am
unfamiliar with the name." She acknowledges Jalar with a slight nod.
"Apprentice."

Jalar nods respectfully to the Headwoman, "Alaida is green Devath's of Ista."

<Weavers> I'sai says, "What's the Pernese equivalent of a pool boy?"

Radar turns a brilliant shade of red at the name *Keara*. He coughs and
chokes, and has to pound his chest to get himself under control.

<Weavers> Br'nal says, "P'tod"

<Weavers> Radar says, "Ummm, Br'nal!" :)

Having located the conversation that attracted Jalar's attention, Faramen
turns his own attention back to more pleasant and immediate concerns than
his fellow apprentice's infatuation with the Istan greenrider, like the
lovely brownrider he's dancing with.

<Weavers> Br'nal grins

Jaxelle grins at that admission, nodding briefly. "I don't think I've ever
met someone who really expected to impress..well.. I have, but no one worth
mentioning!" she laughs, her eyes sparkling at the memory of the more
arrogant would-be riders she'd met. The cheese is waved about again, taking
in the festivities, "So this must be a rather nice break for you then, hmm?
Our little get together?"

<Weavers> Br'nal suspects it would be one of those half-naked, clad only in
loin-cloth palm leaf bearers that Rilsa's always talking about.

Timbril's brows lift upward a little. "Are you all right Journeyman?" she
inquires colicitously of Radar. Then another slight nod given toward Jalar.
"Ah. A young rider then," she says in a neutral tone that betrays little
interest in the topic. "The clothes then, are interesting to make?" she
returns to the subject at hand, namely Radar's actual commission.

Zaidra notices Faramen's attention shift, away, and then back, and asks,
"Something wrong?"

Syeara takes hold of another wineskin and makes her way over to the
apprentice harpers, apprently having decided that her twin is indeed...
quite mad. she sits herself down so that she's not in the way and waits for
them to be free to offer them their well deserved drinks. In the meantime
however, she watches the scene with interest. Especially the craftsecond,
who may be in for another prime position in a story.

F'lone laughs and nods. "Yes. A much needed break. Our training, lately,
has become so intence, that, as soon as we finish for the day, I only have
the strength to crawl onto the couch with Hroth before I'm asleep." he says
before taking another drink of his juice.

Lysseth> Taralyth senses that Lysseth supposes, considering, << They
probably would not make pleasant replacements-- >> A sentiment which is
accompanied by a mental image of dozens of Weavers, all in different shades
of pastel lace, men as well as women; lace on leathers, lace on boots, lace
threaded through jewelry, lace strung through the boughs of the Bollian
trees like a Pernese toilet-papering gone horribly wrong.

Tirom wanders until he eventually seems kind of bored. He brightens again
though as he spots Jaxelle, and wanders over closer, starting to say
something, then stopping.

"Just practicing till you could watch," I'sai says sweetly, "Weren't you
busy with that stablehand, the one who trains the runner with -such- a
smooth ride..." and takes up the song's first steps; meanwhile, he murmurs
more sincerely - and meant for her ears alone - "Think they're doing all
right? Weyrlings've not been out for long, but they _look_ good - "

Telgar Weyr> Schmitt peers at the roster/where. They're all getting
buttless pants!

Offering Katlynn a few more words, and eventually some sort of goodbye,
Albin finishes off his wine, and then starts back up the trail. Something
about 'business' and 'getting settled', for those who might catch a word or
two, and then he's off.

Telgar Weyr> F'lone gasps and pokes Schmitt.

Albin steps toward the WeaverCraft Hall.

Faramen shakes his head, grinning. "No, nothing at all. Tell me more about
Ymedath, would you? I haven't met him."

Telgar Weyr> Shawnah woowoos!

[Editor's Note:  I'sai got disconnected here, alas.]

Syeira looks around for her other half - and spots her over with the
Harpers. Making a face, she slings the skin of wine over her shoulder,
hunching slightly to that side, and plods along to find her, plopping
herself down cross-legged to watch.

Radar shakes his head several times. "No, no! That's not it at all.
Alaida's clothes are just normal casual clothes. I just got a tickle in my
throat is all." No way will he admit just whose name triggered that tickle.

Jalar looks on intently as Radar speaks, "Do you have the clothes here? I'd
be very interested in seeing them."

Jaxelle gives a sympathetic look to F'lone over the edge of her mug, tipped
as it is so she might drink down a bit more of her own drink. Lowering it,
she opens her mouth, then widens it into a grin as Tirom approaches. "Well,
there's the talented pipe player I so adore! Tirom, your playing was
/beautiful/! I could hardly believe my ears!" she gushes, beaming up at
him. A wave of her hand between the two males and she makes introductions,
"Tirom.. please meet F'lone, F'lone, this is Tirom."

<Weavers> Javin snuggles Kitty.

Zaidra smiles softly, "He's...smallish - for a dragon - and sort of...klah
and cream colored...and he's resting in the fields right now, if you want
to meet him later."

<Weavers> Katlynn sniffs. Aw. Somebody loves me *snicker*. Come play down
at the beach, Jav?

<Weavers> Javin Sure.

"But, but, but loveydovumspie, you swore the feathers were just for *us*,"
Lady Kassi-Zuhluly sniffles, trying and failing to produce a fake tear or
two. "I didn't do any of *our* Special Things with that stablehand; you
know I wouldn't do *that*. I'm going t'have t'come up with some fitting
penance for you when we get home." Pause. "A'course, that can be fun
*too*...." Concentrating on getting through this first measure without
maiming her dear Lord gives her ample excuse to trail off, and likewise
opportunity to drop her voice and murmur back, "Methinks so; a bit of
flirtation going on, mayhaps... but 'tis surely harmless, and I'd warrant
they're having fun."

Faramen grins down at Zaidra, though the expression has a quickly
suppressed hint of wistfulness to it. "Of course! I'd love to meet him," he
says gallantly.

<Weavers> Radar worships you, Katlynn. And your dresses. :)

Javin ambles down the sandy path from the WeaverCraft to the beach.

F'lone smiles as Tirom approaches. "Evening, sir." he says to the harper.

Timbril's eyes remain on the young weaver for a moment, head tipped to the
side. She sips slowly from her glass and then nods. "Ahh. Not much interest
in that then is there?" she comments, still neutrally. "Might want to see a
HEaler about that tickle, can't be too careful with one's health." Next
it's Jalar who earns lifted brows. "Why in Faranth's name would you want to
see another person's clothes, young man?" she directs to the apprentice
harper, a hint of some sort of suspicion hovering in blue eyes. "Especially
the sort that have little interest, being of the 'normal' stripe and
nothing above the usual for so talented a Weaver as Journeyman Radar here?"

<Weavers> Katlynn laughs. Oooh. Thank-you.

Zaidra peers up at the harper. "Faramen, you don't have to just to humor
me. But you can, if you want."

<Weavers> Syeara thinks it's usually Katlynn's lack of dresses that usually
get admired.. So that's a nice change :)

Tirom smiles happily again as Jaxelle says that, and says, "Really think
so? Thanks.." Then he bows to F'lone, "Hello."

<Weavers> Javin laughs!

<Weavers> Jaxelle splutters then clears her throat and looks innocent.

<Weavers> Katlynn just......doesn't comment, nope.

F'lone smiles and nods, agreeing with Jaxelle. "Yes. You play wonderfully,
Tirom."

<Weavers> Javin says, "prolly better that way KAt :)"

<Weavers> Syeira says, "Probably, yes."

Radar shakes his head and says, "I'm sorry, but I don't have her clothes
here. Just the raw material to make them. I'm using mostly linen, with a
little simple trim. And some embroidery around the edges and maybe on the
shirt."

Faramen's smile is a bit more often as the dance ends and he leads the
former Healer to the edge of the dance floor. "I'd love to meet him,
Zaidra, truly."

<Weavers> Katlynn errs. That was me, really. Not her. O:)

Faramen's smile is a bit more open as the dance ends and he leads the
former Healer to the edge of the dance floor. "I'd love to meet him,
Zaidra, truly."

Jalar blanches at the upbraiding, "I.. I am sorry, ma'am. Please, I meant
no offense. I... um... I'm Jalar, Senior Apprentice Harper. I know Alaida
... very well. She is ... my dearest friend in all of Pern."

Zaidra nods then, "Any time you want...now, later, whenever. But, you /can/
call me 'Zai' you know."

Jaxelle nods firmly, her chin bobbing stubbornly up and down, her eyes
closed for a moment in somber reassurance - her expression half daring
anyone to disagree. She flashes a smile at F'lone as he agrees, then
returns it to Tirom and pats the bench on the other side of herself, "Come
sit down, take a rest! Have you had anything to drink?" Before he can
answer, the headwoman is up, gathering a mug and a juice pitcher. "Are you
hungry, sweetie? F'lone, Tirom has only been playing for what? Two turns
now, Tirom? Yeesh the time just flies... I've known him since he was nine,
you see."

Javin glances around and waves to Katlynn. A bundle of hides tucked under
his arm.

Tirom grins and sits down in the offered seat. "A little thirsty, and
really hunrgy," he answers with a grin.

"Javin! Hello! Glad you could make it down here! We've all been swamped
with so much hide-work lately, I wasn't sure if you'd have a chance to
escape." Grinning brightly, Katlynn works her way across to where the
Scribe stands. Raking a hand back through her hair, she leans in,
whispering something to him in a conspiritoral tone, before dropping back
onto her heels and casting a look around. "Just dump those hides, will you?
I don't want *any( reminders of work down here tonight! It's to be a merry
occasion, and *work* is *not* merry. Do be a dear and go and whollop those
twins if they cause any trouble?" Dimpling brightly at him, she motions
toward where daughters-of-wherries are seated, whispering, "I'm sure
they're up to no good, *and* I heard that my mentee has quite the crush on
you!"

Katlynn mutters to Javin, "... dance,... sure... *adore*... the evening...
would... getting... to... good."

Faramen's eyes twinkle as he teases, "Oh, may I, Zai? Why, thank you!"

Kichevio ambles down the sandy path from the WeaverCraft to the beach.

Javin glances up and then back to the hides and then blushes brightly as
katlynn wispers to him. "Well..are you sure?"

Zaidra blushes, "Sorry. You knew that. Mostly, the only people who call me
'Zaidra' are people who're mad at me. Is there fruit juice over there?
We're not allowed alcohol just yet."

Radar says, "Thanks, Timbril! I appreciate the compliment." He drinks a
little juice and doesnt' say anything else for a little while.

Kichevio walks into the bonfire-circle--slowly--looking around at the
crowds with a smile. "Ah, civilization. Parties. I'd almost forgotten what
they were like." Hearing Zai's mention of redfruit juice, she begins
steering in that direction.

F'lone's eyes glaze over a moment before he stands. "If you two will excuse
me. I need to find I'sai."

Jaxelle pours some juice into a mug and slips that into Tiroms hands before
turning back to the table.. this time a plate is snatched up and huge
portions of just about anything within reach are piled high onto it's
surface. A finger is poked at one dish, wiped along the rim, and tasted
before the headwoman apparently decides it's tasty enough to add as well.
Finally, she returns, shoving the massive assortment at the apprentice
harper with a brilliant smile. "There you go, brat! Eat up." She slides
back onto the bench and nods as F'lone takes his leave, "Of course. It was
a pleasure, F'lone.. thank you again for the dance!"

Faramen grins at Zaidra again. "There's cider, I believe. Possibly some
redfruit juice as well. I didn't check. I rather like the sound of
'Zaidra'. 'Zai' is so... short." His lessons at the Harper Hall are
obviously paying off, as he manages to give the brownrider's full name a
lyrical edge that's certainly not compatible with anger.

