Who

Lord Tirvin NPC'd by Staff, Tuck NPC'd by Tyzana, Cly NPC'd by Desmona, Tija, Nenise, Linny, Tyzana, Selaine, Delila, N'tael, Tallarn, F'in, Mayte, Pallurion, Desmona

What

A Gather in Keroon ends poorly for Cly and his rustlers.

When

It is afternoon of the seventh day of the sixth month of the fifth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Igen Protectorate, Keroon Hold

OOC Date 28 Jul 2015 07:00

 

tija_default.jpg nenise_default.jpg linny_default.jpg tyzana_default.jpg selaine_default.jpg delila_default.jpg n-tael_default.jpg tallarn_default.jpg f-in_default.jpg mayte_default.jpg pallurion_default.jpg desmona_default.jpg

"WHERE ARE THE RIDERS."


Award.png

Keroon Awards Ceremony

Sellers of alcohol scatter around the area, plying their wares to anyone who might be interested in buying. Lord Tirvin stands up front, puffed up and looking PROUD of his gather. His cheeks have that healthy red glow that comes from talking way too much, and his voice is pitched too loud. It is possible that he has hit the booze a little bit too much. "GRAND GRAND. Will you look at the tail on THAT one!" Above, upon the platform a large cow is led across the stage so that everyone below can see its nether regions. A large blue bow is tied about the cow, showing it as a truly award winging creature.

Oh, Tija's here. A chance at chaos and mess? It's like this was MADE for the currently-pretending-to-not-be-a-brownrider brownrider. Her hair is half done up on one side, with the other side allowed to hang low and she is exerting her FULL ATTENTION on a group of men who are doing their best to get her drunk and pay to take her home. Incognito as one of Rosie's Girls. But Keroon style.

Nenise was turned loose upon the Gather with the strict instructions to not get underfoot, and to stay out of trouble. So of course, what's the first thing a young woman is to do? Mingle with all sorts of people of questionable degrees of savory-ness. She's behaving, really. Just. Not as well as she probably should. The current group of people the young Trader seems perfectly at home with, as she debates with a smith over the variety of uses gold really has.

The only thing not disguised on Linny is that little baby belly she's so lovingly growing, but that's pretty purposeful, given that she doesn't want to have to be turning away offers of drinks from handsome strangers all night. It's just easier if she puts it out in the open so that she doesn't have to speak, though she's prepared to do that as well. When she does have to for one reason or another, it's with a perfected Nowtime High Reaches' accent, flawless in its execution. The weyrwoman's chosen to go with High Reaches as her inspiration for the night as well, her dress blue and black (OR IS IT WHITE AND GOLD?) with a matching and ornate mask, her typically recognizable hair pulled back and up into a precise messy yet fancy updo. It may be an easy choice for her, given that Linny's former Weyr was High Reaches in the Oldtime, but it's almost too obvious to be obvious.

Shanghaied. That's the only way to explain it. Or laundress-nabbed. Either way, Tyzana founds herself right back where she DOES NOT WANT TO BE. Albeit, she is in a gaggle of laundresses. Right. in. the. middle. And it's sort of dark. So surely she is unrecognizable in such a group? Regardless, she's here with her fellow laundresses', let out for a night o'fun at the gather for a good time. Whatever that is.

"A drink? A Drink?" The sellers wander about, trying to shove their wares on anyone who might be looking for it. Coming across Linny they pause, SQUINT at her belly, and go, "No drink for you!" Because apparently bad grammer exists in Keroon. LAUNDRESS. They like it wet, right? BEELINE. Underage? BEELINE.

Another disguised person among the crowd looks just slightly out of place. Or, uncomfortable, at least, as she, too, goes incognito-like (as much as she can) as one of Rosie's Girls. Selaine's hair, instead of up, is down and loose, draping over her shoulders. She's just going to lean over JUST SO as she shamelessly flirts as well as she can and get these men to drink. And loosen their lips, rather than get her to drink. If she can help it.

Sadly, no one seems to be able to offer Tija quite the right price, so she sweeps away from the men and does her own (oh, a shot, yes please~) beeline towards a familiar face. "SELLY YOU LOOK AMAZING~" Her voice rings out as Selaine gets allll the brownrider's attention. Not-Whores gotta stick TOGETHER.

Lord Tirvin has a glass that is… uh, kinda big. Very big. Someone should tell him that a man of his age really shouldn't drink like that. His gaze passes over the crowd and his eyes fix on Linny. A flash of recognition and the tiniest of nods. They got this.

Delila has on a nice green gather dress and she's slowly makes her way through the crowd. The dress hangs off her shoulders and she is showing a little bit of cleavage, although not enough to mistake her for one of Rosie's girls. She spots Tyzana and waves to her as she makes her way over to the laundress, "Hello Tyzana sorry for rushing out the other night."

As one large cow is led off the stage a big ol' fat big gets pulled up. He CLEARLY does not want to be here as he huffs and tugs at the rope. No. Stage BAD. He'd rather be wallowing. For all his ill temper (watch out for those horns guys…) he is impressive.

"Well, no shit," Linny murmurs under her breath when she's told 'no drinks' for her, still keeping up that Nowtime accent of High Reaches, lips pursing together as she shakes her head. It's unclear just who she's supposed to be. Obviously not a weyrwoman of High Reaches. Maybe some sort of Lady. A fancy proper one. Surely her 'husband' is around somewhere. It doesn't necessarily matter, she still keeps on through the crowd, and when her eyes meet with Tirvin's, she returns his nod with just the slightest inclination of her own head and then she's onto strolling once more.

Tirvin is totaly a creeper though, even with his hair as white as silver. With Lady Setelle claiming to be ~indisposed~ for the evening he is free to be himself! So even though Linny is moving away he's coming closer. Baby belly, nah, that's not a thing. Never stoped him~ "Lady!" He calls out. But not like, 'woman' kind of thing, because CLEARLY she must be blood unknown to him.

