Who

Willimina, Dinsayde, Marcellus, Tallel, Dustin, Sienna, E'bert, Fasai, Veresch, NPC's: Zesiene, Dayne, Esmara, Celesti, Ethelinda, Callibum

What

The second day of the Zingari Festival starts out with brawls and dancing!!

Contains: mild profanity, sexual themes, some dubious content

When

It is 4:44 PM where you are.
It is afternoon of the tenth day of the seventh month of the second turn of the 12th pass.
In Igen:
It is the seventieth day of Summer and 120 degrees. It is hot. Hot, hot, hot. Rukbat bakes the desert. Temperatures soar.
In Southern:
It is the seventieth day of Winter and 42 degrees. Still dark and overcast, the winter rain has picked up and become heavier, albeit still pleasant.
In Southern Mountains:
It is the seventieth day of Winter and 7 degrees. It's really damn cold out.

Where

Igen Caravan Grounds

OOC Date

 

willimina_default.jpg dinsayde_default.jpg marcellus_default.jpg Tallel7.jpg sienna_default.jpg e'bert.jpg fasai.png veresch_default.jpg

igencaravangrounds.jpg

Igen Caravan Grounds

Deep grooves in the hard packed earth criss-cross a large patch of denuded ground, bearing mute testament to the caravans that frequent this area. Despite the midden holes set back a ways from the main center of traffic, the air is sweet, redolent with the sagebrush that forms a loose perimeter around the flattened expanse. In what is as close to its center as the vague boundaries suggest, a stone ringed fire pit has been dug and surrounded with the odd log or two, ash overflowing from its darkly blackened core.

It is the seventieth day of Summer and 120 degrees. It is hot. Hot, hot, hot. Rukbat bakes the desert. Temperatures soar.


Timor: moon5.jpg
Belior: moon8.jpg


As it did yesterday (icly), The Zingari camp opens it's doors to the Weyr and all around to help them celebrate The Zingari Festival of Life. Being the second day, Caravans are arrivaing from all over Pern to merge together and make all those arranged marriages the Zingari are so fond of. As one enters, one may notice serious haggling going on between irate or mild mannered Zingari mamas. In one section of the camp, a giant stage has been built, on which, several plays will be acted out throughout the day and night. A dance floor has been erected around the main central fire, where people can stop outside the guard rail and watch the Zingari dancer perform. Another, smaller, stage has been put up where Zingari musicians can show off their skill. Despite not wanting the hassle, a few of the knife throwers have set up an area to show off skill, but its not the grand display the Zingari usually put off, no, today is for the finer arts. The merchants amongst the Zingari call out their wares and prices, trying to attract customers as the Zingari food vendors begin to leak savory, delightful smells all over the camp. Fire dancers and Illusionists roam the crowd, along with Zingari Teen girls, selling flowers for the ladies and Zingari belts for the men. All is a hustle and bustle. So come on in, enjoy the fair and beware those greedy Zingari mamas!

Dayne, one of the many Zingari knife throwers, is already at his post, setting up racks of different sized, shaped and balanced knives, along with several targets. His young Zingari apprentices rush about, painting the marks on the targets, making sure that dull knives are sharpened and that everything is where Dayne and the other knife throwers need them. From the array of blades, it looks as if it may be quite the display, despite the Caravan leader's orders. Dayne had told Willa that he'd take care of it so she didn't have to. And so here they are. As one of the target lines is ready, Dayne begins throwing practice shots, warming up for the larger crowd to come later.

Esmara has already set up her table, with long violet silk table cloths and braziers burning with insence. She lays out her cards, intent on reading fortunes for the first part of the day. She greets the customers calmly as they mill about the grounds, using a soft voice full of mystery to pull them in, but it's early, it's only after people are far into their cups that Esamara becomes busy, too many are skeptical sober.

Celesti dances through the crowd. She begins to show off her new forming fire skills, but mostly, she gets cozy with the men, and maybe relieves them of a few of their marks. She's an etheral being moving through the crowd, a glimpse of Zingari beauty in a sea of Zingari faces.

Zingari guards ring the encampments, keeping things civil and keeping their eyes peeled for schemers and murderers, it is no secret the Zingari have suffered too many attacks in their past. A couple of fist fights breaks out between suitors, but the guards have it handled quite quickly.
Sienna is here for the dancing, dressed in a modest skirt and tunic combo that is mostly nowtime design but with some oldtime flair. Getting herself a drink, she heads for the dancefloor.

Marcellus can see the fanfare from the road as he makes his way, seated in his wagon, to the caravan grounds. One arm raises languidly to shade his mocha eyes from the glaring rays of rukbat. There's no doubt he's found the mother caravan now. The bright Zingari colors and banners waving merrily in the wind are enough to confirm that! He whickers to his runner who picks up to a trot, eager to be at rest at last. Traffic in to the grounds is a bit congested, but he eventually makes it through. He's in the middle of wondering just how many Zingari make up the mother clan, when he starts noticing banners between the encampments, all with Zingari colors, but all with different crests. His face goes pale. It's the blasted marriage festival…He grumbles under his breath about greedy mamas and what they can do with their prissy daughters. He's still within the allowed mourning period for his family, still truly in grieving to be sure, so he's no patience with this festival this year. However, if he is to become part of the mother caravan, he must sift though all of this and find it's leader.

