Candidate Fashion Show

Half Moon Bay Weyr - West Bowl
The western end of the great bowl of the Weyr. You can see the steep walls of the crater to the south and south, with small openings and ledges in the cliffside. These are the individual weyrs of dragons and their riders. To the west you can see the great natural arch, and the lagoon, to the east, the center of the bowl. To the south you see a large natural cave opening that has been made into a tunnel. It is the main entrance to the Weyr from the road to Half Moon Bay Hold.

It is a pleasant mid afternoon day in Half Moon Bay weyr. The sun is shining, the wind is gently blowing and the weather is cooperating. For the purpose of the event simple wooden stage has been constructed off to the side to allow those who aren't interested in watching pass through with little interuption. Sitting near the stage is a green dragon. This is a normal enough occurance at the weyr, but on this particular day the green dragon is weyring what looks to be a dress of some sort. The straps have been decorated with frilly pink fabric and other vivid colors cover the dragons back. It would more properly be termed a cloak, but for Samiryth its a pretty dress and that is how its going to be. The excentricity of the dragon notwithstanding her rider is standing near her and is dressed in her normal clothes. Playing along only goes so far. She looks at the sun and can see that the hour is approching, "Come one! Come all! To the first annual candidate fashion show." The rules of the event have been posted nearby. A sign simply says: 'Each of the candidates has the opportunity to create their own set of clothing. The winner will be chosen by Samiryth. The dragon has said she will judge on several different factors but has not shared what any of those factors are. She says she likes surprises.' Good times! Goooooood times!

Sundari had given the OK to have this little shindig, because why not? A chance to watch the candidates have a bit of amusingfun is always something to be enjoyed. With Irkevalath settled upon a perch looking down over the bowl, Sunny is making her way on out to catch the show it seems. Her right arm is still in a cast from elbow to wrist, she has on her normal clothing and once outside a brown firelizard flutters off from her shoulder for some reason or another and soon disappears back within the caverns she just left.

Heryn is here! And not… looking… the most excited about it really, but then, who can blame him. The lot of them are about to go out on a stage in front of weyrfolk they more or less respected in outfits that could be considered outlandish at best, but… Well, he's a good sport our Heryn, and so he's here. In a hooded robe, though his figure is recognizable no matter the distance. What? No sense giving the 'competition' any chance to eye him up, even if they might be down to the wire. The bartender shifts uncomfortably under the robe, as though trying not to let it cover him while still wanting it to cover him, and really… he's just a nervous mess. But again. Here. And shooting Serena a crooked grin for her showmaster's welcome to the event. This ought to be interesting!

Citayzleat will *play*. She is serious about days off, is Cita. They can be used for all sorts of useful things; even if she is awful and would use it to work, probably. Which is also probably why she's wearing something that *might* have once been an operating gown or three. The thin lilac material is little more than some sort of chiton, gathered in with an abundance of brightly-colored ribbons and scraps of fabric. With her hair done up in some sort of twisty, be-ribboned up-do, and a train of borrowed tulle, she looks just a little ridiculous. Evidently completely unaware of this, Cita minces into the throng of candidates, looking awfully at ease for somebody whose clothes might actually fly away. At least her stitches are neat and tidy? "Oh, wow," The healer's eyes go a little wide, spotting Samiryth; wearing her dress! A dragon in a dress. It's not something you see every day. "You look lovely!" Flattery will get you everywhere?

Somewhere, Rezia is in the crowd of spectators, just cheering her heart out for all of the candidates and their fashion flu- er fail- er victories? Let's go with that! She's bouncing and applauding and, really, that's probably all she'll be good for throughout.
And then there's the long, tall, and bland form of Noodle. He's certainly wearing… clothes. It's, uh. Spicy, to say the least. Kind of a cayenne and paprika deal, made with a buttery-soft fabric that practically looks like it's been poured on his pale self. It's a nicely matched combination of leggings and undershirt, with a rich, creamy white tunic over it that looks like it's pretty well been melted on. Embroidered on the tunic? Round flowers in rich red - but, from a distance, they just look embarrasingly like circles. He kind of fritters around off to a side, wringing his hands, and periodically shooting a glare at…
Rezia, of course.

