Who

Clementine, Lisette, Loe, T'zaim, K'lir, Bailey, K'ane, Rhysan, Vi, Ione, Hannah, Sa'mael, El'ai, Niklaas, R'ik, Cha'el, Isolde, Rue, T'ral

What

Southern's attempt to turn things around and lighten the mood ends in a brawl with accusations, booty and a map.

Note: There are SO many characters in this scene, I'm just going to let you all add yourselves and do your own icons. I'm lazy, it's true.

When

It is evening of the nineteenth day of the fourth month of the seventh turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Waterfall, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 05 Mar 2016 05:00

 

Lis19%281%29.png clem8.png loe_default.jpg t-zaim_default.jpg wtf.png k-ane_default.jpg bailey_default.jpg rhysan_default.jpg vi_default.jpg ione_default.jpg 20.jpg 39.gif 13.gif 70.png r-ik_default.jpg cha-el_default.jpg isolde_default.jpg rue_default.jpg t-ral_default.jpg

"T'ral!" he barks. "Get those women th' fuck away from that boat!" Unless they are being helpful, but you know.


waterfall.jpg

Waterfall

The lush Southern rainforests hide snake-like rivers that wind through the thickest part of the underbrush; it is one such river that provides a view that must be seen once in a lifetime. Powerful, the waters spill over the edges of the cliffs, falling from high, high above to land in a large swell of water that feeds into the Black Rock River. On a sunny day, a kaleidescope of colors can be seen as the light of Rukbat is refracted in a rainbow array of vibrant hues. At the base of the waterfall, where even a dragon would feel dwarfed by the towering cliffs and thick plume of falling water, the swell of water is surrounded by greenery of all kinds: trees, flowers, ferns, moss, lichen. As the point where the waterway narrows into a feeder stream to the larger, Black Rock River, a tiny little bridge spans. All around, water roars, eclipsing even the sounds of wildlife.


The party kicks off in the late afternoon, treading towards evening with the rays of daylight creating a brilliant sunset in the backdrop. The weather today has been pleasent for Autumn and higher in temperature than would be normal. Much like the cook out that was held down by the river ages ago, there's a barn fire going and the smell of delicious food permeating the air. And is that Ardstelle? Yes? AWESOME. Also, note that we're not at the actual river this time. Just in case a ship decides to go rogue and crash into everything again. There are quite a few people here already, mingling and doing what people do at parties.

ARDSTELLE, YOU STILL LOVE US! So says the broad grin coming from the brownriding Weyrsecond when he claps eyes on the woman. In fact, he might just go over there and give her a big ole bear hug, lifting the woman briefly up off the ground. A few words are exchanged and then Cha'el wanders off toward the bonfire but not before pilfering a tasty treat. And where is his weyrmate and twin darlings? Sadly, home with cold brought on by autumn's mercurial ways.

A ship delivering itself to T'ral would be mighty handy, actually. So… well. Maybe there's hope for one falling over the waterfall? No? Okay. T'ral arrives in a suit of charcoal gray, ascot in pale lavender — a nod to his weyrmate, perhaps? She is not present — black pauldron on his shoulder, straps centering a small metal disc over his chest with Lynx's badge inscribed. He lifts his head, scenting like a hound, drawn towards the long absent smells of decadence. It's a VTOL to a bonfire. And, coincidentally, the bonfire's there too. Cozy.

You know what makes a grey day better? Delicious food! And what's better at soothing the minds of the weyr than getting stuffed with Ardsetelle's delicious bar-b-cue recipe? Nothing! Although, she's handing out smaller portions than she normally would (someone is giving her the stink eye for this) and mentioning, "This is just a sample!" Which is a normal sized portion. "I've got something brewing that will soon amaze you!" However, Hannah turns away from the woman's hard sells with a plate full of unhealthy food and nearly trips over a rock. "Dammit," the Weyrwoman hisses. "Oh, Cha'el!" The woman tries to wave the Weyrsecond down, but hey, is her attention distracted by… T'ral? Or is she looking for someone in particular? Because those roving eyes suggest that very thing. That she's looking for someONE.

Oh… he's probably dead.

Or she.

El'ai isn't hanging out here for fun, not really. Tension is held in his impish face, and a seriousness not often found in those glacial blue eyes is echo'd back as he murmurs to a nearby Ocelot. He's not even eating - for shame! He does tip his head to the skies, briefly, before angling to mingle - kind of. If mingling leads a man along the edge where the water falls into the natural pool before spilling out into the river itself, further down the line.

Weyr arrest. Since no one bothered to draw lines in the dirt defining the exact boundaries of where he may or may not go, there's a certain jet-haired bronzerider skulking along the periphery of the celebration. The waterfall totally counts as part of 'where he may go', right? Considering the way he steps into view with hands in pockets and stubbled jaw set with determination, R'ik seems to think so at any rate. With his pale gaze pinpointing his tiny weyrmate-to-be, he alters course and heads straight for her, drawing up beside her to squint at the brownrider whose attention she's trying to capture. "That better not be for him." Because his woman feeding another male? So not on. "You look pretty tonight." Doesn't she every night?

Where are nearly all of the Weyr's leadership? At a party, apparently, which is why K'lir is there as well. Unfortunately he is unaccompanied as his weyrmate still has Infirmary duty though hopefully she'll join him later on. Either way, he'll ply Ardstelle for a basket of goodies to take back to Arianne. Of course, the food draws the amber-eyed man like a hound and he's soon munching happily on anything the servers offer him. It has FLAVOR!

When Rue eventually emerges from the crowd of mostly-taller people she's close to the bonfire, juggling a plate heaped with food, a carelessly (her own fault) overfilled glass and her riding jacket, which she's trying hard to protect from the depredations of the former. Rue's not terribly well known for partying, but there's good food and things have kind of sucked lately, so voila.

Lisette doesn't turn down food. Even if it means the last time she was at one of these places she nearly got crushed by a boot. So for now, she'll follow along behind Ardstelle stealing the tiny samples off of her plate whenever the woman isn't looking. Delicious! "Where's El'ai?" She hasn't seen him yet, apparently. But there are lots of people hanging around!

"No," Hannah draws her plate of yummies closer to her chest, and gives R'ik the 'lol dude you didn't just' look that a woman has for a man making assumptions. It's threaded with humor and something else: something undefined. But that's for later. "It's for me." She winks, a somewhat forced cheer since the bronzerider has been ARRESTED (wtf Johannes). "K'lir!" she calls out quickly, "You better take some of this back to Arianne! And to poor J'ran!" Infirmary food sucks. Back to R'ik, "You look dashing!" Of course a touch of blush stains her cheeks, but then she's also noting some of the other arrivals. "You wanna try this… that woman," Ardstelle, "is amazing." Helpful advice for the passing Rue.