"I'm not sure about this," E'bert grumbles. He really isn't. Crowds? Yeah, no. He doesn't like them, and his hand goes to his belt pouch at the slightest of bumps. Satisfied, the rider continues on into the crowd pausing to watch the knife throwing warm up. Turning to look at the dancing for a short time, and finally arriving at one of the food stalls where he orders a small snack and something to drink. The drink is given a very careful sip before a slightly larger sip is taken. It isn't that he's suspicious (he totally is) so much as he's doing his best to avoid alcohol.

Willimina steps out of her wagon, fresh and washed and ready for her day. She tucks her hair behind her ears and takes a deep cleansing breath. Today she'd be on display all day, and between performances, dealing with an inner caravan issue. She shakes her head, nope, not gonna think about that right now. But…Tallel…nope. Focus Willa. She squares her shoulders and smooths the folds of her revealing dress (http://harpers-tale.wdfiles.com/local--files/character%3Awillimina/ZingariGarb_5.jpg) and starts walking for the dance floor at the bonfire, her stage for the night. She tags her musicians on the way. She enters the dance floor and does her stretches as the musicians warm up.

Dayne focuses hard on the target in front of him, zoning in, he tenses and throws the knife. ZING! The knife flies through the air and hits just outside the knife's center, causing Dayne to swear colorfully. He clenches his fists, takes a deep breath and gets ready to try again.

"COME GET YOUR ROASTED HERDBEAST! TENDER AND FRESH! GET YOUR REDFRUIT PIES! SWEET, HOT AND DELICIOUS!" Food vendors scream out their goods, using elaborate fans to waft the smells out of their stalls.

Esmara sits a customer at her table, a light smile on her face as she begis to turn the fortune cards. "You have a wonderful event coming up…"She begins, watching the smiles upon her customers faces. "You're with child… a boy…..grow up….great man." Parts of her fortune are muddled by the noise around, but that's ok, this is meant for her customer's ears anyway.

A couple of Zingari set off a couple of trumpets. "Come one! Come all! Come see the daring feats of Moretta as we act out her dangerous ride!" A puff of smoke goes up, adding illusion to the announcer's voice. "Then later, come see the daring Zingari history in a series of small skits!" The announcer goes on, drawing a small crowd of listeners.

Dinsayde steps out of his wagon, looking around with a charming daring do smile. He's barechested, save a purple vest with gold firelizards on it. He wears deep red silk pants, bound at the ankle, with a golden belt at the waist. He strides with sandled feet across the grounds, headed for the stages and his performance in A Thousand Igenite Nights. He whistles as he walks, flirting with everything with legs as he walks by. It's going to be a good day, yes sir.

It takes Marcellus quite a while to find a place to park his wagon. But, once he's settled, he takes care of his runner and sets about getting ready to find the leader. It is short work to get himself in order, so within half a candle mark he is winding his way on foot towards the main Zingari camp.

A small girl (older than she appears) skips through the crowd. A squeal of delight is given at the knife throwing, then she bee lines to, "E'bert!" The brownrider sighs and turns to look in the direction of the overly loud call of his name, "Isn't this great? Mamam said I could come," Zisiene's dressed in loose, flowing clothing in the hopes of keeping cool. Her blonde hair has been carefully braided, but even so it's starting to fly away, "That's nice," is answered, "Dancing's 'bout to start, or we could go watch the story of Moretta's Ride," not that E'bert really wants to be seen with his kid sister mind. Oh joy, now E'bert has the chore of keeping the girl out of trouble and he heaves a sigh as the girl skips off after Dinsayde, "Don't bug people Zisiene!" called after the girl. Though he's pretty sure she'll ignore him.

Dayne selects a knife the length of his forearm, testing it's balance by tossing it in the air and balancing it on his finger. Dayne likes the balance, so he steps up to the throwing line, takes a deep cleansing breath, and focuses on the target. He aims, goes taught ..and: ZING the knife flies, and lands dead center, Dayne whoops his joy, even though this is a practice session. His other targets involve humans!

Zisiene stops dead to watch the knife fly, "Oh did you see that?" she asks of the young man that trails behind her. Of course E'bert's seen it, "Yeah, don' get to close Zis," and he's pulling the girl back a step. From time to time he grumbles under his breath as he waits until there's a good time to slip away.

Dinsayde moves through the crowd with ease, stopping to flirt with a particularly beautiful hold girl. He leans against the fence of the grounds and proceeds into some small talk, the girl turning redder the longer he talks.

Tallel is being social, as that is supposed to be the focus for tonight. While being so has never been difficult for him, he does find himself avoiding certain gatherings of older, often bigger men who are here for obvious reasons. Though he held his own this morning against Heidderick, he knows better than to believe that single display will keep some of them away for long. It'll be whether or not they value their own personal honor that does. Even with all his wariness, he walks confidently, his outfit not unlike many of the others worn by the men of his clan - loose emerald green pants bound at the ankle, black leather sandals, a black belt holding a couple of knives and a few pouches tied over with a silver silk sash. His vest is black - something he can only get away with comfortably at night - and decorated with intricate green and silver scrollwork, making him a walking patriot of his clan, so to speak. Of course, rumors are swirling before him and in his wake; some girls don't even look at him, while others try harder still to draw his eye. Yet while he may look, and talk, and beam his charming grin at them…he isn't inclined in the slightest to take one of them on his arm. No, he is headed for the dancing area to watch. He'll get there eventually, taking whatever strides he can in between being accosted by girls, aunties, and men either fixing him with dagger-bearing gazes or knowing smirks.

