==== September 25, 2013
==== Dimitri, Hannah, Jyke, Kapia, Kierlen, Kultir, Nika, Q'fex, Sytin
==== Visitors to the boardwalk come and go, but some Candidates end up in a sticky mess!

Who Dimitri, Hannah, Jyke, Kapia, Kierlen, Kultir, Nika, Q'fex, Sytin
What Visitors to the boardwalk come and go, but some Candidates end up in a sticky mess!
When There is 1 turn 1 month and 21 days until the 12th pass.
Where Southern Weyr - Board Walk

hannah_default.jpg Sytin-Young_Icon.jpg


Ancient-cut stone stretches broad, smoothed by the wind and the weather and the rain to create a boisterous center of commerce. Wood overlays stone in places, patterned and pretty, to attract the eye of those traversing the strip to particular vendors. Though not the size of the tremendous markets of the North, the boardwalk's offerings show the knowledge of ageless crafters: Smith contraptions, Herder-certified animals, Starcraft maps and Weaver textiles are only some of the things that may be purchased, among the spicy scents of beach food and the contrast of bright shells and dark stones from the shoreline.

"Hey!" Step side, coming through! "Aagh, get moving!" Several complaints can be heard from behind a food stall, with its owners being shoved aside for a mere… delivery boy. By the name of Dimitri. He's got a big bag slung over his shoulder that looks like it may be just as heavy as he is, held in both hands just at his neck. In a mix of hurry and wanting to get this OVER with, its gravity-aided swinging causes him to unsteadily swaaay past and into people before he FWOMPS it down between two merchants. Craftsman. Whatever. He doesn't much seem to care, out of breath from having hauled that thing here on an order. He'd much rather slink back out of the crowd, even if he's doing a bit more staggering than slinking right about now, regaining his breath and pushing both hands against his back to aid with a good stretch. Gotta love the stretches. His face doesn't show much annoyance, though the fact that he's tired is made as soon as he leaves the general bustle and finds himself a spot just to the side. On the ancient-cut stone just out of most people's ways? He sits. Then lets himself fall back with his arms stretched out by his sides. And just stares at the sky for a while. Now is rest time, apparently. Or maybe it's roadkill impression time. Hard to tell.

For once Nika is moving at warp speed. No today is a rest day for the vast amount of energy with which the woman moves through life. Today is a day for soaking in the finer aspects of life. Or at least the more curious things life has to offer. Hopefully the place if devoid of headmen and candidates who in combination ruin her ability to consume the stranger things one might find on the boardwalk. As it is she's slipping by with a strange looking piece of meat and a clearly alcoholic beverage of a rather delightfully bright coloring. And she would just pass by Dimitri, but who can NOT spot roadkill and want to exam it? "Mitri!" The high pitched squeal of her sing-songy voice cuts through the crowds, followed closely after by her form. SIP. Is that mean to rub in? "How are you?" And how is the life of a white knotted candie that she has practically forced him into?

It IS mean. Dimitri looks, for a moment, excited to hear this voice! And lifts himself off the ground just ever so slightly! … But then he remembers something. And falls right back down. Thud. Nika gets a look that is something in between weariness and suspicion. "… Thirsty." 'S all he's GOT for you, Nika. Both his arms lift from the ground individually now, to reeeaach, like a zombie, for that lovely coloured brai— beverage.

Meandering in from the direction of the clearing, a relatively tall youth slides through the crowd with a towel draped over his neck and dark hair plastered down from sweat. Skin in hand is sipped from and the stalls eyed as Sytin makes his way through the bustling crowds and toward the end, complete with the odd "'Scuse me" and "Pardon me" as he goes. Can't say he isn't being polite about it, no siree! And then a certain crazy bluerider is spied and eyebrows lift, a grin splitting the young man's face. License to have some fun? Maaaaaybeeeeeee… "Hey 'Mitri! Nika!" Hand waves and the boy jumps to bob above the crowd a few times, getting just a little closer with each leap. A regular spring loaded teenager, here!

Looks of suspicion they hurt little Nika's feelings. But it only shows for a moment before her demeanor returns with a giggle. "Oh, Dimitri!" Is breathed in fake exasperation as she shakes her head. And just to make sure he keeps himself out of trouble she down the rest of the fruity concoction and toss the cup off to the side. She does however a hand to help the much larger male stand. She can help. Like the little rider who could. "Sytin!" Is called with a wave at the candidate. "HI! How are you? Help me get Dimitri off the ground. 'for his knot gets all dirty and someone thinks he's from a different Weyr or sumfin'."

