The Gather At Blue Fire Hold

Blue Fire Hold - Central Hold
The crushed shell road from the harbor wends its way through palms and lush vegetation before splitting in a Y, one branch heading further inland to the gas field, the other to the hold proper.

Constructed of pale-colored shell and limestone coquina blocks, this thick-walled hold remains cool even during the summer months, partially due to the wide porch that wraps around the entire building. A small working hold, Blue Fire is utilitarian in organization: a large rectangular room with simple wooden tables and benches serves for dining, socialization, and meetings. The floors, made of the same coquina stone as the cream-colored walls, are polished to a shine and kept scrupulously clean.

The lanterns are lit over head, the breezes calm and the scent of tropical flowers and a feast spread. The Harper's stage is set and a small band is playing a little upbeat music while a man dressed in his finest is off to the side, going over a list with a musician. He steps away and clears his throat, glacing over to the main tables to see it vacant and then he knows he's safe for now. Alexryin weaves through the incoming guests, sneaking up behind Litrel where he manages to get a drink… and a… pickle? He shrugs, and quickly gets out of sight long enough to consume the drink. The pickle? He'll uh… just hold it. Back to the stage, he clears his throat. "Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for joining us on this fine evening. I am Alexryin, son to Lord Alexavanian and Lady Halyria, and we welcome you to Blue Fire Hold. Please, help yourself to drink, to dance, to one another but mind the table cloths. Mother is partial to them." With a little bow, the man is quick to depart the stage. He's gotta do something with this pickle…

Catwin is circulating, though every now and then she eyes Litral and just shakes her head. Help these days. It's not what it used to be. She has a flask in hand and is drinking it here and there. Such a wonderful way to keep the stress down after all. She's stopped by one person and starts talking about the wines newly delivered to the Weyr and other myriad Vintner business.

What's a good place for that Seamount bronzerider that didn't want to be here to begin with? As far and out of the way as humanly possible, that's where. Leaning back against one of the supports for the lights overhead as far from the party goers as he can and still say he was attending, J'en grabs a drink off a passing tray and decidedly does not take a pickle. The man distributing the brine soaked veggies is eyed wordlessly instead, giving a light pull of his dress jacket. It looked exactly like his riding jacket, but it was considerably less broken in and comfortable. So he sips at whatever fruity beverage he'd managed to obtain in his self-imposed solitude, golden eyes sweeping over the guests and keeping a look out for…whatever. Call him security if you like.

T'lon has helped himself to one of those pickles. Big and delicious. There's a near audible crunch as he bites into it. Quite good. He wanders about checking out the various vendors and contemplating about buying anything or not.

A woman slowly wanders out, her hands tucked within her sleeves as she leisurely makes her way across the courtyard. Her voluminous black hair is swept up and pinned into place and the flowing gown hugging her body is the deepest shade of purple. With her pale appearance, she takes on a rather spooky image. The help staff quickly step aside, letting her pass as she makes her way to the main table. A look of disdain is left for one of the seats and she merely shrugs, moving away before dragged back due to formalities. "Alexryin! Where are these pickles people keep telling me about. I want one before your father finds me." Her wine hued lips are pulled down in a playful scowl and she does manage to wink towards an unsuspecting rider. Poor man. He will be remembered.

K'lar makes his way into the party, rolling his eyes in mild amusement. Though, whatever the rider is thinking it is kept to himself. A brow arches upon his forehead as he is offered a pickle, eyeing the vegitable with mirth. "Ah, yes, I would certainly like a pickle, I think they are quite lovely. And I am sure Zeleth will want some knowing her. I promised I'd bring some food bacak to her." He laughs in amusement, slipping some coin over towards the man with a playful wink of his own. A smile stretches at the corners of his lips, his attention spanning upon the stage as greetings are announced.

The music begins to play a little louder and there's a decent hum of people. Some dancing and some gathering together in corners. Mostly muttering and rumors about that one Half Moon Bay bronzerider. You know, the questionable one. No where near virtuous as those Monaco Bay ones.

D'lei is casually dressed today, though still respectable looking in a short sleeved shirt with blue pinstripes against white and loose trousers whose cuffs can be buckled up for riding but otherwise left loose for airflow. His jacket has been left with Garouth, the bronze settled back among the other dragons… with strict instructions to behave himself! Or. Else. Like a proper Monaco Bay bronze, not some Half Mooner. So, now D'lei is here, arriving together with Serena and offering a cheerful smiles and wave of greeting to K'lar when he notices him.

At least the pickles are popular. Teach her to not trust her rather playful bartenders. Catwin moves along the edge of the crowd again, happily inoculating herself with drink. This has got to be one of the more unpleasant duties of her rank. Being social. A smile is pasted on her face as she attempts to look pleased at being here.

Alexryin begins to weave through the crowds now that he knows his father is actively engaged elsewhere. After another drink is secured, he manages to find a safe corner to hide in for a moment of fresh hair beside J'en. He takes a sip of his drink and sighs, peering at the pickle in his hands and he holds it out in offering. "Want my pickle?" He may or may not be grinning a little bit. All in good fun, of course.

Serena is there too standing next to D'lei. See Half Moon riders and Monaco riders can get along! She is dressed in a fine looking dress of a soft dark green material that her dragon no doubt picked out for her, Sami is the one with the fashion sense not Serena, but all the same Serena is here, at a party no less. Her eyes are wide as she surveys the crowd, "There are lots of people here." she says mostly to D'lei. Samiryth is also hanging back with the other dragons, the very model of good behavior. Someone from Half Moon has to be have after all.

Getting serenaded by the pickle vendor, because that's what the guy will be forever known as, R'en goes over and get she single handedly largest pickle that anyone has ever seen (or is available) and sticks it in his mouth. Don't mind that there's pickle juice dribbling down his chin, over his vest, possibly other places unseen due to shadows and other things. He manages to get the whole tip of it in his mouth and snaps it off with a grin. Right about the time there's pickles being offered elsewhere. He then looks as though he's going to wander right back out like it's the only thing he came here for, to snap a bit off a pickle.

Well, it's a good he's no half moon bronzer, T'lons just a simple and unassuming Xanadu bronzerider. And one with his eyes casting around and there's a smile for everyone. Especially the girls. Though the lady of the hold is eyed a little warily. That is one he may not try and flirt with. Pickle is finished as he wanders. Passing by a R'en he gesture to his chin "Got a little something dripping off there. Might wanna, you know, wipe that off." is suggested with a cheeky grin.

K'lar smiles widely to R'en and D'lei as they are spotte, but then the greenrider seems to get right down to the business he came here for. Being social. The greenrider, whom is certainly not a bronzerider so therefore is very much not questionable, is quickly seen weaving in through the crowds, chatting people up.

Did someone say a questionable Half Moon Bay bronzer? Enter R'hyn, stage left, with a mug of something that might be klah but might also be comprised entirely of alcohol. It's anyone's guess, really, for the rider is ever-presently cheerful, and today seems no exception. "'Scuse, pardon, Half Moon's duties, ooh, you look nice, Serena, who's your friend?" Words pour from the over-sized man's mouth with no attempt at checking them, even as blue-grey eyes lift and seize on R'en's ginormous pickle. "Faranth," R'hyn utters with the kind of expression one wields when they're trying so hard not to let on how they actually feel about their newly-minted Weyrsecond sporting giant-pickle dribble on his face and just… No. Best not linger. Sideways he shuffles, sidling up to poor trying-to-enjoy-herself-Catwin with a grin. "Salutations. Having fun?" Words are dispensed even as eyes are ever roaming, catching on J'en and Alexryin over yonder with a nod of acknowledgement before his gaze catches back on Catwin, brows lifting to complete his inquiry.

Cita is here! It's unclear how she got here, but here she is, flouncy sundress and wide-brimmed hat to shade her face and all.
Somebody has to care about skin care. The healer is completely bereft of massive healer-bags and books, and looks a little naked for it, but she's fine. She looks only a little uncomfortable: she's got this. Partying! Right! Thus, a glass of something bright in fruity in one hand, Cita shuffles on over to the vendors. Are those pickles? Cue long, loong face — a grimace-y kind of frown, for the vendor and customers. "That supposed to go well with the drinking and dancing?" Cita ventures, eyebrows raising, grinning just a little.

Ever watching, ever seeing, golden eyes go. J'en is however paying little attention to Alexryin until the man manages to sneak up on him, nearly removing a few layers of skin in the process. Sucking in a breath, he glares down the Blue Fire Hold's one and only heir with all the murderous intent that would probably get him killed in an instant, if he actually meant it. Instead of being arrested and tried before a jury of his peers, the bronzerider's attention remains on the older man's blue eyes as he leans over and wraps his lips around the pickle still being held before him, teeth are quickly applied and soon he's chewing as his attention wanders elsewhere. "Shouldn't ya be minglin' with the guests or somethin'?" he asks, his Istan accent no less thick than it ever was. A single finger is extended for R'hyn when the man looks over that way, soon tucked away into the pocket of his jacket. Oh, he saw him come in alright. Sneaky bastard.

D'lei grins, and nods to Serena. "Sure are. Quite a few pickles, too…" He hehs as he watches R'en go for one with… gusto, yeah, call it that! "Are they a local special around here or something?"He grins again as he sees K'lar running off. "Well, he'll be busy," he says to Serena. "Maybe we'll manage to run into him later, though."But for now? There's R'hyn, and D'lei offers a friendly smile and - assuming Serena introduces them - his hand.

"No." is said quite simply and then Catwin sighs and just smiles all the more "But fun is not what I am here for. It's to do my duty and make sure there's plenty of wine and drink to be had from the booth and to make a proper reprenstation. I'd rather be back home." She looks around a little and then offers the flask of whiskey, just because she's not thrilled to be here doesn't mean she has to be stingy "Drink?"

