Reason To Celebrate [Hatching Feast]

[Zen]

A'zael

The high table would be a tad bit crowded. A’zael surveyed the set up in the dining cavern as he thought about that. Others were just beginning to trickle in for the start of the Hatching Feast. He and Karredy would be seated there, along with the Council, he’d insisted even when they hadn’t made him feel obligated to do so. They said they would have been fine sitting with everyone else, but A’zael wanted them there. They could at least sit at the high table for all the help they’d been giving him. They deserved a position of honor just as much as he and Karredy did (probably more so than himself). He ran his hand through his hair and shook such thoughts from his mind. It wouldn’t do to dwell on his insecurities about his leadership.

He made his way to his seat at the high table and settled down into it. No, no dwelling on anything except the newly Impressed weyrlings. Two new Golds for Mavros, two Bronzes… everyone knew Mirran sent them plenty of Blues and Greens, but they were stingy with Browns and had yet to send them even one Bronze. He didn’t even WANT any Golds from them. Honestly he wasn’t sure he wanted any Bronzes either. They were too entitled in Mirran. Fath was the only Mirranese Bronze Mavros needed. But those thought might be a little petty… Mavros could use all the dragonriders it could get, maddeningly entitled attitude or not. It was surprise enough the other Weyrs had sent Talera and Aerroth to them. Apparently all the other Weyrs Goldriders were being petty, or why wouldn’t they accept another Gold? Why would they send such a valuable dragon to Mavros rather than anywhere else? Were the other Weyrs so well off they would refuse another Gold among their ranks?

His fingers tapped on the table before him as he thought about it. It was maddening, really. Maddening that the other Weyrs were doing so well when Mavros was cut off and struggling. Why was he thinking about all these negative things suddenly? He sighed and poured himself a glass of wine. He should be taking advantage of the opportunity to loosen up and have fun, instead he was making himself angry over things he could do nothing about. He took a drink as Mavros’s few Harper residents took up a song, happy and upbeat. More people were filing into the dining cavern for the Feast. He spotted S’fin and waved. Disturbed by the motion, Frisk popped his fuzzy brown head out from within His’ shirt and looked around.

Talaria

Talaria made her way into the dining cavern, unsure how much participating in the festivities she would actually be doing. She would eat, sure. This would be one occasion the cooks would break out their best supplies and she wasn’t about to pass it up. One could only eat so much fish before getting sick of it. Tonight, she was sure there would a selection of fish, but there would be much more than that and she didn’t intend to eat any fish whatsoever. She walked in shortly after the music started, and all but ignored it in favor of taking a seat and trying to decide what she would eat. She kept an eye out for Kenessia and R’zon… and A’dion.

The man had said he wanted to speak with her, but as of yet she didn’t know when that would be, nor what exactly it would be about. Tanith seemed amused at this and Talaria pushed her forcefully out of her mind. She looks up to the high table to see A’zael already there… drinking wine. He didn’t seem particularly happy, but a moment later he smiled and waved at someone. What on Pern did he have to be unhappy about? He was the sharding Weyrleader because of his idiot Bronze who was too stupid to even know when he was still too young to chase. Talaria poured her own wine and leaned against the table, brooding over her own inability to ever lead the Weyr.

Zenelle, K'zen

Zenelle had probably been about as surprised as Kyzen to find that he’d Impressed. Kyzen… he was K’zen now, he’d told her on the sands. She wasn’t ready for him to be a rider already! He was only twelve turns, not even old enough for candidacy! Well, he would be thirteen soon enough but still. He’d Impressed such a gorgeous Blue as well. She wasn’t sure what to think. She was proud, yes, he’d Impressed so young, and from the stands, but he was just too young to be a rider! When his dragon was fully grown… how old would he be? … Fourteen? And Blues started chasing earlier than that… oh what if his Blue chased when he was still so young? But he was a strong boy… perhaps he’d be able to keep his dragon grounded until he was older… and more ready for such things. At least that’s what Zenelle told herself as she waited for her son.

K’zen left Pavalenth sleeping deeply and found his mother waiting outside the barracks. The ride down from the hatching cavern had certainly been amusing. Some of the hatchlings hadn’t appreciated being carried in the larger dragons’ claws. Some Minercrafters had been working on creating a tunnel down and out from the hatching cavern but they were only about half way done at this point. It was a long way down, a lot of stone to be moved, or so he imagined. K’zen was quite fine with the current way of getting the hatchlings down. It was funny. His mother fussed with his hair before he swatted her hand away, “I’m a rider now mother… stop that.”

Zenelle sighed, “You’re a weyrling. You won’t be a full rider for over another turn. I’ll fuss all I want until then.” He gave her a mutinous look that made her laugh, “Come on, the feast is waiting for its most important guests.” She smoothed his hair one more time before he pulled away and started walking. Shaking her head she followed him.

“You didn’t see Zalmaranth fussing over her NEWLY HATCHED babies, why do you have to fuss over me when I’m so much older?” He didn’t really give her a chance to respond before he continued, however, on a much brighter note, “Pavalenth is great isn’t he?”

Zenelle was happy to move on to a more pleasant subject, “Yes, he is. Verdath already likes him. She’s proud of you for Impressing such a fine Blue. She says Blue suits you much better than any big fat old Brown or Bronze.” He laughed at that, and she smiled.

