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Harper's Tale 2 - Sunday, June 16, 2002, 7:24 PM

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Above, Sidramuntalath appears from the black hole that is ::between::, a sudden celestial presence in the sky.
Above, Sidramuntalath glides gracefully down to the Courtyard.
Sidramuntalath glides gracefully down and settles in the Courtyard.
Slithering down the straps-ladder, Wyn slides from Vorkoroth's neck and gently touches earth.
Above, Zhesteth appears out of ::between::, bugling a bubbly greeting to the inhabitants of this new location.
Sii'kyn slides down the black hole -- that is, slithers down Sidramuntalath's neck to thud lightly on the ground.

You walk up a few small steps and pass into the Hold through the great doors.
You open a door labelled The Flying Mug and pass through.

Wyn paces into the Mug with an air of one returning to a favoured old haunt after a few turns away. Which isn't much more than a slight exaggeration, come to think about it. Petite bluerider pauses slightly in the doorway, doing a little bit of recon on the joint. "Looks like there's a decently sized table over there," she points out to her wingmates.

All darkness and scowls, Mister Scarred-Face himself stalks through the door, after his fellow weyrling wingsecond. Silver-hemmed cloak dusts the ground behind him, and even though he's short, his pure muscular presence seems.. ominous, until a smile cracks his face and lights up silvern eyes. "Very nice. Lem? Snag me a good vintage of a.. er. Tillek Retsina? Yes? Thanks." Sii'kyn flashes a dimpled smile, and settles down onto a seat.

Vorkoroth> Zhesteth lounges in the sun, rumbling a greeting for the gold before watching the talking humanpeople idly. Her eyes swirl, pondering this idea of 'flying straight'. After all, if the scenery is nice between here and Ista Weyr, imagine how much there's gotta be between here and High Reaches. Her tail flicks quietly, and she stretches for juuust a moment.

Maudia slips into the comforting chuckle of the 'Mug, the tinkling of glasses and faint laughter drawing her in. Once there, she curls up near a corner with a blanket strewn over shoulders, sniffling and sneezing over a glass of citrus juice. Weak smiles are offered to the strangers arranged throughout the weyr as she drowns her sickness in her glass of fruit juice.

Scrawny legs dangling from an impossibly high stool, the pixie-'Phincrafter Yythara peers over glass' rim at the sudden throng of young 'Riders bursting into the room. Suddenly and unnaturally self-conscious, the fair-haired girl gives her tunic a good smoothing and her squalling flizzen a good reprimanding hiss. Be good. 'Riders!

Maudia walks in from the great hall.

Wyn lets Sii'kyn do the appropriate quasi-menacing casing of the joint. She'll settle for looking her specialty of cool, controlled and competant, Trinity of the Matrix-ish Maelstromers, as she slips into a seat at the chosen table. "Benden white, if you will, Lem," she tacks on in a bland alto that still manages to be somewhat friendly. And Yythara even gets a little nod!

Yythara is properly given a long, appraising glance. Sii'kyn quietly watches as Lem bustles with his double-shot of Retsina. The liquid, a nice pale-golden color, is swirled with abandon. "Why are we here, again, Wyn?" is quietly, almost impatiently queried, before he totally relaxes, almost lounging against the chair. Tinted riding glasses are first lowered as silver gaze pins on his clutchmate, before they're taken off altogether. Matrix-ish? Nah. Not Ike. He looks the part to a perfect T, but his thoughts could be pure Star Wars: Pretty. What do we blow up first?

Yythara coos lightly to herself as she slips with an unceremonial flop from her stool, using the pretenses of securing another glass of redfruit juice to slip into a closer seat. Silent she may be, but a gossip nonetheless. The cool nods and glances from the riderly group arise a rare flush of importance in the girl. Little blue Wes clicks an inquiry from his position- knotted in the girl's hair.

Vorkoroth> Sidramuntalath shrugs his shoulders in a smooth ripple of muscles and hide. Softly whirling eyes focus, and stoic brown rumbles an assent to the gold and greens. Zhest, his beloved, insane, clutchsib, is given a patient eyeballing, before he nearly sprawls in contented-ness in the hot sun. Mrrowl. Note To Self: Ask Rider To Move Here.

So who does that make Lhana? Well, I suppose it would help if her player had actually ever seen the Matrix. Cough. As it is, she just strides over to her chair, the picture of far-too coolness before sliding into a chair oh-so gracefully. "Lem," she says, her voice dropped to a sexy, too-cool contralto, "Give me...whatever they're having." Never mind that they're getting two different things. She just wants something, shardit! Her Royal Badness can't be trifled with such details.

Resani walks in from the great hall.
Naomi bounces in from the great hall.
Yulianna ambles in from the great hall.
M'er shimmies, shakes, and boogies in from the great hall.

Maudia cuddles up within the folds of said blanket, lips edges dancing in a smile towards the younger girl - Yythara - who seems to know the rest of these people. " Hey," she half-sneezes, before offering an unappealing dripping hand. " I'm Maude."

Well, since we don't know what Ike's thinking, then WynPlayer will keep her Matrix motif. Because Trinity is cool. But in other news, Wyn takes her glass of wine from Lem with a little nod that the old bartender knows well means 'Thanks' in the subtle language of Wynnish. Bluerider then favours Lhana with a dryly amused look, noting that "They have good Paradisean reds here," with a slight air of a connoisieur. Benden born, you know. Sii'kyn gets another little smile. "Well, I cannot speak for you, but I am here because I'd like to spend an afternoon slacking that doesn't involve physical activity."

Yulianna all but bounces in (beware the Yulianna who bounces...oy) and clings to M'er's arm as soon as they're through the door, making a grab for Naomi's arm, as well. "Oh, it's been -ages- since I was here last! It's been...I think...four turns! I've hardly left the Weyr to get out, ya' know! An' 'course I wasn't allowed to drink then, an' -'course- I'll give ya' a kiss for yer turnday, M'er." She eyes him up and down a moment, and shoots him a wink, "An' if yer -really- nice I'll give ya' somethin' better, too. But ya' have to both tell me what I should drink." she adds to Naomi, nodding toward the bar and letting her eyes travel around the Mug a moment. "I've never had much..." she adds lightly, eyes fastening on Sii'kyn for a brief moment, before continuing around the room.