As her fellow laundresses squeal and cluster around the seller of the evil wine, Tyzana hangs back. None for her, thank you very much. Rather, she looks around nervously and…blinks. Eyes narrow, gaze peers….why does that person look familiar? Clothing is assessed and eyes widen - perhaps she's seen some of those wardrobe bits before, last wrapped around a firelizard egg. And…is that the trader girl, Nenise? Hand raises, fingers wiggle, before attention is captured by her fellow laundry workers again - and once again she refuses any of the drinks they are plying her with, politely but firmly as if a blinking sign were above her head: Defy corruption!

Well, if someone is going to OFFER her booze, it would be rude to refuse, right? Except, you know. AWAY from the prying eyes of crafter journeymen and their ilk. So yes, when Nenise spots Tyzana and heads for the other girl. The only familiar face she can see, might as well mingle, right? "Heeeeeey, 'Zana." When did the trader-girl give the laundress a nickname? Apparently right now. "Oh come on, if you're not going to drink that give it here. Don't just refuse it." It's…hard to tell if Nenise is joking or not.

The sellers are quite insistant. Tyzana may TRY to hang back and will press their suit. Apparently the order of the hour is to get as many people intoxicated as POSSIBLE.

"Tiiiija. You're looking lovely, yourself!" says the not-greenrider at the approach of the familiar brownrider, Selaine's words drawling just a bit to cover up her native Igen accent. An arm automatically reaches out and links with the other woman's, squeezing lightly. "Isn't she?" she turns to the men and asks before glancing about, spying familiar and not-so-familiar faces. "How about another drink?" she waves one of those sellers over. MORE ALCOHOL.

Those who are drinking though… doesn't it seem strange? There seems to be a distinct LACK of people getting all red faced. And doesn't it all taste just…. a little funny? Like there is something missing. Maybe Lord Tirvin just skimped on the quality?

'Lady' will in fact cause Linny to turn around to see who's looking for her, dark eyes finding Lord Tirvin coming towards her, and although she may inwardly groan, on the outsisde she is perfectly well composed as a lady should be. (So it seems she has been paying attention to how a Nowtime weyrwoman should act; she just chooses not to listen.) "Sir," she properly greets him, hands reaching out to grab at the sides of her dress to pull out slightly as she curtseys before that hand is extended to him. To kiss. "Lady Lia," she introduces herself, and although she wears a mask, there's something in those eyes that begs him to remember to call her that. Even if the rustlers might not know who 'Linny' is, she's not about to risk their in-depth operation.

"SELLY. How could you forget my NAME. TIA." Comeon Selaine. Time for her to get Tija all over her. An arm slips around her shoulders and Tija drops a kiss on her cheek. "SO. I HEARD THAT," and her voice drops to a whisper into selaine's ear.

Tija mutters, "… … … … … … … … lingers … causes me to feel … if there … … … … it … too still." to Selaine.

Fierce scowl is a newly learned expression, but one Tyzana uses to good effect "NO!" That directed toward the persistent purveyor of evil alcohol, before Nenise's approach has her turning. "Hi, Nenise. Are you here alone?" As in, without supervision? Tyzana's looking somewhat shocked, more so when the /younger/ girl suggests she provide her with /booze/! And then another of those newly learned talents makes itself known - this one called 'bossy' "You shouldn't drink, Nenise, it's bad for you and you're too young." Such teetotallary brings a giggle from the other laundresses, who are all quite willing to hand over some of their vice juice to the trader girl, to Tyzana's dismay.

"Lady Lia." Lord Tirvin links his arm in through Linny's, a complete gentleman for the moment. "Such a pleasure to have someone of your beauty here. But where is your Lord?" He looks around as if trying to spot who brought her.

Tyzana also greets Delila as she realizes the greenrider has hailed her. She adds a smile of forgiveness, a shake of her head "You have important things to do. I took no offense." she proffers.

Delila smiles, "Thank you I always hate to leave suddenly like that, but things take precedence sometimes." She says as she gets herself a drink and she nods politely to Nenise, "Hello there, I'm Delila."

"No one is under age~" The sellers are MORE THAN HAPPY to get Nenise alll the drink she wants. She totally looks older than her age anyway. It's a Pern thing.

"He's around," Lady Lia tells him with significance on that last word, whether to indicate that maybe he's involved in another part of what they're about to or or maybe it's just to remind Tirvin that he needs to watch where he puts his hands. At any moment, some masked man could jump out should his hands start to wander. Regardless, Linny doesn't linger on that detail, her hand finding a comfortable spot in the crook of his arm as he leads her around. "Such a lovely Gather. Are you enjoing yourself?" she asks, tilting her head up to cast a look upon him."

"OH I am sooooo silly." And she totally tries to play it off by batting her lashes at the somewhat drunk men. That was a smooth cover-up, right? Uuhhh. Tija's whispering in her ear gets Selaine to GIGGLE. Obviously playing it off. "No!" and she totally does pretty well at looking completely surprised. Though only Tija will only see the slight nod that the greenrider gives her.

"Have we met before?" Is Nenise's question to Delila, before she narrows her eyes at Tyzana. "Of course I'm here alone I'm not twelve." Affronted! But you know, unless Tyzana takes the drink the sellers gave her away from her, well. She's not about to actually argue the point with the other girl. "It's not that bad, y'know." Because she would know, somehow. "I'm Nenise." That's to Delila, cheerfully. "Those are some nice 'beasts, y'know? If my…erm. Person were here, I'd point them out to him." Nice save?

Riders aren't allowed right? Except, uh, someone forgot to tell a the OTHER weyrs that TINY LITTLE FACt. So N'tael is openly wearing his Southern knot on his shoulder as the Southern Invasion begins. His eyes rove around till they fix on some familiar faces. "A'yo!" He calls out as he moves towards the knot of Delila and friends. Looking around CONFUSION settles as he sees Linny on someone's arm, his best friend's mother looking… well, strange, but… It IS LINNY so… He'll just keep casting glances backwards towards her to check that this is normal. Why isn't she wearing her goldrider knot?

Deeper in the shadows, just beyond the the lights of the lanterns the sounds change. Gentle movement of happy caged animals becomes the confused stamp of animals who are being disturbed.