"What, you ain't never seen a man eat a pickle before?" R'en asks, arching a brow at T'lon and then wiping his chin of the pickle juice with a forearm. He sighs, watching as greetings are given here and there, a hand lifted to greet D'lei and K'lar when they're picked out of the crowd but for the most part, he seems quite content over here with the largest pickle - nobody has a larger one than him - and he leans against a wall with a prop of a leg to hold it up. Or him up. Doesn't matter which, but his blue eyes flicker over this grouping and that, trying to figure out which people are going for what others. Making little bets in his mind over who's going to go out of the gather arm in arm, or body over shoulder.

Serena smiles kindly to R'hyn at his compliment, "Hello R'hyn I don't think I've seen you in forever. Thank you." she says in response. She motions over to the Monaco Bronzerider, "This is D'lei." She glances back over toward D'lei, "He's from Monaco." Which means he is totally, completely, and utterly respectible. "D'lei this is R'hyn he's a bronzerider from Half moon." She glances through the crowd and sees pickles, and her stomach gurgles, "I need a pickle." she says to D'lei, R'hyn or honestly anyone there to hear her say it. Serena needs to eat the foods!

Alexryin peers down at his pickle and shrugs, taking another bite from it. "That's a good pickle. Don't worry, mother is roaming and while I shouldn't be happy about that, it's entertaining. And… I think she has her eyes on someone already. Watch this." He chuckles quietly, nodding his head in greeting to those who passes by and he watches the woman in purple intently. Target spotted. The woman in her dark purple flowing robes, looking like she crawled out of a crypt is gliding on unseen feet. Soon enough, she ends up before that Half Moon bronzerider with an innocent seeming handkerchief in hand. "Oh dear, you have a little juice there on your chin. Why don't you *ahem* clean that up before my motherly instincts kick in. Unless you do like to be mothered." Poor R'hyn, we knew him well.

"Oh, I've seen a man eat a pickle before, but I've never seen one /eat/ one quite like you. Quite impressive I must say." T'lon teases a little "Never seen anyone enjoy it quite like that. Nope, not at all. Yup, he's a little cheeky and off the lad goes moving in through the crowd. He's having fun. No doubt about it. There's a curious look for the lady of the day and then eyes wide a little as he watches her descend upon R'hyn. Now this might prove interesting to watch.

"If you like my pickle eating skills, you should see some of my others. I'm very skilled with my hands." R'en says, continuing to hold the wall up with a foot and his rear as he watches skeletor descend on some other poor bronzerider. He takes another bite, and peruses to see if there's anyone interesting looking that isn't just looking for a piece of rear - wait, are we all here for that? Well, his is safe against the wall, so there's that. There's a stifled yawn, who knows why he's tired, but there you have it.

Having little to no success, K'lar moves back over towards a spot to gossip with a random person. "Interesting enough party." K'lar says as he attaches a plastic bag full of pickles to a belt at his side. Possibly to feed Zeleth later, or else himself. He wraps his arms abouch his chest, tilting his head to the side.

Does R'hyn even need introductions? He doesn't, but he appreciates Serena's efforts anyways, taking D'lei's hand and giving it a solid shake. "A pleasure, D'lei. R'hyn, Xermiltoth's. Monaco, is it? Heard lovely things, but I've somehow never been." As for Serena: "It has been ages. Pretty sure last time you saw me, I was wearing— well, not this." This time R'hyn is respectably dressed and not covered in body glitter. Ahem. As for J'en over there, HE SAW THAT. One hand lifts high into the air, and by virtue of being 6'3" and also a butthead, the single-fingered salute is returned with gusto with a smile. Blue-grey eyes flicker back to Catwin with a chuckle and a wry, "Doesn't mean you can't enjoy it, but I can understand that. Thank you," is said to the offer of whiskey, taking a grateful (FATEFUL) sip before passing the flask back. "Dark ale from Fort? Has some kind of nasty name I can't remember, but it's lovely." His mug is offered in kind, just in time for CERTAIN DOOM to descend upon the party, and I don't mean Alex's mom. HELLO CITA. So nice of you to join us. The Healer is waved to, briefly, before sudden attention from a very cryptastic, very purple figure disrupts what likely would have been something rude. Brows lift as the hold's lady glides up to him (totally not creepy at all), gaze flicking from kerchief to face to outfit and back with a stumble-uttered, "D-do I?" Alas, poor R'hyn; he's never had a sense of self-preservation, and why start now, honestly. "I never knew my mother, so I'm afraid I wouldn't know." RIP R'hyn. It was a good run.

A line of servers walk down the centerline, standing beside a long table where they all turn and place down a large platter each. Roasted wherry and seasoned beast lines the tables. A variety of fish other seafood is also introduced into the mix with vegetables other greenery cradling the selections. Fresh herbal breads are piled high, glistening from sugary glazes and simple sweet butters in the lantern light. A second table is set up and it is covered with confections, sending their sweet aroma into the breeze. The staff leave in quick order, allowing the guests to descend upon the spread like a flock of firelizards. There are no pickles at these tables.

J'en shrugs one shoulder upwards, still crunching away on that very crisp bite of pickle, deciding against fruity beverage after that and so the single sip taken glass is redeposited upon another passing tray. "S'll 'ight. 'ad better." Post-swallow, there's an actual half-smirk that even if he was busy watching the crowd, now slipping his freed up hand into the other pocket. As for R'hyn and his high fly bird? IGNORED, with a lowering of dark lashes and a slight upturn of his chin. Oh he saw it, but he wasn't going to give the copyfeline the time of day further what he had aleady. At the holder's insistance though, he finds the man's mother among those milling about, a brow arching for the purple robed woman, and he follows her progression until her target becomes known, then his gaze is decidedly elsewhere with a soft dismissive snort. "No accountin' for taste I guess." Citayzleat's attendance is quickly thereafter noted with a jerk upwards of his chin in greeting, should she so happen to glance his way.

D'lei does get a wave back to R'en in there, but he knows better than to get between a man and his pickle. As sensible as he is respectable! ..and also, he's got some great patches of jungle he'd like to sell you. Fabulous deals, no swamps whatsoever and definitely no wild felines to tear your face off. "Nice to meet you," he says to R'hyn along with that shake, and a nod. "Garouth and I are from Monaco, yep. You should find a chance to visit sometime! You never know what you might find." His crooked smile arrives half a second late, but never mind that. There's catching up between R'hyn and Serena, and also some catching up with. Of doom! …at least for R'hyn, but doom is dangerous in its tendency to spread. But what's this? He also gets a convenient excuse to escape, and so he grins to Serena. "I'll get you one!" …and off he goes. Escaped! …for now. Maybe he'll even grab some other food to go with that pickle!

T'lon simply grins at R'en "Are you now?" The scent of newly arrived food gets his attention. And his stomach as it rumbles quite loudly in response. Well R'en and poor R'yhn are momentarily forgotten as he heads towards the tables. Then something catches his eyes and he head tilts a moment as he passed by K'lar "That's an awful lok of pickles you got there. Oh my." He gives a sweet and innocent grin.

Yeah, no. If she's going to be harking up her toenails later, it's at least not going to be comprised mainly of pickles. Citayzleat chooses a far tamer basket of something fried, picking at it daintily as she paces 'round the edges of the dancers. "Does that include paperwork? I hear," Like she doesn't get it from the source? "That things are a little…hectic, in the offices." The journeyman ventures, pausing R'en-adjacent with raised eyebrows and crunching on a fried-something. The very purple figure hover-gliding over to R'hyn is deeply unwelcome — but Cita is smart enough to not go rushing over to stop the spit-hanky-ing, and besides? It's a little funny. Just. Just a tiny bit. Cita wiggles her fingers, jaunty. She'll come swoop in and save his hide if she needs to; or J'en's, greeted with a bright smile, close enough to possibly be in the creepy mothering zone. "Who is that woman?"

Spit-hanky-ing? You betcha! It the super obnoxious motherly way when she grabs his chin and proceeds to scrub. "Oh dear, I don't know how you boys get so messy. Tsk, tsk. There. Momma Halyria has you all tidied and handsome." With a nice little pat, the Lady Holder skips off happily for another victim.

K'lar laughs as T'lon passes, giving a slight shrug of his shoulders. "What can I say, I'm fond of pickles. And, besides, Zeleth'll get quite upset if I don't bring her something back from the party. I'll have to grab a couple more things with the way she's talking about all the scents she can smell. At least it is keeping her /here/ and not getting lost like she usually does." A glance is shot over his shoulder towards the dragons, as if assuring himself his green didn't get herself lost again.

Yes! The fashion show that the candidates put on was the very last time that Serena was able to talk to him. And that was long ago! And it seems that the poor man is being, is accosted the right word?, by the dreaded lady in purple! Purple is just the worst! She glances back toward D'lei who has promptly abandoned her, but says that he is going to get her pickles, so he will be forgiven upon his return whenever that may be. She looks back toward R'hyn after the woman continues about her merry way, "Wow." is all she can say.

Catwin takes the offered mug and hmms and gives a nod "Very hearty." she says and actually smiles. Nothing like sharing drinks. And then /She/ descends. Oh dear. Catwin eyes the lady and then as the handkerchief descends, she can't help but smirk and is that a giggle? Oh my it is. She can't help herself, she hits a fit of them.

Shanatea has been wandering here and there, lost in the Gather crowd. But now he spots a certain twin of his through the crowd and heads in that direction. Getting hit on by the pickle Vintner, he pauses semi-awkwardly for a moment and then accepts said pickle, briefly grimacing before dissappearing from the vintners sight and sneaking not so sneakily towards T'lon. He steps up behind him and waves the pickle at his brother. "T'lon, long see, no time." he comments to him, waggling the disgustingly scented, almost offensive thing at the shorter rider-twin. "Gross green thing, brother?" He offers him the pickle.