Resani ambles into the 'Mug, looking weary. Red tresses of hair hang limp around a chalky face, her delicate lips set into a frown and she hangs slightly limp. it's obvious that she's trying not to drag her feet as she lumbers quite ungracefully to a stool. She sits heavily with a sigh, ordering a mug of klah in a hardly audible grumble. Azure eyes are narrowed in discomfort. Sleep. All she wants is sleep.

Aurelius blinks in from ::between::!

Saein blinks in from ::between:: in a flash of blue and silver.

Resani whistles to Saein, who glides over and lands on Resani's shoulder with a chirp.

Sii'kyn quietly smirks over at Lhana. "Dearheart," he nearly purrs out, "I suggest you not attempt to drink what I'm drinking unless you have a gullet of steel." His Retsina is thrown back in one gulp. Jaw clenches, eyes squeeze shut. "That's.. shelling good. Bring me the bottle, Lem?" He'll go through it all, really. Tinted 'goggles are played with, one hand reaching up to scratch along the gashed-side of his face. Impassively, the brownling gazes at the Istan troupe. Ha. If Wyn's Trinity, Ike can't be Neo -- and he's the perfect Neo. Really. He is... Think about it. "Guns. Lots of guns." Perfect Ike-quote!... if guns were IC. Sulk. "Slacking? Aw, Wyn, slacking's no fun. I say we get sloshed." Star Wars, Matrix, and Buffy. He's shifting into SpIke. And someone really needs to shut IkePlayer up, and quickly...

Yythara shies from the half-cough-half-greeting, ambered eyes falling upon the offered handshake with an air of great suspicion. It is decided that politeness cannot override illness, and the wilting hand is largely ignored. "'Llo, Maude. I'm Yythara." Her gaze flashes once more to the enterance, widening as the population of the 'Mug increases ever more. Maudia is considered once more, "What's wrong with ya?" Let's not be brash now...

Lhana just gives Wyn a little glare. She said she didn't want to be trifled with details! Well, okay, she didn't actually say that aloud, but it was implied. Which is all she really ought to have to do, don't you think? "Thank you," she says, icily, "but I already placed my order." Sort of. Yulianna's bounciness just earns her a cool look. You'd never see Lhana being that undignified. At least, she doesn't want anyone to imagine so at the moment. Sii'kyn can have a glare, too, for all his helpfulness. Nobody but nobody gives Lhana advice. Ever. They ought to know that by now. A drink hits the table, thankfully not whatever Sii'kyn's having. Benden White is more recognizeable, anyhow. The Istans, in general, just get a look. They have brought no Men that she can see. Anyone who comes Not Bearing Men may as well not have come at all.

M'er grins to Yulianna, "Ooo, something better than a kiss?" You have to admit, that greenrider is cute. In a little-kid, oblivious way. "You should drink something, something good," says M'er vehemently. "And I have been here a few times. I like to come in the morning." Especially when he's proddy. The 'Mug is the greatest place to flirt with drunken slobs who have no clue that M'er is 1.) a greenrider, and 2.) male.

"It's smooth going down," is Wyn's pronouncement on the retsina, with just a touch of former-Healerly derision for the substance's effects on humans. "But has a regrettable tendancy to destroy membranes coming back up." Mmm, lovely image. Her white wine is sipped regardless, held easily in one hand. Certainly not lazily, of course. Wyn's laziness was lost in a tragic accident at the age of eight. And Lhana is favoured with a saintly smile. Wyn appears to be fond of making female greenriders smack her, it seems. "A 32nd for your thoughts?" she baits the 'Reaches greener. "You seem a trifle..." Pause, before dry alto forms the word "Edgy."

Maudia sweeps blanket from hand, revealing her a large mass of frizz from underneath. " Aw, I just hafe a bit of a cold. I was looking for some shells on the beach last night, it was a little chilly - you know how it is," she nods down towards the knot on the girl's shoulder. Legs are leaned on the top of some chair as she leans back on her stool, fruit juice in hand, and the slosh of juice in tummy. " Nice to meet you, though. Awful lot of 'riders about, wouldn't you say?"

Naomi has disconnected.

Yulianna nods quickly to M'er, "Somethin' -much- better'n' a kiss. Now...what should I drink? Hannah says my drinkin' somethin' won't hurt Miyakath's eggs, so I'm gonna live it up while we're here. What about...somethin'...um...with...er...somethin' strong. Is wine strong?" She clings a little more tightly to M'er, spotting Lhana's less-than-friendly glance with a dazzling smile of her own. Oh...she can be -much- more undignified than this...and by the looks of it intends to be. So she hauls M'er toward the nearest table...that is...the nearest table to the other riders...and nudges him toward a chair, looping a chair leg with one foot and tugging it out from the table, turning it 180-degrees with a flourish, and dropping to straddle it, leaning on the backrest. "Nao! What'll ya' have? I'll pay! It's all on me tonight." well...for her and M'er and Naomi, anyway.

Sii'kyn suddenly eyes Lhana, jumps to his feet, and runs backwards three steps - without spilling a drop of his Retsina. "She's proddy!" is bellowed on the top of formidable lungs. That's almost as bad as S'titch proddy. Which Ike hasn't had to deal with. Thank Faranth. Black leather cloak ripples about skintight breeches, silvern circlets observing Lhana half-critically, half-fearful.

"Yeh," is Yythara's profound insight. "I en't seen so many 'round 'ere in a long while." Not saying that Yythara's been in the Istan area for a 'long while', exactly. Perhaps time melds more sparsely at the age of thirteen turns. Ahem. We digress. At the cry of 'proddy' from the accusing browner, Ytha jumps a good foot from her seat. Naught but bad things has this little 'phincrafter heard. Lhana gets a fear-tinged glance.

..has this 'phincrafter heard about proddiness....

Vorkoroth> Sidramuntalath jumps into the air, and lands with legs splayed. Quite amusing. He eyes Zhest's hide very, very carefully, and sidles about to put Vor in between him and the green. Proddy? Proddy Zhest? Please. No. Say that his slightly batty rider's insane and wrong...