Clementine is doing her best to look cheerful. Even if the last couple of days haven't exactly brought about great news. R'ik being arrested? Awesome. But Hannah can manage to look happy, she can too. After all, it's not her weyrmate. She keeps to the edges of the party, mingling with a guest here and there while she drinks a beer that she holds close to her chest. At the moment, she's not occupied by anyone or anything particular.

El'ai is faring worse than Hannah in the whole 'fake it until you make it' happiness problem. So he's otherwise engaged except to lift a hand in greeting to folks. T'ral, T'ral; fellow Wingleader. Cha'el gets the EYE (hey, he's not letting on he found a weyr) and a 'you and me' buddy in a very much joking way, and then K'lir is given a nod before he brushes past Rue with a murmured, "Excuse me," to head off to where he got a glimpse of Lisette.

Cha'el, spotting his colleague, arrows a path toward K'lir and claps him on the back with a grin. "Off the leash too, huh?" Hopefully no one reports that back to Ksenia. "Oh, Hannah." Smile! He spots the bronzerider at her side and narrows her eyes slightly. No greeting for R'ik the prick.

T'ral inclines his head to Hannah, recognizing the chin-up look of scanning the crowd. He turns to crane and send his gaze where she's looking, using the advantage of height to scan more. "I think he just arrived." T'ral inclines his head to the both and moves away from R'ik the Recidivist skulks their way. The bluerider, for no good reason, seems more interested in the temporary structures erected than mingling. To no one in particular, El'ai maybe. Or Rue. Or Cha'el! "How long you think this took to set up?" He reaches out and gives the upright column a shake. "You, Sir." Cha'el. "You were a sea crafter. Mind if I bend your ear?"

Why is Sa'mael at this party? He's not the party type, but he's the 'hunt a best friend' type - or rather, he's probably here to catch a moment with R'ik. "Damn, this is fucking amazing." Or to eat. He's wearing casual, baggy shit that you'd wear to an outdoor bar-b-cue. The medallion hanging off his chain-and-leather bracelet catches the light when he raises up a chicken leg for feasting.

R'ik will have to leech false humour from Hannah since he's fresh out himself and he does so with an unconvincing tilt of mouth. "But you're gonna share, yeah?" Sharing is caring, Hannah! Okay so maybe that forced turn of mouth tilts to a slightly more genuine line at the compliment joined by that pretty blush only to scowl at the Weyrsecond eyeing him. Cue the mental middle finger. Until a familiar voice catches his attention. His pale gaze swings toward Sa'mael and then with a, "Be right back," aimed at Hannah, scoops up two glasses of whatever booze is close at hand and falls in with Sa'mael.

K'lir glances around when he hears his name and grins at the sight of Hannah with her plate of food and nods a greeting to both her and R'ik. "I certainly intend to, Hannah. She may complain about the butter tarts but I doubt she'll say no to this. Kulari will love it too." Yup, doting daddy is going to introduce his 2 Turn old to bbq! A twist of his lips is given at mention of the young greenrider his mate has told him about but nods again. "Poor kid. He'll be fine once his green rises though, according to Arianne." He glances toward R'ik and chuckles. "Aren't you supposed to be confined … somewhere?" His tone is full of amusement, since he's not at all convinced the big man did anything.

An lo, a wild K'anebeast appears~ The weyrleader's late for the party, but at least he comes in freshly-scrubbed, his hair neatly knotted up in a man-bun. He didn't shave, though. Who cares about shaving, right? He meanders through the crowds, stopped every few steps as he's hailed by people stopping him. He's never going to make it to Hannah's side at this rate~

Once again, Ione is all primped and polished in her pretty little green dress, hair up in an intricate knot. But it's more habit than desire that has her looking so nice, as the youngest goldrider eyes the festivities with clear mistrust in her eyes. There may not be a door here to hide a dead body, but what if there's one in the bushes? Floating in the river? DEAD PEOPLE COULD BE ANYWHERE. So yes, the redhead is slightly on edge as she wanders through the party, checking in on people as she passes.

Passing Rue becomes wheeling Rue, narrowly missing a pinball off El'ai's elbow…his back receives a quick grumpy glare before the little greenrider is back by Hannah, alight with interest over whatever the weyrwoman's got off of Ardstelle. "Oh, yes please!" She would love to try it and with that scrappy wildling physique just where is she putting it anyway? She pushes the food she's already got around on her plate to make a space for new arrivals.

You whisper, "The light of day is starting to pass, so most people wouldn't notice anything moving off in the distance. In the shadows. But you're still a hunter, right? Is something moving out there by the water? Obscured by plant life and a growing darkness?" to K'lir.

Conversely, the elder junior weyrwoman with red hair arrives in a flourish of gold-trimmed white: plunging neckline, check, otherwise modest knee-length affair, check, but so tight as to make it all kind of pointless, check. Bailey doesn't care she's already too-tall, she's in heels and owns the space around her, floating towards K'lir's general vicinity. He's easy enough to find.

Isolde, that spunky weyrharper that hardly leaves her room except to perform (she's been busy writing music, a lament to Sven, ok?), is here. She has a handful of nuts, and is popping them up and into her mouth, watching the exchanges with the confident air of a poised popstar.

Lisette has stolen so many samples off the plate at this point that she needs a napkin. She disappears into the crowd before anyone can call her out for what she's doing, spotting El'ai just as she gets caught on the otherside of a group of people congregating in front of her. "Hey! Over here!"

"K'ane," Did Hannah see K'ane's arrival? "Would never," Hannah's voice is staunch and firm when she turns that confidence onto R'ik himself from K'lir, "let a bronzerider of Southern languish in arrest." The edge of that is cold, as if there's a subtle ill-portent should K'ane FAIL. But K'ane won't fail, right? "Oh! K'lir? How is your child?" The question is posed after R'ik wanders off, but not without a quick pat from Hannah. Clementine is waved at, so is Ione, but otherwise, the goldrider is content to eat her food. YES, IT IS DELICIOUS PEOPLE. HAVE MORE. THERE IS SURELY NOT PEOPLE IN THIS. Ahem. OH WAIT. "BAILEY. FOOD." Just in case Bailey missed this.

El'ai finally spots Lisette and pushes through the crowd (sorry, Isolde, did he accidentally bump into you?!) to grasp her hand. "Hey there. I looked for you, but." That cocky grin is back, though somewhat muted. "I think this is a bad idea." JUST STATING THE OBVIOUS PEOPLE.

