Visitors' Gather

Living Cavern (#1100)

L'tan begins his walk across the cavern with his usual slumped shuffle but when he notices the preponderance of non-weyr people in the room, his shoulders straighten and his pace turns into more of a stride, boots ringing on the stones as he passes through the crowds.

Merien smiles and says, "Well, most people think they're right most of the time. That's why they say what they do. If they didn't think it was right, they wouldn't say it at all." She sips the klah, finally, then says, "Yes, it's fine, Chegaren. Thank you." She reaches for the sweetener.

L'tan stops next to Merien. He speaks to the Weyrlingmaster with a lowered voice, "When do we get this fiasco started?"

Chegaren considers Merien's reply, staring all the while right back at Kh'gar. "They could ask questions," he suggests to the weyrlingmaster. "I ask questions all the time. Glynna says I ask too many questions. That's one of the things she's wrong about, I thi--" He stops, abruptly, when he turns back to his table partner, and finds the Weyrleader speaking to her quietly.

Slowly, many unfamiliar faces filter into the cavern, led by various over-eager candidates of all sizes, ages, and levels of excitement. They take seats all over the cavern, chattering amongst themselves, the noise level increasing as the minutes pass.

Kh'gar says "Glynna is always wrong. She wouldn't know right if it bit her on the backside."

Norgan blinks at all the new people. Once again, he's completely in the dark about weyr happenings.

Sevanne's lips twitch slightly.

Merien clears her throat and says, "Any time you're ready, I think. And it's not a fiasco. I think this is a wonderful idea!" She returns her attention to Chegaren and says, "Asking questions is just fine. I do it all the time." She pats him on the shoulder reassuringly.

Elexand goes to a quiet corner and perches on a table so he can see and hear without being seen. Or heard.

L'tan turns away from Chegaren just a bit before responding to Merien, "Putting me in front of a group of parents and asking me to reassure them that we're not torturing their children is a fiasco."

"Glynna is NOT!" Chegaren shouts back, his voice raising to be heard over the growing noise. He recalls himself, however, and adds, "Sir."

Tanon walks in from the bowl. Tanon has arrived.

Merien laughs and says to L'tan, "But we're not torturing them. There's nothing torturous in good, hard work!" Then she puts her hand on Chegaren's shoulder again, as more of a restraint this time. She bends to speak to him quietly.

Kh'gar says "Oh, she is indeed. She tries to boss anyone around wherever she is."

Norgan sips his klah, looking around nervously. All these people, one of 'ems *bound* to have something that needs fixing.

Kh'gar says "No tact, no sense of politeness."

Sevanne sighs, leaning back in her chair. "Glynna is talented," she notes. "She doesn't even have to be on the island to raise a ruckus in this weyr."

Merien mutters to Chegaren, "You... impressive?... be... best thing to... him. Especially if..."

Tanon walks with a yawn into the cavern. He fetches himself a glass of wine from the serving table and then glances around the cavern.

Kh'gar says "She's a talented runner's backside, Sevanne."

Chegaren listens quietly to Merien, and nods dubiously to her words. But at Kh'gar's second comment, he can't help but pipe up, "She's more polite than you are, sir." His cheeks are a bright pink, and his hands are clenched and sitting on the table's edge.

Sevanne shrugs. "I never said it was a desirable talent."

L'tan's spine straightens even more as he reaches up to run a hand through his unruly hair before moving to the center of the cavern, between a few of the tables which are packed with candidates and their relations. He clears his throat and says, "If you'll all settle down?"

Kh'gar says "I'm honest. She's a lying wherry-brained Herder."

Garavon enters from the narrow corridor. Garavon has arrived.

Merien clears her throat and says, "All right. Let's not go insulting any craft or hold or weyr when we have a room full of people from anywhere and everywhere." She smiles to L'tan and says, "Whenever you're ready, sir."

Chegaren's mouth drops opne, and in directdisregard for the weyrleader's request, Merien's advice, and his own common sense he shouts, "YOU TAKE THAT BACK!"

Kh'gar smiles sweetly as he looks at Chegaren, and shakes his head.

Garavon thinks to himself. "Ah, the good old days remembered."

L'tan closes his eyes for a moment, his lips moving in what is probably a silent string of very potent curse words.

Merien stands bolt upright, as if prodded by Chegaren's words, and puts a hand on his shoulder again. "Chegaren, please sit down. Now."

Nela and her parents sit quietly near the back of the room, listening intently.

