The Days of Our Lives - Hatching Feast

[stolenhart]

Since the Hatching had started so early in the morning, the Feast had been put off until dinner that night. Which meant the Weyrlings got to spend the day doing as they pleased. T'ran was pleased that move of them seemed to prefer staying in the cavern with their sleeping dragonets, all to the good since he'd yet to replace their deceased Weyrlingmaster. There were a few good prospects and one that T'ran was particularly interested in but he hadn't settled on his decision yet. He'd told Gimna all about the Hatching, explaining about Crescentia, who had Impressed the gold. Gimna had asked to meet her but both the Healer and T'ran said not today. Not with Hallek in residence. If Hallek knew Gimna was talking to the new Weyrwoman he'd want to be on the meeting and no one could deny him that right.

He had however, carried Gimna to Vandyith's Weyr, where the gold had flown straight to now that her eggs were Hatched. The change in the gold had been nearly immediate having been denied sight of her rider for months. And the change in Gimna had been just as strong, her cheeks were ready and she didn't seem to have as much trouble breathing as she had been. She would never make a full recovery but a partial one was better than nothing. The Healer was hoping that maybe Gimna could start walking soon and he had discussed allowing Gimna to swim in the lake as long as T'ran watched over her. The news of which made T'ran feel a bit better than he had been feeling. The sour note of Mirrium's Impression had left a bad taste in his mouth but Gimna had agreed with him, though she too expressed distaste for the tradition.

But that was neither here nor there. Now was time for the Feast. Dressed in his Gather best, tailored pants and a shirt of deep brown and gold that brought out the color of his eyes, T'ran descended into the Kitchens by way of the Council Room stairs and nodded in approval. Some of the drudges had taken the liberty to string bunting around the cavern as well as hang colored glass glow lanterns to brighten the place up. The good smelled wonderful and he couldn't resist but to grab a piece of roast wherry from the table as he passed. The Headwoman gave him a look of disapproval as he made for his raised dias. Across from him the Harpers were busy setting up their stage while drudges were setting the tables. They had moved several tables out of the way so that there was a nice sized dance floor in the middle of the cavern. All in all the preparations were nearly done and it looked lovely.

Please do not post your Hatchlings unless they are asleep in the Barracks. Thanks

[shouriko]

F'kir liked Gathers, he liked parties and feasts and the like, but there were parts of them he did not. Even though he knew that in some way this was for him and Atizmath, F'kir was still a little hesitant about going. He sat on the stone couch with the little bronze behind him. He already had heard some people remark on his youth and the condition of the bronze and how there were few who were approving of him. It seemed that no matter where he went, he was destined to be set apart from the others, destined to be the black sheep of the group.

He sighed and glanced at Atizmath. If everyone else knew just how intelligent he was and how strong his mind was, they'd not dismiss him so easily. Of course he didn't seem to care about what everyone said or thought about him. The bronze had said so himself in his own way. That was another thing about him, the way he spoke was very unique. He always seemed to dance around the words he was saying. F'kir would get confused at times, but because he was so good at listening and noticing things, he was able to grasp at what the meaning was.

Mine go you will. Atizmath said with a tired tone to his mindvoice. Fun you will have, friends you will make.

F'kir smiled to himself, glad that he had someone who understood. Though he would go if not for his sake, then because Atizmath said so... there was one problem. F'kir didn't have anything that was very nice. He didn't have anything very colorful and those that he did were not in the very best of condition. He had changed already into black pants and a decent pale green tunis, but he would not look very splendid. Then he looked at the bronze once more. He didn't care aboput how he looked or what others thought. Why should he?

With that in mind, that was how he got there. F'kir stood at the entrance looking around at everything. It would not be so easy to see everything once it was full of people milling around and dancing. He wanted to try to see everything so that he would never forget this day. It was the day when he found out where he belonged and what he was meant to do.

[Femisis]

As tired as she was, Crescentia was having a hard time falling asleep. She’d fed Anaelth until she was fit to burst and now the little Queen was sound asleep on her couch. It was quiet, too quiet, she decided after a while. She had her own separate building that was part of the barracks, but it just seemed a bit, lonely was all. “Shards, this isn’t working.” She growled, shifting on her cot to try and get comfortable. Between her exhaustion and the multitude of emotions she was trying to sort out, sleep wasn’t coming easily, not to mention that the cot wasn’t all that comfortable.

“Forget this.” She sighed as she got up, swinging her legs over the edge of the cot to stand up and padding over to Anaelth. She lay down next to her dragon, body spooned against the warm hatchling’s body. It was a bit before she was comfortable, but once she was, she felt herself doze off to Anaelth’s heartbeats.