Venryk is probably having a good time. He's hurrying along though to get to where he needs to be near the stage. Or maybe he's just running after that creepy, lurking, robe-wearing.. "Oh hey, Heryn!" Alright, so he might've seen the bartender skulking out of the barracks in that thing. The healer, however, isn't bothering to hide himself. No, he's thoroughly /not/ a weaver, or a maker of anything cloth-like. Why bother trying to hide that? The shorts and the tank he's wearing are definitely normal enough, although given their black coloring, hey /may/ have pilfered them from Jaelyn's clothespress. The tank top at least seems to fit much better than his usual kind that hang off of him somewhat. There's a slight jangling when he walks, having put on a number of bracelets and even fit a few onto his ankles for added effect. It seems he's even decided to run the risk of wearing sandals again, just for the occasion. His arms however have been wrapped in bandages. All the way from shoulders to wrists, bandages curl around the appendages. Fashionista..he is not. But at least he found someone that has a bit of paint with them. Or dye, considering that it's in his hair, too. Bits and pieces of the ends of his curls have been dyed blue, along with a few streaks around his eyes. There's a quick look at Cita though, eyes growing wide when he finds her nearby. "Is that gonna fall off?"

Serena can see that the candidates have arrived so she does what she is here to do. She walks up on stage and raises her hands to quiet the assembled crowd, "Ok everyone…this is how this is going to work. Each of the candidates will step onto the stage and model for us what they have done and after showing it off will talk about what it means and why they did it. After everyone has had a turn Samiryth will annouce the winner and we can talk about the prizes." Of course there are prizes! What is a contest without prizes. Samiryth beams out over the crowd of uniquely dressed candidates and other weyrfolk. This is her element. When Cita says she looks pretty she chuffs approvingly and moves to stand in front of the stage to show off her own clothes. She's not competing of course but she does like to show off. Serena points down to Heryn, "You are up! Show us all what you've got." With that comment she moves off to the side of the stage to allow Heryn his turn on the catwalk.

Sundari is curiously watching the few that are coming up and then there are a few more and shegrins a bit while settling down upn a bit of a seat of some rocky bit near the cavernso she can just take it all in. One Heryn is pulled to go first Irk let's out a bugle from above. Seems the blue did really take a liking to him, don't worry it should pass in a day or so!

"Venryk!" Thank goodness. Some sanity in this sea of fabric, or so Heryn's expression seems to read, blue-grey eyes flicking over the boy's attire. "Nice hair. The blue suits you," he drawls before following his gaze over towards the other Healer and oh Cita, darling. It's on. If you want to play, Heryn will play. There's a heaved sigh and a nod of understanding for Serena and then the robe comes off. Long, fitted pants that might have once been some pale shade of khaki have been dyed in a patchwork melange of sapphires, purples, and verdant greens, liberally painted over with small, irregular black spots that trail off before vanishing into black boots. Similar colors have been brushed over the bartender's skin from the waist up, never quite the same shade of blue or green or even purple, depending on how he's viewed. Clearly done himself, the colors cling mostly to his sides and chest, enough to give an illusion without requiring a full-bodied paint job. Leopard-like spots stand out against his skin, with a contrasting white painted around and over his eyelids so that, when closed, they give him the appearance of milky white eyes. And he isn't completely topless, thank you, though considering sheer, colorful fabric is merely slung up over his shoulders from back to front, it isn't exactly a shirt either. The sheets of fabric have been tucked into his pants and held there with a single white belt, from which dangles long coils of cloth curled to create swirling tentacles. And is that…? Yes, Heryn has been liberally doused in glittermist. The man tries to work it, really he does, doing his best imitation of Nadarya or one of their other more fashionably-minded candidates, but the effect is rather ruined because he's grinning and on the verge of laughter the entire time. This is ridiculous! Still, the good-sport attitude stays long enough for him to offer a quick, "I decided to theme my costume after our barracks pets, the little sea creatures that have been taking up the tidepools for the past couple months." And now watch him flee!, never to live this down again~.