Caelth spies on everyone guardedly. Is someone upsetting Nika? Nobody better be upsetting Nika!! His rider won't like it, so he won't like it. And that means humans as toothpicks and getting in trouble. Nobody wants that. Grrrr.

Nika can handle herself, stomps her foot to prove it.
Caelth is mollified. But still looks snarly! Rar.

Nnooo, drink. Dimitri's eyes follow the cup off to the side, and his arms fall limply across his chest. No more reason to liiiive. But then there's a hand offered, and he grabs for it seemingly more out of a reflex than anything else. Finally inclined to rise, he does so without much of Nika's help and mostly just by rolling himself back to his feet, letting go of her hand shortly afterward. There's a clumsiness to the way his foot placement and the way he oh so dramatically stumbles back a step, but who knows with him. Performer, after all. Might be part of the plan. "Nika, Nika, you're breaking my heart." He turns his head to look to Sytin next, with an utterly forced and unconvincing smile. He doesn't sound particularly sad or angry, despite his words. "She's breaking my heart! Did you hear? The knot. I'm on the floor, and she's talking about the knot."

Kultir wanders in from the Beach with a damp towel over his bare shoulders, hair and shortpants still dripping wet. His expression has gone from contented to a little irked as he does his best to thread his way through the crowd on the Boardwalk. He sighs and steps aside as a short merchant stops short in front of him with a tray of obviously alcoholic beverages, which of course earns the little man a scowl from the tall, buff Candidate. Too bad he's not wearing his tunic with the shiny white knot on the shoulder, maybe then the man wouldn't be so insistant. "I ain't got nae marks fer it, ye berk!" he says loudly enough to draw the eye of a few patrons nearby. The which is true enough since his shortpants don't carry any pockets on them. He glances around at the sound of a familiar face and sees Dimitri being helped to his feet by a short woman that … after a time, he recognizes as Nika. A groan and a facepalm is given as he shoulders past the insistent merchant and has the teen moving back up the road toward the Weyr. "Jes wha' I don' freakin' need, ri' now …" is grumbled as he tries to slide past the Wingleader before she can see him.

Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. For someone who was just chopping wood this boy really shouldn't have this energy leftover! Maybe Sytin's just excited and the adrenaline will give way any moment. He moves over to where Dimitri and Nika are, offering a grin down to her as he stands about a foot taller than she. "Are you being a sack of tubers again, Dimitri?" the youth asks with a broad grin. When the performer gets up without his help he has to actually look up at the youth, who is actually taller than him. "Everybody breaks your heart, Dim." A wry grin creeps across his features. "I bet even the dragons will." It's a joke, though perhaps in poor taste. He just doesn't quite have that knack just yet. Give it time! Kultir's voice is heard and it causes the boy to turn, frowning as he searches the crowd. Did he just imagine it?

"Breaking your heart?" Nika, rather than look concerned, only grips at her sides in laughter. Having forgotten the meat clutched in her non-helping candidate hand it leaves a greasy stain against her spare riding leathers and her lunch plops unceremoniously onto the ground. Kultir is spared a Nika-ing only by Sytin who receives a smile which says, 'Buuuurrrrnnnnnn'. "You look like you have more energy than me!" She jabs a finger toward the younger candidate. "Are we not working you hard enough." Shoulders shake with giggles yet again.

Poor taste, shmoor taste. Dimitri actually grins at the comment about the dragons rejecting him, the quick change in expression doing more than implying that apparently he wasn't that upset after all. That's not to say he won't follow up on Nika's little comment, though. Yes, let us find a common enemy, Nika! Sytin is peered at like he might want to STUDY the younger Candidate. And reaches over to for a ruffle of his hair, if he manages! "I don't think you are, Nika." He shoots her a glance, even if brief. "I think you should tell him to get a drink for the thirstier Candidates who ARE doing their work."

Kultir finds him shuffled and shoved by other people not caring where they're walking and probably wondering where that brick outhouse came from that they just ran into. The teen is now well and truly irked and wishing that he'd remembered to take the longer way around to the Weyr since he'd not bothered with his boots when he'd gone for his run and swim after chopping wood all afternoon with Sytin. He'd left the younger boy to do … whatever he did to relax after the chore was finished and gone for his run, pushing himself to seven furlongs today followed by a hard swim through the surf. Suddenly he finds himself behind and to one side of the gaggle of people that includes Nika, Dimitri and Sytin and does his best not to be noticed … but seriously, he's nearly as tall and much broader than Dimitri … who's not going to notice him? At just that moment a man in rough clothing steps back and lands his booted heel right on Kultir's bare foot. "Yah!" he boy yells and bends over to grab the now throbbing foot and land on his backside in the dirt. Now he's playing the sack of tubers.