Mine.[/color]

“Ten more minutes…”

MINE.[/color]

“Leave me ‘lone…”

MINE![/color]

Crescentia sat up straight as board as the words shot through her mind (And pain shot through her arm.). She turned her head to find Anaelth gnawing on her arm to wake her up. “What?” She groaned, flopping back down beside her dragon. “I’m tired.”

There’s someone here to see you.[/color] Anaelth stated lightly, lowering her head to nuzzle her rider affectionately. She looks like you.[/color] She snorted, tongue snaking out so she could nibble on her rider’s hair. She’s waiting outside.[/color]

“Mother?” She said aloud, sitting up again much to the hatchlings disappointment. As if on cue, Sere entered with a large trunk containing only Faranth knew what. Taking a moment to untangle herself from Anaelth’s limbs, Cresce stood up and ran to hug her mother who promptly dropped the trunk. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Sere smiled lightly as she hugged her oldest daughter back. “I was going to send Reren, but it seemed better if I came.” She replied. Her eyes strayed for a moment from her daughter’s face to the hatchling staring back at her, head on her paws as her tail waved like a snake. “Is that her, then?” Sere asked almost in awe. She hadn’t seen a dragon since… HE happened, and never a hatchling until today.

Cresce nodded as she pulled away, gesturing for the Queen to come over. “Yeah. This is Anaelth. Ana, this is my mother.”

Does she have food?[/color] The Queenling nosed the trunk first, then latched onto the hem of Sere’s dress, chewing on it until Cresce pulled her off. I like her.[/color] She decided once she got over the disappointment of having her chew toy taken away once again.

You’d better like her. Cresce replied, trying out their mental link, though her tone was nothing but kind. To her mother, she said, “I’ll try and come visit, I promise, though I don’t think that jerk T’ran will let me go much of anywhere without a full guard of seventy people.” She snorted, intentionally over exaggerating the claim. A guard wasn’t a bad idea, but she wouldn’t ask any of the Bronzeriders. Hallek probably had them all under his thumb.

Sere smiled and hugged her daughter again, trying to convey to her all the strength of a mother’s love. “You’ll do wonderfully, love.” She murmured, trying to keep the tears back. “Especially with Ana at your side.”

Why do you keep calling me that?[/color]

It’s a nickname. Came the reply. “Oh, don’t cry, you can come see us sometime.” She replied, trying to keep the tears back herself. Faranth, she wasn’t supposed to CRY…

“Well, I’ll let you get ready for the feast, then.” Sere sniffed, wiping a tear from her eye. “We’ll all be there, so look for us once you’re done with all the others.” Giving Cresce one final hug she departed, leaving the new weyrling pair alone once more.

Don’t cry, Mine. I’m here.[/color] Anaelth crooned as she nudged her rider gently. I’LL never leave you.[/color]

“I know you won’t.” Came the sniffly reply, though it only lasted for a moment. “I need to get ready.” The mental succession of images Anaelth saw was enough to bore her to tears, so she opted to return to her couch and sleep. After all, hatching is a difficult task.

With her dragon asleep, Cresce began the long process of preparing for the feast. After checking to make sure that the showers were deserted (She didn’t need any perverts trying to sneak a peek.) she took a hurried shower before returning inside to see what her mother had brought in the way of clothes. “Thank Faranth.” She sighed in relief as she pulled a garment out and examined it carefully. Good as ever, Sere had packed her favorite gather dress, though dress might have been too strong a word for it. A bright amethyst color, the garment fit like a tunic without sleeves and resembled a dress in which the back came down to her ankles while the front was cut open about mid thigh. She wore a tall pair of boots that came to almost exactly where the gown ended. A pair of long white gloves that came to the middle of her biceps completed the ensemble.

“How do I look?” She asked as she pulled her hair up in to a half-ponytail so that she could keep it down but it would still stay out of her face.

Very pretty.[/color] Came the groggy reply as Anaelth partially opened one eye to check Hers before closing it again. Now go and have fun, I would like to sleep.[/color] She added, flicking her tail before falling asleep for real.

“Fine.” Cresce snorted in amusement as she left the building to return to the Weyr proper, her stomach feeling oddly tight.