Delila shakes her head, "I don't think so." She blushes a little bit as she tries not to tug up on her dress to cover herself more. "Well thank you. You have nice ones yourself." She says as she takes a long sip of her wine, "Mmm this is very good."

Disappointment writes itself upon Tirvin's face, perhaps… a little more played than it could be. That rustle of movement beyond causes him to grip Linny's arm harder. "Yes, yes… lovely…" Too bad mind reading doesn't work or Tirvin would be trying it right now.

Tyzana isn't going to argue with Nenise - it will only bring attention to her and she's trying to AVOID that. She burrows a little further into the gaggle of laundresses, shaking her head at the trader girl. "Well, I'm not your mother, do what you will." Seems assertiveness is gone for the nonce, though Delila gets a smile before Tyzana's back to looking around - and fending off more of those drink-passer-outers. What /is/ it with them? Don't they know no means no?

"Yeah, well, no one is." The younger girl points out blandly. N'tael gets wide-eyes from the youngest girl of the group when he joins them. She might even go so far as to hide her beverage just slightly. She doesn't know him, he might take it away like Tyzana seems like she might! "You're a rider." It's a statement, but a confused one. Tyzana gets a look. Back-up, here? "You should hide your knot if you don't want the old man to yell at you." Because apparently 'old man' is the appropriate way to refer to the lord holder of the area.

"Seeellllyyyy, YOU HAVE GOT TO LEARN. It is LIKE THIS." And Tija strightens herself up and winks at a man. There's practiced ease in the come-hither movement. And they DO COME HITHER. Too bad Tija's eyes are up and beyond. "SORRY BOYS. THIS WAY SELLY." And Tija will just try to drag her along towards a side area.

Tallarn appears, cleaned up it seems, his usually grimy face surprisingly pale, wide eyes very wide indeed as he takes in the bustling throng of people. He's holding an armlength stick in front of himself and looking aroud hopefully, as if he's searching for someone.

Linny winces lightly as his grasp on her tightens, narrowing her eyes in upon the Lord Holder, and her lips are only angrily pursed together for a moment before she forces her expression smooth, taking a purposefully large deep breath in and out. "The evening is going to be just lovely," she states carefully and firmly, turning her attention straight ahead of them. Which brings about the question, asked in a deliberately flirty (and ever so Nowtime High Reaches) tone, "Sir, where are you taking me? You know I'm a married woman." Beneath that mask, Lady Lia's eyelashes flutter.

See, N'tael, despite behind small, has this FACE. The kind that people LOOK at. Bright blue eyes and all the confidence in the world. Except for a flash of confusion. A glance towards his knot before that smile is back on and he's winking at Tyzana. "Don't worry 'bout it. Ain't lookin' t' be doin' none've 'e bronzer stuff." Unless well, they could make an OFFER. "One of ye want to be DANCIN'?"

"Hello, ladies." The rustic bronzerider has, perhaps, mistaken this for the Masquerade at Southern in a few days and is decked out in fine gather apparel. Freshly shaved, neatly coiffed, sporting a linen duds in a fine gray that sets off his pale eyes. Very much the well-to-do cattleman. Boots, spurs and all. He is F'incognito.

Tirvin leans down to whisper in Linny's ear, wearing the FACE of someone who has no interest in doing anything but making his way OFF with the woman, husband or NOT. He guides her into the darkness as a yell of pain comes up from beyond. "THEY ARE STEALING THE CATTLE!" They, Who? What? The tone of the group changes ABRUPTLY. The sellers of fake alcohol drop their platters and men who were moments ago CLEARLY TOO DRUNK TO WALK spring up. Glows get uncovered and the area of the cattle pens gets cast into sudden light, the faces of rustlers illuminated for anyone to see. Oh, and the cattle are running away. That too.

Palurrion is here. Enjoying himself. A day off from the kitchens, and a chance to go to a Gather? Of course he's going to take advantage of that! There might be an alcoholic beverage or two being imbibed. Maybe more than one or two.

And 'Selly' gets dragged away from the BOYS, doing little finger waves and winking at them as she goes. Keeping up with the act, y'know. 's not like she actually likes it. And then there's another familiar bronzerider face among the crowd. Helloooo F'in.

Delila looks over at the southern rider and she sips her wine, "Yes I've heard that he's not too happy with riders. Although I'm not really sure way." She says as she wasn't here the other day but has heard rumors about what happened. Delila does give a smile and a nod to a couple of men that smile and nod at her.

Or you know, no alcoholic beverages because there's that shout of cattle being STOLEN. Palurrion blinks vaguely after that shout. "What?" Someone stop him if he's not supposed to go investigate. Because, you know.

"Nenise! Show proper respect. He's not an Igen rider. Mayhap the Lord Holder has nothing against uh…" Tyzana peers at N'tael's knot, but is clueless. "Well, other Weyr riders." The bronzerider's wink brings a flush to her face and she nestles a bit further into the crowd of laundresses, the boldest of which - Gandina, a lusty looking wench indeed - pushes forward "I'LL DANCE with you, rider!" Fluttering her lashes up at him, even, which promptly gets a pinch from her friend Merva and of course, this sets ALL the laundresses to arguing about who will get to dance with N'tael first…..

…. or NOT dance, it would seem - there is rustlin afoot.
That pig up on stage? Uh, yeah. Um. So. It's NOT HAPPY. Not with the sudden light and noise increase. He breaks away from his handlers with a squeel and heads straight for the gathered crowds. Bacon anyone?

"I thought we just covered the fact that you're not my mum?" Nenise asks the older girl in a dry voice, before glancing at N'tael. "I'll dance with you, sir." Raises eyebrows at him. Does he really want to deal with the arguing laundresses? But then there's the shouted accussation of someone stealing cattle, and Nenise's eyes widen. "Or rather, you should um, flirt with Tyzana. That one." Tyzana gets pointed at, and Nenise wiggles her way out of the gaggle of laundresses to peer about and see who the rustlers are. That's probably a bad idea. Especially with that pig on the loose, now.

Delila hears the call that someone is stealing the cattle and she breaks away from the others. It would have been nice to dance, but she has a duty to attend to. She does her best to make her way through the crowd to try to find out what's going on. She hikes up her dress so that she can move a little faster and she dodges out of the way of a pig.