Spying the dropped haunch, Sytin quickly stoops down to pick it up for Nika, even going so far as the blow on it, trying to dislodge some of the sand and other debris sticking to the moist exterior. Er, five second rule? He offers it to the bluerider with a grin, straightening just in time to encounter Dimitiri's ruffling hand. "Gah!" is his cry of surprise and maybe just a little indignance as his hair suddenly is no longer plastered to his skull but instead sticking out in all directions, like a prickly beast. "They're working me plenty hard, Nika, I just… I gotta keep up the good spirits, right? Dragons like positive people, don't they?" Oh, what things have they been telling this poor boy in the barracks? A pointed look is directed at Dimitri though, along with a scowl. "I'm on break you dead glow!" Insert teasing eyebrow waggle here. Because it looks funny on a twelve-turn-old. And then there's that yell, which causes the former Apprentice to turn again. Just where is that sound coming from?!

"Eww. No thanks" The bluerider waves at the disgusting offer, with a crinkle of her nose and Nika may just be about to back Dimitri up on his request for a drink, her tiny finger lifting in the air again to make a proclamation, but then there is a screech and a heavy thud not to far from her and with the finger still in the air her head turns away from the two candidates she was going to be addressing. "Kultir!" Concern ringing in her voice as she bounces over. Petite feet so close they would touch him if he shifted, she leans over the boy and peers into his face. "Are you okay? Do you need a healer? If you were a dragon I could check you myself. But you aren't a dragon. I'd have to find a people healer. Did you hit your head? Do you hurt? I dunno wanna be accused of breaking one of the candidates!" Despite her comments her face is drawn up warmly in sympathy for the fallen lad.

Pleased his ruffle was successful, there is a temporary brightening of Dimitri's grin. One person's life made slightly more comfortable? His job here is done! He looks like he might have a retort for the younger Candidate but then suddenly there is a Kultir-sized distraction. And what better time to take a few sneaky quiet steps to the side, and then slip off and into the crowd for a break of his own? There isn't even a good bye for Nika, though whether that is to prevent him from giving himself away as fleeing the scene or something else remains a mystery!

Kultir looks up at Nika hanging over him with all her questions of concern and whatnot and scowls, it's a permanent fixture apparently. He grumps as he gives his foot another hard rub and shoves the pain out of his head as he pushes himself back to a standing position. Normally a very polite young man, he's not happy in a crowd like this and shrugs his shoulders and looms enough to make most of the shorter people back off and give him room. "I be fine, Ni .. err, Wingleader." he says, remembering to give her the proper title after a moment's hesitation. "I don' be needin' a Healer, ma'am. Big berk jes' stomped m' foot flat…" The boy glares in the direction the man left by and shrugs again, his skin itching at the feel of so many people around him.

The lanky Candidate eyes the mutton with hungry contemplation as the bluerider turns it down, but in the end he sets it down for the animals to eat. Won't go to waste, surely! Then Nika catches in on the yell and Sytin follows the bluerider, now sure that he's not merely hallucinating due to the heat or anything. "Aw, shells, Kultir, didja break something?" He is genuinely concerned, though he stays behind Nika so she cannot see his faintly mirthful expression. Dimitri's exit goes unnoticed for now, seeing as there is a a much more exciting prospect here before him. Fly, you fool!

It may be a good thing Nika misses her friend leaving without saying goodbye, but her attention is on the injured Kultir. "Yah. You gotta be careful round here, people dunno always know how big they are." In crowds it is sometimes good to be a very small person, though the knot probably helps. "Ok. I want call one, but if you broke in and you don't go, it's on you." Still she smiles and waggles a finger at the boy. "Be sure to stay on it as much as you can. Dunno want it tightening up on ya." At least that's what they say about dragon wings. Work them but over do 'em.

Kultir hmmphs at the bluerider and shakes his head, a slight smile overcoming the scowl. "I dunno how ye manage out 'ere … ye'r so small and nobut's stompin' on ye." he mutters, bending to recover his towel and shake the dust from it before draping it back over his shoulders. "I'm gonna go soak in the baths … warm water'll gi't some relief and a bit o' numbweed'll take care th' rest o' it." He shrugs, he's had enough bangs and bashes since he got that white knot she made him take that he knows pretty well how to take care of himself. His eyes find Sytin smirking at him and would really like to reach over and smack the kid upside the head but … he can't with Nika watching.