Timbril's eyes rest thoughtfully on Jalar for a moment. "Best friend in all
of Pern ..." she says slowly. "Hmmmm ... I think an Apprentice might do
well to wait until he or she walks the tables to have a 'best friend' in
all of Pern," she says lightly, but her expression warms a touch. "Well met
Senior Apprentice Jalar," says the Telgarian headwoman and she holds out
her hand. "Timbril, Headwoman at Telgar Weyr," she returns the formal
introduction, then winks at Radar. "I always give compliment where it's
due. You did quite a nice job on the things you made last you visited the
Weyr."

Javin finds a passing drude and stops him. "Please place these hides bacl
on my worktable and make sure they don't get runined."

Katlynn chuckles brightly at Javin, her eyebrows dancing upward in
amusement. "Of course I'm sure, dear. Go on, off with you!" She makes to
give a playful kick to the man's backside - hitching her skirts up with one
hand, the better to save her dress from ruin. "And here, wait," Ducking
down, she plucks a wildflower--or is that weed?--from the sand, dusting off
the tiny grains before pressing it into Javin's hand with a playful wink.
"Tuck this into her hair. I'm afraid I must have forgotten to mention the
evening to the twins, they're not at all dressed up for it." Swirling
around then, she issues a merry, "Weaver's duties, Rider." To Kichevio, and
waves a hand toward the refreshment table. "Do have something to eat and
drink."

Syeara elbows Syeira in the side and points over towards Katlynn. "Look."
That's all she says for now, as she unstoppers the wineskin that she still
holds, drinking from it before passing it over to her twin.

<Weavers> Katlynn laughs! Javin I swear I thought you just stopped a
passing /dude/ not a drudge. *cackle*.

Jalar relaxes just a touch and reaches out to cover the offered palm, "I am
pleased to meet you, Timbril."

<Weavers> Kassima thought for a sec he stopped a passing druid. Too much
Baldur's Gate lately, me? ;)

Zaidra smiles, "And you say you can't sing. Faramen, when /you/ say my
whole name, it sounds pretty, musical, even." She's teasing a little, but
pleased as well. "Let me have a drink, and then, if you want, you can meet
Yme before you whisk someone else onto the dance floor?"

Kichevio smiles to Katlynn. "Thank you, and I will. Is there any special
occasion for all this?" As she advances purposefully toward the snack table.

F'lone walks over towards Kassima, not having found I'sai. "Kassima. May I
be excused. Hroth's not feeling very good, so I was going to take him
home." he asks.

Syeira leans across to murmur something to Syeara, grinning from
ear-to-ear, her eyes locked pointedly on Javin. With one hand, she sweeps a
gesture toward the Scribe, while she continues jabbering on in a chipper
tone to her twin, voice dropped low enough so that only a few words catch
and drift on the wind.

Syeira mutters to Syeara, "... over... and... Lucky... I... I... you...
into... seen... sister.. I'm... of you!"

Faramen beams at Zaidra. "It would be my pleasure," he says honestly. He
reaches for two glasses of juice as a server passes by with a trayful,
offering one to Zaidra. "I'm afraid that we'll have to be quick about it,
though, since I can tell that I'll be up for another set soon."

Kassima pauses in the dance she's still, ostensibly, engaged in with I'sai
to consider F'lone. "I should imagine," she says after a moment's
hesitation, in her Kassima-voice rather than her Lady Zuhluly-voice. "Just
find a rider who can be escorting you; methinks I overheard R'der saying he
and Taxith were going home soon."

Javin walks over to where the twins are and smiles. "Evening ladies." he
tilts his head to the both of them.

Syeira mutters to Syeara.

F'lone smiles and nods. "Thanks, Kassima." he says before going to search
for R'der. He finds him a moment later over near the water with Taxith.
They talk quietly a moment before Hroth comes over and F'lone mounts up.
R'der also mounts Taxith and they launch into the air.

Kichevio lifts her hand, now that she has her drink, and greets Zai and
Kassi with a wave and smile. "Happy impromptu Bonfire night!"

Syeara shrugs off giving the wine to Syeira and takes another drink. "Don't
be such a wherry-head." she snorts after Syeira whispers to her. "You're
just a strange, sad little girl sometimes. Oh!" she looks up and smiles at
Javin, while she pokes Syeira in the ribs again with her elbow. "Evening
Sir, Would you like to take a seat near Syeira, the sand is very
comfortable here."

F'lone grabs ahold of Hroth's straps and pulls himself up onto Hroth's back.

Timbril tsks lightly at Jalar. "That's 'Headwoman' to you, young man --
such manners they're teaching at Harper Hall these days," returns Timbril,
but her tone isn't overly scolding.

Zaidra takes the proffered fruit juice, and sips some, commenting, "Well,
maybe I'll get to hear you play, then, before N'pece or I'sai makes us all
go home? Don't let me distract you from your duties, though."

"No, no special occassion. Just an informal gathering. Conn was here
earlier to play for us - he owed me a favour." Indeed, that 'favour' seems
to have blown into a full-on event, and Katlynn looks more than pleased.
Sweeping up her skirts again, she strolls over to the serving table,
checking over the selection. "You there, not you -you-." An apprentice
currently flinging tuber-chunks around looks up, his dark eyes going rather
wide at being caught out by the Craftsecond. "Be a dear and run up to the
Kitchens. We're in need of some more wine." The boy flashes a toothy grin,
and darts up the pathway, disppearing around the bend.

An Istan rider is wandering through the crowd aimlessly, until he spies
Radar. He cups his hands around his mouth and bellows, "I'm done, Weaver!
Time to go home!" Radar groans and says, "Seems like my ride is here. Thank
you for the talk, and I hope to see you both later!"

Tirom grins up to Jaxelle, "Thanks." He starts to eat, hungrily but tidily.
He takes a drink of juice after a bit, glances around, and then looks up to
Jaxelle. "Lotsa people here, huh?"

Javin grins and nods taking a seat. "So are you two up to trouble again?"

Jalar nods, perhaps a bit stiffly, "Of course, ma'am. My apologies for my
impropriety."

Faramen chuckles, flashing Zaidra one of his better 'innocent' smiles.
"This is a party, right? Other than playing my sets, I have no higher than
seeing to the pleasure of the guests."

Radar rises and makes his excuses to Timbril and Jalar, and tries to catch
Katlynn's eye to wave goodbye. Finally he just gives up and follows his
ride back to the dragon.

Syeira giggles, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink. "I'm not getting up to
trouble, but -she- is." She grins, hooking a thumb toward her sister.
"She's been *itching* to have someone dance with her, too. Oh, is that a
flower in your hand?" Widening her eyes until they fairly bug out of her
head, she leans forward, perhaps to get a better look at the thing in the
Scribe's hand. "Well, you better give it to Syeara." Firm nod.

Radar strides toward the WeaverCraft Hall.

Kassima steps off the dance floor to flutter on over to Kich, though she
stops along the way to pick up the belated glass of wine. "Why, *heyla*,
dearie! What a pleasure t'meet you! And Mucketymuckamuck's duties to your
Weyr, a'course--my goodness, you're one of those *greenriders*, aren't you?
Well, don't you try t'be seducing my snookywookums; he's already going t'be
in big trouble when he gets home."

While Tirom eats, Jaxelle keeps an eye on the twins, her lips quirking at
the edges into a look of good humor as Javin approaches and the two perk
right up. "Well at least they're occupied.." she murmers to herself. When
Tirom speaks once more, she gives a light nod and smiles more genuinely,
pulling her legs up and hooking one elbow on her right kneecap. "It's ended
in quite a decent turnout." she agrees, "Do you go on such outtings often?"

Tirom nods quickly to Jaxelle and smiles. "To almost every one that
happens. Or try to, anyway. The best so far was the High Reaches music
night. Except when the dragons decided to sing for us. Thought I wouldn't
be able to hear again it was so loud!" He grins.

Kichevio blinks several times at this greeting, unorthodox even for Kassi,
but answers with remarkable poise. All things considered. "Telgar's duties
to Mucketymuckamuck, of course. And yes, I am one of those nefarious
greenriders, but I promise that your 'snookywookums' is safe from me, for
now. Though the next time I visit your Hold, I make no promises. Reputation
to uphold and all."

Zaidra glances over at Kassima, laughing, and then offers, "Well, if you
want, you could come meet him now? Before your next set?"

Jaxelle lets loose a merry laugh at the mention of High Reaches and it's
dragons, bobbing her head happily, "I can just imagine! And I would bet my
last mark that G'rad's Behemoth was loudest one there!" She grins, fondly,
and looks a little wistful for the moment, shaking it off in the next
heartbeat as she dances a look around at the goings ons. "Hmm.. it really
is a lovely get together." she muses, then, with a curious look turned on
the young harper, "Tirom -- you mentioned Edris is from Tillek? I don't
believe I met her.. was she there while I was?"

Faramen follows Zaidra's glance towards the greenrider/Lady Holder,
grinning faintly. "You know, that might be a god idea. There's no telling
what notions will occur to some people." His eyes twinkle. "You might be
suddenly called back to the Weyr."

Tirom nodnods quickly, and says, "Though she was only part of the time, she
was at her family's cothold most of the time. I hardly even met her before
she came to the Hall. But I know she was Dunkin's favourite victim."

"This is true. He's...Um..." Zaidra looks around, trying to get her
bearings. "Whichever way the fields are?" and she blushes again. "Don't let
any of the older rider's know I got lost, please?"

"Well, dearie, just so you know that the *last* woman who seduced my
snookywookums apparently came away with a scandalous Istan disease," Lady
Kassi-Zuhluly warns, serene. "But I'm sure Loveypoodums knows *better* than
t'do that again now. Ooh! But I haven't introduced m'self, how awful of me!
I'm Lady Zuhluly. I'd point you towards m'dear husband, Lord Loveypoodums,
but methinks he's gone off t'get wine or something. Or mayhaps he's buying
pickles for later. You just never know."

Faramen tucks Zaidra's hand on his arm, setting their glasses aside. "Your
secret's safe with me, I promise," he says, as trustworthy as any Harper
promising not to talk about something. "I think it's this way."

Syeara elbows Syeira even harder "Now, Syeira dear, you know how you love
flowers, I'm sure that there's one of the riders or journeyrank that it
would be better for Javin to give his flower" or weed "to than us. Or.."
she looks over to Javin and grins "Or I could look after it while you and
Syeira go off and dance. I think that I've had a little too much of this
wine to go spinning around. She hasn't had anything though." She takes
another swig, just to prove the point.

Jaxelle groans and chortles, one hand coming up to mock-slap her forhead at
the mention of her younger brother. "Oh Faranth, Dunkan! Now there's one
I'd rather not think on.. I don't know if that boy will /ever/ grow up!"
She turns a bemused look on Tirom, brows lifted faintly in sympathy for
this Edris person, "And she's not having to visit a mind healer after that
kind of torture?"

Kichevio looks thoughtful, tapping a finger to her chin. "Lord
Loveypoodums, is it? That name sounds familiar. At that Fort Gather, with
the masks and...?...no, that was someone else. Oh well, I'm sure if I see
him I'll remember. Getting wine and pickles, is he? Smart man. You never
know when those might come in handy."

Faramen and Zaidra wander off in the direction of the field where the
Telgar dragons are enjoying the evening.

Katlynn strolls over to a low bench, dropping down to perch daintily on
it's edge, It seems the time has come for comfort - so she slips off her
sandals, rolling up the long straps that accompy then, and tucks them under
the edge of the bench. Knees drawn up to her chest, she's able to lean down
and rest her chin there, arms folded around her ankles. "Syeara, stop
drinking that wine this *instant*." Gee, she wasn't even looking at the
blonde apprentices when she said that, either.