And… N'tael is left… confused. Very confused. Uh, what is happening? A thought to Tlazotezath. Kaelidyth would know right? RIGHT.

Or not hi as there's a lot of distractions going around. Including a loose pig! Selaine jumps out of the way, pulling Tija along with her as the creature runs straight towards them, falling and tumbling to the ground. And the greenrider perhaps ending up showing more skin that she would've liked before getting up. Messages are sent and relayed, Selaine eying the other disguised riders in the crowd. GET TO CATCHING PEOPLE.

Lady Lia certainly didn't appreciate being led into the darkness, but it's something she was willing to go along with, for the good of her cover, but with that cry going out, she's saved from Tirvin's advances, but now there's another problem she has to face. She's unsure of how to proceed from here. While she might've been pushing Tirvin away had things gone a different way, now Linny's clinging to him, not wanting to get herself caught up in the fray. But knowing that the Lord Holder may want to leave her side in order to attend to things, she makes sure to force herself to loosen her grasp in case he needs to make a break for it.

Nenise has no business actually wrangling the cattle kidnappers, but well, if some feces get thrown at a few of them who are trying to make an escape, surely that wasn't her doing. She's just trying to paint them, so to speak, as targets. Whether or not that's helping, however…

"I don't have to be your mother to point out it's disrespectful…" Tyzana actually raises her voice to get above the babble of the crowd, but then - THEY - are here and….she pales, clutching at Merva's arm, and almost dives into the middle of the laundresses, who have stopped fighting amongst themselves and are now straining to see over taller heads, shrieking with excitement at all the new GOSSIP they are going to have to chew over in the coming days.

One of the rustlers attempts to flee the scene of escaped cattle, only to have one of the others push him, causing him to fall face first onto the ground. Not only that, one of those scared cows manages to kick him in the head as it attempts to push through it's brethren. "Shards…!" he yells out, just as one of the disguised bronzerider jumps over that fence and pulls him up, pulling both hands behind his back using sheer strength. Around them, others disguised are catching some of the other rustlers trying to flee.

"WHERE ARE THE RIDERS." Angry Tirvin replaces want-to-touch-your-butt Tirvin as the rustlers begin to regroup. But they're SMART. Instead of trying to escape right away they begin to crash the hastily erected gates and more animals escape. It's chaos, with creature and person everywhere and it's kinda hard to figure out who the bad guys are… Probably the ones that look like they haven't bathed in a while.

It's like a switch just gets turned, and N'tael who was just here to dance and have fun is suddenly GONE. "The stage," he nods towards it, "You might be safe there." And then he's running towards where he last saw his best friend's mother heading into the darkness. DON'T WORRY. 5'3" WILL HELP YOU.

Some of those rustlers really actually don't like feces getting thrown at them. But that's not going to stop them from breaking a few more gates down.

"Tyzana," F'in calls. Tall girl, she's visible amidst the squawking throng of hens that are the laundresses. And some actual hens. Those're some good looking chickens crabbling and squawking and darting to and fro underfoot! Moving quickly, a rope thrown here, a bridle snatched there, rustlers make short work of snaring two prize fillies and are hustling away with them as a compatriot rides up, dirt flying from the hooves of his runner shouting something intent and intense to the two holding the fillies with some difficulty, rearing and shying as they are amidst the chaos. "Tyzana!" In case she hadn't heard.

In guise as a bedraggled Vintner apprentice, Mayte is watching carefully from behind a stand that she was helping to 'man'. But what is a Vintner apprentice doing without a knot? She's watching from beneath damp and curled hair, glaring at a bunch of 'we're totally not dragonriders' attendees of her stand but once Tirvin's shout goes out, whatever she was serving goes safely into the back and hair is tossed back. AND PIG. What? No one said pig with wine was a great combo. In the confusion of 'totally not dragonriders' suddenly standing up, Mayte watches at least a pig dash past before shouting at her stand-mates: "Go! Catch them!"

There are a few rustlers who are not exactly smart. They're going to try to mill around in the confusion, filching things as they pass by stands and such. Unfortunately, one industrious and brave denizen spots this and shrieks, "THIEF!" which is not the worst they've been called. Again, not exactly smart: these rustlers freeze in place, as if humans only saw movemnt.

Delila spots two of them that had grabbed the fillies and she goes after them. She does her best to run up on them and she goes to kick one of them in the back of the knee. It's a hard straight kick designed to incapacitate. "Let those fillies go."

As name is called, Tyzana at first things that it's one of the rustlers or - heaven forbid, THE rustler…or his second. So instead of turning toward that voice she ducks down amidst the laundresses - and is almost trampled when they all run shrieking toward the now-empty stage at the advice of N'tael. Leaving her squatting in the dirt with her hands over her head. No longer SAFE. She stands, and is about to flee as far as her long legs can take her, when she sees a familiar bronzerider. Her savior. Her HERO! "F'IN!" is practically shrieked, in best possible imitation of the gaggle of laundresses, and she almost flings herself against him "They're here they're here they're here…." As she does so, one of the rustlers catches sight of her and - "Hey! Someone go tell Tuck his ballbuster is here!

A Lady she may be, but she's also quite unhelpful. This pregnancy certainly has put a kink in any sort of significant part that Linny can play, but given her height, it's probably best she stays out of the fray anywhere. There are many burly dragonriders who are much stronger than her, better able to get involved. Linny stays in the darkness, even as Kaelidyth threatens to drop down right in the center of the Gather in order to protect her lifemate. As if there's no enough chaos going on right now. But thankfully, there's a semi-familiar face heading her way, and the masked Lady is instantly relieved and headed towards him, hands outreached. "N'tael, are you okay?"

Chaos continues to reign as cattle, runners, and people all commingle into a teeming mass of panic, rage, and in some cases pain. The noise is deafening, between the bawl of cattle, the squeal of that silly pig, and the shrieks of the women. The riders best get busy if they want to catch them some rustlers, who are doing a fairly good job of escaping the 'trap' that had been set for them.

