Zeyta, N'ayl, Mayte, Sadaiya, and E'bert


Long lost siblings are catching up in the Cantina. Mayte, Sadaiya, and E'bert join in the… joyous? occasion.


It is evening of the fourth day of the first month of the second turn of the 12th pass.


Igen Weyr Dustbowl Cantina

OOC Date


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Dustbowl Cantina

To enter the Dustbowl Cantina is to descend: the heart of the ancient tavern lies half underground, at the foot of ancient steps, insulated from summer heat and winter cold by the volcanic rock surrounding it. A windowless place well-lit by glows, it is homey, even cozy, with a certain bijou charm - but for the deep gouges worn in wooden table and solid stone, some clearly lingering evidence of boisterous brawling. The wall behind the well-polished bar, though, remains free from scars or graffiti, as does the door into the small kitchen, and the stairwell up into the owner's quarters: the barkeep and his staff reign, and they guard their territory well. After all, only a fool angers the source of the booze.

There is a certain throaty tenor that carries itself deep and in the throat; in articulation, the syllables lash out like a fencing foil: "-and yet it all ends in fire, come the end. And the taste of ash in in the throat. All for what." Striding down a decline is a difficult affair for long legs suited to striding, and tall befreckled N'ayl makes due the alternative method, hips turned sideways during his gait, to allow him to speak to the much smaller woman behind him. Pointing a long finger in her little freckled face, "For Father to grow soft and mad." The cantina is beginning to grow crowded with the evening rush, and for now it causes precious little stir.

"Grow soft," comes the shrill outcry, a full foot below the side-winding figure beside her. Zeyta commands height only in the range of her voice, climbed to a shrieking volume in protest as she scowls in perpetual disgruntlement. Feet clipping against stone at a brisk pace to match the longer-legged steps of her twin brother, a palm flying up to swat his pointed finger out of her face. "He's always been soft and mad. No. He's all ice melt; nothing fiery about him. No conviction and that's why he's insane." Even among the crowd, they are a spectacle: two feuding models of regal arrogance executing their rivalry in public.

Almost hot on the heels of the tall one and the loud one, Mayte moves into the room. She's not shy about moving in and around conversations (oh hey, you two) to get to the bar, pretending to be a wisp of air. Yeah right. But Mayte does make it there, ordering and receiving a tall glass of dark red wine. She leans against the bar to watch the crowd, ignoring any looks, until her eyes alight on Zeyta and The Other Guy, which has Mayte sip'n'watch for a little. Even if they're two people that she's just flitted around. But it's hard to hear over the crowd so Mayte, wine in hand, pushes herself away from the bar to slowly meander over. Nothing to see here…

Sadaiya? Been here the whole time, complete with straw stuck in her mouth from some kind of froofy drink that practically has moving parts. Her hand briefly raises as she catches sight of the pair, but the tone has her lowering it, which causes her eyebrows to raise and the eyes over the colorful mini-umbrella to grow speculative.

E'bert pauses for a moment before making his way to a nearby table. Nearby to the door that is. He'll avoid family fueds thanks. Having a younger sister makes him inclined to avoid the twins. A mug of klah is settled in front of him by one of the servers, and sure enough if he tries to move out of the cantina he'll be spotted.

"Mad yet goes madder," N'ayl snatches back his swatted paw as though stung by Zeyta's show of claws, clapping opposing hand around the fingers and clutching them absently to his chest and replaces the accusing digit with his own face. In profile, the resemblance is astounding; N'ayl faintly scruffy, jaw strong and brows thicker, is yet the perfect male counterpoint to Zeyta's pixied features. "As will Zeyta of Igen's NOW. No softer but hard, sharp and foaming in time." This place is veritably crawling with goldriders. N'ayl even manages, in absent motion, a distracted salute to Mayte and his long monkey arms open EXPECTANTLY in Sadaiya's direction. He requires HUGS.