Tirom grins, shaking his head quickly. "Just took me a while to convince
her all of us weren't like him."

S'rist strolls down the sandy path from the WeaverCraft to the beach.

"Tonight, ideally," Lady Zuhluly purrs in her rather fruity tones. "But
we'll just have t'see. He's been *very* naughty with some lady named Keara,
after all." A moment is spared for a wiggle of fingers after the departing
Weyrling and her parter; then, Kassi-Zuhluly adds brightly, "But I'm sure
he'll never stray *again*; he's such a sweet widdle studmuffikins. The
sweetest studmuffikins ever. He even puts up with the goat tapestries, can
you believe it?"

Timbril nods as Radar excuses himself and her lips twitch just a little at
Jalar's assumption of a more formal manner. "There you go, much better
lad," she says gaily now. "Care for a bit of wine?" she offers over to the
young harper. "Watered of course -- one your age shouldn't be over-indulging."

Jalar spots the Istan Weyrleader and moves over to greet him, "Evening, Sir."

Syeira just an elbow out, the better to wiggle it into her twin's ribs. "I
hate flowers." She humphs, sniffing. "Can't /stand/ 'em, but Syeira does.
She goes possibly ga-ga over the type you've got in your hand, too." Yay
for the weed! Chuckling, she reaches to scoop up another wine-skin, and
drains some into her mouth - carefully of course, trying not to let the
Craftsecond notice.

S'rist gives a bit of a call out, something to do with 'reaches duties, as
he makes his way out into the beach.

Jalar spots the 'Reaches Weyrleader and moves over to greet him, "Evening,
Sir."

S'rist smiles, "Good evening Jalar, thanks again for the lullaby, it worked
wonders tonight."

Kichevio's eyes widen slightly at the 'goat tapestries', but she recovers
quickly. "How very good of him. Some men might find them too distracting,
all things considered. Even if they are...studmuffikins."

Jaxelle blinks slowly in consideration, then turns and leans towards Tirom,
blue gaze curious as it meets his. "Oh?" she inquires, her lips sliding up
a notch, "And what prompted that? Is she.. interesting?" The woman's grin
goes higher, then she blinks and whirls about, spotting S'rist. "be right
back!" she tells Tirom, then rises and dashes through the crowd. "S'rist!"
she cries, delighted, a whirlwind suddenly reverted to childhood, arms out.

Timbril sniffs a little as the Apprentice Harper moves off without so much
as aby your leave and returns to her wine and a single solitary pastry
still on her plate. She shakes her head as the crowd swirls all the more.

Jalar smiles and turns a bit pink, "You're welcome, sir. And, please do
tell Matheny that I am still so surprised that Jenryth flew us home. It was
quite an honor."

Syeara looks a little guilty for once, not enough to stop her from takin
another swig as she stoppers the wineskin again. How does that woman see
them. "It was Syeira, ma'am" she calls out to Katlynn as she points "See.
she's drinking it now."

S'rist grins and gives Jaxelle a hug-spin-setback on her feet. "Heya there
Jax, how're you doing?" He grins towards the harper, "Well, I think she was
going to ask me, but I was already snoring she told me."

Kassima has to concur with another of the now trademark gusty sighs, "Oh,
aye, they're *very* distracting; why Mumsy even hung them up over the
*necessaries* I just don't know, but we manage t'cope somehow. And someday
we'll have enough money t'remake Mucketymuckamuck good and proper like we
*should*. If'n we only hadn't spent so much on the wedding!"

Jaxelle laughs as she's twirled, grinning hugely as she's set back to her
feet. Stepping back, she beams up at the weyrleader, "I'm wonderful! How
are /you/? And Matheny? What about G'rad and Yenne and..oh, everyone!!??"
She's yet to notice the small issue involving the twins - much to their
good fortune.

Zaidra slips off, escorted home by N'pece.

Zaidra heads toward the WeaverCraft Hall.

"Names hold no meaning to me, young apprentice." Katlynn calls out in a
cheerfully-chipper tone to Syeara, still not bothering to even glance
across in their direction. "I know it was you drinking the wine, Syeira
isn't at all as evil as you." Still, there is Weyrleader visiting their
beach, so the Craftsecond uncurls herself, hopping up from the bench to
stroll across and offer polite duties and the like. "Evening, Weyrleader."
She smiles pleasantly, a rather broad grin settling across her lips as
Jaxelle seems know the man well - and strolls off to check on the serving
tables again, keeping herself busy.

S'rist smiles, "The weyr is in good shape, Math is doing just fine. Pretty
much everyone is doing well. And you're doing well down here?"

<Weavers> Katlynn *wishes* that 'young padowan' was canon.

<Weavers> I'sai read that at first as 'young pokemon.'

<Weavers> Katlynn snerks. Yeah. "Syeara the pikachu."

<Weavers> Jaxelle says, "Gotta catchem all gotta catchem all!"

Kichevio lifts an eyebrow, even as she tosses a quick salute toward the
'Reaches Weyrleader. "Such a grand expensive wedding and I never heard of
it? What a pity! How long ago was it--I'm sure I should remember."

<Weavers> Syeara will answer to either.. Noo. not a pikachu. *dares Jax to
say anything else*

<Weavers> Jaxelle says, "Jiiiigllyyy puffff... jigglyyyy puffff!"

<Weavers> Jaxelle ducks!

<Weavers> Syeara grins "You want to go here, Jax?"

<Weavers> Katlynn shudders. I can't stand that show. *lol*.

<Weavers> Jaxelle mwahaha's! "We could... but it's a scary place."

<Weavers> Syeara laughs 'Where's Meril when you need her?"

"A very, very, very short time ago; we haven't been married long at *all*,
but we've had all sorts of fun already," the dubious Lady Kassi-Zuhluly
assures, with a wide and toothsome smile. "Our Hold is so small, I don't
know how many people heard, but we had the full traditional wedding, we
really did. With the contest t'determine who'd get t'marry me and
everything! There were just *tons* of eligible young men lining up; I
nearly *swooned* when I saw them all."

Jaxelle grins broadly, nodding her head an emphatic 'yes!' in responce.
"Quite well, in fact.. the poor misguided hall decided I would make a fit
enough headwoman." A glance is cast at the twins, and just now does she
spot the proximity to the wineskins once more. A sigh, and her shoulders
slump, one hand coming up to run through her curls. "Though I'm not too
sure about it myself, at the moment. I think my old ways are revisiting
upon me as punishment." a chuckle slips from her.

"Tons of eligible young men?" Kichevio approves of this idea, oh yes. "My,
I wish I'd been able to attend. Couldn't you have married several of them,
just to make as many people as possible happy? Or did Lord Loveypoodums nix
that idea?"

Timbril nibbles on pastry and props her chin up in one hand, eyes on the
various scenes in the crowd playing out around her. She observes with
twinkling eyes and a half smile on her face.

S'rist chuckles a bit, "Well, it would be only fitting according to what
I've heard some say about you. Don't let me keep you from your duties, we
can catch up after all the hustle and bustle quiets down."

Javin looks towads the girls. "Oh? What is going on here?"

Kassima shakes her head slowly, sadly. "Alas, the Conclave just wouldn't
*hear* of several Lords or aught; they're so *conservative* sometimes,
really, I just don't *understand* them. But," and here she brightens, "it
turned out t'be quite all right, because my Loveypoodums was the very best
in *all* aspects of the competition, and nay anyone else could be the same
*anyway*."

Jaxelle throws a greatful look at S'rist, "Of course. Enjoy, and I'll speak
with you soon!" That said, she slinks off through the crowds, making no
noise until she suddenly pops out from behind a rather broad journeyman to
stand, hands on her hips, before the twins. "Both of you, stay put!" she
warns, before either might think up an escape route.

Syeara makes the most of the opportunity with all the important people
talking to open up that wine again. "Syeira wants to dance with you. Off
intothe sunset somewhere I think that's what she said." All this of course
with the most serious expressions "Aargh!" That obviously to Jaxelle "You
scared me. I could have spilt this wine of Javin's," she splutters as she
tries to hand the skin over quickly.

Syeira pops the top back onto the wineskin cradled in her lap, wiggling it
down until it sits snug back in place. "Huh?" She stares at her twin with a
dumb expression, one brow quirking slightly upward. "I don't know what your
talking about? Really Syeara, you shouldn't try to blame everything on
me.." Dimply a bright smile up at Jaxelle, she holds out the wineskin she
had been sipping from and offers, "Go and share that around, Headwoman?
It's a lovely vintage." Ahh, so she *does* know the right word.

Javin blinks and shakes his head. "I knew it, you two are up to something
no good."

Kichevio chuckles, eyes twinkling. "Best in _all_ areas? You tested that
out quite thoroughly before you declared him the victor, I don't doubt."

"With pickles and feathers and porcines, oh my," Lady Kassi-Zuhluly
solemnly, if with a few bats of lashes, agrees.

"I'm being perfectly good! Syeara protests to Javin "I'm sharing my wine
with you and everything." Taking the cue from Syeira she holds up the skin
to Jaxelle "Wine Headwoman?"

<Weavers> Shylana wavers. Bonfire going well?

*Snatch!* First one wineskin then the other is snatched out of the twins
hands by the obviously rather displeased Jaxelle, blue eyes glittering
dangerously as they narrow. The wineskins are tossed onto the nearest
table, and in a low voice, she makes her demand. "Breath!" She leans down,
sticking her pert little nose directly in front of of Syeara's mouth, then
draws back, nose crinkled. "Not even necessary. And /you/ will show some
respect, young lady.. if that word is even appropriete for you at this
moment!" A finger is aimed and jabbed at Syeira. "I have let you off the
hook.. I have encouraged you to have fun.. and /this/ is how you repay my
trust!" She sucks in a deep breath, steps back, and crosses her arms. "I am
/deeply/ ashamed and disappointed in each of you. You may remove yourselves
immediately to your rooms. I will be up shortly to tell you how you're
going to make up for this slight." No room for argument. The tone is "MOVE.
Now."

<Weavers> Katlynn noddles. Yup :)

Kichevio is reduced to rapid blinks again. That mental image was just a
_bit_ much for her to deal with. "Oh my," she finally agrees.

<Weavers> Shylana noddles. Okiedokie. Sorry I couldn't be there... Getting
my little self thrown all over the place.

<Weavers> Shylana loves Aikido :)

<Weavers> Katlynn snugs Shy. It's cool. :)

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Yes! I disturbed Kichevio! ;)"

Javin winces at the tones is Jax's voice. "Are you sure thats nessasary? I
mean I will be more then happy to make sure they don't get into any further
trouble."

Tirom blinks a bit as he watches Jaxelle in her role of authority. Now
*this* seems to be a surprise to him.

<Weavers> Shylana peers. Ooooh! Jaxelle! Can you think of any chores I can
set on the apprentices?? :P

Kassima only beams quite, quite sunnily at all those blinks, and adds, "But
a'course, you're a greenrider--I'm sure you know *all* about that sort of
thing, dearie, even better than I ever could." The nearby argument
distracts her somewhat, enough to throw a bemused look towards the Weavers.

Telgar Weyr> Roma says, "What's going on at Weaver that we lowly weyrlings
can't go to? I feel all left out. snif."

Timbril finishes off wine and pastry and slips back up toward the Crafthall
on quiet feet, jacket slung over one arm.

Timbril moves toward the WeaverCraft Hall.

<Weavers> Jaxelle grins.