Out in the crowd are some braver rustlers, some punks who think they know what's what, that think they can take on dragonriders. They're wirey, they're fit, and what do those fat and condescending dragonriders have going for 'em? At a lull in the pig-caused panic, one rustler sneers at a stout man who doesn't seem to be running, and takes a swing… which lands! And then what? The stout man, a blue-rider from Igen in fact, looks back up, not even clutching at his jaw and swings back. And it's on - fights break out between rustlers and riders, and rustlers and those who might fancy themselves brave enough. In fact, some of those braver fanciers find themselves exchanging a couple of riders, in the chaos that's ensuing. Worse than the pig.

Tirvin's face is growing redder by the moment, "This was not the arrangement." Possibly spittle. Sorry, Lady Li— oh, who are we kidding? Sorry, Linny. "You promised to bring everyone." Cue Gary Oldman, "EVERYONE!" He spins away from Linny who has turned from him regardless. "Worthless. WORTHLESS!" He stomps away and shouts for his guard who are — it happens — also disguised amongst the crowd, shedding their disguises to add yet another layer of chaos to the devolving fray.

F'in's head whips around at the call from one of the rustlers naming 'Tuck.' His lip curls and an arm goes around Tyzana. "Stick close." He was going to send her and the other laundresses away, but he can't protect them if they're scattered. "Watch my back." The bronzerider stoops to pick up a bit of railing, spurs of his boots jangling as he straightens and starts carving a way through the crowd to the man who hollered for Tuck.

Mayte isn't about to let this fight go down with a bit of resistance. Hair is caught and stuffed behind her head into a rough knot and she takes a very conveniently placed bat from under the bar to defend the wine. And perhaps swing at a couple of knees that don't look familiar.

But sure enough, some of those rustlers, especially the not-so-smart ones, are getting caught. Some running straight into some of those disguised riders that hover around the edge of the Gather, and then promptly tied up and hauled away. Selaine looks on in horror as riders and rustlers fight. There's even a groan for anyone around who might hear her as Lord Tirvin's men join the chaos. There's more orders, though OBVIOUSLY some of the riders don't listen to their Wingsecond as swings are still being thrown. She's none so lucky as some of the others as to have a bat handy, but she gets in toward the edge, one leg strategically stuck between a pair, causing both to fall. "Tie him up!" she yells to the brownrider, throwing some ropes at him as she continues on through.

How did this turn into Linny's fault? Somehow or another, of course it is, and the poor weyrwoman is left to face Tirvin's wrath just moments after he was probably going to cop a feel. With everything out in the open, the weyrwoman rips off her mask, and pregnant belly or not, she's about to get involved, storming into the mess, grabbing riders left and right and pointing them in different directions. If someone's got to take charge, it might as well be her, even if she's not quite sure what she's doing. "You! YOU, go over there, and YOU, c'mere. You're going over there!" Is it working? Is her delegation to your satisfaction, Tirvin?! Probs not.

Delila punches the other rustler in the mouth and she goes to grab the reins and she tries to lead the fillies away from the rustlers. Kyara's lessons are really coming in handy. It seemed like a good idea at the time as she tries to get away without having to fight anyone else.

A bellow of rage rises above the general noise - impressive coming from such a small man. Tuck has gotten the word. He wants revenge. Task at hand - that of stealing the prize cattle and runners and sundry livestock and/or getting out without being captured - is forgotten. He shoves his way through the crowd "Where is that bitch?" The snarl comes as he punches a fleeing woman right in the face; yeah, that's the kind of guy he is. "WHERE IS THAT BITCH?"

Stay close? No problem there. A leech couldn't burrow closer than Tyzana to F'in's back as she hurries after him, sending fearful glances into the crowd as fingers grasp the cloth of his shirt to maintain contact. The bellow has her cringing, and the rage-borne words that follow bring terror to the forefront, rife in her expression. And then her own rage saves her from turning into a puddle of fear on the ground. Blood begins to boil. Bitch is she? He'll see how much of a bitch she can be! The laundresses, of course, have got a ringside seat, safe on the stage, to absorb as much of the fray as possible; oh, the gossip is going to flow!

While she answered to Lady earlier in the evening, now Linny's answering to another name. As she finishes sending the rider scattering, she pulls a single pin out from her hair which sends dark curls flowing down around her, a very typical smirk tugging her lips upwards. While she may have been cowering in fear earlier, now Linny's standing tall in her High Reaches colors, though now at least she drops the fake Nowtime accent. The crowd seems to clear, and there little pregnant Linny stands, pleased and proud as punch. And while that is a noun, it might very well be a verb here in a little bit as she sends a coy little wave over to Tuck. "Hiiii. Looking for me?"

Delila is doing her best to get the prized fillies back and at the same time keep them away from the bandits. "Get back!" She tells everyone who even looks like a bandit. She has her hands full with the reins as she's trying to lead both of the fillies back to safety.

As he is often wont to do, Tallarn is standing as still as a statue in the midst of all the chaos, eyes skinned wide, stick held aloft.

Mayte is looking a bit more ceremonial than some jumped-up apprentice with a bat-in-hand as she moves through the crowd. At least one Oasis dude has figured out that Mayte's looking for a fight and trailing behind her to intercept anything which earns him a glare but he's unapologetic. And finally they're up to some structure and Mayte can see Linny, long enough so she can shout, "What the fuck are you doing?" She may not have seen Tuck punch another woman in the face but there's something about that man. But who's got the bat? Mayte swears and starts moving in Linny's direction, except that's when the fighting gets thicker in her area and Mayte has to duck a couple of punches… from holders. Go figure.

Tuck is obviously surrounded by bitches - though the one he was actually looking eludes him, another has come in her stead. Linny gets a sneer as he stalks toward her. "You ain't the bitch I'm looking for, but you've got the look of /Igen/ about you" He spits as he says the name of the Weyr, his hatred obvious. A body stumbling in front of him is backhanded out of way as he veers toward the goldrider. "You look like a prime piece. Mayhap I'll steal you for myself. Better than that skinny bitch anyday."