Cita beams beatifically at Samiryth, observing the dragon as she moves over; making appropriate impressed faces. Really — it's impressive, enough material to cloak a dragon, and the craftsmanship besides! "I love the colors!" The Candidate calls. Granted, she isn't only buttering up the dragon. Noodle gets a particularly loud and playful whistle, and Venryk a bright grin for his improvised adornments. The younger healer's bandage-wraps get Cita's approval. "That's smart, the bandages." Cita confides, plucking at the thin fabric of her gown with a shrug. "I'm not a seamstress, but my stitches are good?" She ventures, not sounding awfully sure. In fairness, is that…Heryn? What. He's blue? Green? "The sharding…" SIGH. "What is he even wearing."

If Rezia could woot louder, she would. She totally, absolutely, completely would. Really, she's obnoxious enough in the background as it is. Clapping! Cat-calling! But, of course, it's mostly out of enthusiasm and excitement than out of anything lascivious.
Noodle, meanwhile, just watches and wilts, somehow looking even more like his nickname than he usually does - which is a feat. He scuffs his paprika-colored boot, sighs, and just kind of shuffles a little bit more. Spicy meatball? No ma'am and or sir; he's just a depressingly limp noodle right now. Er. Noodle. With the capital N.

Venryk tilts his head briefly at the compliment from Heryn, smiling all the more. "Yeah? I'm not used to wearing the color on my /head/, but…if it works?" He'll go with it for the time being. He stays with Cita though when the bartender is called to the stage, nodding. "Well yeah, the stitching part is fine,I think. It at least doesn't look like it's coming apart or anything. I /like/ that, though!" His own bandaged arms get a bit of a look, before shaking his head. "Didn't really have enough to do more than this though. It's kinda weird, but…eh! Heh, I just want to know what he's wea—/oh/." That robe is /off/, and there's an abrupt, loud whistle from the healer. Heryn is painted and /sparkly/. He gives some applause for the other candidate as well, waving at him to come /back/ over once he's all done with stage time. "Oh that is /perfect/! You look so..well…it's so.. You're shiny!"

Samiryth watches Heryn closely as he unveils what it is he has conncocted for the show. She cants her head to the side as she takes in what it is he's done to himself. A low humm can be heard from the green as she takes into account all the nuance…or lack thereof depending on what criteria she is judging by. She sneaks her head in a bit closer to sniff at the bartender. Yes. Apparently this is a thing that goes along with fashion and she pretends to swoon a bit as she backs away from the stage. The judgement has been passed on Heryn. Serena reappears and smiles widely, "Okay…that was definitely a thing that happened." she says as he eyes scan the audience once more, "OK. You are up." she says pointing to Cita.

Heryn definitely pauses at the back of the runway long enough to be sniffed and judged, costumed shoulders shaking with what is now probably nervous laughter before it seems he's dismissed and can dart down off the stage for reals. There might be a pointed flick of two fingers from his eyes to Rezia's out there in an 'I saw you!' gesture, but then he's making his way back to the cluster of candidates over yonder. Having more or less tuned out at the beginning, he eyes Noodles' spicy little getup with a raised brow and a drawled, "Nice! Did you embroider the uh…" Flowers? Circles? "Patterns?" There we go. Hands flick to dispel nervous energy as he shifts his attention to Venryk, one brow flicking up. "Was that you whistling?" It's asked through a laugh. "Shiny. That's definitely the word for it. I can't believe I did this." He really can't, at all. Cita is waved to, but before comment can be made, the Healer is called up. "Your turn. Work it!"

Noodle scuffs his toe and kind of pulls a bit of a face when he - horrors! - is recognized and called out by Heryn. "Oh. Uh. No-" If he looks anywhere but at Heryn, he'll be safe, right? But, no. The man is blinding in his radiance and he must squint. "No, I mean. I guess it comes this way. She helped. Kind of." He points vaguely in Rezia's direction. "She found it. She said…" his voice drops lower, with a bit of a quiver, "… she said I'd look delicious."
Rezia, helpfully, waves vigorously back and smiles double-wide when she sees Heryn with what is probably one of Pralayth's many kills- er, Candidates. See, she caught that look earlier. That wink? That says she knows. She is a knowing brownrider and that is dangerous.

