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Puttin' On the Ritz


Date:  October 17, 2004
Place:  Bitra Hold's Great Hall
Game:  PernMUSH
Copyright Info:  The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey 
l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

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Kassi's Note:  I was glad that PernMUSH came back up in time for this
event to take place--and I'm gladder now, because it was a great 
scene. :)  Various Telgar riders and Weyrlings who've been at Bitra 
for the campout attend a formal dinner in their honor.  It seems to 
go well, although *something* about it certainly amuses M'rek....
Because it was a fancy dress occasion, I've included the descs of 
everyone I remembered to look at.  If you were here and yours isn't
there, sorry!  Sometimes I got too wrapped up in poses to look, 
and I've re-located several descs within the log because I only 
remembered to take a peek long after the person arrived. :)

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The Log:

You choose the stairs leading down.

M'tri comes in the large eastern doors from the courtyard.

Edris climbs down the stairs from the second floor.


Edris:
A mass of unruly dark brown ringets, which defy all attempts at
containment, spring down to about mid-back, with a few shorter curls
bouncing up to frame her rounded face. Perhaps the most striking thing
about this young woman are her huge, black-lashed eyes of dark umber--eyes
that don't miss much, constantly observing and taking everything in, an
intensity residing in their depths, hidden often behind a cautiousness the
shows itself only through her hesitant nature. She's about average in looks
and height for her age of 26 Turns, 1 months, and 18 days. 
	Her dress is long and close fitting to the waist, where it then 
swirls out into rich folds to her ankles. It's colour is a green so dark, 
that it sometimes takes a glance or two to differentiate it from being a 
simple black. Long sleeves are slashed twice, once above and once below 
the elbow, where some creamy white sisal peeks out. The lacings down the 
vee-necked front of the dress are also creamy white, as is the simple line 
of embroidery hemming the bottom of the skirt. The knot on her shoulder 
shows her to be a Journeyrank Harper.


Kassima does not make an entrance this time hissing to someone about the
eating of intestines, no; that would be unbecoming a formal occasion.
Instead she's muttering to the hapless young man she's waylaid about
dragonpoker cards. Because that's ever so much better. "--Hasn't got aught
t'use for the Steward, though. So if'n you *do* find that old deck...?
She'll probably be haunting the Even Odds for the evening if'n I've taught
her aught at all." There's a nod, and her companion escapes back upstairs,
leaving her to walk quietly into the Hall proper alone with the hiss and
rustle of velvet on sisal providing accompaniment to her footfall.


Kassima:
	Kassima is a woman gifted magnanimously by genetics: one would 
likely guess her to be younger than her actual actual age thanks in part 
to high cheekbones and a brow lines dare not touch, and metabolism and 
height have both dealt a good hand in her slender 5'10" build. Her elfin 
features make a fine setting for canted eyes the color of emeralds in 
shadow; a shrewd glint lightens these even when mirth does not, and the 
well-shaped brows above lend eloquence through their mobility.
	Deep and vivid violet pours down the length of her form tonight in 
an overdress of rich, sleekly shimmering velvet. Its divided halves meet
briefly at her waist where an onyx clasp in the shape of a flying dragon
binds them. The neckline of this garment is thus deep enough that it would
be scandalous, were it not for the strapless sheath of thick and dully
gleaming black sisal she wears beneath. Both gowns hug her upper body but
have been permitted to bell out slightly in the skirts, the violet falling
away to trail to the sides and back; the black goes without ornament, but a
line of stylized lightning bolts marches along the sides and hem of the
overgown, embroidered in thread of dark and gleaming bronze. The bolts make
another appearance at her wrists, on the edge of arrow-pointed velvet sleeves.
	A bronze torc circles Kassi's throat, each end in the shape of a 
dragon's head set with tiny violet jewels for eyes. Her earrings are more
thunderbolts in bronze; her hair falls in an unfettered blue-black river,
free save for where a thin circlet--again bronze, this time set with a line
of darkly glittering amethysts--crosses the Wingleader's brow.


Edris doesn't make much of an entrance at all. She simply makes her way
over to sit with a small group of Harpers towards the back of the hall, out
of notice of the majority of people. After all, it's better for a Harper to
stay that way, and tonight isn't about them.

M'rek is dressed in his best leathers, black with inset blue and his nose
is now just a shimmering of fading purple bruises. Talking quietly in a
corner with the wine steward he and the man immediately stop conversion
when others start to arrive and attend to their duties. For the wine
steward it's sending the glasses of a light Bitran white around on a tray
while two other servants start to circle with light finger food type
appetizers. M'rek presses his hands over his jacket and gives the arrivals
a bow. "High Reaches duties to Telgar from myself and Bitra's duties on
behalf of Lord Vorlin who is not yet able to join us."


M'rek:
Tall and broad shouldered, M'rek is impressive of form. The pale skin of
his face is marked with a long healed scar that snakes down his left cheek
for at least two inches. Other than the mark, his features are attractive
enough if on the rugged side of handsome. His eyes are a dark and moody
black that seems to spark all the more for their shadows. This twenty-six
turns old male has had all the hair on the top of his head shaved off,
leaving him smoothly bald. His eyebrows are jet black, so possibly that was
the color of his hair. The clean look of his pate is interesting, certainly
a change for the man.

M'rek wears a dark blue shirt of some impossibly soft and gleaming material
that is half covered by a jacket of a very fine grade, supple leather. The
jacket is jet black and has a notched collar that seems to suit M'rek's
style. Tight black leather breeches match the jacket and go a step farther
with diagonal slashes of midnight blue leather that trail from hip to
polished boots of black. The belt around his waist holds a large knife and
is fastened with a buckle that is shaped like a dragon. There is a High
Reaches Weyr rider's knot on his shoulder with a thread of bronze to
indicate the color of his lifemate.


Lanisa climbs down the stairs from the second floor.


Lanisa:
At about 17 turns old, Lanisa is looking to be as individual as ever. Her
pert features are gaining the promise of adulthood. Her hair is fine and
strawberry blonde, with windblown curls that rest against her neck. While
beneath those curls are innocent-looking blue eyes, circled with turquoise,
and a slightly upturned little nose resting between them. Her mouth leans
towards generous and full, but not overly so in either case.

Just now her curls have been pulled up in a manner that allows them to drop
in an artfully tousled style that frames her face. A simple linen gown, in
medium blue, accents the gentle curves of her lanky five foot seven frame;
darted to follow her form and falling just past her knees. The neckline is
scooped, but not so low as to be overly revealing, and twin spaghetti
straps lay over her shoulders and then cross in the back; they being the
only things to cover the open expanse above her shoulder blades. On her
feet are a simple pair of matching slippers, to round out the outfit.


M'tri strides in just in time to catch the tail end of M'rek's welcome,
looking a bit ill at ease and shrugging his shoulders frequently, jerking
the collar of his jacket here and there. The nearest innocent table gets a
bit of a glare and the jacket gets one more jerk before he glances around.
A sigh of relief is earned as he sees Kassima.


M'tri:
When standing at his full height, M'tri is hardly menacing; he only raises
to about five-feet-eight, give or take a bit. His build is slender and
fluid, his movements infinately more suitable of a serpent, even if nothing
else is. His body is lean muscle, rather than the frequent mountainous
bulges of a man of broader frame. His skin is toned to a deep brown from
exposure to Rukbat's throbbing rays, a tan that brings out the freckles on
his arms and scattered on his face. Chartruese eyes of the lightest tone
contrast elegantly. His hair is thick and dark brown nearly to the point of
being black, and has a natural curl that is neither ungenerous nor kinky.
It's simply messy despite any of his attempts to make it look like he's not
just rolled out of bed.
	His face has acquired a lean look to it, with a slender nose and an
everlasting sly grin. This grin, which always reaches his eyes, gives him
semblance to a sleight-of-hand artist. His smile is an all-together
different thing. When he smiles, he does not look conniving, but bright and
trustworthy.
	M'tri's garb is formal, possessed of a collared shirt of dark green, 
with sleeves that are too long. The extra length is rolled up neatly around 
his wrist and buttoned neatly. The jacket over it, also green, a more pale
contrast hangs just above his knees, finely tailored and obviously brand
new. His breeches are black, loose slacks that aren't so new but well taken
care of, covering boots that shine freshly. Wrapped around his waist is a
thin belt, subtle save for the very glittering buckle. Looped over his
right shoulder is the simple two-toned knot of a Telgar weyrling, black and
white with a stark strand of blue for the color of his dragon.
	M'tri is 17 Turns, 9 months, and 16 days.


Edris stops her talking as M'rek makes his announcements, lifing a finger
to one of the others in a 'wait a moment' gesture to the Harpers. A glass
of wine is taken from a tray as it passes by, and she sips carefully at it
as she waves away the finger foods. From where she has positioned herself,
she has a good view of exactly who is arriving and with whom.

Kassima draws to a stop at that, executing a reasonably graceful curtsey in
exchange. "Duties a'course t'Bitra and her Lord in return," she responds,
"as well as t'High Reaches and her queens, and the appropriate places and
people of everyone else here. Greetings t'you and yours on this fairest of
evenings." Straightening, she says on a rather less formal note, "I've been
hearing the most *interesting* stories about you since I got here, M'rek.
Good t'see that you are after all still among the land of the living. Am I
terribly early?" Her eyes flick from one side of the Hall to the other,
taking in her surroundings; the wine glasses get a particularly interested
look, while the glaring, formal-clad M'tri gets an amused one. "Nice," she
offers in so-innocent approval.

Lanisa's entrance is neither bold, nor it's reverse. She seems quite at
ease as she makes her way into the Hall. It's only after she's inside, sees
who all is there, takes in the fancier garb that she brushes her dress
some, as if self conscious -- At least until she catches what she's doing,
and then she clasps her hands behind her back and moves over to silently
join her wingmates. Weyrlings on parade?

M'rek seems to have been appointed Host tonight and he takes a wineglass
from the tray when it passes him but just holds it as he goes to greet
people. A friendly smirk that's quickly schooled, as if the bronzerider is
trying to play house-broken tonight, "Wingleader Kassima. You look
devastating, I hope Lord Vorlin feels well enough to come down later,
purple is his favorite color, you know? I haven't had a chance to meet all
your weyrlings." and then less formally, "Aye, was a great time had by all.
Best fight of my life so far. You're just in time." He turns then to the
weyrlings, curious.

