====January 4, 2014
====Ada, K'vvan, Mayte, N'cal, Ralina, Sara, Shea, Trek, Tuli, Vashae
====Arroyo Wing throws a shindig to help build camaraderie within fellow wingriders. (part 2) There is drama in this one. Then it passes.

Who Ada, K'vvan, Mayte, N'cal, Ralina, Sara, Shea, Trek, Tuli, Vashae
What Arroyo Wing throws a shindig to help build camaraderie within fellow wingriders. (part 2) There is drama in this one. Then it passes.
When Autumn, 3 months and 18 days until the 12th Pass
Where Oasis Inn, Igen Weyr

Ada01.png Kvvan2.jpg Mayte2.png Ncal5.jpg party.jpg sara.jpg lipbite-icon.png main.jpg tuli-happy.jpg vashaetria_icon3.jpg

Igen's Arroyo Wing's shindig is still hoppin' over at the Oasis Inn! IC, it's been arranged with the innkeeper to be an exclusive event: Royos and their +1's only. OOC, please feel free to crash! Everyone is welcome to either NPC an Arroyo wingrider (as there are so many blue- and greenriders in the group, shouldn't be too hard), NPC an Arroyo's +1, or say your character came as a +1. It doesn't need to be romantical, just invite-only. (For the scene setting, 'read scene' upon entering.) (@go igw, s, sw, nw)
— entered by Trek on 2014-01-04 16:46 MOO Time.


Oasis Inn

Tucked into a small fold of foothills along the road leading from the Weyr to the Central Pass, this inn truly is just what its name implies - an oasis for travelers coming from either direction. Stabling and board are available - though the boarding comes at a price, since there isn't much of it. The most well known part of the Inn is the tavern - a rustic bar built of solid skybroom and furnished in dark, oiled wood, leather, metal, and glass. Though well used and sometimes abused, the furniture is also well cared for and maintained, and the food and drink draw many a rider in alongside the travelers. The decor is eclectic, consisting in hangings, rugs, carvings, and other things from every region of Pern, bestowed upon the owner in barter for lodging. The atmosphere isn't one of a dive; it's cozier than that, though there //is just a touch of harmless shady to be found - particularly in the evenings.//

-- On Pern --
It is afternoon
It is 1:36 PM where you are.
There are 0 turns, 3 months and 18 days until the 12th pass.
It is the twelfth day of Autumn and 76 degrees. Overnight, the temperatures plummet to a reasonable heat. Sand coats everything.

(Continuing from part one.)

Ada quirks a brow at Trek. "You mean we didn't kill each other," she offers to Trek with a light laugh as she takes a healthy swig of her drink. Ada also lets K'vvan pass, entirely unhindered, to get a drink. Ralina's comment, of course, gets a quirked brow. Oh my…

Trek ends up near Shea again, to whom the blueriding wingleader lifts her drink in silent toast before turning to see who all is dancing now. "So," she says all casual-like, "how's Whirlwind been treating you?"

With no one to molest him into dancing K'vvan has been able to drink to his hearts connect. Occasionally Mayte breaks away from her fun to shove water at the skinny rider, so he manages to not be nearly as drunk as he could be. For the most part though, K'vvan hangs at the bar, cup to lips, being the best date by not being a date. At least for now.

As the harpers make a gambit of songs, Sara finally breaks away from the music, handing over her flute with thanks for the fun. Her dress swirling around, Sara steps back towards her friends, those well known and those less so. When she reaches the bar a drink has already been ordered for her, and Sara sweeps it up into her hands to sip the light wine gratefully. "Glad you liked the tuning, strange to think it has been so long since it was crafted…"

Ralina finally allows K'owuy to go back to prowling the tables for dance partners. Slightly out of breath she bellies up to the bar next to K'vvan and orders a shot of tequila. "Having fun tonight?" She risks smiling at K'vv and hopes he's drunk enough to be in a good mood. While she waits for her drink to be poured she looks out at the dance floor. "Didn't think I remembered /how/ to dance," she comments slyly, "Turns out I still love it."

"Like a girl," is the first thing out of Shea's mouth, because — that is impossible to deny. "That's just some of the wing, though. W'rin has much more attention for the dragon." Golden boy Cervilaevarth is definitely preening outside somewhere. "I'm the unfortunate feminist Oldtimer attached to the tactical genius dragon." At least it seems to amuse her; she laughs, and has moved on to another drink, which gets maybe its second sip taken from it.

Ada chuckles at Shea. "Well, you're not the only Oldtimer, my friend, though I'm not attached to a tactical genius dragon," she offers. "Just a prancy little dancing, don't get sand on me dragon," Ada states, rolling her eyes slightly, though her tone is entirely affection. "K'vv, dance with Ralina," she suggests with a light laugh. "Show her how bad you are, step on her feet, otherwise you'll ruin your reputation."

Trek snorts softly before taking another sip of tequila. "Well, he and Kanyith seem to get along just fine," she states, in regards to Shea's own lifemate. "If it has to do with flying, Ky's all over it."

K'vvan lifts his drink to his lips, only to blink as the weyrling begins to talk to him. Why is she talking to him. Incredulously he turns his gaze on the girl. "There are plenty of people in this room. She can f*king go dance with one of them." He uses his drink to gesture in the direction of anyone else in the room at the moment.

Ralina tosses back her shot without so much as a grimace and signals the barkeep for another. "You're much more handsome before sound comes out of your mouth," she informs K'vv with a fuck you smile. "And a lot funner when you're drowning on your beer." The second shot is delivered and drunk, followed by a happy sigh. She orders a fruity drink and waits for it to be delivered, "Put it on chuckles tab here," she points at K'vv and then casts him a quirky smile before melting back into the crowd.

Ada bites her tongue to refrain from laughing, too hard, at Ralina's commentary. "Let's not drown K'vv, I like Nadeeth, and I'd hate to see her in pain," the greener states with a smirk. "K'vy, your reputation proceeds you, you might want to work on that," the woman states with a wink and shake of her head. She'd continue admonishing her wingmate, it's obvious by the look on her face, but, fortunately for K'vvan, Ada is stolen by A'dan, whom promptly leads the red-head onto the dance floor. It's obvious from the get go that this pairing is a lot more enjoyable to both involved than the one of Ada and K'vvan.