"I dunno. Maybe cause I have a BIG personality!" The woman's hands stretched out as far as the can as she beams upward at the stalk of a candidate. "Not too much warm, it'll swell." Some things just transfer over whether the patient is winged or not. Sytin, "Will you make sure he makes it to the bathes okay, and if it does start to swell make sure he gets to a healer." Nika destroyer of worlds, caretaker of feet. And then with a waggle of fingers and a giggled goodbye the woman disappears as quickly as her friend, but in the opposite direction.

Bippity, boppity, boo! Sytin's hiding behind the tiny blue! Well, the rider anyway. Except suddenly Nika's leaving him. NOOOO! The Wingleader is deserting him! He no longer can hide his amusement behind the protection of the rider and gives Kultir a chagrinned look, rubbing the back of his neck. No smacky? Her parting words earn a quick "Yes'm!" from the boy as she admonishes the younger man to ensure the other Candidate is adequately cared for and he watches, making sure she's completely gone before turning back to Kultir. "Uh, what she said." Fingers waggle in the direction she took off too and he offers another sheepish smile. "Are you all right though? Seriously?"

Kultir watches as Nika departs and turns a feral grin on the younger Candidate and takes a step or two toward his friend, hand raised. "Yeah … like you're gonna get me to see the Healers for stomped on foot, Sy." he says, mischief dripping from his tone. His hand shoots out and baps Sytin lightly on the side of the head. "Consider yourself bapped, boy." He laughs softly and is suddenly in a much better mood. The tall teen heaves a heavy sigh and shrugs again, muscles rippling as he tries to settle himself a bit more. "What'd you do after chores, eh?"

Her previous attempts having failed, Kapia is once again dashing along the boardwalk in her borrowed, oversized tunic, desperately trying to find a weaver still selling their wares before the shops all close for the day. There's a little frown of worry and frustration on her face as she wanders through the unfamiliar boardwalk. Her expression relaxes somewhat as she spots a familiar face, giving Sytin a little smile and a wave before wandering in his general direction.

Kierlen is on the boardwalk, down by the sea — oh, what was he doing? He seems to have quite forgotten what he was out here for, and just decides he's going to stroll like the boss he is, hands in pockets, letting the wind ruffle his hair. But hark: there are candidates here! An interesting group to observe, yes? And so he does, edging closer to the little knot with an easy grin on his face.

"Ow!" Well, not really, but Sytin has to sound like the duly chastised younger sibling, after all! It's his sacred duty! As Kultir settles down the boy crouches, arms draping over his thighs and hanging between them. "Not much, really. Got some fresh air, came out here, ran into Nika and Dimitri, I think you know the rest from there." His shoulders roll in a shrug and a flash of a familiar face catches his eye out of the crowd and he raises a hand in the wave, not fully certain who it is just yet. Kierlan doesn't quite stand out of the crowd yet, but that's doubtless about to change if he gets much closer!

Kultir laughs at Sytin's mimic of pain like the good little brother he is and shrugs. "You need to start running, you know?" he says with a poke at the boy's shoulder. "You know you're welcome to join me. Though … I made seven furlongs this evening and then a couple furlong swim too. Think you're up for that kind of workout?" He grins at the boy, challengingly.

Kapia is quite short. One of the downsides of this is difficulty being seen in a crowd. So, she has to wade a little closer to get within full view of the candidate. "Sytin! Hi! How are you? Have you…" Only then does she realize she's just barged in and rudely interrupted a conversation in progress. She blinks, then smiles sheepishly at Kultir. "Oh! Hi there."

Kierlen does eventually get closer, a casual observer of the microcosm of life about the Weyr. When he's close enough, he offers greetings, all too chipper for his own good, perhaps. "Candidates. Good day to you."

Head tilts as Kultir mentions the idea of running. This merits consideration. "Well…." Lower lip is bitten and finally he shrugs. "Won't know until I've tried, so why the shells not?" Sytin grins. "But if I outrun you you'll have to do something for me." Oh, is that a challenge? Whether or not it is gets interrupted as Kapia suddenly intrudes on their little gathering, but she's welcomed with the self-same grin non-the-less. "Kapia!" He straightens from his crouch only to end up looming over her. LOOM. "Did you ever talk to Renalde?" Oh, yes, he remembers that. And more people are joining the fray. Clearly Sytin's white knot is some sort of beacon. "Oh, hi… uhm?" He smiles apologetically, offering his hand as name and face elude all recognition.