"It won't come apart." Cita seems pretty confident, but that's not abnormal for the healer. She may or may not still be fuming about being upstaged by the Great Glittering Wonder, it's a little hard to tell. "I had to borrow the tulle. You want to borrow some?" There is an inordinate amount of it trailing behind her. Why wouldn't Venryk want pretty lilac tulle? No time for sharing, though! The clapping riders are eyed nervously for a moment, but it doesn't take long for a confident mask to be put back on. She's got this. Absolutely. Heryn gets a look that can't seem to decide between grumpy and amused; the latter, apparently, wins, as Cita salutes jauntily and struts up on-stage. It can't be any worse than being reviewed by a master healer, right? The candidate tosses her ribbons out of her face and pauses mid-way, arranging the skirts and train with a flourish. "I had extra time in the infirmary, while I was studying. Thought that I'd re-use some old gowns. You can really find fashion anywhere, can't you?" The candidate smiles cheekily for Samiryth, then ambles back off-stage like she's got all the time in the world. It would work, maybe, if she didn't nearly trip to her death on the train disembarking. Nailed it.

"Well it's a good sort of shiny!" Venryk laughs, though at least at close range he's better able to inspect Heryn and all of his painted glory. He grins, bandaged fingers lightly tapping together. "Where did you even /get/ the glitter? And where can I get some? Also yes, that was me. Seemed pretty appropriate, given how we're meant to flaunt around." That's what they're /supposed/ to do, right? Wait, but he's being offered other things by Cita? Alas, she's gone before he can accept! There's disappointment there, lips drawn into a faint frown for just a moment. Drat! But he still offers applause for the other candidate being up on stage, at least until that tripping incident. Then there's a slight gasp from the healer. "Are you okay? You didn't like..horribly twist an ankle, did you?"

Freshly bathed, but extremely late, Emiallis makes her way onto the scene. Someone had decided her mucking job wasn't up to par, and sent her back to do every single stall over. With her eyes red-rimmed and her arms crossed over her chest, she's the very image of a sulking, glaring child as she hangs at the back of whatever crowd has gathered. The eyes she'll totally blame on getting sweetsand in her eyes during her hasty bath to rid herself of the smell of manure. Faranth help whichever person decides they're brave enough to face the mood she's obviously displaying.

Samiryth considers the unique use of old gowns and ribbons. She gives a huff and leans in just like before to get a good look and smell of the ensemble. That done she pulls back and watches as Cita moves off stage. She does catch the trip, but it is unknown if points will be deducted or not. Serena reappears once more and this time when she comes out she surveys the crowd and when he gaze comes to rest on Mr. Noodle she knows who she has to pick for this round, "Ok. Your turn next." she says indicating Noodle, "Do your best."

Oh dear. Oh no. Noodle goes paler than usual - somehow - and nods a few too many times to Serena - and Samiryth, for good measure. "Oh jays, oh no. Oh jays, oh no." It's the worst mantra ever and he repeats it under his breath the entire time. Sadly, there really isn't a whole lot for him to work. He's a floppy, thin caricature of a human being and he knows it. Worse? He resembles some kind of dish made in his name. But, he'll make his way out to the stage and freeze, until Rezia shouts out, "Shake it like parmesan cheese!" Does that even make sense? Clearly it must. It snaps the poor guy out of his panic sweats and he sets off down that stage doing a cartwheel. One, two, three and then he's tumbling into a somersault and ends up as a human pretzel at the end. This is intentional. His inability to get out of it? That's not planned. After some grunting, the cayenne-colored Candidate in his creamy white tunic is forced to awkwardly crabwalk on his hands and butt to the other end of the stage with a feeble, "Help? Please?" Uh oh.