Okay, food can wait. This sounds rather interesting "Your dragon get lost?" T'lon asks curiously "How do you handle that? I mean don't you know where she's at and all?" He looks over towards the dragon where Saumath is sorta of dancing in place to the sound of the harpers "I'd be a bit frantic if mine kept getting lost." Then there's a pickle in his face. He turns and grins as he gives Tea a big hug "Hey!" He then bites down on his brother's pickle and mumbles "Thanks."

"All the time, she can never remember where she is…or…anything, really. Sometimes she'll rise for flight and forget what she was doing. It's rather embarassing sometimes." A hand rubs at the back of his head. "Well, she has me, so I help her. I don't know what she'd do without me, probably get lost between. I lose her sometimes because she doesn't know where she is or how she got there, so I have to make sure she doesn't get too far away." As the new man approaches, K'lar offers a friendly little wiggle of his fingers.

Alexryin feigns a look of hurt at J'en! Kicked puppy level of hurt but then he smirks before letting his eyes wander back through the crowds. He takes a deep breath, holding it as he glances from face to face and that smirk slowly melts into a face of someone finally accepting their doom. "Mother is going to kill him," he murmurs, watching the pathways and the people slipping in and out. He'll wait a little longer. A man comes up behind him and whispers in Alexryin's ear, and he scowls, whispering harshly back. The man vanishes and his shoulders sag. "I better go out and be the fine non… hanky wiping son my parent's raised me to be." He takes a couple steps, then turns back, "Unless you need one." Alex winks then laughs as he slips through the crowds.

You're all a BUNCHA COWARDS, leaving poor R'hyn to his— not-doom? Rapid blink-blinking occurs for the gripping of his chin, the over-tall bronzer stooping to allow her spit-hanky access to his chin, obedient to a fault. There might be some protest for the scrubba-dub-dubbing in the form of a wrinkled nose and a squinted eye, but ultimately he's just left staring at the place the Lady Holder had just occupied, gaze lifting to track her progress back into the crowd. Beat. Beat. "Did that just happen?" More blinking, and a point. "That was Halyria?" APPARENTLY. "Well. She's perfectly lovely," R'hyn says as he rightens, smudging away at any leftover spittle (gross) as he turns back to company, vaguely nonplussed. "Anyways. What were we talking about? Monaco? Booze? I definitely need more of that." His mug is gratefully taken back from Catwin, downing a healthy mouthful before he asks, "Did you import anything fun for the event?" What? He's an ex-bartender, sue him.

Shanatea smirks and nods, pushing the rest of the pickle into his brother's hand. "No problem. You know I can't stand them." he wrinkles his nose a bit and wipes his hand on a scrap of cloth fetched from his pockets. He, of course, returns the hug and then pats his brother a little on the head before his hands disappear into his pockets. "The guy kinda wouldn't take no for an answer…." He admits, waving to some other watercrafter type through the crowd before his attention turns back to the twin. "And how are you? And Saumath? Mom? Dad?" Yes, ask after the entire family.

Catwin gets herself back under control there and takes a sip of her whiskey "Oh, there are a few special drinks being served and all, should go take a look at the booth and see what you can order." Her eyes twinkle a bit "Course, there's some whiskey from my uncles, very good stuff it is. And one of the local beers, not to bad. Kinda light but it has some flavor to it."

Alexryin approaches R'hyn, already holding both hands up to show he isn't wielding any handkerchiefs or any other unsuspecting weapons. "Rider, I am so sorry for um, my mother. I think I need to get her a puppy. Please, help yourselves to the feast while I… ensure all the other guests are doing well." And not being groomed by his mother.

T'lon ohs a little as he listens, finishing up that pickle bite before saying anything "Maybe you should get a bell for her? Then you could hear her where ever she loses herself too?" Course now he has a second pickle to work on. And thus another bite. He's still trying to grow after all and not be doomed to be short forever. Tea gets a look "Well, if you'ld come visit you'd know. They're doing great though, they'd love to see you. And Saumath his quite happy, though he's been a pain. He was doing great in a flight and he just dropped back. Stopped chasing. Wasn't worth it he said."

While D'lei is off in search of the treasure that is a pickle, that leaves Serena free to continue her chat with the new dis-engaged R'hyn, "You are so polite." she says with a chuckle at the man's behavior. She probably would have been far less accomodating, "I'm not real sure what we were talking about. Lost my train of thought." The lady in purple will do that to you! "So I suppose I could just ask you what you've been up to?" she says with a slight smile, "Participated in anymore fashion shows?"

K'lar shakes his head, "Tried that, hard to hear her when she's no where near me. You'd be surprised the distance she can cover in such a short span of time." Speaking of his green, he pushes himself off of his spot to let the two brothers speak amongst themselves and returns to his dragon. Better to keep her in sight.

Stepping in from the landing area Kassala walks arm and arm with Riohra. The tall hunter is looking around when he sees Catwin he steers the pair over towards her booth saying to Kassala "The healer did say I can have at least 'one' drink". As the pair move over they both give the vintner a wave, and a smile "Hey there".

Sliding gold eyes to Alexryin and all that pouting, J'en actually chuckles at the man, back to people watching quickly enough along with his expression returning to its general mask of neutrality. "We can hope." is muttered, pointedly not looking the way of his reluctant friend's mother or the bronzerider she was assulting. A server with a tray of ale isn't stopped, but the mug that Jae takes from it quickly sloshes a bit, leading the Half Moon rider to suckle a bit on his own drenched fingers. A deadly look is given the holder heir when he drops his final comment, lashes lowering once more. "Come see meh later, Alex." His gaze follows the man until he approaches R'hyn, and then it's off again, most of his face disappearing behind his mug as he wagers an experiemental sip.

A group of four or five holders are whispering amongst themselves, one or two of them peeking over to look at K'lar, they're back to chattering by the time a server passes through, obscuring them from view. Boisterous laugher soon ensues.

Shanatea shrugs, being decent enough to offer a sad look toward his brother. "I would, but they keep me hopping." he notes with a pout. "I DO actually enjoy our parents." he adds with a bit of a sigh. He arches an eyebrow however. "Lazy, tsk, tsk. Poor draggie." he teases. He does offer a polite nod towards K'lar, and a smile, because thats what he does. Whoops, chased him off.

There might be a minor cheeky tongue-flick for Catwin having to regain her composure at all - oh sure, have fun at his expense! - but it comes and goes in an instant, replaced by avid interest. "Your uncle makes whiskey?" Cue a point at her flask. "That whiskey?" Because if so, color him interested! "Fascinating. I can't imagine that's simple work." Alexryin's approach is marked with a nod of acknowledgement, followed swiftly by a rolling chuckle. "Don't be. She's… charming," he says with some attempt at tact, even if overbright eyes might give him away. "A puppy might not be the worst idea, though." Twinkle. As for enjoying the feast, "I will, thank you. I hope you find time to as well. R'hyn, by the way," gets offered along with a shake of the hand. "Polite? Nah. She was just being nice. Just a bit unorthodox about it maybe," he says towards Serena, shoulder lifting in a shrug. "As for me, not much, and thankful for it. Weyrmate's daughter just impressed a gold at Xanadu, so visiting there a lot in my free time. No fashion shows though, no. If you were to set another one up though…" A gamely shrug, as though to imply he'd attend. "What about you?"

T'lon ahs a little and nods and then starts to suggest that maybe attaching a firelizard to the silly green might help when the greenrider heads off to his grin. The young man blinks a moment and scratches at his head as he looks at Tea "Was it something I said?" A pause and then he sniffs at his armpits. "Nah. Doesn't smell too bad." He shrugs a little and then takes a nice bite out of the big pickle. "Well, I know, busy with craft duties and all. At least you were able to come on out here."

K'lar pauses as people look his way, laughing at him. A brow arches ever so slightly, "I don't think I'm that funny." He muses to himself and moves towards Zeletn, "Let's head home, least I know the area better." And the pair are off.

Serena 's life has been quiet, well up until recently anyway. "I don't know how much time I'm going to be having to work on stuff like that. It's more Samiryth's thing than mine." The dragon was the master of fashion not the woman, "I've been busy with wingduties. I was doing delieveries and stuff until recently." She sort of half smiles and goes on, "I just transferred though because, I umm, I'm having a baby and can't do delieveries anymore." Might as well start telling people since it will be obvious before too long.

A pale-haired woman in a very fancy party dress slides past R'hyn far too close not to be deliberate, her dark eyes very much focused on his backside. "Very nice," she all but purrs, soon whisked away by a rider from Telgar giggling the entire way, "Oh my!"

All Alexryin can do is offer the bronzerider a strong grip when given that shake of a hand and a smile of apology before he's off again, weaving through the crowds. Now he knows why his Hold hasn't hosted a Gather in turns. He approaches T'lon and his brother, "Sorry to interrupt, gentleman, but I hope things have been going well this evening? Please, help yourself to the feast. I'm afraid there's no pickles there but fresh pies have been pulled out of the oven."

There's a nod after another sip from the flask "Uncles actually, Twin Oaks Whiskey is what is. They've been making it for Turns. They're vintners as well and twins to boot." Catwin notes "Hence the name. But you're right it's not simple. Lot of work and time goes into it. But they turn out some good stuff. A little shine on the side too, not that they ever sell it. But I get some every now and then being family and all." She gives a nod to Alexryin and then she's back to being quiet and drinking her whiskey.

Shanatea shakes his head, "Nah, I was probaly rude. I keep doing that on accident…" he scratches his head and looks sheepish. "Sure, that craft stuff keeps me jumping through looks, but doesn't mean I don't miss you and mum and da." he mumbles under his breath a little. Then he nods, "Well, can't pass on a gather this close to home and the like, you know…"

T'lon pauses mid bite of the pickle as Alexryin comes up, then there's a cheeky grin as he quickly finishes it up "Oh, that's quite all right, I think I've had my fill of pickles." He licks his lips "Though I must say they were good. Food does smell quite grand though." He looks up at Tea, and what a pain that is. Literally having to look up at your twin. Rude. "Of course you miss me! I'm your better half." Halo.