Edris has the Harpers set up their instruments in the corner that they're
sitting at. It's a small group, four musicians in total while Edris herself
is watching them carefully instead of playing. With only the slightest nod
from the Journeywoman, they lift their instruments and proceed to play
quiet and unobtrusive pre-dinner music for the assembling guests. With them
playing, Edris allows herself to listen critically while watching the
exchanges between riders with interest.

M'tri grunts in response to Kassi's remark. "Thanks," he mutters without
any real sincerity, before lighting up a bit more as a result of Lani's
entrance. He backtracks a few steps, turns around, and walks towards her.
"Thank Faranth," he murmurs to her, while politely inclining a slight bow
for her. "Thought I was alone for a moment." And he does, indeed, look
relieved.

Kassima also accepts a glass in her turn, nodding her thanks to the
tray-bearer but declining the appetizers when they're offered to her: not
yet. "You're too kind," she says to M'rek. The compliment causes her to
color slightly, but she hasn't lost that amused expression. "You had
mentioned; but 'tis more in honor of m'Wing, I fear. Purple, black, and
bronze are Thunderbolt's colors. Have you nay? That's a pity--you do know
M'tri, a'course." There's a momentary waggle of brows on 'know.' She lets
the other Weyrlings introduce themselves if they wish, but does comment,
"That really is a gorgeous dress, Lani. As I'm sure certain parties agree.
--I heard the fight was a wonder, enough that I'm half-sorry I missed it,
but did you forget the *survival* part of the ideal brawl?" she wonders of
M'rek, with a wry grin. "Vahara said the Healers had their doubts. Oh...
there are Harpers t'play tonight?" Now she looks towards the musicians with
real interest. "We truly are honored."

Emilly comes out of the busy kitchens.


Emilly:
	 Thoughtful grey eyes sit slightly tilted in a pale face, strong of 
jaw and cheekbone, beneath a mass of red curls. Of willowy figure, she is
rather on the slender side, yet not so thin as to be boyish. From the
subtle appearance of fine laugh lines about her eyes, her age might be
placed in the early thirties. Sweeping back two wings of hair from her
forehead, is an exquisitely shaped barette of finely polished heartwood.
Curving gently along the back of Emilly's head, it is held in place by a
sharply honed stick of the same wood, stuck through two holes bored into
the body of the bar. The honeyed hues of the piece pick up the highlights
of the surrounding mass of curls. 

	 Like the embers of a fire, the color of this dress has been muted 
from vivid to quietly heathered violet, yet still a rich hue that looks 
well with Emilly's dark red hair. The tailoring of the gown is a bit more 
daring than that which the High Reaches Weyr resident usually wears, yet 
still tasteful in its design. The bodice scoops to reveal a fair amount of 
creamy white skin, above a tightly cinched waist that is drawn in by 
lacings to either side that reveal puffs of the woman's creamy shift 
beneath. The skirt reaches down to ankle length, just long enough to be 
pretty and full, yet not so long as to trip the wearer. The hem, neck and 
short cap sleeves, are decorated with darker violet embroidery in the 
shape of flowers within circling vines. 

	 The knot of a rider at High Reaches, threaded through with green 
for the color of her dragon is looped around her right shoulder.


Lanisa promptly flushes a bit for the slight bow and then replies quietly,
"Now would I make you face such a thing without me, Trii? You might get
into trouble and I wouldn't get to have -any- of the fun of joining in."
She smiles then, adding quietly, "You do look nice, Trii." For Kassi she
then gives a lopsided grin, "This old thing? Thanks though." She glances
again at M'tri, out of the corner of her eye, before taking the hint and
introducing herself to M'rek. "Lanisa, weyrling to blue Tisiath. Telgar's
duties, to Bitra and Hight Reaches."

A'tan comes in the large eastern doors from the courtyard.

M'rek quips at the Thunderbolt Wingleader, eyes bright, "Purple, black and
bronze? That's far too tempting a target, Kassi, for any bronzerider." and
then laughs, "Aye. So I'm told, but I was unconscious for that part." and
then, "M'tri! Very nice and Lani? Is it?" towards Lanisa, all smiles and
easy grace.


A'tan:
A'tan is a tall broad shouldered young man who unruly brown hair makes him
look younger than his age. His dark brown eyes study everything around him
before he speaks with quiet intelligence. He stands at about 5'10" tall and
doesn't look like he is going to stop growing. In place of his weyrling
every day clothes A'tan wears a light brown soft leather shirt. It buttons
down the front with a pocket at his chest. Someone has taken the time to
cover the pocket with an embroidery stitching of a green dragon with wings
spread out in flight. The shirt comes to tight cuffs at his wrists and his
weyrling knot with the green strand for his lifemate. His shirt is tucked
into dark brown pants and a simple rope belt around his waist. His long
legs seem to travel forever before coming to the top of his laced leather
boots.


Emilly slips through the doors, patting at her hair as if to make sure it's
not going to fly off her head and looks about the Hall, bright-eyed.

"Telgar's duties," M'tri responds to M'rek, before adding, likely for
Kassi's benefit, "Yes, we've met." Hey, he can wiggle his eyebrows too. He
leans over to Lani to whisper quietly, "I don't have /fun/ or get in trouble."

"'Target?' I fear that. But between your nose and Ulfianth," Kassima teases
the bronzerider, "I'd say they're almost your colors too at the moment!
Mind, the blue suits you quite well. Did you say that Lord Vorlin is nay
feeling well?" She advises Lanisa in a laughing aside, "Save 'this old
thing' for the men, Lani, unless you really want t'fish for compliments
from me. Wouldn't the Weyr entire have a field day with *that*." Because
she's not facing the door, she wouldn't seem to have noticed the new
arrivals yet. She does ask M'tri sweetly, "'Met?' Is that what you're
calling it now?"

Edris ensures that the Harpers know exactly how many, and what kind of
pieces that they are going to perform, and gives them instructions for
where to meet with her after they are through. Her work done, she heads out
of the hall.

Edris climbs up the stairs to the second floor.

"Lani, aye." The young bluerider agrees with a grin and then hmms as she
tips her head to reply to M'tri, "Well good. Then it can only get better
from here, eh?" She grins then to Kassi, "But it is. Not like I've been to
weaver yet." Some things she still needs to work on, maybe, or she just
isn't worried. Yet she shakes her head as she teases, "No thanks. I'll
leave it to Trii to have the harem, not me. And I'm not seeking to join
another just now for that matter."

Emilly slips in among gathering Weyrlings and spots further friendly faces
and moves that way. "Good evening!" she calls over. "Goodness me, look at
all this finery! M'tri, you look positively dashing. Lanisa, that shade of
blue is stunning. Kassi - your gown looks even better in these surroundings
than it did at the feast the other night ... and don't you clean up nicely
M'rek, eh?"

"Met," M'tri agrees, making a show of batting his lashes at M'rek...then at
Lani, then at Kassi. "You imagine how hard this is for me," he finally
huffs to the greenrider. "You and Lani is hard enough, but I know how you
get around the bronzeriders who fancy me." He beams at Lani to add, "You
better not be in anyone else's harem." - "'Lo, Emilly. You look excellent
yourself." Yet he tugs his collar. Again.

M'rek snitches a little shrimp on a cracker thing off one of the passing
trays without even looking, it's almost as good as a sleight of hand
because he eats it right away and so disposes of the evidence. "Maybe
targets a little too strong of a word. Naw. It's just right." And the
purple nosed bronzerider laughs, "I'm even wearing mostly black. I could be
the target." Hearing the Reaching Greenrider he half-turns on his heel and
beams upon her, "Aye, I could almost be kissed, couldn't I?" And he offers
his cheek. So maybe he's not /quite/ house-broken tonight.

"Ah, alas," sighs Kassi with a mournfulness far too overwrought to be real.
"You've broken m'heart, Lani. I never shall forgive you. When they find me
perishing of grief, 'tis with your name on m'lips that 'twill die, I'm
sure. Em--" She turns about to see the greenrider, the skirt of her outer
gown swirling slightly with the motion. "You're one t'talk! And I thought
your gown on that night was fine--you should try the wine; 'tis rather
good." Trust her to have found a time to sip between words. "Aye, M'tri,
I'm honor-bound t'challenge them all in duels to the death one of these
days. So watch out. Now, one really must wonder what *sort* of target you
mean, M'rek--if'n 'tis target of a fight, methinks you may have had enough
of that. Target of another sort? *That* might be entertaining to see." Her
grin is pure mischief.

A'tan steps into the room and looks around at the crowd. He steps in
further to allow others in before making his way over to the serving tables.

Shalyn comes in the large eastern doors from the courtyard.


Shalyn:
'The Littlest Dragongirl' might best be used to describe Shalyn. No doubt
one of the youngest riders in awhile at 13 Turns of age. Shalyn is starting
to look more like the older teens amongst her clutchmates. She still has
that 'cute' look but now there are definite signs that say 'woman' rather
than 'girl'. Her long curly black hair is at long last again allowed to
grow longer and flow free, if you look closly you can see her ears are
pierced with tiny gold stud earrings. Olive green eyes, framed by thick,
long eyelashes, sparkle out from under thin arching eyebrows. A fine nose
above full lips, fits perfectly with her slender jaw line completing an
attractive heart shaped face.

Today Shalyn can be seen arraigned in brand new riding leathers fit for a
Weyrwoman, a gradudation present from her proud father. In stark contrast
to her father Shalyn is wearing the very latest in style for riding
leathers, and all in midnight black to match her head of tight curls. The
leather is soft and new with fringes running down the arms and legs. The
inside is lined with the softest black sheepskin insuring the small package
inside is kept nice and warm. Oh her feet are a brand new pair of sturdy
black riding boots. Even the helmet matches, black, with the arms of High
Reaches Weyr pressed into the leather. around the brim is a new pair of
riding goggles, their amber lenses unmarred and shiny.