Riders vs. rustlers, with bad decisions being made all around. It's chaos. The sort of madness in which the low down dirty thrive, especially ones smart enough to not be making damn fools of themselves. Cly's weathered face is twisted into a grimace at all the commotion Tuck is making, half hidden by a windscarf as he ducks through the crowds, awful spry for a man his age. His sharp gaze is on the look out, bouncing from one prized beast running to the next, but unable to stop and snatch any of them. Gotta keep movin', or he's dead in the water. He alters his course with a leap over an upturned barrel, sharp blue eyes locked on dark curls and bronze skin.

There's just a slight look up towards Mayte after her call down to her, but don't worry, Linny's got this all under control. After all, it's all part of her plan. Part of her fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants plan, but it's still a plan. Linny will distract Tuck, and she's got someone very special in place to take the man down. All of that yelling and placement earlier was part of the PLAN. There's no quaking or shaking as Tuck approaches her, Linny continues to stand there unwavering and smiling as she gazes up at him with wide eyes. "Are you saying I'm not skinny?" is the very first thing that comes into her mind, please do forgive her vanity, but the weyrwoman actually appears affronted by the comment. There's a brief flicker of her eyes over as she sees her knight in shining armor coming to her rescue. All hail F'in! But now Linny really has to distract Tuck in order for this to work out, and so she turns the power of those dark eyes of hers upon him, turning on the charm and flirting to an eleven. "When you steal me, what are you gonna do with me?"

There's a crowd of Dustbowl Cantina bouncers who've just been waiting for this - but like any bouncer, they know better than to wade in when the battle is fresh. They wait a few long moments, flexing their joints, popping neck and fingers until there's some noises that resemble tired grocery bags hitting each other, but with more flesh, and then they wade in, dispersing to crack rustlers and a few mis-placed holders onna head. Sadly, this means they totally miss seeing Cly dart past them.

Delila wishes Mai was here at the moment she's know what to do. She turns the fillies away from trampling on a person and she looks around as she tries to find a spot to stop so she can calm them.

Tuck is the poster boy for BAD DECISIONS today, it seems. But then, what do you expect when you've only got one ball left? He's only half the man he used to be and the half that's left is all hate and lust - right now, it's the lust that's winning out. His gaze slimes its way up and down Linny's form as he moves ever closer. "Not bad. No beanpole like Cly's get, but your shape's pleasin. Except for that baby belly your sporting. We'll be sure to get rid of that right off. I don't want no other man's leavins." The how of that 'ridding' isn't explained, but it's likely self-explanatory. "As for what you'll be doin, you'll be warmin my bed." Expression lascivious, he has completely lost sight of /where he is/ and /what he should be doing/. But then, he always did let the little brain lead the way. It's why he never rose to the same level of power wielded by Cly. He's closed in on the goldrider now, and his grimed hands reach for her "Let's see what else you got under that clo-"

F'in hollers at Delila as the gaggle of laundresses trail in his wake, "Get 'em to the coralls!" The riders of Igen are fit and fed and not particularly trained for this, spending their strength freely. Thankfully the Igen Bouncer Union, Local 43 is on site to wade in and crack (mostly correct) skulls. F'in's path is cleared without much regard for who he's shoving aside as he makes a line for Tuck who has zeroed in on Linny. The bronzerider catches the flicker of Linny's look and tightens his grip on the rail in his hands, lifting it, teeth baring as he brings it down on the join of Tuck's neck and shoulder, cutting the rustler Lieutenant's smarmy diatribe off with a loud CRUNCH wood splintering with the force of F'in's follow through.

The scrawny man standing in the midst of the chaos as it whirls around him flinches at the meaty thwack of fists meeting flesh. Unkinking from his curl he lifts up onto toes peering over the melee to find someone, brow knit with deep concern. He paces along, popping up here and there, searching, searching, searching. Eyes sooo wide. He spots Delila and her saved fillies and hears the hollering of the bronzerider who he flinches away from. He tugs on Delila's sleeve and points. The corrals.

Tuck is felled, indeed. Without another word, he drops like a stone to the ground, out cold at the very least.
Delila looks over at F'in and she nods as she looks around for the corrals. She feels the tug on her sleeve and she almost kicks the scrawny man in the face. She spots the corrals that he's pointing too, "Oh thank you so much now be careful." She says as she heads to the corrals with the fillies in tow.

Tyzana is watching F'in's back, yes she is. As he forges through the crowd toward Tuck, she's clinging - but she's not helpless. No, rage has pretty much lent her some kickass, because any time someone comes close to the bronzerider, friend of foe, she's shoving or kicking them back. The kitten, it seems, has claws. When he stops and swings, she is right there to see the board connect with the side of Tuck's head. Which brings on a smile of stunning joy. "Ha!! Take that, you smarmy sandsnake!" When Tuck falls, she actually claps. And then, goes about ridding him off the other ball. That's right. She's kickin the man while he's down. Payback is the REAL bitch here.

While the bouncers and other riders miss Cly, Selaine's keen eyes (despite the ensuing chaos) spies his darting figure, slyly trying to weave through fist fights and the like. Her gaze narrows as she pinpoints her vision on him, recognizing him only as another rustler. Sneaky sneaky. Her smaller form goes between the crowd, pushing people carelessly aside. All the while, she attempts to make eye contact with one of those bouncers nearby. HEY YOU. Finally one sees her and she jerks her chin toward Cly's retreating form. Understanding, the bouncer gets another pal to attempt to intercept Cly's path as Selaine gets ever closer from behind.

Linny's a good actress and able to play interested in Tuck, but his talk about what to do with her pregnancy has her face falling into a mixture of rage and devastation, for all she knows that it's not in her future. F'in's in her future, and thank Faranth for that, and as he comes towards them, she waits until the very last possible second and moves out of the way, lest she get hit in all of the chaos. With the man down and on the ground, Linny lets out a large sigh of relief, allowing a smile to overtake her face as she turns that look upon her rescuer. "Excellent job, bronzerider," comes her praise, being deliberately formal and sassy, but the victory can't last too long before the weyrwoman starts looking around again to see what else needs to get done, easily stepping back in and taking charge. "Someone tie up this asshole," gets tossed back to no one in particular, referring, of course, to Tuck.