Clementine spots Hannah waving at her from a distance and waves back. She also takes another sip from this beer because she's definitely going to need it if she's going to survive through all the faking she's doing. She passes by Sa'mael and ribs him before heading to get something else to eat. Maybe if she just eats some more food? Or if she hangs out by the table where it's at, she'll look busy and people won't try to talk to her as much.

Cha'el, is arrested by T'ral's question and lifts a brow in a show of curiosity. "Depends if its work related or not." Because he's soooo not in work mode this afternoon.

Sa'mael is busy stuffing himself with chicken. He notices the crowd getting thicker and thus his glower gets harder. That is until R'ik shows up with the SAUCE. "You are fucking dumb, you know that, right?" He takes that booze (it better be; if it's not, Sa'mael's face is going to be SAD) and nudges his friend in the side. "You know better than to leave some kind of crap scent trail for the po-po to find." SERIOUSLY, R'IK! He's half-joking, because he must already be half-buzzed, but he's also partially serious given the graveness in coldfire blue eyes.

Despite the flickering light of the bonfire and the lowering of Rukbat in the west interfering with his night-sight, K'lir frowns as he catches a glimpse of movement at the edge of the river. Squinting slightly in that direction he does his best to determine what might be moving down there and running through the wild beasts he knows aren't all that afraid of humans and comes up dry. But then Hannah is asking about Kulari and makes him glance back toward her. "Hmm? Oh … Kulari is great. Growing like a weed and …" Another flicker of movement pulls his attention back to the river. "Umm … running us ragged."

R'ik doesn't so much ignore K'lir so much as he sends him a guarded look before offering a sardonic, "Couldn't find a cell big enough for Hry too." There is a quick look shot Hannah's way a subtle message behind pale eyes as he draws alongside Sa'mael and hands him the drink. A tilt of head offers suggestion of finding themselves a slice of quiet off to one side.

Along the edges, a dark-haired youth, serious and grave-eyed: for all that he's coltish-limbed, he wears appropriately-sized clothes trimmed in Harper blue. Rhysan avoids contact with the majority of people, instead snitching food with a proprietary eye to the circling servers and particularly keeping away from the Weyrharper who's out there somewhere. Does the set of his shoulders count as a sulk?

You whisper, "There's something going on out there. As the movement grows closer, it becomes clear that it's a decidedly more fearsome beast than any animal. But men. Moving as quietly as they can to avoid being noticed by the large group." to K'lir.

The bluerider tears his eyes from the building he's deconstructing with his brain to face Cha'el. "Well, there's work involved." He squints, putting hands into pockets and rocking onto his toes briefly, "Though it may be a bit out of your area after all." He clears his throat, chin tucked and looks at the brownrider from under quirked brows, "How would you go about getting a ship out of a tree?"

K'ane heard his name! Somewhere over there. It sounded like Hannah, even. But instead he moves to stand next to Clementine. "Okay," he says to her, his voice en-sotto, "Where'd y'find th' beer, woman?"

You whisper, "K'lir does look distracted by that treeline, doesn't he? If you look that way can you see the movement out there too?" to T'ral.

Niklaas is there to look pretty: no, really, he's there as a guard representative. Maybe he's guarding Clementine or Ione or Hannah or Bailey or just ALL THE PEOPLE COLLECTED HERE. Anyway, it's Rhysan notes: "It's best not to skulk." Amusement tilts up his lips in a crooked half-smile.

It's Rhysan *he* notes

Cha'el stares at T'ral for a moment then glances down to his hands. Is there a glass in them? Has he been drinking? Bright eyes narrow in consideration while fingers are licked free of the flakes of pastry lingering on them. "Cut the tree down?"

Sa'mael also gives Clementine THE STINK-EYE for that ribbing. (maybe it tickled)

Clementine has half a little sandwich shoved into her mouth when K'ane turns up next to her. "..??" There's some mumbling as she takes care of the chewing and has another gulp of beer. "I got it from over there." Where there's totally a refreshment table. With beer, lots of delicious cold beer.

You whisper, "K'lir does look distracted by that treeline, doesn't he? If you look that way can you see the movement out there too?" to Cha'el.

Ione's steps take her pass a pair of bronzeriders, and just in passing the girl lays a hand on R'ik's arm. It's a gesture that's probably meant to convey something along the lines of 'I know you didn't do it and I'm sorry that people suck', but it's brief. She brushes past Sam and then continues on her way, on the alert. There's no plate in her hands, and given the fact that she deosn't seem capable of just stopping, its unlikely the young woman has paused to eat. Hannah gets a wave in return, and then she's off again. Party imperfections patrol, coming through.

When El'ai bumps into her, Isolde spills some of her nuts. She chuckles and aims one of the remaining ones at his head. Not like it will hit him. Really. And she totes knows where you are Rhysan, but isn't that concerned. She's a live-and-let-live kind of gal, really. Except when people get murdered. Crazy Southern.

Rhysan freezes when he's addressed, turns ambiguous dark gaze upwards at Niklaas. "I'm not skulking," he protests in that low, sulky way of early teenagers caught out at doing what they shouldn't be. He stuffs the sliver of beef served on some fanciful pastry into his mouth and moves to leave the vicinity of the guard's authoritarian presence.

Lisette steps close to El'ai and mutters, "None of these parties ever work out well, do they? I'd like to think this one is going to… but." She's skeptical, it's her nature.

"Let me reframe," T'ral tongues the back of his teeth, eyes pitched skyward to consider how best to state it, "Caught in several trees, and about," he holds a hand and chest height and then sends it zooming up, "About half a dragonlength up. AND still have a ship at the end." His eyes fall back down and skip off of Cha'el's sea blue to something that's caught his eye. K'lir. The set of the man's shoulders is alert. The direction of his attention, pointed. Something has garnered his attention. The bluerider's own shoulders straighten as he, too, spots something moving out there. He narrows eyes again and looks. Just shadows, right? Of course, right.

Thanks for cursing it, Lisette.

Hannah watches R'ik move off, and spies K'ane with Clementine, and notes Ione's location as well as Bailey's. "You don't sound too sure about this," she laughs, turning her attention back on the Weyrsecond. "Are you suuuuuuure she's running you ragged?" Hannah knows, however, just how much work little children are.

Sa'mael gives Ione a not-too-awesome smile that speaks to nothing good before he's eyeballing R'ik. "Mmmmmk." The bronzerider moves off a little bit to the side, still carrying his plate, and gives R'ik the raised-brow look. "So what the fuck happened?"

"No, these parties end horribly. Maybe that young goldrider has cursed planning…" Did El'ai just throw shade at Ione?! "It's definitely not Bailey's fault." Listen, brother-sister solidarity here.