Kultir laughs at Sytin's challenge and reaches out to ruffle the younger Candidate's hair. We'll see … an iff'n ye can'nae keep up wi' me, ye'll be makin' me bunk till Hatchin'." He nods a greeting back to Kierlen, a polite smile curling his lips. Kapia also gets that polite smile and nod of greeting. "Heyas, Kapia … be doin' good?" is asked since he hasn't seen her in … ages. His gaze goes back out to the crowd and sighs as there is no sign of the crowd diminishing enough so that he can limp to the baths and soak his foot from its flattening.

Crowds are clearly not Kapia's cup of tea, either. She looks increasingly uneasy about the number of people about, and her smile turns shyer as she greets Kierlen, the latest to approach. "… Hi?" She looks back to answer the questions from the two actual candidates. "No. Uhm. I was trying to find Renalde, but I got lost. And I still need clothes that fit. And stuff."

Jyke has a full stomach and clothes that are currently clean. For once he can enjoy the crowds while not smelling like the day's catch. Life is good for this seacrafter. He meanders past the various booths taking a gander at the wares on offer. Not shopping for anything in particular really. Just enjoying the evening as it were. There seems to be quite a lot going on out here tonight.

Shopping day! Or at least it was, though Hannah's not found anything that catches her fancy from the multitudes of little crafter booths. Instead, she swishes her hands at her side, sundress a fetching pink color that shows more skin than not. Hair is loose, free. She's whistling a jaunty tune, happily enjoying the spring day. Even gives a little spin in a circle. Life's good. Meandering through the crowd, she's angling for another booth that has something sparkly to catch the eye. The crowd is given a curious look, brows lifting slightly. But the shopkeep distracts with, "This one?"

The sweet scent of streethawkers wares combines with that strange salty smell that rises from Azov's glass-topped bounty to create an aroma that is simply pure Southern — especially when commingled with the faint jasmine of candles lit to entice buyers into stalls with glimmering gems and smooth-shined wares. Riding the heady wave of olfactory stimuli is the Weyrleader, tall and lean and impeccably dressed as he is ever. Dark eyes glitter with amusement, as if he's a joke unspoken but kept at the forefront of his mind; his steps idly sweep him down the boardwalk, unhurried but ground-eating all the same.

If Kierlen's name is offered it is lost to Sytin who is suddenly distracted by Kultir's challenge. "Done!" He agrees, offering a shake on it. After all, it's just a friendly little wager! He grins broadly. "Now I'll have to think of something suitable for you to do in return." Because he's totally going to win, right? Nah, just sounds good! Kapia gets a sympathetic look as she seems to curl in on herself. "Well, when we finish up here maybe I can show you?" He offers his best and brightest smile. "Aife seemed to think I was a pretty good guide." He looks her up and down at the mention of clothes. "I'm sure they can find your something in your size." The hum of the crowd sort of flows around the Candidate in the crowd, the gold and bronzerider unseen as of yet, and the Seacrafter an unknown quantity.

Kultir grips Sytin's hand firmly as he grins, perfectly confident at running the younger boy into the ground on the first run and swim workout. "T'mor'er then … ri' after morning exercise, afore breakfas'." he mumbles to the boy, sealing the deal. He grins at Kapia and nods. "He'll put ye right iff'n ye foller th' directions he gi's." He sighs softly, favoring his right foot a little and wishing he'd been able to get to the baths sooner than it looks like he's going to make it. And, of course … his stomach is starting to rumble at the smells wafting around him. His roving gaze lights briefly on the impeccable Weyrleader and further along …the Weyrwoman and he does a double … wait, huh? Triple take! Oh lovely … Weyrleader, Weyrwoman … and here he is in dripping shortpants and sweatsteaked and downright filthy. What next?

"What're you guys doing tomorrow?" Kapia asks, tilting her head. "Sneaking off for something?" The offer of assistance has her smiling brightly. "Oh! That'd be very helpful! This is /not/ a good outfit for this place, and my other outfit got ruined with that horrible fight…" She glances up, spotting Q'fex in the crowd. She turns red immediately.

Jyke spends a little time at the starcraft booth eyeing the wares and trying to decide if there is anything new about the maps that he hasn't come across before. Nothing appears to be new on the navigation scene however and he soon moves on. Purchasing himself a snack of doughy goodness that's stuffed with berries of some kind. Food on the boardwalk! What a novel idea right? Well perhaps not to Kultir when he runs into the back of the lad and berry juice drips down the lads back. "Ach! Sorry lad!" He wipes ineffectually at the mess ends up spreading the berry juice across his shoulder. Well what a way to blend into the crowd. He heaves a sigh and takes a couple steps back so he isn't crowding the boy.