Dustin is late and smelling of sheep, unlike the other zingari he does not wear his brightly colored garb and instead is dressed in a gather drab brown. His face is wearing a frown as he starts to make his way through the crowd with his shepherd's crook leading the way. He tries to be as polite as he can be as he tries to make his way over towards Willimina before the festivities get too far underway. A couple of the suitors spot the man who stopped them from chasing Willimina before hand and move to block his path, "Where do you think you are going sheep-humper?" One with a handlebar mustache says as he reaches up to give his mustache a twist. Dustin growls softly, "Get out of my way this is Zingari business." The suitors smirk, "Well our business is Zingari business too and we were here first. Go wash off in the trough and maybe we'll let you through."

Calibum is walking through the ground, dressed in a pair of bright red flowing red pants with red-jeweled gold pendant hanging from a gold chain around his neck. He is wearing a bright smile as he moves around the crowd doing his act. He starts to bend and twist in the most unnatural of ways, "My mother loved to weave so much that she made my joints out of strings, now I can twist and turn almost every way. I don't know if I'm coming or going."

Willimina finishes her warm ups and stands, posing, waiting for the music to start. The first twangs of lapharp and guitar fill the air and Willa makes a slow circle, mixed with elaborate hand gestures. Her abdomen undulates slowly, picking up with the speed of the music. Her feet tap out an even tattoo upon the dance floor and then she's lost to the music and the dance, the crowd disappearing. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JjCt4ufeX_U)

Marcellus smiles as he makes his way through the main part of the fair. His clothes indiacte mourning and loss so the young eligables seem to leave him alone for now. He lazes through the food stalls, having tastes of things and watching the shows from the side lines. He asks here and there about where he can find the Zingari Leader. All point him to the dance floor, and he heads that way. If his path happens to intersect with Tallel's, well…he's certainly not a suitor!

Eventually, Tallel does find his way through the throng to finally lean against the rail…and lo and behold, he's in time to see Willimina take to the floor. His is an easy stance as he watches, his expression not giving away any of what is going through his head as he does so…though it's clear his eyes are quite intent on the caravan leader, regardless of whether or not she's even aware he's there. A bit of motion catches his eye; the man in somber attire catches his eye, something striking Tallel as vaguely familiar about him…but that is abandoned in favor of looking past him to those who are accosting Dustin. Shells. Can't people just keep themselves in line? Reluctantly pulling away from the spectacle of Willmina, the young second moves toward Dustin and the two meatheads in his way.

The apprentice that will be Dayne's human target moves into place in front of a circular target. Several things for Dayne to aim at get pinned around the shaking apprentice. Dayne selects a number of knives, laying them out on the table in front of him. A drumroll begins, making the act more intense.

Dustin eyes the two suitors as he grips the crook and his knuckles turn white. He takes a deep breath as he looks back over towards the guards. "I doubt that the guards would be happy about coming over to break up a fight, besides you don't want to get your finery all dirty. Now let me through or I'll have to dirty your fancy clothes." He spots Tallel coming over and he nods to the second, "Hello Tallel." He turns away to ignore the suitors, "We have a problem."

Dinsayde sees the trouble between Dustin and the goons and breaks off, reluctantly, the conversation he'd been having. He slides in alongside Tallel, giving his second a respectful salute. "Commander!" He greets, "Wouldn't you know fights would start early…Heard about your run in with the monster Heidder this morning…unpleasant fellow." Dinsayde eyes the goings on with dustin as they come abreast.

The first dance Willa performs, is a short one, and she is gone from the stage immediately after. She runs to her wagon, where guards await, Heidderick in custody and his Caravan leader standing there looking dark and angry. Willa greets them all decoriously and invites them into her wagon. Ethelinda is also soon entering the wagon. Shouting ensues.

"COME GET YOUR ROASTED HERDBEAST! TENDER AND FRESH! GET YOUR REDFRUIT PIES! SWEET, HOT AND DELICIOUS!" Food vendors scream out their goods, using elaborate fans to waft the smells out of their stalls.

A couple of Zingari set off a couple of trumpets. "Come one! Come all! Come see the daring feats of Moretta as we act out her dangerous ride!" A puff of smoke goes up, adding illusion to the announcer's voice. "Then later, come see the daring Zingari history in a series of small skits!" The announcer goes on, drawing a small crowd of listeners.

Marcellus is entranced by the sights and sounds, so much so, that by the time he gets to the dance floor, the leader is slipping away. He sighs and asks the next person where he might find the caravan assistant. Someone points him Tallel's way and Marcellus has no choice but to sit on the side lines of what looks to be a fight, and wait. He leans against a wagon and chews on his wherry leg methodically. Nothing is gonna be easy today.

Calibum continues to perform before a small crowd. He twists and turns his limbs eliciting winces as people look on with macabre scene. The performer smiles on, "Don't worry none of this hurts at all. The good thing about this is that I don't need anyone's help to wash my own back."

The target set with it's items, and his apprentice in place, Dayne stands in a bubble of calm amidst all the crazy. He takes a breath and aims, steadying himself. ZING!! The knife flies and pops the water bladder hanging over the apprentice's left shoulder. The crowd cheers!