Telgar Weyr> Timbril can't stand the spam anymore down there. Too much for
my tired ole brain.:)

Telgar Weyr> K'ran doesn't know either, Roma. :)

Telgar Weyr> Shawnah says, "Apparently, Kassima has gotten hitched. :)"

S'rist makes his way quietly around the festivities to some of the tables
near the bonfire to sample some of the treats set out for the evening.

Katlynn glances toward where the action seems to be happening this moment -
where the twins are, and the Headwoman. Drawing herself up to full height,
she struts across, hips swinging, casual. So casual. "Everything going
okay, Jaxelle?" She queries with a little uplift of her brows, lips pulling
back into a pleasant smile. Both of the apprentices are given The Eye, and
she leans down, sniffing delicately just in front of them. Straightening,
she murmurs, "I don't think they should go to their rooms." Pause, "But far
be it from me to go against your judgement, Headwoman." Another long pause
then, as she scoops up another of the wine skins near the twins feet. "I'd
rather put them on latrine duty for a day however, rather than send them off."

Telgar Weyr> Zaidra just got back. Beach party.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "It's a bonfire party thing. :) And, yeah,
spammy. And, yeah, that too. ;)"

<Weavers> Shylana is e-ville!

<Weavers> Katlynn says, "You asked for it, Syeara ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Kichevio says, "Kassi's a Lady Holder. With goat tapestries."

Kichevio just smiles a cheshire smile. "Well, yes, normally I do. But in my
current state, it's better to keep such activity down to a minimum. Upsets
the porcines." She rests a hand on her stomach delicately.

Jaxelle lifts a brow in return at the Craftsecond, her own smile slight
across her lips. "Perhaps, Craftsecond.. I'll consider your suggestion of
latrine duty, certainly. Along.. with their return to their rooms. " The
look is levered back on the twins, and one arm unfolds long enough to point
at the hall. "I will be up directly, and we'll discuss this further at that
point."

Syeara turns her had back and forth between Javin and Jaxelle "Yes ma'am.
No ma'am I mean...." Less than impressed she drops her head forward onto
the sand. "I was only doing as I was told. Have fun Syeara.. Drink some
wine Syeara.. Don't bother people Syeara... and I still get into trouble."
This of course is said into the sand." Grumbling still, she stands and head
on up the beach and back to her room.

Javin sighs softly and shakes his head.

Telgar Weyr> K'ran says, "She's a ba-a-a-a-ad girl."

<Weavers> Syeara is going to -try- and cause trouble next event. Just wait.
*grumble*

Syeara walks toward the WeaverCraft Hall.

<Weavers> Shylana oooohs... Latrine duty for a week after that. Plus greens
in the early morning....

Telgar Weyr> Kichevio oys at K'ran. You've got to be kid-ding. ;)

<Weavers> Jaxelle says, "Oh hush up and meet me in your rooms. :P"

Kassima peeks inquisitively towards the roundness in question. It's nicely
distracting from all this arguing. "Porcines? Oh, dearie, you aren't
supposed to get *that* cozy with your livestock, don't you know that?
Goodness gracious me, I can't *imagine* what you're going t'do. But then, I
don't think I'd ever want to be pregnant anyway. Terribly messy, icky
condition." While scanning the area for more distractions, she spots
S'rist--and, leaning in, whispers to Kich, "Look, dearie, isn't that a
bronzerider? Aren't you greenriders supposed t'go up to them and seduce
them when they're around or something? I'm *sure* I heard that in a Harper
ballad."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Ewe better believe it. ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Roma says, "Okay, okay, I'm sorry I asked! :)"

Telgar Weyr> Zaidra says, "No, Roma, ask who Kassi /married/."

Syeira just makes a /face/ at the Headwoman, and folds her arms together
primly. For a moment, it looks as if the girl is simply going to sit there,
but with a hefty sigh, she clambers up, muttering evil things beneath her
breath. "Fine, fine, fine. Humph..."

Syeira ambles toward the WeaverCraft Hall.

Telgar Weyr> K'ran says, "She married a goat?"

Jalar coughs a bit, overhearing a comment, but covers his mouth and turns
his face away.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima chirps, "I married my dearest darling Lord
Loveypoodums, of course!"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "...Who, when he's back to being I'sai, will
probably kill me. ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Schmitt says, "Good for him!"

Kichevio takes a good, long, considering look at S'rist. "Well. I suppose I
_could_. It'd be fun. But I'm not sure he'd be too amenable...the men
always turn pale when they hear about the porcines..."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima pthbbts.

Telgar Weyr> Roma says, "How'd he end up in that mess? Or is that something
I REALLY don't want to know?"

S'rist picks at the food table, making a small plate of munchables, totally
oblivious to all the glances headed in his direction.

Jaxelle sighs and rolls her eyes, slumping a bit as soon as the girls are
out of sight. One of the wineskins is grabbed up, and without bothering
with a glass, she squishes the thing until she's got a good few mouthfuls
down herself. Swallowing, setting the skin back down, she clears her
throat, turns about, mutters "I was never /that/ bad was I?" Looking over,
she spots S'rist, and suddenly she smirks, another roll of her blue orbs.
"Faranth help me." is the last she mutters, stalking off after the pair.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Well, see, Katlynn asked Kassi/Lady Zuhluly if
I'sai was her husband, and he didn't deny it fast enough, so...."

Jaxelle wanders toward the WeaverCraft Hall.

"Oh, you *should*, dearie," Kassi encourages at her most saccharine, making
vague shooing motions towards the bronzerider. "Mayhaps he's different? You
don't know until you *try*."

Javin finds one of the wine skins the twins had taken away and take a sip
from it and shakes his head. "Well it is a good vintage after all." he
shakles his head again and finds a seat.

Kassima adds brightly, struck by a thought, "And if'n he doesn't prove
amenable, there are all these *other* men, too, don't forget, for you to
work your mysterious greenrider wiles on. Only nay Loveypoodums. Don't
forget."

Katlynn rolls blue eyes toward the heavens, turning slightly on her heel to
watch as the apprentices trampled back up to the hall, followed by the
Headwoman. "Well..just /well/." Obviously irked about something, she scoops
up the wineskin previously discarded by the refreshment tables, and wiggles
the top of quickly. "Oh Javin, is it really good? I'm not in the mood for
an off-tasting liquid right now." Without waiting for his answer however,
she sloshes the crimson fluid into a mug, and takes a long draw.

Jalar catches a signal from a Journeyman and he nods in return. Setting
down his glass, he moves over to where the Harpers have just finished a
song and picks up his gitar. A careful check of the tuning is quickly
completed.

Javin nods to Katlynn. "Aye, its not bad at all. I can understand why they
liked it so much."

Kassima-Zuhluly sighs with disappointment as the greenrider wanders off
without seducing anybody; bereft of victims, she chooses to rustle towards
an empty seating place with her wine to eye this tuning Harper rather
speculatively.

Jalar starts a slow song on his gitar. When he beings the lyrics, his
baritone voice is full of emotion. 
	You can drain away the oceans;
	Pull the stars down from the skies;
	Blow the sands from all the deserts;
	Drain the colors from our eyes.
	But, you'll never take away
	What was only ours to give.
	Endless love will long endure.
	And, far beyond you live.

Katlynn slumps down onto a bench, drawing her knees up, and hooking her
elbows around them, hands resting against her feet. "Oh, another song,
lovely!" A bright smile works onto her lips, and she looks on, pleased, as
the Harper begins to play his gitar, and then to sing. "Why is it that that
almost everybody writes about *love*? Feh. Love." A roll of blue eyes shows
just what she thinks about *love*.

S'rist takes a seat to listen to the harper, trying not to make too much
noise as he chews on some food from the serving tables.

Jalar closes his eyes as he begins the second verse. He seems to be very
present in the song, singing as if he believed in the words of the song.
	Lock our bodies in dark chambers;
	Give us no more food to eat;
	Take away the sound of music;
	Leave us cold for lack of heat,
	But, our love will never fade.
	Absence makes the stronger tie.
	Endless love will long endure.
	You can not make it die.

Javin tips back the skin in his hands and drink a deep draw and listens to
the haper play his song, his eyes closed and sighs softly.

"Beats me," Kassi-Zuhluly mutters in a suspiciously normal voice, before
hastily adding in the florid accent of the Lady, "But, a'course, 'tis just
*wonderful* t'hear love praised and celebrated so, and in such lovely
words, too... even if'n the concept of starvation's kind of icky."

Jalar's voice rises in volume and intensity as he sings and plays a brief
bridge to the song. By the end of the bridge, he is expressing extremely
deep and profound emotion.
	Endless love will not know boundaries.
	Endless love will not know time.
	Endless love will always triumph.
	Swim the seas and mountains climb!

"Oh yes, starvation *would* be rather icky, wouldn't it?" Katlynn chuckles
over at the 'Lady', her brows uplifted in amusement. "If I was t'starve,
then my clothes wouldn't fit, and Faranth knows they're small enough
already." But she'll hush for the remainder of Jalar's song, a smile
tugging at the corners of her lips, whether she likes it or not.

Jalar drops the volume of his voice, but somehow that energy is still
present, just in a different form. His eyes open and he looks out at the
audience, he finds eye contact here and there as he sings.
	Truth and passion, they will guide us
	Through the trials and the pain.
	Earnest hope and keen devotion
	'Til the victory we gain.
	Holding tight onto our pact,
	Made in trust and bound with love.
	Endless love will long endure.
	Our love is endless love.
The final line is repeated slowly.

Our love ... is ... Endless Love.
The final notes of the gitar music echo out for a moment after he stop
singing.

S'rist puts his plate down to give a little applause to the song.

Kassima's vapid smile turns a bit less so, and a bit dark, at the bridge,
but that passes as she turns back to Katlynn. "Ooh, aye, you're very lucky,
and that's a *lovely* jacket; someday mayhaps 'twill have t'be
commissioning you t'make something for me--I'm *very* curious about what
you'd come up with, even as *fond* as I am of m'Gather dresses now, don't
get me wrong...." Her eyes flick down at this ending, but she nonetheless
raises her hands to applaud with earnest appreciation.

Katlynn brings her hands together in applause, as do several of the
apprentices still wandering around down at the beach. One young girl even
looks as if she's been swooned off her feet, so intent is she on staring at
Jalar. "My jacket? Oh.. thankyou." Kat glances back over at Kassi-Lady,
grinning quite widely. "Do feel free to come back at any time then, I'm
sure I could come up with something to suite your taste, and the tastes of
Lord whatshisface too."

Jalar smiles and gives a polite bow to the audience, "Thank you." After
that he quits the stage and the other Harpers take a happier tune.

Tirom slips out of the way after clapping to Jalar's song, grinning.

Tirom strides toward the WeaverCraft Hall.

"I'm nay certain I can convince Loveypoodums t'come back," Kassi-Zuhluly
admits, exercising her gift for understatement. "'Tis so hard t'get him
t'come out in the open sometimes; I guess he'd rather be at home with the
goat tapestries--but his opinion would just be *invaluable*. Ah, well,
we'll see. I'm sure you must have *oodles* of people t'be making stuff for
in the meanwhile?"

"Oh yes, so many commissions, I don't know if I can keep up with them all."
Katlynn laughs merrily, as she swings her legs down from the bench, and
starts smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress. "Strangely enough, I've
never had a commission for a goat tapestry - you and your Lord will have to
come by, and pick up a new one some time if he's so fond of them!" Brows
furrow together a moment in thought, and she grins. "I'll even do him one
in pink. A pink goat that is." Pause, "Why does he like goat tapestries so
much?"

Jalar smiles and excuses himself.

Jalar wanders toward the WeaverCraft Hall.