It was warm inside the main cavern, she had to admit, though it was mercifully still lacking the mass of people that were expected to arrive. It didn’t look like things had really started yet and her stomach growled in disapproval. It was then that she was reminded that she hadn’t eaten since the evening before and groaned. “Faranth, I’m starving…” She grumbled as she went to join a boy(F'kir) she remembered from the hatching. He’d Impressed, but she couldn’t remember what to. He might have Impressed while they were all focused on Anaelth. “I’m hungry enough to eat an entire wherry myself.” She remarked to him, crossing her arms over her chest to settle into a more comfortable standing position. “Wonder when we can eat.”

[shouriko]

He couldn't recall for just how long he had been standing in that one spot in particular. F'kir was still observing and making a strong mental image. At least Atizmath would know how the feast looked and went because he was insistent on remembering as many details as possible. Of course, he was not so terribly lost in his thoughts to not have heard the dull thud of footsteps coming from behind. The footsteps stopped from his side and he looked and found a very well dressed young woman who was just slightly taller than himself. He would well be known as one of the youngest newly made dragonriders, but she was certainly among the elders. F'kir's gray eyes stared unblinking at her and he gazed at the light violet coloring of her unique dress, the thigh-high boots, the long-up-to-the-elbow gloves, and even the set of her hair. She was a stand-out, much different from himself, and she at least had something very nice to wear compared to himself.

Food, though, was a good point that she made. F'kir had always been able to focus on things and put worries aside, even hunger, but now it began to gnaw at him as he was reminded about that single life essential. Passively he rubbed the back of his neck with some degree of uncertainty and considered how to reply, because clearly the question was directed to him. This was a feast and there was a wide array of food assembled and set out. The feast was not well underway and Harpers were warming up and getting ready to play to a larger, very happy, very excited audience. It was in his conclusion that even though it had not truly begun, in all officiality it had.

"Now." F'kir said simply and quietly with a voice that still had not felt the deeper touch of manhood.

He took a sure-footed step forward and approached the feast himself. Whether or not the girl followed was up to her, but he was not afraid to take the first step. F'kir tried to remember just where he had seen her from before the hatching because he knew that he had. There was really only one other occurrence possible and that was the touching. She was the one who had gone violent upon the Apprentice Harper and slapped him. She was volatile, unfriendly, rude, and though she seemed in a good mood now, he was not willing to anger her. At least not with the intent to do so. He had very often unintentionally offended and hurt the pride and feelings of others, he just hoped he would not do so here. Not if he could help it.

She was Crescentia, F'kir remembered, the young lady, yes lady, who had impressed the gold. He did not know too much, but he did know that she was related to a Holder. No wonder the nice and fancy garments. It also half-explained her attitude. The gold's name was Anaelth, wasn't it? He hadn't heard properly, but Atizmath had told him later. It was good to know.

[stolenhart]

T'ran had been waiting for her to appear, talking to a Harper here or one of the visiting Healers. He still had to appoint a Weyrlingmaster and he hoped his choice would show up soon but if he didn't, well T'ran could always do the lessons on the first day. He'd wanted that job, to work under Th'var, but other things had interceeded. Aw well, at least he'd always be a wingleader, that was something at the very least. He excused himself from the visiting runner breeder he was conferring with, about Lidal's new warrior beasts, and headed for the entrance.

He noticed the stares coming his way from women all over the cavern, he was too much of a man not to notice but he ignored them. He had too many things on his mind that day to worry about women in general, he was only worrying about two. "Crescentia and F'kir", he actually gave the pair a large smile. He had Searched both of them, or rather Knymawth had, and to have both of them not only Impress but Impress highly had knocked him over with a feather. Had he known Knymawth was that good, he'd have made a play for Weyrleadership sooner. "Congratulations on your Impressions, Anaelth and Atizmath are fine Hatchlings", he added, moving to Crescentia's side.

"You'll be sitting on the dais with me and Hallek", he informed her. T"ran was very afraid for Crescentia, he figured she could take care of herself but now she had to take care of a Weyr and T'ran wasn't sure if Cresce knew what that entailed yet. "And you are going to meet Gimna tonight as well", then just before another rider came to claim his attention over soem trivial matter, "And you are dancing the first with me", he added as the rider pulled him away to discuss some plan or other for tomorrow's patrols.

[Edward]

The youth would awaken from his nap. The time he spent doing that could have been used for an abundance of other things, but that was beside the point now. He had done it and he felt great about it as well. The energy that he now had burst out of him, though he wouldn't let this show of course. It was more of a mental burst. He knew well what was to come later this day, and he would make it on time as well. He would have to start getting ready now. Getting up, the male would go through his clothes. His father had made his brother bring him the outfit for tonight. it was to no surprise that the bronze rider wouldn't make time to do it himself, but there was nothing B'ral could do about that. Some other time he would see his father. He had more pressing matters that floated in his mind at this moment; like getting ready for the feast.

