Hatching Feast (open!)

[Invisible]

If there was one thing Genet had always prided herself on it was her ability to hold her own in any social situation. Oh, she didn’t always behave the way she should, but she was never anxious around other people. There was always, at least in her mind, a firm certainty that she was right. The wasted time on the sands, or at least that’s how she saw it, and now the worry the Weyrwoman had overheard her had Genet acting in a way that left her annoyed with her own self. Doing her best to get her feet back under her she took the napkin with a gracious smile and nod. “Thank you. I’m not normally such a klutz.” Please don’t have heard me. Don’t send me home.

Ducking her head to check and be sure she got the juice mopped up she then held out the napkin to Aderes before thinking maybe she wouldn’t want it back. So, somewhat awkwardly, she set it on the table near where the Weyrwoman might get it should she want it. “It’s like someone died,” she agrees with a rueful grin. “I mean, I guess I’m sad and all. I’m supposed to be, right? But it’s no big deal. I never expected it to turn out differently. I guess I never thought far enough ahead to being labeled a failed candidate and have so many people trying to feel sorry for me if I let them. I don’t want people to pity me. It’s no big deal, but the one person I said that too looked at me like I was weird.” There’s a momentary pause here before she has to smile and add, “Not that I am not used to that I guess.”

There was a question out there about her brother, but Genet had to speak about herself first. Her being the most important and all. Still, she did know she was asked and she did still worry about what he was off doing. “Yes! He’s my younger brother. I mean, we’re twins, but I know I was born before him. No matter what he says. Do you know him?”

[Omnia Munda]

"Humble already," laughed J'fel, and found a hand free to slap the weyrling's shoulder another time. "Well, good luck to you both, then. Now go get all the congratulations you're due, hey?"

J'fel permitted his agile brows a swift twitch of conspiracy and grinned. "This is your night and if I got my bets right, your last night for a while."

[Invisible]

“Humble as always,” K’mar said with every ounce of seriousness he could muster. Which was a whole lot since he rarely was anything but serious. “Thank you again for your words, sir. Enjoy your evening.” K’mar was left to wander off then in search of a quiet place to eat whatever it was he was still carrying about. Along the way he ran into someone else who wanted to congratulate him and so on and so forth until he finally made it to a table and could flop down off his feet and eat.

[anhydrous]

(I'dalyn)

It wasn’t difficult to find the Weyr’s celebration that night. True, the hatching feast was always in the same place, but music and revelry could be heard echoing down many of the hallways of the lower caverns.

The feast was well under-way by the time I’dalyn arrived, having made a stop by the barracks to help settle in the weyrlings. He hadn’t really planned to make an appearance at the hatching feast, but Daisulyth had grown tired of pouting and gone to sleep. If he wanted to have some wine and a few laughs, now would be the time to do it without the brown’s interruptions. Besides, it might be in poor taste for him to skip the festivities. His presence as the weyrlingmaster would be expected.

I’dalyn wandered past the food to have a good look at the selection of wines, the sheer range of provided liquors pretty astounding. He took a glass of a hearty red, glancing at the rest of the assortment with the smallest sigh of regret. The brownrider would not become acquainted with as many of these as he wanted. It was a pity that he should have to keep his wits about him.

Picking past groups of weyrfolk, I'dalyn meandered around the cavern with a carefully content expression. Frequently he would raise his glass to his mouth, his gaze latching onto a familiar face as he recognized one of the newly impressed weyrlings.. his newly impressed weyrlings.

[Tabula Rasa]

"You're supposed to feel a little bit bad," Aderes agreed. "I think everyone gets their hopes up, but when there's a single egg and twenty young women waiting for it, it's hardly some great failure if you're left on the sands."

The weyrwoman considered her plate again, but settled her hands in her lap, instead. "Twins?" she laughed. "Oh my, that must have been something to see. Well, I know of him. I know the name and look of all the Weyr's riders. But, I don't know much more about your brother than that his sister was standing for Deoneth." Lips lifting in a small smile she added, "What should I know about him, would you say?"