I'sai strolls down the sandy path from the WeaverCraft to the beach.

Kassima holds up her hands to hastily assure, "We have more goat tapestries
than we could *ever* need, Craftsecond-Dearie, but thankee so much for the
offer all the same; 'tis very kind... 'tisn't so much that he likes 'em as
that he tolerates 'em. My Mumsy-Wumsy who was Lady a'fore me was a very
*dear* woman, but had... odd... taste, and so she put goat tapestries
*everywhere*. Over the necessaries, over the bed, rolled up and hidden
behind chairs. *Most* of the men who wanted t'marry me were a bit put off
by the goat tapestries, but my darling, darling Loveypoodums doesn't say a
*thing*. Isn't he the sweetest thing? Oh, and there goes that nice Harper!
G'bye, nice Harper!" She waves rather enthusiastically after him, too. "And
that other young man *too*. Goodness."

Doubtless the 'Lord' had been called off by some hulking and hunchbacked
servitor; but it's only I'sai who returns, blinking into the bonfire's light.

S'rist finishes off the bit of food he'd gotten and looks about, "I should
be heading back home myself..." he says to no one in particular. He then
picks up one more dessert looking object from the serving tables and then
heads off towards the hall proper.

S'rist wanders toward the WeaverCraft Hall.

Kassima glances about the beach proper, and exhales a sigh that's rather
more normal than most of this evening's sighs. "Almost everyone's left,"
she observes, ruefully. "It really is getting late, I suppose... a shame,
too; that had t'be the most fun I've had in a Turn." And as he returns, she
shifts in her seat to greet him with a, "Welcome back, Loveypoodums,"
that's openly impish rather than saccharine for once.

Katlynn offers a too-late wave after the retreating Harpers and Weyrleader
alike, still curled up on one of those stone benches, one foot dangling
over the edge. "Oh, yes.. But /goats/." This is just *beyond* even her. She
glances up toward I'sai, barely able to smother a laugh behind one hand at
Kassima's greeting to him, "You look lost?"

"Dear sweetiewoogas," lofts the light tenor back. "...And
Craftsecond-wecond." I'sai pauses before taking up his own spot near the
wingleader. "_Faranth_. Maybe I am, maybe everyone else is: what'd I miss?"

Kassima scoots on the bench to leave him room to sit, if he so desires,
with a last--probably last--flutter of lashes that must be very tired after
all this exercise. "You say the sweetest things," says she in a momentary
return to fruitiness. Then, "You missed me saying scandalous things about
our marriage and what nay, so I hope whatever revenge you have planned is a
good one; beyond that? Some sort of tiff, and a rather pretty song, and
Kich stopping by." She drops a wink to Katlynn. "I thought the goats were a
nice touch."

Katlynn bats her lashes at I'sai, just to compete with Kassima for a
moment, and chuckles. "You missed everything Kassima just said. Including
her raving about those goat tapestries. I wonder if any of it's true?"
Smiling ever-so innocently, she winks back at Kassima, nodding. "The goats
just made the entire story seem *that* much more real, even with a name
like Mucketymuckamuck."

"What sort of things? Goats aside," and I'sai slouches just shy of asking
about the tiff, instead seeking a shoulder of Kassi's to lean a cheek on -
and watch Katlynn from there, as if it -could- be safe. "That's my problem.
I keep missing the middle 'mucka.' Goats, though, they're less -common-
than ovines, at least."

"Only the part about pickles, feathers, and porcines," Kassi just cannot
resist quipping, even as she provides the shoulder willingly and with a
quick, sympathetic smile to him. "You and nigh everyone else. 'Twas
entirely too much of a lark, the whole thing... aye, the goats came up
a'fore this place evidently turned into a Hold of iniquity. Kich," she
adds, "thought you--or rather, the Lord--had some sort of prurient interest
in those goats."

"What she said." Katlynn nods toward Kassi--which ends up being toward
where I'sai has his head--and starts getting up from the bench. "And I, for
now, have to get back up to the Hall and see to those apprentices. Your
welcome to hang about as long as you like, of course." She smiles at the
pair of them, and whirls around to collect her sandals, slinging them over
a shoulder. "Oh, and if you *ever* need a tapestry of a goat, for
/whatever/ strange reason you might have," An here, a quirk of her brow,
"Stop by and commission one from me. I'll even do it in pink." With a grin,
she wanders up toward the hall.

Katlynn heads toward the WeaverCraft Hall.

"Let her think that, it'll keep her distracted. And maybe 'the Lord' does,"
but I'sai shrugs -that- off, the better to murmur, "I wonder how much of
that was hunting apprentices and how much was escaping goats."

Kassima assures in an amused undertone, "She doesn't know the Lord is you,
I don't believe, since I referred to him only as Loveypoodums... and, well,
why associate you with Loveypoodums?" That shoulder quivers just slightly
with laughter then. "I've nary a clue. But it could be both, with that tiff
I mentioned earlier... is all well with you?"

"Nobody -else- would have confessed," I'sai murmurs. "Or guessed. Oh no."
And since she mentioned it again... "What tiff? Tell me it wasn't F'lone,
after dancing with the first non-Telgari female he's probably seen for Turns."


43   Katlynn           Wed Aug 29 23:54 2001 Bonfire Night Thanks


	I just want to say a *big* thank-you to everybody that turned up to the
bonfire night held on Wednesday. It was great fun, and I'm pretty sure most
everybody who came along enjoyed it. Special thanks to Conn for bringing
over some of the Harpers and for his song, and also to Kassima for
providing endless laughs. 

	Katlynn, Weaver Craftsecond.
......................................WVR....................................


<Weavers> Kassima awws, you're welcome, Kat. :) And thanks!

<Weavers> I'sai had fun, Kat. What was Conn's song about?

<Weavers> Katlynn says, "Oh I think that was before you two arrived. I
think it was just a love song thing :)"

<Weavers> Katlynn says, "I wish I'd thought of getting Jaxelle to do
/Conn's/ song. The one about him ;>"

<Weavers> I'sai nods. ;)

Kassima chuckles again and tips her own head, perhaps enough to rest
lightly against his. "I have t'be thanking you for playing along; you did a
truly stellar job. And aren't even killing me now that there are nay
witnesses, for another miracle. F'lone, nay--though," she thinks to mention
with a momentary frown of concern, "he did say something about Hroth nay
feeling well a'fore he was escorted home. Hopefully naught serious. Nay,
'twas something t'do with those double Apprentices--the ones offering the
wine?--getting into trouble and causing a scene."

<Weavers> Kassima nodnods. I think we just caught the very tail end of it.
:) It sounded pretty. And his reaction to that would've been priceless. ;)

<Weavers> Katlynn must plan it for another time *grin*.

It suits; a smile finds him, brief, and then I'sai supposes, "No surprise;
they looked young for it, enough to be tasting what they served. Oh, not
that our Hold didn't have us the like; but it was always well-watered, and
little more than a taste... Taxith says he'll be fine, will Hroth."

"I suppose they might've been--how old were you?" Kassi wants to know,
prompted by sudden curiousity to ask. "When you first drank seriously, I
mean. Fourteen, 'twas, when I first got drunk on unwatered wine, and they
didn't seem *that* young... but they've a Hall t'represent." Her slight nod
is probably perceptable, though not enough to much muss braided hair. "Good
t'be knowing. I sometimes worry about those two."

Jaelith heads down the sandy path from the WeaverCraft to the beach.

I'sai's, "You're not the only one," is a shadow in the dark; but he doesn't
linger on that weyrling pair: not as if there aren't others to fret over.
"Let's see. Taralyth has ... nearly ten Turns; I was an apprentice for
about a season over a Turn, I'll have had a full six-and-twenty Turns in a
couple sevendays - so about the same age, then, when I was at the Hall. Not
that I drank so much so often, then. Easier to get caught."

Jaelith lets out a brassy bugle, but a muted one.

A'deth takes hold of Jaelith's riding straps and swings himself up and over
her shoulder, slithering down her side those last few meters to the ground.

Kassima might well have asked after that shadow, but the quick passage
discourages it; so, "Ten," she muses. "Still a baby, that seems--and,
shards, I need t'find you a *gift*--but. That's one thing t'be said for
wandering aimlessly: if'n you get caught drunk, people just think you're
mindless, they don't yell at you. Tell me, would you, about...." And here's
where she trails off to, not lift her head, but lift her hand to wave to
the returned dragonpair.

Out in the water, Taralyth lifts his head to warble a somewhat wet reply;
I'sai lifts his from shoulder's rest - but stays settled next to his
companion once he's discerned who it is, demeanor as relaxed as his smile.
"Evening," he calls. "The weavers're off chastizing apprentices, or being
chastized as the case may be, and so we're sharing drinking stories." To
Kassi, more softly, "Don't worry about it? - for all that I appreciated the
last one! And I'd yell at a weyrling, all right. Or would've been yelled
at. Either."

You sense I'sai's not above quirking up a brow - tell her what?

A'deth steps towards I'sai and Kassima. "'Evening." And he pauses. "Would I
be welcome to join? Drinking's a hobby of mine."

A low rumble from Lysseth echoes likewise across the depths, her dark hide
lost somewhere betwixt the night and the sea; and Kassi, she raises her
head likewise with *its* rest now moved on. "Just don't ask me about the
Lava Lounge, when it comes t'drinking," she suggests, "unless you want
rather disturbing stories... duties t'Igen and her queens, by the by." Back
to that lower note: "But I owe you for Kisai's--" Now that could be read a
couple of ways. "We'll just see... and oh, I did yell at a Weyrling, in a
fashion. My first real meeting with K'ran was me disapproving of having
caught him with a mug of ale in his hand. Mind you, some of us drank a'fore
graduation, though nay me if'n you can credit it--oh, be welcome,
greenrider. The beach is free, though the refreshments seem mostly gone."

I'sai senses Kassima drops her voice lower yet to answer: "'Twas curious
about your history--your family, mostly, but the Apprenticeship too, while
we're on the subject. But it can wait."

-She- says free, but I'sai's quick to suggest, "Trade us with how old -you-
were when you first drank too much? I don't know whether you've met; Kassi,
this is A'deth, I'd met him Igen-way. Friend of Kich's, too. - And yes, you
owe me; and I'd believe more that you'd mix drink than overindulge."

You sense I'sai lets out a slow breath - right, K'ran - and mentions, "To a
degree, I don't mind. You'll know more readily than he, I think."

A'deth chuckles softly, returns to Jaelith's side, and removes a bottle of
brandy from a pack attached to her harness. Prize found, he heads for the
other two. "Igen's duties to Telgar's Queens. And well met."

Kassima's eyes do light, oh, yes, at the sight of a bottle, like a good
Bendenite's should. "I believe we've met in passing," she suggests, "but
being riders, we could likely say that of half of Pern; so well met indeed,
formally. Do tell, do tell! We're debating when's too young, I'm thinking,
and you don't believe *I'd* overindulge? Remember the twins?"

"Not that there are any of -those- here," I'sai assures lightly enough,
even as he watches; "Though Cariath's taken to the sands. ...We've a lot of
clutches just now, for being this far into the Pass." - "Well, make that,
'-would- have' overindulged. Back then. As for the twins, I'd best let you
tell that story yourself, Kassi."

I'sai senses Kassima flicks an apologetic look; not her intent, it would
seem, to rouse an uncomfortable topic--but it's replaced by puzzlement:
"Know what more readily? Of your background?"

You sense I'sai can't help but smile; "Know when that degree's up."