Why is it that you are in such a rush. mine? B'ral would look back at the bronze for a second. Imperioth was laying down as it seemed he had just woken up. Surely he wasn't done resting. Maybe he had felt the disturbance in B'ral. "I have to get to the feast. Don't worry about anything. just continue resting. Nothing is wrong." Russet would even look up himself as he chirped, a bit, attempting to get the males attention. B'ral would give it a small pat as he proceeded to dress up. The get-up his father had brought him wasn't something that much off of what B'ral expected. If you say so mine. I'm tired anyways. I'll continue to rest.. One final look at the bronze would reveal that he was once again, like he said he would be, sleeping.

After a few more minutes the new bronze rider would be fully dressed, and headed out of his room. With Imperioth and Russet sleeping, the door would shut and B'ral would exit the room. Walking down the passages, the male would look down multiple halls as he passed by them, making sure to catch a glimpse at whatever it was that was down it. He wanted to be prepared just in case he had to go down any of them any time soon. Making his way to the feast. Once he arrived, he didn't see as many people as he was expecting to see. She, however, was here. The girl that had impressed the gold. He would make it to her at least once this night...

[shouriko]

F'kir had seen him talking busily with Harpers and various crafters, but he should have known that with Crescentia near him, the new gold rider for Southern, he would approach. His smile was small but evident as he stopped and stood tall and greeted in return, "T'ran." He was the man who had searched him. If not for him, his dragon, and his father, he'd still be suffocating in his close family. He had so much gratitude and appreciation for the Weyrleader, but he could hardly express it.

"Congratulations on your Impressions, Anaelth and Atizmath are fine Hatchlings"

His gray eyes went wide. No one had said anything good about Atizmath. He was being called the shame of bronzes everywhere from the very beginning of Pern and the first dragonriders. F'kir lowered his gaze at first, but then looked back at T'ran and replied, "No one has complimented Atizmath yet but I, he will be glad to know that he is not seen as a failure as a bronze, though he does not let the words get to him. Thank you, T'ran."

It was perhaps the most he had ever said to another person outside his family for a very long time, but he liked T'ran. That made a difference to him, and he could not say what he wanted in fewer words than that. Still, though it might not matter as much to Atizmath, it mattered to him. Of course, it could give the little bronze a little more sense of pride knowing that the Weyrleader himself had such praise for him. He would have to be sure to tell him. Though as he was standing there with his thoughts as T'ran addressed Crescentia, he could hear an edge to the man's voice. It was not a steady voice. Something worried him. Whether it was Overholder Hallek, the condition of Gimna, or the dancing, there was something that made the man uneasy.

"I will watch her." F'kir said then, offering up his service. His gray eyes glistened with the determination he felt and though it might not mean much coming from a 14-turn old lad, he was very good at watching. Call it protective instinct taking over or whatever you felt like calling it. He knew that it might make her angry too, but still, he compensated by adding, "I can be far away, but I will watch her."

[shouriko]

D'von had never been one for appearances, but his mother had. Whenever they went to Gathers or markets or anywhere other than their little gathering of friendly families it was necessary to look nice. His mother had always been insistant on good-looking sons finding pretty women. D'von hadn't found any obviously, else he would not likely be here. In any case, he only caught attention when he minded his hair and today he would. He was a dragonrider now and he felt responsible for his appearance more than before.

So he pulled out his dress tunic of pale blue that well complimented his cerulean eyes. It had gorgeous embroidery in brown and was quite fetching. He had a nice black leather vest and that went over the tunic, but it did not take away from the gorgeous embroidery. It left him with the nicest pair of black leather breeches he had. He had occasionally used them when breaking the random young runner, but other than that, they were in good condition. There was obly one item he wore that was not new and nice-looking and that were his boots. They were well worn, but very comfortable. He tugged those on and left it at that and all that remained was his long, roguish hair.

D'von took a frayed blue ribbon from a pocket and quickly gathered some of the sandy-blonde hair and tied it back. Some of the hair would loosen and free itself, but his face could actually be seen now for all that it was. This included the faint shadow of blonde bristles along the jawline and chin. He could not help it much, but there was some facial hair there. There was no time to bother with a razor and so he just left it as is.

You look nice, going to the party? Seratanth asked, opening a drowsy eye as he continued to sleep off his massive first meal of his life. You should eat for me since I cannot He closed the eye and thought happily of meat.