Chegaren slides down into his seat and subsides, though his cheeks stay flushed and he keeps his childishly irate gaze on Kh'gar. "Did you hear what he said?" the boy asks Merien quietly. "He said Glynna was a..." Biting his lip, he exhales sharply and indignantly.

Tanon takes a sip of his wine and then walks into the lower caverns when he notices Kh'gar.

Kh'gar says "Wherry-brained Herder. As well as a runner's backside."

Kh'gar looks back at Chegaren, not missing a beat, still smiling sweetly.

Sevanne sighs heavily, propping her chin on her upraised fist. "And I used to complain about the quiet..." she muses.

Shast excuses himself and heads towards the lower caverns.

Shast walks down the corridor. Shast has left.

L'tan's eyes open again and moves to stand near Kh'gar. He leans down and mummurs something to the greenrider.

Carmos grumpily eyes the Weyrleader, his fawning mother babbling in his ear. "Let's get this over with, Shards," he mumbles. His mother frowns and hits him on the head, Carmos responding with a loud yelp.

Chegaren turns in his chair, and faces L'tan. Merien said to ignore the greenrider, so that's what he's going to do.

Merien nods and bends to say to Chegaren quietly, "He ranks you. That means if you have a problem with him, you have to bite your lip, or come to someone of higher rank. Just ignore it, and don't let him bait you into getting yourself into trouble."

Kh'gar nods to L'tan, hearing his words.

Tanon walks down the corridor. Tanon has left.

L'tan moves back to the center of the room, his hands not seeming to find a place to rest, they start in front of his lap, then land on his hips and end up clentched behind his back. He clears his throat, "Welcome to Ista weyr. I'm L'tan, Habrith's rider and Weyrleader here."

Elexand watches the goings on the same way he'd watch a circus: from far away and higher up, with no animals in his act to tease or anger.

At the Weyrleader's booming introduction, very few people stop their chatter to listen. Instead they babble on and on and on, loudly.

L'tan forces himself to look at the assembled group, "We're very pleased to have each of the candidate's here." He looks at a few for a moment, eyes landing on Chegaren, Carmos, and a few others, "And were extremely happy to have each member of their families who could be here today with us." His voice takes on the flat tone which someone who's reciting something by rote might have.

Garavon oohs. "Just like the old days."

Nela and her parents look rather put out by the audience's disrespect.

L'tan increases the volume of his voice, "We could not continue as a weyr without the support of all of you."

Slowly, more and more faces turn toward L'tan, but most -- especially Carmos's mother -- continue to chatter.

Sevanne pushes herself to her feet and clears her throat. "The Weyrleader is speaking," she announces, her voice just loud enough to catch attention.

Kh'gar whispers something in Sevanne's ear, and then heads into the lower caverns.

Elexand whistles a sharp, piercingly loud note, and sustains it with trained lungs to cut through the audience's chatter like a knife through soft cheese.

Kh'gar walks down the corridor. Kh'gar has left.

Carmos' mother, in fact, turns and glares at L'tan. "You are interrupting," she says curtly, and continues to hit Carmos in the head.

L'tan's voice is exteremly loud - he's after all had several years of practice bellowing between dragons and there's anger in his tone as well, "Would you all just sharding shut the blazes up?"

Chegaren slouches in his chair and lets his feet wing back and forth around the sides, watching the shadow his shoes make on the floor, and rubbing the tip of his tongue busily over his molars, mouth hanging open partway. Oh yes. He's something to make the Weyr proud.

Chegaren blinks, and nearly bites his tongue as the Weyrleader shouts. He staightens up again, forthwith, and satres at L'ten attentively.

Suddenly, the living cavern turns into a quiet one, the crowd stunned and hushed. Most eyes are on the livid Weyrleader.

L'tan's hands fist as he begins to pace in the circle between the tables, "We didn't have to bloody let you all come here and disturb us, you know. I for one would much rather be eating my sharding dinner then listening to you all bleat."

Sevanne sighs and decides to make her exit, as well.

Sevanne walks down the corridor. Sevanne has left.

Merien winces and clears her throat again, looking at L'tan. "As you were saying, L'tan? We need their support in order to keep going... Was that what you were saying?"

After the initial shock has worn off, Chegaren sets to watching the weyrleader with interest, and with a small smile. This is really turning out to be quite interesting. He sits up on his knees on the chair again, and leans over to eye the assembled parents, all of whom are getting a stern talking-to. But then... they were told they'd get to see what it's like to be a Candidate.

