| Harper Hall Party (Part 4) Friday, October 5, 2001 The World of Pern(tm) copyright (c) 1967 by Anne McCaffrey. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright. Log courtesy of R�kan ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Caitlin laughs softly "Respectful as polite and nice and not taking advantage of you." She shakes her head "We do not care about rank at Harper Hall, everyone deserves our respect." Wine is sampled and enjoyed and she smiles "Looks like people are starting to get tired. Should I stop the music and see if they want to return to the dining hall for refreshments you think?" Cera hehs and blushes a bit. "Um... thank you, V'len. I've, um... been waiting for a time to wear this outfit." Cera blushes a bit more and nods at V'len. "And... you look nice, too. You said this was one of your designs, this outfit?" Cera -tries- to compliment in return. But... it's been a long time... Smoothly gliding along with V'len's steps Cera fixes the man with a furrowed brown. "Um... about R'kan, V'len... you know, everyone is ... um... saying you two are going to be a ... um... couple." Cera turns fiery red now, looking more at V'len's chest than at the man himself. That wine is really loosening up her lips. "I mean.. I don't see why... if you would stop talking about yourself long enough, you'd get girls if you ... uh... wanted them." Yeah, that was almost motherly in tone. Arawn blinks at Kishairyn, and shakes his head, "No...not that I'm aware?" He glances to both V'len and Cera, and wrinkles his nose, "Definitely not V'len's. Too ostentatious. But no, didn't have anything to do with Cera's...why?" Zinia nods at Caitlin. "Some food sounds good. I know I'm hungry." Her stomach even growls on cue. "Though I can't stay too late. Mom told Auntie to make sure I was back at a decent hour. But I can stay a little bit longer right?" Hopeful look there. R'kan sighs as Jenar leaves in a huff, and gives a worried look to Anki. "Is it just me or was that a little too emotional for a festive occasion? She does have a quaint way of consistently hating my entrails." An attempt at a grin proves a little more promising, and it's not too long before he blossoms into a full-fledged smile. "As long as you lead, and ignore my definite lack of masculinity, I'm sure we'll do fine." Andrei shrugs, "You /are/ the MasterHarper. The decision is left to you." Winkage. "But what about the apprentices who wanted to perform? I know Varia did... and Joyton really wanted a round..." He shrugs, "Their fault for missing it, right?" Taire peers after the retreating Ary, smirking lightly after him. Just see if'n she ever dances with that one again. Bruised ego? She'll bruise a lot more if she ever gets her hands on him. She seems rather oblivious to his actions, but sidling glances are directed to the candidate once and again. Wine glass is once more tipped to her lips as she gulps down the burgundy-hued contents. An "Ahhhh" followed by a swipe of her hand over her lips draws the lost shoe into view. "Shells." Footwear is dropped and her foot slips into it once more. With a sniff, the girl turns about to spot ... Ohhhh, Fyne! *swoon* She bats doe-eyes at the boy for a moment, watching from afar. Tora smiles, glad that the Maxwell is still willing to dance and also glad that the song is a slow one. Not that she is tired but she is still having trouble dancing. Also she prefers dancing slowly, especially with her friend. She watches as many of the others leave. It would seem that the party is almost over, too bad really. Caitlin laughs softly and nods "We won't throw you out but cannot have Siani mad at me." She smiles and stands "I suppose if they want to dance they can remain here but the musicians will probably be on break." She winks "Lets get some refreshment and perhaps they will not look for you in there Zinia." She smiles at Andrei "if you like you could ask people if they want to hear your song." V'zan makes good his escape, clearing a path for P'tala in the process. He flashes a smile towards Caitlin and offers her a friendly wave, but the desire to finally flee the crowded chamber overwhelms any thoughts of congratulating her on the party at the moment. Such niceties can be handled later. For now, freedom beckons. Kishairyn quirks another sideways glance, studying the pair covertly before she shrugs. "I would never ... amazing," she murmurs. "That's a brave move for poor Cera." Her expression turns wry. "I didn't think so, but it never hurts to check ... and I think Cera made her own. Lovely, isn't it?" Zinia grins and rises, a happy canine pup following Caitlin. "Sounds good. Besides. Can just say the Masterharper wanted to speak to me right?" Since they are all buddy buddy and all. Fynelox freezes over in his dim corner, having caught sight of Taire over on the other side of the auditorium. Can we say deer caught in headlights? It was one thing to give into a moment, spurned on by the badgering of the older males in the Weyr, but in the cold light of morning, he can't believe he actually went through with it. Must have been the heat, the steam, or something. Gulping, he stares back at her, backing up slightly till he bumps into the wall behind him. A grimace appears though in the darkness where he stands, it might be mistaken for a smile from afar. P'tala leaves the wonderful acoustics of the auditorium for the entry hall. Anki has to lead? Hesitating, she nods and strides out to prove she can do just that. "Barring some festive arrangement between you, me and Menacion, I suppose I will have to learn," she teases R'kan as they round a couple of lovesick Healers. "Mmm, I don't know. It was certainly very out of place and I..well. I don't know what to say. I thought that you weren't involved with Jeryn at all, but I might've been wrong?" she queries before getting to the skinny, "So tell me. what's this about V'len?" Maxwell stops dancing as he notices the harpers