[Invisible]

“Maybe if she hadn’t taken so long to hatch I would have felt worse, but really,” Genet says with a tiny grimace. “It was so dull by the end I just wanted to go.” Tipping her head to the side she gave that a moment’s considering before grinning. “Which is probably why she didn’t want me anyway. I’m happy enough the way things turned out.” With no immediate scolding for what she said the former candidate relaxed some and was able to converse without too much internal stress. Of course, the weyrwoman could just be lulling her into a false sense of security, but with any luck by the time she said anything Genet could have worked a way out of any mess that might come.

“G’tet? Oh, there’s lots to know about him!” his sister said with a laugh. “Most of it likely nothing you need to know of, I guess, but he’s a great guy.” Genet reached for her juice and behind her cup said, “Even if he wasn’t here like he promised and swore he would be.” Once her cup was back down on the table she tipped her head over again to think of what to say. “Well, he’s awful dependable. Even when we were kids and up to no good. Not that we were troublemakers! Umm. You know, more than anyone else. It’s just we did it together so it seemed like more. He’s a super nice guy and he’s very smart. It’s not always obvious, but he is.” She considered and then added, for fear she'd made him sound dull, "And he's a lot of fun when he lets himself be!" There, that was better.

[Selvagem]

C'cao
The greenrider was in a fey mood.

Two glasses of wine did little to drown it, and the only thing he received from the mellow red liquid was a headache that threatened to spill over on the edge of his mind. With a hiss that might have been sigh or snarl, Opheriath's rider set his empty glass on one of the tables and meandered off to find some food to settle his stomach. From the ledge of his weyr he felt his dragon's concern, growing stronger by the minute and beginning to press on him like a shroud. At length the image of a Caminar girl trundling away in a wagon drawn by a pied draftbeast sparked in his mind, and he heard Opheriath's whistle in his mnd.

Shall I?

The words were accompanied by the image of the green chasing down the wagon and hauling Selvagem back bodily. C'cao dashed the image to pieces, and sent back with a moody touch of mind.

No, Ria, don't. I'll be fine.

He forced himself to smile, to drive the neccessity of a good mood onto himself for his green's wake, and idly picked up a pickled fruit. The sour taste did much to clear his mind. With a smile and a nod to various riders from his Wing, he made his way through the crowd, and quite by chance found himself beside a brownrider who was barely 3 turns his senior, but outranked him by far. Pausing thoughtfully, C'cao glanced back at I'dalyn, and decided that he could do no harm in making conversation.

"My duty to you, Weyrlingmaster. How fare the weyrlings?"

[anhydrous]

(I'dalyn)

I’dalyn inclined his head towards the familiar greenrider in greeting, quickly raising his glass to his mouth to hide a spry smile. That title still had an amusing ring to it, perhaps because he had only actually had weyrlings to be in charge of for a few hours. “Good to see you out and about, C’cao,” he remarked amiably. It felt strange to be addressed so formally by the greenrider, considering that they had shared the unpleasantries of weyrlinghood together. Daisulyth and Opheriath had been in the same clutch, if his memory served him.

Taking another long drink of wine, I’dalyn once again smiled into his cup. “The weyrlings are all healthy and well. Pelegaoth's clutches never disappoint, but then, we’d both know that first hand.” Languidly reaching for a nearby chair, I’dalyn settled himself and motioned for C’cao to do the same. He had been standing since the hatching, the dull ache in his insteps pointedly reminding him of that fact.

Gesturing in the direction of the new weyrwoman faintly with his glass, I’dalyn’s tone shifted slightly. “So far it seems that the little queen has made a good choice,” he observed with a quirked eyebrow. “She’s considerably more level-headed than others in her class.” His words floated over the rim of his cup, the full wine prickling against his tongue. “I don’t doubt that they’re going to be a handful,” he sighed, leaning back slightly in his chair and placing his now nearly empty glass on the table.

[Tabula Rasa]

"As I'm sure any mother will tell you, one cannot force these things," Aderes said around a soft smile. "One must take a philosophical view." She ate in small and dainty pieces as Genet spoke, pale gaze on the girl and her words met with the occasional nod or encouraging noise. "He sounds like quite a shining example. We're very lucky to have him." Lifting her head, Aderes glanced around the crush of the room before turning back to her tablemate. "Is he off fetching food for you, or did you prefer to enjoy the celebration on your own?"