Worn on her shoulder with all the pride that can be stuffed into a small
package is a brand new riders knot. Four chords, two black and blue of High
Reaches Weyr and 2 green symbolizing her lovely Oenoneth.

(+detail is available)


Shalyn sneaks up behind the young green rider by the serving tables and
places her hands over his eyes, "Guess who!"

Emilly laughs gaily at M'rek's words. "You could at that," she says and
drops a light peck on the bronzerider's cheek. She smoothes out long skirts
and takes a deep breath. "Thanks M'tri ... or Met is it?" she blinks around
at the grouping then waves A'tan's way as she spots him by the doors. "Heya
A'tan!" She focuses back on the conversation shaking head slightly. "Target
of what?" she asks curiously.

Lanisa casts off a salute, as she sees Emilly, before replying to Trii,
"How could I? Who else would make a deal with me to risk the wrath of da,
eh?" She teases again, but she gives a warm smile as well with that. With a
giggles she adds for Kassi, "But we've already established we're family. It
just wouldn't do for us to be together being such closely related kin and
all. That would cause far more scandal, don't you think?" Says she who's
sister is her aunt?

A'tan smiles as he feels the fingers over his eyes and immediately
recognizes the voice and turns around. "Shallie!" The tall weyrling salutes
the greenrider first and then picks her up swinging her around. "I"m so
glad you are here. Now I have someone to escort if you would allow?"

M'rek laughs easily to Kassima, "Entertaining? That I can do, I'm a target
of all sorts." then he elaborates for Emilly, "Kassima's dressed all for a
purple, black and bronze theme, and it would seem I'm as well. We're a
match, likely made in some disreputable tavern late at night by a barkeep
with a sense of humor." So maybe playing Host isn't so much a stretch for
the bronzerider as some things are for then he turns to A'tan and Shalyn
and greets them warmly, "Welcome to Bitra. Have you been having a good
time, A'tan? Nice to see you, as always, Shalyn."

Shalyn giggles and wraps her arms around his neck and gives him a smooch on
the cheek, "Of course you can big brother!" little sister rider, big
brother weyrling... seems like Lanisa doesn't hold the monopoly on odd
family relationships.

Shalyn waves to M'rek once she's put down, "Hi M'rek, boy things have been
quiet at home since you've been gone."

Kassima spends a moment giving this idea some deep thought. Apparently,
deep thought is best accompanied by wine, since she sips again at her glass
as she thinks. "True," she eventually, regretfully decides. "True. Incest
is, alas, far better for dragons than people. And if'n you'd ever told me
I'd be alasing that even in jest...." M'rek's explanation gets a delighted
laugh. "Oh, aye! We'll have t'commission T'bay and V'lano t'do a song about
us next. Mayhaps they can have us wreaking havoc across all Pern,
ransacking bars and taking the Winecraft hostage. G'deve, there, A'tan."

"No, ma'am, M'tri's just fine. 'Met' is what I've done with M'rek. Even if
we've skeptics in our midst." He turns round to grin at A'tan and Shalyn,
even if he does hover rather close to Lani in the meanwhile, peeking around
for the tray of hors d'oeuvre's. "And you yell at me," he adds with a
slanted grin to Kassi. "When you want a /song/ with someone else."

"I might nay need songs with someone else," Kassi retorts to M'tri,
affecting a pout at him, "if'n you'd stop *meeting* people."

Emilly chuckles for M'rek's explanation. "Ahhh, I see. Perchance that
little hole at Boll?" she questions, one brow arching then she nods Kassi's
way. "Try the wine ... certainly," she says gaily and casts about for a
glass, relieving a helpful server of one posthaste and takes a sip.
Kassima's next words have her coughing a little though around that mouthful
of wine, eyes rolling a little ceilingward. "Well .. just don't wreak havoc
on any kitchens or we risk the wrath of the Bakers once more."

Lanisa stifles a giggle in order to reply solemnly, "Alas, yes. It's true."
And there she does giggle, one can only expect her to hold it so long,
"We'll have to work on limiting his opportunities to *meet* people if his
harem isn't to grow."

M'rek laughs at Shalyn's response, "Aye? I'm sure I'll be home soon to
liven things up then. Something to break the quiet should fall into my lap
sooner or later." A grin and then looks back to Kassi and Emilly, "A song?
Aye, there should at least be not if not a ballad. Perhaps we should go for
a ransacking soon, I'm about due." And M'tri gets a wink for the 'only met'
and then he confirms for Emilly, "Would be my first choice. No more kitchen
mischief for me. At least of the brawling kind." Then he takes a few steps
back as if to see if everyone seems to be here. The eyes of the new Steward
are met across the room and M'rek gives the nod to set the servants
prepping to serve the soup course. M'rek raises his voice then and says
warmly, "If everyone would take a seat, we could get started with dinner
now." His wineglass is discarded on one of the passing trays and he seems
ready to offer an arm if anyone seems hesitant.

A'tan offers Shalyn a plate. "Let's eat. No tripe tonight so it ought to be
delicious." He turns and points out some of the food and picks a large
people of meat and bread as he moves down the line slowly. He waits
patiently for Shalyn to pick out her food before pouring two glasses of
Benden wine for them.

Kassima agrees serenely with Lanisa, "Or at least cajole him into sharing
certain members of that harem with us. A ballad would be even *better*,
M'rek, I agree. We'll have t'see what they can do. You'll keep the
bartender occupied while I steal all the liquor worth having, aye?
Bartenders are always worth, ahem, meeting." Another grin that's rather
wicked, before she recalls the formality of the occasion and smooths it
from her face. "A'course," she agrees more demurely prior to finding a seat
for herself.

Shalyn smiles and picks up some roast beast, some chicken, a pile of mashed
potatoes, corn niblets, a spoonful of butter and it all get's covered with
thick gravy. She picks up 2 dinner rolls on her way down the table. "Who's
been serving you tripe? That's firelizard food." she grins, "Lead the way
big brother."

As the people start to find seats at the tables the servants start to bring
in the soup course. Bowls of a sweet tuber and nut soup that steams warmly
in the chill air of the season. Each place setting has silverware, plate
edged in deep bitran red with a silver star in the center, and glasses of
water and the Benden white wine.

"Hey, no one limits my harem," M'tri warns with a pout, and at the same
time offers Lani his own arm, whether she's hesitant or not. "Just in case
you decide you want to join someone else," he explains with a grin, and,
assuming she's made her mind up, he goes to find a seat.

Vahara climbs down the stairs from the second floor.


Vahara:
This serious looking young woman is stunning in a statuesque fashion. Built
with a fine bone structure she is slender of limb and waist but not lacking
in the appropriate curves. Her hair is as black as any Cromcoal and she
wears it back and up in an intricately braided affair that highlights her
high cheek bones and sculpted eyebrows. Her eyes are a very striking
emerald color and add much to the seriousness of her look for they hint at
intelligence and wit. Vahara is dressed in a fashionable gown of green
velvet trimmed in black fur. If appropriate for the situation she also
wears a cloak of black wool trimmed and lined in warm black fur.


A'tan looks down at Shallie's plate with amazement on her face. "You need
help carrying that. There's enough for a whole weyrling class." He grins at
her playfully as he leads the way to the table with the rest of his group.
He motions as though trying to salute, but his hands are rather full.
"Goodeve."

"But then if he started sharing them with me, then I'd be building my own
harem." Lani gives M'tri a wink as she adds, "He could still share them
with you though, Kassi." But as he starts off she takes a quick step so
she's not left behind, taking the offered arm as she does. Seems he's right
anyway, that she has. "Is that so, hmm? And who else would that possibly be?"

Emilly looks around as dinner is announced and moves to take a seat. She's
still got that wine glass in her hand and she takes another sip before she
sits down. "That is good," she says to Kassima and then grins at both the
Thunderbolt wingleader and M'rek. "Hmm. Perhaps the call of a purple fizz
might be hard to turn down," she muses, then sets her glass down. "M'tri -
how many are in the harem now anyway?" she interjects with mild curiousity.

Shalyn sticks her tongue out at her brother, still diminutive it's obvious
that the small rider has not reached her full height yet. "I seem to recall
you stuffing your face with more than this only a few turns ago." she grins.

A'tan leads Shalyn over to the group with her hand protectively in the
crook of his arm. He smiles and salutes those that need it. "Good evening
all. Are we talking about M'tri's harem again." He rolls his eyes with an
amused look, "How much larger can it get."

Kassima traces the pattern of her plate, then leans back to allow the
serving-person to set her bowl down. "It smells magnificent," she says.
"And magnificently tripe-free." She picks out the appropriate spoon without
hesitation and dipping it into the soup. "That's fine, Lani. 'Twould be a
useful thing, given that his harem's mostly bronzeriders--I could test them
out and see whether they're suitable for employment on that island I'm
going t'buy after retirement. You *do* have loincloths for 'em all t'wear,
don't you, M'tri?" What a conversation topic. At least she keeps her voice
low, in more deference to formality. "--You're welcome t'join us in the
rampage, Em. You can be our companion who's always trying t'turn us back to
the path of good, but never succeeds. Our wickedness shall triumph over
all. Evening right back t'you, A'tan. Good t'see you could make it."

M'rek sorts out some of the seating with a guiding arm, boy girl side by
side and across as well whenever possible, though he can't catch everyone
it seems that, in general, it works out. The bronzerider nods a little to
himself, as if checking something off a mental list and then moves past
Emilly and Kassima in time to quip, "Aye. Plenty of purple fizzies." Then
Vahara arrives and he ignores the prickling over the back of his neck to
look a question at her.

Shalyn smiles and sits down next to her brother. "So who are your friends?"
she asks graciously."

M'tri finds a pair of seats and, quite on his best behavior (making up for
all the rest of the times?) he is polite enough to draw out Lani's chair
before taking his own seat. "How many?" M'tri asks, looking a bit
bewildered. "Well--" and he starts counting them off on his fingers. He
could be heard to mumur, "I don't even know how this started," midway, but
finally he says, "Almost ten, on account of this weyrlinghood thing. And
I've only got loincloths for the bronzeriders."