A'deth finds himself a clean, empty glass, and moves to sit. He cracks the
seal on the bottle, and first offers it to Kassima. "When *I* overindulged?
I think- I think sixteen. After I'd joined the traders, and it was late,
and they thought I was too young to be so serious. Woke up with a sore
head, a sore somewhere else, and a decided appreciation for these things."

I'sai senses Kassima ohs, a sheepish sound, and murmurs, "Truly, I'm dim
tonight... I do thank you. And i'truth, I don't see the harm in a sip or
two of wine if'n 'tis allowed. As best I knew, 'twasn't allowed at all...
certes nay two mugs of it. But the rules have changed."

"Rather disturbing," Kassi seconds, looking, for a bare moment, pensive.
"*We've* nay had the deaths t'be accounting for that, but if'n something
nasty's coming... ah. Nay, I did neither as a *Weyrling*--I just got drunk
enough on graduation night t'be passing out on the floor after theorizing
how fish are tunnelsnakes whose legs fell off due t'eating tubers or some
such nonsense. Thankee," she adds as she quite gladly accepts the bottle;
there's an emptied wine glass on hand, which she half-fills before offering
the bottle to I'sai. "Sixteen. Older than us, then. Should I be asking
about that somewhere else, or is that one of those things you're better off
nay knowing?"

Since Kassi asks, I'sai doesn't, only receives the bottle with a murmured,
"Fourteen, fifteen, something like that for me," and holds it as if he's
not ure what to do with it, where to pour it with appropriate respect. "And
then nothing for a few more Turns after -that-. ...I wonder if I could
convince the next person I see drunk of that tunnelsnake idea, and turn
them off fish entirely. Of course. Some -do- like 'snake meat."

A'deth chuckles softly. "I lived in a very small cothold, and my father
liked things a certain way, and we were to be that way. And, so, when I was
old enough, I caught up on everything I wished- things a holder wouldn't've
wanted for his heir, who should favour the young women more, and keep his
wits about him."

Kassima offers him her glass to end the quandary, while rising--ostensibly
to fetch another, should he take it. "I don't think I drank between the
first time I drank m'self drunk and graduation, though... mayhaps after we
came back to Ruatha with Mart; I truly can't recall. And 'snake meat isn't
half bad if'n you're in the right mindset." Proddy, in her case. "Mum was a
little bit like that with me--brought me up t'be a proper young woman, and
all that; sadly for her, I took more after Da, who was glad t'teach me the
knifing and such. But I couldn't have gotten drunk at home."

I'sai does accept, with murmured thanks, and wait till she's returned to
pour again. "_Speaking_ of knifing - and, aye, it's my fosterer who didn't
mind a little watered ale, watered wine. And I should've been a proper
harper, or a woodcrafter at the very last, but - " his shrug is as wry as
it is light. "How did you not keep your wits about you, A'deth? Taking up
with traders, aside."

You sense I'sai agrees; "The occasional rule I even find myself -liking-,
now and again."

A'deth's chuckle is very soft. "Harpers aren't proper. Watchride there long
enough, you'll see that they do everything they shouldn't, and everyone
looks the other way, mostly. As it should." He pauses. "Oh- wits and duty
aren't the same thing. There's your duty, and for me it was scribing, then
- and when duty's done, it's time to play. But if you play too much, then
there's no room left for duty- and then what's the point of it all? Too
much pleasure'd spoil it. Nothing to sweeten it, else."

Kassima likewise murmurs gratitude once her new glass is filled, though she
makes a face--and swiftly afterwards grins--at the knifing mention. "I *do*
owe you a lesson in that; perhaps we can exchange a lesson for a lesson?
One knife-lesson for one dance-lesson, so the next time someone mistakes
you for m'husband," this teasing, "I can at least refrain from mauling your
feet. I should've been a Baker, or a Harper, or at least a Guard; yet
Chaeth found me a'fore I'd chosen a path, and here I am." Her gaze turns
towards A'deth, and she listens, interested. "More proper than some... but
it does depend on the individual, I'd be thinking; methinks Is meant, how
did you catch up on *nay* keeping your wits? Since 'twere catching up on
the things your father wouldn't have wanted?"

A'deth chuckles softly. "Oh, everything. Drink, women and men - men most
particularly, since I'd always been drawn so, but with no opportunity to
really know if it was proclivity, or merely rebellion - even herbs one
shouldn't indulge in overmuch, and I didn't like _needing_ them anyway.
Long dives from high cliffs into the water, taking the narrow mountain
passes a-runnerback. Silly things." He pauses, and adds, "Chaeth's your
path, I'd wager, and none better."

"Ah, but you mauled Conn's first," I'sai points out. "So it has some value
- just so long as it's not dancing with knives," and once that glass is
topped off, he leans forward to return the bottle to A'deth. "'Rebellion.'
And *between*'s better than any of those dives, even, for the rush of it."

A'deth reclaims the bottle, and fills his own glass- for he did wait to do
so until they'd filled theirs. "I've thought about leaping off the Rim,
once or twice, and seeing how long it'd take Jaelith to catch me." He
pauses. "And you've gotten me to talking about myself, and shouldn't we
talk about yourselves, lest I be rude?"

I'sai senses Kassima wonders, belated, "Rule about drinking, or rule in
general?"

Kassima nods thoughtfully to this; mentions, "I didn't feel particularly
drawn towards men in m'first days of freedom--and never t'women--but 'twas
young, and sheltered anyway, and I sometimes wonder if'n life wouldn't have
been different if'n I'd been Searched after that had a chance t'change. The
long dives and runner-rides I can more readily understand." A quick grin
follows, fleeting. "Chaeth was the messenger, methinks. Lysseth the path.
But why is it rude for you t'talk about yourself, and nay for us t'talk
about ourselves? One person's story's as good as another on a night like
this... and for rushes, give me either the vine or Lysseth in Threadfall
any evening."

Kassima appends then, not so much afterthought as needing to pause for
breath *sometime*, "I've a cousin who can dance with knives. She always
wanted t'teach me... is Conn someone you like seeing mauled in particular,
then?"

A'deth smiles brightly. "See what happens when you drink before company?
Get the names scrambled, and look foolish."

A'deth inquires, "Conn- Harper lad, journeyman, I think, loves the ladies?"

"Only because it's a change of pace, and the man can defend himself, I dare
say," says I'sai indeed; and though such free fall off the Rim merits its
own consideration - still, still, he's frank about, "I'd -rather- talk
about you two, 'less you're just being polite about saying you'd be rude
and - shells, that muddles itself up; we need a toast," and he lifts his
glass that the others may speak.

A'deth chuckles low. "Anything for you, I'sai." And he lifts his glass.

You sense I'sai thinks to half-tease, "I'd hate to extrapolate to -general-."

Kassima crinkles her nose at A'deth. "If'n that's the worst that happens
when you drink a'fore company, methinks I envy you. --Aye, that's him.
Indulgent sort; he played along with m'little game quite well... unless
he's genuinely forgotten who I really am. Always possible; it's been a few
Turns. He called me a wisp of a thing," which, by her tone, obscurely
pleases her. "I suppose he doesn't get mauled often, with lines like that.
Welladay. As the greenrider says--" And she lifts her glass, to toast that,
and him, and more particularly: "To absent friends, lost loves, old powers,
and the season of mists; and may each and every one of us always give the
Red Star its due."

[Editor's Note:  Credit goes to Neil Gaiman for that toast; it's based on one
made in his graphic novel 'Season of Mists.' :) ]

I'sai senses Kassima teases back, while glass is aloft, "Far be it from you
t'be general--or generic!--about aught."

A'deth lifts his glass. "_Always_," he states firmly. "And to new friends."

"To both," I'sai'll agree; "...And let that Star always be grudged its blood."

"I'll drink t'that," Kassi assents, and does.

You sense I'sai inclines that fair head: kind of her - and,

I'sai drinks likewise; and shallowly, that reminder may yet burn on his
tongue.

A'deth, of course, drains his glass. It's very strong brandy, though of an
ecceptably fine and mellow vintage, that he's offered. Only the best for
himself and his guests, after all.

I'sai senses Kassima smiles to him behind the rim of the glass; kindness
given, if given, where it's due.

Kassima's draught is less shallow, as is worthy of her experience as a
tippler; yet not so deep, so quick, as to miss savoring the vintage.
"Well," she quips after a soft sigh of contentment with the liquor's fire,
"aught after that runs the risk of being anticlimactic. Shall we put fish
down our shirt-backs and dance about t'change the mood, d'you think?"

A'deth refills, and sets the bottle between the other two. "...But I'm
wearing my best sisal."

I'sai's less acquainted; less, perhaps, appreciative of the spirit itself
compared to the spirit in which it was given. Still, he smiles over his
glass; "...You first."

I'sai adds, after a moment, "Hadn't you... that night Tasieth went up; I
remembered that the dragons were silver."

Mention of that particular flight sets Kassi's expression to blank for a
moment; it's another before she can flicker an answering, slightly droll
smile. "Then 'twould be me only," she points out. "And what's the fun of
that?"

A'deth quirks a brow to I'sai. "Hadn't I what? ...Silver?"

It's a moment more before perplexity clears - darkens? - in its turn,
shivers Is' glance back to his drink: "You do know me, Kassi. - There's
only one fish I'd dance with, 'Reaches or no, and I haven't yet. As for the
dragons: your... tunic, A'deth? Or does it not have sleeves? With the coat,
I couldn't quite tell."

A'deth looks down at himself. "The vest, and silver." He looks back up, his
gaze even more green than before. "You remembered. Even with, well."

"As you, me," Kassi allows. "--Though which knows the other better may be a
question for debate some other evening. Do you say you'd *dance* with it?
That I'd like t'see. I truly would. Since it doesn't have *feet*." She
falls silent at the last, and peers into her own glass as though the
remnants contained the secrets of the world.

"Striking," I'sai says to his own brandy: simply that. "...And well, it was
more dancing while -wearing- it. Since, assuming I had it on already, I'd
be standing around wondering what to do with myself and how soon I could
grab a jacket. No, make that a coat. Er. All right, since I've contributed
that: what's the most embarrassing article clothing -you- two have
received? Kassi, J'lyn's pants excepted."

A'deth considers I'sai with a faint, sideslash smile, and then looks to
Kassima. "I've never been _given_ questionable articles of clothing. Though
I did evade receiving backsideless leather pants, once."

I'sai can't help but ask, "...J'lyn's?"

A'deth shudders. "Oh, no. I don't think I've met him, actually."

I'sai breathes, "...Then there's more than one."

"...And so while 'twere wondering, 'twould pass the time by *dancing* in
it?" Kassi sounds a bit incredulous. Can you blame her? "--Oh, dear. I
don't think you really want t'be hearing mine; I've gotten worse than those
pants. And we all have those pants, A'deth, for what 'tis worth, though
mine are buried deep-deep-deep... oh, *nay*."

"Of -course- I do; I don't have to see them, do I? - Tell us the story,
A'deth, do." And I'sai straightens, and sips again for strength.

A'deth shudders again. "Not much of a story to tell. Some of the menfolk -
the bronzeriders, mostly - were going to dance for the womenfolk. ...I
don't tabledance."

Kassima mutters, "'Twould probably disturb Myk if'n you did," and gladly
abandons that line of thought--for the moment reprieved--to listen to the
Tale of Two Buttless Pants Vendors. "Neither do I," she consoles. "Brief
lesson in dubious dancing aside. I'd wish our bronzeriders would take up
similar notions, except I'm too much of a prude t'be enjoying it if'n
Ofira's bachelorette party's aught t'judge by."

A'deth purrs, "I'd enjoy it. However, I think they look ri-di-culous. And
so would I. Besides, I've little backside anyway."