"Mad? You think Zeyta mad? What of N'ayl of Nowhere, galavanting across Pern as aimless and wandering with his person as dear Father is with his mind. You scoundrel lot, all of you!" Zeyta shouts, already immersed in the far-flung depths of her rage, drinking in her own eye to project it outward with her baleful glare. Her sharp features pinch tighter, arched brows knit together where the bridge between them juts out beneath the carved lines furrowing her face. "I am the only sane, fixed one in this family!" Caught fingers fold against the breast delivered them, shoving N'ayl away from her and into the arms of froofroo-sipping Sadaiya. Stamping her foot, she performs a short salute doubled up in the direction of the gold riders, wrathful attention directed to Mayte as she ventures into her territory.

Mayte moves her glass from one hand to the other to return the salute N'ayl gives, and then she looks a little perplexed while following his line of sight to Sadaiya, and all is clear. Mayte sends the older goldrider a polite salute and "Good evening," as she steps back to watch what happens next, which happens to be Zeyta catching her attention. It takes a moment, but when she looks at the woman brownrider, Mayte's expression is that awful, attentive calm as she sips carefully at her wine - the type that enfuriates enraged customers. Oh, and E'bert, Mayte hasn't not seen you - she directs her attention deliberately to the young man to give him a genial wave, then comes back to her wine, nursing it with the other hand tucked under the elbow.

After a quick, "Hey there~", Sadaiya manages to master her reflexes and make the catch! Score! Fortunately she spat out her straw and skidded her drink away quickly enough to avoid any spillage as she embraces the wayward brownrider. "Y'know, I adore her," she murmurs at N'ayl, though giggles add volume, "Truly! Yet sometimes I swear her salutes are just shy of a middle finger when she's, um, in high dudgeon." A final squeeze and she releases the poor, beleagured man. "How are you, dear one? I've missed your face."

E'bert blinks around and gives both Mayte and Sadaiya a belated salute. He hadn't noticed them when he entered, but then again he was busy trying to avoid the squabling siblings. The concept of arguing with his own sister in public is foreign to him, so E'bert's just going to watch in mute fascination his klah now half forgotten. Do siblings really fight like that? A blink of confusion, and he's taking a small sip of klah which is followed by a slightly less small sip after confirming that the contents of the mug is simply klah. Mayte's wave earns a slight groan of annoyance with himself for not having picked a less obvious place to sit. Means Sadaiya will have noticed him too, though he isn't known to be a recluse. Just painfully shy at times.

"Yet fixed to what. No matter the post, even a mast on a ship might stand upright while it sinks." N'ayl gathers Sadaiya in firmly, somehow young and gay while rakishly exposing his teeth at Zeyta from behind the goldrider's hair, "I've been abroad, Sadaiya. Do forgive my sister's disposition, she'll die alone." Once finally untangled, he pulls straight the front of his shirt to address Mayte, dipping his head for just a moment, regardless of a few mussed strands of hair that fall across his brow, "Forgive me. You must be the newest of goldriders. Mayte, isn't it? Tell me." He positions himself beside her, staring down at Zeyta, "What techinque would you use to bridle willful brownriders?"

Zeyta attempts the visual mow-down, squaring off against the newest weyrwoman to join the ranks of Igen's upper echelon with a slow-simmering glower. A lit fuse, ready to detonate, she stalls her eventual outburst, ramrod straight and stiff as she forces a snarling smile at Mayte, so similar to the wolfish baring of teeth her brother teases her with. Bulldozing along, she throws upraised arms in the air, blotting N'ayl out of sight. "YOU. Do not march in here with. Your…" Too flustered for her usual articulation, she bites her lip, temples bulging. "Half-assed, flirtatious excuse for diplomacy and tear down the professional relationships I built!" A hand slaps down on the bar counter. "Tequila. I want tequila." Poor E'bert — not all siblings argue so, just these highly dysfunctional ones.

