The Days of Our Lives - Hatching Feast

[stolenhart]

"Take your pick, though I wouldn't put money on either one surviving", I'stel replied, eyes watching the wine swirling in th cup. "I would say the same to you but none of us are sure it's an event you want to be congratulated on", he lifted an eyebrow in silent question. "I will share a drink with you but until you feel like celebrating, call it a friendly overture towards a closer than friendly future", the look he gave A'mry was full of knowing. The Harper may have forgotten but I'stel didn't, one had a green the other a blue, and I'stel never gave up a chase, though he might be deterred for the next turn.

"An understanding is it? Well I'll be sure to ask him myself", T'ran replied, "I have no problem with him picking up studies in a Turn, when the Weyrlingmaster says he can, but until then he won't have time to continue with his Harpering. Unless you want him to die in the next turn or so? There's a lot he has to learn", T'ran replied. Trying to snag himself a rider was he? Well T'ran would see about that, he'd see what A'mry wanted first before going to Hallek. He'd hate to take the boy's only connection out of the Weyr, make him more miserable than he already was. But at least I'stel seemed keen on the lad. Have to watch him, I'stel was teh type to break certain obligations without worrying about the consequences.

[fauxfox]

The ex-Northerner snorted at the analogy, dubious. Was I’stel honestly saying that the weyr would rid itself of Josef if he stuck his nose where he wasn’t welcome – and was that to say that A’mry’s welfare was no longer one of those ‘welcome’ areas? There was a novel concept. He couldn’t honestly remember a time when the Master Harper hadn’t been organising his life, moulding and preening him. Were it under any other circumstances, Aimry might have been pleased at the notion of more independence (this was a lie; the boy had spent too much time playing show-runner for independence to be anything but terrifying), but just to be put under someone else’s thumb? Worse, tied to them not only by himself, but by a dragon? No thanks. Maybe Josef was hidebound but at least it was a kind of miserable he knew.

“I’m afraid you’ll all have to excuse me if I’m not inanely grateful for a random event over which I had no choice,” he said derisively, eyes still on the exchange going on between the Weyrleader and WeyrHarper even if he couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. Faranth burn all nosy ‘peer’s. Despite his agitation, I’stel’s reply to the offer of a drink was intriguing enough to earn him a sharp, auric, look. “Oh, I think you’ve a way to go before that.” He smirked artfully, but there was a detectable air of shrewd consideration before he shrugged. No, the intricacies of what being a greenrider entailed had not dawned on him yet. He’d spent far too much effort pretending none of this was happening. “But any excuse for a drink. What’s your beverage of choice?”

Josef smiled and nodded agreeably, confident that his apprentice would choose familiarity over a frightening unknown – in this case, playing dragonrider. Of course he’d have to learn the basics, how to keep his new… friend content and quiet, he didn’t want an insane protégé afterall, but his loyalties were Josef’s alone. “I’m sure as a leader of men you can appreciate the value of a single Turn. I do not think it would be unreasonable for the boy to continue his education alongside his… training. In his free time, of course.” No matter what the Weyrleader said, Aimry belonged first to Harper Hall.

[stolenhart]

T'ran gave Josef a tight smile, "I think you've not heard alot about Weyrling Trainer Harper. He won't have any free time and what he does have will be used for sleeping", T'ran pointed out. And it was true, if A'mry wasn't feeding, bathing or oiling Genilith he'd be in lessons, eating or asleep. Training was a turn and a half and it was only after a turn that A'mry might find a spare bit of time to take up his Harpering again, if it didn't interfere with other duties first. "I'm not sure he'll be needing a Harper. If he's been with you any length of time, he can already read and write, but that is neither here nor there. We'll talk in the morning, good evening", he nodded to the MasterHarper and headed for Na'z. "Na'z", he called out trying to get the man's attention. A'mry might have first belonged to the Harper Hall but he belonged to the Weyr last, and the Weyr had a hold on the boy's soul, like it or not.

"Not so far as you seem to think", I'stel replied, holding up a skin of wine. "I usually get what I want in the end. Now", he took A'mry's cup and gave it a delicate sniff. "Pig swill, try this", he handed A'mry his own goblet. "I know you are from the North so I thought you might prefer this over our Southern stock". I'stel knew a rider or two, who risked embarassing capture to bring in smuggled skins of Benden white. Of course their pay off was worth it, most of the time. I'stel frowned, no Benden white for awhile, he doubted that the riders would give him the wine on an IOU.