K'ane narrows his eyes thoughtfully upon the TABLE OF WONDERS, aka the beer table, and claps Clem on the back with approximately the same force as he'd give a Cha'el-back-slap. Guess she just looks like she can, uh, take it. "Thanks!" and he's off to go claim a stein of cold, delicious beer.

K'lir is totally distracted from the partying going on around him. Something is making the short hair on the back of his neck rise and he's not liking the fact that there are so many of the goldriders here and a much lower number of guards than he'd prefer. He passes off his plate of food to a passing server and mutters, "Excuse me …" to whomever is still talking to him in a distracted fashion. The bronzerider moves slowly through the crowd, not being too obvious about where he's going but still moving closer to the river. Once in a while he reaches out to touch the shoulder of one of Jaguar's riders with a low murmur to follow stealthily as they move.

Clementine can't take that kind of back-smacking. She spits up some of her beer. DISGUSTING.

Niklaas watches Rhysan the way all adults watch teenagers: with indulgence. "Uh-huh." However, hasn't anyone heard of Killer Kids? So he watches Rhysan to make SURE he doesn't do anything weird. Someone's been watching too much investigation discovery on tv..

Bailey idly stalks K'lir, because she can. He looks like he's up to something interesting, OKAY. She steals someone's stem of wine as she goes by, takes a sip, makes a face, and passes it back onto a different tray as she slips through the crowds. "Thanks!" she brightly smirks at her brother at the solidarity before she's moving past him, too, in her pursuit of the Jaguarites gathering.

El'ai is just lucky that Ione didn't hear that and doesn't feel the need to contribute to the dead body count at Southern's gathering. NOT COOL, MAN.

Cha'el's listening, really he is but someone just meandered by with a tray of goodies. He steps out to the side, swipes a skewer with roasted meat and vegetables on it and steps back in again. "Hnnnngh." A thoughtful sound rolls up his throat as he pulls a cube of meat free with his teeth and contemplates the dilemma. When T'ral's attention slides away, so does his and he stops chewing and stares into the treeline. "How close you reckon the felines will get to a gathering," he goes on to ask of the Lynx wingleader and/or K'lir depending on proximity.

"Yeah, definitely not Bailey." Bailey's like her sister-in-law or something now, so basically has some kind of immunity from Lisette's crazy conspiracy theories. But, "I bet it was totally the fourteen turn old." Ione is not fourteen, but well… the Serval brownrider kind of sucks.

Rhysan did it. Sure. The foster-son of the Weyrharper did Sven in, Niklaas. It makes so much sense. Suuuuure. (He is, incidentally, fourteen. What is WRONG with you people.) He actually does stop and stare at Lisette for a long moment before taking the long away around El'ai, his steps edging and quick.

Still adrift, Rue makes her way over to Clementine, thinking of cashing on on clutchmate solidarity. At any rate, she probably won't be annoyingly chatty beyond a "Hello-" which is cut just a teensy bit short at the end when the goldrider's backslapping makes her spit-take.

The fourteen year old did it!

Rhysan is pretty sure she meant IONE.

NO, she was very age-specific.

Sure, BLAME THE HARPERS.

I see no "to K'lir" here.

"Exactly what I knew would happen." R'ik drawls to Sa'mael watching members of their wing peel off and follow K'lir. A look is shot first to K'ane and then to Cha'el to see what their reactions are. "Lazy harper looking for an easy fix."

You whisper, "The treeline is dense, but since you're there first you get an eyeful of what's going on. A trio of men, guiding a small boat up the increasingly shallow waters of river. If you're thinking that they look like they don't belong there, you would be right. And when they see you, they aren't happy. One man gets smart and takes off, but the other two are little dumber. More brazen. They'll try to pull you and subdue you if given half a chance!" to K'lir.

"The four-" El'ai pauses and then it clues into him. "I'm pretty sure she's older than fourteen," because he does not relish the idea of Flights with a fourteen turn old. "Listen, let's just maybe migrate our way over and away from the collection of people." Y'know, in case Ione brings down the curse. He flashes Rhysan (sullen thing) a grin.

Niklaas is just doing his job Rhysan! Sniff. No one likes the guard. (Bee-tee-dubs: Niklaas is not incompetent).

You whisper, "There's absolutely movement and not of the animal variety, K'lir could be about to walk into something more dangerous than angry wherry." to T'ral.

You whisper, "There's absolutely movement and not of the animal variety, K'lir could be about to walk into something more dangerous than angry wherry." to Cha'el.

Clementine isn't noticing the riders wandering towards the edge of the river, because she's busy trying not to choke on her beer. After a minute or so, her airways clear and she exhales. "Hi Rue. There's drinks."

T'ral reaches for a machete that's not there. He really should make it part of his dress attire. To Cha'el, "Not close unless they're sick." He pauses, "Bad sick." He pauses again, "The kind of bad sick that'd make them get very close." He is suddenly glad that Catryn is home abed. He moves toward the guard posted who's giving a lanky youth the (indulgent) hairy eyeball. T'ral scans both men, younger and less young alike, "You here when this area was cleared?" His eyes haven't left the treeline. He stiffens when he catches sight of something not animal. "K'lir!" And just because it's reflex, that same warning fires through draconic link to Bryntaeroth. The sense is 'danger!' and a flash of whatever T'ral saw — not animal.

About then K'ane swings around with beer to give R'ik one of those back-claps. It's a very physical form of affection. It's life-affirming, if one survives it~ "See y' at drills tomorrow," is what he says simply to the bronzerider, before barging on towards… "Hannah!" he's MADE IT.

A frown catches to Cha'el's brows as he watches the small contingent head off toward the treeline. "K'ane." Hopefully he doesn't have to raise his voice too much to catch the Weyrleader's attention. And if he's successful, he'll tilt his head in the direction that K'lir is leading the others in with Bailey on their trail. Silent message that reads: Something's up.

Of COURSE something's up. Look at all them dresses them wimmins are wearing.

Sa'mael is distracted by Bailey's approach, giving her the same toothed grin that yields little in the arena of niceness. "Hmmmm," he mutters, eyeing his friend. "What were you doing down there? And dropping shit? Myziri was all on my ass about how they found your shit all over the place." He shoots R'ik a look before drowning ALL OF HIS ALCOHOL down his gullet. Mo'. He needs mo' of that good stuff. When K'lir touches one of their fellow wing members on the shoulder, this does draw Sa'mael's attention. "What's going on over there?"

Isolde isn't heading over to the river with everyone. She might be wearing stellar combat boots with her white dress, but she doesn't want them to get muddy. She's got her priorities, and they seem to have enough eyes. That and that goldrider Clementine just said there's drinks. Maybe other than beer? She's going over to check that out.

