Characters Neyuni, Ilyse, Kytaer, Emelene
Synopsis A booming party in the North Bowl.
Out-of-Character Date December 14, 2014

Igen Weyr - North Bowl
The relatively flat bowl is covered in a thin layer of pale sand and dust that shifts with the seasons. Contrastingly, the orange hued desert sandstone which comprises the bowl walls stretches skywards. Northwards is the smaller niche administrative complex, where the queen's and weyrleader traditionally make their home. The singular staircase running along the wind curved bowl wall can be traced connecting the ledges of the Weyr's leadership. To the northeast is the greater opening into the hatching grounds, with a smaller shadowed entrance for the dragons a few lengths above it. Most of the foot traffic however goes into smaller ground level entrances which lead into the heart of the living and dining areas. Set apart from the other areas a series of smaller entrances of varying size which lead into the infirmary and various crafter areas.

It's a pleasantly warm Igen evening. The sun has just set, its glow slowly fading from the horizon above the rim, and the cool of the night is only just drifting in. The bowl is set in a festive mood, with barrels and low tabletops dotting here and there. Places one can stand and put ones drink down, or snack without to much worry. The kitchen staff and caverns workers are in an especially good mood, and they circulate among the weyrfolk gathered. Some pass around and refill drinks. There is a choice of a tart chilled juice or a red wine blend imported from the north. Others circulate with trays of finger snacks. It appears that there are four different kinds of snack inwhich one can indulge. The kitchen clearly showing off its skills as well as thanks. it's almost as if its a precursor to the upcoming hatching feast but not /quite/ as elaborate.

Ilyse is fussing with her clothing as best she can. She still is mostly threadbare, even with the few meager half-marks she managed to gather being a drudge at her old residence. But she tries to bring herself to be presentable, even if her hair is not co-operating at all at the moment. Must be the desert air, but it's frizzy with a capital F. But that doesn't disuade her from hurrying to the gathering, and saluting and curtseying to those that she needs to do so.

Undoubtedly word has gotten around by now that one of the candidates, the techcrafter, got himself set briefly on fire while trying to adjust an electrical panel in the kitchens. Because that is the kind of thing that gets around. The candidate in question, Kytaer, still has his left (dominant! curse his luck!) hand wrapped up in a dressing to cover the wound, but otherwise looks … about as dapper as a still-growing sixteen-turn-old boy can. He's got a nice white shirt and clean dark pants, though he's also still wearing his tool belt. "No, 'm not getting a special fancy dress one," is his excuse for the same tool belt as ever, as he breaks away from his journeyman and his friends to go mingle on his own.

With duties complete for the evening, Emelene has switched from simple and sturdy work clothes for loose deep purple skirts and a cream-hued tunic, strands of golden bells and shells on ankle and wrist. Her hair is bound in a loose braid so as not to be plagued by wind as she walks across the bowl towards the casual gathering. She offers smiles and greetings to those she passes and has familiarity with, asking after a few and how they're feeling.

Neyuni appears to have escaped the burning heat of the hatching grounds and meanders into the festivities. With the saga of the construction behind them and a nice sized clutch to bolster the weyr in the days ahead she has a lot which adds to the spring in her step. She's dressed lightly and not particularly dancy. Ever more practical than presentable the clothes are at least clean if not setting any fashion trends. She seems to be looking for certain folks and perhaps its that reasons she isn't looking where she really needs to be, that is where she is going. She nearly bumps into Ilyse and comes to a sudden stop "Oh, so sorry!"

"Oh, no… I'm sorry Weyrwoman." Ilyse says as she takes a few steps back. "I wasn't paying much attention." Ilyse's hands go to her hair and she tries to tug it into submission as she speaks. "And I'm sorry that I.." She flushes with embarassment, motioning to her clothing. "It's all I've got. Everyone else is dressed." She motions over towards Emelene as she notices her. "See?" She goggles. "That probably cost 3 marks by itself." She makes it sound like a unreachable sum of money. "I'm Ilyse. A Candidate." She looks at her shoulder. "Like you couldn't see the knot or anything." Heh… Yeah, foot meet mouth.

Kytaer - who is not actually wearing his knot - has to stop and actually pay attention to where he's going enough to not bump into Neyuni, making the distractable tendency almost an epidemic of literal party crashing. But only almost, as it's been nothing but near misses. "Love your hair," he tells Ilyse, and it's genuine. Honest. Tiny grin and all. He likes frizzy, it seems.

"Good evening!" Emelene says once she's close enough to the grouping to be heard by candidates and Weyrwoman alike. Not that the faint tinkling note of her adornments don't announce her coming in advance. "Lovely little gathering, isn't it? Always nice to have a reason to enjoy a night outside and couldn't have picked a better one. Not that we have much chance of getting rained out but it'd stand the one day you plan an event…"

Neyuni shakes her head "Oh no, totally my fault. I seem to have tuned out where I was putting my feet there for a minute. Well met candidate Ilyse. Afraid I'm still getting to know all of the new faces." and then there are others she knows a bit more as she is nearly bumped into by Kytaer in turn. Seems shes in a mood to roll with it, nodding a greeting to Emelene as she comes by. "True enough, you'd better not jinx me." and it seems to be good timing as on of the steward's staff taps her arm and speaks in low tones. "yes, yes it's dark enough." The trays of snacks abruptly dissapear as the kitchen shifts to the next course. Attention returnign to those nearest she adds conversationally "Now, I do hope you enjoy the evenings entertainment."