[Edward]

The new blue rider wasn't sure what he was to do at this point. He had done all that he could for his dragon and now he was sound asleep. There honestly wasn't much left to do but either go to sleep or go to the feast, and M'tur was hungry. It, also, wouldn't hurt to converse a bit with all the other riders. It was one of M'tur's favorite things to do. He supposed it wouldn't be bad at all. The only problem was that he had nothing 'fancy' to wear to this event, but did it really matter if he did or not?

Regardless if he needed to or not, M'tur had ntohing TO wear to it. Since this was the case the male had simply chosen the best out of what he had. It was far from fancy, but hey... You can't get picky. With his changing complete, the male left his dragon, now sleeping, and his flitt, who was in the same condition, alone in the room as he left to have himself what he hoped would be a good time. As Murtur had walked down the halls he heard the chattering of voices coming from a certain room. Seeing as that seemed like the most obvious place, at the moment, he would go ahead and try there.

As he stepped into the room he saw countless people, not as much as he had suspected, but still quite the amount. Already people had been eating and discussing all and every types of matters. M'tur didn't know where to jump in so he simply chose to jump in with the food. He had been hungry for quite some time, anyways. After serving himself some food, the relatively young blue rider would take a seat and begin to consume his meal. He was in no rush to do so, and it was apparent. He made sure he relaxed during this time. He found no need to rush through any of this.

After his meal had been completed the blue rider would dawdle around the room as he searched for someone to talk to.

[lucius]

I'en talked about things and Na'z half-listened. His mind was elsewhere, mostly on who would succeed Th'var. He took customary glances at Weyrlings and watched them, dark eyes upon the drinks pouring from 'skin to cup to mouth. Had Th'var still been around, Na'z would have had them escorted out. Corporal punishment--ear-grabbing, head clouts, kicks to the rear--was to be saved until later in training when they knew they wouldn't get away with whatever they were trying to get away with.

And finally he had enough. "I'll be back in a minute," he said to I'en, cutting him off in mid-sentence. Up he went, but something else caught his attention first. "Na'z!" He knew that voice. He turned, nodding respectfully to T'ran.

"Sir," he said. Briefly, he glanced at A'mry. "I'm sorry, can this wait? I realize I have no position but..." He shook his head. "Pardon me."

And there it was: a free walk to A'mry's table. He smirked, placing a hand on the table. "What'cha drinking, boys?" he said. "Something good? Or perhaps not? Thinking of getting some wimmin, eh?" The smile dropped. He glanced at I'stel, recognized the knots, and then turned his full attention to A'mry. "I'm afraid you're going to have to leave the feast. Drinking as a weyrling is strictly prohibited, and while I'm not Weyrling Master, any decent rider," a pointed glare at I'stel, "would have pointed this out to you by now. So, hand over the ale and leave." Na'z paused, then remembered his lack of position. "Of course, provided that the Weyrleader supports my decision."

[stolenhart]

Women? I'stel lifted an eyebrow, he was not thinking of getting some 'wimmin' as this rider put it. "Apologies rider", I'stel replied though he didn't set the cup down. Not just any rider could come along and remove them from the feast and without a Weyrlingmaster there was nothign N'az could do. He glanced around, no one was looking their way so he glanced from A'mry to the brownrider.

T'ran followed Na'z's body and found him confronting I'stel and A'mry. Wondering just what the man was up to he followed after, frowning at I'stel over Na'z's shoulder. "I think that is a good idea Weyrlingmaster Na'z. I'stel and A'mry lads, have you met our new Weyrlingmaster? He's been quite keen to meet the two of yo, especially you I'stel", T'ran added. He hoped the extra emphasis on I'stel would alert Na'z to keep an eye on him. The newly Impressed bluerider was a trouble maker of unparelled skill.

"I haven't drunk anything yet sir", I'stel answered, trying to defend himself. "But I'stel you were intending too. We can do one of two things I'stel, you can stay here and drink until you pass out in which case you'll butcher every animal brought to the barracks tomorrow hung-over or you can go to the barracks now and dream about this Feast", T'ran replied, cutting off the younger man's appeals. "Weyrlingmaster will you also see to it that A'mry's things are taken to the barracks? And that he is settled in nicely? Any trouble from either one of them or someone else I am sure you are quite capable of handling. I'll send the rest of your weyrlings along shortly, as long as they behave themselves", he added as an afterthought. "I'll drop in tomorrow after breakfast to introduce myself formally". That was all, he gave I'stel a smirk, it was obvious the bluerider was not going to drink.