Tallel listens to Dustin's words to the men before him carefully as he approaches summoning up a forcibly bright smile as he comes up near the herder. "A problem? Surely not concerning these two fine gentlemen here?" he says, gesturing to encompass the two glowering bullies. Then there's Dinsayde, and the young second nods. "Dinsayde! Yes, that little incident. In light of that whole unfortunate affair," he notes, turning back to look at the two suitors pointedly, "I'm sure no one would be so foolish as to do something to endanger their welcome among our caravan now, knowing how swiftly and effectively such things are dealt with." Hint, hint. Get a move on, boys. "Am I correct, men? It's you privilege to be off and enjoy the festivities." With that, the suitors are ignored, and Tallel's eyes fall on Dustin and Dinsayde, flicking across the man in mourning clothes again as his gaze passes. He's going to have to go greet that one later, he thinks. "My friends, what's happening with you tonight?"

Fasai has been hit up by the flower merchant already. Whatever she'd exchanged for the blossom was worth it, as she's putting it to good effect- the petals are brushed against her cheek, the stem spun between thumb and finger as she strolls. And such a stroll it is! The bells strung about her ankles chime softly with each lazy step that sends her winding through the crowds. Her course? She might be angling towards the sound of trumpets, the barker calling for the showcase of Moretta's ride.

Dinsayde nods at Tallel and turns towards the men. "Right boys, move along. You'll be ejected from the grounds if you don't." He crosses his arms and glares before turning his attentions to Dustin. "Not performing tonight Dus?" He asks, leaning against a wagon.

Marcellus watches the goigns on with interest. He'd seen two brawls already on the way over here. He'd been hearing rumors that the caravan leader was on the marriage market and was being fought over heavily. He's glad he's not in this mess. His focus zones in on the Zingari second though, he'll need to talk to him once this is over.

Dustin looks back at the suitors as they shake their head, "No problem here." The man with the mustache twists his mustache and looks towards his other suitor, "Come on let's go. Willimina's not even out here." He says as he goes back and Dustin shakes his head, "The sooner Willimina gets married the better, I'm tired of dealing with these jumping jackasses." He says as he focuses back towards Tallel and he leans in close to lower his voice so that not everyone can hear, "There is trouble with the flocks, some of those boys that help to watch over the flock have reported some suspicious activity out there. I went and checked. I've seen some tracks of outside of the pens in the wilds beyond the pens. I think someone is watching them."

Tallel takes a lean of his own against the same wagon as Dinsayde, next to the spy as he folds his arms and shrugs at Dustin. "Or the sooner the sevenday gets over," he says to the matter of Willimina getting married. "At least it isn't forever." And that's all he's going to say for now, his mind full of much more he might add but knows better not to. As for the flock, the second tilts his head slightly, frowning. "Would you like us to post a few guards out by the pens to be safe?" From the periphery of his vision, he notes the man in mourning dress heading elsewhere, then glances up as a woman with a flower and bells about her ankles chimes her way through. He smirks at Dinsayde a bit, flicking his eyes a bit in a silent suggestion to look that way to see what he sees before returning his attention to the herder.

Dinsayde looks to see what Tallel is gesturing at and grins. "Is that for you? Or is Willa's company better?" He asks, obviously teasing his second, he quite approves actually!! He turns his attention back to the conversation at hand. "I can also set a couple of spies around the pens if it makes you feel better Dustin. Faranth knows we've lost enough already."

Dustin nods, "Both would be nice to have both of them, but I know you can't have them out forever. I hope they move on. Although they might just wait for the guards to leave. Let me know who is going to be out there so the young shepherds know what to report to me." He looks around, "Sorry to bring this up on a day of celebration."

Smirk deepening at Dinsayde's words, Tallel arches a brow. "I was just trying to help a man out a bit, that's all," he tells the spy, purposely avoiding the question put to him. Not touching that with so many angry ears around, thank you! Another flick of his gaze out to the crowd shows the woman to be gone, the ethereal tinkling of her bells nowhere to be heard all of a sudden. Ah well. Perhaps she'll appear again later. To Dustin another shrug is given, one-shouldered as he nods to Dinsayde's offer of spies. "We can just have them rotate, like all the other guard shifts do," he reasons. "It shouldn't be a problem. Maybe it's just some of the weyrbrats wanting to pet a big white fluffy thing. Or ride one." Mutton-busting! He chuckles a bit. "We'll make sure nothing happens, Dustin; don't worry."

Dinsayde can fo nothing but chuckle heartily at his superior. Eyes focusing back on Dustin he nods. "I can spare Zukko and Kumar indefinitely. They are freshly out of training and eager to test their mettle. I full faith in their performances. I shall have them report to you immediately. And I'll make it known they report to you Dustin."

Dustin nods a little bit, "Thank you both of you. They better not be riding them. If they ruin their coats I'll take it out of their hides. All right thank you again. If you'll excuse me I have to go get cleaned up. I promised that I'd perform soon, I just thought that this required your attention and I'm sure you'll let Willimina know."

Tallel gives Dustin a nod and a grin. "No problem, cousin. Just let us know if there's anything else you need. I look forward to hearing your performance!" Shifting, he turns back to Dinsayde, his right shoulder bearing most of his lean. "So is that what all that shouting is about?" he asks, jerking his chin at the caravan leader's wagon. "Get Heidderick and his lot out of here?" He sighs, his expression darkening a bit. "I should be in there." As second. Yet he knows precisely why he can't be.