K'lir leaving her ALONE and R'ik off with his bff, leaves Hannah with her chickens. Even BAILEY has wandered off into the crowds. "Dear chickens, I love you." She's just stuck one in her mouth when K'ane appears like magic. "PFF'ANE!" JAM. POKE. That little finger hits him in the belly. "You take care of R'ik."

Bailey isn't interested in you, SAMMAEL. She's interested in K'lir. Well. Not like that. But she is still stalking them, picking her way down to the river with a newly-purloined beer in one hand. A guard detaches from the wall and drifts after her, obviously well-trained in his actual guarding.

K'lir's frown deepens as he makes it to the treeline, his hunter's instincts helping him to blend into the dense greenery though his wingmates don't have quite the same ability. This is what gives those men the warning that they've been spotted. The bronzerider moves to head off the one that is taking off and gesturing to the other Jaguars to round up the other two. Unfortunately those are some big guys and one of them manages to get around behind the Weyrsecond and bind him up in a nelson that makes it really hard to fight back. The other seems to be thrashing a couple of the other riders who managed to crash their way through the underbrush.

<Southern Weyr> Nemekhath senses that: Bryntaeroth thinks « Threads of darkness touch each dragon in the Weyr, the lava flows racing downhill as a wash of rage moves through the black night briefly. « There are men on the river. » »

R'ik stumbles forward and slops his drink over his boot. DAMMIT, K'ANE! The ready glare is gone before it even forms and finds the younger bronzerider careflly eyeing the Weyrleader. "Yes, Sir." Excuse him if he sounds a little uncertain about what to make of that.

Ione's on patrol, so when attention starts shifting away from the party, the youngest goldrider is on it immediately. Either something is wrong with her party (oh no!) or something is wrong. There's some urgency in the way she pushes herself through the crowd to join T'ral. "What's going on?" she demands, and then… "Oh, come on," as Bryntaeroth's message reaches her as well.

Following Sa'mael's gaze - No, not to Bailey's ass - R'ik shrugs. "Dunno but I sure as fuck ain't stepping any deeper into the shit pile." He's already knee deep as it is.

"I saw," Rue says to Clementine with a crooked grin, then decamps nearby to work on her plate a bit. She doesn't get through much before there's a Magnavox head-tilt when she gets a message from Yrylith.

"The fuck!" comes the exclamation of Bailey's heathered voice, rising upwards with indignation rather than fear. She also does what any normal woman would do with this: she takes off one of her shoes and THROWS it at the person holding K'lir when she comes across the river scene. "Let him go!" (shit's about to get real guys)

"Th' fuck?" That's K'ane, who pats Hannah on the head and tells her QUITE FIRMLY, "Stay here," points at R'ik and then at her and barks again, "Make sure she stays here!" before splitting off to see wtf the commotion is. There's a lot of crowds between him and whatever's going down by the river, though. It may take him a minute… or five.

"The fuck," Rhysan says thrice, but his is with surprise as he stumbles back from the stampede towards the river. seriously wtf

By now, the fact that there's a struggle on the outskirts of the party should be rippling through the crowd. One man is struggling with K'lir (and getting hit in the head WITH A SHOE) while the other is doing a pretty good number on a couple of Jaguar riders. He's big and dumb and just acting out some very clear emotional troubles. That third man is probably long gone or hiding nearby, but it seems for now that they've at least got two of them in one spot.

Oh, T'zaim got here. WITH THE MEN IN THE JUNGLE. Coincidence?

They arrested the wrong bronzerider!!11!

I know when I think 'jungle man', I think T'zaim for sure.

Isolde has found a drink both sweet and brightly-coloured, and sashays as close as she can get to the group of dragonriders near the river without getting dirty. And then… weyrwoman Bailey throws her shoe? This CAN'T be good.

R'ik's gaze swings to K'ane, lands on Hannah then bounces over to Sa'mael. For some reason, the jet-haired bronzerider, the one everyone probably expects to throw himself into the thick of the fray takes one look at what's going on and…turns his back on it. Nope. He'll be over there next to Hannah, Ione and Clementine protecting the wimmens! Yup. Maybe he's all bark and no bite.

The guy holding him in that choking/binding fashion is just a bit bigger than K'lir but he's still not having an easy time of it as the bronzerider uses every dirty fighting tactic he's ever learned. Stepping back on the man's foot with his heavy riding boot, the amber-eyed Jaguard manages to get his attacker off-balance and throws his weight backwards so that he lands atop the bandit which makes the hold loosen so that he can squirm free. Rolling to his feet, he snags the man's tunic and unloads a punch that ought to put the man out until they can get his carcass back to the Weyr proper.

Clementine watches as an apparent brawl begins on the outskirts. No, she's not going to run in there and fight anyone. Is the refreshment table still open? Now is probably time to work on that career alcoholism. You know, as her guard tries to haul her away. With her resisting of course.

"What the fuck?" Sa'mael is just about to make a comment on something else when K'lir is suddenly causing chaos. It's not so easy to see exactly what's going on, but he shoots his friend a glance and heaves right into the chaos after dropping his dinner (woe) and following after K'ane. "We will get this sorted out," he promises, tone diamond hard and rife with nothing good for whomever is framing his friend.

The peanut gallery speaks: "I told you it would end badly!" El'ai will try to ferret Lisette away (lol). "Every damn party, man. Every single one."

Oh! Excitement! "Pff," Hannah watches K'ane DIVE THROUGH THE CROWDS and before she can think on her actions, she's running off in that direction too. Order her around will he? Fuck that! She bumps into someone (Isolde? Rue? T'ral? Bueller?) and then darts around. Maybe she's making sure R'ik has a merry chase (because she's not immediately going to be where R'ik thinks she is!). But she's small and quick. Dudes are big and lumbery- this is what she banks on!

Niklaas just sighs. Holds his head. "Where's Noah?" Life is full of fail.

Bailey HELPED, K'lir. Don't be a damn glory-hound. In fact, she throws her OTHER shoe at the man attacking K'lir… but c'mon, her aim isn't perfect, and she probably just ends up hitting K'lir with it instead~

Too late his warning comes. It is T'ral's fate to see the threads weaving in time to feel the thread, but too late to save people from it. The bluerider lurches to spring to K'lir, but others are on the way. Instead he throws an arm across Ione, a barrier to forward movement, and unless she dances away, presses the pair of them towards the bonfire. Backs to the flame, "Men. On the river." Apparently.