Z'kar

Z'kar had spent most of his time since arriving at the barracks, after tending to Laverauth’s needs and seeing him fast asleep, sketching the glorious wonder that was his dragon. He would be sure to make a full on painting, the best he’d ever done, of him eventually. But he remembered the few candidate lessons he’d been able to attend since being Searched. Caring for a baby dragon was very time consuming. It would be unlikely he would have the time to paint until Laverauth was older. So he settled for sketching for now and poured all the emotions he had been feeling about Impressing this beautiful Blue into his work. His hands were black from the charcoal when he finally set it aside, realizing the others were leaving to attend the Hatching Feast.

There wasn’t much more he could do with the charcoal anyway. He refused to color and shade the image of his dragon in black and white. It would not do his wondrous hide any justice. He needed color. So he settled for an outline of his sleeping beauty. He stood, looking down at his hands, and went to wash them off. How horrifying would it be to attend a feast with coal black hands? After a thorough inspection to make sure not a smudge remained, he dressed in his finest clothing and with a final fond glance at Laverauth set off for the dining cavern. He left Isa, his Green Gemglider, where she was, curled up with Laverauth.

Killos

Killos was one of the first ones to enter the dining cavern after the staff had allowed people in. Food lined the tables, quite a variety, and a huge variety for those used to Mavros’s usual menu. He looked around, spotting his brother heading to the high table. He thought about maybe talking to him but he seemed lost in his own thoughts at the moment and Killos didn’t really want to disturb him. Had he known the negativity of these thoughts he might have thought differently. Instead he found himself a good seat and surveyed the food, wondering where to start, and if anyone might care to join him.

OOC: Please remember that Weyrlings are not allowed to consume alcohol at the feast. You may of course have them breaking this rule, but they may be punished if they are caught. Everyone else is welcome to go nuts XD

[Rhush]

Danovelith was tucked into her couch back in the Weyrling barracks, happily lost to dreamland. Srunae was slowly getting used to the success of impression, to the soft, sweet mind in the back of her head and the warmth that sleeping gold brought her. Her mind was a rollercoaster of emotions - excitement, shock, confusion, love, adoration, surprise... and the strangest feeling of all.

Worth.

For so many turns she had failed to impress... had come to feel she wasn't worthy for even the smallest, weakest green... and here she had impressed gold. A stirring at the back of her mind reiterated a sleepy Danovelith's thoughts on the matter, a warm humor surrounding a pleased disposition. Oh, what it was like to be newly impressed! The new goldweyrling felt as though she was floating on air as she walked into the dining cavern and took in the scene being set for their hatching feast. Celebrating the occasion was essentially mandatory, though those who had not impressed were not obligated if they did not feel the need. Srunae had taken to avoiding hatching feasts these past few turns, but now here she was...

And she was celebrating her own impression instead of someone else's.

What an odd feeling. Elated, the beastcrafter walked into the cavern and considered the spread of food being brought out section by section and arranged on the long serving tables. At the fore of the whole affair sat the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman, surrounded by a section of much older men - presumably Lord Holders - and their wives. Was this the council she had heard about? An interesting situation, that... but then, Mavros was supposed to be considered a Weyrhold, not just a Weyr. Perhaps it made more sense than she thought initially. She would have plenty of time to learn about that later, certainly.

Thanks to Danovelith, she was going to be ingrained into politics soon enough. The beastcrafter wasn't entirely sure she liked that, but... it came with the station, didn't it? Pondering this, she caught sight of the Weyrleader waving to that other rider from the gemglider hatching - the one who had discovered them, actually. S'fin, she thought his name was? R'get had mentioned it, she recalled. Chuckling quietly, she turned and smoothed down her dress, self-consciously checking to make sure the garment reached low enough to be conservative.

She wore an off-white dress with light brown floral patterns, a zip-up little thing that showed off her legs without revealing too much - but, Srunae being Srunae, she felt quite self-conscious of her exposed thighs and the way the dress accented her... assets. Ignoring the light blush crossing her tanned face, she proceeded to the banquet, interested in a lovely filleted yellowtail - her favorite fish, and the best distraction from her clothes she could come up with for the time being.

[Hiko]

Augh. Dresses.

Mollin snorted at the idea. Let others gussy themselves up for the feast – she was in the mood for dancing, and she could never figure out the details in not getting tangled up in the length of a skirt.
So with hair pinned in small curls, a fine pair of trousers and matching boots, and her best silk blouse donned, the weyrling left her sleeping blue lifemate within the barracks and headed out.

Her first target of the evening? That morning's prey.
Mollin supposed it would be improper for her to just saunter up to the head table and flirt away – more so now because of that ridiculous abstinence law (nevermind that it actually made sense, with all those Turns of watching weyrlings back at Ista) – but she couldn't help herself. The man was just sitting there, all broody-faced and drinking.

He obviously needed better company that that glass, and if the rest of his table hadn't yet joined him~
Well, what was the harm? She approached from the man's side, and when close enough, fluttered her fingertips on his arm.
“Miss me?”

[Zen]

A'zael

A’zael was surveying the growing crowd, his gaze flicking over S’fin where he was talking to some fellow greenriders. He thought of R’get, started looking for him, planning to see if they couldn’t… couldn’t…. Shards and shells! He took another drink of his wine. He couldn’t even have a drink with his best friend because… he was still angry… and hurt quite honestly. He didn’t see R’get yet anyway. He sat back closed his eyes briefly, listening to the cheerful music in the hopes it might perk up his mood somewhat. Then he became aware of another person beside him and heard a familiar voice and looked up to see Mollin.