Dinsayde waves Dustin off with a cheerful smile and nods at Tallel. "Aye, I think our dear leader had to get Ethelinda involved, I saw the old one go in there." Dinsayde gives Tallel a sideways smirk. "Cousin… I think it would cause a riot if you went in there right now."

Willimina emerges from the wagon, frustrated, lines of worry greasing her face, but another performance is due in less than a few minutes. She darts of for the dance stage, trying to push her worry out.

Celesti weaves through the crowd, flirting, pickpocketing, mayhaps finding a prtner for the wee hours of the morning. She dips by the supply wagon and grabs flowers, she'll be on flower duty as well tonight. Come on boys, buy your ladies a flower!

Dayne picks up his second knife and throws, the blade landing in the ear of the stuffed canine pinned to the target…Not where he was aiming. Beads of sweat line up on the brow of the knife thrower. Tonight is not a night ot be off his game. He picks up his third knife and throws, it lands in the center of the hat he threw it at, his apprentice had yelped. Dayne sighs a sigh of relief.

"I know it would," Tallel murmurs, glancing away from the wagon to pick at a nail that really doesn't need it. "Hopefully Ethelinda can end things peacefully…" If not peaceably. Another glance back up has the young second glimpsing Willimina once more, and his brows hike a bit. Even from here, her worried state is evident. When it's clear where she's headed, Tallel pushes of the wagon. "I think I'm going to head that way again," he informs Dinsayde with another jerk of his chin. Then, a smirk. "Maybe I can ply a few tricks on the way." To help him push a few things of his own away.

Marcellus returns to the food booths. Another wherry leg is acquired, along with several sweet treats and a bubbly pie. He also gets some of the famous warmed whiskey that seems to be a favorite in these parts. He settles to eat his fair, watching the knife throwing with fond amusement.

Dustin comes out of the wagon he's been staying in freshly bathed and smelling more of soap then of sheep. He is also wearing a deep plum shirt and black pants. He has his panpipes with him and he moves down. He spots Celesti and gives her a polite smile, "Good evening."

Nearby, guards come tromping through the camp, disrupting everything to clear the path for the line of wagons leaving the caravan grounds. In the seating boards of the first wagon are The caravan's leader and a foul smelling Heidderick, who makes no effort to hate the hatred he has for Tallel as he rides by, hands tied, to be at the mercy of his leader and matriarch that night. This eastern clan has lost it's go at the lead family this year. The head wagon stops by Tallel for a moment, the leader inclining his head at Tallel in respect. "I'm sorry for the way my idiot cousin here acted. You have a strong, fair leader on your hands there boy. Harsh in her punishment too. After your matriarch let this 'un have the worste tongue lashing I ever seen, young Willimina had at him next. We've been banned from the festival this year, and no trade or contact or protection from ya'll till then end of next turn. This lad won't the only one of mine to start a brawl this morning. Again, I'm sorry. I'll miss the back up, but we'll manage. Keep your eye on that girl if you're smart… She's got the workings of a truly good leader in her." And with that, he whickers at the team of runners and the caravan is on its way. Once it's gone, the guards allow people to continue thier business.

Dinsayde nods. "I'll tag along, I love watching our leader dance!" Dinsayde lifts himself off the side of the wagon and laughs, giving Tallel a playful nudge in the ribs. "You're a lucky man Tallel…" He chortles again and pulls some balls out of his pockets, juggling them idly. When the procession comes through he gawps at them, stilling his juggling act.

His progress forward stalled for the moment by the passage of the guard and then the caravan, Tallel backs up to the wagon by Dinsayde again and looks up when he's addressed. The words from the caravan's leader have him inclining a grateful bow, and he nods. "I will. Safe travels, cousin." He watches the rest pass, then gives Dinsayde a smirk for the nudge. "Aye. Lucky…" he replies, rubbing his neck a bit. "Out of my league, maybe. I…" Whatever he's about to say, he bites off, shaking his head slightly. In spite of his confidence, he definitely regards this entire business with Willa with some uncertainty born of his youth. "Well. We'll see what comes of it," he finishes, letting himself smile a bit more and walking along with Dinsayde toward the dance area.

Marcellus busily eats his food. He's not so far away that he doesn't see all the hubub around the exiting caravan. He wipes at his mouth with a 'kerchief and watches the event unfold. This is not to mean he stops eating of course, he'd not had a Zingari meal since leaving the steppes! This was a sumptuous fair, and he'll not pass up good food.

Dustin move up towards the stage where the music is playing and he takes his place with the others who play similar types of instruments that he does. Dustin gives a nod to those musicians all ready there and he waits for the next song to start before he'll start to play.

Willimina barely makes it to the dance floor in time, but seeing she's a bit winded, the musicians give her a moment to catch her breath by continuing the filler music they'd been playing before. Willa uses this time to sink into her sacred space, her inner calm. She breathes in and out, closing her eyes to focus on calming. She tunes out the ruccous of the banished ones and recites an old zingari mantra. She nods to the musicians when she's ready, giving Dustin a friendly wave when she does. She plasters a saucy smile on her lips, despite the thundering of her heart and sweeps out onto the dance floor to introductory notes.