slowing, but keeps his arm around Tora's waist. Looking at her, he smiles. "Should we follow everyone else? I believe someone said something about food...." As always, he's hungry, but if Tora wishes to stay and dance some more, he will gladly do it. He'll just have to ignore his annoying growling stomach..... V'len looks at Cera in confusion. "R'kan and me? Well, he is absolutely charming, and he and I have hit it off wonderfully. I'm kind of at a loss for what you mean." And indeed, poor V'len is. "I think every guy should have a guy freind to talk to ...you know, exchange decorating tips, fashion updates, that sort of thing. Guy talk. I've just had a hard time finding someone with my interests. As for the women? I think I'll just have to wait until I find one that takes me as I am. After all, I don't really think I should change for anyone, do you? I mean, all that 'be true to yourself' stuff? You're not expecting me to discount that, are you?" Arawn chuckles lightly; he shakes his head, saying as an aside to Kishairyn, "No it's not. She's drinking. She gets that way when she takes wine." Amused, he shrugs lightly, then murmurs, "Sure is, Cera's talented." With this, he glances around, and smirks, "I'm still betting on that other fellow catching V'len." R'kan takes up the female position again, giggling at Anki, then sighing at the more sedate conversation. "Odd," he replies, shoulders rolling upwards as a preventative for sagging, "I thought that I was. The father, you know... But seeing as I'm hardly allowed in the weyr, and that Kerryn was trying to kill me during her pregnancy..." He may be talking, but feet and body keep up with the rhythm, almost negligently following along. "And as for V'len... he's cute. Not a girlish attempt to make Jenar jealous, either." And what should follow up a comment like that, but a saucy wink? Taire is no prim little miss to sit back and allow any shying away continue. Ohhh no, life must be lived to the fullest. As if she is going to kick one boy in the shins in one breath and moon after the other in the next, then so be it. Wine-glass is held before her as she sweeps forth, meandering around this one and that, with eyes only for that little herder boy. Its like he is calling to her from afar. Wow... has Fynelox always sparkled like that? Funny she never really noticed before. As a pair dance before her, gaze is momentarily broken from that dashing candidate of the firmly enchanting lips. Cera blinks at V'len a few more times as they dance around, chewing on her lower lip. She may not -LIKE- him... but... dare she NOT ... warn him. "Eh... well, truth be told, I am not all that sure what people mean either. I mean... how is it possi...Er..." Cera shakes her head and looks down at her shoes, making sure she hasn't lost the beat. Or... just hiding from V'len's gaze as she blushes more. "As far as being true to yourself... I don't know. I mean... here I am, and I haven't found anyone, V'len. You dragonriders," she starts to comment teasingly, "Keep taking them away from me when I -DO- find someone." Then she shrugs again, smiling slightly. "Just... V'len, trust me. Go back to the sands... -DON'T- follow R'kan to his weyr... hmmm?" Tora laughs as the growling of Maxwell's stomach is joined by her own. "All right, lets go eat." She detaches herself, rather reluctantly, from Maxwell and leads him off of the dance floor, not quite sure just where the food is. As usual she speaks her mind. "Um, where is the food?" The musicians stand, their places taken by others and they join the crowd or leave for food and drink, arms and hands tired. The new musicians take up their places and begin playing mood music, soft and gentle, not intrusive but there in the background for anyone who wants to listen. Kishairyn quirks an eyebrow. "That's a terrible fate," she murmurs. "To turn to V'len whilst on wine ..." She tilts her head, peering about the auditorium in search of R'kan. "I don't think Anki is going to give him any openings," she remarks, amusement clear in her voice. "That she is," she's willing to agree, then casts a glance towards the harpers. "Seems as if they're worn out." "R'kan, if you're going to set your cap at V'len, I swear I'll go canine-mad and start howling at the moon," Anki swears, carefully cradling the man around another brisk turn. "I'll have to thank you though, since it'll keep his attention off us long enough for me to escape at the Hatching and flee back to the Hall." Conspiratorially, she leans closer. "I could bring the two of you some refreshments perhaps?" she offers innocuously, well willing to prod the dragon firmly in the hiney region. "After all, a night's dancing such as this would be enough to tire delicate sensibilities terribly." Menacion takes advantage of the momentary lack of people to talk to and snags himself a drink--non-alcoholic, of course. Poor Fyne. He's going to have to face the consequences of his actions: being cornered by a love-sick Taire. Eyes idly travel over the crowd, from pairing to pairing. Quite odd, most of them. If not all of them. Fynelox looks around wildly. Trapped. Stupid corners. His fingers tighten around his mug of juice, nothing to fortify the soul or one's spine inside that cup. Oooh, he shouldn't have given in to impulse last night, what could have he been thinking? (It's called teenage hormones, bound to happen to even him.) Closing his eyes for a second, he tries to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. Hrm..not working that well. Everytime he opens his eyes, Taire is that much closer. Oh shells. Finally, it's unavoidable since he feels rooted to the spot, small part of his mind yammering in fear, but oddly another voice is wondering why he'd need to run at all. "Ah... hi Taire." Andrei comes into the auditorium, a panicked look on his face. Running over to the two things he forgot, he sighs heavily... grabs his songbook and his gitar, and goes to play with the