He chuckled as he replied, "I am famished." D'von did like how they both had food on the mind half the time. They were going to get along famously. From there he gave the stocky brown a hearty love-filled pat and left to go to the feast.

Getting there was easy. He'd been to Gathers, feasts, festivals, and the like, so this was no different except the lack of live animals. Besides, this was a different and new kind of celebration. D'von happily joined the growing group of participants and had no hesitation in going to the table with the platter of food. If he was hungry, he wouldn't be able to dance and he intended to do just that. He liked to dance and have a good time and that was what this was for, wasn't it?

[fauxfox]

Aimry was not having what you might call a ‘good day’. He’d not slept in something like twenty-four candlemarks, his arm hurt from where Josef had wrenched it earlier, and his head ached from the number of lectures he’d received since that fateful morning. But none of this, none of it at all compared to the overwhelming upset that was having some other creatures mind tacked so rudely on to the side of his. He was a private person, his head was really the very last thing that he had any power or comfort in; the idea of someone else being able to trudge through that so-called ‘mind link’ at will was not only annoying but terrifying. As such he’d spent most of his day blocking her out.

“Shard it, boy, pay attention,” Josef hissed. It was the fourth bum-note he’d hit during their warm up alone, and the Master Harper didn’t usually let him get past his first. His apprentice frowned rebelliously; he did not want to be here. After Josef had finally taken charge of his reluctance on the Stands that morning, marching him pitilessly down to meet his new, green, ‘friend’ (hence the wrenched arm) someone had decided it was probably best if the pair were kept separate from their fellow weyrlings for a while and allowed to ‘bond’. This hadn’t exactly worked to plan. Aimry had dutifully fed the little dragon then plainly told her not to talk to him unless Faranth herself compelled her, and spent the rest of the day staring at the ceiling. By the time Aimry and little Genilth had been escorted to the barracks most weyrlings were either asleep or out enjoying the congratulations. He’d had to be bullied into attending the Hatching Banquet at all. The young Harper drew another sour note from his fiddle, but this one on purpose. “Go. Just.. go. I’ll expect to see you later.” The WeyrHarper waved him away in a tone of voice the seventeen-turn-old identified as leave now or suffer a broken rib.

Grudgingly Aimry laid aside his fiddle and, ignoring anyone who tried to catch his attention, headed straight towards the wine table. He planned to get very, very drunk tonight, and if all went well, forget that today had ever happened.

ooc. gah, sorry for taking so long, and posting such crap. life is a little busy at the moment.

[shouriko]

D'von had his plate as full as he could get it. If he tried to add any more, than it would fall off all the slightest bump. He'd hate for that to happen. This was particularly a shame if it happened because he was terribly famished. Yet he could sit at one of the tables set up and eat without snagging himself something to drink and considering that this was a celebration, that meant wine was what he wanted. He got himself a goblet, poured it to the brim and put it down just in time to see Aimry arrive to the table. There had been news of the green dragon who impressed to a lad in the stands and as he inquired after it, found out that it was the Apprentice Harper. He only knew one who might not be happy about dragonriding and that was Aimry.

"H'lo Aimry." D'von greeted him. Rather than bring up his impression, he decided to talk of his own. "Y'know you were righ', I did impress brown, jus' like yer said." His blue eyes glittered as he smiled at his friend. He wasn't too sure how Aimry was taking being impressed, after all, how could you deny half of yourself? Was it even possible to do so to begin with? D'von didn't know at all and he figured he could always have a sit down with the Weyrlingmaster, when he was assigned, and have a nice chat with him about it. He was going to learn all that he could so that he would not fail at his job as a dragonrider.

"Yer goin' be playin' with teh Harpers t'nigh'?" D'von asked, seeing that he had come from that direction.

[Femisis]

Cresce merely cocked a brow a F’kir’s reply, not really in the mood for a fight right now. He was really quiet if she remembered rightly, though not mean. Then again, she’d known him for all of a few hours, so it was rather difficult to make any sort of assessment of him. In any case, she followed him for the food, being desperately hungry. There was so much to eat, so many choices… She’d seen this much food plenty of times before but it all just seemed so overwhelming right now. She’d just picked up a goblet of juice (Wine at this point would probably just make her sick) when she heard T’ran’s booming voice behind them.