He grinned at her question, “Very much so.” His response was truth. She had perfect timing, how better to get him out of this mood than with good company? Though it was unfortunate that she could not drink, or partake in other things with him at the moment. “Congratulations on Impressing. A Blue…,” he grinned again. There was no secret as to what thoughts of a female riding Blue led A’zael’s mind to. He couldn’t help the fantasies that danced through his mind. “I was half hoping you’d Impress Gold. Fath won’t chase Greens and well… he certainly won’t chase Blues.” He laughed and shook his head at the thought of Fath chasing a Blue around the skies. Not that they needed a flight to bring them together.

He gave an exaggerated sigh, “It figures, something good finally happens to me and just like that is taken away again. And I didn’t even get to finish this morning….” He glanced at a few of the people who had taken to dancing and back at Mollin, “Well at least we’ll have plenty of time for that sport you were talking about.” Flirting was all she’d be able to do for months. He was glad they hadn’t had a long drawn out flirting session before moving on to the real fun. “Care to work up an appetite with me in a dance?” To be honest he didn’t really like sitting at the high table, he felt so far removed from everyone else. But it would expected that he sit there, not amongst friends at the other tables. And there he was drifting off into negativity again.

[Hiko]

Mollin shared in the man's grin. She put a hand on her hip and tilted her head, playing the obtuse weyrling.
“Oh? And what does the Weyrleader think of the lady on a blue?” Prim and proper, Mollin wasn't – and it showed as she laughed at the last word. She knew exactly what came to mind; it was the same thing one wondered when a lad Impressed green – and she had to say, she was a little put out for not Impressing something more flexible – there were far too few opportunities to enjoy the finer things with the man before her; as he had said, it wasn't as if Fath would ever be inclined to chase Daltilith.

“Faranth, can you even imagine? Me – on a gold? The Weyr would go to ruin within days. No thank you, sir. I'd much rather have a chance at some action outside the Weyr.” She considered her last words. “Or in, as the case may be – just away from having to sit on eggs with a broody queen for months on end!” Still, her flirtations would have seemed more warranted to the outside eye.
But, did Mollin really care what onlookers thought?
…
If she did, she should've stayed in the Hold.
“Sport, indeed.”

“You should know, sir,” she said, making a grabbing gesture with her hand, implying A'zael should take it and lead the way, “I always have an appetite for the things I can't have.”

[avon]

This was where he belonged, in the middle of a celebration. D'nel took a deep breath, looking around at the tables heaping with food and the crowds of people flocking in. This wasn't quite a Gather, but it would do. He missed late night parties and dancing and drinking. The drinking he still couldn't do, but he planned to make up for it by indulging in everything else the party offered. He was dressed in one of his best Gather tunics, commissioned from a talented Weaver during a stay at Fort Hold. Nadornith was asleep in his room, probably dreaming of future conquests. Strider had curled up on the dragon's back and fallen asleep as well. Seeing the two bronzes curled up together made him smile. He was definitely moving up in the world, and much more quickly than he had expected.

His stomach growled, reminding him of more present concerns. D'nel headed for the serving tables, scanning the crowd as he did so. His eyes flickered to the high table, and he chuckled to himself. Who knew, maybe he'd be up there one day not too far away. For now, though, he remained among the common folk. He looked around for Vah, but didn't see the candidate yet. Besides, it probably wouldn't be wise to be seen acting friendly to him right now, after that display at the Hatching. Still...he was a little disappointed to be left alone in his weyrling class with all the boring people. It looked like he would have to make some new friends.

His gaze landed on Srunae and he walked a little more quickly so that he could fall into step beside her. "You look lovely," he said, smiling at her. It wasn't entirely flattery, either. That dress did suit her quite well. "Would you like to sit together? Seems like we should get to know each other. I'm D'nel, by the way," he said, seeing as they hadn't been properly introduced yet.

[Rhush]

Srunae about jumped in surprise as another Weyrling appeared beside her, catching her off guard with his compliment. She blinked almost in a manner of sheepishness up at the taller young man, the blush she was trying to ignore deepening. "Oh, uh..." He wanted to get to know her? And wanted to sit together too? Wha-- her brain did an interesting flip flop before she at last nodded her head to the young man."It's nice to meet you, D'nel." She began, grinning sheepishly. "I'm... Srunae." She seemed to flounder a bit before eyeing the yellowtail in an effort to give herself some momentary reprieve.

"And... sure, we can sit together. I was a little worried I would be eating alone." At a party. Full of people. Like a total... well. Like Liesol, now that the young woman thought about it. But she wasn't as shy as Lie! Danovelith would have face-palmed at her rider's lack of lady-like charm, but thankfully the dragoness was asleep, busily dreaming away the evening while Srunae did her best to try and keep it together. She glanced over at A'zael and his... courtier, a girl that had impressed blue... and looked vaguely familiar. Hmmm... as Srunae thought, she went about filling up a tray of food, glancing at D'nel. "So um... you impressed that handsome bronze, didn't you? He's really very lovely." And dark, and a touch scary, and...