L'tan stops as Merien speaks and a flush begins to crawl its way up the sides of his face, "Uh, right." His eyebrows draw down into a frown and his lips move, almost as if he can't continue the speach without getting back to the right place.

Madelynda eyes the Weyrleader blankly. It seems nothing could surprise her tonight, so she isn't pale or anything.

Maehryn enters from the narrow corridor. Maehryn has arrived.

Irritation still colors the Weyrleader's tone but it's less noticible now, "We could not continue as a weyr without the support of all of you." A beat and then he sails off to the rest of his speach, "Each of the candidates is important to us - they are the future of the weyr. Many of them will be riders and will go on to protect Pern, which is the charter of the weyr." It's obvious someone else wrote this speach, L'tan probably doesn't even know what a charter is.

Makeda walks in from the bowl. Makeda has arrived.

Maehryn slips quetly into the living cavern, looking rather dusty and disheveled. But his white shirt is clean. Grey eyes dart around the cavern for a moment and he spots Chegaren. But L'tan's speech draws him up short and he realizes there are a sharding lot of people in here he doesn't know.

Merien pats Chegaren's shoulder as she sips her klah and listens. She's perched on a table again, swinging one leg idly back and forth.

R'val walks in from the bowl. R'val has arrived.

Chegaren is kneeling on a chair by Merien, with a gleefully surprised expression on his face as he awaits L'tan's next words to the crowded cavern. One of them is alregly unfamiliar, so he tugs the weyrlingmaster's sleeve. "What's a charter?" he whispers loudly.

Elexand walks down the corridor. Elexand has left.

L'tan pastes on a smile that if the light were dimmer might even pass as sincere, "Thank you for sending your children to us. It's an" he has to clear his throat again, "honor to have them." Then he turns to Merien, "And now our Weyrlingmaster, Merien, will speak."

Makeda slips in with R'val and stands near the entrance.

R'val stands at Makeda's side. He smiles faintly, and directs a more energetic smile at Merien as she stands.

Madelynda brightens a little as Merien gets the go to speak, a flash of relief on her face.

Merien bends to speak quietly. She mutters to Chegaren, "... is... the... He's saying... of... weyr is..."

Carmos' mother audibly humphs, looking around at the assorted faces near her. "Charter, shmarter," she mumbles under her breath, before resentfully turning her attention on Merien.

Makeda stands slightly behind R'val. She would rather that L'tan not notice her.

L'tan cocks his foot back to take a swing at the nearest chair but instead he just falls into it instead. The chair creaks as it absorbs his impact.

"Oh," says Chegaren, not really listening. He waves to Maehryn in the middle of Merien's explanation, then turns back intime to say "Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am."

Maehryn stands by the tunnel into the lower caverns, his eyes going around the living cavern at all these people. "Oh!" he suddenly exclaims, realizing what's going on. "These are all the parents!" He looks immensely pleased at himself for this realization.

R'val smiles over his shoulder at Makeda, and turns his attention to the weyrlingmaster, curious.

Makeda whispers something to R'val about someone stomping on her foot and making her yell right in front of L'tan.

Merien stands and says, "Thank you, L'tan." She moves toward the front of the group, where L'tan was standing. "I'd like to talk about what happens at and, more importantly, after the Hatching. And I'd also be happy to answer any questions as well. Are there any now, before I get started?"

Carmos' mother doesn't even raise her hand, but shouts out, "I gotta question, honey. So, who do I talk to about Carmos gettin' that bronze dragon the big old beast is fawning over, eh?"

Maehryn watches Merien as he slips through the crowded living cavern towards Chegaren. He mutters to Chegaren, "... these... the, uh,..."

Laurene enters from the narrow corridor. Laurene has arrived.

Rykel walks in from the bowl. Rykel has arrived.

Makeda points out Chegaren to the Benden bluerider. "That one," she whispers.

Rykel enters on Laurene's heels, shuffling in as unobtrusively as possible.

Merien smiles and says to the woman, "Which bronze? Do you mean a bronze hatchling? Or the big bronze watching over the eggs?"

R'val Hrms thoughtfully, glancing at Chegaren and nodding to Makeda's whisper.

L'tan mumbles to himself while tracing a pattern on the tabletop in front of him, "Beast? I'll show her beast. Habrith can eat her and then take her son for dessert. Probably give him indigestion."