"Oy!" Trek calls over toward K'vvan, complete with a "behave yourself" look, accompanied by a finger point. Manners? She don' need no stinkin' manners, she's the wingleader. She learned that from W'rin.

"Hey! No! Put…." but the girl is gone and K'vvan grinds his teeth together as the bartender makes a mark on his open tab. "F*k…" His response to Ada and the suggestion of what she can go do with herself is cut short as Trek calls out. He eyes his drink, the tab on the bar, and then Trek again, perhaps wondering how far he can push his luck before the wingleader goes ALL W'rin on him. He shudders slightly at the scary thought.

Now where in the world has Arroyo's other wingsecond been this whole time? Likely off doing things he'd rather forget about now; he's here, and that's all that matters. And he cleans up nicely - deep brown trousers descend into well-kept black boots, a matching belt cinched over a crisp white tunic with a sapphire-blue vest worn over that. N'cal is hauling something rather carefully in a dark satchel in one hand, though he enters with an energetic step and a wide grin at the sight of his wingmates spread out through the Inn. "Evening, Arroyo," he announces - perhaps not loud enough for all to hear, but those in his immediate vicinity will. "Sorry I'm late. What have I missed?"

Ralina has learned that in order to make it as a female 'rider this day in age you have to have the right combination. Sweetly innocent and decidedly sassy. Kiss this with a smile if you will. She carries her drink through the partiers and looks around for a table to join. Surely not everyone 'round here is as disagreeable as the man who'd bought her a drink. A much deserved drink if she must think so herself. Huff.

Sara has claimed A'lory for a dance before they separate again, drifting to talk to others. Sara's wine glass is picked up from wherever she had dropped it prior to dancing and she edges her way through the crowd to the side of the weyrling. "Having fun?"

"N'cal!" Trek calls over, quickly waving to her other wingsecond as she gives him a big ol' grin. She glances quickly at Shea, then gestures toward the new arrival. "You know N'cal, right?"

The current song finishes up, and finds Ada and A'dan returning to the bar, one to get another drink, on to get a drink. They part ways, though A'dan is Ada's plus one, they aren't attached at the hip or anything of the like. "Sorry K'vy, that's just not my style," she gives with a wink, commenting on his last statement to her before she got kidnapped for a dance.

Ralina is hovering at the edge of the crowd and looks over when Sara appears at her side. "For the most part I really am," she tells the Harper with a grin. "Scored a free drink and it's delish," she says with a chuckle before taking a sip. The night could certainly be worse. "I'm Ralina," is offered after she swallows the liquid.

Of course it isn't her style. "K'vvan. unless you want me to call you Woman." K'vvan finishes his drink and contemplates another, even as Mayte, on the other side of the bar shakes her head no. But… Another headshakes from his +1 and K'vvan orders a water instead.

Shea, now that the world is not ending offline, has been laughing at Ada's proclamations to K'vvan. And how she seems to actually be making him dance with people, even if perhaps the moment has faded. "He's actually a big fan of most of your blues. And some of your greens." Her drink is almost gone, and so she droops a moment — that, or Cervilaevarth is making her, keep drinking, Shea — but brightens up when N'cal enters the picture. "Oh. Yes. Rider of another one of Cervil's friends." Iolarth's, because that is how she would think of him first, gets a grin.

Ada smirks. "I'll call you what I darn well please, seeing as you act like a total arse anyway it won't make much of a difference," she states shrugging slightly as she takes a generous sip of her drink. "Now, start playing nice with people, and I'll actually call you K'vvan," that said she turns her attention on Shea. "You should go dance, or get drunk, or whatever," the red-head offers with a crooked grin.

"Sara," the harper supplies her name as she leans against the bar, one hand reaching down to absentmindedly touch the fabric as it flows against her skin. "How much longer do you have before you join a wing?" With the weyrlings being adults for the most part, a non-rider finds it difficult to figure out the age of the dragons.

N'cal catches sight of his wingleader's wave, tossing a quick one back her direction before diverting to the bar and sliding his precious cargo across to the man. Something is muttered; the bartender nods, and N'cal gives him a clap on the shoulder before turning back to Trek. "Just adding to the selection," he confides, thumbing back at the bar with a secretive wink before Trek's gesture draws his attention to Shea. He smiles brightly at the other bluerider, inclining his head a bit. "Indeed," he answers with a chuckle. "A pleasure to see you again, Shea. Outside of work, that is."

K'vvan simply grumbles, and pushes away from Ada to wander to the far side of the room. He's just biding time now till it is time for Mayte to go home. At least she is having fun, because, really, that's the reason he brought her.

Ralina keeps an eye on K'vvan's whereabouts hoping that he doesn't track her down for charging her drink to him. Though Sara is offered most of her attention as well as a smile. "Anytime now actually. Igifoth and I are hoping someone will tap us within the next couple seven-days." She sips her drink and glances around at the crowd. "It'll be nice once someone does." Something she's looking forward to for sure.

"to you being tapped," Sara lifts her glass in a slight toast. "Hoping to perhaps be pulled into Arroyo?" She quirks an eyebrow upwards, assuming that is why the weyrling has elected to find an invitation to this particular shindig.

Trek goes on sipping from her glass of tequila, just grinning at N'cal and Shea. "I'd just been thinking… what if Shea, here, and her lovely blue Cervilaevarth, were to join us? I mean… Whirlwind's fine and all, but… well." Yeah, she'd better leave it there.

Ralina lifts her mug in salute when Sara raises her glass. Downing a sip of her drink with a smile. "It had been a thought. K'owuy brought me tonight so I could get to know his wingmates." A thought or a hope. Either way. "I don't know if I would be a very good fit." She doesn't seem to get along entirely well with at least one of the folks in the Wing itself sadly. And it does make her rather sad. "I suppose time will tell where Iggie and I end up. Depends on who wants us I suppose."