Vahara pauses as she enters the room from the stairs and arranges her
skirts without conscious thought. She hasn't actually seen M'rek in at
least a turn but she picks him out from the crowd. The new hair style gains
a passingly amused look and then she finds that old rapport and interprets
the look by shaking her head and making a small gesture with one hand.
Vahara doesn't know where his Lordship is, nor where he could be seems to
be the gist. Stepping forward there's a serene greeting, "Bitra's duties to
Telgar and High Reaches and all their queens, I apologize for being late."

Emilly laughs brightly at Kassima's words. "I'm not sure I'll rampage
Kassi, but I'd be delighted to join you for a drink or two. And I know I'm
outmatched in terms of keeping anyone to the straight and narrow where you
and he and a pitcher of drinks are concerned." She plucks her soup spoon
out of the lineup to either side of her plates and tucks into the soup.

Emilly blinks M'triwards. "That's quite a crowd you've got going," she
teases a little, but only shakes her head for the loincloth remark.

A'tan squeezes the girls hand and nods to each in turn. "Well you know
Emilly, our weyrling assistant aide. Then there is Kassima, she is one of
our Weyrling Assistants and Wingleader here at Telgar." He then turns to
look at M'tri and Lanisa, "Here are two of my weyrlingmates. That is M'tri
there and Lanisa, our Wingleader with him." He smiles at the group. "I
would like to introduce my sister Shalyn to those who don't know her. She
is rider of green Oenoneth."

"Aye, well. You'd be the better judge than I for the future employment of
bronzriders. I'm more used to rating them differently." Lani give Kassima a
grin over her shoulder as she takes the seat M'tri selects for her. She
watches him make the tally with an amused grin and then chuckles, "Well I'd
hope only for them. I don't plan to wear one of those myself after all." At
the last, she lifts a hand to salute Shalyn's way. "Evening ma'am."

M'rek stares at Vahara a little bit, shell-shocked a moment for too many
reasons to fit in one pose and then he nods and moves on, he can think
about the rest of it later. An arm is offered to Vahara and then, if she
allows, the bronzerider guides her to Lord Bitra's chair and helps her with
the sizable chair.

"That's fine," Kassi assures, a breath after blowing softly on her spoonful
of soup. "They're the only ones I'd be testing. Principle of the thing. Nay
that other men in loincloths won't be *welcome* t'come live on the island
if'n they want to, but part of the entertainment factor is stocking it with
loincloth-wearing bronzers." She laughs agreement with Lani and nods with a
grin to Emilly, saying, "Might be a fun challenge t'see whether there's
anyone on Pern who *could*. More a mentor for a pair of Weyrlings than a
formal assistant, I'm afraid," she turns in her seat to tell Shalyn with a
rueful smile. "But 'tis a pleasure, I'm sure. Duties t'Bitra and t'Crom,
Vahara. Also a pleasure t'be seeing you again." Her eyes flick to M'rek in
time to watch this reaction, interest once again stirred.

Shalyn giggles as the older girl salutes her still not used to that, she
returns it. "Hello!". She smiles and waves to the other unfamiliar faces.
She blinks a couple of times. "Kassima... you mean _the_ Kassima? Rider of
green Lysseth?"

Vahara allows M'rek to seat her and gives him a look that comes with a
slender sound of silvery laughter before she murmurs, "You can speak to me,
M'rek. We're fine, you and I." Napkin is placed in lap with delicate
fingers and then she arranges herself into the chair that was so nearly
hers once, as if trying it on in more ways than one. "How is everyone doing
this evening?" Emerald eyes look to see what's being served now.

Shalyn looks a little uncomfortable in her riding leathers, fancy though
they may be. "Well to be honest I kinda feel underdressed. I went to Telgar
to visit my brother and followed him here. I didn't know there was a fancy
dinner going on."

"Oh dear," M'tri says from behind his spoon. "She's got a 'The' on her
name. Faranth help us all." And that's all he says at this point.

A'tan chuckles softly to himself as he takes a sip from his glass of wine
looking around the table at all his friends and then nods to the young
greenrider. "Its alright sis. You look fine." He picks up a spoon and
ladles out some soup. He blows on it a little bit before tasting it and
smiles. "This is wonderful."

Kassima tucks into her soup, eating neatly and quietly. She dabs at the
corner of her mouth with a napkin before wondering, surprised, "I rate a
'the' now? I must be--there might be two Kassimas on Pern, but there's only
one Lysseth, thank Faranth. I'm well, Vahara, thankee." The greenrider
flashes a smile. "Drills went well this morning; nay anyone reported
trouble on a sweep; and now I'm enjoying a most excellent meal, so I've
naught t'complain of. Lanisa," she asks, turning her head to look towards
the blue Weyrlings, "and M'tri, have you made Vahara's acquaintance?"
Pause. "'Twas going t'say 'met,' but that word's dangerous now."

Emilly chuckles again at Kassi's words. "Quite so - I'm sure there's some
dedicated bar-hounds out there who'd be willing to give you a run for your
marks." She pauses mid-spoonful as Vahara approaches and nods politely.
"Good evening, Vahara, Reaches' duties," she says clearly. "I am very well
thank you, and yourself?"

Seating Vahara in Lord Vorlin's chair appeals to M'rek's sense of mischief
as well as indulging that need to defy authority when the boot's been
pressed a little too hard against his neck. Still, he doesn't speak to
Vahara, just nods to her and then looks around to make sure everything else
at least is going to plan before he moves to take the seat at the other end
of the table, the chair that should belong to Lady Bitra, completing a
strange kind of pattern for the bronzerider. "How's the soup?"

Shalyn mutters to A'tan, "... _is_... isn't..."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Aww, shoot. I should've answered Shalyn with,
'No, I'm *a* Kassima. Didn't you hear? We come in six-packs.' </obligatory
Hitchhiker's Guide reference> ;)"

Lanisa can't help herself but to giggle at Shalyn's reaction to Kassimi,
looking over at the Wingleader to wink, "Your legend precedes you." Then
she tells Shalyn, "Most of us aren't overly fancy ourselves. Of the
weyrlings at least." Nice as her dress might be, it's no match for the
others, to be sure. She gives a polite nod to Vahara, "Very well, ma'am,
thank you." And Trii? Well, he gets a light elbow nudge between his
sampling of the soup. It's Kassi she speaks to again however, "Not yet."
And looking back to Vahara she greets, "Telgar's duties."

Telgar Weyr> Lanisa laughs! :)

Vahara follows M'rek with her green eyes until he's seated and then she
favors him with a smile of delight, no visit to Bitra would be complete
without some kind of coup, even if it's just one of seating in a land of
make believe. Soup spoon is gathered into slender fingers and then a smile
is dimpled at Kassima and then shared with the others, "I'm Vahara..
selected hostess for the night it would seem. I'm Lord Vorlin's cousin, in
recently from Crom. I'm very well. Delightfully well, thank you. I'm sorry
Lord Vorlin couldn't join us, unfortunate matters of state."

A'tan almost spits out his soup as he hears the words his sister speaks. He
leans over to her and speaks quietly, "Yes and uses a fork too. She is a
rider and human dear." He looks over and winks at Kassima before attempting
to eat before his food gets cold.

Telgar Weyr> M'tri delayed giggle. That would have been awesome, Kassi

Telgar Weyr> A'tan agrees with M'tri. I would have loved to see the look on
her face

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "The best lines always occur to me too late."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Though I'm still pretty happy with, 'Y'see, I'm
a man under these clothes.'"

Shalyn almost does the same as she giggles, "Sometimes we're not though."
she grins, "Oh you'll find out eventually."

"At least she didn't snap her fingers, point at me, and say, 'Right! The
bouncing wherry head!'" That's Kassi for you, always one to look on the
bright side. "*That* was disturbing." Her dark green gaze slants towards
Vahara's seat first, then M'rek's. It takes a moment, but then there's a
flash of amusement in them that she endeavors to hide by burying her
attention in her sweet tuber and nut soup. Soup, soup, soup. "'Tis
regrettable that we haven't the chance t'thank the Lord personally for his
hospitality. The Hold entire has really been most generous t'us." A'tan and
Shalyn get a grin, and the Wingleader reaches for her wine. "Probably so,
Em. Might even be some who can best us. But I'd take 'em on, and see if'n I
couldn't mix something t'win the day."

Telgar Weyr> A'tan says, "That was actually the best line I've heard Kassi.
I couldn't stop laughing after that one"

M'rek reaches for his glass of wine, chuckling a little now, but then he
quickly pulls his hand back when it shows a tremble and he spends a few
minutes adjusting a napkin that there's nothing wrong with. Lungs are
filled with air in a deep breath and then the Reachian bronzerider glances
around, trying to pick up the threads of conversation, his eyes overly
bright. "I'd be game for a bar trip like that." This very minute, is the
unspoken addition to that spoken sentence before he goes on with, "Maybe
tomorrow."

Shalyn grins, "Well we've heard some... well almost unbelievable things
ma'am. Begging your pardon."

"I've neither met nor made her acquaintance," M'tri tells Kassi, replacing
his spoon and echoing Lani's, "Telgar's Duties." Shalyn gets a blink and he
says, "It might do you some good to believe them now, that way you won't be
surprised into heart failure later. You can risk a bit of disappointment,
though, I'd assume."

Shalyn giggles, "A bit yes."

A'tan grins and shakes his head. He nudges Shalyn, "You will have to excuse
my sister Wingleader. She really needs to get out more often." He lowers
his eyes and eat some more of the soup. Yes, wonderful colors and steamy.

Lanisa just shakes her head and has more of her soup, "I'm sure if
someone's heard about your talents, they wouldn't dream of saying that,
Kassi. Not the bouncing wherry head at least." Perfectly strait faced, that.

Vahara quietly sips some soup in a dainty motion of lips, green eyes
watching those who sit at the table in turn. "Bouncing wherry head...sounds
like it should be the punch line to an amusing joke? I'll be sure to make
sure Lord Vorlin knows..Kassima. I'd hate for him to miss out on some
thanks for such a pleasant visit. When do all of you go home?" The question
is asked of the table in general.