Mayte is mere observer on the sidelines to N'ayl and Sadaiya's reunion, watching with bemused amusement. Strange that she's been so quiet so far, but Mayte nods back to N'ayl, then suspiciously as he rounds to her side. Still, she's got a quick reply, "I find a bottle of wine always works wonders." A shrug, and then a mischievous grin, "In one sitting, it usually… goes to the head." Glasses may or not be required. As Zeyta marches to the bar, Mayte waits until the brownrider's out of earshot before blinking in astonishment up at N'ayl, muttering something to him. A tip of her wineglass to the man and she continues: "Yeah, Mayte of Rhiscorath. Well met…" Just so the man can introduce himself to her, and a quick grin at Sadaiya and E'bert. An indicative nod in Zeyta's direction, and Mayte can honestly say, though, "She's got taste in wines, I hear." If you can't find something nice to say, go for something neutral and hope it passes.

You overhear Mayte mutter, "That's … sister?" to N'ayl.

It isn't that E'bert doesn't argue with his sister, it's the public display that has him fascinated. It's something he wouldn't dream of doing, of course it's a well known fact that Zisiene has a highly over protective big brother. So to see siblings arguing in public is a fascination for the younger brown rider. The klah is now cold, but he finishes it anyway. He'd move, and is in fact weighting the advisability of it. Who exactly is Zeyta talking to? It's hard for him to follow, and the empty mug is given an absent-minded sip which has him blinking in surprise at pulling nothing but air. A sigh is given as it becomes obvious he's going to have to move to get a fresh klah, and this will bring him close enough that Sadaiya or Mayte can easily drag him into their circle of conversation. Which of course, now includes N'ayl. He'd much rather sit back and observe for a while though.

With a veer towards the irritable, Sadaiya reaches over and flicks N'ayl's arm with her fingernail. "Be nice to her. Zeyta's important to me!" Her scowl briefly sticks her lower lip out before she schools her expression and, sitting, retrieves her drink. "Charming troublemaker," she murmurs into her glass, a smile creeping back onto her face. "Mmmn, if you get a chance, get one of THESE. I… I'm not even sure what some of these fruits are." Plucking at one of the multitude of toothpicks that make her drink near perilous, she raises it to reveal a purple fleshed piece of fruit. "I mean look at this. It's crazy. I feel guilty just being in the same room as it, but, well…" There's a pause as she gives Mayte a long look and small shrug. "Long day working on, ah, things."

"Two tequila's, Yza, don't neglect me! — She is my other half." N'ayl doesn't sound colloquial any more than he does sentimental - his eyes have a hard unblinking coolness his warm tenor and easy smile do not fully mask, looking through the crowd at Zeyta as though he might ripple off in the form of a panther to stalk her. This same severity remains in place even leaning to the side and opening his mouth for Sadaiya to place her skewered fruit chunk between his bared teeth. "And her tastes could impoverish a minor hold." Somehow, it's complaint and praise in one, "I'm brownrider N'ayl. Of the beast Gudrotgoth." His polished inflection puts a neat savagery to the coarse and throaty name. Poor E'bert? Trying to skate by in silence? N'ayl puts out an arm to encircle him by the back of his shoulders, calling to his sister, "You. You could answer a question for me - is it love of flesh or marks, that will be the final nail in humanity's fastened coffin?"

Zeyta shimmies up into a bar stool, legs dangling. If the image strikes a juvenile or innocent impression, she foils it with a huff and foul mood radiating off her. Her adopted seat places her beside Sadaiya, brow lifted in query. "I don't even drink." Hypocrite, as two tall shot glasses of a clear liquid manifest in front of her. Sadly, the tiny, teeming specimen of fury feels disinclined to share: one, two, she pours the tequila down her throat, slamming each empty glass rim down on the counter. "Marks can buy you even love," she opines, sagely, mollified by the alcohol that leaves her flushed in the face, rosy cheeks bright against her pale, freckled face.