[fauxfox]

‘Wimmin’? Really? Aimry eyed the man who joined them with a small, mocking, smile, eyes glancing over the shoulder knots that denoted him as a Weyrlingmaster’s assistant briefly and unimpressed. “Oh, women a’plenty. You know how they fall over themselves for a taste of dragonrider,” He deadpanned, smelling the goblet I’stel had handed him with interest. Northern. Benden, if he wasn’t mistaken. Well, there was a nice surprise; the Southern brands tended to be acerbic to an unfamiliar palate, though his curiosity immediately turned to how the ex-candidate had managed to acquire it. He took a deep, appreciative sip even as Na’z turned serious, raising an eyebrow. As if on queue the Weyrleader joined them, having parted company from a faintly aggravated looking Josef. Considering the Harper’s skill of facades it took rather a lot to make the man look even slightly annoyed, a point to T’ran’s advantage he supposed.

“Charmed,” he responded to the mock introduction, rather entertained that he’d actually managed to get himself kicked out of the feast. But the notion of drink being entirely prohibited for the duration of Weyrlinghood? Aimry didn’t foresee that rule lasting long unbroken, let alone any others their new Weyrlingmaster planned to erect over the next few days. Glancing between bronzerider and I’stel he smirked lightly. “I don’t think he trusts you, I’stel. How discouraging.” Giving his Weyrleader and half-brother an appraising look he snorted under his breath. “I daresay I’m capable of escorting my own possessions.” He assured dryly, bringing the goblet to his lips one last time to drain it, knocking it back in one. It was probably some form of crime to treat a Benden so casually, but it was better warming his throat than letting I’stel be found out of possessing imported wine. Besides, no sense wasting a good cup-full. Goblet empty, he tossed it lightly for Na’z to catch. “Much obliged.”

[lucius]

Na'z would have had something lovely to say to I'stel and to A'mry, but it would seem T'ran came and spoke first

"I think that is a good idea Weyrlingmaster Na'z." He said that? Really? I'stel and A'mry lads, have you met our new Weyrlingmaster? He's been quite keen to meet the two of you, especially you I'stel."

He hadn't truly thought much of the new Weyrlings, but now he was Weyrlign Master and the attitude annoyed him even more. I'stel, at least, submitted. The same could not be said for A'mry. The cup was tossed and Na'z made no move to catch it. It clattered as it hit the floor, and on that cue Na'z lunged forward, grabbing at A'mry's ear.

"Get up, now." He was Weyrling Master now, and that meant no disrespect. "From your displays of disrespect and subordination, it is obvious you can't even be trusted with cleaning up wherrie dung. I'm not going to let you wander off and get into more trouble. As for your comments, we'll discuss further punishments after you're situated."

He used his free hand to salute the Weyrleader as he left. "Tomorrow, then, sir. And--" he hesitated, "--nevermind." With that, he released A'mry and glanced at the two riders. "Now, you're both going to leave. You," he glanced at I'stel, "will return to the barracks and will dispose of any items you should not have. Tell the same to other Weyrlings. And you," to A'mry, "are going to get yourself situated in the barracks under my supervision. For now, I believe that and barring from the Feast is enough." Th'var would have gone harder, Na'z knew that much, but Th'var also held the position for at least twenty years before Na'z even Impressed. He wasn't ready to push his power just yet.

[Femisis]

F’kir seemed to be a boy of few words, but she didn’t mind that. She preferred a quiet person to one who talked too much or, even worse, a person who let every stupid thought to come to their mind slip from their lips. Everything he’d said so far was short, sweet and to the point and despite his seeming unfriendliness, she found herself liking him just a little bit. “You Impressed Bronze, so the same could be said about you.” She pointed out as she took a sip of her juice. “Looks aren’t everything, after all, so your Atizmath could be a genius strategist and none of us know it yet.” She said by way of example. She couldn’t count the boy’s Bronze out just because he wasn’t the prettiest thing in the world. Dragons weren’t made to be pretty, they were made to fight Thread. But there wasn’t any thread left…

She was snapped out of her thoughts when someone said hello and she turned to face B’ral. She almost thought he seemed nice enough when he blatantly turned to address only her. Not ANOTHER one! Faranth, she hadn’t been a rider for an entire day and they were all already trying to get a roll in the furs with her! “It’s nice to meet you as well.” She replied, feigning civility when all she wanted to do was punch him in the face. “It is rude of you, however, to ignore my personal friend.” She told him sweetly with the threat of venom behind it.