Emilly busies herself with her soup, looking a little bit distracted then
finally looks up and over at Kassima. "I'm sure that whatever you'd come up
with would be very interesting," she says with a bit of a smile, then she
too is marking some of the unspoken exchanges flying about the room, with a
slightly furrowed brow. She makes no comment, but recenters her attention
on Vahara. "Tomorrow," she interjects. "We're to head back to Telgar
tomorrow..."

M'rek laughs a little for no obvious reason and then looks over at Shalyn
and asks, "Have you seem Melata lately? If you have, is she still looking
like she'd like to have me skinned for a hearth rug?" He reaches for his
glass of wine now and everything seems fine, just another dinner in Bitra.

Kassima won't be so informal as to make a face at M'tri, but she does fire
a look his way. "'Disappointment'? Ah, well, 'tis likely so, depending on
what you've heard. Lay these things on me?" she invites Shalyn with a
gesture of her spoon. "They might be entertaining. But nay ma'aming
me--Kassima's fine, or Kassi, or Wingleader if'n one *must* be formal. Aye,
M'rek, I do like the sound of that; but none of these clothes are best
suited to pub crawling. Are you quite all right?" To Lanisa, "J'bal
actually did say that, once; a'course, 'twas early in what I guess you'd
call m'career. Thankee for that, Em! You can ask M'rek if'n 'tis nay so. He
had the misfortune t'be m'test drinker awhile back. The wherry head...."
Her expression as she turns in her seat to face Vahara is slightly
sheepish. "'Twas an artifact of the first time m'Lysseth rose. I was nay
feeling quite m'self, and for reasons I'd be at a loss to explain, I
thought 'twould be a good idea t'kill a wherry, cart it into the kitchens,
and decapitate it rather enthusiastically. Thus the bouncing. You are kind
t'relay it; thankee."

Shalyn nodnods, "Yea I saw her this morning M'rek. She looks... well like
Melata always does." and she leaves it at that." she blinks at Kassi's
explanation. "Well that's close to what I heard. No offence but I'm glad I
wasn't that way when Oenoneth took to the skies."

Servants come and clean away the soup course to replace it with a salad
course, tomato, cucumber and shallot with balsamic vinegar and tarragon.
Wine glasses are refilled and as needed the right fork is pointed out for
the occasional curious looking face.

M'tri grins easily as he says, "She's alot like that when Lysseth isn't
about to rise, from what I can tell." Not about to make a fool of himself,
he takes the hint from the rest of the people who need things pointed out,
and quickly seizes his own fork.

Vahara blinks her eyes at Kassima and then laughs lightly at the
explanation, "You are filled with the most interesting anecdotes..aren't
you Kassima? That must have been quite a display, it's so interesting the
things that seem to happen in kitchens." A darting look is given to the end
of the table and then Vahara smiles at Lanisa in particular, "That's a
beautiful dress. Did you get it at the Weavercraft hall? I haven't been to
see the weavers in almost a turn now and I'm starting a list of things I've
seen that I like for when Lord Vorlin settles up with me."

Vorlin comes in the large eastern doors from the courtyard.

Emilly listens to Kassima's story, and her head starts shaking again. "I'm
sure you could whip up something potent," she says easily then blinks down
as her bowl is swapped out for a plate. "Oh ... excuse me," she says and
sets her spoon down, takes up fork instead. "I'm not used to being served
like this," she says with a bit of self-deprecating laughter.

Telgar Weyr> M'hon waves, "Hello!"

Lanisa thanks the serve that brings her the salad, then chuckles, "J'bal
did, did he?" She gives Kassi a grin, not batting an eye at any of the
dinner topics this evening. Maybe she feels right at home? At home enought
to give Trii another light elbow nudge and then she glances up when she's
spoken to. Replying to Vahara with a smile, "From the Hall? No ma'am. But
thank you. I've not been there since before I Impressed, actually. Da used
to take me some times. I've been hoping to make a trip there myself after
graduation though. I haven't much in the way of fancy that still fits after
the last couple turns. Not much need for it when oiling a dragon and such."

Telgar Weyr> L'han says, "Aloha!"

Kassima wryly assures Shalyn, "That's quite all right. Who wouldn't be?
Getting all the blood and ichor out from under one's nails is such a
bother." She's a little too straight-faced, saying this. "--Hey, M'tri, you
haven't even seen me proddy yet. Just *wait*. It's been m'fortune t'live in
interesting times, Vahara--" She breaks off while the salad is set before
her. Though she reaches for the right fork, she does so hesitantly until a
nod reassures her that it's correct. "And that does wonders for providing
anecdotes, a'course. For some strange reason, 'twas banned from the
kitchens after that incident. Even though I didn't even break aught." And
yes, there's a vastly amused glance for M'rek at that. "Aye. You'd nay know
him, a'course, Lani; he died ere 'twere born. But I recall him as an
entertaining man."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima is too amused by this conversation. Yeah, just wait.
Until tomorrow. Muwahahaha. ;) Hey, M'hon. :)

M'rek grins at Shalyn from where he sits in the chair that would be Lady
Bitra's while Vahara sits in Lord Vorlin's special seat. The Bronzerider is
not eating the salad course, just as he didn't eat the soup but he's only
sipping at his wineglass so he's not making up for the lack in that
fashion. As Lord Vorlin arrives from outside the rider blinks and then
quickly gets to his feet, bringing his wineglass with him and points to the
chair. "My Lord, so glad you could get free from your meeting at last."

Telgar Weyr> M'tri whines and hides from proddy-Kassi!

Vahara seems about to move when M'rek does and this causes her to -laugh-,
a bright peal of sound for the situation. The lady stays in her chair then
and reaches for another forkful of the light salad. "I don't really know my
way around the kitchen... and I'm wondering now if that's not such a bad
thing.. after all. Good evening Lord Bitra, so nice to see you again."

A'tan raises his brow slightly at the salad as he pushes his fork through
it. He picks up a tomato and look at it, then puts it back down before
picking up a cucumber trying it carefully. He smiles his thanks to the
server before picking up his glass taking a sip. The young man stands in
his seat wrapping up his napkin as the Lord Holder comes over. "Nice to see
you again Lord Bitra. I hope you are feeling better." He nods to Vorlin and
then sits back down.

Vorlin arrives with a traveling cloak on that's discarded and handed to a
servant. Fingers smooth over his outfit and check his cuffs before he
glides further into the hall, the dinner already in progress. His nose and
cheeks are read with red caused by the cold of between, but already they
seem to be thawing. "Bitra's duties and my sincere apologies for being so
late to the dinner. I hope everything has been satisfactory." Eyebrows
raise at the peculiarities of the seating arrangement and eyes glitter a
little bit, looking from M'rek to Vahara and then back again as if to
decide who's fun this is. Diamond eyes finally decide upon the former
messenger and Vorlin inclines his head a little bit and then he takes the
chair that M'rek was sitting in, face bemused.

Emilly wrestles with the greens on her plate, frowning a little as they
don't seem to want to stay on her fork. Eventually, she gives up trying to
use just the fork and gets a table knife in on the action, to shove the
feathery things onto the fork and get the whole mouthful in that way. She
looks up blinking as the Lord arrives and is acknowledged and her face does
this comical thing while she's trying to figure out whether to stand or
not. She sets her cutlery down, rises as the Lord approaches, but doesn't
speak. Her mouth is full and she might rather resemble a bovine chewing cud
as she tries to work the greens down.

M'tri pokes at the salad without much vigor, rather looking after his
departing (and half-eaten) soup longingly. Ah...well. Just as he starts to
poke at the salad seriously, everyone's rising to thier feet. He saves
himself the trouble of debating it out, and promptly sets his fork down. He
draws himself to his feet, catching a glimpse of Emilly and trying not to
chuckle at her face--and succeeding rather well, it might be added.

M'rek takes his wineglass down and has the servants add a place as near to
Kassima and Emilly as he can get, forcing one of the weyrlings to slide
down just a little bit in the process. When a new salad is brought to him
he tucks in, he must have been waiting for the peculiar situation that just
arose. "It's a good dinner, I think. The food's nice, better than nice.
Good to have the bakers back on our side."

Shalyn giggles, "Oh I'm not saying I didn't draw blood, well I didn't truth
be told. Although Z'vir might think otherwise..." she stops herself short
and mirrors the others around her so not to seem too out of place.

All the hails and rising people are hard to miss, and Kassi sets her own
utensils down to stand in a soft rustle of skirts. "Lord Vorlin, g'devening
and duties. All has been beyond satisfactory--the hospitality of Bitra
continues t'delight." She sinks back into her chair with formalities thus
observed, sparing a glance at Emilly that's sympathetic, but carries the
telltale sparkle of amusement. "I did a fair share of the cooking in
m'father's Holding ere I left," she tells Vahara, "so I know kitchens well
enough; it didn't help me avoid Baker wrath, though." She's willing enough
to scoot if need be to make room, trying, once again, not to look too
entertained.

Lanisa nods to Kassi for the comment to her, and then chuckles, replying to
another, "Aye. Kassi proddy is something else entirely. And Kassi? If the
times weren't interesting enough on their own, I'm sure you'd have arranged
for them to be." Then with the Lords arrival, she too seems to debate the
proper protocol. She settles for a half bow and a formal, "Good evening,
Lord Bitra."

A'tan looks over at Shalyn and raises a brow at the comment about Z'vir. He
opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and stuffs in a large piece
of green to not comment.

Vahara favors Vorlin across the table with batted lashes and a serene curve
of lips as she raises her wineglass towards him a moment..just one big
happy family. "The soup was the best I've had in awhile..or maybe that's
just the tripe talking? Yes, Kassima.. I think that we all had trouble
avoiding that wrath...an interesting show of power." Napkin is raised once
to dab at the corner of her mouth and then she eats a little more, glancing
towards people with interest as they speak.

A'tan looks out at the doorway and sighs softly as he pushes his plate
forward a little bit. He brings up his napkin and wipes his mouth placing
it on the table. "It seems that I am needed outside." He looks around the
table with a slight grimace on his face, "If everyone would please excuse
me." He leans over and kisses Shalyn on the cheek, "I'll be back shortly.
Enjoy yourself."

You sense M'rek grins over at you one brief moment and then, sliding
forward in his chair, tries to find your foot under the table with his. He
might have been drinking, but he remembers that you'd not played footsie,
and what would a Bitran dinner be without the whole experience?