M'er has disconnected.

Resani takes the klah with a half-hearted smile, eyes glazed over at the sight of relief. Porcelain hands grip the cup like a lifeline. She sways her feet back and forth in a childish manner but snaps to attention at the bellowing noise. What is said doesn't matter to her, it just rings around her skull for awhile. She moans, resting her head upon the table. Sleeeep. Mrrr. With a sigh, she lifts her head, azure gaze sweeping across the many people as she looks for a familir face to cling to with all the comotion bustling around.

The housekeeper arrives to cart Naomi off to bed.

Vorkoroth> Sidramuntalath shoots a Glance at Miyakath. Proddiness is bad. Now, flights -- flights are so very nice. Mrrrrowrl. But proddy greens are to be feared. And proddy golds, too.. very much feared.

Maudia nods astutely - then hears the comment with wide eyes. " What the ?" her voice trails with apprehension, which is only accented by her sniffs and snuffles. She sort of backs as far away from the greenrider as possible, leaning against the bar with the look of a trapped deer in her wide eyes. " Stupid, bloody 'riders. Why can't they ever just be normal?" Of course, this is said rather quietly - getting devoured by hungry greenriders isn't big on her to-do list.

Lhana sips at her wine, only too obviously Not a Big Drinker. As such, she allows any discussion of wine and other beverages to slide smoothly beneath her attention. Her gaze flits around the room lazily before locking back over at Wyn in a glare. "What are you - " she's interrupted, of course, by Ike's sudden pronouncement, which quite suddenly causes her to spill several drops of her Benden White. "What the - ?? Good Faranth, I am not!" she cries, giving Sii'kyn a look that more than borders on insulted. Honestly, can't a decent greenrider glare at a few people without being declared proddy anymore? "And keep your voice down," she hisses at him, a flush of embarrassment hitting her cheeks. She /knew/ they shouldn't have invited Sii'kyn along. A quick glance around reveals everyone to be looking at her, as her flush deepens. "I'm not, I'm not. By the sharding First Egg, man!"

The housekeeper arrives to cart M'er off to bed.

Vorkoroth> Zhesteth blinks, her eyes suddenly widening. Did she become proddified without anyone telling her? Her neck swivels around rapidly as she eyes her own hide. Well, she's certainly sparkling more than usual in the Istan sunlight, but that could be just coincidence. No, no glowing that she can see, at least...not yet. So what is Lhana suddenly so upset about?

Yulianna props her chin up on the palm of her hand and turns slowly to eye the 'Reachians at the brownrider's li'l outburst, looking completely nonplussed. Honestly, if the green was really proddy, everyone -knows- she'd be confined to the Weyr. Ahem. But then, as her company suddenly seems to lose it's enthusiasm for any kind of conversation (read as: they all just fell off the planet), she shifts to her feet and promptly steps over to offer Sii'kyn a pat on the shoulder, "No need to worry--the -really- bad part's not 'til she gets ya' back to her weyr." She grins, wrinkling her nose a bit in amusement and nodding toward the nearest empty chair. "Mind if I sit?" she asks--more of Wyn and Lhana than the panicking male. Feh...males!

"I'm sure the entire tavern is glad of hearing that news, Ike," is Wyn's dry reassurance, patting briefly at Sii'kyn's vacated seat. Before returning to looking Saintly and Understanding (TM) in Lhana's direction, after an attempt at essaying a look of 'Pardon the insanity of my wingmates' to the rest of the bar. "Oh come now, Lhan, it's not like it's that horrid a fate. You, after all, are not S'titch."

Yythara tears her impudent stare from the greenrider, focusing with sudden, apt attention on the weathered table before her. "So, uhm..." the girl scrabbles for conversation with her new, if sniffling, acquaintence, rather taken aback by the girl's verbal attack of the Ridertypes.

And Wyn also gives Yulianna a welcoming nod, and a pat to another of the free chairs. Yup.

Resani's almost predatory gaze falls upon Yythara. Ah, yes...from the SeaCliffs feast. She remembers, and remembers well. With a long gulp from her klah, the senses of the readhead arouse into a normal state, free of the haze of before. Though the pangs for sleep will come again, they're not here now and that's all that matters to Resani. She gets up, confidence and defiance raidtating unnessacarily from her. Saein, the blue 'lizard, feeds upon this and he puffs up proudly upon the shoulder of his humanpet. Resani, meanwhile, takes a seat beside Yythara with a warm smile, "Yythara," is her greeting, which is slightly bland but her happy tone makes up for the lack of words.

Sii'kyn is still much-wary. He shucks off his cloak, and glares at white arms. "Okay, then," he mutters. "I need a tan." Lhana - still being warily eyeballed - is snorted at, before he gingerly returns to his seat, lounging. Stiffly. Then, he stares at Yules for a long, long moment. "Go 'head and sit, goldrider," he mumbles. "S'titch. Gah. Please, no, I don't want to think of a proddy S'titch." He half-whimpers, before turning on the Big Bad and scowling, returning to introspective BeenRamRubbed portion of his personality. "I think I want to cut my hair. Lhana? Would you cut it for me, dearlin'?" Hopeful silver gaze flicks upwards. He's going to let her cut his hair. Ultimate peace-offering, dude.

Lhana turns to give Wyn only her fiercest glare. She's always been a bit too dense to realize when she's being baited. "Of course it's not that horrid a fate," she says to Wyn, using measured, icy tones. "But that doesn't mean that I actually am. And even if I were, I /don't/ care to have it broadcast throughout the entire Mug." This last directed not-so subtlely at Sii'kyn, of course. His offer of a haircut is met with raised eyebrows. He's going to let her cut his hair when she's mad at him? He is one brave dude. "Sure," she says, her tone fairly flat. "Do you want it done now?"

Yulianna nods her thanks to Wyn, and then to Sii'kyn, though she looks about ready to laugh just by looking at him, and does her best to keep from doing so. "Who says I'm a gol--er...oh. Right. Yulianna, rider of gold Miyakath of Ista Weyr." she offers formally--likely for the first time in her life...just out of pure stubborness. "Ya' must all be from...Fort then?" she asks, glancing around the table. After all...Fort's the next closest Weyr, so it would stand to reason, wouldn't it? Of course, the mention of cutting hair has her -all- interested, cutting her own hair being her favorite past time, and she quickly draws a dagger from her boot, "I've got a knife, if ya' want, but maybe cuttin' it at the table may not be the best idea. Not that yer hair wouldn't taste good!" she quickly, and tactfully adds to Sii'kyn.