Sparrrrrrrrrkleeeeeeey thing. It draws Hannah like a fish. "It is lovely," she comments to the shopkeep while reaching for the entirely frilly glass ornament that dangles, refracting the day's light. When Jyke knocks into the Candidate spilling juice, well, that earns a snort of laughter, but the sparklie thing holds her attention. Everything is in good fun, right? Even Kapia's mention of 'fight' gets nothing but indulgence, because. Sparkle. "How much is it?" she queries, channeling some of Bailey's tight-fistedness. Q'fex isn't noted yet — notably because Hannah's is short and there's only so much a short person can see in a crowd when said short person is enthralled by sparkles. Glitters. Faintly floral scents tug on her attention as well. But the sparkle.

Q'fex continues down the way, unconscious of Hannah's presence in the market. He does, however, take note of — whatever it is that Kultir and Sytin are getting involved in. A single, dark eyebrow rises, and the amusement on his face imperceptibly deepens — perhaps the lines about his lips and at the corner of his eyes deepen slightly. Frown or smile, it's hard to tell… from this distance. He does however head over towards the knot of candidates-seacrafters-and-Kapia, at a pace slow enough that someone could FLEE if need be.

"I'll be there," Sytin assures Kultir with a wry smirk and a firm grip. All in good fun, yes? Oh, and he's not counting on Kultir to come up lame at all. Nope. "Tomorrow?" Brows shoot skyward and the Candidate arches backwards, looking up at the sky and blowing a thoughtful sight outward. "Well, usual, I guess. Exercise, chores, study. I'm sure I could get let go to help you get settled though. After all," he straightens and does his best to look straight-laced and maybe just a bit like Renalde. "It's my sworn duty as a representative of Southern Weyr." And then he slouches into something more casual and peers. "Fight?" Interest is piqued but then as Kapia's cheeks redden he swivels, just in time to miss Jyke's accident all across Kultir and at the same time spy Q'fex. "Oh." And then Hannah. Double oh. Towel is snatched from around his neck and swabbed across his face quickly, though it probably does very little good. The does cause the youth to finally see Kultir's predicament from the corner of his eye and he offers the towel to him. "S'not much, but…" Every little bit, right?

Kultir grunts as someone runs into him from behind and hisses at the feel of something hot and sticky dripping down his back. He turns his head to see if he can see what's happened and sighs as his eyes fall on a man a couple inches taller than himself. "Aye … figures …" he mutters to himself. "Dinnae worrit ye'rself … I be gonna get me a bath soon 'nough … I 'ope." He lifts a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose and shake his head. "I shoulda stood i' m' bed t'day …" He feels a headache coming on and his ears burning with embarrassment but … what's the kid going to do? Unfortunately, the boy does not see the Weyrleader bearing down on them though he does see Sytin's offer of the towel and snatches it back, trying to reach the stuff on his back … he can still feel it running down his back. "Aye, to'mor'er … an' I be gonna run ye inta th' groun', Sy." His banter is good natured even if his expression doesn't seem too teasing at the moment.

Kapia doesn't flee, exactly. But she does freeze and continue to blush. "H… hello." She attempts to greet the approaching Weyrleader before she slinks back, trying to halfheartedly hide behind the group of candidates.

Jyke is a bit glad the other boy at least had a towel to offer. He's standing here with nothing to help the matter. Though he hasn't taken a single bite of the snack he shoves it at the kid and just expects him to catch it before it hits the ground. "Here why don' you try it? After all might as well enjoy it if'n yer gonna wear it eh?" He has done gone and embarrassed himself terribly. Just his luck. He highly doubts he'll be making any friends in this particular crowd his evening. So best bet is to retreat and hope for a better run in another day. "Sorry again!" He blends into the crowd then and tries his best to disappear quickly.

Pausing, Hannah touches upon the glass ornament, letting everything else fall away before finally, she spots Q'fex. "Q'fex, come, come." Is that yelling? And handwaving? Maybe. Jyke's leaving, Kultir's predicament, and Sytin's … planning, are all subtly noted in the background, but the junior has her eye on this trinket. It sparkles. Kapia's blush might catch her eye, brows raising before glancing back the direction it comes. Shaking her head, she tucks pale hair behind her ears and starts to try to haggle. Like Bailey taught only… not as good.

Q'fex quirks a brow at the whole altercation-and-run-off, his eyes following Jyke with amusement. MORE amusement. Because what's more hilarious than a grown man fleeing the scene of a crime? Dark eyes focus back in on the group, and he hails them: "Good evening, candidates, ma'am," that last for Kapia, of course. Hannah's waving and calling attract his attention, and he flickers a glance in that direction, and a quick smile; ONE MOMENT.