[Selvagem]

C'cao
The greenrider nodded at the other man's acknowledgement of his presence, still picking moodily at the pickled fruit in his hand with small bites. Indeed, his Opheriath had been in the same clutch as the brownrider's Daisulyth, and I'dalyn had been his weyrling classmate back in those days. But here he was now, still a greenrider, while his weyrling mate was a Weyrlingmaster. C'cao was not a man who cared over much about rank or status - he just happened to be in a particularly prickly mood tonight, and everything great or small irked him.

“The weyrlings are all healthy and well. Pelegaoth's clutches never disappoint, but then, we’d both know that first hand.”

C'cao smiled, his mood beginning to lighten at the brownrider's conversational tone, "That's good to hear. I figure...there's always a first time for everything, but that time isn't now. "

He bowed his head gracefully in thanks as I'dalyn invited him to sit, and obliged by dragging over a chair to settle in beside him. He glanced, oblidgingly again, as the Weyrlingmaster gestured toward the junior weyrwoman, and allowed a smile to grace his features. That could have been Selvagem, his mind told him, and the smile became thin and wry.

"Oh, I don't doubt it either," C'cao turned back to I'dalyn, "I saw how some of those bronzes Impressed at the Hatching. You have strong characters in this bunch. Not to mention the junior weyrwoman."

The greenrider leaned aside and took a glass of apple juice from the tray of a passing drudge with a polite smile. No more wine for him tonight, he didn't want a hangover tommorrow. Sipping slowly, he let his eyes pick out the weyrlings meandering the crowd.

"I should congratulate you," he said at length, "They may be a handful, but they are a strong and healthy bunch. They'll do you proud."

He left the implications unspoken. I'dalyn's father had been hard on all his weyrlings, not only his son. And he had, at times, saved his more special "favours" for the boy who rode the mute green dragon. This would be a good chance for his old weyrling classmate to prove he was every inch as good as his father - minus the harsh tactics the older man had employed. He glanced over at him.

"And I'll help you make them do you proud too," he spoke lyrically, only half in jest, "If you wish."

[rizu]

He had been in the room with his dragon as the celebration had gone underway, Kithath's hide shining in the dim candle light in a simple tell-tale sign of a recent oiling. Curled in his own sleeping place the blue watched His, currently sitting his his bed, legs folded, while he played a tune with his flute. The sound was charming, alluring, sweet and inviting -- Kithath couldn't help but trying to hum along with it.

Mine, what is that thing that makes such pretty noise?
{Huh? This? It's called a flute, kithath.}
Does it always make the same noise?
{Well... Sort of. It can change according to the song.}
Song?
{Yes, a song. It's a mix of sounds made up by people, that we then play in instruments. Like my flute.}
Ah, I see... Perhaps you could play your flute for the others in the feast?

Here the boy silenced, slipping lightly and thus completely ruining the last note he had been playing previously. {How... How did you knew?} I can see it in your mind, T'nur. Go and have a good time, I'll be alright here. With skittish eyes the boy watched his blue and the shadows that danced around the room, made by the candle. It took a while more, but finally Kithath had managed to convince the thirteen turn old child to go over and have a good time at the feast. His flute was left back along with his blue, the dragonet finding it interesting and having pleaded to keep it safe until T'nur returned.

Entering the boy had made a bee-line for the table filled with food, nodding faintly whenever a congratulation managed to find its way to him. Since the hatching he had seen the look of many, it was clear most of the people already gave up Kithath for dead -- due to his skinny frame. The thought bothered T'nur, how could they simply assume such things by looks? His dragon was completely healthy, strong and fine. He wouldn't... He wouldn't leave him anytime soon, right?

You worry too much, T'nur. I am fine. I will not leave you, not now and not ever.

The tones were musical as always, reassuring, though laced this time with a hint of drowsiness. Leaving his blue to sleep T'nur held to his thought for dear life. Yes, his Kithath was strong and would survive, he would live just as well as the other hatchlings. With a plate that consisted mostly of fruits, with a few slices of bread and spicy wherry meat -- and a glass of juice -- T'nur made his way to a desolated table at the back of the room, close to the exit. He'd come to please his blue, but now that Kithath was asleep he didn't need to go ahead and mingle with everyone else. T'nur preferred his personal space remaining... Personal.