Dinsayde raises a brow to Tallel and smirks. "Not second guessing yourself are you?" The one's leaving are now yesterday's news as far as Din is concerned. He wants to know! His eyes dart to the dance floor and back to Tallel. "I mean… what's to second guess about that eh?" Dinsayde waggles his eyebrows at Tallel. The exiting caravan has given them quite the bubble of space, so as long as they aren't loud, they can talk. Din examines his nails and grins mysteriously at Tallel. "Me thinks more will come of it than you think." He winks at Tallel and continues. "One has to ask one's self Of no use to one ,Yet absolute bliss to two. The small boy gets it for nothing. The young man has to lie or work for it. The old man has to buy it. The baby's right, The lover's privilege, The hypocrite's mask. To the young girl, faith; To the married woman, hope; To the old maid, charity. What am I?" Great. Riddles. Leave it to a Zingari to give advice in riddles.

Tallel's eyes flick to Willimina's dance for a moment, then to the ground just ahead of his feet. "Nothing," he replies. "It was just…sudden. I feel like I still have a lot of thinking to do. Or maybe I'm doing too much already, and that's all my trouble," he concedes with a smirk. He listens to Dinsayde's riddle, his brows knitting slowly before he looks over at the man, shaking his head. "My first answer would be love…but that doesn't exactly fit some of that riddle," he says. Finally, they move into the dance area, though it's still fairly sparse where they now stand. He doesn't mind the conversation continuing, at this point.

Dustin gives a friendly nod to Willimina as his hands are full with is panpipes. He waist for his lead in and he starts to play the other musicians. His part isn't terribly complicated, but enough for him to have to concentrate on the music.

Dinsayde gives Tallel a stern 'you're hiding something' look and smirks. "Well, maybe an unbiased ear can help you sort out all those roaming thoughts eh?" Dinsayde's a great listener! Really! He leans his elbows on the guard rail around the dance area, meant to keep the calvary out and give Willa some room. "The answer is a kiss… which seems odd and vague. But ask yourself, what's behind that kiss, what happens when those two sets of lushious lips you two sport meet?" Dinsayde smiles. "There's a lot to be said about bodily reactions…the crazier they are the heavier the attraction.." Dinsayde sees all, and mayhaps he sees something these two don't. After all, part of his profession is …pleasing the masses, he knows body language. (

Willimina sweeps across the dance floor in a dance that is something more like a salsa than her usual belly dances and erotic dances. She's moving too fast to know who is in the crowd, too bad, because her heart would soar to see the object of her worry unscathed. She twirls, skirt lifting dangerously high as she comes out of the spin and goes into into a set of complicated dance moves. Her body practically undulates to the music. Cat calls, whoops, whistles and claps come from the audience…

Marcellus finishes his food in enough time to spot the second in command arriving at the dance floor. He jumps from his seat, wipes his face clear of debris, and jogs over to the pair standing at the rail. He slows as he approches, one hand going through his pomp, making sure it's in place. He idles on the fence nearby, but not near enough to eavesdrop. He's not quite brave enough to approach yet, besides, it seems like a private conversation. He'll just wait his turn. Meanwhile, he watches the dance, eyes riveted after the first few seconds. Wow.

Dustin feels his eyes go wide as Willimina's skirt goes up as she comes out of the spin and he actually falters and he to stop playing for a moment. He finds the melody again after a moment and goes back to playing. He hopes that no one noticed his lapse.

Willimina winks at Dustin as she flies off, not even missing a beat. It's alright! Things happen. The drum beat of the song becomes eratic and so does Willimina. Her hips sway and her hands clap as she undulates to make the bells at her wrists and ankles tinkle. Her hair flies around her as she goes into a wild spin, head falling back , eyes drifting closed as she becomes one with the rhythm.

"It's only happened…" Once? Twice? How does one count a night and a morning spent together? Tallel utters a sound that seems like a snatch of laughter, but it's of a more bewildered variety. Huffing a bit, his eyes drift out to watch again, and he peripherally notes all the reactions the beautiful woman spinning about beyond the railing is garnering - Dustin's missed notes, the whistles, the cheers. "She can have anyone. Anyone she wishes. And then one night, even though we'd been drinking, and…something real happens. A spark takes. Of all men…me?" He's quiet for a moment, still watching. "Yet I don't want it to stop." The return of the man in mourning garb draws his eye from the side, and he glances over, abandoning his attention of Dinsayde for just a moment to give the man a nod of greeting.

Dinsayde looks thoughtful for a moment, his teasing gone. His hazel eyes drift towards Willimina and then back to Tallel. "I can understand the confusion… But, keep in mind our dear leader doesn't make her decisions lightly. She chews and worries on them like a canine with a bone and then takes the answer she's sure is the right one." He flicks the knot at Tallel's shoulder. "You proved your worth of that this morning." Dinsayde runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head blushing. "Having been around the camp awhile now, and having seen you around, I can see what Willa likes in you…" After all, Dinsayde is known to love all types! "You just need to see it yourself and you'll know 'why you.'" Dinsayde isn't giving him that answer though, that's one he'll have to figure out himself. "Who would want it to stop?!?" Dinsayde asks incredulously at Tallel. "That's a woman worth having right there! And because Dinsayde is Dinsayde, he ribs Tallel again and chuckles. "And I bet she's a queen between the sheets too!" This is said in a low tone, a joke between friends. The sullen man is noted when Tallel turns towards him and Dinny gives him a nod of greeting too.

It is a good thing Marcellus is actually looking when Tallel and Dinsayde offer their greetings. Marcel nods back and waves, turning his eyes back towards Willimina. He'll approach the second when he gets up the nerve. Marcel, normally a people person, is a bit overwhelmed by all the fanfair, amazed by it actually.