And who is Mayte to get involved in a family debate? She takes a long, bracing mouthful of wine, lets it sit on her tongue for a moment, and swallows before answering, "Well met, N'ayl of Gudrogoth. Are you around for a while?" And then there's an E'bert in the conversation too who gets a sympathetic look. The junior gives Sadaiya a nod but apart from Mayte's lips pursing briefly, she doesn't comment on it. She'll instead watch Zeyta knock those two tequilas back with something akin to admiration. In response, her sip is a little long and maybe Mayte even slurps a little. Tasty. "We have some spare ground weyrs, now that Linny's moved," and from Zeyta to N'ayl to Sadaiya for confirmation, "Even if you're just here for a sevenday or three." Just in case.

E'bert isn't quite sure what to make of being caught up like that. Poor E'bert. Shy until he has observed for a while, goes into a frozen stance. Not that the contact has him all squirmish, well maybe that does factor in? "E'bert, brown Karkath's," he offers. Nice to meet you. Let me go nao? Kaythanks? Help? As for the question asked? E'bert looks towards Zeyta, and devotely hopes it's directed at her because he doesn't have a clue. Certainly he'll answer questions posed to him, but right now he's not likely to volunteer too much information. It's just his quiet way of observe, then engage.. Alas, the only person he knows well enough to not feel overly uncomfortable around is Sadaiya. The klah mug gets refilled, and once again he takes a very small sip. Satisfied it's still alcohol free, there's a slightly bigger sip and he's starting to relax a little bit, "But that's not really love then, is it?" Literal mind our E'bert has, and exactly who he's asking the question of is unclear. Probably Sadaiya.

"After this, you get your own." With a roll of her eyes, Sadaiya daintily feeds N'ayl the purple mystery fruit, withdrawing the toothpick with a slight sigh. "Yeah, you mostly just swallowed those. Drinking involves actually tasting them," she notes, gesturing at Zeyta with the skewer, then swinging it towards E'bert. "Marks buy the ILLUSION of love, which people can find convincing enough for them. Ooh, yeah, we do have space if you're staying. I mean, if you'd like. I can make room if necessary. Set up a cot in here, where the alcohol is, so you can do the improvrishing for once."

"Easier yet, can marks buy an ounce of flesh," N'ayl muses, grinning crooked over a shoulder at the bartender, raising up a finger at whoever mans the counter that not only would he like One Unit of what Zeyta had ordered, but that the tender should be putting the sister's drinks on his own tab. And breaking away to collect his drink - reaching both arms around either side of Zeyta to do so, he then withdraws with a soft peck to the side of Sadaiya's cheek, "You spoil me. But I've a place to stay already." Those arms around Zeyta are GATHERING her backwards to his chest in a manhandled kidnapping. "Gudrotgoth does so love his visits with Kczyslawborth." Gather-gather, STEAL. He'll toss her across the back of his shoulders if he must, but he and sister both are making their exit now. Who else will keep the world of viewing Zeyta at her least controlled? Tsk. This is what a brother is for. "It's been good to meet you. Each of you." And then they are away.

E'bert blinks as he looks towards the door and heaves a sigh. There's a reason he doesn't spend much time away from his weyr when he's not doing drills, or flying sweeps, "Kar," he says as he shrugs away from the group.

You overhear E'bert mutter, "… sharding dragon. … … … … … … … … … …" to himself.

People come in and out, as they are wont to do, leaving kisses and grumbles in equal parts in their wake. Then it's just Mayte and Sadaiya, who, by this point, seems jolly indeed. "Well THAT all happened. So how do you feel now that the graduation's all under your, um, under your way? It's always such an emotional time, especially for us goldriders. Just you wait, lady. You'll start getting sniffles over it, too, in time."

And then there were two. Mayte moves closer to Sadaiya and sips her now half-full wine, grinning a little: "I gotta say, I'm glad it's done with…" There's a little shrug and Mayte sips a little, then huffs a little: "Watching people graduate?" Mayte considers it for a moment, and then nods slowly, "Watching the people who Impress your lifemate's clutches, I suppose," but the young woman doesn't sound entirely convinced. "I would think watching them hatch and Impress would be… pretty big too, right?"