From the star stones far, far above a single distinct bugle echoes. It is both warning and annoucnement, any dragons which had been skyborn find themselves either a perch, their weyr or a spot on the ground. Once the skies are clear of all but the twinkling of stars a flame can be seen flickering on that distant height. There is a softer sputter that echoes down, a hiss of a rocket launching its cargo higher above the bowl ending in a spectacular starburst. Brilliant blues and silvers hang in the air for that briefest moment before flickering out.

"Oh, well.. thanks." Ilyse blushes before she looks upwards as the fireworks are set off and she oohs. "Wow!" She motions upwards, "That's amazing!" She sounds overjoyed at that. "And thank you, uh…" She asks of Kytaer, and Emelene. "I'm Ilyse." Her hand is held out, her right. "I'm a candidate too." She ohs and snaps her fingers, withdrawing her hand instantly before embarassedly putting it back out there for the others. "Sorry." She turns to the Weyrwoman. "Ma'am, may we paint the Candidate's barracks walls?"

"Tae," says Kytaer, still not inclined to give his full name. "I remember you, sort've - I mean, I've. Seen you. In the barracks and stuff." Not that he sees other candidates much during the day, because he's generally stil dedicated to his work, which is currently continuing to improve the kitchen situation. He does shake hands, given the opportunity, though - and then Ilyse's question to Neyuni has one eyebrow rising skyward.

"Emelene." Says the woman in skirts. "Journeyman Healer here." Should it still be extended, she would shake the offered hand in turn. Warnings from Neyuni bring a quiet chuckle from her and a, "Doubt I can jinx the weather, not that a gentle rain would hurt once in awhile. But.. I'll take those in the skies just fine." She turns her eyes skyward. Mention of giving the barracks a fresh coat of paint brings a grin to her face, though for the moment she just watches the fireworks in enjoyment.

Neyuni watches the first of the fireworks explode and lets out a sigh which sounds rather relieved. As to the question, there's an intiial reaction, which from her expression is pretty much not in your life don't even think about it, but given there might be reason behind the request she leaves the slimmest crack of an opening for consideration "Talk to the headwoman." oh look, she's learned to delegate! Although its not unlikely that she'll have a say in the matter in the end anyhow.

"Alright." Ilyse says, grinning a bit impishly at that before she looks up at the fireworks again before Tae's words bring her back to focus. "Seen and remembered me?" She asks, her own eyebrows raising even if she blushes at the same time. "Nice to meet you Tae, and you as well Emelene. I /love/ that outfit. It's so very pretty."

"In th'barracks, which, why are we painting -" Kytaer was going to ask why they were being painted white, at least theoretically, but as the fireworks continue the technician's brain overrides the candidate's sense of solidarity, and he's no longer conversational. No, he's watching. And thinking.

The staff returns and this time its a course of deserts. One can nab a custard cup full of shaved ice with a sweet citrus syrup and curl of citrus peel around a sprig of mint. The other selectin is a buttery cookie in a firework starburst shape, glazed and sprinkled with drops of blue and green. There seems to be some debate amongst the crowd as to the particular flavor of the cookie. overhead the fireworks continue in twos and threes in a steady pace. After about ten minutes the show reaches its finally with several dozens going off over a single minute in all manner of colors. The last echoes fade from the bowl and the dragon again trumpets, giving the all clear to those who had remained clear of the skies. IN the bowl the normal night lighting is flicked on so that those gathered are not completely in the dark.

"A pleasure, Ilyse." Emelene says before looking down to her outfit. "Oh! Thank you. I.. spend all day wearing trousers for my duties. They're so stuffy. I wear skirts when I can. These," She gives her wrist a slight shake, setting adornments rattling. "I like the sound. I can't wear them working, though I keep a rattle of shells for the little ones when they're having a rough time. I… probably spend far more of my earnings than I should on them but hey, you gotta spoil yourself when you can!" She collects up one of the cookies, watching the last of the show with a smile. "They're beautiful. Ah! …my superior is waving me down. I adore the woman but she really needs to learn to relax. Excuse me! Oh.. Tae, don't forget, first thing in the morning I want to check that hand of yours!" And the healer is moving off to see what the fuss is about this time.

An appreciated applause comes from Ilyse as the firewords show ends and she ohs and shakes her head. "Not covering it with paint….painting it, like a mural." She murmurs, even if the Weyrwoman is right there. "But now, I think we need to find some.." She reaches out and snags a cookie as it passes by Emelene. "These." She munches on it, happily.

Neyuni misses the details of the painting, mind lingering on the end of the fireworks. Eyes blinka few times against the lights and she manages to snare one of the shaved ices. She only gets a spoonful before she's being waved down by another and sighs "If you'll excuse me there's something I better go deal with."

"Food," Kytaer finishes Ilyse's sentence with a wry grin and claims one too, waving the mangled-bandaged hand at the parting Healer. "Ill be along," he promises, and then has to repurpose the hand to salute the Weyrwoman as she departs. And as soon as she's gone, he stops standing at his full height and sags slightly, shoulders folding inward. "Hopefully muraling can wait until I have my painting hand back."

"Well, we've got to get permission." Ilyse tells him before she continues to munch on the cookie. "And if not, we've got to find a time to do it when we wont get caught." She says, snickering. "Lets go wander around, look at all the goods."

And so they do - catching up to a few other candidates and mulling about, though Kytaer's constantly stopping to examine objects, try to figure out how they work, and gush about the fireworks. He's not the best company at social events; it's gushing or grumbling, and at least the candidate class seems content to let him gush.

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