Laurene wanders into the living cavern, whistling a jaunty sea tune as she makes her way towards the nearest food source.

Chegaren nods quickly to Maehryn, listening to Merien as she speaks. "Most of 'em," he says to the other candidate. "Some of them aren't parents, though, I think. An some of them are -stupid-." He says this in a furtive voice, but his high-pitched tones tend to carry in a group.

Makeda folds her arms in front of her looking rather smuggly in said Candidate's direction.

The mother winces fiercely at Merien, shrieking, "No! No! Not that big old ugly beast out on the sands! That prutty lil' egg!" She looks to the mother next to her and nods defiantly.

Nela's eyes grow wide at the woman's outburst and she leans to whisper a question to her father. He simply shakes his head, slowly.

Mercy enters from the narrow corridor. Mercy has arrived.

Makeda rolls her eyes considering 'that big ole' ugly beast' belongs to the Weyrleader.

Chegaren is kneeling on a chair close to the front of the large gathering. He and Maehryn are sharing a table with an empty seat, thanks to Merien's recent departure.

Carmos, absolutely mortified (for once), shrinks down into his chair and pulls on his mother's hair. "Yow!" she cries, and turns her blustery effort from harassing the Weyrleaders to beating her boy's head.

Ianthe enters from the narrow corridor. Ianthe has arrived.

Merien keeps the smile on her face, turning it toward L'tan before she looks back to the guest. "Well now, if you don't like the looks of Habrith, you're not likely to find a little hatchling bronze all that handsome either. Habrith's about as fine a bronze as you'll find, ma'am.' She pauses, then continues with, "And it's the dragons who do the choosing, not me, or you, or Carmos. When they hatch, they'll choose whoever on the sands is most suited for them."

Maehryn glances towards Makeda and R'val. Since he's right next to Chegaren, it could be quite possible they're looking in his direction. He blinks at them, looking rather nervous, then looks back at Chegaren. "Oh," he replies, eyes darting around at the group people. "Parents usually are stupid," he replies, a note of bitterness in his voice that causes it to carry louder than he intends.

A rumbling voice coming from a man whose skin has been weathered by turns upon the ocean's back and under the sun's bright eye calls out Laurene's name. Laurie, in turn, freezes, very nearly dropping the plate of greens that she'd started serving. She backpedals, bumping into a matronly woman and mumbling an apology. The man, for his part, glowers about disdainfully, fixing a stern gaze upon Laurene.

Makeda mutters to R'val, "... have... confess I... he threw... on me, but... the..."

R'val mutters to Makeda, "... two... like..."

Madelynda's eyes flash angrily at the stupid woman, her general annoyance at Carmos and all things Carmos clear. Her gaze then casually turns on the man who shouted at Laurene, and she watches him curiously for a moment before turning her attention on Merien again.

Makeda turns red and hides even more behind R'val.

Sonya walks in from the bowl. Sonya has arrived.

Chegaren is completely oblivious to the muttering, pointing and staring that's going on behind him, as he divides his attention between people watching and Merien's speech. "Where're your parents?" he asks Maehryn, leaning around the other candidate to eye Laurene's guest in the back.

Sonya strides in, whistling merrily.

R'val spots Sonya entering and flashes a quick, warm smile at her.

Ianthe walks in, quietly... much more shy than usual, eyes stuck on the floor. She moves over to get juice, then carries her glass back to the Candidate table, depositing herself in an empty seat. She sips, softly.

Merien looks around the room before continuing. "Now, you're all invited to the Hatching, of course, and to a gathering afterward. If your child doesn't Impress, then he or she can return home with you, or stay, as you and he or she choose." She smiles and looks at the candidates. "After they've been here so long, I have to say we've grown fond of them, and would welcome them as residents here."

Laurene's gaze goes about the room, obviously seeking some way to sink right into solid rock before she finally trudges towards the man. Self-confident young woman slipping quickly to sheepish child, years seemingly falling away as she draws closer. "Uh. Hi, Da." She lifts a hand, rubbing absently at the hair above her ear.

Pale shade of green marking her features distinctly, Rykel veers away from the food table and slides down into one of the empty seats of the Timor. Eyes taking everything in, her lps curve to form a smile as scenes here and there in the cavern spark up.

Makeda tugs at R'val's sleeve. "Maybe it's a good thing my parents couldn't come." She nods at the obvious discomfort of the candidates around the cavern.