"The glitter's from the little squid things, believe it or not! Emiallis got the idea to bottle it up and I… stole the idea." Which, speaking of, there she is!, and not looking too happy, though Heryn offers her a wave anyways. The bartender laughs for that jaunty salute of Cita's, falling silent for the moment when she heads for the stage. Or. At least he starts that way. Her strut earns a series of cat-calls and "oh, girl" comments from the bartender, who definitely isn't above embarrassing the hell out of people that aren't him. Go figure, right? There is a rough snort for Cita's description of her outfit, but Heryn is easily distracted from her exit to turn his attention to Noodle. Oh Noodle. Too good, too precious for this world. Heryn follows his gaze out into the crowd towards Rezia, and really there's just no mistaking who the younger candidate is discussing. That wink would make it obvious, even if it weren't before. "Shells, really?" And then the kid is up, and Heryn can only stare, thoroughly missing whatever Venryk might have said there for a second as he… watches… Parmesan cheese. Cartweels. The man just can't. "Uhm. Here. Let me just…" He has no idea where to start, but he at least holds up his robe so one of those Healer-types can help put bodyparts where they belong?

Emiallis definitely see's Heryn, seeing as he's been doused with Squid Shimmer(TM) but he merely gets a blink and a half-hearted, cranky lift of a hand from it's crossed position before it returns. The girl might as well be a statue for all the reaction Noodle's performance gets from her. Which, to say, is a singular raised eyebrow. The girl doesn't budge from her spot though. She doesn't have an outfit to show beyond her normal clothes. But after Noodle disappears from the stage that visible gloom-cloud grows just a touch darker.

"I'm okay," is said in a voice that definitely isn't. He's saying the words, but his eyes say that nothing will ever be okay again. Noodle's not a heavy guy, so bundling him up to take him to a Healer could be managed easily by a strapping man or a reasonably healthy young girl. Either way. Honestly, a decent pair of firelizards could do it, if they didn't find his hair delicious as they're wont to do. "… I think I squished a meatball," is lamented in a tiny voice as he reaches out Heryn's offered robe. He offers a smile, but it's pretty melted and, frankly, it'll take some doing to get him back to rights again. "… I think I need an adult." Or a Healer. Whatever.

Venryk looks positively..awed for a moment. "So..what? You rubbed them all over?" Well there's an interesting image. Because that's what's bound to come to mind if Heryn's getting his glitter from squiddies! There's a slow look up and down the bartender candidate's glittery, painted frame. "..Mmhm. Okay then." And..really. Poor Noodle. There's not much the healer can do but gape at what happened, his own confusion quite obvious. "I don't…what?" What /did/ happen? The darkness of Emi's gloom draws his attention though, and the teen quite promptly grins right at her. Yep, there's a grin for all that grump. He shuffles over closer to the problem that is Noodle though, eyes wide. Alas, he's not healer enough to handle /that/ problem.

Samiryth watches the *ahem* performance with a certain level of impassivity. Afterall a fashionable lady such as herself can't deign to even acknowledge the utter /disaster/ that was Noodle. The green just clucks her tongue against the roof of her mouth and sighs as she looks away from the stage. Which of these candidates will taket he stage next to per /her/ fashionshow back on track? Serena isn't sure what to do about the Noodle experience either. She doesn't bother to help him because its not her job and she returns to the stage with less of a smile than usual and points to Venryk, "Your up. Try not to suck." She also motions for someone to do something about Noodle.

Cita somehow manages to pull together her dignity, mincing back offstage like a badass. Or at least like she hasn't broken any major bones. "I'm fine, I'm fine." The healer laughs, breathless, flushed just a little like she might like to disappear into the ground. Compared to poor Noodle, she did great. "You got it, Noodle!" Cita enthuses, and he does! For a…moment. And then he really, really doesn't. Really. "Oh, shells." The healer makes a sympathetic face, and then she's scrambling, making an attempt to help the poor Noodle out of his pretzel-y predicament. Somebody has to, before they salt him and send him off to the pasta press — er, infirmary. Somewhere. He wouldn't want to miss Venryk or Emi's performances, would he? "I've got you. Venryk, here!" Well, if he wants it, the train is totally is. Cita can multitask, mostly.