A barmaid swings past with a glass of ruby liquid, which N'cal plucks up with a nod of thanks before turning attention first to Trek, then Shea. Ahh, yes. This question being aired had been the goal, had it not? He gives a short hum through the sip of wine he's just taken. "It is, indeed," he agrees on the matter of Whirlwind, "and if it were to happen, it would be quite the gain for Arroyo." He quirks an eyebrow at the Whirlwind bluerider, blue-green eyes dancing with a smie. "I do hope you might consider it. Though, of course, that would take some convincing of our Weyrleader."

Unfortunately, Shea's first instinct comes out of her mouth first, which is: "And take orders from K'vvan?" It's nothing against the two of them at all, but — well. That third member. "I am not sure how well that would go. Though Cervilaevarth doesn't object to Nadeeth, and neither do I — we are not, let's say, the best of friends." On the other hand, she clearly isn't objecting, and looks more intrigued than not. "Your drills were — pleasant, though. Invigorating. Except for that one little detail where the other wingsecond wouldn't approve of me in a century, and the Weyrleader might not — yes, that."

"I'm sure wherever you end up will be a good fit. Other then that one," Sara points at the surly green who is sulking in a corner, "everyone seems very friendly."

"I'm not convinced K'vvan actually has friends," Trek whispers to N'cal and Shea. It might be noted here, she's on her third tequila. With zero food. Details, details. "Oh, piss on our esteemed Wey—." She's cut off there, thank Faranth, by a crash as a couple dancers get a little too into their spins and end up tipping themselves over a chair. Saved by the fall! Trek watches to make sure they're all right, which they seem to be, then she glances toward the innkeeper. No harm/damage, no foul? Seems okay. "I wouldn't mind grabbing that weyrling over there, too," she adds, chin-nodding toward Ralina. A beat. "For the wing, I mean. Of course."

"I certainly hope so," Ralina says in agreement with Sara. She follows the Harpers gesture and then looks back the woman with a shrug of her shoulder. "Where ever I end up I want to know that I can trust my Wing, you know?" And the /he/ in question is not to be trusted in her current opinion. "Most everyone here tonight has been really friendly though. All in all it was a lovely time." She flicks a glance across the crowd once more and sighs. "I'm just not at all sure that guy wouldn't give us an order and get us hurt on purpose." No trust and no love lost there.

Sara looks at the rider in the corner and shrugs just a little. "He's a wingsecond right?" She stands on her tip-toes to stare at K'vvan, making sure that she has his knot right. "As unconventional as Arroyo sounds I doubt they'd put someone likely to be a danger in charge. At least, A'lory hasn't mentioned him as such." And apparently, if the bronze rider hasn't said anything, it must be nothing. "His name is K'vvan right?"

Glancing across the way to spy his fellow wingsecond, N'cal merely gives a shrug in response to Trek's aside. And then she's moving on, and thank Faranth indeed for the crashing dancers, since N'cal might actually have mentioned something about non-Arroyo ears picking that one up. Once it seems all is well, he glances at Shea again. "K'vvan may not be the most…receptive," he speculates; he's only dealt with the man in work situations, "but fortunately, it is not his approval that dictates who is on this wing." Nor is it N'cal's, but that goes without saying. "We would be fortunate to have you, and he would simply have to deal with it." He nods at Trek's suggestion of Ralina, chuckling as she amends her own words. "Of course," he echoes, then takes the more serious bent after another sip of wine. "A solid pair on the weyrling wing, by all accounts. They'd likely do quite well with us."

Shea is not laughing at Trek's misfortune. Really. Really not laughing. "Nadeeth is competent, and K'vvan was always good in the wing, but since the whole possible dead body debacle we don't really get on —" and isn't that a sentence everyone wishes they could throw out on a daily basis. "Which weyrling? Oh." There's a hint of grin splayed across her face again, as she sips her drink in a lazy fashion. "That weyrling. Yes. They're worth cultivating, I'm sure, considering how she Impressed in the first place." Not accepting a spot in the wing and yet helping them pick weyrlings? Someone does not have her mind made up.

"According to his knot," Ralina says with an affirmative tilt of her head. "I've never been actually introduced. But I've overheard his name a lot and yeah that's K'vvan." Just saying his name aloud seems to bring a horrible taste to her mouth the way her lips twist before she downs a sip of her drink. She's not at all sure what has the guy so twisted. The cuter the man the bigger the jerk so far as she can tell. "Igifoth and I have busted our backs to make a name for ourselves in the Weyrling wing." Actually her beloved blue has excelled and drug her along with him. "He loves the Arroyo's. But I'm just not so convinced."

"There'll be a place for you, there always seems to be." Sara nods and looks at the rider for a long moment. "Really, he cannot be too bad. He doesn't like my business partner, and that speaks volumes for a man's taste."

Trek sighs dramatically and shakes her head as she studies the tequila still left in her glass. "It's sad when one sour redfruit is making the whole bushel less appealing. But still," she says, glancing from Shea and N'cal over toward K'vvan. "Maybe we should just settle this." And so, not waiting to see if the other two follow, she heads directly toward the greenrider. "K'vvan! Wingsecond! Quick word." Someone get her an appetizer?

Ralina shrugs her shoulders and manages a smile for Sara. "I'll always be in Trek's debt. So it would be a good wing if it weren't for him." She chuckles softly, "If not for Trek I wouldn't have Impressed Igifoth." And that's a perfectly awesome reason to love the Wingleader isn't it? She'd been caught up in the whole 'wear this and sneak in there' debacle that resulted in her Impression. Rali the rebel. Yup that would be her.

K'vvan's eyes had actually closed as he sat in his dark corner, still only with water in front of him. "Whha…" He snaps his lips shut as the familiar voice of his wingleader calls out his rank in addition to his name. The use seems to suggest a work rather then social question, which even partially drunk K'vvan can totally prefer. The wingsecond and Shea are eyed, "Wingleader." See, she has his attention.

Sara snaps her fingers, "I heard about that. Sadaiya was at the heart of that wasn't she? And Trek too? I never would have guessed." The wine wets Sara's lips again as she follows the progress of the wingleader across the inn. "W'rin doesn't seem like the type…" She says softly, this time clearly to herself.