“Thank you, I’ll be sure to let her know.” The blond commented wryly, raising her goblet a bit to him before taking a long draught. She knew his only interest in Anaelth was getting into her bed, but that was going to change rather quickly even if the many other things she intended to fix wouldn’t. At the mention of sitting on the dias with both the Bronzerider and Hallek, she felt her breath catch in her throat for a moment before she calmed once more. The over Holder wouldn’t try anything at the feast, would he, with so many riders about? No, she was just being paranoid. But was that really a bad thing?

“In your dreams.” She snorted under her breath as T’ran left. Who was he to say who she’d dance with. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to F’kir with an odd expression on her face. She most certainly didn’t need to be protected, especially by a kid quite a few turns younger than she was, but at the same time, it was nice to know that someone was willing to watch her back. “Thanks.” She replied evenly, as she studied him. Now, T’ran had said Atizmath, right? If he had, then she was almost positive she knew which dragon belonged to the younger boy. The butt-ugly Bronze, right? “Atizmath is the sure-footed one, right? I noticed that he wasn’t as awkward as the other hatchlings.” She commented easily. Even if the hatchling was ugly as sin, she wasn’t going to tell him that. Besides, beauty was only skin deep as the old wives liked to say, so who knew?

[lucius]

It was to be expected that I'en and Naraez came together. The two hadn't been fighting as of late, and Ytaisuth's last flight had been two weeks before the Hatching, so I'en wasn't irritable. I'en kept a hand on Na'z's wrist, blue eyes darting around the room. "Music hasn't started yet," he commented. "I'm surprised we came on time, though, we're usually late."

Na'z rolled his eyes. He was usually late because of work with Th'var. But now Th'var was gone. The old brownrider had fought until the bitter end, and even he had lost. Na'z sighed. It was.. Not good, this feeling of uselessness. Would he be promoted? Th'var had no assistants other than Na'z, for he was fairly good at chasing off anyone, assistants, Weyrlings, and all.

Subconscious habits took in and he found himself checking the new Weyrlings. The only one that would prove to be a challenge, and that would be the gold rider. Na'z was one of the few that didn't despise the shipping off of female riders. Women were useful for one thing: reproduction. That was all. His experiences with women had been less than pleasant, and he had found that most were brainless, spineless, and/or ugly.

But I'en was there, and for now Na'z wasn't going to have anything to do with the Weyrlings. He would enjoy his night, yes he would.

[shouriko]

F'kir looked back at Crescentia. He was wary of her, but not afraid. He was being respectful and courteous and that was enough. Keeping an eye on her was not just for her sake, but it would keep him busy. He really hadn't made friends and aside from filling his belly and not at all terribly interested in dancing, there wasn't much else for him to do. His gray eyes reflected her image as he looked back at her and gave a curt nod in reply to her admittance of thanks.

Her words about Atizmath were quite true. He was indeed the most sturdy dragon among the bronzes, though there were only three, and he was likely more intelligent as well. "Atizmath is both what you say and do not." F'kir could see that she knew him to be the ugly one of the clutch. He'd rather her say it outright rather than think it in the obvious way that he could hear her saying it with just her eyes. Of course his words were not exactly good ones. How to remediate?

"You've impressed gold, Anaelth." A very obvious thing to say, but it was true. It may happen that one day they could work together. He wasn't sure what to make of that, his being a leader, but he would do it if that was what he was supposed to do. Someone had to, and so would she. "You'll be a leader."

[Edward]

She seemed to be busy, however, and there was more pressing matters that B'ral needed to attend to. The main one, of course, being acquiring something to eat. It had been quite some time since the youth had eaten, and his stomach had been asking him for some food for quite some time. It was about time that the new rider indulged himself with food. It wasn't long before B'ral had placed himself in line to receive food. Once he received his fair share, which was all he really wanted, he placed himself at a random dining table. There was no specific one that he felt that he should sit at.

The bronze rider calmly ate his morsel as he thought about what he would even speak to the new gold rider about. There was an abundance of things that he could speak of, but what she wanted to speak of was what B'ral was trying to figure out. It didn't honestly matter, but he was making a big deal over it at the moment. After a few more minutes of eating, he stood and searched the room. It was obvious to him who he had been looking for and she was currently talking to some young child.

That mattered not, and the male proceeded to walk over to the female. B'ral would approach the two with a air of confidence. He could care less about the younger one of the two, but he would still acknowledge him for it was only fair, for he was also a bronze rider, and he deserved the respect, somewhat... "Hello. It's nice to finally meet you." The 'hello' was directed to the two of them, but the rest was blatantly directed to only the female for B'ral even turned to just face her. Simple way to start...