A trap. A fuckin' trap. Anger fuels Cly's movements, a cold fire behind his eyes as he slams his way through the crowd. Hearty from hard work on the plains, he barrels through, mind no longer racing— he can't afford it. Not if the man is willing to find an ounce of profit in this shit-show. It's with an animal-like precision that he strikes, earning himself a fistfull of dark curls and a vicious hold on Desmona's arm. Her scream cuts through the noise, only to be drowned out again by the cacophony of fists on flesh and splintering wood. There is no gloating, no triumph, only hard hatred in his eyes as Cly gives a sharp yank and muffles any further cries for help— slowed but not by much in his attempt to escape. In his single-mindedness, he doesn't notice the attention he's drawn.

Bat at the ready, Mayte is trying to work her way over to where Linny and Tuck stand off but she's seized by her Oasis idiot and dragged away from the depth of the fighting. Whatever his name is gives an apologetic look before moving back into the fray and Mayte would steam there gently (or violently) but she's distracted by a cut-off scream - looking over, Mayte's eyes widen at the sight of Desmona next to Cly - and she doesn't look too willing. Mayte grits her teeth and hauls back to launch her bat in the assaulter's general direction, and as beginner's bat-throwing luck would have it, her weapon actually ricochets off of something before it does reach Cly, knocking him out. If Desmona got in the way of Mayte's bat bouncing off of Cly… oops. Another Bouncer from the Cantina, fat and even smarter than to get into the fight before the cards are down (or more wise and cowardly) actually supplements everything by falling onto Cly, pinning him. Mayte is moving after her bat but spots Selaine: "Wingsecond! Tie that one up!"

An unknown to Cly, Selaine is also one that hears Desmona's scream, eyes widening at the sight of the woman she's saved once before. "Shards!" she curses, speeding up her chase, not knowing Mayte's seen or heard. Until she sees the bat flying through the air to clobber Cly right in the head after bouncing off of one those posts sticking around the Gather. The Wingsecond pauses, throwing a glance over to the goldrider before continuing on and finally reaching both the knocked out Cly and Desmona. "On it!" she yells back to Mayte, leaning down and pulling free a rope from somewhere and proceeds to tie him up. "Are you ok?" this directed towards Desmona. She didn't quite see if she got any recoil from that bat.

<Igen Weyr> Rhakanth senses that: Kaelidyth lets out a loud, triumphant bugle from where she was hidden throughout the Gather, officially calling the dragons to come on out and get them. Those damn dirty apes. Rustlers. Damn dirty Rustlers. « Now! Get them now! »

The laundresses are positively a cheering squad up there on the stage, since it looks as if riders and holders will win the day against the rustlers. Each time a rustler gets pummeled, thwacked, or trussed, they clap and squeal. All they need are pompoms, short flirty skirts, bobby socks and pristine tennies and they are ready to cis boom bah their way to victory!

<Igen Weyr> Rhakanth senses that: Amazolith bugles loudly as she comes out of her hiding space, « Finally let us get them! »

F'in's lip curls as he stands over Tuck, pale eyes gone gray and slatey, shattered remnants of the rail in his hands, dropped now the ground. Tyzana's rage and her covering of his back, aided by the laundresses who are by turns crying and flinching away from or clawing at anyone who comes close, instinctively huddling together. At Kaelidyth's cry his head comes up watching as the dragons of Igen fill the sky with the thundrous cracking from ::Between::. Pairing off, the riders fall on fleeing rustlers who are now turning from brawls to escape.

The panicked cries and bawling of animals — the best specimens in Keroon — are everywhere. Loose. Tirvin, flanked by a quartet of guards, stomps up to the gathering around the goldriders craning his neck to look up at the dragons aloft. "FINALLY." Worthless riders.

CRACK. It's an audible sound, Mayte's bat against the back of Cly's head. Desmona's eyes grow wide as she watches the now-split wood spin and— smack! Right in the eye. As the man drops, his weight dragging her down, both of her hands fly up to her face, both to shield and inspect the damage. It's not like Desmona to look hysterical, lovely gather dress caked in mud as she scrambles for distance between her and the prone body of her husband. There's a wince as the Bouncer falls on him, tears mingling with the faint trickle of blood as the woman hyperventilates. That'd be Selaine's answer— tears and heavy, hitched breathing.

"Oh dear." is Selaine's reaction to the poor woman, face tear-stricken and lined with blood. Once Cly's nice and tied up, Selaine gets another - bulkier - rider to come grab him and haul him away while Selaine tends to Desmona, ushering soothing words as she calls a dragonhealer, healer. Anyone! In the meantime, the greenrider attempts to assist her, getting her up and moving her away from the bulk of the chaos, even pulling out a handkerchief to offer her and help her wipe away some of that blood.

Delila finally gets the fillies into the corral witht he others and she looks around to see what she can do to help. Her dragon appears with the others and Delila stays by the corral and looks around to make sure none of the rustlers are going to try to steal any more.

Tyzana kicks Tuck once more for good measure, breathing heavy and expression triumphant. And….worshipful. That's right. If F'in hadn't hit hero status before tonight, he's certainly clinched the title now. Arms are flung around the bronzerider's neck again and he gets a kiss, a big ole smack on the lips, from the newest laundress - whether he wants it or not. Which, considering he's kind of like a statue made of steel, is likely the latter. But it doesn't stop her, not at all. Only the continued excitement of the hubub, now being corraled by dragons and their riders, has her letting loose. And then she kicks the downed Tuck again and, for good measure, spits on him. Then it occurs to her that there's another piece of shit out there that needs a takedown. "Where's Cly? Did he get away?" Head swivels and toes tip as she tries to see through the still chaotic mess.

Not knowing what else to do, Tallarn trails along beside Delila, helping her corral the scared fillies. He points at a rustler fleeing who, confronted with Amazolith, skids to a halt, the pair of runners whose bridles he had rearing and shrieking so suddenly they rip the lead from his hand and he's there. Alone. Facing off with a dragon. He slowly puts his hands up. The runners? The runners are hauling ASS away from the dragon. Right towards Delila and Tallarn.