The chuckle that escapes Ralina is genuine. "Yeah. I wasn't aware of how much trouble it would stir up at the time." She'd sought refuge at here after her parent's deaths and look where it had landed her. "But we're a pair now and thus far we seem to have been accepted. If a tad grudgingly." It helps that she'd unknowingly joined the ranks of the other hard working female riders in the Weyr. She knows it now of course, but day one she hadn't a clue. "My blue is no lightweight when it comes to work and I've learned to more than keep up with him."

Trek tosses back the last of that tequila and leaves the glass on the bar on her way toward K'vvan, where she props herself onto the next chair over. "You've gotta stop bringin' down the wing's reputation with your bad attitude," she instructs. Or… comments, really. Just how drunk are they now? Trek isn't slurring her words, but her native Southern accent is coming through loud and clear. "You're a wingsecond. Act like one," she adds, emphasizing the statement with a light rap of knuckles on the nearest table.

N'cal doesn't move to follow right away, instead hanging back with Shea for a moment as he observes the tossing back of tequila. "Do you happen to know how much either of them have had to drink?" he questions the bluerider as he surveys the other two of Arroyo's leadership. This could be bad; he could have to mediate…but he's also prepared to do so, at least.

"My attitude didn't ever seem to hurt Whirlwind." K'vvan shoots back, shifting in his chair to look upwards at the wingleader. "And you had the bright idea to give me this knot." K'vvan shrugs his shoulder just slightly, letting it flap slightly from where it is tied. No Whirlie party this, where Rank is thrown out the door. "I damn well will do how I please."

"Well," Shea says thoughtfully, chewing on the edge of her lip, "more than me," but just because she was distracted by the fruit. "I actually think Trek's drank more than K'vvan, he was dancing a lot. Hopefully no one dies," at least she is kind enough to omit 'this time' from the end of her sentence, as it was definitely there for a moment. "Oh, and — no, I'm not drunk, he really was dancing."

"It always astounds me at how hard it is for some of they of this time keep their heads in the sand. I wonder when it was that women riders felt out of favor…" Sara taps a finger on the side of her glass, looking at the drama on the other side of the bar as her thoughts twist away.

Trek leans close enough to K'vvan that he can probably smell a faint hint of the tequila she'd been drinking. "Whirlwind never would have given you that knot," she replies, voice suddenly low and just possibly a little threatening. It's amazing what a loss of inhibition can do for some people. "If how you please means bringing down this wing, I will toss you out in a heartbeat," she continues, her hand going for that knot he so casually mentions.

"I don't know when that happened," Ralina admits the obvious. "Long before my time. But apparently it wasn't always so. I've met quite a few Oldtime 'riders since I joined the ranks. And those women are who I look up to. Tough as stone I'm telling you." She follows Sara's gaze to the drama and her eyes widen slightly. "Oh boy," she breathes, "that doesn't look at all good." The last of her free drink is downed in a gulp and she sets her mug on the bar.

K'vvan scoots backwards and slowly rises. A hint of ice has formed around his heart- his job wasn't done in Arroyo yet. His hand rises to cover that knot on his shoulder. He lowers his voice to a mutter, his green eyes fixed on Trek.

You overhear K'vvan mutter, "… … me to … to … … while … … I … … well. I have done everything you … … … more. … … behavior while … … … anything … warrant us losing … …" to Trek.

(K'vvan mutters "You asked me to come to a party while knowing that I don't socialize well. I have done everything you have asked…. and more. Has our behavior while we work done anything to warrant us losing our place?" to Trek.)

N'cal's eyebrows quirk upwards at the bit about K'vvan dancing. "That would've been a sight," he remarks, taking another drink as he continues watching the confrontation. But then Trek is leaning in toward the greenrider, and N'cal straightens, setting down his wine glass. "Oh, shells and shards," he mutters, asiding an "if you'll excuse me" to Shea before striding over to the rest of Arroyo's leadership. "Trek. K'vvan." He touches Trek's shoulder briefly, she being the closer of the two. "Not here, in front of your wing, while drinks have been had. Please." His voice is not confrontational, but quietly firm as he glances between them.

Trek also gets to her feet, all hint of her previous good mood now gone. "So you do care about it," she replies in a hard voice, gaze going to that now protected knot. "Then as I said, act like it." No mutters from her. "Did I tell you to come here, knowing it might be difficult? Yes. Because, guess what, K'vvan, we don't get the easy choices anymore," she continues. She doesn't raise her voice, but those near enough would be able to hear it all. "I gave you a chance to prove you're more than what people have been telling you your whole riding career. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you're only your dragon's lifemate, and nothing more." Her hazel eyes catch his green, gaze holding steady. Maybe it was watered down tequila. Or maybe she's too used to it. It's then, she notices N'cal's presence, his words just starting to sink in. A faint flush begins to color her cheeks, though from anger or embarrassment, either would be likely. She swallows hard, then moves at a steady (and non-wavering) pace for the door, past the two bewildered bouncers.

"I know what you mean. Several of my friends from the hall went when search came around." Sara's eyes leave the wingleaders just long enough for her to point out towards Sadaiya where she is having fun. "The weyrwoman being the current example."

It would figure that the moment Mayte wanders off to chat with some Arroyo wingriders (alright, she got caught up in it), K'vvan probably says something to offend someone. Given the hush from the corner where she left him, it's pretty much guaranteed, so Mayte hastens over in time to hear Trek's words. Facepalm time. Arroyo's wingleader is making her way out, so Mayte is free to turn Disappointed Look on K'vvan. We were having such a nice time. Arms crossed over her chest, Mayte ony asks before anyone else does, "What did you say?" As noted, pretty much guaranteed.

Ralina watches Trek stalk out the door and blinks a couple times to be sure she just witnessed that. Then Sara is mentioning another of the women that Rali looks up to and she's turning to look over at the Weyrwoman. "I stayed with her for nearly a moon. Incredibly wonderful woman," Rali says of Sadaiya. She chuckles finally and glances at Sara. "I haven't met all the jumpers yet. But the ones I have sure know how to keep things interesting." She contemplates another drink and decides against it. "It's starting to get late and Iggie and I have quite a schedule to get through tomorrow." She smiles at Sara fully now. "It's been wonderful talking with you. I sure hope I run into you again sometime." That said she approaches the exit at a much more cautious stroll than Trek had.