"For Faranth's sake," comes a cool, collected tone, Nadarya parting the seas of humans around her with complete ease. Quite used to having people scatter before her, the too-pretty, too-leggy, dark-skinned woman swoops in to handle the Noodle disaster with a press of red lips. She is… well. 'Stunning' is a word that would have earned a simper from the candidate, dark hair bound up high on her head, outfit an array of increasingly sheer fabrics that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, and she descends on the poor twisted candidate with a jangle of metal bells and bangles. "Here, honey, let me help," she croons towards Citayzleat, painted nails patting the woman's stitched shoulder to make her presence known. One might wonder how that will work, considering she's operating in tall golden stilettos, but she looks determined and is already leaning over to pick the black-haired boy up under his armpits. Because Noods might as well get something out of this raw dough. I mean, deal.

Heryn just kind of… squints at Nadarya's appearance, though really can he even judge based on his own costume? Eyes widen down at Citayzleat in a very 'what is THAT' gesture before he shrugs. "Seems you got this." Besides, the show must go on! "Rubbed them? Nah! Just waited until they made the water all glittery and then bottled it. Sprays right on," he says towards Venryk, smearing one finger across his stomach to show him how it wipes right off. Well. More or less. Blue-grey eyes flick Emiallis's way again when Ven shoots her a grin, Heryn's chin tilting to beckon her closer, if she'll come. As for Venryk, "Ooh, you're up. Work that 'do, be fierce!," he says cheerfully, jerking his head towards the stage. "I'll call out really embarrassing stuff from down here!" Helpful.

Venryk is being called for! Or pointed at, at least. Though there's a bit of a laugh given, hands settling on his hips. "Try not to /suck/? Well I can't make any promises there, you know." Alas for the train part, he's already heading off toward the stage. No extra pieces for his outfit for him. He heads on up though, jangling bands around his ankles making just a bit of noise. Thankfully, there's no attempts at any maneuvers here. The healer makes his way right across with his head high, each step making faint jingling noises. One, two, three and turn, right? Once he gets to the end both arms are held out, waving his fingers. "This is all for..uh.. Well I'm a healer, and /bandages/, so sometimes there's people who have to wear all of this stuff in the infirmary, so I figured..well why not! I /was/ gonna wear proper shoes, but one of mine is now totally wet so the sandals weren't..a planned part of this." The healer pauses a little, looking over himself to try and at least remember the bits and pieces of the ensemble he has. "And..oh the blue! I just thought it'd look nice. /Flair/, you know?" No deep thoughts present here with the production of his outfit. But plenty of enthusiasm at least! He whirls around easily on a heel and makes his way right back off again, pausing for the customary sniffing to happen before hurrying back off the stage.

Emiallis is grinned at? How could he have the nerve…? Instead of a grin begetting a grin, Emi's face falls further into a glare-frown. Her eyes track him as the rider responsible for the show calls him up, willing him to trip over his own feet, based on the intensity of her glare. Heryn's chin-tilt at least gains a moment's pause from her, and some obvious thought. Does she want to go over that way? With Shimmer Boy, Bandage Boy, Tulle Girl and Nothing There? And of course, the Pile of Noodle. Apparently, dispite her foul mood, she is at least moving towards them by the end of Venryk's parade. Slowly, mind you. And she's still glaring.

The green dragon listens to Venryk's words about the outfit that he chose to bring to day and considers with a low hum. Ok. It seems that she now has a choice to make. She moves away from the front of the stage and waddles over to the side of the stage to think about things for a moment before she makes up her mind. Serena reappears and once more does a quick once over of the crowd, "Is there any other candidate who has't had a chance to present themselves for judgement." He eyes briefly catch Emi's presence, but since the candidate doesn't seem to be wearing anything particularly special she doesn't single her out, though she does wait for a response.

Poor Noodle. First Cita, and now Nadarya, who is *so much*. "Thanks, sugar." The healer blurts, sounding at once awkward and amused. Maybe a little sarcastic, but. Y'know. Friendly, at least. How can she deny the help of the other candidate? Plus, even if it's likely to give the poor guy a complex, the help is good. "Come on, Noodle, you did fine. Those cartwheels were great." She soothes, and pauses only to whistle once more — this time for Venryk. The younger healer totally had that. "Good job!" Cita beams, and then turns her attention back to poor Noodle, shuffling along sideways, which is so much better than an awkward crab-shuffle. At least maybe there are less eyes on them over here.