Well. At least his rider didn't seem quite like that. Absently, Srunae wondered if all the other weyrlings would eventually come over and talk to her too. Maybe. Perhaps. She doubted it. Subconsciously, she fidgeted a bit in her dress before picking up the tray of food and awaiting D'nel. "Where would you like to sit?" She asked, gazing around the room for open locations - which, at this point, were utterly everywhere.

[Deleted]

The time between the Hatching and the feast was…well it had been interesting to say the very least. B’zor had found himself in awe all over again of things that he’d long since taken for granted now that he was seeing them through the eyes of a wonderstruck little brown hatchling. Litniroth had grown rather sleepy on their way to the barrack where they would spend the next two years of their life and Bel had to resort to carrying the brown; thankfully he wasn’t overly large, just awkwardly lanky as though someone had stretched him out. Once the weyrling was settled on his couch in the barracks room that was to be theirs, B’zor had returned to the Hatching sands after a bit of pleading with one of the older riders and he’d collected a few shards from Litniroth’s shell as well as a few from the Golden eggs which had so fascinated the newly hatched brown.

Since the hatching, B’zor had gathered up Fluffy—who had been rather reluctant to stay behind with the strange new addition to their little family unit—and the quickly growing Gemglider was now curled up in a pouch that hung from the new rider’s belt. Poking his black furry head out of the pouch, his sapphire glinting in the light, he silently watched the gathering of the shells and then disappeared once more when B’zor nimbly mounted the dragon that had brought him and the two returned to the barracks. Later that night would be the Feast and for the first and last time, Belizor would attend as a newly bonded Weyrling. It really was quite a rush. Things were changing quickly and it was going to take a while for the young man’s mind to catch up.

When he returned to his room, Litniroth was still asleep though the brown had stretched out and was now sprawled on the couch that would house him until he could fly his head and shoulder hanging off the edge in a most comical fashion. Smiling at the sight, Bel dug through his belongings until he found what he was looking for; a project he’d started shortly after Karredy had “returned from the dead”.

There were just a few finishing touches before he could oil it and as the day progressed this was what he worked on, as well as a few simpler projects for each of the Weyrlings. It had started as just a simple thing for himself; turning the rose-patterned part of Litniroth’s shell into a pendant after carefully shaping the edges with a file and attaching it to a leather cord. By the time people began gathering for the Feast, his calloused fingers were a little sore and scraped and he possessed a pendant made from a shard from each egg that had hatched. By the grace of Faranth he’d managed to remember which dragon had hatched from more than half the eggs, but he figured he could sort that out later. Now that the Impression gifts and the gift for the Weyrwoman were finished, it was time to get himself ready.

Of course, there was only so much classing up a Woodcrafter born and raised could do and in the end it amounted to him wearing a tunic that wasn’t stained—his best tunic in fact—and combing his hair. He still smelled of redwood and varnishing oil but that was likely a smell that would forever linger around the man so it was not even noticeable to him. Hooking the pendants to his belt, he wrapped the gift for Karredy in a cloth and then made his way to through the tunnels until he reached the festivities. Fluffy poked his head out and upon seeing a large gathering of people, disappeared into the cozy leather pouch once more with a tremulous chip.

On the lookout for Karredy, it was another Goldrider entirely that Bel spotted first. Veering through the steadily growing crowd, the new Brownrider tucked the Weyrwoman’s present under his arm and fiddled with the pendants hooked to his belt until he came up with one that had come from the smaller, paler of the two Golden eggs, though that was really quite a relative term as both had been brilliant. Next he fished out the fragment from the Dark Egg and approached Srunae and D’nel with his characteristic friendly smile in place. “Hello there, I have something for the both of you…if you want it that is. It was just an idea I had…I’m Belizor by the way.” It hadn’t really even sunk in enough for him to correct himself right away. That would come in time and with Litniroth reminding him a hundred times daily. Lifting the hand in which he held the makeshift pendants he grinned then proceeded to state what was rather obvious. “They’re shards from your dragons’ eggs.”

[Deleted]

Kenessia, Melana, Angela, and A'dion

A'dion, after successfully making sure Zevranth was asleep in the weyr (not that he would be for long, he was sure), made his way toward the Feasting Area. He wore a brown vest over a white Renaissance-type shirt with billowed sleeves, leather breeches, and brown leather boots. His hair was slicked back with a few wayward curls, and his trademark earring was placed into his ear.

The looks from many of the drudges he was getting let him know that, yes, he was looking as fine as a summer wine.

You're an idiot.

Can't you ever stay asleep, or is your brain always on the go like a sharding Searchrider's? The dragon's rumble of laughter went unheard from his weyr. Anyway, don't bother me. I'm busy working my magic.

Maybe go speak to Tanith's like you wanted to?

Oh ... I was hoping to avoid that.

Then why did you ask her to meet you? A'dion gave the general direction of his weyr a look, All right, I won't bother you anymore. Stay in touch though; I may need to save you from making a fool of yourself. Again.

And they call -me- an ass.. The bronzer shook his head and, upon seeing Talaria, lived up to his nature as someone who made it a point to troll the holder of his heart. Making his way up to her, he'd brush his fingers against the back of her neck, whispering against her ear,

"My dear, you should be mingling, not decorating the wall with your beauty." He was stalling, he knew, but damnit. Yelling out 'I love you!' in front of all these people could spook even the hardest of leaders.