N'cal's intervention is probably welcome as K'vvn had opened his mouth to respond, and shuts it again. Though the party still continues elsewhere in the bar as the Harpers continue to play, in this corner all eyes and ears had settled on the pair. "Sharding woman…" K'vvan mutters before Mayte is there and looking DISAPPROVING. "I didn't for once!" K'vvan says a bit defensivly, "Look, I need to… just, please keep having fun. I'll be back." He looks firmly at the vintner, "PLEASE don't go anywhere or your journeywoman is going to skin me alive. N'cal, keep an eye on her I have to…" And with that vague direction K'vvan takes off after Trek, stepping through the doorway and closing it with a firm click behind him.

Silence, from Shea — an unusual event, for sure, but for once she is actually left with absolutely no words whatsoever. She's just holding that drink glass in her hand, watching everything in front of her unfold. And gnawing at her lip, a little bit, and sincerely hoping that that explosion wasn't her fault. As K'vvan and Trek go, she just hovers next to N'cal and eventually says to the bluerider, "Er. I hope I didn't —"

Mayte watches K'vvan move by her, jaw dropping. Wouldn't it just figure? "I do not need a nanny!" She says loudly at K'vvan's retreating back with a vaguely rebellious look in N'cal's direction. Hi. Grousing, the young woman does comment, "At least he said he'd come back this time." That ends with a roll of the eyes, and Mayte eyes N'cal, the new nanny, "Wanna drink, at least?" Mayte is much more fun to sit than children, for that precise reason.

Outside the inn, Trek hasn't gone far. In fact, she's only just cleared the door before moving left to lean against the wall, while her dark lifemate watches from well across the way, his eyes whirling quickly in colors of concerned yellow and orange. She might be breathing out some sort of curse as K'vvan closes that door behind him, but she cuts off almost immediately, instead watching as Ralina and Igifoth take their leave.

That Trek steps out is a relief; N'cal will talk to her later, of course. Once she's gotten at least some of that tequila out of her system. The bluerider looks to K'vvan, who is suddenly with company…whom N'cal is abruptly being requested to watch over, and the greenrider is leaving. Shardit. "Oh, Faranth," he breathes, shoving an agitated hand through his shock of well-groomed dark blonde hair as he watches K'vvan leave. "Don't do anything stupid!" is his entreaty called after the greenrider, and then he finds Shea near him again as well. "No, no," assures her. "Not your fault at all." He glances down at Mayte. She certainly doesn't look so young as to need watching. "It would be much appreciated, actually," he concedes with a huff to the offer of a drink. "Would it be a good red, by any chance?"

Outside the inn, K'vvan waits till the weyrling is far away before he turns to face the wingleader, keeping his voice low just in case those inside decide to press their ears against the door to catch hasty words between wingleader and second. "I don't get it. I don't get you. Either this knot makes sense on my shoulder and you trust me to work outside of these stupid parties or my breaking my back outside of this nonsense doesn't mean a thing." Drink makes his own tongue looser than normal as he crosses his arms across his chest to just stare at the Wingleader. "I sure as hell don't want to leave, and Nadeeth doesn't deserve to get kicked out."

Mayte is watching the door for a moment too. But Trek is supercool, and K'vvan is… well, she doesn't think anything untoward is going to happen, so Mayte deliberately turns towards the bar. N'cal gets a haughty sniff, "Does a vintner ever go anywhere without her own brew?" The answer, in case anyone was wondering, is laughter, knee-slapping, and hearty 'no'. Mayte stalks to the bar, taps it officiously, and gets two glasses of water. The bartender doesn't need to know why, so Mayte brings them to the closest table to N'cal, takes a sip of the water, then tosses the liquid in both glasses into an empty tankard that was so conveniently placed nearby. Then refills them with a dark wine-red liquid from the convenient wineskin on her person. A glass is handed to N'cal: "You look like you need it, sir."

Oh, man, did Tuli just miss The Drama? She has the worst timing. Goldrider incoming, anyway: with her hair up in twists, and in trousers, so you know she means newfangled Oldtimer business. The leggy young woman pauses at the doorway to observe, her dark eyes scanning the room for any familiar faces. And then, a side mission is undertaken: to go and get herself some booze.

Outside the inn, Trek tries not to look at K'vvan, even though she knows he's there. Even after he begins speaking. It's not until he finishes that Trek straights from the wall, and when she turns toward him, there are unshed tears in her eyes. Because this confrontation wasn't awkward enough yet, apparently. She doesn't look sad, though, just pissed as hell. Her jaw works a couple times before she dares open her mouth to reply, while across the way, Kanyith lets out a low, rumbling hum. "I thought it would be enough," she answers, voice tight as she fights to keep the tears at bay. "Then people died. They sharding DIED, K'vvan!" Her fists are white-knuckled at her sides, and the first tear spills over as she yells. She has to stop to take a breath, and when she continues, her voice has subsided to something just above a whisper. "And it's my sharding fault. Just like everyone said would happen. So maybe I do need you to be more. Because I need to know there will be people to keep this wing going if I … if I can't."

For just a moment, raised voices from outside can be heard through the closed door, but they quickly fade.

Outside the inn: Oh shards… If K'vvan has one weakness, it is when females cry. He really cannot stand it. As Trek unloads on him he takes a step backwards then forcing iron into his inebriated spine stops the backward momentum and steps forward instead. "It kills me that people died. But that," K'vvan waves a hand at the doorway to the inn, still keeping his voice low, "that is how I cope. None of us can fall apart, none of us. No mater how f*king much I want to. Nadeeth and I… we're screwed up. You can't put the weight of the wing on us. We'll break. You," K'vvan steps another step closer, eying those rolls fists with a tad bit of wariness, "are here with a damn party and making sure everyone gets at least one smile before we have to f*king do it again. That is why you're the wingleader. Even W'rin probably knows it by now." K'vvan finally shuts his mouth on his long winded diatribe, not entirely sure if he made his point.

Sara! A Harper! Suddenly abandoned by her drinking mate has found herself alone again in the party. A'lory has found himself a corner and Sara is lothe to draw him away when he seems to have fun. But look! A newcomer! "Weyrwoman!" Sara calls out to the woman who surely needs a drinking body, "I'll buy you a drink!"