Likely finding the contents of the mug much more to his liking than all that fruity stuff, J'en is back to merely observing the gathering from where he stands off in the back as far from actual people as possible, still leaning on one of the posts which help suspend the lights overhead. The gold of his gaze doesn't linger anywhere in partiular for too long though, seemingly content to be on his own and undisturbed. Upon finally spotting Catwin, he lifts his mug up in greeting, but he hasn't nearly had enough to drink to warrent conversation with the woman as was part of the agreement. So, back he goes, taking a healthy mouthful.
of ale.

Riohra gets a drink for him and Kassala, the pair wander over as he hears Catwin talk about the Twin Oaks Whiskey. Standing near Catwin says "And if you get one with a good age like I did, it is worth all the marks she will cost you at getting it" He salutes the vintner and nods in greetings to those sitting near her. Kassala is sipping something that seems to have a nice sparkle to it.

Shanatea offers a grin to Alexryin and nods. "Its been fantastic, lovely Gather. Looking forward to the food." Then again, what teenaged boy doesn't ook forward to food, especally as grand at it smells?! "No pickles is perfect to me, they're not top of my menu. Ever." Innocent grin, insert here. He snorts and shakes his head, "Myby a little less than half, and not so sure you're the better not-quite-half either." Bwahahaha! Evil twin.

R'hyn 'ah's colorfully for Serena's explanation that the fashion shows were more Samiryth's forte, chin dipping in a nod. "Fair enough. You both did well with running the last one is all. I still have my crown," he adds with a grin, because of course he does and then— baby news! The bronzerider makes a chokey-celebratory noise around the mouthful of booze he just sipped, coughing it down before offering a spirited, "Congratulations! Shells, that's definitely a solid reason to transfer. Are you excited?" Because he's probably excited enough for them both. Fond of babies, is our R'hyn, or maybe he's just the excitable type, for he seems only slightly less enthusiastic to discuss alcohol, and that only because it's not, well, a baby. "That's impressive. Twin vintners. I bet the craft had a ball with them," he laughs, head shaking. "Still. Fascinating. I'll have to look into them further." And then she talks about shine and watch R'hyn sidle up all like 'hey buddy,' entirely joking but unable to contain the cheek. "Shine, you say? Do go on." Best buddy. Pal. Friend of his! Riohra and his company are nodded to when they arrive, mention of marks met with a chuckle. "Good alcohol is always worth it. Learned that the very, very hard way though, alas." Twinkle. R'hyn also blushes furiously when passing words finally catch up to him and nope more alcohol. Not even gonna COMMENT on assets. You can't make him lalalalala.

One of the hold's bakers is carrying a tray heavily laden with freshly baked pies wanders through, accidently bumping into Kassala hard enough to send her into Riohra, muttering a very adbrupt sorry, before heading off to deliver his burden to the serving table.

Kassala falls into Riohra, looking back and seeing it was an accident nods at the Baker, then leans in to check to make sure Rio is alright patting his chest "that didn't hurt the bandages did it? I know you are still healing."

Serena has mixed feelings about the whole affair honestly, but she tries not to let any of it show in her face, "I mean it was unexpected and so I'm still trying to wrap my mind around what it all means." Which is probably a concise enough explaination of the ongoing saga, "I guess I'm excited a little bit." she does her best to smile, "Thanks you though." She chuckles at the thought of him wearing the crown, yes she remembers that well, "I don't think I could subject you to that again, but maybe the next candidate class will be."

Cita isn't even going to tuch that. Diplomatic incident: not in her scope. Plus, maybe the good Lady Holder will find a nice puppy that isn't also to a Half Moon rider. Or something. The healer does her best to sidle through the crowd and avoid dancers and the occasional rowdy gather-goer, pausing occasionally to chat or grab something else to eat. She's on her second basket, by now, this time filled with some sort of confection — delicious, goopy confection. Which somehow isn't all over her dress as the healer stops, pauses. Bat-signal? Bandages? A quick turn, and Citayzleat descends on Kassala and Riohra; keeping a polite enough distance, but obviously delighted. Much better than the dancing. "You alright?" She ventures, smiling lopsidedly.

Wait, babies? Shows how much Catwin is paying attention to anything else, but that spirited congratulations gets her attention "Umm. Congrats?" She offers after a moment to Serena and then there's Rio and Kassala and coughs a little "Well, umm yeah." she murmurs a little "I don't fleece anyone or anything." she looks a little embarrassed and all, but then she's nodding to R'hyn "Yeah. Good stuff. I've seen it have people on the ground and have them thinking they are still standing." she says with a grin. A glance at Kass "Are you enjoying the drinks?" she asks and then as they couple is bumped "Are you all right?"

The dude with the tray of pies is eyed, forking two fingers at his golden pair and then pointing at him. You. Cut that out. Not that a nineteen turn old is all that intimidating but maybe his 6'2" height makes up for it. Considering the alarmed reaction this action receives, it seems it does. Scurring off, the Half Moon bronzerider snorts, getting back to the drinking thing. No concern is extended to Kassala and Riohra, apparently much more interested in making sure the rest of the gather was going the way it should, considering they appeared to be just fine without it.

T'lon snorts and pokes at Tea's ribs. "Oh, I know I'm the better half." he gives his hair a toss and runs a hand through it. "After all, I'm better looking than you." Oh yeah, aside from height, they look pretty much the same. He smirks a little "I dunno though Tea, you just might find that you like the pickles. You just haven't given them the chance." he remarks. There's a sound of chrashing coming from out near Saumath. Seems dancing dragon startled some poor harper apprentice who dropped some cymbols. T'lon looks back and winces "Oops."

D'lei eventually manages to make his way back to the vicinity of Serena. He's at least managed to get some pickles! And a plate of other bits and pieces besides, the better to keep up nourishment levels and… all those good things. He gives a nod to those she's talking with, an amiable smile on his face as he offers the plate to her.

The dropping of cymbals startles a young lady carrying far too many drinks back to her companions, nearly colliding with T'lon, "Oh no!" She spills some of refreshments, mostly on her own sandaled feet. "I am so sorry!" she says, pursing full pink lips before the call from her companions has her scurrying away. "Sorry again!"

Riohra holds Kassala alittle closer as long as the danger seems to pass, he nods at her about him but checks her dress and then whispers something to the red haired lass. He smiles and says "will you excuse us for a moment" the pair turn and head out of the tent towards the main hold as Kassala holds her dress together on the side.

Shanatea snorts at his twin and shakes his head. "At least I have the better personality." Well, give or take. He then wrinkles his nose, "Maybe the pickles are what makes you smellier than I am, bro." He states, then glances towards the poor cymbal dropping Harper. "Oops is right." he comments, peering at the pook kid. Ah well. Nobody is squished, its fine. He peers at the lady a moment, watching her as she rushes off, "You ok, T?"

R'hyn seems sympathetic, at least, lips twitching off to one side in a gesture that's meant to be understanding. "Ah, yeah, understandable, that. Don't be afraid to give a holler if you need anything though, yeah? Weird fruits from the southern continent, fizzy drinks from Ista…" He trails off with a grin and a gentle bumb of one shoulder against hers. "And shells. If you inflict that business on the next group of candidates, I'll crown the winner myself," he drawls with a wink. GASP. GIVE UP HIS CROWN?! Maybe. Just maybe! There's a worried look as Riohra and Kassala are jostled, nodding for the couples' quick exit, though their passing reveals— "Cita!" A beat, and a slight frown as he finally gets a good look at what she's wearing. "Are you in a dress?" Foreheadslap. "Anyways, excuse me a moment. I have to go try this whiskey now," he chirps with a nod and reassuringly-meant shoulder-pat for Catwin. "If only because alas, even if you did have some of that shine on you, I'd be worried to risk it. I can drink most folk under the table, but that just sounds like an experience." And with a snicker he's off to find him some booze! Don't worry. He'll be back eventually.

While drinking ale was more his style than bubbly concoctions filled with sweetened fruit, if J'en expected to end this gather without having to be thrown over a shoulder, he had best eat something to soak up that alcohol. He had finished his first mug and was nearly through a second when he stops someone with fresh baked bread happens by. Snagging an entire loaf, the bronzerider sinks his teeth into the crackily crust, tearing off a sizable chunk that all eventually makes it into his mouth. Weight is shifted from one foot to the other, gaze settling on Litral as he attempts to sell his wares. Something is muttered under his breath, soon muffled by another large bite of perfectly baked goodness.

Too bad it wasn't just on sandaled feet. T'lon gets himself a bit of a free shower, even if it is alcohol abuse. He looks at himself but then he looks at the young lady and can't help but smile for her "Oh, it's quite all right. It'll wash." Oh, she's cute, but alas running off. "Well, that was a happy accident, don't you think? ANd maybe I smell better now?"

Moving along the cluttered gatherway is one fresh arrival, Violet with the dark hair and demure styling. Her bright blue dress has classic lines and a skirt that falls modestly past her knees, though the neckline falls squared off and sleeveless. She has a drink in one hand, sangria by the look of it, and she walks around with dark eyes bright, taking in the sights there is to see. The Healer seems pleased as punch just to observe the festivities, meandering with a tidy step.

A rider hailing all the way from High Reaches is asking all the ladies to dance, but there is something in his eye that says this would likely might be a bad idea, or perhaps its the way his words were slurred and that bit of drool at one corner of is mouth. A single gesture is all it takes to get the guards moving and the gentleman is escorted out discreetly.

Alexryin winces and holds up a hand to say something but slowly shuts it and lowers his arm. There's people milling about with towels, making a bee-line towards T'lon. He continues to check on people, making sure his mother didn't lure someone into the darkness.

Catwin just blinks, and blinks again at R'hyn as she listens to him chatter on with his friends and then flit on off after booze. She smiles and just gives a shake of her head as she takes another swig of her drink. Must stay well lubricated to make it through the day. Reachian rider is eyed and Catwin steps back into the shadows of well somewhere, she's just gonna stay tucked away.