---

"Oh R'zon, for goodness' sake. Leviath and Nimiath will be fine. You have got to have some fun, love. Please, for me?" Kenessia wore a seafoam green gown with lighter green flowers and vines all over the skirt and sleeves, and a diamond-shaped pattern on the bodice. Her hair was done up nicely, curled with hot iron and framing her heart-shaped face. Her arm wrapped around R'zon's as she looked up to him, giving him the puppy eyes he hadn't been able to resist from day one.

Nimiath would have rolled her eyes from where she lay... if she hadn't been rubbing her nose against Leviath's cheek, crooning lightly. She'd found she liked the taciturn brown, as both his words and thoughts were quiet and soft, thus she didn't have to exhaust herself with keeping people out.

Kes felt her dragon's attraction, and nuzzled her chin against R'zon's shoulder,

"Please?" She asked again. R'zon hadn't wanted to attend the hatching feast to begin with, but she'd reminded him that Kyzen-- No, it was 'K'zen' now -- would be there, and it'd be rude not to congratulate the young boy. And besides, Kes had heard something on the sands earlier that had been bugging her.

One of the candidates had mentioned being from Southern, but she wasn't much younger than Kes herself. Curiousity had piqued, and she wanted to know if, maybe, she knew the girl from somewhere. Either way, she wanted to congratulate all the new weyrlings.

Especially Srunae and Melana, both her candidates and both of whom she was very proud of.

---

Angela, social butterfly that she was, had quickly integrated herself in with the cooks and made several friends in the short time she'd been here. Her dress was deep green with blue patterns artfully slipped into the weaving. It was a dress the crechewoman had made for her long ago, and she'd kept it clean and safe for each of the gathers and hatching feasts she'd attended.

Now, she was happily making conversation with several other dragonriders and Weyrfolk, her laughter ringing out when one or the other would make an amusing joke. She even chuckled at the un-funny ones, simply to be polite. Briefly excusing herself, she'd go on a hunt for her Weyrmate. She'd gotten a message stating that she'd be sharing the Weyr with a ... D'rave and Blue Oxyoth.

Vixi, lovely, can you pinpoint D'rave for me? For a long while, the green-blue didn't answer, and Angela poked her thoughts onto her dragon's ... finding her flirting it up with several blues and browns. Angela prodded the dragon's mind, and Vixianth became quite sheepish,

I am sorry, Angiemine. Uhm, your D'rave is .... I'm not sure he's even at the feast yet, dear. I'm sorry. Angela pouted. She wanted to at least meet her new Weyrmate before going to the weyr; if she didn't meet him, she couldn't warn him that Vixianth enjoyed cuddling and not to be alarmed if he woke one day and found her gone.

Sighing with regret, she turned to go back to socialising, earning many compliments from riders both male and female.

---

I don't want you to go. You should be here; with me. Taking care of me. I can take care of myself, but you should still be close by.

Melana finished putting on her gown, a plain golden gown with white sleeve-trim, with the neck- and shoulder-lines trimmed with faux pearls. Two strings of faux pearls rested in her hair, as well as pearl earrings on her ears.

Sula, I have to go. It is required; besides, I'm hungry too. You've eaten already. And you should really be sleeping. The gold tilted her head up regally, full frame resting upon the couch in the Weyrling Barrack,

I could do ... very well without sleeping ... thank you. The dragonet actually yawned, a little cub-like sound, and snorted, Pardon me. Melana went and rubbed the dragon's chin, kissing her nose,

"You are much better than the others, yes. But you still need your rest. I've heard that your father likes to get up with the sun, so you need your rest."

He is a fool, but Danovelith likes him. For some reason. The mention of the other dragon brought the other woman to the forefront of the Goldrider's mind. Srunae could be a problem later; she seemed like the goody-two-shoes kind of person who would nark on Melana if she felt that Melana's doings were 'destructive'. Sularenth would have stuck her tongue out if she were anyone else,

Danovelith's will not bother us. I will see to it. For now, though .. I believe I will rest. It has been a trying day. We will begin fixing the Weyr tomorrow. Melana rubbed her eyeridges until she fell asleep, then headed for the feast. At first, she was hit with a wave of cold feet ... before a small bolster of Sula's conscious hit her. Squaring her shoulders, and tilting her chin up, she seemed to glide regally into the feast, like she owned the place. With Sula at her side, she probably already did. Greeting those who greeted her with good manners, she analyzed everyone she came to.

Mainly the bronzeriders. They would be her ticket into power, when Sularenth flew. And Sularenth would only pick the strongest bronze in the Weyr for her mate, and dare anyone else to try their luck. Idly she picked up a cup of klah, sipping at it as she sat upon a chair as if it were a throne.

[Deleted]

Following the general pattern of how things had gone since she arrived, Lynara arrived fashionably late. Perhaps it was the lacing of the black over-corset, which cinched her already slender form tighter, actually giving her some modest curves, rather than her usual slim-wedged shape. The rest of her dress was a simple affair in green, and though it wasn't revealing a terrible amount of skin, it showed most every contour. Using a clever mix of berries and a small brush, she'd carefully stained her lips a very dusky red, creating a great deal of contrast to her lightly-hued eyes.