Outside the inn, Trek is fighting so sharding hard to keep her emotions in check. She's not inebriated, whatever others might be assuming, but she's had enough to make said emotions really hard to handle. Her jaw clenches while she fights back tears, finally giving in and just scrubbing them away with a sleeve. "Seriously, stop saying that word in my presence, or I'll send you right back to W'rin," she mutters, voice now a little scratchy. "It's unprofessional. As is my sharding crying like a bloody girl." She sucks in a deep breath and shakes out her hair, tears gone, even if her cheeks are a little blotchy. She considers K'vvan for a long moment, then looks toward Kanyith. Finally, she takes another deep breath, this one a little more relaxed, while she rubs at the splotches. "I guess it's good there are two wingseconds," she adds, not explaining as she turns as if to head back into the Oasis Inn.

In spite of the Drama, N'cal manages a chuckle at Mayte. "Ah. Shame on me for not knowing better, as my sister does that same," he tells the Vintner, gratefully accepting the offered glass to replace the one he left across the room. "And no need to 'sir' me; this is a party, after all. N'cal," he introduces himself with a bright smile. He takes a sip of the wine, looking thoughtful as he considers it, and nods approval. "Very nice," is his verdict. "Full, good aroma, pleasant aftertaste." Someone who's picky about his wine, perhaps? "I'll have to come by your shop sometime, if this is any indication. Your name, my lady?" he inquires amiably, taking another sip.

Outside the inn, K'vvan bites back the hasty word on his lips and reaches out to touch Trek's arm- lightly, and he pulls back the moment she gives him her attention. "Do you think I can do this or not? I can't just… change who I am, or how I cope with all of this dunghill. I can and if you will allow it, will shut up. If you don't trust us then take this back now, but," reaching up he detaches the knot on his shoulder, "don't make us leave. Arroyo is exactly where Nadeeth and I fit. We would have died in the fall in any other wing because we were trying to be something we simply aren't.

Mayte grins mischievously, "Your sister is of Vintner as well?" Pern is getting smaller every day, "Perhaps I knew her at the Crafthall." Anyways, more than that gets interrupted, Mayte raising her glass in salute, then, "N'cal. Well-met." Mayte listens to the recitation, though she does turn her head briefly upon spotting Tuli approaching the bar. She does come back to nod encouragingly, "We're just along the side-street, and our selection is a wonderful blend." A brief smirk passes over Mayte's face but she's happy to reply, "Senior Apprentice Mayte, si… N'cal." The noise from outside is ignored momentarily, "If you don't mind, who do you ride?"

Outside the inn, Trek stops at the touch and glances back at K'vvan, then at the knot he's in the process of detaching. She lets out a pent breath and shakes her head. "Keep it. N'cal was right. This wasn't the time or place to talk about any of it." She looks toward the door for a long moment, looking as if she dreads walking through it again. "I've never asked anyone, rider or dragon, to change who they are. Who they truly are," she says, a mild emphasis on "truly". She looks back at him again, though, expression hard to read. "Your behavior and attitude aren't who you are, K'vvan. They're actions. All of us are in control of those, if we're brave enough to be. I've asked you to act like a wingsecond, because I'm the one trying to act like a wingleader. Do you think I wanted this?" she asks, yanking at her own knot, though it stays firmly in place. "I'm not a sharding leader, but I know how to act like one. I have intelligence and skill, and I'm willing to use those to better the wing and the Weyr, to better the protection we can offer. And that's all I'm asking of you." She leaves it there and heads for the door, steeling herself a moment with her hand on the door handle before she walks back in.

A nice, hearty dose of beer is acquired. Truly, the dinner of CHAMPIONS. Thus armed, Tuli takes Mayte's glance her way as permission to drift closer. She's not butting into the conversation - yet. She's just lurking there, in the background, half an eye on the door and its promising hints of raised voices. Don't mind her, she's just Creeper!Tuli.

Outside the inn, "If this isn't the time or place then come find me when it is." K'vvan crosses his arms across his chest and meets Trek's gaze. His fist curls around the knot in his hand, "If you don't trust me to be professional when it matters, then this conversation isn't done." K'vvan turns away into the slightly cooler night, and walks away from Trek to collect his own thoughts before going back in.

The door opens, and a slightly more collected, and much cooler Trek reenters. She hovers a moment as she closes the door behind her, face an expressionless mask. Then she makes her way back toward the folks at the bar and clears her throat lightly. "My apologies to all of you," she utters, voice a tiny bit scratchy, but not unintelligible. She stands there a moment longer as if she might say more, but then sits on a barstool and requests water with lemon.

N'cal nods at Mayte's inquiry, smiling with eyes alone as he continues nursing at his glass. "It's quite possible, though she also may have gone before you were there, Senior Apprentice Mayte. Well met." Then he nearly literally facepalms, settling for a palm to the forehead as he receives a mental scolding. "Oh, I'm remiss from several angles," he laughs, eying his glass with mock suspicion. "Just how strong is this? At any rate, I belong to blue Iolarth. Who is quite pointedly reminding me so." Tuli's approach is then noted, and the bluerider ticks off a salute. "Good evening, ma'am," he greets with an inclination of his head. "It's a pleasure to see you here." Trek return is noted with a weighing look, but he doesn't make a move to where she is just yet. Give it a moment.

Shea glances to Tuli and gives her a respectful nod — a salute for one who does not have her hands full with fruit and drink — before returning to watching Mayte and N'cal's exchange. That is, until Trek re-enters, and if the wingsecond isn't going to walk straight over to her (and even if he were), Shea is. In part it's because her drink is mostly gone, and in another it's so she can get close enough to ask, "You okay?" in a tone that is all friendly, and none of it wing-business or rank-respectful at all.

Trek takes a very slow, very measured breath after thanking the bartender for her water. She takes a sip, then glances at Shea as she draws near. Her answering smile is too quick, and doesn't quite reach eyes that are a little redder than before, cheeks just a wee bit blotchy. What she answers, though, is, "I'm fine," her tone one of those "brook no argument" varieties. She says she's fine, so she's fine. Dong ma? After another quicker breath, though, the smile turns a little more natural, and that tone softens. "I'm really sorry you all had to see that. I shouldn't have … Well. Anyway." It's almost a sheepish look she sends in Tuli's direction, then in N'cal and Mayte's. Her solution is to drink more water.