The music comes to a halt, and a man in a gitar pushes a stool to the center of the stage, he mouths something to the other musicians and soon a new song begins to play. Slow, soothing, romantic. The center of the grounds opens up as pairs begin to take hand in hand, moving onto the dance floor.

Cita blinks as Riohra and Kassala scamper off — wincing sympathetically, the healer turns back to the party, a little sheepish. Well, she tried to escape the actual party part of it. Peaches, though? Well, that might be enough to drag her back on the drinking-train. "Can you put them in a drink?" She ventures, eyeing Litral curiously. "My drink's gone dry." Woe! Lament. Waggle of the definitely-empty glass. She needs to be much drunker, here. "Shut it. It's a nice dress." The healer tosses back over her shoulder in Ryn's general direction, flouncing her flippy skirt a little. Tch. She's rocking it, and oh, look. Romatic music. "Make the drink a double." Because she really doesn't want to remember this part too much. It takes not a lot of effort to find one of her original targets: Serena and D'lei, but mainly the former. Though she doesn't move from her perch at the bar, she does wiggle a wave to the riders, smiling jauntily. "How are you feeling?" Cita calls, brightly. "Enjoying the dancing?"

"I'm okay, I'm okay." T'lon near about squeaks as he's descended upon with towels of all things. He tries to look past the peple with the towels to the girl that got away. Dang it all. He gives in and allows himself to be dried off. "What is it with these people?" He mutters. "She was cute, and now she's gone."

Riohra comes walking back into the gather, looking a little sad. he walks over and buys another drink from the bartender, finding Catwin too as vanished he finds a spot out of the way to stand and people watch. He sees T'lon get attacked by a flurry of towels, and just shakes his head and grins at the bronzerider with the worst luck.

Shanatea smirks and shakes his head at his twin. "Now, now. There, there. I'm sure you'll survive not flirting for five minutes." he rolls his eys and flaps his hands at the towel-bearers. "Shoo, shoo. He's dry." Flappity flippers….

"Thanks R'hyn. I might take you up on that sometime." Serena says with a wide smile at his words and actions. Help is good! And she will certainly need it. Lots of it! She hears another voice and turns to see Cita sitting over there by the bar, "I'm doing ok so far." Which is the polite way of saying that she is barfing her guts out periodically, but nothing that isn't part for the course, "I'm not really dancing." she says as she chances a glance to D'lei. No. Probably wouldn't be the best idea to ask him to dance.

"Impressive." The word precedes R'hyn's emergence back out of the heart of the crowd, not to earlier companions, but instead nearer a figure to the side of the crowd, one he doesn't so much approach directly as he does sidle up next to, the I'm-not-going-to-look-at-it maneuver one takes with a feral feline than a broody bronzerider. R'hyn leans against whatever's handy - table, wall, post, anything, posture casual as he adds, "And what does it take to get yourself assigned to…" An expansive gesture of a hand wrapped around a short glass, encompassing the whole of the party. Eventually, blue-grey eyes tilt in J'en's direction, clearly not expecting an answer, even as he extends his other hand - also bearing the telltale dark golden gleam of whiskey - to the watchful rider. "Comes highly recommended." In case he was tempted to decline the offer of booze. R'hyn sips from the glass that is apparently his regardless, eyes once again focused out on the people and surroundings before he adds, "And don't think I didn't notice." Is he smiling? He's trying not to, but he's BETRAYED by tiny twitches at the corner of his mouth. Worst.

Catwin slips out of hiding and heads over to the bar to get a bit of something else to drink while also checking up on Litral. She spots Rio Kassless and blinks "Is she going to be okay?" she asks as she order herself up a Sweaty Rider.

Alexryin tilts his head, peering at D'lei with a look of suspicion. "What is this I hear?" he begins, stepping closer with hands held out pleadingly. "You've come all the way here to our remote and entertaining Hold, under a clear night with stars only standing second to her eyes, with beautiful lanterns setting her aglow, beautiful music surrounding you both… and there's no slow dance?" Come on, now. He's staring at the bronzerider expectantly. Gathers don't happen everyday, you know.

At the romantic music, Violet's nose visibly crinkles; not her speed, evidently. She drifts towards that bartender talking about peaches, eyebrows lifted a little in naturally inquisitive inquiry; what's going on over here? She's close enough in her current position to overhear Alexryin's chiding of D'lei and stifles a laugh, peeking over at the trio through the thick veil of her 'lashes, a sly little side look to see exactly what's going on over there. Her eyes catch upon Serena and her smile broadens. Romantic music might not be her styling but she can enjoy a good romcom with the best of them~

T'lon laughs and shakes his head Tea "Thanks, though I can handle myself you know." But being rubbed down with towels while fully clothed, yeah he'd rather not have to handle that. But still, all is well and good. "Come one, lets get some. I'm still starved." he says as he makes his way for the food tables, ready to descend upon them and do his best to make much of it disappear.

"Does seem like a nice gather, though," D'lei says. He makes no offer to dance, though. Does he even see the glance? Probably, given that he meets Serena's eye for a moment before looking to Cita instead. "Good combination of old faces and new." Speaking of! He extends a hand toward her. "I'm D'lei. Garouth's rider, from Monaco." All the way from there! And it's to… not dance, as Alexyrin brings up. D'lei turns his head to look that way, with an arch of his eyebrows and then… a heh. "I wouldn't want to just dance and leave. That's just unkind, getting someone's hopes up when you know it can't last…" He trails off, giving his head a little shake.

Riohra smiles at Catwin and nods "Yeah Kassala will be fine, that bump ripped her new dress. Like she just got it new today, so she is working with a weaver to try to fix it" he tilts his head at the set up saying "You doing rather well for your self and craft to night" He takes another sip of his drink looking about and starts to smile more.

Halfway through his bready loaf the romantic music begins to play and people begin pairing off as they head to the dance floor. This is the point the antisocial bronzerider in the back opts for that third ale, likely of the same mind as Citayzleat. J'en might of been responsible for the gesture that had gotten DroolyMcNopePants dragged off, but now he was back to keenly eying the rest of those still gathered about. The towel shower of T'lon is noted, attention moving on to Shanatea where he pointedly lingers perhaps longer than anywhere else, before finally wandering to D'lei and this is quickly followed to Serena. As none of them are up to anything dodgy or overly disruptive and so his consideration merely continue on. Of course, then R'hyn arrives to become a singular point of annoyance, tension seeping all too easily into the broadness of his shoulders. "Ya make friends with a 'older who's good at talkin' people into thin's." he replies, dryly and slightly growled. He'd had enough to drink to allow for at least this much conversation with the other Half Moon bronzerider it seems. Golden eyes lift the short distance there was now between himself and those blue-grays, but doesn't linger long, as the thickness of his lashes are lowered and his gaze finds something else to interest it. A snort, "Pass." Nope, no honeyed dark whiskey for him, at least nursing the contents of that third mug of ale. As for what was noticed? "Ya were meant to." is grumbled around the lip of his cup, no returning restrained smirk, soon tipping back his drink.

And all of a sudden there is the host of this shindig there in front of Serena suggesting dancing, right on the heels of Cita's suggestion. "Uhhhhhh." is about the most eloquent thing she can manage to spit out. She looks over to D'lei who either happily or unhappily depending on how you look at it answers more clearly. She looks from D'lei to Alex and back to D'lei again, "If there was someone you wanted to dance with I'm sure it would be ok." she encourages him.

"But aren't you a dragonrider?" Violet asks D'lei guilelessly, butting in despite herself. Her smile is friendly, and probably quite a bit more sober than 99 of the rest of the gather denizens. Her smile sweeps over toward Serena again, and she prompts a little more baldly, "Seems like this beautiful young lady deserves a spin around the dancefloor." The mindhealer winks at Alexyrin, curving her hand more stoutly around her half-empty sangria glass.

"If you say so, just remember. Sometimes it's what you do with those last moments that make the memories. Don't regret it later. I would offer myself, m'lady, but then my mother would marry us off and I don't think I'm as handsome as your friend here. No matter what, please enjoy yourselves." Alexryin nods his head in farewell, offering a wink to Violet, and back into the crowds he goes.

A pair of holder girls dressed beautifully but perhaps too often visiting the table of drinks, giggle madly as they swing each other around the dance floor in a circle. Soon, too dizzy to stand upright, they drop to their behinds and knees respectively. A single blink, and they're laughing again in unison. Their mothers hastily gather them up, shuffling them off to the side and out of sight.

Catwin ahs a little "That is sad, it was a rather nice dress too." She looks over at her current bartender "Oh, he's doing quite well all on his own. I'm just here in a supervisor category." She murmurs. Nope, not going into setup or anything. She takes a sip of her creamy drink "I will say, he is very good at what he does. Always the right proportions to his drinks. I swear."

"Cita, healer for Half Moon." The journeyman greets, amid the hubbub, politeness taking precedent still. She's not had nearly enough to drink. "Try some fizzy water with ginger, Serena. Before or after the dancing." Yeah, she's in agreement with the consensus here, whether or not she's about to sally forth and dance herself. Advice dispensed, Cita turns back to the bar with a grin, grabbing her vodka-and-peaches filled tall glass with a nod of thanks to the barman. She's got some drinking to catch up on.