orchestra for a moment. V'len is really confused now. "You've not found anyone and you're giving me romantic advice?" He pulls back a bit to look at her face. "And you expect me to take it, too? Dear Cera, if I need a coach at all, I'll ask someone who knows. Someone like.... Anki!" And it's just now that the two couples swing closer, and V'len calls out to the other woman. "Anki, Cera says I shouldn't go with R'kan to his weyr. But I assume it's okay for me to take him to my weyr, no? I think he'd enjoy my mural...and I'd love to show him the throw pillows I've just finished. No harm in that, is there?" Cera stops dead, her face near purple now with the blush as she groans and stares at V'len. Lowering her head, Cera whimpers. She picks up her skirts, without another word, and turns, running for the door. This is -NOT- a good night! Arawn stifles a smirk; he shakes his head to Kishairyn, and gestures with a hand, "I wouldn't say she does THAT." Not even a drunken Cera is as bad as /V'len/. He pauses, and considers, glancing around, and murmurs, as the music slows, "Would you like to keep dancing?" He nods towards Fynelox. R'kan could, if anyone, throw his head back and laugh, and he does so with only a slight lean against Anki's arms. Leaning into the woman, he whispers in return, "Don't worry. I think maybe the wine was a little too much for our V'len... he'll wake up tomorrow morning and wonder why he said those things, and why there's someone hammering at his skull." Straightening his back cheerfully, he beams at V'len with the most powerful of smiles. "There's nothing wrong in seeing a few throw pillows, surely not! And a mural..." The bronzerider looks positively captivated at the idea... which will doubtless earn him a glare or two from his dancing partner. Taire sweeps up to stand before Fyne, beaming brightly onto the boy of her same age. As soon as she comes to a stop her dress seems to feel the need to keep going. A strap falls over her shoulder, and is quickly picked back up and put into place. Finger runs along the rim of her wine glass as she eyes him for a long moment. Quite the tense and pregnant pause before she finally finds words. "How are you doing?" The orchestra stops quite abruptly, and all remain seated. A single apprentice remains standing, and Andrei walks to the front of the pit, pulling a stool along behind him. Sitting down, he puts his gitar gently into his lap, and coughs a little loudly. "Excuse me, but would anyone be interested in hearing a new composition?" Kishairyn peers over at Cera and V'len, considering. "Oh ... dear ..." she murmurs as Cera takes off. "Do you think she'll be all right?" She fidgets nervously, hands a-twitch before she focuses a wry smile on Arawn. "Looks like we have a breather anyway ... but why in the world are you ..." She spots Fynelox and flutters a blown kiss in his direction. It just replaces "hi." Liathano starts up from her seat on the bench. She must have fallen asleep...Rubbing her eyes and blinking, she manages to make sense of the harper's words and nods. "Sure! Is it yours, by any chance?" Well, obviously. Don't pay any attention to her, she's stupid when she's just woken up.....Well, more stupid than she usually is, anyway. Anki wiggles her eyebrows, "A few pillows and a mural can be arranged. Perhaps a jug of mulled wine? It has salutary effects on someone's tongue, so I'm told. He'll be positively impressed." Slowing and finally halting, she peers over the Fortian Daisy's shoulder at Andrei, frowning slightly. She was enjoying the dance. Still, with little ill humor, she nods. "Mmm. Can I help you plan?" she stage-whispers to her...er..conspirator? Fynelox uses both hands to hold his mug, just to keep it from sloshing over the sides. No, his hands aren't shaking or getting clammy... yeah right. His eyes flick to her shoulder, maybe lingering too long on the fallen strap of her dress for a moment before snapping back up to her face. Staring into her eyes isn't exactly a comfortable view either he quickly finds out, fairly sure that no one has ever looked at him that way either. Licking suddenly dry lips, he gathers his wits and tries a reply. "I'm doing alright. Have... you been enjoying the dancing?" Is that a safe question? He's not sure. Completely nailed in place, he doesn't even notice the blown kiss from Kish. Now that's a new one. Fyne's found a threat even scarier than /her/? Arawn hmms, considering, as he watches Cera dart towards the door, "I hope so..." He trails off, then shakes his head at Kishairyn, mustering a smirk as he sees her blow a kiss, instead laughing softly, and whispers to Kishairyn, "Looks like Fynelox likes her. They'd make a cute couple." Once Fynelox got all the knives away from Taire, that is. Andrei smiles warmly at Liathano, "Yes... I did write it. With a little help from an old love." Since a few people seem to want to hear it... Taking his gitar, tuning it gently, and clearing his throat, Andrei addresses all there. "Greetings, lords and ladies... dragonriders... and craftsmen alike. I shall start my round this evening with a song written a few Turns ago about a man's lost love..." Striking the opening chords, he closes his eyes, mouth opening for the first lyrics. I was lost when you found me All I did was look into your eyes And I felt myself come unglued Though I tried to hang on to my lies You don't even know how you did it Well, to tell you the truth, nor do I I suppose we learned it along the way But still, for me, 'twas a surprise Whilst the shells crack Against a dragon's back No knife could cut as deep The thread do nothing but creep Against my skin As I lay still against you Love was once an accursed word To say it meant complete failure But how was I in training to remember When contact of our eyes occured Were we ever starting to love Or was it all in my own head? I could swear you felt the same way But it's kinda hard to ask for sure of the dead