"I know she does," Tallel chuckles with regard to how much Willimina worries and ponders things. He dips his head in appreciation for Dinsayde's comment about his worthiness of his rank, then blushes a little at the next words to pass his lips. Being complimented by another male is…most definitely not something Tal is used to! At least he knows its harmless, in this instance. As for the comment he's ribbed again for, he darkens further, but straightens his vest a bit. "I'm not the sort of man to kiss and tell," he informs Dinsayde, but there's a wink to go with it. That ought to say enough. "Give me a moment, cousin; I think we have a new clan member in our midst." And as second, with Willimina occupied, it's Tal's job to greet the fellow. Moving over a bit, and comes up to the dark-clothed man and bows a bit. "Evening to you," he says with a smile, giving the man a half bow. "Welcome to our little festival. I'm Tallel, second in command to Willimina. Are you new to us?"

Willimina brings her dance to a close with a dramatic flare, hips swaying and gyrating to a dramatic crescendo of drums. She ends with a curtsy so deep her nose touches the ground. She stands gracefully after a moment and bows, smiling and waving at the crowd before slipping off the dance floor and disappearing into the crowd and towards her wagon. She has reports to take. She rolls her eyes and groans as the lines of worry return to her face. Turning at her door, she gives one last frantic look at the crowd. Not spotting the object of her thoughts, she sighs heavily and disappears into her wagon. Soon enough, two guards and a few local Zingari enter the wagon.

Marcellus startles a bit when Tallel approaches, he'd been hyper focused on the ending of the dance. He'd also tracked the young leader's race back to her wagon, and had been watching her sad movements when Tallel approched. Looking squeemish, like a teen caught spying on the girls, Marcellus turns to greet the Zingari Second. He gives a deep bow at the waist. "It is an honour to be amongst the mother clan. I am Marcellus, of one of the Telgar clans." Mocha eyes take a sudden, if shrewd perousal of Tallel's facial features…something vaguely familliar tugs at his memory. "I sent word to your leader about my coming. I am to take the post of Captain of The Guard sir." He clears his throat and stands at attention.

Better late than never, right? Veresch is more than fashionably late, but she skids into the festival grounds riiiight before it would have been way too late. Clad more conservatively than many of the dancers and merry-makers here, she's nevertheless taken the time to doll herself up a little. Slipping into the throng of merrymakers like a lean cat, she spends a moment looking around for familiar faces. With such a crush, it's not surprising that she does not succeed. Instead, tcching softly, she makes for the dancing section to peek at the dancers that took over from Willimina.

Dinsayde holds up his hands, palms wide open, fingers splayed. "Hey cousin, nothin' meant by it." However, Dinsayde grins wide at Tallel's wink. Enough said indeed brother! Dinsayde flicks his gaze over to the newcomer, he raises a brow, but doesn't approach. Waving to Tallel, he roams of to flirt and juggle, and socialize! Orders were orders, y'know!

Dayne has finished with his now terrified apprentice and is now setting up to throw at a new target. It looks like a ten foot canvas, but it has ten shelves on it, ranging from one to ten inches wide. On each of these shelves is a piece of fruit, or a gourd that fits the size of the shelf. He picks up his forearm sized blade and throws at the first target (the largest one on the bottom), spearing it right in the center. Easy peasy. He pickcs up his second knife, one half the size of the first and throws. Again, right through the center. His third knife misses it's target and Dayne stomps around his platform, cursing as he readies himself for another try.

Esmara starts to pack up her fortune telling table, she's had quite enough of this today and has a performace to get to. A rendition of Zingari History, done theater style. She is to play a great Zingari matriarch. She finishes quickly and heads for the costume wagon set up near the stage. She had a candlemarks worth or more of fussing to go through for this part.

Tallel's appraisal of Marcellus is just as pointed for a good moment, especially when he mentions being from Telgar. "Ah," he says with a smile. "We've probably crossed paths before. I'm of the Kheerin Zingari, also from the Steppes. It's good to see another of us here." His smile turns to a grin at the man's attentive position, and he shakes his head a bit. "Be at ease, man; this is a party." A familiar face flickers among the milling throng just beyond, but is quickly lost…aaaand now Willa's disappeared again, too. Wonderful. Oh, wait…yes, that is Veresch! He gives the girl a quick wave, but isn't done with Marcellus yet so doesn't move her way. He'll make his way over to her soon enough!

The incredible crush of partygoers at the festival is enough to hide Veresch in bits and patches; when she finally breaks into a small open space it remains barely long enough for a few deep breaths; greetings both to and from her have a quick pace as she calls out to all the faces she knows. Tallel's wave gains a cheery smile and return wave when she spots it, and eventually she settles into an easy wander. Then, "Ah, hello Dinsayde," she greets as the entertainer/juggler/spy entertains his way past on an intersection path before she settles down to watch Dayne, fascinated. Being able to put knives where you want them — a handy skill, yes? One it wouldn't hurt to acquire.

Dinsayde intersects the lovely Veresch with a charming smile, a bow, and a flower. "My my what a lovely little avian we have amongst our bright flock!" Dinsayde chuckles and offers Veresch an arm. "Come m'lady, you simply must try the mulled wine and wherry legs. They are to die for." He winks at Veresch, the smile on his face growing from charming to all out handsome.