R'hyn actually manages to look surprised when more than three words at a time are sent in his direction, and none of them swear words. Brows tilt towards his hairline, but otherwise he doesn't push his luck by pointing that out, instead chuckling quietly and glancing back out at the crowd. "Pesky thing, that - making friends. They always manage to get you to do things you ordinarily wouldn't." There's no lesson in those words - they are what they are, simply put, the silence that ensues broken only by a shrug for the decline of drink. More for him, or perhaps more likely, more for someone else, for the bronzer, too, watches the shift and ebb of the crowd, head tilting somewhat expectantly towards Alexryin for his suspicious, inspirational speech and the subsequently decline from various parties. "Amateurs," he drawls around the rim of his glass, and he looks like he might go, motion-laden posture only arrested by further words from J'en. There's a slanted look from the bronzerider then, ultimately unreadable but tinged with a certain edge of positivity, and then the rest of his whiskey gets knocked back with a hiss for the unwise haste. Down goes his second glass, parked close with the implication he'll be back, even as he finally pushes up into a proper standing pose again. "Of course I was." Oh, smugness, thy name is R'hyn, but he's off before anyone can dwell too hard, one hopes, aiming for the crowd he'd recently left behind. "Ladies," he says towards Serena and Citayzleat, hooking one arm through Cita's without asking permission, though Serena at least gets the benefit of an offered elbow. "I'm nothin' to get your hopes up for either, but that ain't gonna stop me," he jests, chin tilting towards the dance floor. "Awkward trio shuffle, like we used to back in harper lessons?" Leave room for Faranth, you know the drill.

"D'lei," he replies to Cita. But… yeah, distractions make the conversation take a detour from there! Like Violet's interjection, to which he nods with a half-smile. "I am." He glances to Serena, then… back again to Violet. "Heh. I'll agree with you on that…" he says. "A spin around the dancefloor, some shared sorbet to follow it… maybe a walk amid the glowing lanterns to follow it." He looks to Alexyrin there, with a half-smile. "I've heard it's what inside that matters?" Then, he turns his gaze to Serena again, with that partial smile lingering. "… so, if you want to dance just as a friend, let me know… though I think this is rather the wrong song for that."

Shanatea notes the lingering look given him by J'en and the sly dolphincrafter offers a smile and a wink, because he can. He nods, "No, I know, but still. I like to /help/." he grins innocently at his twin. Help, that must be code for trouble.He nods, and follows his twin towards the FOOD. "Also starving, me."

Violet is in the middle of shooting D'lei an encouraging smile when R'hyn sweeps through the little knot of people; the Healer obligingly shifts out of the way, glancing back only once at the happy gathering before moving along.

T'lon has lost his brother it seems somewhere in the crowd, oh no there he is. Being ogled by a rider. He notes the wink and then grins "Sure you don't want any pickles? Hmm? There is laughter as food is gathered onto his plate he's looking around. Perhaps for that one girl again, or maybe for his brother's admirer. Same diff, right? Dances are watched and there's a brief musing at his feet. He even jiggles a foot momentarily. Nah. Food first. And just food. alcohol is completely avoided. Or maybe it's he just hasn't thought about grabbing any. However, "Or maybe you might take him out for a dance or two." Oh yeah, that little look is going to provide fodder for Turns.

Riohra sips from his whiskey and nods "where did you find him? or did he come with the tent" he teases looking out at the dance floor watching the people. He grins as he watches R'hyn sweep up two girls and move about the dance floor saying "well that one is trouble"

Serena starts by giving a nod to Cita and her suggestion of the fizzy ginger water, "I will." she say to the healer. She has to take her healers advice after all! It's written down in the rules somewhere right? Violet will get a slight smile, but Serena says nothing. When D'lei responds and makes it clear that he isn't trying to get out of spending time with her she smiles, she wasn't really worried to begin with, "It might be the wrong song D'lei." she agrees. Though she doesn't say no to the rest of his offer. R'hyns arrival is met with a reluctant smile. She looks at the offered elbow and will a few moments later take him up on his offer. It's just for fun right and thats the point as Alex said.

D'lei nods to Serena with a smile… though he grins approval when she takes R'hyn's arm, nodding for it. "Have fun, you two." That is, in fact, what it's all about… right? Right! Apparently it's only the wrong song when he's involved. For the two of them? It can be a great experience. …and he can get some food, perhaps. Or a drink?

Does J'en seem to care that R'hyn looks surprised? No, no he does not. The younger of the two bronzeriders gives the dashingly handsome woman magnet no further thought, having fallen in a sullen silence that he would recognize all too well. "Whatever, move it along muscle mountain," he gruffly dismisses, shifting himself away from the other man and returning to drinking and people watching. Lashes remain lowered when Shanatea smiles and winks at him, appraisingly sweeping his golden hued gaze over him head to toe, before the sixteen-turn-old seems to lose any significance he may have temporarily gained.

Of course she has to listen to a healer! Them's the rules. It looks almost like Cita would rather bean Ryn with her glass than actually be dragged onto the dancefloor. The still-relatively-full thing gets shoved in the rider's face and waggled imperiously. "Does it look like I'm drunk enough to dance with you?" She asks, but it's a moot point, because the healer's not moving her arm with any great speed. Instead, she's taking a massive drink of the vodka-peaches, watching her healery compatriot slip off with a wistful smile — the lucky wherry, getting away with the not-dancing. While Serena's answer formulates, Cita drinks steadily, knocking back the vodka with alarming swiftness. "We dance." She announces at the end of it; in the same voice one might announce the start of a much-beloved public figure's funerary march. "Watch my drink?" Litral probably has better things to do, but she's not leaving those boozy peaches for too long.

Litral the bartender calls out to Ila'den and says a bit sassily "Would the gentleman like to order a cocktail?".

Catwin laughs "He's one of our apprentices, quite promising and all. He's due to walk the tables soon." She ignore his cheekiness. She look over towards R'hyn "Perhaps, he had a good ale though. maybe it's a good thing I didn't have a little shine on hand." she notes as she watche the rider.

Trouble? Hardly. R'hyn is the opposite of trouble, for though he might start walking, it's slow, careful, head tilted down towards Serena to dispense concerned words for her reluctance. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it weird. Do you want to go back? I really won't be offended," he assures, lips twitching into a crooked grin. "I just hate all the cutesy couples out here having fun and making big eyes at each other. Such nonsense. We need to inject the place with some awkwardness. Make them realize just how cliche they are." Yes. Definitely - his actions are all in good fun, even as he flicks a wink over at Cita. "You'll never be drunk enough to dance with me, woman. Might as well suck it up and deal and make with the hand-holding," he adds as they reach the dance floor. "Cita, Serena. Serena, Cita, though you might remember each other from that age ago. Cita was the one with the…" Well, he can't rightly make the gesture he wants to with his hands full, so he says, "Well, she was very colorful," instead. Rude man.

A lovely couple from Xanadu take the floor, man and woman both attractive and dressed in the sort of way that draws attention without needing to be gaudy. Together they spin and twirl, showing off dance moves that are most certanly practiced, drawing more people from off the sides. As more gatherers are on the floor than off, they slip away, disappearing along a path hand in hand that leads to more private surroundings.

A very muscular greenrider sashays past Litral, taking a very big and juicy pickle, a glass of champagne, and he struts down the way. He takes a sip of his champagne while swaying that pickle as though he's conducting a little tune… til he spots him. "How 'bout I make you colorful?" Wait wut. Pickle sass to R'hyn.

With food finished T'lon gives his brother a playful shove towards the rider and then he slips out amongst the crowd. Seems he found a lone girl that he wants to get to know just a little bit better and sweeps her off onto the dance floor. Watch and learn, don't ask, sweep them off their seats.

Serena isn't reluctant so much as just not used to dancing, "You didn't make it weird R'hyn. I think it's fine." she says to him with a smile, "I don't need to go back." She's perfectly content to engage in awkward dancing, since that is about all she's capable of really. Though she doesn't forget about D'lei. She'll periodically look over to him to keep tabs on where he gets too. She doesn't want to lose track of him. "I know Cita." she says with a smile, "She's going to be my healer and help me give birth." Cause thats the ultimate goal!

Shanatea smirks, "I doubt he has any interest in me, anyways. You said food?" the lad says as he follows T towards a table laden with tasty Gather vittles. He sweeps a mountain full of food onto his plate, so happy there's no pickles here. He packes it all in quite quickly too. Then he motions toward the rider. "Psh, he's ADORABLE, but I'm not a worthy catch. And thats ok, because my food loves me." And with that shove, he pouts at his now missing brother, standing there alone in the midst of the crowd, looking like a goof.

Catwin snags a peach herself from the basket and takes a bite of it's firm juiceness and heads away from the bar after getting a refil in her flask of whiskey. Couples on the dance floor are watched. Not with any air of wistfulness, but more that of thinking the lot of them are crazy. Nope, she's heading off to the wall. Good spot to relax.

Polishing off the remains of the bread he'd absconded with at last, J'en brushes the front of his jacket off with an idle sweep of his hand. Ever present there, by the main entry to the gather, leaned against one of the posts from which the lights above are strung. Now that there was something in his stomach other than ale, he continues to sip from his third and final cup, looking as if he aims to be less drunk and more attentive to the duty which Alexryin had assigned him. Wherever the holder heir had wandered off to, he probably doesn't know, standing up and straightening out his riding leathers as best he can with only one empty hand. This allowing him perhaps a little bit more credibility in his role, though he keeps a very tight grip on his party date, that being his mug.

T'lon might just decide that picking up random girls really might not be such a good idea. Young man comes back looking a little shell shocked after his spin around the dancefloor. He's silent as he slides right back in next to his brother. Yup, he was there all along. Really. He's just so short you missed him bro. Cough.

Shanatea looks mildly down at his brother and grins, "Well, that worked out well for you didn't it?" Yeah, thats a challenge. "C'mon, even /I/ can do better'n that." he mumbles, sneaking another grin in J'en's direction. Intrigue! Mystery… well, sort of not really but its cool. He thinks about it for a moment, and stops leaning on whatever he had been leaning on, shifting his feet a little.