Mayte snickers slightly, confessing, "It's… a bit more fortified than my usual blends." A finger across her lips to indicate 'shh' and a wicked look, and the vintner moves to ahh, "Iolarth. I don't think I've heard much of him though," there's a cheeky grin, "He sounds like a character." Tuli's approach get a respectably respectful nod, but gets pulled away by the sight of Trek returning. Let's see, it's Mayte's date who brought her here, and Mayte's date who made her cry… Nope, no one explained what to do in this case. So Mayte sips her wine and tries to look comfortable. And smile sheepishly in return at Trek.

Sara is about to call out again as her voice is lost in the chatter of the party when A'lory slips up behind her, his sneaky skills very much still in evidence. Rather then call out Sara looks upwards at her curlyhaired weyrmate as he mutters into her ear. A smile breaks out upon her face and she nods once, setting her wine glass on the bar beside her. With a wave towards Mayte and anyone else the harper and bronze rider leave the party together.

"Thought I'd pop in and show support for my favorite wing," booms Tuli, robustly. Poor Mirage, always the boring bridesmaid, never the trouble-causing bride :( "And," because Mayte is here, "its supporters." She shoots Sara a faintly amused look, having missed her offer earlier, but is satisfied to merely wave goodbye at her. The goldrider takes a little care in her choice of seating: not quuuuuite in the group, carefully background'd, but close enough for comfortable conversation. A single eyebrow is lifted at Trek, but Tuli makes no inquiries, just flashes a quicksilver smile at the other woman.

Minutes later K'vvan enters the Inn behind the wingleader. Unlike Trek there is no visible signs of their brief talk outside. Instead he is oddly pensive and his lips are a straight line. He takes a look around the room and then approaches Mayte, "Do you want to dance?" Abrupt is the offer, and he looks down at the floor between them rather then at the apprentice Vintner.

Whatever mischief Vashae herself was up to until now after earlier, she rejoins the remainder of her wingmates, their friends, and Tuli at the bar. "Ma'am." That's to Tuli, since she's said hello to just about everyone else a time or two by now. After a quiet request to the bartender, her glass is traded for something different, and she'll focus her attention, for the moment at least, on N'cal and Mayte. "Should I worry, or are you two up to nothing in particular?" It's a gently intended tease, though when K'vvan comes in she eyes him out of the corner of an eye for a second. But only for that long, and then she busies herself with taking a sip from her glass.

Trek winces just a little bit at Tuli's pronouncement. Great, now she's not just failing her wing, she's failing the weyrwoman's favorite wing. She'll just… down the rest of that water, very nearly swallowing the slim slice of lemon, too. Disaster averted, she pushes the glass away and gets to her feet again, just in time to see K'vvan's entrance. See? They're fine. Everyone's fine. Except for the part where K'vvan is asking Mayte to dance. That manages to bring a small smile to her face, and no, she is not about to cry. Not at all. She's just nodding to the wingsecond, 'cause that's what you do.

"It is much appreciated, ma'am," N'cal returns to Tuli with a smile before giving a nod to Mayte. "Iolarth and I have only been around since the start of summer, so no, we wouldn't be as well known as others." Then back comes K'vvan, and the bluerider gives his fellow wingsecond a quick study before his gaze is pulled away to the approach of another - Vashae, this time, to whom he smiles and inclines his head. "All right?" is his short question to K'vvan's state, before the greenrider asks Mayte to dance, and then his attention is given over to Vashae once again. "Worry?" he counters, smirking at her tease. "Whyever for?" The smirk widens, and he gives a light chuckle. "Good evening, Vashae. It's good to see you here."

Mayte is in the middle of a little conversation with N'cal, raising her glass in salute to Tuli's acknowledgement with a grin. An overly innocent look to Vashae, "Us? Up to something?" Darnit, the blue-rider's got her pegged! She's nodding in response to N'cal but K'vvan's re-entry is enough cause for hush, though as usual, it doesn't stop the glass from rising to her lips. So when K'vvan asks her to dance, Mayte has the option of spitting her mouthful out, swallowing it maturely, or choking on it. Let's take door number 3: Mayte is so surprised that she tries to swallow and breathe at the same time, a sure recipe for disaster. Still, she tries: "You…'d like to dance?" Still, Mayte's nodding, if that counts for anything.

Another greeting in her direction, and Tuli has a dutiful nod and flickered smile in return for Vashae before her attention shifts. She's not the near mystical observer her dragon is, but she SAW that wince, Trek. She saw that, and she… says nothing, just gives the woman a smile with just the faiiiiintest hint of 'bracing' to it. "Get you a drink, Wingleader?" the woman offers. "By the way - I set a few of the canines hunting down in Southern. Amongst the records, I mean, to see about desert-friendly straps. Thought I'd better mention."

Yes, yes, yes, K'vvan is acting out of character. He shoots a look at the wingleader, see?, it seems to say before he turns back to the vintner. "Yeah. Unless you're having fun, then I'll just, I mean… when you're ready to go, it's almost time." Her surprise seems to kill his vague attempt to do party-like things and he tuns to step away, misinterpreting the nodding of her head.

Trek does see, K'vvan. And she's smiling. See? Smile. Her attention quickly shifts to Tuli, then she laughs softly. Improvement! "That's fabulous news, thank you so much for doing that, ma'am!" Trek replies before nodding, regarding a drink. She glances toward one of the bartenders, then grins as he already knows what she's going to request. Tequila #4, please. It's soon filled, so she brings her glass on over. "Glad you could come enjoy our little shindig. The harpers have been doing their very best to keep us entertained and out of trouble."

Mayte calms her coughing down enough to say, "Dancing… is fun." Still getting her breath there. K'vvan's already turning away, but Mayte reaches to grab the greenrider's wrist, letting go as soon as he's paying attention. Boy cooties. "One dance." A quick, curious look over at Trek in time to see her smile, and Mayte nods, "Then we can go." If the Vintner had a watch, she'd be ignoring it right now. The glass is left, half-full (or empty) in front of N'cal with an, "If you'll excuse me," so K'vvan can go sweep Mayte off her feet. Or so the theory goes.