Yythara actually leans towards the ill woman- the redhead is eyed with a subtle combination of terror and curiousity. Wes offers a whistling bugle to the girl's blue, opaldescent orbs and hooked snout peeking from her wheaten tresses. "'Llo...'Sani." Let's hope she correctly remembered the girl's title. "'Ow may I help you?" Without waiting for Resani's reply, the dolphincrafter drinks deeply from her glass of juice, catching a dribble as it ticks its way down her chin.

"Yulianna, hn?" A pause, and then Sii'kyn brightens. "Is your cousin Mimi?" He thinks they're related. A pause. "No, High Reaches." He detatches his knot, and dangles the black-and-blue mass at the golder, before re-attatching it. "And I doubt even my hair would taste good." He pauses, and glances at Lhana, pondering for a moment. "If you want?" is offered, hesitantly. Watch Ike Get In Hot Water. Watch Ike Try To Cool It Down. Watch Ike Bawl After His Precious Hair Is Chopped Off By A Malicious Greenrider. Snicker.

Wyn, alas, is impervious to most forms of glares, including Lhana-glares. In fact, only Ike knows her real weakness. Which, as the Omnipotent Narrator, I can tell you is Gar cider. Wyn, meanwhile, breaks off from looking serenely at Lhana to offer Sii'kyn a vague smirk. "And the Infirmary is just across the way if she gets creative with her scissors... ah, High Reaches, actually," she notes to Yulianna. "Well met, and I would be Wyn, blue Vorkoroth's coconspirator... You're due to be the next pair to clutch, correct?"

From the top of her cock-kneed position, Maudia notices the other non-rider girl - Resani - entering the 'Mug. " Hullo," she says, giving a finger wriggle, other hand laced up with the uneven glass of fruit juice. She sneezes yet again, to show her sickness factor, which seems to be dying as people begin to gather - or she just may be an expert in ignoring she sick. She gets out a tissue from her pocket, blows, and sticks it back in. " So, what's going on?"

Lhana shakes her head. "High Reaches. I'm Lhana, rider of Green Zhesteth." As if that weren't painfully obvious right about now. The dagger gets a wide-eyed, almost scandalized sort of look. "A knife?" she demands, looking positively shocked. "You would take a knife to your hair?!" Blasphemy! Sacrilege! Hair damage! She refrains, however, from ordering Yulianna to put that thing away right this instant, and rather rolls her eyes at Wyn. "For goodness' sake, Wyn - I wouldn't do something like that." However, the look she gives Ike is disturbingly sweet and innocent for someone who was just dealing out glares and snappish remarks without prejudice. She reaches into a side pouch she just happens to have with her, producing a pair of pristine, metal scissors and a sparkly, pink comb. Once a haircutter, always a haircutter, it seems. "I'll just do it now, if you don't mind." Never mind if hair doesn't taste good. That's what drudges are for, after all.

Resani chuckles softly to Yythara, a smirk lingering upon the ghostly face. Her attention is drawing to Maudia as the hello is offered and before a hand is extended to shake it is quickly pulled back in fear of catching any sickness. She blinks slowly. "Hey there, what's wrong with ya?" she asks with another blink and a wary smile. Saein chortles to the other blue, fanning his wings proudly and then hops upon the table, strutting around in circles as if he owns the place. Resani takes no mind, so he continues.

Yulianna nods, and then blushes as the black and blue is dangled before her. Two wrong guesses and she hasn't even had a bit of wine yet. Oy! "High Reaches, right, shoulda known." What a stunning shade of magenta that is...especially on a red-head. Ahem. She offers a quick nod to Wyn and a somewhat deflated, "Well met, Wyn, Lhana." To Sii'kyn she manages a nod, regaining her steam quickly enough, "Aye, that's right...Mimi's my cousin. An'...an'...N'ano. An'...well...aye." Ahem. Way to make a fool of yourself in front of else-Weyrers, Yuli. In any case she's all but squirming. "Well...if it's sharp enough it..." the knife, of course, not the cousin. And of course by now it seems that the table is growing...or Yuli is shrinking...in any case, she's sinking lower and lower in her chair, eyes on the table. So she's not exactly the fashion-queen of the Weyr...or of anywhere for that matter...

Zia strides in from the great hall.

Silmarillion-The Musical Egg shatters into a thousand fragments, leaving its occupant out in the open.

Still the Prettiest Gold Hatchling's cries turn joyous, and she turns towards Wyn, creeling piteously.

Still the Prettiest Gold Hatchling looks at you with whirling eyes. You have Impressed her.

Zia trots in, shrugging off her outer layer and slinging her belongings sloppily over a chair. She's ho-ome! "Wyn, Ike, Lhana - You're all in grey poop now. I can't believe you came to Ista without me - Ten more seconds, I swear, and Diu would've eaten enough and been ready to fly. 'S the last time I ever wait for you lot." There's a pause as Wyn's egg shatters and the Gold Impresses, leaving Zia standing, for the most part, speechless. "And a gold. Well, don't you just hate 'er.. A redfruit juice, please."

Yythara releases Wes, who launches into the air.

Yythara goes home.

" Wrong with me?" Maudia pushes herself up, finishing off the last of her juice with a flourish of hand. " Nothing's wrong with me, I don't know what you're talking about. What's wrong with you?" Eyebrow is raised at the redhead, hand scrunch her wild 'fro-hair. " What a question to ask a person. Um, want this cup after me?" Some would say she had manners. Really.

Still the Prettiest Gold Hatchling notices Yulianna looking at her.

Sii'kyn glances at Zia, then at Wyn, then at the gold, then at Lhana. He leans back against the back of his seat, untangles his long braid, and brushes it out with his fingers. He pauses, says a tiny little prayer, and squeezes his eyes shut. "Oh, be quiet, Zia," he calmly says.