ILA'DEN AIN'T WANT NO STINKIN' COCKTAIL. HE IS A STRONG, INDEPENDENT BRONZERID - "Yes. Yes I would," the former renegade informs the sassy bartender, around a smile that's part wolfish, part charm, and 100% Ila'den. He's weaving his way through the crowd and the people to get to where there is the promise of getting drunk and forgetting what his face even is, and then he's waylaid as grey eyes sweep the crowd and see familiar face, unfamiliar face, familiar face, and - ah. THERE HE IS. J'en, the man of the hour, whom Ila'den is descending upon like predator on prey, hands tucking into hidden pockets on his jacket as a slight limp in his gait carries him to his fellow Half Moonian and there he stops, all smiles, ALL MYSTERIOUS EYEPATCH SMILES, waiting until it's almost awkward before he breathes out, "You should be dancing." Okay, so it's always awkward. This is Ila'den. And that lone eye goes to Jae's date, his drink, before he makes a soft noise in his throat that sounds like approval, or disappointment, or an odd combination of the two. That is when he jerks his head in Catwin's direction, as if he even knows who she is. "She looks lonely. Take it from your uncle: go ask her to dance." WOLFISH SMILES. Is he being a jerk? Who knows, but he's winking at Catwin to GET HER ATTENTION, pointing at J'en with a brow that says, 'YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO,' and leaning sideways to whisper, "If she says no, you can dance with me." Dance, brawl. Potayto, potahto. THIS IS FAIR, RIGHT? Right.

Say what?!! Catwin stares at Ila'den. Simply stares at him. Oh no he didn't. Sadly, yes he did. Catwin's glance darts over to J'en. Uh huh. Yeah. Sure. No sip is taken of her flask of whiskey. No, this is a straight one down several swallows worth. Flask is then pointed at Ila'den "So not lonely, old man." She pushes off from the wall. She's going to need a little more fortification with this yayhoo on the loose. Back off to the bar. "Litral, get me my other flask would you. The one with tornado on it." Shine is coming out!

T'lon stares at Shanatea and snorts "She had these weirds moles or something all over her hands. Creepy! Or maybe they were pustules. I dunno. They felt extremely weird." A look towards J'en "You think you can do better. Go for it." Ila'den is looked at with something again to horror? Or just plain skeeriness. "Just watch out for the other one. He just might eat you up." Creepy smile.

R'hyn seems satisfied with that answer, crooked grin brightening to an actual smile and a nod. "Good." Because it's about to get five times more awkward as couples begin to depart from the dancefloor and dammit, Ryn, but this is why we can't have nice things. "Be careful, I hear there's itchleaf over there!," he hoots after one couple, and another receives a cheerfully hailed, "Watch out for the puddle of puke!" Horrible. Just horrible. He cuts it out after that, at least, perhaps distracted by Serena's words. "Is she? Well, good. It'll be nice to have a friendly face with you throughout it all. Her bedside manner's a bit…" Here he makes a squeaky little 'ehh' noise, pointedly not looking to Cita for her reaction because it's probably not-nice. "But you can't beat anyone for know-how." Proud of his little Healer friend? Definitely. Blue-grey eyes track around their surroundings, catching on a familiar be-eyepatched figure over yonder and immediately glancing skywards as though asking the stars for strength, but instead of commenting on the J'en-Ila'den snafu-in-the-making, he instead focuses on the pair of Xanadian dancers easily cutting circles around them. "Shells. Do you know how to dance proper?," he asks of Serena. "I never did learn how to do it well. Kind of regret it sometimes, you know?"

J'en is snuck a grin? This earns Shanatea the slightest raise of a brow as well as all of the bronzerider's attention, until of course there is suddenly Ila'den. Isn't that always how it ends up? So distracted by the pretty dolphineer apprentice, Jae he'd missed entirely the one-eyed former renegade arriving, or perhaps he'd been there the whole time and his brain simply refused to accept this as fact. Either way, the nineteen-turn-old was more then aware now, welcoming all the tension in the world to his whole person. Hello, old friend. Oh so very slowly golden eyes are lifted to meet the individual silvered one and an eyepath (because he wears one guys and it'd be hard to focus two on one, okay?) It comes down to a staring match, one decidedly much less smiley and more frowny than the other, with neither of them saying anything. Jae's expression, completely unreadable save for the slightest downturn of his lips, perhaps only vaugely aware that limpy swagger of the old man had ushered many a gaze his particular direction. Up to this point, he'd more or less blended into the background, which is exactly how he liked it. When Ila'den speaks, all jovil and the like, the younger finally snorts. "Ya should be movin' along," he replies in a rumbling tone that is neither growly nor grumbly. With that, it's over, you all can let out the breaths you were holding. J'en uses his gather date to point to R'hyn, as he finally reliquishes his hold of the MUCH older bronzerider's gaze, "Yer…weyrmate…is that way." There was just something in the way he says weyrmate that may suggest he had a lot more to say, but this was not the time and certainly not the place. Catwin is given a very polite inclination of his head, but he makes no move to approach her. Looks like he was going to pass on dancing as well as drinking the hard stuff. Perhaps only Ila'den, considering how close he is, can see just how much the muscles along Jae's jaw were twitching as he clenches his teeth so hard they actually grind against one another. A titch along his brow for when the other man called himself his uncle but met with relative silence. However, then the offer comes Ila-side to take him as a dance partner, and now the younger was drawing in a breath very slowly, releasing it in the exact same way, as everything right now is being done with the utmost of care. He even closes his eyes, breathing out a gentle as possible, "Please. Go." It might have been said past gritted teeth, but he did say please?

Riohra has move about the area now, actively avoiding the dance floor but has found his way to the the food tables. He finds himself near a very familiar bronzerider "Hey T'lon, you still on for the poker game in two days?" he nods to Shanatea "And hello again" he starts to dish a plate watching the little hurricane that seems to be embodied by R'hyn to makes sure he can avoid it least the winds should change this way.

"Do my best. Consider it homework; a sub-specialty, maybe." Cita grins. Because that inspires confidence? And anyhow: "You're one to sharding talk, Lady Holder Crown." You know, just in case he forgot that she has blackmail material for TURNS. She may or may not be trying to lead their little triad of weirdness — with long steps and maybe a little awkwardness, but she's not stumbling yet. Wait for iiiiiiiit. "I'll have you know my bedside manner is sparkling. You'll see, Serena. I bet you don't skip out on your checkups, hmm?" The healer nods, and maybepossibly stomps on the bronzer's foot on purpose. Gently. She's noticed Ila, and smiles dazzlingly in the two bronzers' direction on a spin-round, but it's getting a little woozy. Liquor? Late hour? Unclear. "R'hyn likes to test my patience." Cita huffs, after a moment, squeezing his arm in some sort of appreciation for the compliment. "The harpers need to do a faster one. We could square-dance!" Right. That sounds like a spectacular idea.

Hearing that Cita is a good healer does instill Serena a certain confidence. Everyone wants to believe that the healers they see are competant and good at what they do, "I'm hoping." she responds to R'hyn's description of Cita. Though when it comes to dancing it should be obvious that Serena is no dancer, "I only ever learned a little bit and that was a very long time ago. I don't think that probably now is the best time to learn." She's heard there is lots of waddling involved in the later parts of pregnancy and that probably wouldn't translate well into dancing gracefully, "I don't know if I regret it really. Don't have tons of reasons to go to lots of dances." She shakes her head quickly to Cita, "I won't miss my appointments. D'lei and I want the baby to be healthy. We know what we need to do." Of course Serena wants to stay healthy as well!

Shanatea took about three steps toward J'en and then the Ila'den appears. Loud and flashy and possibly (probably) intimidating. But as the offer the rider made to J'en is shot down, he gathers himself and steps towards J'en again, then eyes Ila'den politely, yet trying to look tough, which is difficult when you're young /and/ short. "I believe his next dance is spoken for!" Yeah, Thats Tea, trying to be all gallant or something. "But of course it doesn't have to be?" Yeah, he turns a questioning and rather sheepish look towards the poor J'en then. He also flaps a hand towards Catwin in a HI, how are you? wave, but then glances briefly at his toes. Dawwwwww! He's playing shy….. or perhaps is shy. And awkward. And tiny. And cute? Poor little squish.

T'lon watches as Tea tries to score and then he's grinning at Rio. "I'm looking forward to it! I just hope I make a better show of it than last time." He looks a little sheepish. Do you know if Etzlix is going to be showing up to?" he asks with a hopeful look in his eyes. He looks back towards Tea and can't help but grin as he listens to him. "You know, I'll be so ashamed if he manages to go home with someone tonight and I don't. I'll never hear the end of it."

Alexryin is just sitting back in a nice seat away from the dance floor but stationed right where people enter and exit. You know, to greet people and bid them farewell and stuff. He looks into the little bowl of nuts he has in his lap and picks up one in particular. "I'll save this one for J'en. He could use it. Maybe this one, too."

Catwin has her flask of shine and is walking away from the bar and then she's hand flapped? She narrows her eyes at the apprentice and then just shakes her head a little and takes a swig. She blinks a little, a few tears showing in her eyes and then she lets out a sigh. "Oh yeah, that hits the spot." Ila'den, J'en, Tea, yeah. They're all but forgotten as she finds herself a nice little corner to settle down into. Screw the chairs.

Old man?! SHOTS FIRED! Ila'den's response to Catwin's glare, denial, and straight insults is low, rumbling, husky laughter that's entirely too much enjoyment and not at all offended enough. OH WELL. "It was worth a try." T'lon? He gets another roguish smile, but the bronzerider's too pressed for a response because suddenly J'en is speaking and telling him to GO, pointing out his WEYRMATE, sending that lone grey eye straight to that smile and - welp, it's game over. ILA, NO! But oh, Ila, yes. There's a shift in the older bronzerider, something primal, something feral, something carnally effervescent when Ila's attention is drawn to sweet, shy Tea with an intensity meant for somebody else. "He's all yours," comes that gruff, husky brogue, Ila'den inclining his head towards J'en as he sidesteps and navigates the crowd once more with the singular focus of a man seeking shelter from the storm. Serena, Cita, and R'hyn: RUN WHILE YOU CAN. Only it's too late, isn't it? Because Ila'den is catching Cita around the middle and pulling her away in a spin until she's pressed against him, one hand in the small of her back as the other holds tight to hers and he leans in to plant a kiss right on the top of her head - whether she WANTS HIS AFFECTION OR NOT. "You look beautiful little bird. And drunk." And then he's dancing, dancing, dancing her around before asking, "May I borrow R'hyn?" But it's for both Serena and Cita, not at all asking his weyrmate's permission because HE DOES WHAT HE WANTS.