Opening his eyes for a brief moment, he goes back to his gitar, strumming a few chords, adjusting himself in his seat. Eyes twinkling slightly before they close again, Andrei beginning to sing again... Whilst the shells crack Against a dragon's back No knife could cut as deep The thread do nothing but creep Against my skin As I lay still against you Even if we were never meant to be together How can we even have a chance If you're not here with me How can there be a romance I still wonder how it was you broke me How I went from perfect soldier to lost lover All I know is now I could never love another Menacion speaks up dryly, walking over towards Kish and Arawn. "Likes her? More than just that, it appears. The boy kissed her fairly thoroughly a few days ago in the baths. And apparently she's smitten with him now." Whilst the shells crack Against a dragon's back No knife could cut as deep The thread do not but creep With head down, and that one glass of wine in her, Cera really shouldn't be running. She only proves this as instead of barging through the doors, Cera firmly runs into the wall next to them. Stumbling backwards, Cera blinks a few times and stares. "That ... hurt..." she comments dizzily. Then, a moment later she looks around, remembering where she is... and -WHY- she was running! Why did V'len have to go and announce that to everyone on the dancefloor! Humiliated and embarrassed, even more now that she'd run into the wall. Cera blinks, clearing her vision, and briskly, but carefully heads for the doors. Doors are good. Doors are your friends. Doors don't usually hurt you. Usually. V'len is just standing there alone on the dance floor, having been abandoned, but he smiles again at Anki's assurances. "Oh, I've been waiting to show off my mural. I had Angelo from down south come and paint it. It took him months..but the effect is astonishing." He's quite pleased now... he gets to show his new friend the rococo tribute to himself and the Magnificent Yevgeth that was commissioned for his weyr walls. "I'm sure you've never seen anything like it." As he's speaking, he travels to the wall, arranging himself in one of those suave poses he's practiced on the sands. (It gets boring out there.) R'kan whimpers at Anki, taking the suggestion with a look of horror... And a second, if doubting, glance at V'len. A lowered voice, then, "Well, I suppose he's very nice to look at... And he does have his charm if you work on it long enough..." The rider temporarily forgets his role as female of the couple, and whirls Anki into a spin--lo and behold, when she comes out, his hands on her waist. "Oooh, help... That would be thoroughly appreciated," the bronzer says, eyes shining at the prospect of a new pursuit. One that might not be able to best him in weightlifting. Taire continues to eye him, looking most haughty and superior and so very pleased with herself. Where she a feline, she'd be licking her whiskers right about now. Instead, she just opts for the licked-lips move. Mouth opens to impart something or another, only she is shut up as the harper begins upon a solo. She politely listens to the thing, but not before casting a few more glossy glances to the boy near to her. Ohhh, she could just swoon. In the meantime, she flashes Fyne another of those coy glances. "Want a sip of my wine, Fyne?" And without asking him, hand reaches over to try to wrestle his mug of juice away. Rayna keeps her hidden place, absently plucking at her gitar now as she listens to Andrei play. She prefers not to play for audiences though, her last worked her up quite a bit. Kishairyn is quite intent on the music for a moment before Menace's presence - and his words - draw heavily arched brows. "What? Without *me* to watch?" She seems positively scandalized ... not that it happened, but without her as a spectator? "Amazing," she decides. "They'd make a sweet pair, however." She grins at Arawn. "Have to do that. It's a tradition." Liathano blinks her eyes rapidly, still not quite believing she managed to fall asleep in the middle of a party. With a soft sigh, she glances around to see who's still here. She winces slightly as she watches someone run into a wall, absently thinking she must have had too much wine. That doesn't stop her from taking a sip of the Benden red in her own glass, however, as she looks for someone who doesn't seem to be paired off to talk to. Anki is spinned, a discreet flash of leg showing before she straightens, all starry-eyed by the possibility of them not having to deal with a distracted V'len. "Do you think he'll go for it?" she asks, almost breathless with excitement. "Oh, don't worry, R'kan. All cats are equal in the dark and he shuts up rather prettily." She leans closer to whisper an observation on V'len garnered from long-ago baths, one that sees her almost smirking with glee. Arawn blinks towards Menacion, and looks surprised, "That lad? But he's always so shy, when I saw him..." He sounds surprised as well, laughing softly, and nods to Kishairyn, "They do, don't they? And well, traditions should be followed, of course." "Apparently he felt V'len, Thanial, Ashelyn, Nonam, and myself were more than enough of an audience." Menace replies, with a hint of a frown. "I thought so too. Temporary insanity, I'd say. But judging from the look on his face, he's regained his wits." And is frightened out of them. Fynelox protests rather weakly as Taire takes his mug away, "But..but I wasn't..done with that yet." Oh well, guess he is done with that. One sees very bad things coming from this. No good can come of this, mark my words. The harper's singing made only a small distraction for the boy, Taire's presence and rather heated glances making his heart race quite a bit. And he's so thirsty, boy he could have used the rest of the juice in the mug. "Wine, Taire? Uh, are we supposed to be drinking wine?" He's heard rather interesting things about the stuff, but familiar he is