Laviira walks in from the great hall.

Laviira walks out.

Saien chortles to the new Gold, fanning his wings in happiness. Resani, on the other hand, keeps her blue gaze upon Maudia and a hand over her cup of klah. "Oh. Yes. Right. You're not contagiously sick. Oh no. Thought never crossed my mind," a 'brow is raised slowly. Still, she leans backward in her chair, silently scooting a bit farther and farther every so often. Sooo...she begins to drift to unconcious conversation, "You are?" she asks, blinking, "I'm Resani, myself," a small grin crosses her face.

Brid walks in from the great hall.

Wyn eyes the newly-hatched queen with an odd look. One part 'Cooooool', one part 'There goes my dreams of a full night's rest'. In any case, she's quick to avail herself of the bowl of scraps brought over by a coo'ing drudge and proceeds to calmly begin stuffing the wee beastie as she chats, blandly still. "Mmm, glad to see you showed up at last, however, Zia," she says simply. Wyn? Repentant about anything? Not in the cards, alas.

Zia rolls her eyes at Ike. "Someone must be glowing today, Ikareeno. Oh, wait, Ram doesn't glow - Maybe you're just a jerk." Harsh, yes, but Z doesn't appear to be in the best of moods. She slides her backside onto a chair by Resani, canting her head towards the attractive young woman before wiggling closer. "'Lo again, dear. Anything interesting happening down here I should know about?" Wyn gets a cross between a leer and a grin - She always had a soft spot for someone so efficient and no-nonsense, after all.

Brid has disconnected.

Lhana could care less if anyone's feelings are hurt. Anyone who would cut their hair with a knife isn't worth an apology, anyway. Well, not in her mind, anyway. She stands and strides oh-so smoothly over to Ike. "Hello, Zia," she greets, far too brightly. "Ike's agreed to let me - " The newly hatched gold gets a stare. "Oh. Congrats, Wyn." Maybe now she'll be too busy to bait Lhana any more. Then, without so much as a word of warning, she grasps a long strand of Sii'kyn's hair and promptly hacks it off. Ha! There's no going back now! Zia's rudeness is given a rather approving smile, before she grabs another strand and hacks it off, too, with a decidedly vicious air. She'll show him, she will.

D'baji gambols in from the great hall.

Maudia notices the scuffle away from her sitting spot - but decides to ignore it, anyways. " Maudia, nice to meet you." Long-fingered hand is offered once more, along with lopsided smile. Stuffy nose is ignored, for now. Her blanket drifts down her shoulders to waist, as if waiting to be cast aside. She orders another glass of citrus juice, this time having a bit of booze spilled in it, and sips accordingly.

Resani leans her chair back gracefully to meet Zia's, "Well hello there, Zia, dear bluerider," she smirks playfully, craning her head from her backwards position to look at the bluerider when she talks to her. Saein, remembering his humanpet's friend creels and takes flight, landing upon Zia's shoulder with a chirp. Resani chuckles, "Interesting things? Around /me/? Not a chance, Zia."

Yulianna's jaw drops as the browner's hair is mercilessly hacked into and she just sits gaping with a sort of transfixed horror. Good Bob...she didn't really just do that...couldn't have. Slowly a little motion takes over and Yuli manages a little shake of her head. But then, she's being neatly and efficiently snubbed and ignored. Too bad she's in a bit too much shock (and too red and sinking too far into her her chair) to actually notice her fellow Istan arrive.

Kurt stalks in from the great hall.

Kurt stalks through a door into the great hall.

Resani presses her chair forward and meets Maudia's hand with a weak shake, secretly wiping her hand off upon her leg under the table. Getting sick scares her greatly. As D'baji enters, she gives a wave to the friendly face and a warm smile to accompany it. Then, returning to her klah, she takes a long swig and sighs, leaning back into her chair casually.

Sii'kyn cringes, and keeps his eyes shut. However, he does grab his Retsina and take a swig, directly from the bottle. Without his eyes open. Talent. He doesn't say a /word/, just submits himself to his, uh, 'punishment'. "Trajan's going to kill me," being the only words stated, muttered. "He's going to slice me open and roast my corpse in the weyrkitchen's hearth." His poor, beautiful hair.

The housekeeper arrives to cart Brid off to bed.

D'baji is all happy and such, entering with a little Trudeau-esque pirouette, peeking around the tavern of sorts, finding the bar, and heading thataway with a skipping stride, and waving to just about everyone whether he knows them or not. Ah, the joys of bronzeriders in spring...

Zia watches Resani carefully, eyes flashing warily towards the Istan Bronzerider. With a mild scowl, she edges closer to the woman and pull something small from her pocket. "Look, I picked something up for you on the way here! I thought you might like it - It looks just like Raiden." Indeed, the small, wooden carving looks a lot like Resani's canine. Zia presses it firmly into the girl's hand with a low chuckle. "Do you like it?"

Yulianna ambles through a door into the great hall.

Rislyn walks in from the great hall.

Resani leans her chair back to meet Zia's with a yawn. As the carving is pressed into her hand, she blinks, studying it close. "Ah! It does look like that old brute," she chuckles. "Thank you, Zia. Where'd you get it?" delicate red 'brows knit together in mild interest as she fingers the carving. Ah, anything related to that crimson canine of hers truly touches the redhead's heart, for her canine is her weakspot. Saein peers down at the figurine in his humanpets hand. Food? He sniffs it. Ech! No!

Maudia notices entering bronzerider entering, and the newly befriended red-head giving him a wave. So she does, also. Since, you know, meeting dragonriders can be fun. She takes another drink of her juice 'n booze concoction, giving herself a little zip with a smile. " So, how'd you get around knowing all these people, sweety?" She asks, semi-curious tone on voice.

Lhana smiles over at Yulianna now, evidently channelling all her earlier moodiness into the destruction of Sii'kyn's hairstyle. Her current plan, it seems, is to hack mercilessly at Ike's hair and then sort of halfway fix it later. How it will end up looking, she can't guarantee, but she's certainly having fun with this part. Snip-snip. Chop! And all the hair falling to the floor. "So...how is everyone, today?" she asks, remarkably calm for all the vicious, manic havoc her hands are wreaking on her wingmate.