“We three will probably be working very closely together the next few turns, so let’s try to get along, shall we?” Cresce suggested. She could care less whether they liked each other or not, but if they liked HER, for whatever reason, they might be less inclined to betray her to Hallek. Her intent was to try and establish companionships with as many as she could, though more amongst the Green and Blueriders. Though they carried less rank in the Weyr, there certainly were more of them. What could a few do against many?

[shouriko]

In the least, Crescentia wasn't rude at all about Atizmath and his appearance. In fact, it seemed as if she already knew what set him apart. F'kir was a little grateful for that. He was a very smart dragon and he probably was likely to be a very good strategist, you could just tell with the way he spoke. Even if it was sort of garbled and lost in riddle, there was a special mind that made such a thing possible. She was right about one other thing as well. In being a bronzerider, even he had the opportunity to lead, though he would like that, he would not fight for the position. He would rather earn it through honest work.

F'kir had heard the tone of B'ral's voice and saw the direction of his gaze. He clearly wasn't interested in his fellow bronze Weyrling. Not that it mattered to him, he didn't mind being ignored. In fact, he took a small step back to give himself a little more room between the three of them and a wider berth from B'ral. His gray eyes looked over the older boy and he tried to remember what he could about him, something beyond today's hatching and the bronze he impressed.

F'kir didn't say hello outright, instead he was silent. This was in part because he knew he had been partially ignored and also because of Crescentia's words. He was her personal friend she had said to B'ral and his gray eyes looked to her with mild surprise. He hadn't expected her to label him as such. Yet he did agree with her words. They would all be Weyrlings, growing and learning together, teamwork would be very important. They would need to rely on each other in order to be successful.

"Yes." F'kir agreed aloud. "You are B'ral, you impressed Imperioth, the last bronze, the one with the pink shine." He actually chose shine on purpose. If he had called him pink or pink color in general, it would imply he impressed a pink dragon. Instead he merely remarked on the shine the dragon had in the light. Though he could not recall just how reactionary B'ral was, he decided it didn't matter to him too much if it bothered him, besides, he just might ignore anything he said anyway.

[fauxfox]

The goblet clattered to the floor, a loud, audible attestation to the green weyrling’s impudence. A’mry snorted softly, lips parting to make some sarcastic quip on the matter, only to hiss in surprise and protest as his ear was imperiously yanked. Given little choice in the matter the seventeen year old reluctantly moved to the hand on his ear’s directions, giving their new Weyrlingmaster a look of mild scorn as he came to stand at his side. “They say a man who resorts to violence so easily has no faith in his words,” he smiled bitingly, rubbing his sore ear when it was finally relinquished. Not even good enough for wherrie dung, eh? Quite right. A’mry expected more imagination in a punishment than mere dung-shovelling, else he’d never learn to respect the man. That said, what was the worse they were going to do to him? Take his dragon away – oh no! She’d probably be better off on her own anyway.

“Under your supervision? I’m flattered that such a high ranking man would spend his time on little old me, really,” he deadpanned. Glancing past Na’z at the spread of other weyrlings enjoying the praise of family and weyrfolk, A’mry decided that leaving the feast wasn’t such an awful idea at all. The only family he had present were either ignorant of the fact or wouldn’t deign to acknowledge him, and most of the weyr’s inhabitants already seemed to know him as that guy who’d tried to deny his dragon. “But haven’t you got a shiny new set of knots to polish or something…?”

[knight]

He seemed to be doing a lot of sleeping today, but, to be honest, after all that emotionally draining stuff that had happened - Impression, Tav, and, well, everything.

So, when the Hatching Feast started, T'lar had been sleeping even more heavily than Tav had been.

Mine[/i]

T'lar groaned, pulling a pillow over his head and burrowing beneath the sleeping furs, hoping for a few more minutes of sleep.

Mine.[/i]

"Ungh..." T'lar muttered, his hand flopping off the bed, "Just a few more minutes..."