not with the drink. "Are you..alright? You've been looking at me an awful lot tonight." He peels his gaze away from hers to glance down his tunic, "Did I spill on myself or something? I have a tendency to be somewhat clumsy in public." Such simple, nonchalant words it might seem to strangers, but those who know Fyne can probably tell that for him, this is babbling. V'len stifles a yawn, then smiles apologetically to his new friend. "Sometime, you'll have to come up and see my mural, no? But for now, Yevgeth is telling me rather pointedly that my duty is back on the sands. In fact, he's a bit, well, upset?" This is considered for a moment and then passed off with a shrug. " Kishairyn bursts out laughing and shakes her head. "Oh, I don't think little Fyne will ever be the same again," she remarks with soft amusement, making her own observations of the scene. "Bah. No audience is complete without me, Menace, and I'll thank you to remember that when you finally break down and kiss someone." She inclines her head to Arawn. "Thought you'd see it that way. And he is shy. Quite abdominally." Another curious peer in the direction of the boy. But he has kissed someone. Taire instantly pushes forward her own nearly full glass of wine. "Here, have mine? Eh? Ohhhh, everybody has been drinkin' it, and nobody has yelled yet. Go ahead. Have at it. It'll make you feel so much better.... Relaxing." The girl continues to flutter lashes at Fynelox in some kind of sad rendition of what she sees some of the girls do to the bronzeriders. "Looking at you? Why? Can't I? There isn't anything wrong at looking at a nice looking young man now, is there?" *flutter* Again, she tries to foist off the wine on him. Ah yes, the age old, get them drunk and take advantage ploy. R'kan wriggles his fingers goodbye to his new Friend, and attention returns fully to Anki, nodding with satisfaction. "I think that one responds well enough to a good ego stroking," Note: /Ego/-stroking, "and he does melt ever-so-easily." A nod to the Candidate, though perhaps misinterpreting her metaphor, smiling gently, "He does, doesn't he?" Karnie leans in, craning his ears, then eyes widen with skepticism. "You're /kidding/," the man accuses, face pulled downwards a bit. "No... Really?" Anki whispers "Don't worry, my dear. Get him to shut up and you're in for quite a nice time. Of course, getting him to shut up /will/ be a challenge." to you. Anki inclines her head sagely. "I kid you not. Don't let anyone tell you that everyone that knits is an effete plaything." Pasting an attempt at an innocent smile on her lips, she points past his shoulder at poor Fyne. "Look, R'kan. Young love. Isn't it ever so sweet? Can you imagine being that young again?" she purrs, eyes hopelessly filled with stars. Arawn chuckles lightly; he quips towards Kishairyn, "One can certainly hope not...being always the same, bah." He glances over towards the little boy and the seductive (or trying to be!) Taire. "What do you think? Think she'll snare him?" Menacion shrugs. "I suppose he couldn't stay an innocent little boy forever." No matter how hard he tries. "Don't hold your breath waiting, in that case, or try and follow me around." He responds wryly. "It isn't going to happen." He raises a brow at Taire. "Oh dear. I hope she's not trying to get Fyne drunk..." Kishairyn snorts softly. "Come on, Menace. If I'd laid bets on this candidate group, I'd have lost big: would have pegged you for causing such a scene first." She shakes her head, then frowns. "Is that ... allowed?" That ever-so-potent word. She purses her lips then, glancing from Arawn to the pair and back again. "Well, I wouldn't lay odds on it ..." Fynelox tries not to spill the wine, that would be bad especially if it ended up all over Taire. He peers into the glass rather skeptically for a moment before sniffing it slightly. Interesting. If there's anything Fyne needs to learn to do, that would be to relax. High-strung young man one might say. "You don't say... well, guess there's no harm in trying." Famous last words. Looking up at Taire once more, he shrugs and manages a sheepish smile for her before lifting the glass to his lips and takes a swallow. His hazel eyes suddenly blink furiously as the alcohol takes a bite, the taste odd on his tongue. "Whoa. That's a lot different than juice." The herder turned candidate still turns red at Taire's sudden mimicking of Kishairyn's usual speech to him, nothing has changed much there. He takes another sip though. "It's not bad." Warm...that's what it feels like, but that's just from blushing...right? R'kan giggles at Anki, blushing prettily as he shakes his head. "Oh, shards, I wouldn't dream it. After all... even if he was a virgin before Siani, some of Yevgeth /must/ have rubbed off..." A twinkle comes in his eyes. Of course he's that perceptive. Either that, or V'len just gives too much away. Probably the latter, despite Karnie's uncanny psychic abilities--cough. Following Anki's finger, he spies the pair for a moment before snickering. "The boy looks positively panicked." Awww... Arawn chuckles softly at Kishairyn, "I wouldn't know, personally, as I don't know him very well." He nods towards Menacion, before turning back to Taire and Fynelox, nudging Kishairyn, "Look at that. She might get him drunk." Luckily for R'kan, Anki isn't quite drooling on his outfit. "They look so /sweet/! she explains again, shaking her head as she leads the bronzer back to the Candidate knot. "Speaking of which, I have another outfit that I want you to try on. If you think you dare. Thanks for the dance, it was wonderful!" Even if she did have to lead herself. "Quick, everyone, six to one that Fyne'll blush himself to death before Taire can do anything significant!" Menacion snorts. "Me? You definitely would have lost that bet. I run. Fast. I know better than to back myself into corners. And besides...Fyne's the one who got himself into this mess." And he'll have