Fingers waggle at Kultir in a gesture aimed back toward the Weyr. "If you need to hobble back, I understand." A glance is given to the smooshed foot. "You'll probably need the extra time to walk back anyway…" There is a mildly competitive glint in the boy's eye as the berry covered one tries to talk smack. "We'll see." Ah, for the cockiness of youth. Kapia's reaction brings a frown and the lad looks ready to protect the shy girl. "Do you need me to cover your escape?" he offers in a covert whisper to Kapia as she slides behind him. And then that strange seacrafter is off again, almost as suddenly as he arrived. A mystery unsolved, to be sure. Frown creases his features at this, but he's forced to shrug it off, his offer still standing but perhaps too late as suddenly Q'fex is UPON THEM! Fly, you fools! Sytin will hold off the mighty wielder of crotchcrickets with his staff and will! Wait, he doesn't have a staff? His will alone then!

Kultir was totally unready to catch that fruity, juicy pie that is thrust at him by the man who smashed half of it into his back so now, he's got berry juice running down his chest too. Lovely! He wipes at it with the filthy towel and only manages to smear it worse. He freezes in the process of wiping his chest to gulp and look up. "Ummmm, ev'nin', Weyrleader." he says, attempting a decent salute despite his completely bedraggled and filthy state. Things just keep going from bad to worse today … he will just … crawl in a hole now.

Whatever Kapia was going to say in response to the offers of escape is cut off by the actual approach of the Weyrleader. "G… good evening." She says, still doing a terrible job of hiding. She glances at Hannah when the woman calls Q'fex over, trying not to look too hopeful that he will be distracted away.

Happiness! Well that's the expression writ on Hannah's face, though not for Q'fex. Nay, for the Candidates. They seem to be getting along well, despite the juicy problems. She wiggles her fingers, "Good evening," a sweeping greeting-and-exit. The glittery thing will have to wait. Q'fex will have to wait. "Down by the docks is a stall that sells the tastiest sausage ever." Hey, she's totally helping here. And with that, she ducks out. Away. Without the glittery trinket. Bye-bye now!

Q'fex blinks slowly at Sytin, as if awaiting something that hasn't happened — then, deliberately, he snaps out the crispest of salutes for Kultir. "Candidate," a little more warmly. "You seem to have a little something," the man deadpans, "About — there." He gestures vaguely at the boy's chest, lips twitching in effort to keep a smooth non-laughter-infused line. He squints over at Kapia, then; "Do I know you, girl?" is his idle question, as if her face is familiar.

"Good eve, Weyrleader." Sytin makes it sound sincere and even salutes properly. The other hand shoos at Kultir and Kapia behind him from behind his back. Go on with you! Who says that stature determines bravery? Clearly this former Smith didn't get the memo! Or maybe he's been drinking the Southern kool-aid. It's hard to say. He does seem a little taller. Q'fex is regarded with an expression somewhere between respect and earnest, with just the faintest quirks of amusement tweaking the corners of his mouth. "Weyrleader Q'fex, this is Kapia." He gestures formally to the newcomer. "I was just about to take her to the Headman for some proper clothes and a place to lay her head." How's that for being dutiful? HUH?! Seriously guys, time to go! Hand waves behind back again, vigorously.

Kultir's expression is one of embarrassment, despair, humiliation and 'please-just-kill-me-now' as he looks down at his chest where Q'fex has pointed. "Umm, yessir … " he says, blushing even more darkly beneath his ruddy tan. The boy swallows hard and desperately tries to find an unsmeared section of the towel to use to wipe the juice from his chest and failing miserably since the towel isn't the usual bath-sized one … just a little one to wipe his face with, after all. Sytin gets a dirty look when the boy tries to wave him away. One does NOT just walk away from the Weyrleader! He does, however, remain silent until he's spoken too … too flaming embarrassed to do otherwise since he's already dragon deep in runner manure.

Kapia gives Sytin a grateful glance when he takes care of the introductions. "N… nice to meet you, sir." She says with a nervous little sort of smile. "I, ah, recognize you from when I saw the candidates… uhm, touching the eggs." She explains, absently wringing her hands. She glances sideways to the other blushing person present, perhaps hoping for some other good ideas.

"Kapia." Q'fex gracefully takes the introduction with an inclination of his chin to Sytin - his gaze is still a little sharp from that belated salute, there - and leans forwards to offer his hand. "Nice to meet you." Perhaps he's giving Kultir the gracious benediction of time to get himself together; it certainly seems as if he's restraining himself from eyeballing the fruity goo smeared across the poor lad's chest. "Oh, you've seen the eggs, then, hmmm? Dhiammarath outdid herself, don't you think?" His attention, at the moment, is for Kapia.