I'sai colors, "Not -that- sort of dancing. For me. Hard enough for Myk to
keep a straight face during the weavers' shows," assuming he tries at all;
"But: about what you got, Kassi, no escaping there."

A'deth adds innocently, "It was _supposed_ to be bronzeriders dancing,
anyway."

"Then how did it..." I'sai pauses.

A'deth purrs, "Beware of making yourself too indispensible."

"I meant if'n you saw the item in question," Kassi consoles, or tries;
*she's* not asking about who ended up dirty dancing, no no no. "Since
'tis--" But oh, wait, here's another chance to let that line of thought be
interrupted! She takes it gladly. Very gladly.

I'sai's brow knits, "Wouldn't have to see it -on-."

"Well," Kassi allows, "true, but why would you be rummaging through
m'drawers, either?"

A'deth rests his right elbow on his right knee, and rests his chin on the
fingers of his right hand- in the left, very loosely, dangles his glass. He
listens for the moment, smiling mildly.

I'sai rolls pale eyes to the stars, "C'mon, just -describe- it. Can't be
that bad, else you'd've buried it like J'lyn's trous, hm?" To A'deth, since
she's stalling, "J'lyn being the father of Kassi's twins: overcome with
quite a lot of alcohol. Which is why to be wary of the Lounge. And he's
fathered a pair more on Alessandra, her wingrider."

A'deth clears his throat. "...And made me a relieved man by being the one,
he did."

I'sai's brows creep up, "...I thought that was Kichevio?"

A'deth waves the glass almost irritably. "Yes, well. After the famine, the
feast, and then the famine again."

Kassima complains, "I'd be too afraid of someone *finding* them--oh, very
well. Two things about as bad; both A'ser's fault. Aurian, on his
inspiration, gave me a pair of underthings with little silver daggers
stitched on 'em," in a voice that just *dares* them--but particularly
I'sai--to find this amusing. "And A'ser gave me some strange pieces of
string that were supposed t'be underthings. There. Happy now?" Added for
the sake of her own reputation, "A *lot* of alcohol. A very great deal.
Since, y'know, I don't look like a man t'people who are *sober*, t'say
naught of m'own judgment... oh-ho. You know Alessi, d'you?"

A'deth purrs, "When you wanted to dance with knives, I'm not sure, I think,
that you might've meant it in that manner?"

"As warning," I'sai nods so wisely for the daggers - as wisely as one can
manage, and have it be wonderingly as well; "And how does that string work?
- And are there any others I'd know? Talisha, say. ...Though she hasn't
made up so much of The Three these days, seems like. Or if not Talisha,
Tarlo." Dancing with knives? He quiets.

"...Warning." Kassi just *looks* at Is. "Warning whom of what, O snookums?
Don't ask *me*; d'you think I ever wore something that looked more fit t'be
flossing teeth with? Nay that I did that *either*." Just for
clarification's sake. At the question, she looks wary. "You mean, did I
mean dancing while wearing those underpants? I can safely say I *didn't*,
nay nay nay nay nay."

A'deth tsks. "I will assure you, my dear, that even were I _extremely_
drunk, you'd not look like a man. If only because certain things, ah, come
automatically, and there'd be a certain, well, ah, oh, this is hardly
polite, is it." He shakes his head, and pours himself more brandy.

I'sai silently holds out his own, half-full glass; he does add for Kassi's
sake, "But your breath's not bad at all. If I remember right. No raw fish
there. Mart, though, -he- might want you to try out this 'floss' thing."

A'deth pours.

Kassima says firmly, after a moment, "Methinks I'm glad that I'm still,
after all these Turns, nay able t'figure out what you mean without thinking
about it, which I will now proceed nay t'be doing." Right. Don't think of
pink elephants. Cradelling her own cup, she returns dryly, "You've
m'gratitude for that sentiment, you may be sure. Are you saying that Mart
made imprecations about m'dental health or hygiene?"

I'sai buys time by murmuring thanks, even as he draws the glass back - "Oh,
I wouldn't say -that-. I'm sure he wouldn't like it." To the now-Igenite,
"M'rgan's an old, ah, friend of hers; and of Lysseth's, as it were, and
he's - " the pause's briefer now than it had been. "Was my wingleader."

A'deth looks from the one to the other. "Ah _hah_."

"You'd better be telling," Kassi doesn't quite threaten--warn, perhaps? "Or
you'll find yourself with a thong in the shape of a pink goat, courtesy of
Katlynn--what *did* he say? And that pause a'fore 'friend' isn't necessary;
we are just friends, though oldest, and Lysseth's fonder of Ularrith...
though only marginally, which is a bit surprising given the givens." A
curious brow is arced at A'deth as she repeats, "Ah-hah?"

A'deth shrugs quite helplessly. "It seemed appropriate."

I'sai takes the -ordinarily- wiser course of, with an open-handed gesture,
deferring to a greenrider. Of course, that leaves the other one.

A'deth looks sidelong at I'sai, his gaze glinting silver now. Gee, thanks,
is plainly writ on his face.

Kassima gives I'sai a confused look; does he understand this? "I'm
confused," she further announces in case this was missed.

A'deth says "So was I. Teach me to try to sound clever."

"Is would probably be better at that than I," replies Kassi.

I'sai inclines his head - though not enough that he can't watch: 'quite
welcome.' "That's one free 'ah-hah,'" he notes. "And nah. You just say that
to raise expectations. How 'bout... another round of questions? Someone
else ask."

Kassima points out, ever-helpful, "*I* still want t'know what Mart said."

A'deth relaxes, and states mildly, "That's a question, it is."

"I could tell you what he didn't say," Is offers. "...It shouldn't be a
question; it's a statement. Unless you mean mine: in which case that was
more of a ...suggestion."

Kassima is reasonable: "Then 'twill rephrase. What did Mart say on that
occasion when he spoke t'you of pillows and noises and Faranth alone knows
what? You *could* tell me what he didn't say," she agrees. "But I'm more
interested in what he did."

A'deth says "..._Noises_?"

"Lies," Kassi quickly notes. "All lies."

A'deth hmphs, visibly disappointed.

I'sai points out with quite the uncharacteristic regard for fairness, "But
A'deth couldn't answer that one, and so it's not the right sort of question."

Kassima flicks her fingers in dismissal. "He can get one free question of
me as a penalty?" she tries. "For nay getting t'answer the pillow question,
as if'n that's some sort of horrid fate anyway."

A'deth states comfortably, "I'm always one to indulge a lady. Go ahead,
I'sai." So helpful, he.

I'sai lightnings him a _look_ - and then says, slowly, "Pillows and noises;
and... things that go bump in the night. As it were. Y'know I was all but a
weyrling; I wouldn't have -tried- to remember," and isn't that trying to be
a sublime display of virtuousness?

A'deth gives I'sai a slow smile, quiet and crooked, and lifts his glass to
him.

"As traumatized as you looked," Kassi points out so, so sweetly, "I'd be
very surprised if'n you could forget. Try though you might've. Which is why
I want t'know just *how* painfully I should kill the brownrider."

I'sai doesn't think; just drinks, whatever the toast - and, who knows,
maybe it'll yet be his last. "Um," he says. "If you kill him: Kena'd be
mad. Wouldn't she?"

Kassima shrugs, sips. "I'd think she'd thank me. C'mon. Spill it."

I'sai waves vaguely - though not with the hand that holds his drink - "Oh,
noises." If he's looking anywhere at all in particular, it's out over the
water, but even that's unfocused. "The way you... your throat; when you -
arching your - and, and stealing the furs, too." Stop him any time.

A'deth drains his glass, and seems somehow, vaguely, approving.

Kassima can't, though. She's too caught up in outraged splutterings.
"But--but--I *didn't*--I don't do--" More splutterings before she can
recover enough to wind up, "Nay with him, anyway! And I *don't* steal the
furs!"

I'sai says piously, "Told you, you should't've asked - " for all that the
glint in his eyes, at all that sputtering, is pure mischief. "Now, what was
your question, A'deth?"

A'deth laughs softly. "I don't have one. It's much more interesting to hear
what you two come up with on your own."

I'sai protests, "I answered for -nothing-?"

A'deth flashes him a brilliant smile. "...You were very entertaining.
That's _something_."

Kassima just folds her arms and turns slightly, huffily, on the bench. "He
lies," she informs A'deth primly. "Or repeats lies, whichever. That's the
only reason 'tis entertaining, I'm sure."

I'sai let his, "...No doubt," serve for both; that, and that returning smile.

A'deth says "It will -absolutely- not dim my impression of you, my dear-"
and turns that same smile on her. "You're marvellous, and I'll put such
thoughts right out of my mind. If you wish me to."

Kassima turns a nice, deep red to go with the dress, or nearly; protests,
"I'd hardly say marvellous in any case--" And, well, she'll just turn back
around enough to stick her tongue out at I'sai. When all else fails,
display your maturity level... or lack thereof. "You'll at least admit
'twere lying about the *furs*. I mean, honestly."

A'deth says "...I always make certain there's extras, myself."

Kassima does have to point out, "I haven't any say over how many are in the
guest weyr--but I don't steal them *anyway*, so 'tis a moot point."

I'sai tugs at his ear; and says sorrowfully, "I couldn't rightly - " He
stops. A breath later, "Tell her more things like that, A'deth? Hard to
tell with just moonlight, but seems as if she's blushing half as much as
her gown."

A'deth wells mildly, "One can't just spit these things out on cue. Even if
such a lovely, lissome one as she - and who has such eyes, greener than my
green, I think - deserves them, they might sound insincere. Not that they
are, mind, but she might think so." And he seems, quite properly, mournful.

A'deth adds, "And I might, then, be deprived the pleasure of such
excellently entertaining company."

"I'*sai*!" Kassi protests, turning even redder. "I do nay and you *know*
it--A'deth, do me a favor and use your question option on Is instead? Ask
him something embarrassing. Or better yet, ask me something embarrassing
about *him*; I can tell you all about how he thought that fish-thong was a
finger puppet and made it dance, even--" She now has to squint a look at
the other greenrider. "Women like you, don't they," she surmises, and it's
not really a question.

A'deth shakes his head slightly. "No- they like a man who'll offer them a
ring in several handfuls of sevendays."

I'sai's crossed his arms somewhere in there, glass set slightly aside;
though his head's cocked. Listening.

Kassima makes a soft, quiet snort, but does admit, "That, too. I'm nay one
t'be blaming them." Which would figure, for Telgar's very own Captain
Celibacy, defender of monogamous relationships everywhere. "--I vote," she
decides after a moment, "that we change the subject again. One of you ask
the question this time."

A'deth murmurs, "It's men I incline to most, anyway. And most of them
incline to the women, and offer them rings, and so." He drains his glass,
refills, falls silent.

I'sai mentions out of nowhere, "Rings, they're not so... practical. Not
when you're riding. Which doesn't mean I don't usually wear the one with
Taralyth's shard, when it's not Fall."

Kassima inclines her head to the inclination. "Insert 'other' between 'to'
and 'women,' and I could echo the sentiment; such shall always go life, and
that's depressing, which is why the subject should swap. To something that
isn't." Ah, now, rings will do; she holds up her hands to wiggle her
fingers, five of which are adorned with sparkly things. "I like rings."

"The one that they -say- is his, anyway." - "What's your favorite bit of
jewelry, and why?" Is offers up.

A'deth looks down at his bare hands, and then reaches into the collar of
his shirt, pulling out a silver ring on a chain- a shard of Jaelith's egg,
in all the warm colors of sunshine, is inset there. Of course, he'd hide
that one tender thing where none might see, but he shows it now- perhaps
it's the brandy, perhaps the company.