Heryn is… true to his word. Venryk gets up there to walk the catwalk and essentially be more adept than all of them in doing so, with the timing down pat and everything, and Heryn is just plain obnoxious about it. "Shake those bangles!," is the simplest of the cat-calling, and there's definite appreciative laughter for the emphasis on flair. When the younger Healer turns to descend from the stage, Heryn refocuses on Emiallis, head tilting to one side as the girl draws closer. "Hey," he greets, attempting sensitivity despite his eclectic getup. "You okay? Thought we would have seen you here earlier." Her damp, scrubbed appearance is taken in, but he doesn't mention it out of politeness, instead turning to wave to Citayzleat as she and Nadarya shuffle Noodle off the stage. His gaze flicks briefly to Serena, nodding and watching a moment as Samiryth moves off to make her judgments, and finally he relaxes. Whew. The hard part was over! Now just to wait.

Emiallis turns her head down and away from Serena, even as the rider calls out for anyone else wanting to participate. She wants to, but the spoiled child refuses to, without having had time to work on a proper outfit. There might be a few too many quick blinks in there before she's lifting her head again, with that frown still firmly place. Her eyes look just a touch more red, not that anyone should have been close enough to tell the difference in shade. Although Heryn's question promptly makes those green eyes well up again, and there's nothing she can do to hide it this time but blink it all away. "No." Is her terse reply, followed by a quick sniff. "They made me re-muck every. Single. Stall." Not to mention she never had a chance to work on anything.

Venryk just laughs as he finally rejoins the group. Alas, Emi's mental powers have not caused him an accident. Yet. And the boy is still grinning quite happily to find that she's approached said group as well. "That was..more fun than I thought it would be." So what if he sounded like a clueless idiot? He starts with the process of trying to unwind some of the bandages around an arm though, already suffocating a bit in the getup. But Emiallis does get another look, nodding right along with Heryn's question. "Yeah, you look a Well you look like someone tore up a book you were reading and left all the pieces neatly on your pillow… you mucked all the stalls. Eugh.. Sorry about that, that sounds..not fun."

Serena sees no one come forward to try their turn and so concludes that everyone who is going to participte has already participated, "Ok." she says, "We should have our results momentarily." Samiryth walks back to stand in front of the stage as she readies for the annoucement. She strikes the most elegant pose she can think of with her neck outstretched and wings slightly spread. Fashion show is now over! Serena gets the message from the dragon who she has chosen as this candidate classes most fashionable individual, "Samiryth wishes to thank everyone who participated today. She believes that you are all fabulous…" with perhaps the exception of Noodle "…but there can be only one winner and so will sparkle man join me on the stage." she points over toward Heryn.

You say, "Aw, Em, I'm sorry." Heryn offers one arm out in a hug if she wants it, though considering he's beglittered and bepainted, he really won't blame her if she declines. It's the thought that counts, though? "That's awful. Can't believe they'd make you do it all again, considering everybody knew this was today." Sympathies dispensed as best as he can, Heryn aims a grin over at Venryk along with a small nod. "Shells, yeah, right? Thought it was going to be a lot worse, but it turned out alright. I'm about to dead faint if I have to wear this any longer, though." He is, after all, in full-length pants. He looks for a second as though he might follow Ven's lead and start shedding bits and pieces, but then Samiryth is moving back in the direction of the stage and striking a pose, the effect of the stature and the dress eliciting a grin from the bartender before blue-grey eyes focus over on Serena. There's a nod - yep, all fabulous, even poor Noodle what - and will the Real Sparkle Man please stand up? "Wait, what? Oh. Oh, hey!" And, well, there he goes, all nerves again, suddenly glad he hadn't started disrobing as he trots back up to join the greenrider on the stage, all awkward grins and waving for her and her dragon both. "Thank you!" Dork."