Shalyn smiles and returns A'tan's kiss, and whispers something into his
ear. "It was D'san and Myrdinth."

A'tan looks back down at his sister quickly and almost chokes. "It was?" He
is flabbergasted and nods. "Well talk later sis."

The salad course is cleared now in favor of the main event. Roasted porcine
with a fruit chutney and glazed fingerroots. Once again the servants move
around, clearing plates and refilling glasses.

A'tan heads out the door mumbling to himself shaking his head. "Can't even
sit down and have a meal without....."

A'tan walks out the main doors to the courtyard.

Shalyn watches her brother leave and sips at her wine, "Gee, this is better
than what we have to drink back home."

M'rek senses Kassima's eyebrows jump, and she pauses in lifting her wine
glass to slide a look towards you that's entertained indeed. She nudges her
foot out from beneath the heavy skirts--she's gone with velvet slippers
rather than boots, apparently--and aims a light tap of its toe against yours.

Vorlin arches one eyebrow back at Vahara and gets in a little salad before
it's cleared for the main course. He settles into this lesser chair and
keeps a look of amusement on his features but when he looks over at M'rek
there's something more in his eyes. It's not anger, it's something that's
even harder to place for all but those who know him best. M'rek will know.
"Indeed. It is very nice to have the bakers branching out once more into
all avenues of cuisine."

Emilly lifts a hand to her mouth to cover chewing and swallowing as she
sits back down. There's a brief cough and then wineglass secured to chase
any lingering greens away. "Reaches duties, Lord Bitra," she manages at
last, a bit late still, and she colors a little bit, and, flustered, seizes
up cutlery, heedless of whether it's the right pieces and sets to cutting
her meat into tiny, even pieces. "Er, yes, the food is excellent, so glad
not to see any trip," she blathers.

M'rek grins at Kassima and then starts in on his main course, chuckling to
himself and looking for all the world like he's the one who took home the
winnings from a large poker game. There's a glance towards the end of the
table, the 'Lady Bitra' end in time to catch that look from Vorlin and then
the bronzerider starts to laugh so much he has to catch his breath before
he can go on with the conversation. "Aye, much better than tripe, all the
way around. The company's mighty nice as well."

You sense M'rek rubs toes lightly in deference to the slippers and then he
slides his foot so that yours can rest on top of his, all the while he
laughs with mirth.

M'tri drops back into his seat after greeting, "Telgar's Duties, Lord
Bitra." The descent back into his seat is enough to suggest he may be ready
to fight for that salad. The main course that replaces it is enough to
appease him, though, and he relinquishes it if only to get a decent start
on the newest arrival of thier meal. It appears that M'tri is hoping that's
enough to say how well he likes the dinner.

"G'deve t'you, A'tan," Kassi calls--too late, but it's the thought that
counts. She murmurs softly in delight at this main course, and more audibly
agrees, "Particularly when they branch down such roads as this. Certes
porcine goes far better with wine than tripe ever could." Her own grin to
M'rek is more amused than wine-and-tripe would seem to warrant. All that
laughter still gets a surprised look, though. "--M'tri in particular seems
to be enjoying it," she adds in one of her periodic attempts to be helpful.
"'Tis naught but truth you speak, Lani. Who truly wishes t'live in dull days?"

Vahara enjoys the arrangement..not as much as M'rek does..obviously, but
enough. A beautiful smile graces her lips as she eats in dainty bites.
"M'rek has been and exceptional host this evening." Emerald eyes move
towards the overly giddy bronzerider and then slip back towards Vorlin as
the lady considers adding insult to injury for the Lord. Not tonight...is
the choice made, for M'rek's seating has taken the cake and shouldn't be
upstaged.

Lanisa seems to decide silence is better at this point, at least long
enough to work on her plate awhile, but she pauses to of course reply to
Kassi, "No one I know would. Or at least no one whose company I prefer
would want things to be dull all the time, much less most of the time." She
slants a glance and then a smile at M'tri with that.

M'rek senses Kassima traces the toe of her slipper around as much of the
edge of your boot as she can reach before letting it rest there, lightly
rather than with any attempt to squish the foot beneath; she mutters from
the corner of her mouth, which is turned up, "Tell me what's so funny later?"

You sense M'rek nods to this and gives you a grin, he'll be glad to let you
in on the evening's joke. He keeps his foot there then, content in the
moment with such mischief managed.

Emilly spears bits of food in sequence, building up a bite on her fork and
puts it in her mouth. Eyes light up at the flavors that burst into her
mouth. "That's really nice," she says, smiling brightly now after
recovering from earlier discomfiture. There's a wave sent after A'tan and
then she's making fast work of that plateful of food, so that she'll have a
better shot at finishing it before those omnipresent servers arrive. "I'm
just as glad things are getting a bit calmer," she says between bites.
"There's lots of different kinds of interesting, and Interval interesting
is I think, better than Pass interesting."

Vorlin speaks quietly with the weyrlings on either side of him as he dines
and then he looks across the table to nod placidly to Vahara, "Yes, I can
see that M'rek has outdone himself this evening. I am quite impressed." One
eyebrow raises and then lowers in a quick motion, "It is a shame that I was
detained, but I am glad I could join for the merriment."

M'tri grins at Lani slantwise, opting not to comment and instead popping a
piece of food in his mouth, chewing very deliberately. Could it be that,
for once, the blueriding weyrling doesn't want to draw attention to
himself. It would so seem.

Kassima asks Lanisa, feigning surprise, "Truly? 'Tis so? I would never have
guessed it, did I live t'be three thousand." Her own eating remains neat,
tidy, and efficient, interspersed frequently by sips of wine. "Mmm. The
part of me that's tired of death certes agrees with you, Em. The part that
already misses the fighting, though...." One velvet-clad shoulder lifts and
falls. "This has been quite the laughter-intensive meal. A sign of success,
some might say."

M'rek nods his head to Vahara and Vorlin in turn as they discuss him and
then he shrugs his shoulders and says, "Aye, was just fulfilling my duties
as surrogate host, and trying to make sure everyone has a good time. Can't
send the Telgari home unhappy, or worse, bored, now can we?" M'rek gives
Vorlin his most charming smile and then laughs outloud once more, "It's
almost a shame that I'll be going home in a few days, it's been a very
educational stay. I'm sure if Melata hears about it all that she'll have
something to say to me."

Emilly stacks up another bite of the porcine, liberally doused in sauce and
nods Kassima's way. "Aye ... you're not the only one," she says quietly, a
hint of a smile playing around her lips then she grins. "Yes, it's
certainly not been boring, M'rek," she assures, responding to both his and
Kassi's comments. "A fitting end to our stay here, I'd say."

"Blame my parents, grandma Ryi and yourself for seeing I had proper
examples of how to keep things so then, Kassi." Lanisa says levelly, rather
as if this was something the greenrider didn't know already, "Family is
always good for such, don't you think?" Examples and entertainment? M'tri
just gets a lifted brow and another grin, but she too doesn't comment there.

Vorlin arches one eyebrow at his former messenger, but he speaks to the
conversation in general, "I am sure the adjustment has not been easy for
many riders given the change to the pattern of the weyr, but hopefully,
this will be a time of growth for all of us." After speaking, Lord Bitra
takes one more bite of food and then settles back into the chair he's been
maneuvered into, finished for now it would seem.

Shalyn swallows the bite she's been chewing on before speaking up, "Yes it
is a big adjustment, with lots of stress. But it's also a time of change
for the holds too."

Kassima shakes her head slightly at Lanisa. "Greenriders always get the
blame," she mourns, spearing a bite of porcine with her fork. "And I'sai
counts in that, since he's an honorary. It may be that you just have an
inborn gift. There may be more of us than nay," she agrees with Emilly on a
more serious note, her smile taking on a hint of rue. "--Well. Oh, I can
certes assure that I haven't spent one moment bored. Indeed, 'tis certes
t'be hoped that the Interval will prove profitable for Hold, Hall, and
Weyr. And that the three can have a mutually beneficial working
relationship, Interval or Pass."

M'rek smiles at his plate, the devil in his eyes as he listens and responds
and entertains. "It's always nice to wrap up things on a friendly note,
especially a visit as busy as this one has been with tripe and more. Aye,
greenriders are often the blame. The cause and the cure, all in one."
There's deeper interest now for some comment or another, "Hold, Hall and
Weyr, just as it should be, aye? Working together but also alone in lots of
ways to balance each other."

At last the meal ends. The servants come and clean away all of the plates
but bring out large platters of cookies that are set out along each of the
tables so that the guests can have something sweet if they so desire.

Vorlin steeples his fingers and says smoothly, "It is a time of change for
everyone, I agree. And not just whole areas but people as well. Many times
change can be effected one man, or woman, at a time."

"Well I am related to enough greenriders I would suppose it likely I'd pick
up a thing or too. But I'm glad enough Tisi's blue when it comes down to
that. No offence." After all, Team Blooie wouldn't be the same without two
blooies. The comments of Hold, Hall and weyr draw Lani's attention, and she
listens, but ventures forth no input of her own.

Shalyn nodnods, "True, but it's not the present that has us worried. It's
the future."

Vorlin gets to his feet as the informal dessert is served and inclines his
head, "If you all will excuse me, I have had a most tiring day and still
have some correspondance to see to." And then the Bitran Lord is gone,
making all the servants seem suddenly more relaxed.

Vorlin climbs up the stairs to the second floor.

Emilly sets her fork down as the servers come by to sweep everything away.
She did manage to clean off that last plate though. M'rek's words earn a
look. "Isn't that the way it should be?" she asks, then she's sneaking
fingers over to steal a cookie from the platters brought and nibbling.

Kassima inclines her head in agreement with M'rek, although she adds,
"T'balance, and for their own personal gain and profit, naturally enough.
Oh, thankee," as a servant takes her plate away. She does help herself to a
cookie or two, and nods respectfully to the Lord as he departs. "What an
interesting evening it's been," she observes. Observantly. "Can't deny you
there, Lani--aww, but why? Nay that I imagine he isn't fairly glad t'be
blue too."