Certainly, there were many choices, but perhaps it was not her necessity towards the finer things that lead her to getting a cup of water and some bread. It would do, if nothing else, than a starter. It'd been a long day, her stomache tried as her nerves had been tested, she'd been rushed, and her fears fed, and then finally allayed. Yes, bread and water would do.

She scanned the room, curious as to whom she recognized. She hadn't immediately spotted the two who'd been tied into an altercation, but that hardly surprised her, but she did look anyhow. She'd spotted her friend, the blue rider moving with some intent, so she hadn't exactly moved to interrupt. That left her with meeting new people or being a wallflower. Either suited her just as well, but being a wall-flower would be more than a little boring.

She moved to mingle, wandering rather near someone who had just alluded to a Southern Candidate, in her simple dress, with her simple hors d'ouevres choice....

[Deleted]

Karredy
You look fine, Zalmaranth assured her for the fifth (sixth?) time after Karredy changed into a more formal Hatching Feast gown. If other people act strangely, it's their problem. You're the Weyrwoman.

Well... She picked at a lock of hair. With her dress so formal, she'd decided to keep her hair subdued; a plain pearl headband, with two side-locks bound with gold ribbon framing her face.

The high table was rather crowded, but she made it to her seat next to A'zael without a problem. How were the weyrlings doing? She wondered. It was much easier to think about that than the Hatching Feast--well, not EASIER, just simpler. The majority of them had been flown down to the Weyrling Barracks much more easily than they had with Zalmaranth's own Hatching--in part because a good deal of the riders had already anticipated it.

They're fine, Zalmaranth told her irritably. Most of them are sleeping. And none of them are causing trouble.

Well, so much for distractions. She took a sip of wine instead.

[madb]

D'rave

Someone searches for you, though I am not sure why, Oxyoth informed him.

D'rave, who had been glancing over at himself in the mirror like a peacock for a while--he was not normally so interested in fashion, but they did say women liked a well dressed man--paused. He wondered how late he was.

Late Oxyoth responded drearily.

"Shards! Why didn't you warn me!" D'rave ran off to grab his boots, and stumbled head-first over in his rush. He winced, but got gamely back up, and started shoving them on his feet.

It was important? I did not know.

"Jays, Oxy..." D'rave rested his head in the palm of his hand, and then jumped up. It was alright! He would be arriving fashionably late! Everything would be a-okay!

I should've learned long ago not to rely on you for things like this, D'rave told Oxyoth, as he headed outside. There was no real malice in the tone, simply a bit of self-deprecating humor for the both of them. Oxyoth for being as out-of-touch with things as always--but he was a dragon, what did D'rave expect?--and D'rave, himself, for assuming that the blue even cared about hatching feasts or if his rider would 'get lucky' or not.

D'rave arrived at the feast, and took a deep breath, drinking in the colors and the sounds. The joy was nearly palpable, as it was for any hatching feast--the promise of new beginnings, of a fresh tomorrow. Just what Mavros needed!

Of course he would have to congratulate Liesol and encourage Vahguel, when he saw them, but he couldn't through the crowd.

He strained his neck upwards. Who had been looking for him? Was it a girl? Hopefully it was a girl. Oh please, please let it be a girl. Probably she was looking for him to say how impressed she was with his Searchrider abilities, if he knew how girls were... which he didn't.

"Excuse me," he pulled somebody aside. "Have you seen a gir--er, somebody that was looking for me?" He gestured to himself. "D'rave, the Searchrider? Might've been asking for a drink of tall, dark, and handsome? Maybe? Ringing any bells?"

The man scoffed, and wrenched his arm back, turning away.

D'rave, not to be deterred, wormed his way through the crowds, trying to dislodge the thought in the back of his mind that she was a he and he was an ugly guy looking for a grudge to settle.

Vahguel

Vahguel slipped in, late. Keeping a low profile was sort of on his list of top priorities for the moment. He'd toyed with the idea of not appearing at all, before deciding that wouldn't play up with the idea of the candidate wanting to make amends. No, he would simply have to do all that was expected of him.

Including, of course, congratulating those that had Impressed. Vahguel grabbed a glass of wine and took a rather large sip. Perhaps not... quite yet... he couldn't exactly stomach it.

Well. At least that brutish girl hadn't Impressed. Vah's hand went up to his cheek, where a bruise was starting to form.

It hadn't hurt, not really. He'd certainly been dealt worse blows. But the shock of it...

Well, he could beat himself up over how foolish he'd been later.

Of course, there were other reasons he had decided to come to the feast tonight. He simply had to find out that... accursed bronzerider's name, the one who had the gall to lift him by dragon teeth as though he were some sort of herdbeast! Yes, a feast would be ideal for asking questions about people.

And as for not drawing attention to himself... well, Vah was clever. He would go nowhere near anyone who had any antagonistic eyes glaring in his direction, and would stick with groups, if at all possible.

A pity, it was too bad that he could not talk with D'nel. But that would be bad for his (friend? ally? whatever), and for Vah besides. No, better one of them remained unstained by this--and there was no self-sacrificing aspect in that at all, for the ally he'd only known a little while. It simply was factual; Vahguel would get nothing from D'nel, if D'nel was also dragged into a pit of poor approval. Best that they did not talk to each other in the open for a while yet.

Of course, Vahguel had to make sure their alliance was still... appetizing for D'nel, before he lost the connection with a bronzerider and future leader of Mavros. Regardless as to whether he stayed on as a candidate or slipped into the night, that kind of connection would be priceless. Best to keep the connection solid.