Ianthe withdraws even further into herself upon hearing the speech going on. A soft sigh, and she swirls the juice around. One hand goes to her pocket, withdraws the scrap of hide that she never /did/ get translated correctly. She looks down at it. "Runners and hats," she murmurs.

Sonya stops at the entrance, her whistling stopping short as she looks at the crowd in the cavern. Her brows furrow, proably deep in though. Then it comes to her. Slinking around the wall, she almost makes it past the main crowd when several parents of NPC candidates spot the Weyrsecond and make a straight line for her, asking her several questions, at the same time listening to Merien.

R'val winks at Makeda, 'Maybe."

Makeda snickers at R'val. "My Da's a Lord Holder wanna be. He would strut around asking stupid questions and embarassing me."

R'val chuckles, "Parents usually embarass their children, "He remarks quietly.

Chegaren pokes Maehryn. "I'm getting a bubbly," he says, jerking his head treats prepared for the guest. "I'll get you one too." He slides out of his chair and slinks off into the crowd.

Chegaren walks down the corridor. Chegaren has left.

A gaze is shifted, half-searching, half-expectant, around the expanse of crowded cavern, talking people, and tables and chairs. Mercy bites her lower lip, before skirting past a filled table to reach Ianthe's side. "Greetings," she mumbles, gaze still intaking the cavern.

Merien takes a breath, then continues with, "If your children do Impress, then they will become weyrlings, and they'll come to live in the barracks with the other weyrlings. Then comes the most work they could see: tending to a new lifemate." She smiles, and finishes with, "And then they're riders, after about a turn and a half of training. You won't see them often during that training, but keep in mind they'll be doing their best to learn how to protect Pern, and their own families." She takes another breath. "Are there any questions, then?"

Maehryn looks around the living cavern, his eyes examining each adult carefully. "Uhm, sure," he says to Chegaren absently, not hearing the other lad.

Laurene's father looks down at her, arms crossing across his chest, a pose probably often taken at the front of a boat as it passed over the waves. "Well, lass, were y'plannin' on tellin' us 'bout this nonsense? Y'never did tell me yerself 'bout yer leavin'. 'Ad t'learn 'bout it from tha' blasted watchrider." He sniffs, disdainfully, "Can't trust one o'em as far as ye could throw 'em."

Kh'gar enters from the narrow corridor. Kh'gar has arrived. Rykel is nearest the Laurene-scene, and scoots her chair around with a skidding sound to get a better look. She chews on a fingernail while her brows crease down, down, down as his words ramble on to what she is not wanting to hear.

Sonya finally tears herself away from parents and once again heads for the klah pitcher. But before she can get there, Laurene's father's words drift past her ears and she again changes course. Walking up to him, she puts on her best smile. "Sonya here, Weyrsecond to Blue Pryth!"

Brightening a bit, Ianthe smiles at Mercy. "Nobody came to see you, either?" She murmurs the question, hesitantly.

L'tan stands back up now that Merien's finished, "You're now free to tour the weyr. Your children will be able to show you around and they should no better than to take you somewhere you shouldn't be. If any of you have further questions, any one of the riders will be happy to answer them." He clears his throat and says, "Dismissed."

Kh'gar skirts the edge of the cavern, keeping out of the way of the morass of people.

Merien smiles to L'tan and bends to speak to him. She mutters to L'tan, "Now,... bad, was..."

A tall, man in his early thirties sitting at Starstrike's table chuckles suddenly. His eyes go to Maehryn, who's sitting alone. "I was just wondering when Maehryn was going to get around to telling me he was here. Does he really expect to keep it a secret for over a turn? And do I get a tour of the Weyr?" Maehryn starts, hearing that voice and his name and turns to look at the speaker.

Laurene heaves a sigh, rolling her eyes, "Come on, da. I wrote." Muttered under her breath is, "Not my fault you can't read." Of course, a safe distance is kept. The man snorts, "Y'did at that, I'll not deny." He pauses at Sonya's approach. "Are ye now? Derigan o' Red Sands." His tone and attitude seem more bluster than actual anger. A careful mask, perhaps?

L'tan waves a hand, "Most of you will most likely want to see the eggs. I'll tell Habrith that he can have dinner later."

L'tan gives Merien a sour expression.

Makeda blinks at L'tan. Did he really say that to the parents?

The audience perks up at the mention of eggs, and begin to rustle out of their seats and move en masse toward the entrance to the Bowl.

Back to Home