[fauxfox]

Finding himself the deepest goblet available Aimry was grimly sloshing it full of wine when he recognised the other individual at the drinks table and half cursed his luck. Nonchalance wearing thin he barely reacted to the greeting, though there was the sense that he’d taken note of it nonetheless. He was mildly surprised, however, when the herder didn’t immediately try to engage him in the wonder of Impression, taking a rather droller stab at conversation. It suggested he either didn’t know about the apprentice’s hatching woes or, more likely, was smart enough not to broach the subject. Perhaps he’d underestimated the older boy’s intuitiveness.

“Seratanth,” he said, recalling the name out of the many he’d made an effort to memorize during the morning proceedings. The brown had been a squat young creature, but there had been murmurs that many weyrfolk considered this a positive omen of a strong adult to come. Good for him. It looked like Daevon had a fine little warmachine on his hands. No, that wasn’t right anymore, was it? What with the honorific shortening that came from becoming a rider, it would be D’von he supposed – like he was now A’mry. The alien name left a sour feel in his head and he shoved it aside, aggravation and rebellion against his new circumstances rising like nausea in his throat. “I hope you don’t expect to take a cut of my winnings.” He smirked thinly but the quip lacked genuine mirth, turning the humour mordant. Lifting his goblet to his lips he took a long swig, caring little for the flavour of the beverage so long as it had the desired intoxicating effect.

“Depends how much I manage to drink,” he muttered to the question of him playing, aware that he’d probably pay the cost in terms of the hangover and his master’s disapproval, but far from in the mood to care. Eyes roaming the gather hall he found the clump of fellow ‘weyrlings’ with some scorn, noting the way that the young bronzers already swarmed around the new gold. Like sharding wherries ‘round a herdbeast carcass. If they expected him to lay down his respect and his life for this woman the Weyr was going to be sorely disappointed.

[shouriko]

D'von laughed wholeheartedly at Aimry's words. He really wasn't interested in winnings for himself. He rather liked to earn his own to begin with. He shook his head as he replied, "Nah, you can keep 'em. I jus' wondered how yer did wit' all that bettin' an' teh like. I remember you talkin' 'bout it an' all. Yer did well, didn' you? You got me right'." He impressed Seratanth just as he had identified him. He had gotten quite a few congratulations and some people seemed to have done so simply because he was part of their bet, but really, why thank him? They ought to thank Seratanth. He just stood there and accepted the brown's choice, that wasn't doing much at all.

"Well, if drinkin' a lot means you play better an' all, then here's to that. I want to hear yer playin' since you play fiddle. My favorite one to kick my feet up." D'von remarked, taking a drink of his own after saying so. He still had to eat yet, but he wondered just what it was about impressing had got the other boy down. Hadn't he been the one curious about just what a dragon found valuable in a person? Wasn't this the best chance to find the answer to that very question that he had?

"I'm'll sit over there, join me if yer wanna. Otherwise, watch yer back a bit, eh?" D'von figured it just might be better to leave the Apprentice Harper to his drinking. If he wanted a drinking buddy, he'd oblige, but only after he some more, he was after all quite hungry.

[stolenhart]

T'ran waved N'az over once he saw the brownrider enter the Cavern. How such a guy ever managed a brown was beyond T'ran but he had been Th'var's assistant for longer than anyone else and T'ran could work with the man which was what mattered. In the few turns T'rans had helped Th'var out, he'd seen the younger brownrider run off a good deal many people rider or not. But T'ran had to admit the man knew his stuff when it came down to combat and apart from hismelf, there was no one else willing to take the job.

Hoping he had caught N'az's eye he headed for the Harpers dias to talk to Harper Josef. That man would have to tell A'mry he was expelled from the college for the duration of his Weyrling training. Once training was over with, A'mry could take lessons from the man again or find another Weyr Harper to teach him. And N'az was going to have to lay the law down on him already, trying to drink himself under the table, trying to lose his Hatchling what a bother. And a death threat wouldn't mean much to his type, though if A'mry caused his Hatchling to go between, T'ran would personally see to it the young weyrling was executed. That was one law of Hallek's, T'ran would gladly follow at least this once.

And Cresce? What was he going to do about her? Already his fellow bronzeriders were swarming around her. Well she was pretty, they'd leave her alone soon enough, especially if Gimna was able to start moving around. They'd realize she'd be Junior for long turns yet and have no choice but to leave her be. Afterall catching the juniors gold got you nothing but halfway decent bed fun.

"Harper Josef", he said solemnly, finally making his way to the Harpers.