Does Selaine want to be clung to? Because this is how Selaine gets clung to. Desmona's well groomed nails are biting into her clothes by the time she's escorted away, cut above her eyebrow dribbling a deceptive amount of blood into her already crying eye. Cly is all but forgotten, despite the fact that he's the source of such hysteria, as a healer manages to make his way through. In which Selaine will be promptly abandoned in favor of a strong, male presence. Luckily, Mayte has not blinded her, but no doubt she'll have a nasty black eye for a seven or two. Still, for all of her trauma, the young woman has come out of it in much, much better shape than her (ex) husband. No doubt the Hold will be even less kind to the ol' dusty rustler.

When Selaine takes charge of Cly, Mayte darts to Desmona. It's only a trickle of blood leaking from under the yougn woman's hands before Mayte is shouting for a healer, turning her head so as not to shout in Desmona's face, echoing Selaine's call. And then, Kaelidyth is calling the dragons in and Mayte stares briefly at a healer come to help the greenrider and personal assistant. Then she's stepping aside, the healer fussing, so Mayte can growl at the guard, "Don't get off him. Make sure he's out before you move him," so the junior can stomp through where there was fighting (and still the occasional heavy weights duking it out a little). This carries her close to Tyzana and she grunts, "He's down." That's all before she swerves off to check on Delila briefly, eyeing Tallarn brefly. To Delilah, Mayte nods over her shoulder: "Get Amazolith ready to take some prisoners back."

Delila isn't sure what to do either but she's glad that her dragon scared away the rustles. She waves her arms up in the air and tries to get the runners into the corral, "That way…into the corral!" She shouts as Amazolith stares down the Rustler until Delila is free to come get him. "In a momoment…" Delila says to Mayte.

The relief that Mayte's words bring is palpable and Tyzana sends her a beaming smile. She also looks like she might go and find Cly and give him some kicks too, but at that point the other laundresses surround her, squealing and jabbering in excitement about /the kiss/. Which is good, because she doesn't really want to explain why she seems to have such a mean streak as regards the man at their feet.

F'in's lips are indeed indifferent, focusing on the fallen form of Tuck. And then, Cly. He is not unaware of what's transpiring around them, the shouts, calls, cries. His hand whips out and latches onto Tyzana's pulling her away from here 'ministrations' to Tuck, "Enough."

Tyzana sends a pout F'in's way as she's pulled from amidst the gaggle of laundresses, but she nods. "Yes Sir. I was finished with him anyway." Tuck, that is. Except for the occasional glare, maybe. She listens to her friends' jabbering, but only with half an ear. Because, yeah. F'in is HOLDING HER HAND!

Tallarn raises his hands, the Talking Stick still held in one of them, somewhat like the surrendering rustler but he waves his hands back and forth at the runners and they — miraculously — between Delila and the drudge decide that the enclosure with other runners, not dragons is the place to be. The drudge's fists ball and he makes a little hop… triumphant, a grin splitting his face at Delila. YAY! His attention yanks around at the arrival of more guards hauling rustlers. Dragging bodies. Some groaning. Some not. More dragons.

There's not even a moment of pause. Tensions are still running high, adrenaline is still coursing and Mayte snaps back, "It's weyrwoman, wingrider." A quick look at two runners heading their way and Mayte's face changes from annoyance to worry to anger - to borrow a phrase, she can't be having this: imitating Delila, Mayte makes herself as large as she can (okay, it could be easier if she was about five inches taller), and trying to make an easy path for them into the corral. And afterwards, she is dusty and tired and flecked with blood that is not her own - and Mayte goes home, grumpy and ready for a glass of something hard and cold.

Delila yahs as the runners get corralled in with Mayte's help and she gives Tallarn the kind of hug that would crush the stuffing out of a teddy bear. She sags as she lets him go and she looks to Mayte, "Okay I'll go help with the rustles now." She says as she makes her way over to the one that Amazolith is watching with some rope, "Okay put your hands behind your back."

Tyzana is staying right where she is. Safest place to be, right there by F'in if her opinion means anything. She watches the chaos ebb away around her and sighs. Then smiles. And /enjoys/ the sensation of freedom, true freedom, that settles over her. However, the moment is brief. The laundresses with which she came have all been reuinited and are tugging her away, urging her toward the area being cleared for those waiting to be taken back to the Weyr. She has time only to say something soft and low to F'in and then she's gone, adrift in a sea of laundresses.

Tyzana mutters, "…" to F'in.

F'in turns to look out over the wreckage of the Gather. Riders, scraped up, expressions in the wake of the brawl as varied as themselves. They are not trained for this. They are, however, trained to protect their weyrwomen and peel off to follow in Mayte's wake. Escort. Delila, Selaine and others take charge of rounding up the rustlers. F'in lifts a chin at a handful of riders nearby to stay with Linny. Barked orders from the Weyrwoman are hopped to, rustlers collected and healers directed to see to the many wounded. Tirvin stomps up, "These are my people, Weyrwoman!" He practially spits her title. Linny is in no mood, apparently, to even countenance the irate Lord Holder with a response. Tirvin points at a Healer who has come up to examine F'in's hands — lots of splinters. "You!" The healer flicks a glance up at F'in who is staring now at Tirvin. The Journeyman then looks at Linny, where she stands barking orders and pointing. With lips pursed, the healer stays just where he is. Ignoring Tirvin.

Tirvin grumps and bends over the prone and tied form of an insensate Cly. "We got you, scum." Yeah. Good work, Tirvin. Good work. Cly also ignores Tirvin. Unconscious and all. And a good thing too… Tirvin needs all his attention for what comes next. He is embattled as furious breeders descend on him in a shouting group, shaking fists and bellowing about the value of the creatures who are fled or dead. The guards are keeping the most animate of them away, but the shouting group harries the Lord Holder away. Lord Tirvin is not pleased. But then, when is he ever? And, as the sun sets in a glory of gold and red and orange flung far over the plains, all is… not well exactly. Shouting. Bleeding. Running animals. That pig managed to get away and has made a MESS of the buffet. But… back to normal.

Another day at Igen.

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