Emiallis side-steps away from Heryn. Even though it was her idea to do this to him - a lot earlier - she doesn't want to be hugged by it after bathing. Some back part of her brain is enjoying the view, but at the moment it's a very back part. "I swear it's like someone's been trying to keep me from this." The statement comes out somewhere between a wail, exhausted, and pissed off. But Sparkle Man is being called back up and she shushes, watching him walk off. There's definitely envy there, but she takes a deep breath in, and holds it for a few moments before slowly letting it back out. Don't murder Heryn in his sleep. Don't murder Heryn in his sleep.

Yes, everyone is so happy Heryn kept his clothes on. Incorrect! There's a bright laugh from Venryk though when the bartender is called back up, offering up another whistle for the man and his sparkles. "Good job!"

Once Heryn makes his way up to the stage Samiryth moves away so people can pay attention to the sparkly man. Serena, who is only doing this to please her lifemate, moves off to the side and brings out the prize. And what is it you might ask? In this case the prize is a tall pink Tiara that has been made sort of crudely out of bright pink cloth. The front of the tiara reads, 'Very Pretty'. Sami figured that would work well for anyone and since pink is her favorite color she chose that. Serena places the 'crown' onto Heryn's head and then backs away, "Everyone clap for the prettiest candidate!" Once thats said she moves to scurry off stage doing her best not to laugh. She doesn't want to ruin Samiryth's event after all. As she reaches the edge of the stage she waves to everyone, "Thanks for coming out. Enjoy the rest of your evening!" And with that she is gone.

Heryn shoots Venryk a wink for that whistle before coming to a stop next to Serena, looking nervous but still somehow pleased with himself… until that crown comes out. Even the people in the back can probably see him sigh, though ultimately that accursed good nature of his bids him to stoop so the woman can easily place it on his head for him to wear and… Okay. So maybe some little part of Heryn is a ham. Making beauty queens everywhere proud, the man stands straight afterwards, cupped hands waving about with the occasional blown kiss thrown out for flavor, shoulders visibly shaking with laughter as he bows himself backwards off the stage whether people clap or care or not. "Thank you! Thank you! And thank you, Samiryth!" Eventually, he makes his way back to Venryk and Emiallis, still quaking with laughter as he shakes his head. "This is the best thing," he says, adjusting his makeshift tiara, "but if I don't get this glitter off me, stat, I'm going to freak." Indeed, he's already making to head towards the hot springs, shedding tentacles and his sorry excuse from his shirt, but not his crown. No, that he'll keep on for some time, because he's Very Pretty.

Emiallis is suddenly stopped short with her envious looks as the prize is pulled out and placed on Heryn's head. Both eyebrows go upwards and she just stares. "That has to be a joke." She looks at Venryk, then back to Heryn. "That has to be a joke!" Yeah, she's sounding like she might be walking on the fine line of sanity at the moment. "There's no way I'd be caught dead wearing that." And here she thought this was actually some sort of tasteful judge of fashion. Though the right person probably still won. Even as Heryn is running away and shedding things, she at least has just enough of a sense of humor back to shout out after him. "Try the short-shorts next time! You look a little hot!" In more ways than one. Then her gaze shifts back to Venryk and she sighs. "Right. I think I'm headed for the barracks." Yeah, she's sounding a bit tired now.

Czaiath rumbles from the side of the precedings, his eyes whirling brightly at the displays.

Venryk can't help it. There's laughter and the poor healer is visibly shaking from it when the prettiest trophy ever is brought out and placed upon Heryn's head. His eyes remain glued there, though, as the bartender oh so /graciously/ accepts his award. "Oh I don't think it's a joke at /all/. He /is/ the prettiest!" He at least does manage words between bouts of giggling. Though there's a smile offered Emi. "So not a total loss, huh?" No participation means no chance of wearing The Hat. There's applause though given to Heryn once the candidate comes back down, nodding. "Can't blame you. Looks fun for a little while but that's gotta start feeling..weird after a bit." He's still pulling at bandages, too though, and promptly starts following the bartender. "You're not the only one though. I've gotta get this stuff out of my hair..if it even /comes/ out! I have no idea, I didn't even ask. Oh! Okay though, see you around!" There's a wave given to Emiallis even as he trots after Heryn, using some of the bandage to rub at the paint on his face.

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