Back to Dayne; he's thrown his next two knives, neatly impaling both objects he was aiming at. He takes another knife, his focus honing, his targets are getting smaller. He throws, and hits it!!!

Veresch gives Dayne a dubious look as he starts ascending the 'steps' of the display cabinet's fruit, and turns to Dinsayde to level a grin on him. The bow gets a dip of her head, the flower a set of arched eyebrows, and the charm a laugh. "Save that for someone that's in the mood to marry," she teases as she takes the arm, tucking the flower behind an ear. "He's good, that knife thrower of yours," she murmurs as they wander to the mulled wine and wherry legs. "Tell me, how has the caravan been, what with the strange weather? It was a good decision to stay over here, what with the 'falls being so strange until now."

Dinsayde grins. "Oh but miss, I have no interest in marriage. Just the company of a pretty lady." He walks them along, keeping the oace at a rate which is comfortable for both. "Dayne is more than decent with a blade. We're proud to have him." He seats them at one of the many tables and food and wine is automatically brought to them. "The caravan is well. The wagons are well fortified, so the weather and Thread don't bother us much. I think Willimina is glad to be back in Igen. She was sad in the desert…"

Shouts emit from Willimina's wagon, angry ones, and they are most certainly not coming from the guards or any of the common Zingari. Oh no, these shouts are Willa's and they are full of a righteous anger. Apparently the young leader has had enough of the brawls increasing around her camp this day. Silence reveres for only a moment before her irate, verbose tyrade starts over. Willa be layin' the smack down.

If one happens to be walking by the big stage, the actors upon it seems to be in the middle of a dark, Zingari fairy tale. A few men in a dragon costume seem to 'float' across the stage, but the dragon is ghostlike, eerie looking, the producer's image of a dragon's mind face and voice. The other actor on the stage, looks as if in a daze, whilst Zingari dance in circles in the background.

Marcellus nods. "Aye sir, something about you seems familiar, I am of the Briden clan." He relaxes a bit as the second orders him to do…his second rather. jerks his thumb in the direction Willa had gone in. "I'd heard rumors of her beauty and talent, but I'd no idea. No wonder so many brawls were started this morning, she's a gem." Marcellus smiles a bit, rubbing at his chin, feeling the minute amount of stubble he'd gained since that morning. "Rumor through the camp, as I heard it walking this morning, is that she's taken already." He won't say he knows by who, he has more tact than that.

Tallel shakes his head again with a chuckle. "No 'sirs' needed, Marcellus. Especially not tonight." He still finds it odd when someone older than him calls him sir! As for Marcellus' comments about Willimina, Tallel simply smiles. "She is. On all counts." And he's not going to say he…sort of is who, either. Then there's some shouting coming from Willimina's wagon again, he has his answer as to where she'd gotten to. "Shells," he spits under his breath. "Those brawls are what's causing that, I'd guess." He huffs a sigh, knowing it's probably still a bad idea for him to try going in there. "Well, Marcellus, are you settled in, then? A place for your wagon and an idea of where everything is?"

Veresch's gaze turns interested at Dinsayde's explanation. "Not in the mood to marry? I thought all of the Zingari had to sooner or later? Something about perpetuating tradition or the like." One hand gestures to the festival going on. "And… well. Isn't that what some of this is about?" The shouts from the caravan is frowned at for a moment, but politely ignored after that, and she continues on at his side. "That's good to hear. The metal roofs would make the wagons hot, but better sweltering than eaten by Thread, I guess."

Marcellus grins at Tallel's comments on his leader. He looks at the wagon the shouting is coming from and gives a mock grimace. "I imagine they have sir, at such a large event, it must be stressful being the leader of the mother clan and hosting all the others, I'd imagine you'd want it to go as easy as you can get it…sir." He can't help it, rank within the caravan and respect for it was drilled into his head as a child. "Aye sir, I found a niche for my things. And I don't know my way around yet, but I can figure it out quick enough."

A few more moments of shouting and Willa's door opens, shamed guards coming out with their heads hanging and the commons looking like spooked game. They scatter quickly, shutting the door behind them. A few moments later Willa's door swings wildly open and bounces off the side with a loud report. Willa storms out and shuts it, cursing wildly. She looks around the fair, runs her hands through her hair in frustration, and storms off towards the baths. To hell with her next two performances!

Dinsayde shakes his head. "Not in the least." He shrugs at her second comment. "My intended died an unfortunate death before we were wed. I'm sort of treated as a widower within my people now, I am free to choose my mate." He takes a large drink of wine, crossing his legs after. "But I'm a hedonist darling, I love the pleasures of the flesh and life too mucch to settle down!" He gives Veresch a wink and sips at his wine. He waves at the fanfare in an apathetic manner. "All this sweety, is for the mama's with young ones not betrothed yet. Some of us singles seek out mates too, but some of us don't."

Marcellus bows to Tallel. "With all due respect sir, I've had a hell of a journey and I'd like to relax a bit. If you'll please excuse me." He salutes and makes his way into the crowd, soon disappearing.

There's a blink from the young woman, and a small shake of Veresch's head. These Zingari are mad at times, and their customs strange. "Sounds like holders would think you fit in better at the Weyr than most traders," she teases, studiously ignoring the wine for the moment. "I wish you luck in escaping them then, the mamas with the unattached daughters. Still… if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go and look in there at the dancers, and Tallel owes me one as well. Good night, Dinsayde!" Another nod, and she whisks away with a grin.

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