to get himself out. "Nah. I think Fyne's sure to find some escape. All else failing, some nosy rider will probably break the two apart before..." Menace doesn't finish the thought. Taire dithers a moment before she stretches a hand out to tickle and pick at his shoulder, fingers itching to walk their way up to his neck, but not quite at that point yet. "Aye... but just keep a'drinking it, Fynelox. You'll get used to it, and then never wanna let another thing pass you lips... well, almost anything." Then comes the mischievous, yet coy peep from beyond lowered lashes to him. "Ohhhh, it'll warm you fine." Kishairyn chuckles softly, lifting a brow. "Oh? Very good idea, Menace ... I'll keep an eye out, distract anyone who might interrupt them?" Though at first a plan, it is offered as a suggestion. She peers at him darkly. "One day, I will see you in a corner, and I will enjoy looking on," she predicts. She hisses at Anki, "shhh! Careful ..." She grins at Arawn. "He's a cute kid. And ... so I saw. I swear, I didn't teach her that." Indeed--it would be a shame to ruin R'kan's pretty outfit at this stage in the game. "Oh, you're right... And that girl's coming on /very/ strong," he observes, grinning. "I think someone should swoop in and rescue him before she gets the lad thoroughly inebriated... Though I don't think my ministrations would be appreciated. I'd love to see her reaction, though, if some other girl went up and just danced him away." Hint hint, Anki. Arawn chuckles lightly, and nods at Kishairyn, "Do that. I'll help..." Help distract, or help watch Menacion in a corner, it's hard to say. He turns towards Taire, and then grins at Kishairyn, "You didn't? Really, now?" "If you're going to distract anyone, take pity on Fyne and distract Taire." Menace responds, rolling his eyes. "You may see me in corners, but I sure won't be cornered. I always have an escape route in mind." Oy. Their new obsession? Seeing him cornered. And the rest of him shaved. Hardly an improvement in his circumstances. "If Fyne looks like he's getting drunk, I think I'll drag him away. He'll thank me for it later." Fynelox flushes again, feeling a lot warmer indeed. His mind flashes back to the night before, when he first felt her fingers in his hair. Oh my, yes it's getting a lot warmer and oddly uncomfortable, yet somehow good all at the same time. Distractedly he takes another sip, getting used to the taste by now and not finding it all that bad at all. "I..I am feeling rather warm." His free hand comes up to tug at the collar of his tunic and he licks away the taste of wine off his lips again. "I don't mean to finish off your drink. Sure you don't want it back?" Kishairyn shakes her head. "Nope," she replies crisply, sliding to one side so as to position herself in a more advantageous location for rider watching. "Swear that girl's been drinking since before I did, so you can't blame me ..." she trails off with a wry smile. "But this is entertaining, Menace!" she protests. "I don't think so. Someone will outwit you in the end, mark my words ..." Arawn shakes his head slowly at Kishairyn, and grins, "I'm afraid I don't believe you," the man's tenor claims, "I think you taught her." With this, he nudges Kishairyn again, before chuckling at Menacion, "Let the boy be, he might learn something." Taire continues to look onto Fyne as if he is the sun and the moons and all the heavens all rolled up into one brilliant specimen of maleness. Rose-colored glasses and everything. Never mind the fact that it has been nearly a full turn since she has had the chance to get some good wine into her. Fingers begin to walk their way ever closer to his neck. "Ohhhh, no. Go ahead and take it all. Plenty more where that came from." Free hand comes out as if to direct the glass to his lips once more, utterly oblivious as to the scene they are creating for all and sundry to view. Let it never be said that Anki can't catch a hint, unfeminine block that she is. Swishing over to the two that're fascinating the other Candidates so much, she appears at Taire's side with a bright smile. "Hello there! Mind if I cut in here, Taire? Fynelox? I'd love a quick dance with you before I hide myself back to the barracks." Not to mention the fact that Taire'll find a moving target much more sporting. Kishairyn smiles faintly. "What if I gave you my word of honor I didn't teach her to try and get the poor boy drunk?" she inquires, tilting her head to one side. Something like a crestfallen look crosses her features as Anki intercedes. She didn't expect the scene to be broken up by one of their allies. Fynelox can feel goosebumps running from his shoulders to the back of his neck, a shivery feeling that's just making thinking straight a real difficulty. Or is that the wine he's been sipping at, the glass containing only another sip or two left. He can all but hear his heart beating loudly now, drowning out a lot of what Taire is saying, but he's becoming a lot more fascinated by the she's looking at him, leaning slightly, ever so slightly closer towards her. Then suddenly like the screech of a violin bow across untuned strings and all music coming to a halt, Anki's words cut in quite literally. The boy gives a rather nervous start, blinking up confusedly for a moment before blushing harder. Didn't think that was even possible. "Uh..what?" Ah, such eloquence. "Dance? With me? But.." R'kan grins as he's abandoned on the dance floor--it went to a good cause. Fynelox is blown a good luck kiss, and the boy saunters over towards the wine, pouring a glass as he steps alongside Menacion. "Whatcha think of that?" he asks, pointing to Anki's bold move on the poor, nervous candidate. A smile goes to the goateed candie, smirking. Go Anki, go Anki. Arawn stifles a laugh, and grins towards Kishairyn, "We-ell...I guess I'll believe you then." He sniffs as Anki approaches, and murmurs to Kishairyn, "Perhaps Taire will beat her up and go back to