Vahguel sipped his wine, and then glanced down. Huh. He'd finished it already, had he? Must have been in a shoddier mood than he'd thought...

Oh well. He placed the glass down and headed off to twine his way through the crowd like a tunnelsnake, and find some unsuspecting fellow to corner and question.

R'get
'Avoid Azzy' seemed to be the mantra of the day. Or the month.

R'get almost didn't go to the feast, but that would've been a wherrybrained idea to top all his wherrybrained ideas. And he'd had a lot of wherrybrained ideas in his life. Point was, avoiding someone in a party wasn't all that hard--especially when they seemed to be taking even greater pains to avoid you.

He'd get used to it, one day, that Azzy wasn't going to track him down and drink with him and they'd oogle at all the pretty women and handsome men together, respectively. No, Azzy had responsibilities now. He'd grown up and left his best buddy behind, somewhere along the way.

So R'get decided to go to the feast because, why not, at least there were copious amounts of alcohol.

You moan and drag your heels like a green before a Flight and it is unbecoming, Pallath said, not mincing words, go to the feast and enjoy yourself, I do not like you sour.

"I do not like me sour," R'get admitted. This was almost worse than when... well, it was almost the worst month he'd had in his life.

Go. Track down your friends and leave my mind in peace.

"You're kicking me out?" R'get said, amused. "Like a disappointed weyrmate?"

It is for your own good, Palla informed him, though her headtone was tinged with the slightest amount of humor. She prodded him gently, and hoped that he would leave now and find human-shaped persons that were far more good at comforting than she would ever be.

To tell the truth, the whole situation confused Pallath. She was not a Fath, but human emotions were not her forte. It didn't seem like such a big deal to her, but, she was just that kind of dragon. Practicality and responsibility came before friendship and feelings.

"Alright, I'm off to the feast. You win!" R'get said. He shook his head and laughed, wondering again about how lucky he'd been that she'd Impressed him. Hatching days did that to you...

"I'll see you later, Palla-love."

Pallath snorted. Goodbye for now, sour-mine. Do not moan so when you return to me.

Yeah, yeah.

As he stepped outside, Lady berated him and curled around his neck, as if to remind him that she was here. R'get laughed and stroked her beautiful golden head. She made an appreciative sound and he smiled down at her.

"You want to enjoy the feast and be shown off, don't you, little Lady?" he murmured.

She made a sound in agreement.

"Alright then, lets go enjoy this thing!"

Liesol and R'get

"Hawey," Liesol said, gently, for what felt like the hundredth time. Even her patience was beginning to wear out. "I have to leave... and you have to sleep..."

I'm not tired! Hawedith informed her cheerfully, and indeed she was bouncing about. Stay with me, talk with me some more, I still have questions. Liesolmine I do not want you to leave, please?

Liesol sighed. Then she smiled at her wonderful, sweet, amazing new friend.

"I'll come back for you later, sweet. And if you keep awake until then we'll talk and talk until you're satisfied. Okay?"

Hawedith nodded vigorously. If you promise.

"I promise," she laughed, and reached down to hug Hawedith. The dragon grunted but accepted the gesture and sent a wave of easy affection back. Liesol kissed her on the head and then stood up in a rush of skirts.

She walked out, trying to keep her heart from beating at the dangerous speed that it was working its way up to. Hawey simply had not listened to reason! Being a weyrling was hard and it had only been the first few hours! Hawey was sweet... but she had far too much energy. Liesol felt dizzy and tired and her hair was probably sticking out all over the place... oh, this was not how she wanted to go to a feast.

She loved dresses and dressing up, even more so! It delighted the feminine soul of her to swish around in a beautiful skirt and, even if she was not fond of crowds, Liesol did not mind it so much when she could slip away, invisible in the masses.

And eat good food. Liesol giggled, and then began to rush a little faster, though she was careful not to trip up in her skirts.

Upon her way there she nearly ran into a man headed in the same direction. Liesol recognized him as he turned around.

"T-the greenrider that picked me up!" She said, pointing at him.

R'get blinked. "Very... accurate of you," he said. Then he smiled. "I saw you Impressed. A green, wasn't it?" She nodded up and down, but hid behind her hair so that he could not see she was blushing. He reached out and ruffled her hair. "Good on you," he said kindly, "greens are the best of the bunch, and I'll be proud to see you graduate and join our ranks."

She glanced up shyly through her curtain of hair. "R-really?"

R'get grinned. "Of course, really!" he said, "And might I say, you look very elegant in that dress?" He held out a hand. "Would you do me the honor of escorting me to the feast, little Lady?"

Lady peeked up curiously from his shoulder, hearing her name not being addressed to her. If she could frown, she would be doing so at Liesol right at this moment.

Liesol, meanwhile, gave a shy curtsy and took his hand. R'get smiled down at her and they went in together. She clung so tightly to his arm at the sight of all those people that Rau flinched, though he was careful not to let it show.

He glanced around and spotted Killos.

"Will you be alright on your own?" he asked Liesol. She nodded up at him and he gave her hand a squeeze, running off to go say hey to the first familiar face he saw.

"o-oh and thank you for the--" Liesiol started, but he'd already left. She wandered off, aiming for the food.