Kultir's dirty look is blissfully missed by the youth, for Sytin's back is to his peer. All the boy's attention is focused on protecting the honor and dignity of the gentle Kapia beside him. He does stop attempting to shoo the other Candidate into the night, however, as it seems to be doing him no good. Or maybe he's just distracted. Fingers come through his muss of hair and tease it into something resembling order. The sharp gaze is not entirely missed and results in a slight bow of apology to the Weyrleader, though for a change he actually seems to be restraining his galavanting gob from further trouble. Enjoy the respite while you can!

Kultir sighs softly as he finally just lays the sticky towel over the goo on his chest and smooshes it all together to wipe as much of it as he can off onto the towel. A groan escapes as he gets all but a few streaks, and of course the blue berry stain that seeped into his skin like a tattoo. The boy is resigned to looking the fool in front of Q'fex now though the blush doesn't fade nor the sick look in his eyes at the thought of what his fellow Candidates will say when they find out what happened today. The nasty towel gets hidden behind his back as he takes an 'at ease' stance and tries not to wince when he puts more weight on his bruised foot. Next time he'll run in his boots, sharditall! Well, that's as composed as the poor kid is going to get right now but as he's not been dismissed … there's no way for a graceful exit.

"N… nice to meet you, too." Kapia is repeating herself now, but she doesn't seem to quite know what else to say. The hand-wringing continues. "The eggs are… very pretty. Your lifemate is rightfully proud of them." She continues to hide behind Sytin, giving Kultir another little glance. "… How did you get so… gooey, anyways?"

"Oh, they aren't Kraakenaeth's," Q'fex returns to Kapia. "Th'seus' Vossuth is the clutchfather." He glances among the trio and seems to relent — Faranth above, Q'fex must be in a good mood to not stick around and torment them. Or maybe he just does want to catch up with Hannah after all. "You two," he points at Kultir and Sytin however, "Should clean up. You're looking worse than new-hatched dragonets." His voice is mirthful, at least, and not stern. With a last wink at Kapia, he strolls down the way, humming a little under his breath.

Kapia's lucky that Sytin is so tall compared to her petite figure. Well, at least half a firelizard anyway. It's still taller! The girl is tossed half a glance as she repeats herself, something between sympathy at the girl's discomfort and amusement at the Weyrleader's handling of it molding his features somewhere in between. The admonishment to clean up is met with another, snappier salute as the bronzerider departs, frame relaxing as he watches Q'fex slide into the crowd. Once he's positive the man is gone only then does he turn around, facing the cowering Kapia and hobbling Kultir. "Well, that could have been worse…" Doesn't he know when to close his yap? "Shall we?" A look is given to Kapia, along with an arm crooked for escorting. He may not be quite the catch, but he's still a gentleman!

Kultir sighs softly at Kapia's question and just eyerolls at her, didn't she see the anonymous Starcrafter smash half of it on his back and then throw it at him when he wasn't looking? It happened in front of everyone, after all. He nods slightly to the Weyrleader and tries to smile. "Aye, sir … tha' was me nex' stop." he says softly as Q'fex strolls off. Once the Weyrleader is out of earshot, the boy heaves a sigh of relief that … for once, he didn't get yelled at for something outside of his control. The younger Candidate gets another dirty look, this one he'll probably see, as Kultir shakes his head. "Ye'r lack o' verbal control is gonna get us latrine duty till Thread comes!" is the exasperated exclamation from the older Candidate. "I be gonna go git a bath …" With that rejoinder, Kul limps off toward the Weyr and that very necessary bath and maybe after that he'll be ready to eat something … if his stomach unclenches sometime between now and then.

Kapia breathes a sigh of relief once Q'fex strolls off, though she tries not to make it too audible. Her smile is still a little uncertain as she looks back to the other two candidates. "Th… thanks." She says, shaking her head. "I…" Kultir is headed off before she can finish that thought, but then Sytin is offering his arm. She takes it automatically, giving him a little grateful smile. "Sure?"

Sytin frowns a little at Kultir's dirty look and then it deepens as the elder lad chastises him. "My lack of verbal control?" Eyebrow quirks and lips purse and it looks like the boy is of half a mood to argue. "I was trying to rescue you." He scowls and waves the Candidate off and takes Kapia's arm, focusing on her instead as he forces his features into pleasantry. "Come, we'll find Renalde and get you settled right and proper…" And with that the Candidate is leading the newcomer away, back to the Weyr for dutiful things and also a bath himself. Ah, the life of a Candidate!

Add a New Comment