"Of course of course, but no one expects the wave of nostalgia seeing them all grown up." Sadaiya's slur is barely noticeable, but there. "It's a diff'rent… it's a thing, y'know? They're less yours after then. Weyrlings, both dragon and not-dragon, make me feel all protective and cuddly. Actually, it might start, really, when you first fly. That's pretty maudlin. Ahh, you'll have to excuse me. I've been drinking." As if the three glasses hanging out next to her weren't evident. "OH! Yeah! Speaking of flyin' the nest and all those metaphor things… hold up." Frowning, the Senior digs around in her pockets, even peering into her cleavage, before checking her purse and: "Ah! Here. I knew I kept it on me just in case. This is for youuuu." And lo: KNOT PRODUCED. *Zelda treasure noise*

Mayte is listening and nodding and sipping wine, but she gives a little wan grin, "I'm… not sure how I'll feel about that, y'know?" The wine glass is waved a little in abandon, liquid sloshing up the side so legs can trickle back down again, "I mean, I can barely imagine Z… some people as Weyrlings, even you." The wine glass tips towards Sadaiya before it is brought back to Mayte's lips, "but it's different for everyone, I guess." Philosophy and big honkin' glasses of wine don't mix. Or if they do, it's badly. Mayte falls silent, watching the Senior Weyrwoman giving herself a patdown, giggling at the busty-check before eyeing the knot - it's not so much surprise as relief on Mayte's face and a welcome thanks as she reaches for it. Level up! "Thank you, Weyrwoman," Mayte says seriously before cracking a grin, "It's an honour to join Mirage."

"We're honored to have you!" Sadaiya chirps in response, though with less vowel action. "Oh, darling, you'd be shocked at the radical changes in people you'll see with Impression, though Zeyta's… that's a longer story. Not mine to tell, doubt you could get it out of her. I was just around when stuff happened." Suddenly, she finds the contents of her glass just FASCINATING. "Ahem. Anyway, you'll learn. How long is it do you s'pose it is until Rhis goes, ah," she points upwards.

Mayte grins just a wee bit behind her wineglass, but nods a little. Dark eyes brighten briefly at the promise of a good story but Sadaiya's reticience gets an accepting shrug. The question of Rhiscorath's glowingness gets a brief shrug, "She's… not really thinking that way," gets dragged out of Mayte and then maybe some elaboration: "Right now, she's still sort of going through the 'ewww, boys are grody' stage, but," and Mayte huffs a sigh, "She's getting to that age, though, I guess." This seems to be making Mayte a wee bit nervous: "I mean, there'll be warning, right? I know they say each gold's different, but…" She'd hoped, it seems.

"The first time? Ennnnhhh." Sadaiya raises a hand and tips it back and forth. "It does depend. Hopefully there'll be people to let you know if they think it's happening. Of course, she'll get brighter. Might start acting peculiar, eating more, eating less, sleeping a lot. You might start acting, well, like you're about to have ~*your period*~." The last is said in far too loud a whisper with each syllable stretched out. "Just keep your eyes and ears open. When it happens, though, you'll know. It's wonderful, truly. Just keep relaxed and it'll be great."

Alright; Mayte understands human reproductive systems better. She nods and breathes out for a bit, then swallows the last of her wine. The glass is gently placed onto the table and Mayte fiddles with it a little before looking back up to Sadaiya, mouth opening to say something when her eyes cross. As they uncross, the newest Mirage rider looks a little… well, cross: "If you'll excuse me, Weyrwoman Sadaiya," see, she can do politeness, "Rhiscorath is asking for me." AKA, she'd better go. One last salute to Sadaiya, a slightly cheeky grin because that could be Mayte's trademark, and the young goldrider has to put some muscle to leave the Cantina - it's filled up since.


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