D'baji goes home.

Zia reaches out and takes Saein into her lap, gently rubbing the sapphire eyeridges with a practised hand. "I'm glad you like it. I had a friend from the hall carve it for you." Forget what she said last time about picking it up on the way - It was obviously planned ahead of time. Simpleton dips out of Between and hassles Zia for a brief moment - So, this is where she's been using all the oil, eh? - before lollopping off again, leaving his pet to answer Lhana. "Fine, actually. Graduation soon, I hope!"

Rislyn looks around the busy room for someone she knows, she notices Resani and walks over to herand taps her on the shoulder, "Hello, remember me?" She feels kinda nervous and alone, even though there are a lot of poeple in here, not knowing everyone or even recognizing any of the unfamiliar faces.

Sii'kyn sighs. "Roast me as a spit. Yep. I think so. Or maybe he'll force-feed me the rejects from the kitchen for life... Or tie me up." The next thought causes his eyes to open and widen in horror. "He couldn't do that," was suddenly muttered. "I'd go insane." And then, he flushes a deep, beet red, shuts up, and closes his eyes again. Whimper.

"I get around too much," Resani answers Maudia with a smirk. Resani raises from her chair, gulping down the last warmth of the klah. It'll keep her awake for awhile, but not too much longer. The sleep-deprived redhead gives a warm smile to Rislyn and a nod. She remembes. With that she pats Zia upon the shoulder, "I'm off, dear. I've got things t' do," she chuckles softly to her friend as she raises from her chair, giving a short whistle to Saein who flutters to her call. With a casual wave to call and a nod to the well-known person of the dorms, Rislyn...she trods out.

Resani walks through a door into the great hall.

Maudia catches yet another unfamiliar face - Rislyn; she wriggles her germ-infected fingers with a brief hullo. " I'm Maudia," she introduces herself, yet again, irrepressible smile still on her pale face. Quietly, she turns back to her juice, feeling slightly sick once more. The soft whirling of orange hues is noted, and calms her down once more to a gentle burble. " And I feel sick. Get around too much? That could be taken in a wrong way ... " she notes, then takes a sip of said juice. Mmm. Bubbly.

Zia scrambles up from her chair, a brief and uncharacteristc loss of cool bringing a flush to her pale cheeks. With a polite nod to those she had previously greeted, she trots out after Resani.

Zia strides through a door into the great hall.

You call to Retsina, who flies over and lands on your shoulder.

Lhana goes home.

Sii'kyn opens his eyes and stares in horror. "I cannot.. believe that she left," is said, in a much-shocked manner. "So.. oh great. I'm half done, aren't I?!" He turns to Wyn, staring. "Tell me I'm not half-hacked. Please. Tell me..."

"Retsina!" is the sudden sound of quiet enlightenment from Wyn's corner of the table. Placing an order? Nope. Naming her firelizard. Wherupon, she snags Ike's glass of the stuff (assuming he's not got it clutched in his hand), and takes a celebratory swallow, before wincing. "Sii'kyn. How can your liver stand this? Never mind your tastebuds."

Then.. Stare. "Liver -- tastebuds -- Retsina? What?" Sii'kyn stares. "It's an acquired taste. It's quite nice, once you get used to it." ...eating big holes in the lining of your stomach, that is.

Maudia notes dully that all of the nonrider people left - was it her? She sniffs, hacks a bit, then gets up to go towards the other strangers littering the 'Mug; other strangers being Sii'kyn and Wyn. " Hullo," she introduces herself rather shyly, sitting down on a nearby bench. Eyes catch new haircut with appreciation, " Hey, nice 'do." There you go. Hacking your hair off at random moments can work. Or getting others to hack it off for you.

Wyn snorts. "Then may the shards of Vorkoroth's egg grant that I never sink so low in my tastes," is her dry reply, before she turns to eye her wingmate with a hidden amusement that probably shan't seem quite hidden enough to one so familiar with her expressions or lack thereof. "Erm... Well, perhaps you might start a new trend?" is her comment about the hair, before giving a slight nod to Maudia. "Good evening."

Janicka walks in from the great hall.

Sii'kyn sniffs. And, then, promptly settles his forehead on the table and bawls. Well, he doesn't bawl, really; he doesn't cry in front of anyone, least of all strangers. Well, he'll cry in front of Trajan, but even that's exceeding rare. His shoulders shake in defeat, but that's about it. "Hey! You! Yes, you there," he finally says, picking out a random holdgirl. "Got scissors? You do? That's wonderful. Chop the other side of my hair off..." He pauses. "But, uh, leave a little braid?" He can't give up all of his hair. It's just impossible.

Wyn slides Ike's glass of poison, er, retsina back across the table to him, before she actually reaches over to give his shoulder a tentative sisterly pat. "It's really not that bad of a job," the bluerider assures. "In fact, I could trim it for you, if you wished. I'm not as skilled as Lhana, but I do cut my own hair." The painfully neat shoulder-length wave is tossed slightly, as the petite woman attempts to be reassuring.

Maudia is said random hold girl? But, whatever works for her. " Um, alright." She grabs a dull set of scissors, taking some strand of hair in hand before slightly in off, leading a jagged looking edge going on. " How's that?" she clears off some goodies from a tray left out, shining it up a little with her blanket she seems to be carrying around everywhere, and shows it to Sii'kyn. There. " That doesn't look that bad." Because, you know, encouraging people is fun.

Sii'kyn shifts. "If you could trim-polish-type-thing-it, I'd be obliged," he mutters to Wyn. "So, what are you calling her?" is queried, as he nods to the little gold.

Maudia settles back on her chair, glad she cut the meager amount she did instead of the amount she was thinking of doing. She leans back a bit more, to stick her scissors on the table, and somehow manages to get her wild-crazy hair caught in something behind the counter. She struggles a bit, smiles towards the 'riders while trying to look cool, before the bartender comes up and pities her, ripping said tresses from the do-dad they were caught on. " Thanks," she offers to the 'tender dude, Lem.