[edit] …feel the threat,

Hannah SURELY runs away, but then suddenly there is a kid approximately Hannah-sized in her way and in a FWOOMP of colty limbs Rhysan is BOWLED OVER by the weyrwoman. Maybe she trips over him at the same time. But his startled noise of mcstartledment is pretty loud. And did his voice just crack? (fucking puberty)

T'zaim has been here the whole time. So has Loe. Probably not Johannes, though - or, at least, he's keeping a low profile because people die at SW parties, so he's just hanging around till the inevitable occurs. So two of my alts are eating and drinking and being merry, yay, while their player catches up~

Pretend Cha'el is in there somewhere, throwing punches, catching a few and doing whatever it is he needs to do because his player is currently drowning in spam :D Bailey's shoe? Totally misses its target and beans the brawny brownrider instead. "The fuck!?" There seems to be a lot of that going around at the moment. Maybe he punches K'ane by accident.

Somehow this brawl comes into the light of the bonfire and the second man takes a certain umbrage at K'lir punching out his buddy! Maybe they're brothers. They look similar? They're both very ugly. As he starts to rage towards him, he stops and spots R'ik across the party. "HEY I KNOW YOU!"

Ione finally spots that commotion, and immediately tries to move as though to get there, but there's an arm in the way. The bluerider is glared at, but the goldrider allows herself to be lead back to the bonfire… and promptly ducks away. Into the crowd she goes, heading back to linger at the outskirts of the crowd again. She needs to see this shit properly, so she can recognize the assholes who ruined her latest party.

"I KNOW YOU TOO!" Classic case of mistaken identity, 'cause that's K'ane yelling back, mostly because he thought that was towards him, 'cause the angle is the same, right? That's the direction he's coming from. With a right hook. But he's still slogging through people getting in his way.

Bowling over Rhysan, Hannah is suddenly all on the ground and easily held up from entering the fray. "I'm so sorry!" she apologizes profusely to Rhysan. But at least (for the moment) she's safe and thus not in the mix of fighting men.

Rue RCA headtilts, actually, and after a long look at Clementine to she what she's going to do about it (be dragged off, apparently…luckily Rue lacks an entourage), the greenrider just keeps on eating, body tense but knowing there's little she can do in a fight with that many big dudes whaling on eachother.

"HANNAH!" R'ik yells after the tiny little streak of goldrider lightning. "DAMMIT, WOMAN!" About to sprint off after her his head snaps around and his gaze locks with the interloper. Features crowd about an ugly scowl and he aims his path instead at the one yelling about him. One pace away he flings himself at the guy, attempt at a full on bodyslam in the hopes of shutting his mouth for him.

K'lir is suddenly aware of a lot more big, brawny people around him throwing punches and pretty much tripping over each other in the thick brush growing along the river. He ducks a thrown punch, not really wanting to get slugged by one of his wingmates, and stumbles away slightly which puts him between R'ik and the other ugly. "I'm glad you know someone … you're gonna be a real chatterbox, aren't you?"

"I DINK OO BWOKE MY NOBE." Rhysan has a hand up to his admittedly bloody nose, and his dark eyes are super upset at Hannah. y u do this y u so mean weyrwoman :(

You whisper, "You know that you're not supposed, BUT… they were dragging a boat up through the water! And if you can stand to get your feet wet and look at the contents, you'd see what looks like a lot of misc. crap. Except it's not, it all looks valuable and sellable. Stolen. Where were they taking all this stolen crap if they were heading towards the weyr?!" to Ione.

You whisper, "And those bad guys are totally occupied anyway." to Ione.

"DAMMIT WOMAN!" It's the refrain of the afternoon, T'ral growls as Ione darts away. He skirts the throng alert for more attackers and maybe shadowing the daggum goldrider who doesn't have the good sense to keep her chicken neck unbroken.

"No, I do know him! I met him!" He snarls and tries to get past K'lir to wave his meaty fist at R'ik. "This is your fault somehow! He said this route was safe." R'ik said it was safe? Or someone ELSE said it was safe? Like that third man who escaped the scuffle somehow?

"You have got to be kidding me," Sa'mael mutters when the man makes his claim of knowledge, but he is absolutely fighting the surging mass of crowds towards the commotion. Where are the women? Where are the - "Fucking asshole!" He pulls a man off of a woman who'd fallen to the ground and was getting trampled. Tossing the man into another man, he helps the woman up and shoves her on towards someone else. The crowds are working against him.

You whisper, "If someone were to pat him down and search his pockets they'd a map. Not an original map ut a poorly done copy. It looks like Southern Weyr, the outer wall of it and ways to get into the underground." to K'lir.

Hey, there are two blueriders chasing Ione, since Loe materializes (yes, materializes) at the goldrider's side, asking cheerily, "Anyone dead yet? I definitely see blood."

"Have you seen my sister?" Vi has to make a cameo somewhere. "I think she's wearing my shirt!" Her voice is distressed even as she tugs on someone's sleeve only for it to turn up to be Sa'mael. "Have you seen Clem?" she suddenly looks pathetic as she realizes who it is. "She's going to STRETCH IT OUT," that's almost a wail. Listen. Priorities people~

You overhear T'ral mutter, "… party. … busy." to himself.

And here is patient Niklaas, here to help Hannah and Rhysan. The former looks stricken and the latter has a face full of blood. "Come on…" And Hannah might have a desire for adventure, but it's trumped by the fact that she hurt a kid. WOE. She didn't mean it!

Oh hellooooo boat. Seeing that those burly men are otherwise occupied (go Southern, go! rah rah team!), Ione just sliiides her way on over to their abandoned boat. She's too focused to notice a bluerider on her tail. Shoes are shucked in the traditional, non-Bailey style as she wades just a little into the chilly water to peer inside. What the fuck? Oh hey, there's a Loe! Ione yelps, but then realizes that voice isn't deep or threatening, and she gestures for her friend to join her. "Look at this!" There's BOOTY.

Clementine bats away at her guard and cracks open another beer, refusing to leave. "The party isn't over yet. And anyway, you guys lose Ione? She's over there!" She points to the escaping young goldrider. —- She's absolutely wearing Vi's shirt. And it looks REALLY GOOD ON HER. Which means it's going to look awful on Vi later. :(

pathetic sobbing from vi-corner

"Ione, ma'am," T'ral deadpans, "Next time the RSVP needs to have a 'hell no' option." He beats feet to follow the goldrider who is quite inexplicably heading to a boat — since those are always loaded with fun at these things. He makes a grab for her. Damn fool, woman.

"What th' fuck are you talking about?" K'ane's finally made it to the knot of controversy. He looks pretty apoplectic. "T'ZAIM DID YOU DO THIS?" he belts out, mostly 'cause he just saw T'zaim and c'mon, the timing was super fucking suspicious, guys.