flirting with the young lad?" One can hope? "Good for her, I'd say." Menace responds, taking a sip of his drink. "Anki, that is. Never thought she would have been so nice to Fyne. Nice to know that someone else besides me thinks Taire's behavior is a little...too much." He shrugs. "I just hope Taire takes that...calmly. Philosophically at least." There might be some guarding to do, after all. Taire doesn't show any sign whatsoever as to responding to Anki. Oh no, now when she has dear, sweet, swoonable Fyne all to herself. Isn't he just the dreamiest? Doesn't he just put the sunset to shame? Isn't he simply the most da- With the speed of a striking snake, the ex-messenger twists her head around to regard Anki with utter and complete bafflement. Just who is she and why is she here? The woman must die. Ohhh. Wait. It�s Anki. Taire immediatly swoops in closer to the herder, "Ohhh, I don't think he wants to right now, Anki. Right, Fyne?..." Voice drops to a possessive growl, "/Right/, Fyne." Kishairyn smiles slightly. "I didn't say I would, I just asked what if I did ... but I honestly don't think it was me. After all, I never got anyone drunk." Which apparently makes a logical conclusion, to her. She shakes her head at Menacion's words, "oh, I think Taire is just ..." Growling? Her eyes widen, brows swooping upwards. "Maybe you have a point," she concedes. Arawn blinks, and blinks again. He peers at Taire, and murmurs to Kishairyn, "I think the poor boy's in trouble. If I were him, I'd probably just go along." Anki folds her arms over her chest, smile positively beaming at Taire. "Come on, you can have him back again later." When he's sober. "I promise to bring him back in one piece and with all the proper bits intact." Makes Fyne sound like one of those U-Assemble kits, doesn't she? "Please, Fyne," she implores sweetly. "Just a quick whirl and I can go home clutching my laurels." "Clutching your whats?" Fyne blurts, just a little loudly, sounding like he's definitely mishearing things and most definitely a little sloshed here. Can't expect a fourteen turn old to have that much of an alcohol tolerance. His cheeks are burning, and the thought of escape crosses his mind again, but he's sort of fenced in here, particularly since Taire's all but smack up against him. The growling sort of cuts into his haze like a knife though, suddenly feeling cold down to his toes. Hoo boy. "Uh..Uh.. Right, uh.. Taire. I mean..I don't know how to dance. Not well." He's seen it and some of the dancing is simple, but he really hasn't danced before. Hazel eyes are fastened to the younger girl again, slightly shaken. Menacion eyes the three in the corner. "Taire looks to be getting very possessive. Poor Fyne. I hope they don't rip his arms out of their sockets trying to get him for their own." Menace would intervene on Fyne's behalf, but he's not suicidal. Bad Move, Fyne. Pleading terpsichorean ignorance is just going to get you lesson offers. Quite possibly private lesson offers. Taire is suddenly feeing the desire to have a long, pointy object in her hand... and there it is -with Menacion. Knife, sword... it�s all good. Eyes narrow and acquire that feline lilt which is surprisingly effective despite this newly aged fifteen-turn-old's face, and most of this evil, fairly intoxicated, glare is cast onto Anki in all her jovial cheerfulness. If she had claws, nails, whatever... she would be embedding them in Fyne's hide. Mine. "See," she purrs to Anki. "He is perfectly happy where he is and we are getting along rather well." In the next moment, the girl is swinging to slide her slight figure before Fyne in an attempt to block any Anki-influence. Her gaze seeks out Fyne's, "I'd be happy to teach you how to dance, Fynie." Oh dear, now she has resorted to claiming endearments. "And you don't have to worry 'bout any clutching around /her/." Anki smoothes her skirt. "I'll teach you how, Fyne," she murmurs restfully. After all, her target is to get the poor boy somewhat sober, not to embarrass him by making him prance about with an older woman. "I'm sure you can spare him for a few moments, Taire, can't you?" she asks evenly. "After all, near-sisters should share everything, right?" Right. That, theoretically, includes Fyne. Tickling the poor man's ear, she bends over to whisper something only the two closest to her can hear and, smirking, stalks away, humming happily. Kishairyn gulps in a swift breath that sounds suspiciously as if she's going to burst out laughing. "What do you think? Should I hit one of them with a vase?" she murmurs, then pauses. And the question becomes, "which one?" And where in the world is she going to find a vase strong enough to do real damage? She winces. "I don't think Fyne understood that ..." she mutters to Arawn. Stifling a chuckle, Arawn nods towards Kishairyn, "I don't either." Oh, great. Does that make Anki and Taire, /Aiel/? Now who's going to lay a bridal wreathe and who's feet? Buuuut, stopping with that anachronistic line of thought, Arawn simply continues to blink, and grins at Kishairyn, "I think you should just leave it be." R'kan finds a seat, pulling a chair next to Menace and joining the rest of the spectators in making quiet jibes. "I don't think Anki would resort to that... Though it looks as if she might be able to overpower Taire, if the occasion presented itself." Hmm. There's the weight advantage, versus the... um... temptress advantage. R'kan, admittedly, doesn't know which one gets more points. Menacion ponders that. "I think there's enough potential for violence there without you inserting a vase into the mess. You just might inspire imitations, and we don't want to wreck the harperhall, now do we?" He thinks for another moment. "Well, Taire's the one he kissed. I'd say that gives her a considerable advantage there. Or maybe it's her great handicap." Kishairyn makes a face at Menace. "Really, a girl could be insulted by the sort of things you say ..." She regards him with soft ire for a moment ... but she has bigger fish to fry. She grins at R'kan. "I doubt it. Taire seems to be a dirty fighter if ever there was one." On the other hand, she has seen Anki bite someone. She sighs. "I suppose you're right, Arawn, but what I wouldn't give to be a voice in one of their ears." That is, unheard by the other. Taire's jaw actually drops at Anki's words, at least those that are whispered. They have a sobering effect on the girl more effective than any other home-brew. Eyes open as wide as marks and in the flash of an eye, she is backing away from Fyne as if he was some kind of bane to her very soul. "Shaffit!" She isn't mad about being 'found out', its just having her intentions spelled out to her in such a way and realizing them. It�s the Weyr. Corrupter that it is. It simply has to be. Mortified, and just now peeking up to spot all the faces turned their way, the girl manages a squeak, a brilliant shade of red taints her cheeks, and she considers just dying then and there. Just /what/ was she thinking? "I... Uh... I..." Stammering makes way for a desire to bolt. Fynelox isn't fairing much better, flushing red again, but that's not unusual. Just because he's finally and awkwardly starting to discover the troubles that hormones can bring doesn't mean that he's going to change completely overnight. But yes, Anki's words are somewhat sobering and it's with some relief that he finds Taire backing off a bit. Yet there's a slight hint of disappointment there too. Just a little. "What's wrong with dancing lessons?" That's the part he didn't get. Doh. Anki strides slowly back to her companions, a beatific smile on her face. "As hinted, so do I obey," she coos dulcetly, sinking down into a chair, peering at the fruits of her labor and finding it good. "Arawn, can you hand me a glass of that sparkle-wine if there's any still left? I think our dear, innocent Fyne will be staying just that for a few more days, at the least." She sighs lazily. Mission accomplished. Menacion looks innocent. "Me? Insult women? I would never do such a crass thing." Gee, he seems to be annoying most of the women tonight. One brow lifts, then the other at the reactions to Anki's comment. "I...don't want to know..." R'kan nods to Kishairyn, then raises a brow at the newest happenings and grinning at Menacion at the bout of Taire stuttering. "I was wrong," the man admits, giggling a little. "She," he points to Taire, "and he," of course, a finger jabbed in Fyne's direction, "are made for each other. The same nervous stammering and everything," he says, grinning. "Depends on what kind of dancing she had in mind!" the rider calls over. No sense no driving the stake in a little deeper. Taire continues to look rather abashed before the others, fingers plucking at the scraggly threads that are beginning to peel away from her dress. As teeth bite at the bottom of her lip, she moves to ease out the door for a hasty retreat -but not before snagging a skin of wine to tide over her being rather mortified. Arawn chuckles lightly; he shakes his head to himself, and nudges Kishairyn, "I think it's time for us to leave, before ... something happens." His voice is amused, as he turns to Kishairyn, "Shall we? I'll catch a rider for you." The Pern version of calling a cab? "Poor mites," Kishairyn murmurs softly, clucking her tongue against her teeth and shaking her head. "A good effort for now, Anki ... but who knows what damage has been done?" A yawn escapes her. "Watching everyone else flutter has done me in," she admits with a smile for Arawn. "Oh, but I want to see ..." But after another yawn, she nods. "Would you?" she inquires. "Have a lovely evening, all ..." Arawn chuckles softly, "Of course I would." His voice is amused, and he calls to Fynelox, "Take my advice. Get Taire flowers, and tell her she's attractive." That'll help. A little. Maybe. Maybe not. Nudging Kishairyn, he slips out. Anki has a rider. See, he's sitting right next to her. "R'kan, be a sweetie and give me a lift back to the Weyr too, please? I'm rather tired too and I'm really not in the mood to stick around whilst Fynelox regains consciousness there," she teases, straightening just after Kishairyn. Kishairyn leaves the wonderful acoustics of the auditorium for the entry hall. Fynelox finds himself standing by himself in a corner. So much for his first steps into real social interaction. Placing the glass down rather gingerly at the nearest table for the drudges to take, he flicks a look over at some of the older Candidates, mayhaps only a certain one that could be taken for...a glare? Then he looks away and heads out of the hall, hands thrust into the pockets of his trousers, a definite black storm cloud hanging over his head. R'kan grins and nods to Anki, watching the others leave with the barest of grins. "Oh dear... They're all leaving. Of course, Anki, I'll take you home. Menace, wanna ride?" Of course he does. They all do. Someone has to be Responsible and keep an Eye on them, after all. "They're sulking," Anki informs them haughtily. "I just hope they get over being angry at me soon. Mrgh. C'mon, Menace. Just think of your warm cot." She'll think of the joyful time to be had dodging Nial whilst she undresses. "Thanks, R'kan, you're an absolute sweetie, you know that?" Menacion eyes the proceedings with a certain degree of amusement. "Everyone's heading back to the Weyr, then?" He peers curiously at Fyne. Hrmm...the boy's acting stranger and stranger. "Sure. It's a long walk back..." Pause. "But do you have to go *between*?" R'kan raises a brow at Menace. "Would you rather I fly Maraith through really thin, really cold air for a half an hour, or go through constant, windless cold for three seconds?" The answer is apparant, at least to R'kan. "C'mon, let's go." And with a swish of oh-so-tight pants, the rider leaves the auditorium, and the party, behind. [Log Ends] Back to Fort Weyr Logs |