"Retsina, of course," replies Wyn, graciously ignoring Maudia's tussle with the hair in favour of conversation. "A fairly decent colour match, and she was hatched in a tavern. Ergo, it seemed apt." She trails off to watch the surgery on Sii'kyn's locks. "You know, the last time I trimmed hair, it was another apprentice's. In the infirmary. Master Aerrin threw a fine fit, and my mentor for some reason thought that I was having a fling with the other apprentice." A remniscent chuckle. "As if I'd be doing so in the middle of the hold infirmary! But Jathen was always paranoid."

Sii'kyn eyes Wyn for a moment, then shakes his head. "Well. Fling? With another apprentice -- in the middle of an infirmary. Uh..huh. I can see that. Really." A slight twitch, and he shakes his head wryly. "Paranoia is good to a certain point," he muses. And then, he shakes his head, and pauses. "It's weird not to have any hair on the back of my neck," he comments. "So weird."

Maudia raises one arched brow at Wyn's comments; " So, does cutting someone's hair mean you want them badly?" Somehow, that idea doesn't work quite too well with her. Although, it can be notice she gives Sii'kyn a once over before taking yet another sip from the sloshing orange and alcohol mixture. " Yes, I wouldn't know, my hair's been this length my entire life. But, I can imagine."

"Your faith in my personal morals is touching," is Wyn's dry comment to that. Although Ike's seen enough of Wyn in her more predatory moods to perhaps be permitted to tease. Maudia is given a little smile. "Ah, perhaps not in my book. But Alain was rather upset at the loss, and was clinging to me at one point. Which happened to be when the ranking Healers walked in..." Can we say 'compromising situation', children? She stands, cradling the dozing baby gold, and surveys Sii'kyn's clipped tresses. A few passes with the scissors of her own are made with surgical precision, trimming stray bits to a uniform length, and leaving the braid unscathed. "Mmm, truly you don't look half bad, Ike," she allows. "In fact, with that scar of yours, you'll look rather dangerous and dashing. Trajan might approve."

Maudia walks through a door into the great hall.

Sii'kyn beams suddenly. "Dashing and dangerous is good. Even if Trajan will throw a fit." Dashing. Dangerous. Rogue-like. Hey, it works! "Thanks, Wyn," he murmurs. "Think, all of this just because of one little word yelled." He pauses, and confides, "But Ram backed me up, saying that she was starting to glow more than she typically does..."

"He'll get used to it," advises Wyn sagely. "And for having someone that can, I envy you," Gasp. Did Wyn just make a somewhat introspective comment in a public space? But before one can ponder that too long, she's busy giving a wry smile. "First of the group... I have a feeling Vor will chase, although I really think he's going to need a few more trial runs before he actually catches. Hopefully that means I'll be safe when Entymeth goes up..." Shudder.

Sii'kyn gives a glum look. "Just a couple days ago, Ram chased another one.. And he almost caught her. It's beginning to get scary..." It really, really is. "I want to be locked up when he does win." He understands that it's inevitable, but really wishes he could be like Daeyn at times, and not have to go through all of the flight messes. "Entymeth.." Shudder.

Wyn nods, and then laces her fingers, taking her seat again and reaquiring her drink. "Mmm," she agrees on the subject of Entymeth, before tilting her head and asking "What are you afraid of, about it?" The question is neither teasing 'nor provocative, as it might be in others, just a simple query from a friend who's rather fond of seeing that her friends stay mentally healthy.

Sii'kyn scratches along his hairline. "Well.." He hesitates, and eyes Wyn for a moment, before sighing. If he can trust anyone, he can trust Wyn. "I'm just scared about the consequences of Ram winning a flight. I don't know how Trajan would feel about it..." He sighs. "It could turn into one massive blowup, is all I'm afraid of..."

Wyn watches Sii'kyn from over the rim of her glass, grey eyes calmly intent before she gives another little nod. "I won't tell you that your fear is unfounded," she admits simply. "There are a lot of relationships that don't handle the addition of flights. "But..." she pauses, as if gathering her thoughts. "The relationships that I've seen that did work were ones where the partners were frank and honest with each other. You won't be able to be with Trajan for every flight, there is a chance that you'll probably father a child or two as a result of flights. But a relationship is more than just sex. Make sure that he knows that your heart is with him, however you choose to do so, and you'll have the best chance of weathering any storms."

Sii'kyn ponders this over, before watching her closely. "You know, the healer hall lost a wonderful mindhealer," he says, quite seriously. His mind now settled over that topic, he decides - enough about Ike. Time to talk to Wyn about Wyn. "Have you ever given thought to continuing your healer-type-ness?"

Wyn's smile turns a trifle pensive. "More simply having grown up in a Weyr than any training, Ike," she downplays, before taking another sip of wine. "I still am a Healer." she allows after a moment's thought. "Even if I don't wear the knot, and even if I can't do pretty things like stitching, a Healer isn't something you just stop being. I still try to live by my old Oath, as much as possible." Deciding that she's shared her philosophies enough, she gives another quick, slight smile. "But in answer to your question, yes I have. I'm going to study as a Dragonhealer. And once I've mastered that, I may see about crosscrafting back to Healer, as Fall begins to peter out with Pass's End. It... will take time."

Sii'kyn snorts idly, but listens. "I guess making Tatia lame has been your only transgression in following that oath, hn?" is chuckled, before he quiets, again. "Pass's End," he murmurs. "Seems like such a long way away..." The end of Threadfall. Will it even happen? Sigh... "Atleast a Healer that Impresses can keep with their craft as a dragonhealer. For someone like Zia, though, herding becomes a hobby..." Another sigh.

Wyn smiles. "Quite true. Apprentice rules don't fall quite under the same category," she allows. "But it's not really so much different than the tenets that any honourable person attempts to live their life by. Honour, and putting the welfare of others above that of yourself. And while some of us may do more harm than others, I do think we all strive to do as little as possible. Healer simply formalized it in an Oath." It appears that Wyn is attempting to rival Corran in rexamining the basis of Jedi, er, Healer wisdom. "And as for Zia..." she muses. "Again, end of Fall... Faranth, Ike, Skies willing, we'll have half a century of life or more, with no Thread to trouble us, after we char this last fling of it into dust. And from what I know of my history, Dragonriders in Intervals were often permitted to train with their old Crafts again."