A smile plays freely on Vashae's lips at N'cal and Mayte's answers to her comment, and she winks at the both of them. "I thought as much." It's as equally teasing a comment as the last, but her attention turns back to N'cal when Mayte's seemed to accept K'vvan's request to dance. If only after shooting Mayte upraised eyebrows of approval. "It is. A good evening, I mean. Isn't it? Despite." A hand is waggled vaguely. "I didn't run into you earlier, but it's nice to see you here now." Look at Vash, flirting in her own subtle way. "How has your night been?" While she waits for an answer from him, her eyes survey the room briefly; before returning to him once more. Always a good idea to keep an eye on your surroundings.

"No need to thank me. I dunno that they'll find anything." See the thing about stolen records is, they had to be smuggled, so they're often incomplete. "But it's worth a shot, right?" Tuli seems pleased to have given Trek something to be cheerful about - once the tequila is acquired, lifts her mug in a hearty toast. "To progress! Messy though it might be."

Wwwwaaaiiittt. Mayte is reaching out and touching and K'vvan stops pulling away. She said yes? There is confusion there for a long moment before K'vvan takes her hand in his and pulls her out onto the dance floor. They aren't touching love-bird like, but he's much closer to the vintner then he has been to any of the others this night. "Sorry about ruining your night like that, but everything is fine."

"To progress," Trek replies with a soft chuckle before she sips her tequila. "If there's nothing in the records, I guess we'll just have to figure it out all over again," she then adds, shrugging a shoulder. "No worse off. Thank you for trying, though. She considers her drink for a moment, then glances around, smiling again as she spots K'vvan and Mayte. It's an introspective sort of smile. "Progress indeed." She sips a bit more of the tequila, but as there isn't much in any given glass, it's nearly gone. Again. "I think I'm going to try to fit in another dance, if I can talk anyone into it." If K'vvan could, she can, right?

Sitting near the bar for the last several hours is Ada, who's smirking in a somewhat drunken state, at K'vy dancing, again. Yay! Wait, does that mean she has to call him… K'vvan now. She did say she'd call him that if he played nice.

"Mayte," N'cal bids the Vintner farewell with a smile and a sweep of a hand. He relocates her discarded glass further off to the side as he watches Trek make her way over. Amusement colors his expression as he listens to Vashae, and he sets down his own wine and clasps his hands at his back. "Despite?" he questions curiously, and then he chuckles, dipping his head slightly. "Well, I do apologize for not being available to be run into earlier," he says. "And as for my night…it hasn't been dull, I'll say that. Even improved a touch, just recently, in fact." An eyebrow quirks at the other bluerider, a blue-green gaze regarding her steadily.

"Heh, you'll have to leave me out of dancing. I'm wearing proper boots." Big heavy Farmcrafter ones. They're dirty, too. Did Tuli walk here? She must have. There's no giant gold beast out in the courtyard. "Cheers, Wingleader." Beer in hand, Tuli takes the opportunity to slip into the milling crowd, eventually settling into a quiet conversation in the corner. A+ at parties!

Mayte is down with dancing, content to move close, but not entirely against K'vvan. "You didn't ruin my night," she's happy enough to say, "Though I was a little worried when you left." At least she can tell Eollyn he came back, right? The two are still dancing and talking a good while later, when Mayte looks outside and erks, whispering something urgently to K'vvan about 'being home soon' and 'Eollyn will…' and there's possibly mention of being strung up by something painful.

Trek joins Vashae and N'cal. Bluerider conference! Or not really. "I like the word 'improved'," she comments, having just caught the tail end of N'cal's statement. She waves quickly to Ada, then sips back the last of her tequila. "I don't suppose any of you would be up for a dance, would you? Figured I'd try to fit in at least one more, while the Harpers are still being so agreeable with us."

Vashae's lips curl in a small smile at N'cal, though around this many people smiles aren't unusual. All part of the disguise, after all. "It was an observation, not a criticism," she notes with a tinge of amusement coloring her tone, sidestepping his question easily. Possibly even deliberately, if only to brush it aside from their minds. His comment earns another small smile though, and she tilts her head to the side impishly. "Your night is so easily improved, N'cal." A grin slips across her face, to make clear that she's still simply teasing him. Eyes stray briefly to Mayte and K'vvan dancing, as well as the few others there are dancing. Trek gets a brief grin from the younger woman. "Improved is always good," she agrees. "I wonder how many group dances still exist that we'd know." Cue another grin, though this time at Trek.

"And without more than one glass of wine in me," N'cal observes with feigned matter-of-factness. "However was that managed?" He slips a wink at Vashae before turning his attention to Trek, though Vashae's comment about group dances gets him thinking. "I can't say I'm all that familiar with group dances," he comments. Then he extends a hand to his wingleader. "However, I would gladly share a dance with you Trek, if a group dance is not forthcoming. And then, if I might be allowed," he says, a warmed blue-green gaze turned on Vashae once more, "I'll return and ask one of you, Vashae."

Ada fingerwaggles at Trek and flashes a smile towards the other blues she's gathered with before turning her eyes back out on the dance floor. It appears as though all of her plus ones have left her, and that pesky prickly greenrider whom she adores to taunt has also left, thus only leaving people she likes, or generally likes. Ehh, another drink is ordered, all the same before chuckling. "I'm sure someone here will dance with you, Trek," she gives, her speech slightly slurred.

"That's a good question," Trek replies to Vashae, grinning crookedly. "Is Sara still here? Maybe she'd … know." But she apparently left while Trek was chin deep in her glass of water earlier. She all but beams at N'cal, and without a single word of apology to Vashae, or a reply to Ada, she grabs her wingsecond's hand and heads toward the dancing area. For the rest of the evening Royos drink, Harpers play, and dancers dance. It's certainly a profitable night for the Oasis Inn, and for a wonder, no punches were thrown. Or pulled. It's a working equilibrium. Just like Arroyo.

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