Mine! The Hatching Feast has started, and you're sleeping through it?[/i]

"H-hatching Feast?" T'lar wriggled his head from under the pillow to look at Tav uncomprehendingly, "What Hatching Feast?"

The one in honor of our Impressions.[/i] Annoyance was evident in Tav's voice, And you're losing your chance to impress that Goldrider.[/i]

T'lar frowned. "Can I sleep through it and get to know her later?" he asked, wrapping himself tighter in the furs.

Go so that she sees you - don't get to know her until later. Wait until we decide if her gold is any good at all to get to know her.[/i]

In other words, no, he couldn't wait. Oh, fine.

Huffing indignantly, T'lar got to his feet, dumping the furs on the bed and glancing at the wrinkled clothes he wore. Oh, Faranth. What a terrible impression he was going to leave. Futilely, he smoothed the wrinkles out of his pants, which looked a little bit better.

"Guess I'll just have to change..."

Well, of course you will. You look terrible, T'larMine. First impressions aren't quite everything, but they're important.[/i] Tav clearly knew his stuff, T'lar thought as he turned to the foot of his bed, where he'd dumped his Gather clothes earlier. He'd headed off to the Candidate Barracks and fetched some clothes earlier, returning with his Gather clothes as well as some everyday outfits. Obviously, he'd need his Gather clothes, which comprised of a clean white tunic, and a pair of brown pants.

Wriggling into his fancy clothes, T'lar glanced at Tav, who'd taken the opportunity to go to sleep. Tav looked adorable sleeping, and, as if he'd heard His' thoughts, the brown snorted in his sleep.

T'lar grinned, quietly slipping out of the room so that Tav would not hear him, and headed over for the Kitchens. He was hungry, and there was a feast in honor of the Hatching.

It could be worse - at least he was fashionably late, he told himself, though he didn't quite believe it, but that wasn't all that important. Quietly, he edged into the room, made aware of just how late he was by the booming conversations that swirled around him.

Idly, T'lar settled into a seat somewhat near the goldrider - he still couldn't remember her name - where he could at least see her, while still being able to survey the room.

Why hadn't Tav woken him up earlier, anyways? Now he got to be late and he hadn't even gotten to talk to anyone.

He took a sip of klah and examined the room, taking in the dynamics of it. The Goldrider, Crescentia, he thought, was being waylaid by bronzeriders. Guess it was a good thing Tav made me wait, T'lar thought with a wry smile.

The other riders were mostly being written off by T'lar. They wouldn't stand a chance against Tav when they chased the Queen, those blues and the other browns. It was the bronzes that they'd have to worry about, but they'd still have to impress those others.

Being aloof and surveying the room wasn't a great way to leave a good impression, but T'lar didn't quite feel comfortable going out to talk with people he hardly knew.
[/size]

[Edward]

And that is where she was incorrect. B'ral had greeted the two of them. It wasn't his fault that the two of them hadn't caught that. The only thing that B'ral didn't do was continue to speak with the other bronze rider. If he had something to say to him he would have done so. The most he could honestly do at the moment would have been to say congratulations, but he didn't say that to either of them, so there was no real reason to say that as of yet.

"I have no need for problems, so with that said I must let you know that you are mistaken. I did not ignore your friend. I acknowledged him, just like I did you, when I said hello. The fact that my whole sentence had not concerned both of you surely can't be an issue; or is it?"

Even the younger boy had thrown out some words to B'ral. It was more like the younger boy stating how he knew B'ral more than anything. The way he had talked about Imperioth wasn't a problem, for neither B'ral or Imperioth had a problem with how the bronze looked. All the pinkish shine could possibly do is add damage to one's pride once they lost to Imperioth. Now that the talk of dragons had been brought up, it was now time to congratulate the younger male.

"Yes, I am. I believe congratulations are in order for the two of you. I'll have my eye on you for being able to impress a bronze so young. I'm sure Atizmath is quite the dragon. You are quite something yourself."

Compliments weren't something that B'ral gave often, but they were given were deserved and the younger male deserved them. As for Crescentia... She had any and all support she needed from B'ral. Though he wouldn't admit it, he had been hooked.

"And I can't forget you. Congratulations to you as well for impressing the gold. I'm sure you and Anaelth will make quite the duo. I'll be glad to follow you."

The conversation had been left open to continue. B'ral didn't want to cause anymore trouble with the gold. He would have to alter his attitude toward others a smidge if he was to get/stay on her good side. What a drag--