Sii'kyn quietly nods. Yep, Wyn's very Jedi. Very. "You're right, of course.. about the Oath." He shakes his head. "It's hard for me to imagine a life without Thread, that's all. It's hard for me to imagine that such a thing exists: so much of a... a paradise. Dragonriders, not rising up to save Pern? Clutches will grow smaller, apparently, and from what I know, in another century, a dragon of Ram's size could win a gold's flight with ease. It's just... It defies thought. I, for instance, if what you say and what I know is true... will have no real reason for existance, in a good amount of time, deeming that I make it that far, to Pass's End. You... you'll go on, because Pern will need Healers and Dragonhealers regardless. Zia will go on because breeding runners to race will always be a sport. But I? There will be no need for an aged brownrider to rub down mares and chase renegade stallions." Then, with a wry shake of his head, he shuts up. "Sorry. I got all solemn and self-introspective. It's Ram. I swear."

Wyn is all for solemn and self-introspection. Hell, that's practically her world, when she's not up to some insanely intricate plot, or pouncing an unsuspecting male. A frightening place, for the faint of heart. Egotists probably wouldn't fare too well. Wyn, however, seems to thrive, or at least get by enough to offer a reply, along with a warm smile. "Blaming the lifemate is always a good excuse to fall back on," she agrees, before tilting her head again, letting brown locks tumble a little from their perfection. "But I don't think you need worry about it, Ike. In twenty turn's time, you won't be the same Sii'kyn that's sitting here today. We adapt, grow. Find new ways to busy ourselves. Who knows what the Ike of Pass's End will be like? Or the Wyn, for that matter."

"Or the Zia, since we've brought her up and cannot let her drop now," Ike continues with a wry grin. "But, I suppose you're right. We do adapt, or we die; it's a very interesting cycle." Sii'kyn shuts up, for a moment, instead pouring himself another shot. And then, another. And then, a shot of wine from the fellow in the next table, just for diversity. He ponders Thread, sentience, dragons and Passes; intervals, crafts, and change. It's a whirlwind of ideas and thoughts and half-formed theories bounce around in alcohol-driven brain, though Ram filters and tempers, cools the 'wrong' thoughts and encourages the right lines of thought -- to the brown. Sii'kyn, all the while, looks pensive and introspective and so unlike-Ike that it would make some people cringe, and others -- mainly his estrogen brigade -- flutter. Thoughtful Ike. Very scary, very annoyingly attractive, or very much neither, mattering on the person. "But, in the mean-whilest, we've got our hands full with just surviving, eh? So... one step at a time." He nods, as if confirming the thought to himself, rather than to the ex-mindhealer. Great. Now he's speaking to himself...

Wyn is neither frightened or fluttery. Wyn simply Is. It probably helps that Wyn was last seen being fluttery at about the age of 14. She watches Ike with a simple serenity, taking the odd sip of her wine and noting that "One step at a time... Is really the only way to live one's life. Planning for the future is needed, but in our situation, it's often best to spend a good bit of time living in the moment." The unspoken closure of 'It might be our last' is left just that: unspoken. No need to turn pensive conversation into morbid.

Sii'kyn submerges into silence once more, sipping at his Retsina. He nods his head to Wyn's words, then settles his glass down. Nimble fingers fly, tightly braiding the last remaining side lock into a braid. He holds it with a pair of fingers, and searches for one of those nifty locking beads he ordered. A silver one is snagged, locked in, and he contemplates s'more. Very scary. "Living in a moment can be dangerous, at times, though," he comments.

"Very true" allows Wyn, still sipping her wine. After an entire evening of sipping it, she's only approximately halfway done. But then again, Wyn plans to be able to fly home. "Like anything, I do believe it comes down to a matter of balance." She ponders a moment, and then attepts to form a pithy saying. "Live in the moment, but keep an eye for future consequences." she decides upon. "I think what I intend to say is that we should make use of the chances given us... because we might not get them again." Surprisingly, underneath that cool facade a distinct spirit of joie de vivre can be found.

Well, Sii'kyn's planning on crashing Synte and Psyra. They can't turn a drunk, riding relative down. Well, Synte can't, at least. "Live in the moment, but keep an eye for future -- but then you're living in the future," he protests. "Aren't you?" A pause. "Might not get them again." Sigh. "Too true, too close for comfort."

Psyra can turn down anything she damn well pleases, after all. "Mmm, no, more like being in one room, and looking through curtains to another, every now and again," the bluerider metaphorizes. Wyn then gives a little, quirky sort of smile. "Comfort... Mmm, comfort can be highly over-rated at times. A little bit of discomfort yields growth. I'm sure that being dead is quite comfortable, after all." She then draws herself to a halt, and nudges away her half-glass of remaining wine. "Well, on that morbidly cheerful note, I think I'd best see to it that one of Maelstrom's wingseconds makes it back home. That, and I need to get little Retsina settled."

"Ah." A blink. "Comfort is not over-rated," he protests. "Comfort is very vital." Sigh. "Okay. Make sure to tell Vor g'night.. or g'day.. or whatever the shell it is outside right now.. for me." Sii'kyn gives a nod, more than a tad tipsy, and downs another shot.

Wyn laughs. "Sii'kyn, you've seen the number of pillows in my weyr. A certain level of comfort is a worthy goal indeed. But will do. And do you need a shoulder to lean on to get anywhere?" she offers. Even if watching well-built Ike leaning on petite little Wyn for support would probably be darn amusing to watch. Bluerider stands, in any case, and begins to tug on gloves and pull out her goggles.

Sii'kyn eyes Wyn. "Nah. I'll just drag out Synte's sorry carcass, give him the ratting-out I promised Ly I'd do, and then yodel for Jaryn. Or get Ram to hunt someone down for me." He shrugs, lightly. "Thank you, though. Especially for trimming my hair." A wry grin. "Have a safe trip home," he absently tacks on.

Wyn laughs again. "Ah, the joy of family," she quips. "But you're quite welcome, and direct any irate Trajans to me if needs be... safer than pointing him at Lhana, I think. Clear skies, Ike, and I'll send you my recipie for hangover cure, if you need it." And with that bit of foreboding, the slim weyrling trots out at a smart pace.