I'sai leans; looks; ...studies.

Kassima nods at the revealing of that ring, not seeming at all surprised
but instead smiling; and, for her part, she wriggles the right ring finger.
"You already asked me," she adds. "So I've nay surprising answer for you...
'tis a lovely shard, A'deth."

A'deth nods, and drops it back into the collar of his shirt. "...Jaelith
thanks you."

I'sai admits, even as he straightens, "I don't have one, quite. Even
Tear's." Perhaps it's that lingering question as to whether it's -really-
his. "Though I'd have to pick that, if I picked any. They all... different
'associations,' I suppose you could say."

A'deth states softly, "I haven't picked up much jewelry. Scrolls and hides,
a tapestry or three, and fine clothes. I've a mind to buy rings, though- I
do like the flash of metal."

Kassima considers her hands, considers the gems glittering and metal
gleaming on them. "I've more pieces of jewelry than a feline could spit
at," she admits after that pause. "Some just bought because 'twas pretty,
some given by friends, some won. And they all have varying values t'me, the
gifts usually the highest... but this ring, 'tis symbolic both of a memory
and of things: nay only of our pairing, Lyss's and mine, but our survival
of Weyrlinghood; our right t'ride as Wingmates in full; our passage through
the first trials by fire. And that's more valuable even than the pendant
that's made with her shell could be. But perhaps I'm sentimental and silly
there."

A'deth states softly, "I think that we've a right to that sort of
sentimentality, and feel no shame for it."

I'sai'd darted a wondering look at -hides-; but now, "...Sentimental
perhaps, but not _silly_..." and he trails off, only an echo.

Kassima adds more quietly, "And also a symbol, I suppose, of redemption and
mistakes forgiven... well, I thankee both." Seeing that look, she supposes,
amused, "We all have hobbies--surely you've one odder than collecting or at
least buying hides?"

A'deth chuckles. "Drinking, no, that's fairly common. I like to transcribe
old hides. Really old, faded ones. Once with relevance- dragonhealing, wing
formations, all that."

I'sai's nod to Kassima is faintly apologetic; "'Keeping track of people,'
maybe," he says. "'Bout all I have time for. ...Formations, you say? And
what happens once they're transcribed?"

"With so many children, I can imagine," and Kassi's tone is sympathetic,
even as she gives a faint headshake: no apology needed. "That makes as much
sense as most of the hobbies I have; more than most, come t'think on it,
and more useful."

A'deth shrugs. "I return the hides to whence they came, if they're
borrowed, and neaten the stacks of those wood-pulp sheets, and bind them
together with good string and glue and hide-covered thin-wood plates. And
wait until they're needed. They were useful for a rope-drill, the formations."

"But does it last?" I'sai wonders, muted. "Hides, a good song, they'll
still be here when we're gone - especially so treated."

A'deth shrugs. "Someone else'll find the crumbling, musty remains of what
I've done, someday, and do the same- or they won't. But I'll be long-dead
by then, and I'll have no children," but his smile comes again, crooked and
cheerful, "And I won't have to see it."

Kassima arcs a brow at him. "Does care for people, especially for your
family, last? I should rather think," is her answer, as soft, before she
switches back to the conversational. "There are ways and ways of living
beyond your time, achieving immortality as 'twere. Reproduction's one.
Creating something that will last is another. Affecting the lives of those
around you, so that you help shape who they may become, which will in turn
shape who knows how many others; there's a third. Me," turning facetious,
"I'm aiming t'have a constellation named after me. Naught big you
understand. Just a small group of stars in a corner somewhere."

A'deth chuckles low. "Two green stars, I hope. Bright, fiercely-sparkling
ones."

"Even 'Saira has only six, six and a half Turns," I'sai says; the bonfire's
embers lend their glimmer to sharp, pensive features. "If something
happened? She'd not recall; though I like to think Ryialla would say
something...not unpleasant. And I'd not have thought of that, the
constellation; I wonder how many marks it would take, or friendships with
starsmiths... but why none, A'deth?" His gaze, his voice searches; "No
children for you?"

A'deth's tone is deliberately light. "I'm not, apparently, a fertile sort.
That seems to be a talent of my brothers', and so my parents want for no
grandchildren."

Kassima smiles at that, but says, "I wouldn't mind plain white stars. Just
so long as they're bright--with naught of darkness in them." Her eyes slide
sidelong then, seeking I'sai's. "Don't you think? Khari was five when
Jh'rin died. She remembers. Nay well, nay clearly, but she remembers that
her father loved her very much, and she him. Anyway, I'm cousin to the
Craftsecond, so you'd *think*... but nepotism just doesn't get one anywhere
anymore." Her nose crinkles then. "Y'never know, A'deth. Some people don't
end up with children 'til late in life, when they'd assumed 'twould never be."

A'deth smiles vaguely. "We'll see. I don't miss them - terrible of me, I
know - but I'd be a fickle father, and a terrible influence. Terrilia's
been having me put Taliene to sleep - a talent I seem to have with women, I
think - and that's quite enough."

I'sai scrutinizes him still, silent; only at length, "...I trust you'll
pardon me; I hadn't thought much about children; not before Taralyth." But
at least he can be certain in, "Bright indeed, Kassi. And I don't remember
so much, why should she? but if Khari does, or thinks she does from people
telling her so... I'd best be more careful, then."

The smile Kassi offers Is in exchange for the first is as bright as the
debated stars, before, "D'you have cause to, though? You've had your
parents, I trust, so those childhood memories aren't so important that
you'd have treasured each one. I don't think 'tis a worry that Ysaira will
remember many random things you've said yet, mind you." Turning to A'deth,
she grants, "Children aren't for everyone; they can be blessings, but
Faranth knows they do make noise. And mess. And more noise. And more mess."

A'deth shudders delicately- an answer eloquent enough for him, at least.

I'sai senses Kassima, after moments of thought, further asides on the
earlier issue in a soft undertone, "Methinks you underestimate, mayhaps,
how much others appreciate the care you do take. Even if'n you died
tomorrow, Faranth forfend--and just speaking for me, nay even the others--I
should imagine I'd *want* Kiss t'know that you cared and know about your
life. Whereas if'n you didn't...."

I'sai mutters something about not -seeing- his parents; rueful, "Makes me
wonder, if only for a moment, how it might've been if Taralyth'd been..." a
glance sweeps their dragons, and he changes that to, "Blue, let's say; or
if Myk'd not been so -fond- of the creatures, and good with them, to boot."

A'deth chuckles again. "Wondering like that can make a man mad. Best to
live with what you have, and be content with it."

"Mad, if he's not already," I'sai's blithe about pointing out.

"Blue or bronze," Kassi opines, "he'd still be Taralyth, wouldn't he?"
Which seems, from her perspective, to be answer enough. "If'n Myk hadn't,
well, that's harder t'be saying--shhh, Is. You shouldn't *warn* him that
you're insane. Leave it as a fun surprise for him t'figure out on his own!"

You sense I'sai shifts; and, however uneasy when it comes to praise -
still, there's that sudden smile to reflect her own, thanks in his turn.

I'sai senses Kassima's eyes do dance at that fidgeting--a tiny piece of
revenge, however unintentional, for that earlier incident perhaps?--but her
smile back is genuine. Quite welcome; don't mention it.

"I won't say it's not shaped us," I'sai says, slow; and there's a smile
that finds him somewhere in there, too. "Still and all. Well, the world
goes as it would, and not as you and I might think it. - Next question? and
after that, I probably ought to convince my dragon to take me to cold,
snowy lands from nice warm seas."

I'sai says "Or at least -try-."

"Good *luck*," Kassi bids on roughly the same breath as the trying; she
offers a rueful smile with just a hint of shadow to it for the earlier
sentiment. "Nor as we might wish," is her concurrance. "One more, but then
'twill have t'follow the lead and hope that Lyss can be dragged. Only nay
literally. She's *heavy*."

A'deth inquires softly, "Probably?"

I'sai tips his glass, nigh-emptied, as display: "Could stay for a second,
but then I'd be all yawning for the weyrlings; and Myk might worry, knowing
there's no flight, if Tear's too much asleep to tell Nioth it's also no
accident or injury or such. ...Don't suppose -you'd- lead, Kassi?"

A'deth murmurs, edged, "We could always say Jaelith rose." Direct, he can be.

Kassima opens her mouth to reply... then falls silent, both brows
attempting the ascent of Mt. Forehead.

Jaelith fans her wings and preens, obligingly. She doesn't quite glow on
cue, but she's an agreeable conspirator. Her gaze, brilliant blue, rests on
Taralyth.

Whereas Lysseth's eyes, by contrast, take on just the faintest hint of red
out where she lurks in the depths. Imagine that.

Startlement - but whether it's the brandy or no, I'sai takes not offense;
instead there's simple explanation, "Some weyrmates're like that; but we're
not, see, and I won't. Though I thank you for the - 'compliment'? Yes. When
she does..." but though he looks to Jaelith, he doesn't risk looking long.
And humor's struck, "...Plus, it'd be hard to explain why Lyss rose at the
same time, and just how he managed to fly them both."

A'deth states to no one in particular, "Rings, what did I say." But there's
no more sting in his tone. "Well enough, and it was good to share drinks
with you again."

"I don't think that's what he had in mind," Kassima quips, the roulette
wheel-o'-reaction that led to that rare moment of genuine speechlessness
having evidently settled on 'tense.' Though Is's reply does seem to have
eased that, somewhat. "Methinks, in either event, 'tis definitely time that
I take m'leave. Thankee for the drink and stories, A'deth; thankee for the
tolerance, as ever, I'sai."

A'deth adds, "My apologies to both of you."

Kassima only shakes her head. "None needed t'me," she assures, even as she
rises and starts the walk towards Lysseth's waiting straps, with the dragon
to whom they belong already swimming--grumpily--towards the beach at
rider's bidding.

"No?" and whether I'sai may or may not have surmised likewise, he's
evidently chosen to take it as invitation for the Telgari both; moving on,
he's mustered enough equanimity to say - even as Taralyth's roused from the
deep, come up onto land to shake water from wings, well clear from others
likewise - "No reason you'd have known.... Next time," as if there's to be
a next time, "You two ought to trade recipes, vintages, and suchlike - and,
Kassi? I'd hope I'd get a -little- more than tolerance, confessing Mart's
secrets and all!"

A'deth states simply, "The company has been excellent. If there is a next
time, I'd treasure it dearly."

"I'd think nay," Kassi half-confirms, shrugging, as those straps find their
way onto Lysseth's damp neck along with a quick, soothing caress. She'll
not comment on the next time; simply say, "'Twas a pleasure, aye... and,
well, all right, tolerance and lies; will that do?" There's at least a note
of humor there, before she climbs on up.

You place one hand on Lysseth's neck and she warbles down at you fondly.
You grin and scratch her eyeridges once before climbing up onto her lower
neckridges, using the riding straps and Lysseth's thoughtfully offered
foreleg.

<*> A'deth rises, and makes his way to Jaelith. Wordlessly, he lifts a hand.

<*> A'deth clambers up onto Jaelith's neckridges with the assistance of the
green dragon's riding-straps.

<*> A quick, sideways smile his way - but past that, I'sai waves her high:
the better to relish the practiced mounting, and the lift of wings'
ash-brushed pine.

<*> Jaelith heads toward the WeaverCraft Hall.

Kassima lifts her hand after a moment in return salute; then, perhaps
because she's waved, perhaps despite, she signals Lyss to launch; pine
flares, wind stirs.

<*> Lysseth spreads her wings to their full extent, bringing them down with
a rush of wind as she leaps nimbly into the air.

You launch upwards.