[fauxfox]

The earnest laughter sounded wrong to his ears, discordant and grating that someone else could be so good humoured when he felt like breaking something. “I haven’t done bad out of you, that’s for sure. Twice the winnings, really. Half for you Impressing, half for guessing the colour.” Enough to replace his fiddle maybe… or attain himself passage north. The thought was a morbidly frivolous one, but desperately tempting despite the realities that made it impossible. He was not an independent person anymore, not really; the dragon latched on to his mind and soul made him dependant and depended upon. Shards, he hadn’t been responsible for anyone but himself in his entire life.

“I’ll strive to remain coherent, then. Though I’m not the only fiddler on call,” he glanced pointedly towards the small group of Harpers including Josef, the others visiting for the hatching and only too happy to lend their voices and instruments to the celebration. Draining the rest of his goblet the green weyrling refilled it, briefly following the ex-herder’s directions with his eyes to make note of where D’von intended to sit. In doing so his honeyed gaze caught on the imposing figure of the Weyrleader, heading in the direction of the Harpers. It could have been mere coincidence, but if he planned to make any mention of his future, Aimry wanted to be in earshot. “I’ll make no promises.” He smirked sardonically, but nodded to indicate that he’d heard the offer for company before slipping off through the crowd to edge closer to his elder’s conversation.

“Weyrleader,” Josef greeted, looking up from tuning his gitar. His tone was polite, but to be honest the WeyrHarper was beginning to wish he and his apprentice had never set foot on Southern soil. Aimry had been under his guidance since the boy was eight; if T’ran thought Impression, a mere inconvenience (or so he tried to convince himself) was going to change that the bronzerider was going to have a challenge on his hands. “A fine hatching. All healthy, all Impressed. You must be pleased.”

[stolenhart]

T'ran made a noise in the back of his throat and glanced away, predatory eyes falling onto A'mry's approaching figure. "I would have been better pleased if something had gone right", he admitted, turning back to eye the Harper. "But you are right, at least they are healthy", he didn't want to say anything about them all Impressing, he'd already lost one to the North. "Tomorrow morning I'd like to talk to you about A'mry", if T'ran hadn't gotten to the boy first. He could tell the young rider was not thrilled about Genilith and he was hoping it only meant he was having problems with his bond. "I just want to know if he's talked to you about anything just yet", it hadn't gotten under T'ran's nose that the Weyrling was already trying to get into cups.

If push came to shove, T'ran was sure Hallek would back him on this. The Holder wanted more riders not more Harpers and no one in the world would touch A'mry with a ten foot pole if he had a Hatchling trailing after him. And T'ran doubted Josef could deal with a dragonless man. His hope lay with N'az and quite possibly I'stel. If anyone could A'mry to fall in love with a dragon it would be I'stel, who had boundless enthusiasm for everything and despite outside appearances, had a deeper serious streak than anyone else knew. Speaking of I'stel.

"Curiosity killed the feline", I'stel said to A'mry, eyeing the Weyrling before turning to eye Josef. "In this case I'd say it was probably your former master".

[fauxfox]

“None died, only one was sent North, and your young gold Impressed to a strong girl. Small mercies, Sir Bronzerider, we should be glad of them,” the WeyrHarper lifted and dropped one shoulder in a benign shrug. He concentrated on turning the key at the head of the instrument for a moment, tightening a string carefully. Listening to the renewed twang he turned his grey glance back to the Weyrleader. “I’m… honoured that you’d spare such attention to my apprentice.” Josef inclined his head in calculating gratitude, starting on another key, another string. “I’m afraid I’ve had little contact since… the events of this morning. Though I understand he wishes to continue studying.” In reality the understanding was more of an assumption; Josef’s desires more than Aimry’s.

The apprentice in question had just run in to an I’stel-shaped obstacle, awfully convenient considering the dark look he’d caught off T’ran. He was on the point of stepping neatly around the handsome but nonetheless pesky new Weyrling when he registered what the youth had just said. Former master? He suspected that there would be difficulties with continuing as an apprentice and a sharding Weyrling, it was one of the many changes that rode on that wave of fearful nausea. “The curiosity or the feline?” A’mry enquired sarcastically, swirling the crimson liquor within its goblet. It was an alluring sight, and a scent that unfurled on the tongue as enticingly as the sweetest perfume.

“Congratulations on your Impression. Perhaps you’d like to join me in drinking to the grand event?” He smiled like a feline, lifting his glass to the new bluerider in sly invitation. Honestly he didn’t really expect the kid to take him up on it, it was more a sardonic implication to put up or get out of the way.