M'tri stops chewing momentarily, not blinking, before his mouth turns down
in a frown. There's a moment of hesitation before he finally explains,
"Excuse me. Daikoth." Hopefully, that's just plenty as the bluerider sets
down his napkin, politely declines dessert, and then rethinks it, taking a
couple cookies. That done, he grins at Lani, tells Kassi, "Because blue is
very obviously the best color to bring out her best features," and then
winks to depart to a very demanding blue of his own.

M'rek watches Lord Vorlin head out and then /laughs/, sitting back to have
his plate cleared away before he reaches forward and looks over the tray,
wondering which cookie will be the best one as his fingers hesitate. Then
the choice is made, one that looks quiet on the outside but has all kinds
of nutty spice bits on the inside. He looks back to Emilly and shrugs his
shoulders, "Aye, it is the way it should be, but sometimes people forget."

M'tri climbs up the stairs to the second floor.

Emilly casts M'rek a bit of a puzzled look, but then the Lord is leaving
and she starts to rise again, head bobbing, but he's gone too quickly, so
she sits again, dabs absent-mindedly at her lips with her napkin and then
waves after M'tri as he excuses himself. "It has been a very nice evening,"
she says agreeably in response to Kassima then for Lani there's a sweet
smile and a bright. "Tisiath is a very -nice- blue color too. Sionath
thinks he's very handsome."

"A'course," says Kassi; apparently it's explanation enough for her.
"M'regards t'his other Lordship. And Kaisan's, too, for that matter. Your
brother," she confides to Lanisa, "has been missing 'his' blue dragon."
M'tri's other comment just gets a grin. She chews and swallows a bite of
cookie--and takes a moment to savor the taste--before replying to Emilly.
"Aye, and aye," this time with a nod to M'rek. "You've been reading those
Records, Em; I know I'm nay the only one waiting t'see how long a'fore the
relationships between Hold, Hall, and Weyr start showing cracks. 'Twould be
well t'forestall it. You *have* been finding something hilarious tonight,
haven't you?"

Lanisa's in the middle of getting a couple cookies herself. How ever -did-
they know her life long favorite? She starts to reply to Kassi, almost
hesitantly for once, though that allows the perfect chance for M'tri to
slip his comment in and cause her to flush and murmur a quiet, "Thanks
Trii." But once she's done watching him go, she turns back, and considers a
bit more. To reply more seriously than she's been all evening, "I have my
reasons to prefer a blue." But for the next bit she smiles again, "Kaisan
has, has he?"

M'rek grins and then admits, "I've been reading a lot this month. Aye, it's
important to keep the cracks from showing as the relationships fall apart,
but it's also important not to hold so tight that another kind of pressure
causes disaster. Gah, and now I'm being dull, and it's too nice an evening
for that." Then an admission, "The seating was particularly funny. He
couldn't ask her to move without being rude, and he can't afford to be rude
to her at the moment. It's all boring Hold stuff, I'm sure." The
bronzerider gets to his feet then, "That was an enjoyable dinner for all
the good company." There's a warm smile here, offered to all present.

Shalyn smiles as she finishes her meal and folds the napkin up before
buttoning her riding leathers back up, "Well I'd like to stay but I have
dawn watch at Nabol. It was nice meeting you all."

Kassima looks curious, too, as to what those reasons are, but evidently
she's not going to ask that question here. Instead, "You know it. I'm
amazed Daikoth's so good about it. If'n Kai had his way, there'd be
pretend-Threadfall five times a day, and he and Daikoth would be in every
one of 'em." Back into serious mode. "It's bound t'be awkward at first,
regardless, while everyone tries t'find the right measure t'dance. I
*thought* that had something t'do with it--though t'tell the truth, I was
almost as amused, you'll have t'pardon me for saying, by the momentary
mental image of you as Lord Vorlin's Lady Bitra." She nods towards the Lady
seat, her eyes dancing all too much. "Such a picture. 'Twas i'truth; are
you leaving now?" She turns to nod to Shalyn, smiling. "Likewise, likewise.
Clear skies t'you and your lifemate, and best of luck with that watch."

Shalyn smiles, "And yours, don't let my brother cause _too_ much trouble."

Shalyn walks out the main doors to the courtyard.

Edris climbs down the stairs from the second floor.

Emilly laughs as Kassi paints that picture with words, then leans forward
to capture another few cookies, hiding them away in a pocket as she too
rises. "It was quite an excellent meal," she weighs in. "I'm glad you've
made peace with the Bakers M'rek." Then she's nodding around the table.
"Sionath's calling, so I'll bid you all a good night as well - and see you
later."

Lanisa gives Kassi a longer look for the curious expression, but takes the
other subject quite easily, "Daikoth surprised me with that too. Being so
good with Kai. Course, that bodes well for the day we have our four at
once, or not at once, I suppose." Trying to for a lighter mood than hers a
moment before. She lifts a hand to wave after those that are leaving and
then nibbles one of the cookies.

Edris wanders back down the stairs finally in search of leftovers.
Disappearing into the kitchen for a moment, she returns with a small tray,
which she sets aside for later. She gives the remaining attendees a quick
nod of greeting before arranging for some wine.

M'rek tilts his head back as he laughs at Kassima's mental image. When he
brings his head forward again he rubs at the corners of his eyes, "Aye.
Well, it was funny for that reason as well. Too many reasons, and all of
them fit the situation and were funny to me." He reaches for a few more
cookies as well, emulating Emilly's good idea. "I'm glad as well. Wouldn't
do to have the bakers all hating me, I've enough trouble already without
starving to death."

"So am I," Kassi says with feeling. "Even if'n the Lord arranged it so that
we wouldn't have t'eat tripe, there'd still be the *smell* of tripe. I am
nay fond of the smell of tripe." Like many people are. Filching another
cookie for herself, she waves it to Em. "M'regards t'your lady too! See you
at the graduation, I'm sure, if'n nay a'fore. And that's just what I keep
telling him, Lani. M'tri, I mean. That at least this way it seems unlikely
Daikoth will shove all your children off a ledge." A friendly nod follows
for Edris, too. Then, "Well, I imagine a good laugh certes couldn't have
hurt you any. Your assignment here is up soon, methinks you said earlier?"

Emilly walks out the main doors to the courtyard.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima waffles to Claret! Yay, more Weyrlings at Bitra. :)

Telgar Weyr> Claret waves. :)

Claret comes in the large eastern doors from the courtyard.


Claret:
Claret has the form of a young woman of about seventeen or eighteen turns
who has achieved almost full growth. She stands about three inches under
six feet, with long slender limbs that fold gracefully when she sits, an
effect that is quite at odds with her habit of hastily and unceremoniously
arranging her form in whatever awkward position seems most expedient. Her
fingers have the slim dexterity of one accustomed to precise handwork and
her muscles are toned from active lifestyle and employment. Yet her
movement manages never to be quite fluid, frequently enough taking a
roundabout path into large objects when she simply cannot spare the
attention to watch where she's going. Lightly waved hair so dark brown as
to be almost black falls in thick abundance down her back when loose,
framing a face of naturally tanned skin and mercurial black eyes. 

Claret is dressed in a well-worn tunic of a light golden brown. Breeches
and shirt of a darker, dry earth toned brown are worn underneath the tunic,
with a brown belt to secure the ensemble. A handy pouch hangs from the belt
and sturdy brown boots encase her feet. Her hair is braided back simply and
knotted at the base of her neck, and a weyrling's knot of black, white, and
green is pinned to her shoulder.


M'rek finishes off a little more laughter and then confirms, "Aye. I'll be
gone in a few days, Melata's coming to claim her wayward bronzer at last.
If there's anything left of me." And then he leans down and puts a kiss on
Kassima's cheek before saying, "I'm going to hold you to a ransacking of
bars that we can earn a ballad on." Lanisa, the protected weyrling, gets a
friendly wave and then M'rek stops over by Edris to tell her something
quiet on the way out that comes with a wink and another kiss, this one
blown in time to the wink.

M'rek mutters to Edris.

M'rek doesn't wait for a reply from the Harper, he just pockets another
cookie and strolls out.

M'rek walks out the main doors to the courtyard.

Kassima reddens at being kissed, but grins; grins and promises, "We'll do
that soon. Marcus and Hugh and the rest shall fear us mightily." She waves
that cookie she's been wielding after him, too, before finally putting the
poor thing out of its misery.

Lanisa grins lopsidedly, "It was quite the coo. The seating I mean" And now
she voices that opinion, relaxing some more now, just nibbling her cookie,
"And I'm happy enough to skip the tripe too. A little now and again, when
in the mood maybe, but in everything?" She nods though with the last,
"Certainly a good thing. I'd hate to see what extra work poor Tisiath would
have to do to keep them from falling otherwise." She waves after M'rek,
calling 'clear skies' in his wake and grins at Kassi, "He's cute."

Edris is finally supplied with her wine, and sets it on the tray that she
picks up again. She chuckles at Lanisa's comment though as she heads back
out with her supplies.

Edris climbs up the stairs to the second floor.

Claret turns her head as she watches M'rek pass her on his way out. Not to
be distracted for long, however, she gives an automatic salute to any she
deems are supposed to get one, and makes a rather jagged path toward Lanisa
and Kassima with a wave.

"I have t'wonder what the Lord will say t'him the next time he has him
alone," Kassi admits, shaking her head slightly. She's seated at the table
still, in some of her better finery, holding and periodically munching on a
cookie. "Mayhaps he'd be more inclined t'help Daikoth push 'em over. And
aye, he is, but," said with a grin to let Lani know she's teasing, "in a
monogamous relationship--so poor M'tri's heart is doubtless destined t'be
broken. You'll have t'comfort him. Claret!" No salutes from her tonight.
She just waves the cookie. "G'deve; glad you could make it, though you've
missed all but dessert. How fares?"

Lanisa waves back to Claret and then giggles, "That was quite an
interesting look he got, I'd say." Then rolling her eyes, "Let's hope
they'll both be good." A glance after the bronzerider again and she grins,
"Is he? Ahh well. Yes, I guess I will have to comfort Trii once I can then,
eh? Let's wait to tell him until later though. No need breaking his heart
after such a fine meal."