R'get approached Killos. "Hey, how are you doing kid?" He asked, knowing far too well how bad it felt to be left out there without Impressing a dragon. Hatching feasts were the worse, man. It was like the entire weyr was celebrating just to pour salt into the open wound. He'd do his best to lift Killos's mood... after all, he hand't gripped his hand like he should've.

[avon]

D'nel- tag Srunae and B'zor

"Yes, I did. Thank you." D'nel grinned wolfishly, beaming with pride at the mere mention of his dragon. He couldn't help it. Despite claiming otherwise, he was really just as lovestruck about his dragon as the other weyrlings were. At her question, he looked around the room, wondering which table would be best. "Hmm. Let's go there." He pointed at a table that was front and center, and not too far from the high table. There was no sense in hiding away in a corner, after all. They were the future leaders of Mavros.

Before they could make it there, however, that dull brown weyrling interrupted. The other weyrling was dressed so plainly, it was almost an offense. D'nel didn't trust people who didn't make the most of occasions like this. Still, he put a friendly smile on his face. At the moment, it would be best to play nice with his classmates.

Then, the smile turned into a genuine one, and his eyes lit up. "Ah. It's lovely. Of course I want it." He recognized his dragon's shell immediately. His estimation of B'zor rose a little. At least the man could make nice things. And he seemed like the type of person who wouldn't even expect a favor in return. "Would you care to join us? Look, there's Melana. We should go sit with her." It didn't take a clever mind to realize that B'zor was fond of her, and maybe if he joined with the Brownrider he could get a chance to chat with both gold weyrlings tonight.


Amaril- tag Karredy

The Greenrider was dressed in one of her finest dresses, an elaborate affair with a full skirt, lace, and pearls. It was topped off with a gold headdress. It seemed that she was dressed a bit differently from the younger folks in the crowd, but she didn't care. In Mirran, she had been a lowly Greenrider and not expected to be well dressed. Here, she had the freedom to pull out all the stops.

Without hesitation, she approached the high table. She was partly responsible for teaching these new weyrlings, so why should she not join the Weyrleaders? It would give her a good vantage point from which to view the youngsters.

She glanced at A'zael and Mollin, her lips pursing slightly with disapproval. She wasn't sure what that blue weyrling was doing here. With a small shrug, she turned to Karredy instead. "Weyrwoman, may I sit here?" she asked. She would wait for permission before taking a seat, but her commanding posture made it clear that she didn't really expect Karredy to say no. Yes, the woman was a Goldrider, but she was so...young. It was hard to imagine her in a position of authority.

Vadarat- open

The sea rat was a little unsteady on his legs as he walked through the hall, not because he'd already had too much wine, but because he'd just arrived from a long voyage at sea that morning and he was still unused to solid ground.

He had managed to get an invite to the Hatching, along with some other people from the ship. That was likely because they had provided some of the supplies for the feast, stolen from a ship that had been carrying crops from Ista to the north. The Hatching had been exciting, although the death of the little green was terribly sad. And the fight was a bit odd...drama made things fun, though.

He was on his way to the food table, but then the world wobbled again and he collided with someone. "Oops, sorry!"

[Deleted]

Karredy - tag Amaril
(Karredy's dress.)

"Weyrwoman, may I sit here?"

Karredy turned and noticed one of the new transfer riders standing next to her. An older greenrider; what was her name? Amaril, that was it--one of the new assistant Weyrlingmasters. The Weyrwoman still been busy sorting things out, but she did try to remember everyone's names. (It was easier than remembering how she'd woken up in her coffin.) "Er--yes, go ahead."

Well, that wasn't too dignified. But it WAS her queen responsible for the Hatching Feast, so would there be a bit of leeway? She tried not to purse her lips and took a sip of wine. "Amaril, was it? How have you been finding Mavros?"

-----
C'mor - tag Vadarat
(C'mor's outfit.)
C'mor was itchy. What kind of wool was his tunic made out of? Past his undershirt, the sleeves kept rubbing at his shoulders, and it felt worse than summer in Mirran. At least summer he could go inside, but now he was stuck at the feast until he could go back to the Barracks.

Why don't you like it? Came Zardilath, jolting C'mor into the outside world. And that he was out of wine. The Weyrlingmaster had advised against getting drunk, of course, but it was only Morry's second cup and... but what if the wine was actually really strong and he only THOUGHT it wasn't too much until he ended up hungover on his first day into weyrling training? Oh sweet Faranth, STOP DRINKING NOW.

Zardilath? I thought you were asleep. He got up to refill his goblet with water. Typically, it was all the way on the other side of the table and he now had to deal with the first few tipsy feast-goers staggering around to get at the wineskins on HIS side.

I was, but you woke me up. And the others are awake, too... They're all talking. The blue trailed off with a mental sigh, and C'mor could almost feel the blue curling up morosely. (He wondered if the nerve-wracking flight down from Mount Chariath wasn't responsible for Zardilath's especially low mood, as well.) If you're so itchy, maybe you should--

"Oops, sorry!"

"Gah!" Morry sloshed about a third of his goblet onto his tunic, and promptly heard a few groans amidst spurts of laughter.

"Half a candlemark! Who called it?"

"But he didn't get the person who bumped him, so you can't get ALL--"

Oh, shard it. "Um. A-are you...? Don't worry, it was just water," he told the young man.