Wasn't it?

Sa'mael keeps getting stuck by having to help people. UGH. Sheeple. "She's over there." He points towards Clementine and her crowd, but sighs when he looks into those whiskey eyes. Good thing Vi doesn't realize her own power, but he's clamping his hand around her upper arm. "I'll take you to the other women who are fucking dumb and getting too close." That's right, he will try to drag Vi away. Towards Ione and hopefully Clementine. And T'ral, because how did he get to be the Rescue Fairy in this adventure?

Isolde sends Vi a pouty sympathetic look, throughout all of this craziness. SHE GET IT. Then up goes the perfectly plucked eyebrow. Or is she judging?

R'ik having tripped over someone at the last moment, hits the ground hard on his shoulder with a grunt, rolls to his feet and locks eyes with the man yelling about him. "You fucker!" He growls and tries to reach around K'lir to aim a punch at his accuser. "Ain't never seen you in my life before!"

Ione is off looking at strange boats, so dragging Vi toward her is PROBABLY A BAD IDEA SAM.

T'ral moves the 'bad idea' sentiment in Ione's last.

Bailey's totally going to reach out to aim to grab R'ik by the back of the neck/shirt/whatever. "You need to calm the fuck down, bronzerider," her husky voice briskly states. She's totally strong enough to hold him back if he doesn't get all ninja-fu on her ass or doesn't evade the grip in the first place.

Loe is with her. Looking at booty. "Look at what?" If Vi came over, it would be a perfect storm of pretty people with bad judgment~

Rue goes home.

Sa'mael ain't exactly letting go of Vi, so he's definitely headed that way. TO ALL OF THEM. And probably will trot right past Isolde as he does. Aw crap, and probably have to help someone else from getting trampled.

"Probably," answers T'zaim to whoever's yelling his name, meanwhile busy refilling a glass of something that will make him care considerably less if someone does wind up dying at this shindig.

"Oh my God," Vi can be heard as she somehow wrenches away from Sa'mael's grasp (she can be a SLIPPERY FISH sometimes, okay): "Look at those shoes!" They might just be Ione's. Or maybe Bailey's. She's just going to… go give herself a five-fingered discount if Ione doesn't watch out~ (or if Sammy doesn't just PICK HER UP and CARRY HER AWAY but that could be interesting all in itself!)

K'lir manages to keep R'ik from getting his hands on the man making that claim, but just barely. "Stand down, R'ik." is a low growl from the Weyrsecond as he shoves the younger man back a bit before stepping forward. Bracketed by other Jaguars, he reaches out to search the man and (provided his hands don't get slapped away) manages to pull a crumpled bit of hide out of a pocket. Stepping back, he unfolds it and frowns as he examines it briefly. "A map … where'd you get the map?" It's tucked into his own pocket to turn over to K'ane later but for now, they've gotta deal with this guy.

K'ane is totally right there, K'lir. Right in front of you.

He can read and everything.

With someone suddenly grabbing him from behind, R'ik turns with a bezerker's look in his eyes and for a second it looks very much like he might punch the person that has done so. Until he realizes just who it is. "Bailey." Its a low growl, the sound of a canine being forced into unwilling submission by its handler. Two seconds go by and then, he literally gives himself a shake, glances over at K'ane, flicks a look to K'lir and…stalks off. If he had fur, it would be bristling.

Edit last line. It's handed off to the Weyrleader though his angry gaze remains on the bandit.

"You can always say no, T'ral," Ione says primly, but she's already there reaching down to inspect that booty more closely. "It looks valuable." And given the brawl going on, "Probably stolen." Since T'ral is already there, she gestures for him to join, just happening to brush his arm away in the process. Oops! She has totally forgotten about her shoes, so Vi might get away with it~

The truly ugly man gives R'ik a smug look when he's restrained. When asked where he got the map from he gives the punchy-bronzerider a significant look before spitting on the ground and answering K'lir, "I have my sources." Which he apparently doesn't plan on disclosing outloud just now.

You whisper, "It's a map of the outskirts of Southern Weyr, it's poorly done and thus probably not the original. But it shows ways into the belly of the weyr, the catacombs. And that boat? It's pointed towards one of the entrances." to K'ane.

Is Clementine the only person not standing in the midst of Punchy Guy and the people investigating the boat? Probably. She's just going to carry on with pretending this party is fine. It's great this way. It's fine. PERFECTLY FINE.

Hey, she still has her beer.

T'zaim's also not! But he's drinking.

Clementine drinks the beer.

And you might also consider restricting the 'plus ones.'" He glowers over at the guests. Curious though, and determined not to let anything terrible spring at his goldrider(s) unawares, he tramps along too, eyes sharp. Maybe he'll have time to call out a too-late warning again. He flicks a glance over Loe and Clem's klepto sister before looking at the target of Ione's attention.

[edit] …"And you might."

Oh, look! It's a map. K'ane squints down at it while K'lir seems to have the bandits (ARE they bandits?) well-in-hand, turning it around and checking the state of the boat towards wha… "What th' fuck do you think you are DOING?" His glancing yielded him a quick showing of Ione and Loe and — is that T'ral? "T'ral!" he barks. "Get those women th' fuck away from that boat!" Unless they are being helpful, but you know.

Y'know what? Screw the rescue fairy shit. As Vi gets her hands on Ione's shoes, Sa'mael does haul the woman up and over his shoulder after yanking out the girl's shoes. "You forgot these," he hisses in Ione's ear as he stalks by, and drops the shoes on the goldrider. And then? Vi is probably doing her best to wiggle away, but HE WILL CARRY HER OFF. And away. Probably with an ass-slap and a bark to, "Be still you fool woman!"

Actually, Clementine is going to go stand by T'zaim. "The samples from Ardstelle were really great. Did you get to have some?"

"BUT THOSE WERE GORGEOUS," Vi cries. Yes. She's crying. Clem you have the WORST friends :(

Isolde spots T'zaim at the drinks, near where she is now, and tips her glass towards him, her tone casual. "You dragonriders sure know how to throw a party." She includes Clementine in this.

Darkness swells, the river of time stretches into the infinite. A moment hangs frozen then the rumbled engine of assurance bound in Fire and Earth. « Your sister is safe. » The unspoken command lies in that statement that Clementine better be safe too. (From Czhaevth)

Bailey, meanwhile, watches R'ik stomp off with cool grey eyes, before leaving the vicinity of the shit-going-down because there are bossy men around. Instead she's going to go find Hannah. Wherever Hannah's at. Breaking teenaged boy noses.