[Invisible]

“Being philosophical takes too much time,” Genet replied with a wrinkle of her nose. “It’s all standing around and considering and talking. Not that talking is bad, but it gets so old when that’s all someone does. How dull is that? I mean, it’s not that I have to always be doing things, but when there’s something I could be doing what’s the point in not doing it?” This, then, was Genet’s philosophy of life. Do more, think less. She thought of the piece of cake carefully tucked into her pocket and wondered if it would be too tacky to take it out and eat it. Yes, she decided. In front of the Weyrwoman this was probably a bad idea. So, she settled for her juice.

“G’tet is a great guy,” she agrees with a bright smile for her brother. When Aderes looks around she shakes her head. “No. He’s not here. He’s…somewhere. I don’t know where.” Coming to a stop she looks around and then says, “I guess I thought you knew. I don’t know why. He’s one of the ones the Weyrleader sent off on some thing or other. Right when the hatching started. He made my brother miss it. Not that it mattered so much since I didn’t impress I guess, but it still left me all alone tonight. He promised to dance with me too.” There was only a little pout at that because she had to explain, “My brother, not the Weyrleader that is. About the dancing. He’s probably looking for you.” Another pause before, “The Weyrleader, I mean. Not G’tet since he is not here. I should probably go on so someone else can talk to you and stuff.”

[Tabula Rasa]

"I do hear that on occasion, talking helps people decide what's the best thing to do. That might just be rumor and heresay, though. You know how people gossip." The weyrwoman's expression was solemn, though her eyes were suspiciously bright. As Genet mentioned J'fel's something or other, Aderes finally cut carefully into her slice of wherry and indulged in a bite.

"I see," she agreed a bit more somberly after she'd swallowed. "I expect he'll be at your mercy when he returns, for running off at such a time. You'll have to think carefully, Genet, on what he'll have to do before you'll permit him in your good graces, again." Leaning back a little with a small nod, her plate was gathered up again. "He may be. Perhaps I'd better find out. It was a pleasure talking with you. I wish you luck in your search for dance partners."

[Invisible]

When the Weyrwoman cut her free Genet leaped to her feet. Success! Escape! Only…it couldn’t be that easy, could it? She picked up her cup and looked at the older woman thoughtfully. “You heard, didn’t you? I’m sorry.” And with an apology tendered she turned away and hurried off. Surely someone at the Weyr was smart enough to want to dance with her?

While she waited she dug her cake out of her pocket and unwrapped it. Now she could enjoy the sugary goodness while waiting with an impatient foot tap for a dance partner. She’d give them all two more songs before wading into the Weyr’s male residents to find a partner for herself.

[anhydrous]

(I'dalyn)

The moods shifting across C’cao’s face registered plainly to I’dalyn, but the greenrider’s words remained pleasant. Whatever was bothering the man had little to do with the him, and he knew it. Aiming to keep the mood light, I’dalyn smiled carefully as he watched C’cao glance among the weyrlings.

This smile stretched into a hearty chuckle at the next few words, his eyes diverted downward as he toyed with the stem of his wine glass. “I hardly deserve congratulations yet, but thank you all the same.” If the rest of weyrlinghood was as easy as the first day, weyrlingmasters wouldn’t resign at the pace that they did. The only man I’dalyn had ever known to last more than a turn or two in the position had been his father, unfortunately. Perhaps his callousness had shielded him from the grief that most weyrlingmasters felt as their charges were picked off by gruesome casualties and cruel chance.

I’dalyn’s eyebrows shifted upwards slightly at C’cao’s offer, lips pressed together in an interested smile. Few riders were actually attracted to a position on the weyrling staff, even fewer who would actually be of any help. So far it had been a chore to wrangle anyone into helping out, and immediately I’dalyn accepted. “Of course! Your assistance would be very much appreciated.” It was quite a relief to have someone interested in helping. C’cao was a hard worker. If there by his own idea, the greenrider would be an immense help.

Amusement fading, the brownrider paused for a moment with his head canted to one side. “You know," he began, eyes cast up to the ceiling in thought. "You’re the first to actually offer yourself up,” he punctuated the sentence with a laugh, happily smiling at C’cao. “I’ve had to bribe everyone else by getting them out of watch duty.” This divulgence brought on another pause, his brow wrinkled slightly. “Unless that’s your aim too? Either way, I don’t really care. I’m going to need all the help I can get.”