Riohra nods and says "She should be, there. And you did fine last time, but I think we should not let try to buy drinks for people." He nods as he watches the Dolphineer try his hand at a dance saying "well then you best go off looking for some my friend. Because I am not going home with ya" he gives a light elbow to the ribs of T'lon. He watches to see now if J'en will actually except the dance or not.

"You've always been jealous of my crown," R'hyn replies with a sniff, though a playful gleam lingers in his gaze. "It's because it's pink, isn't it. It just speaks to you." There is perhaps some snorting for arguments for Citayzleat's bedside manner, but Heryn's made his point, and is content with the course of the conversation: Serena will be well-cared for, Citayzleat will make a kickass midwife-Healer and— "Ouch, hey! That was one time!," R'hyn laughs, feigning a slight stagger for that stomp the woman rains down on his poor foot. "Shells, with friends like you, who needs enemies," the man huffs, rolling his eyes over to Serena as though to say, 'can you even believe her?' He's laughing through it all, though, doesn't even deny being a pain in Cita's tush, instead nodding for Serena's logic. "True. There are perhaps better times. But I dunno. There's just something expressive about it. Maybe I've also just been drinking," he adds with a frown, one that deepens sarcastically for the sudden interjection of a heaping helping of Ila'den into their trifecta of dancing weirdness. R'hyn sighs loudly when first Cita is swept away (and he definitely doesn't have heart-pangs when the man kisses the top of her head, no), focusing his attention on the greenrider when Ila makes his way back. He squeezes her hand in his, bowing over it with playful formality, excusing himself, thank you, Ila with a pleasant, "Thank you for dancing with me, Serena." For Cita: "You do look lovely," and a flicked wink, and then he tilts his head to cock an eyebrow at Ila over a smile tugging at either corner of his lips. "Can I help you, bronzerider?" SASS.

T'lon gets a roguish smile? Oookay. Attention is back on Rio though and he just rolls his eyes. "Yeah, as if I'd go home with you." He grins cheekily "But yeah, she was doing good on her own with drinks." He sighs a little "She's pretty nice though. Saw her again later." There's a dreamy look to his eyes.

Don't mind Lady Halyria, she's just going to sit there and watch people dance so sweetly together. She catches R'hyn's gaze when the time is right, and she air dabs his chin with the handkerchief.

Oh Alex, sweet sweet Alex, saving particular nuts just for J'en. He might even have been apprechiative that he was being so thought of in such an endearing way, but alas, for there is an Ila. Thankfully for him, a very easily distractable Ila and in this the teenager might just be grateful for R'hyn showing up to this shindig in the first place, swallowing hard as the one-eyed bronzerider finally and blessfully departs for better lands and greener pastures. Exhaling a shaking breath, golden eyes reopen, descending upon the tiny frame of Shanatea who so bravely braved the shark infested waters of wolf-grinned and barely-restrained bronzeriders. How nice of his 'uncle' to hand him off like that! Just, needing a moment, he focuses quite literally becomes that poor dolphineer apprentice. Breath is exchanged a little heavily past his parted lips, the sort of anger that legends are made of and start hundred turn wars rippling over his features before he has a chance to tuck it back away and out of sight again. It's not directly at the boy, nor intended for him, but he has to bear the brunt of it as its intended target was busily spinning a beautiful healer upon the dancefloor. "I dun dance," he manages at last, getting a firm hold back on that which should never be seen and downs the very last of his mug's contents. Once empty, it's tossed over his shoulder and in so doing the banster behind, all rather haphazardly. That done, he draws up to his full height and stalks forward on heavily booted feet. "This I can do." Stongly muscled arms gather up Shanatee and soon the sixteen-turn-old is not only spun and then dipped, but he gets the deepest, longest, most ale saturated kiss of his entire life in apology. Gathers! Wheeeee! Even if Tea's legs can't hold him up after that, he's returned to them, thick-soled boots carrying him off to that he can sag against a spot behind Alexryin.

Cita laughs, still doing her level best to lead them on a dance that is…if not coordinated, at least not towards any puke or other people. "Maybe not. You'll be more coordinated for learning later." The healer presses her lips into what is definitely not a smile, but her eyes are bright. She points, too, extracting a hand and glaring at the bronzer of the trio. "See?" She points out, snotty and still Not Grinning, but it softens quickly enough. "We'll do our best, yeah?" The softness lasts for R'hyn for a second, even, because that eyeroll is definitely at least a little fond. "Why would I be jealous of your crown, when you wear it so well?" Cita ventures, arch. She might have taken a moment to wax eloquent about dancing, but she's spun away; she lost track of J'en and Ila for two seconds, and hey. There's one of them. "Ila!" The healer laughs, and doesn't even punch the rider a little, in a shocking turn of events. "I'm not near drunk enough." She tells Ila's chest, snorting an unladylike laugh and flapping a hand at both riders. "I should hope so. It's new." Flounce-flounce-flounce. Amused look for both of them. "Leave room for Faranth." She intones, then turns to Serena, smiling brightly. "Serena, I need a refill. I'll ask the barman to prepare a ginger fizz for you, if you'd like?" The journeyman will wait long enough for a response — but her drink is calling her name, happy and boozy.

Serena just blinks as the strange man sweeps the healer away from the group. That was strange. Very strange indeed. She'll look to R'hyn for a moment with a questioning expression, but she won't linger long with it because just like that the man is back asking to borrow R'hyn. Poor R'hyn he just is getting all kinds of attention tonight from all sorts of different people, "Sure thing." she says as she lets go of R'hyn's arm and scuttles away toward where Cita is going. Maybe she'll find D'lei there too. Run away! Run away! Back to D'lei and fizzy drinks with promised walks, and food. "Thanks." Serena will call back to R'hyn for the compliment.

Oh what a moment to have missed. Catwin might just have appreciated watching that most spectacular dip and kiss. Alas, Vintner is no longer in attendance. Mentally that is. Yup, Vintner has had enough excitement for the day and her cozy little corner became all that much more cozier with the shine. At least she doesn't snore. Nope. Not her. But sleep or no sleep, that shine is tucked away and hidden.

Shanatea does stumble just a bit, and offers a stunned, but quite cheerful smile in return before he slips back towards his brother's side. "I think its a night to remember. Time for me to go before trouble happens." He innocently grins at his twin. "By the way, I win tonight." He winks at his brother and sighs happily. Yes, he's a very happy lad. Wiggle.

Oh yeah, Tea won that one. Tea always wins. Grump. Well not really. T'lon is actually grinning wildly after that display "I'd toast you afer that, but alas nothing to toast with. That outta fuel some good dreams" He nudges his brother. "That kiss? Oh yes. You win."

Riohra grins and nods "Really? what did you get her for her Turnday?" He laughs as the happy dolphineer calls the win in the twins little betting game.

T'lon shakes his head a little "Nothing yet. I got something on order though." He grins as he looks off in the distance "Though I think I'm going to give it to her as just a special surprise." Oh yeah, like that has ever gone well for him, but he never learns.

Shanatea actually BLUSHES. He grins at his brother. "Uhm, yeah, that kiss rocked my socks off." he glances in the direction of the golden-eyed bronzerider, just grinning cheekily to himself, then attention is turned back to his brother. "Wow." Total Wowness. He also can't stop grinning.

Litral who is tending bar winks as he leans across the counter to watch Shanatea and licks his lips suggestively before saying "Would you like to buy a tasty pickle?"

Ila'den is all roguish smiles at Serena when she boggles in his general direction (he's used to the boggling, and the being thought weird, and the intense dislike of the masses), not missing a single step even as Cita mumbles into his chest, and spares his already unfortunate face, and even goes so far as to snort on him. "Never," he breathes to her, letting her go with one last spin and coming face-to-face with R'hyn's sass (also another thing he's used to) and an answering smile. "You've already helped me enough, weyrling," comes the admittance, low, hushed, a growl of sound meant for R'hyn alone, that softens into something more around that burr. "All that I want from you right now is your company - and a dance." And Ila'den isn't waiting for his weyrmate to acquiesce his request; the older bronzerider simply steps into R'hyn's space without permission (because they are way past the point of invasions, OBVS), one muscled arm coming around Ryn's waist so that calloused fingers can press firmly into the small of his back, the other taking hold of one hand as he leads them wordlessly through a one, two, step, one, two, step. And while most couples might press foreheads together and lower their eyes, Ila'den is all intensity; that single grey eye holds grey-blue with ever-present amusement and something so much more, something private, something grateful, and smitten, and proud until - NO, R'HYN. YOU WERE WRONG. THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS. "Sexy carry, right?" is all the warning the younger bronzerider gets, right before Ila'den is sliding hands down to catch at the back of TOO FAR DOWN KNEES, GDI, and using what strength he's regained to haul R'hyn right the hell off of his feet and settle him on his abdomen. "Faranth, who the fuck made you so tall?" SomethingsomethingPIANOSsomethingsomething. It's a growl of agitation, but then it simply doesn't matter, because Ila'den is kissing R'hyn and holding on tight as he bumps PEOPLE AND PICKLES AND THINGS on his way to get out of the crowd (amid much husky laughter because unsuspecting victims are fun to jostle and 'I'm sorry,' sounds far too insincere against pliant lips), pausing only long enough to yell, "We'll be back for you, Cita!" And there. He. Goes. Disappearing with his weyrmate. SHAMELESS, TRULY.

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