Cha'el is there looking a little rumpled and, "Dammitall," there's blood on his shirt. "Ksenia's gonna have my pudding." Woe. Arms folded across his chest, he squints after the departing young bronzerider then over to K'lir before casting a glance to the map K'ane's checking out. "That bit looks like it could be-." Cut off by the commotion over by the boat. "What the everloving fuck." The result dissolves into a grumbled mutter under his breath.

*Tweak: The *rest dissolves into a grumbled…

Hannah is still trying to not feel terrible for accidentally breaking the kid's nose. Seeing Bailey, she clings to her friend, "Thank Faranth. Help me…" Whatever else is said, fades off into the sunset.

It sure sounds like K'lir's teeth are going to split off at the root he's grinding them so hard. He just can't go to a party and have it go off without something coming up and messing it up, can he? If it's not Thread, it's pirates or bandits or … whatever these guys are. When the man refuses to spill, he huffs a sigh and glances toward K'ane. "Please … just let me drop him naked in the middle of the icy wastes? He'll talk after freezing his dangly bits off."

Considering she's ruined her socks and definitely damaged the bottom of her skirt to come look at the contents of this boat, Loe might have a solid defense against accusations that she's trying to steal already stolen goods. She definitely picks up something, looks it over, and puts it in her pocket, anyway. "Probably. Do you think we could get it out of the boat ourselves?" Not including T'ral, at whom she glances with a quick 'oh hi, didn't see you there' smile. "I mean, so we could get it back to whoever owns it, of course."

Nemekhath thinks to you, « I bespoke Czhaevth with: Nemekhath doesn't often speak. But for news such as this she can be convinced to respond, « Thank you. » As for whether or not Clementine will stay safe, well. »

There's a sudden SHRIEK from Ione as Sam returns her shoes to her — which means they land IN THE WATER WITH HER. She stares down in dismay as they land in the shallow water, her perfect perfect shoes ruined. "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU, SAM," the goldrider shouts, momentarily forgetting about the booty. Oops. She rescues her ruined shoes and tosses them back to where they were. Have at 'em, Vi. With a deep sigh, she glances to T'ral. "I can't be held responsible for party crashers." And then there's a conspiratorial smile for Loe, as she says, "We can at least try." Which is probably their cue to scoop up that booty and make for the not-so-distant shore.

"I might have taken a few, yes." T'zaim lays a protective hand over a slightly bulging pocket, dredging up a totally innocent smile 'cause there's nothing special in there, nope. "Did I see your sister go tearing off a second ago?" He has a pitcher of something, offers a refill, notices Isolde, bursts out into an inappropriately loud laugh.

Throwing his hands up, Niklaas flings out towards T'ral, "They are all yours." Whomever 'they' are. He's going to go… help Isolde or something. Where did Rue go? Either way, the guard is going to go HELP THE PEOPLE. Or something, but he does disappear into the crowds.

T'ral says, "Oh, they weren't invited? Huh." T'ral nods, 'yes, yes' at K'ane's bellow. He's not going to have any luck wrangling booty-besotted womenfolk and just rolls his wrist at them. G'wan. Oh no, Niklaas. T'ral is done."

The first bad guy from earlier starts to stir, so it would probably be a good idea if all those bossy men hauled him and his friend away to someplace they can't escape. There's still the matter of the third man that escaped but with stolen goods, two captives and a suspicious map there's a lot of other things to focus on. He's not an immediate priority right now.

K'ane shakes his head at K'lir, brusquely: "Let the guards deal with them," he leans closer and then shakes his head again: "That's what we pay 'em for." His attention is still captured by the trio tramping around the boat, vexation clearly limning his brow. "It's like they think we can't see 'em," he mutters, but he's reaching down to grab up the first one starting to stir. "Guards!" he barks. "Take 'em in!" He demonstratively will all but THROW that poor passed out guy towards Niklaas, for instance.

"Yeah, I think she was going to steal someone's shoes. But it looks like she got carried off by Sam." Here Clementine makes weighing motions, uncertain which of these is worse.

ONLY BECAUSE YOU STOLE HER FAVORITE SHIRT.

T'ral makes himself useful once it's clear that Ione and company aren't going to be assaulted, maimed or otherwise discomfited. Whatever the booty is, he leaves it all to the guards and Weyrleadership.

"Here, I bet this will buy a new pair of shoes." Loe holds out something sparkly to Ione before she starts collecting some rich stuff. Like those girls in Goonies who bedeck themselves in treasure right before the Fertelli's show up and make them walk the plank.

Oh? Thee's something for Niklaas to do? That's AWESOME! He is going to show off his awesome by helping to bind and get the criminals away. Before they wake up and start thrashing. How many are there? IT DOESN'T MATTER. He takes it away and spends whatever is left of the shattered party - seriously, Ardstelle is ANGRY AND THROWS HER SHIT DOWN AND YELLS, "NO MORE FREEBIES! EVER. AGAIN!" and stalks off - wrangling these guys to the right people. Bad ass guard, at yo' service! That's his end to an otherwise terrible party.

When K'ane says let the guards deal with them, K'lir can't help but bark a soft laugh though frustration is still thick in his tone. "Then we need to pay them more … maybe then they'll do their job and let us enjoy a party once in a while." There is just a bit of wry humor in the words but he steps aside as the one standing is dragged away, the one just starting to stir hauled up and away too. "I'll let you deal with them though … if you need me for anything, you know where I'm at." An admission that he's more than happy to break bones or anything else that needs it to get the answers they're looking for.

With the guards called in and quite literally taking everything in hand, Cha'el with a last look swept from treeline to booty boat, will take himself off to the table groaning with good food. Maybe if he takes his weyrmate a bunch of TASTEBUD HEAVEN, she'll overlook how he's messed up yet another shirt. Oh. And that he dropped by the party to begin with leaving her with two sick kidlets while nursing a cold of her own.

K'ane turns a simple glance towards K'lir, expression carefully neutral. Whatever caused such a reaction doesn't transfer over into words, however, and he just, instead, allows the guards to do their jobs and hies himself off to talk to a distraught Holder who made a trip up just for this party and, of course, wants to talk grievances. Politics. Gotta love 'em. :(

Ione is more than content to bedeck herself in things and pretend that her latest party wasn't another HUGE FLOP like the last one. She can even (maybe) ignore Ardstelle yelling, because pretty things! Valuable things. "Oh, that looks good on you," she tells Loe, picking up something else and holding it up to her neck. Aaand that's how they'll completely ignore the lingering effects of the chaos behind them.

And also steal stuff.

Shhhh.

And yet Vi gets carried off when she tries anything similar. INJUSTICE. DRAGONRIDER BIAS D: D: D:

Vi needs some better friends.

PSSHHHH. Like Vi will be crying injustice after being carried off

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