Claret slides into a seat with a little grimace, looking around her
vaguely, taking in the finery and more importantly, locating the dessert.
"Avrieth decided she needed an awful lot of attention this evening. Or
rather that I needed a long lecture. She simply couldn't be dissuaded. Oh,
and evening!" she tags on belatedly, then asking curiously, "What'd M'tri
do? Or what happened to him, rather."

Kassima is dry as dust in asking, "*Daikoth*? Be *good*? Is the Daikoth
you've met the same one I have?" Pause. Cough. "Err. 'Met' being a bad word
there, now, and... I'm just nay going t'think about that. I do agree with
you there. We don't want any convenient fire heights nearby when he learns,
either, lest he throw himself off of them in maudlin grief." She sets the
cookie down to clasp her hands over her heart, eyes rolling back as if
she'd pantomime a swoon of grief right in the chair. Thankfully, she
doesn't go that far. "Oh-oh. Lecture on what," she wonders of Claret, with
a grimace of sympathy, "or dare I nay ask? I don't think you're the only
Weyrling t'have some such problem. 'Twould seem that the latest bronzerider
M'tri's set his eye on--M'rek, this time, bronze Ulfianth's of High
Reaches--is in a relationship with someone else. He's going t'be *so*
devastated."

"He's good with Kai." Lani points out. "Maybe not with everything else, but
there at least." She even manages a straight face and a sage nod, "Poor
Trii. It seems he wont be able to add that one to his harem. At least any
time soon."

Claret blinks, echoing, "Fire heights? That really is too bad. I suppose
M'tri can't always have good luck with bronzeriders." Pausing to grab a
cookie of her own, she nods sagaciously. "He seems to have done well enough
already, as far as I can see." Wrinkling her nose in Kassi's direction, she
allows, "Well, if I were being charitable I could call it advice. It
abounds, more every day, it seems like, only what with being here, I
suppose I've been ignoring it. What I say to someone, the manner in which I
clean something, or... Something particular, occasionally." Waving her hand
dismissively to finish, she takes another look around.

"That's true," Kassi accedes with a nod. "He really is, and I should ask
Lyss t'ask him sometime *why*. Only I haven't the slightest whether he'd
answer her. They've an odd dynamic, Daikoth and Lyss. Aye! Poor M'tri. You
just know he was longing t'see M'rek in a loincloth too." The greenrider
sighs for such horrid, horrid misfortune as M'tri's. "That's *also* true.
J'len and V'lano have both admitted affairs with him, after all, and that's
nay small thing! Anyway, why exactly am I pitying m'wife for nay getting
t'cheat on me yet more? Have I had *that* much wine?" Her wine glass is
eyed. Then the cookies are eyed. "Or these could be Miner cookies. Oh... I
see, methinks. Like Dianneth with Ys when it comes t'clothes. Has it gotten
worse now that she's nigh grown?"

Claret nibbles the edge of her own cookie as she dips her head in assent.
"Rather like that, I think, yes. Oh, and with a good dose of gossip too.
That's time consuming. It must be since she's about grown, because she only
did it sometimes before, and now it's constant." Quirking her mouth, Claret
gives her head a shake. "If it comforts your newfound sentiments, I'm sure
M'tri will find some other bronzerider to add to his harem. Then he won't
have to resort to drastic measures from grief."

Lanisa chuckles, "Just let me know what he says to her then, eh?" Then
shaking her head, "I'm sure he was at that. Maybe I should go check on him.
Be sure he's not already knowing and disappointed." She slides to her feet,
"Anyway. Tisiath is calling. So I'll bid you both good night."

Kassima's interest is caught. Someone has said a magic word. "Is there
aught interesting among the gossip?" she wants to know. "Or is it more
along the lines of who went hunting today or that Calweth got his rider
t'oil him? Well, Faranth, I don't know *what* t'think of that. Cheating or
dead. Cheating or dead. How would be better?" Her pose of mulling over this
is overdone, likely on purpose. "Dilemmas, dilemmas... will do, Lani, and
m'greetings t'Tisiath as always. Clear skies t'you both, hey? And that *is*
a nice dress."

Claret raises her hand to give Lani a little wave. "Have a good night," she
adds in before turning an innocent shrug toward Kassi. "Oh, a little bit of
this and a little bit of that. Whatever she sees, you know. Very often it's
who gets oiled or who hunts or who's headed to where. Personally, I think
cheating's better than dead. On the other hand, M'tri must be quite a
trial. I suppose I'd get in vast amounts of trouble for advocating death.
Which is quite sensible," Claret allows.

Lanisa climbs up the stairs to the second floor.

"Aught about any people?" Kassima prompts, subtlety itself. "Like, oh,
whether Doralle and Pierron have been caught cuddling in her weyr, or
Bierra filched Roberta's pillow t'have for her very own? Who's headed
t'where is promising. There you've most kindly hit it." Which isn't to say
that Kassi doesn't bite her lip a couple of times to keep from grinning at
this assessment of her spouse. "He's a trial. But he's my trial. For some
reason. You'd be in vast amounts of trouble if'n you advocated death to a
Wingleader, naturally, but Wingleaders can't marry; isn't that so?
Therefore, when you advocate death t'M'tri's husband, you don't advocate it
to a rider at all. I'm sure that works out somehow, logically."

Claret nods cheerfully. "Oh, yes, plenty about people. Don't think she's
mentioned anything about Doralle and Pierron caught cuddling. I daresay she
comes up with quite a few tidbits about Roberta, though. Rather hard not
too, I expect. Not much of note." Curving her lips in a bright smile,
Claret ducks her chin in another nod. "Well, you seem to manage your
tribulations quite well. I suppose it is laudable that you haven't put into
action some fiendish plan that, if not involving death, involves something
unpleasant, as it stands." Creasing her brow, Claret thinks over the
remainder of Kassima's words for a brief moment. "Well. That is comforting,
I think, but I believe I'll avoid suggesting death all the same. Directly,
that is."

Kassima complains, leaning back in her chair, "You're just a *cruel*
mentee, telling me there's plenty about people and nay telling me *what*! I
suppose that means the Weyrlingmasters have taught you well." She affects a
modest look as she allows, "I've somehow learned how t'bear such trials,
although you can wager 'twasn't easy. And it's been *Turns* since I last
arranged t'have numbweed smeared on the inside of all his clothes. I don't
think he deserves me, do you?" She cracks a grin after that; she just can't
ask it with a straight face. "So noted. Would you suggest death in a
hypothetical, indirect way, then?"

Claret's eyebrows rise, accompanied by an innocent, "Me? Cruel? Oh dear.
How very distressing. It's all simply very uninteresting. Very. And of
course, you seem to be suspiciously curious, which helps my failing
memory," she notes earnestly. "To fail, that is." Eyeing her food
reflectively, Claret assents readily. "Oh, no, he doesn't deserve you in
the least. I admire your restraint. No numbweed smearing in turns! I
couldn't have managed. And yes, I expect I might -hypothetically- suggest
such a thing, but only in the -direst- of circumstances."

Kassima props her elbows on the table and laces her fingers together,
thumbs extended back to provide a convenient resting place for her chin.
"If'n I could yawn convincingly and look just *dreadfully* bored," she
inquires, "would that help? I could even pretend t'fall asleep. Briefly.
I'd nay want t'offend anyone, or make them think I actually *am* so bored
as t'fall asleep when their hospitality's been so very gracious. You see! I
knew 'twere a woman of excellent judgment and astuteness beyond measure,"
which is accompanied by her brightest beam and far-too-bright eyes. "Well,
direst, a'course. Such as?"

Claret tilts her head to the side consideringly. "If you were to affect the
greatest amount of indifference and boredom, I expect that would aid me
considerably. It wouldn't do, of course, to offend, though perhaps if you
dropped right into sleep they might just think you'd eaten and drank a bit
too much, and dozed off." Tapping her nose thoughtfully, Claret suggests,
"Well, I think it would be suitably dire in this situation if M'tri were to
do something dreadful like eat your favorite slippers. Hypothetically
speaking. Of course, you'd have to be -terribly- attached to your slippers,
because that on top of everything else would really be the last straw."

"Faranth, that's worse. Who wants Bitra thinking they can't hold their
liquor?" But nevertheless, Kassi stretches her arms up towards the ceiling
in the pose of a great and expansive yawn, slumping in her chair and
letting her eyes fall half-closed. "Couldn't be less interested if'n you
*paid* me," she reports, in the sort of tone she might use if she were
discussing a report on the precise number, shape, and size of the
rivergrains in each sack in the Store Rooms. "I'm about t'perish of boredom
right here and now. D'you... really think M'tri's *likely* t'eat slippers?
I mean, has he expressed some sort of compelling footwear fetish t'you? Nay
that I'm interested or naught. Couldn't care less. Yawn, yawn."

"Oh," Claret replies succinctly. "You're quite right. That sounds much
worse. I don't -recall- M'tri ever expressing some kind of footwear fetish,
but you never know. Something suitably dastardly. And there are, of course,
heaps of other situations in which one's behavior could be exceptionable."
Tapping her nose again, Claret begins, "Let's see... I seem do seem to
recall something about Roberta the other day. Uninteresting, naturally. She
was carrying something right suspicious, and being scolded by--Oh! How
unfortunate. It seems Avrieth's wanting me again." Unseating herself,
Claret offers a hazy salute. "Goodnight, then."

Kassima decides, "I'll have to ask him," and shouldn't that just be a
conversation for the ages. "Someday 'twill have t'plague you about these
heaps of situations. You have me thoroughly intrigued." As Claret starts to
talk, Kassi drops the bored pose and leans forward in her chair to
listen--but then she rocks back again, eyes widening in dismay and
appreciation. "*Evil*," she breathes. It's a compliment. "I'm so proud.
G'night, Claret; clear skies, and tell Avrieth heyla for me?"

Claret gives a bright grin. "I shall most certainly relay a greeting to
Avrieth. And I should be quite interested to hear the outcome of just such
a profitable discussion. I bet it'd be grand." Smiling beatifically, she
gives another substandard salute and heads out of the hall.

Claret walks out the main doors to the courtyard.

You enter the stairwell and climb up to the second floor.