Masquerade Ball

10:51 PM
Logfile from Flandynn.

Xanadu Weyr - Meadow(#9290RJL)
A large, slightly rolling meadow is set high enough above the riverbank on both sides to avoid suffering from flooding, healthy ground cover and grass spreading out from either side of the dividing river. Scattered amongst the meadow are a variety of buildings, each with a narrow path leading up to it from a main, winding road. Some are set under a few trees, while others sit by themselves.
Stables and a smithy are settled on their own plots, while trees border the western edge of the meadow, and a faint outline of a fence can be seen to the north.
People: Fl'ynn, Keziah, Mishkia, Matrin, and Thea
Dragons: Isobeth
Obvious exits:
Garden <G> Ridge <RI> Beach <BE> Forest <FO> Clearing <C> Smith Forge <SF> Coastal Road <CR> Stables <ST>
SIGN: For a list of available weyrs, type 'Weyrs'.

The largest open area of the meadow has been claimed for the evening's festivities. South of the feeding grounds, west of the trees, a flat space has been segregated and decorated for celebrating the birth of the new turn. Groupings of chairs pulled close to small tables ring the area, and several long serving tables reside under the farthest spreading branches of the nearby trees. All of the tables are draped fine cloth - a primary color graced with contrasting diamond cloths down the center. The serving tables are black on teal while the smaller rounds are reversed, all in honor of the celebratory colors of turn 2692. In a nod to remembering turns past, glow lanterns have been strung up and actual torches blaze on top of high poles scattered among the tables. Wide flat boards have been nailed together and staked into the ground to create a mobile dance floor in the center of it all, with a slightly raised platform at one end for the performing Harpers. Even now they are warming up, filling the air with the first strains of a jaunty, welcoming tune.

There has been enough buzz - both the gossip sort and the construction and decorating literal noise - that a crowd is already beginning to gather in the meadow. Matrin and Mishkia are among the earlier arrivals, her hand tucked into a properly bent elbow and his free hand quick to point out this and that. He is complying with the spirit of masquerade but just barely with a half mask that isn't likely to really hide his identity all that well. Beyond that he has taken advantage of the opportunity to be outside and dressed up, all the way up to a fedora perched atop his head. "So we celebrate each turn with special colors, and this turn is black and teal," he can be heard to murmur as they approach the tables.

With the Weyrsecond off on sweeps most likely, Thea is here alone with the twins, one on either side of her. Muir is dressed entirely in a small set of blue-tinted riding leathers complete with miniature helmet, goggles and gloves. He's got a pair of wings affixed to his back and he's growling and making pouncing feints at everyone he passes. One guess what he's supposed to be. Marella is dressed like a little Lady Holder in her silky-shine of sisal pink gown and slippers, glittering with a few of her mama's necklaces and a fancy hairdo of her own. There's likely a few very pleased Iernean shopkeepers as a result of all this finery.

And here we have Fl'ynn's butt, already warming a seat not far from the Harpers. The still-just-barely-teen is perched upon a bench, booted ankle resting upon a knee, one hand motioning about in animation, the other motioning not so much 'cause of the presence of a glass of something or another within it. Must not spill the contents. Party foul. Oh yes, Fl'ynn showed up early, socialized, imbibed, and is just finishing up some Amazing story or another to a Harper which is trying to make an exit to play. And how do we know this is Fl'ynn? Because his attempt at a mask isn't all that… well, all that. It is also kinda off-kilter. Could be floppy ears, or horns, kinda patch-work, possibly made of tunnelsnake skin. Who knows? At least he is in his one and only set of dress togs, thank you very much -aka, newest leathers.

Derin arrives from the Forest
Derin has arrived.

From the forest comes a lone figure, looking uncomfortable at best. At least perhaps that is why she keeps tugging at the dress. She looks around the meadow. Noting the people she is familiar with. Mirai has opted out of going and is staying home with Micaela. The black dress she is wearing is short, coming only to mid calf, so hopefully she won't trip and tear the hem on this one. She looks at the various people, taking in their costumes. She really had no wish to dress up as something crazy. Heck, she really didn't even want to be here. But orders are orders and the healer figured it'd be good for her.

Tromping in from Faranth knows where comes someone clothed in a runner costume with a really big butt! Derin and Dersk would be under that costume but then who can tell since they're actually completely covered from head to toe. The runner costume isn't fancy, rather it's just a plain brown and white costume, designed to look like a paint-marked runner. Either someone had no idea what to do for the masquerade or Derin lost a major bet, poor guy. O course, the runner-costumed pair of wherhandler and wher stay out of the main thoroughfare, either too embarrassed or too larg to move about the people comfortably.

Mishkia is trying not to look out totally overwhelmed and it's likely a good thing her fingers are secured in the crook of Matrin's elbow - it would take some tugging to retrieve them and flee. With her limited wardrobe, the best the store room could come up with for her is a one-piece pants suit made from a slinky sort of material shimmering in gold, purple, teal and greenish iridescence. Someone has found her a half mask concocted of peacock-like feathers, the hues matching the colors of her clothing. The black slippers she's wearing have high heels, borrowed from stores as well cause her to teeter a bit, leaning on that arm of support as she goes nodding her head while listening to Matrin talk.

So the purpose of Matrin's arm becomes three-fold. Manners, shackles to keep a skittish girl from bolting, and support for teetering toes. He does all three well, giving his companion a solid enough platform to keep her upright, and laying his free hand over her fingertips when he gets a break in all the gesturing. "I would introduce you all around but it would be a bit of a challenge this evening. A chance for you to pretend you're Xanadu born and bred, hmm?" A grin tips his lips and he pauses on their way to the food to flip a wave at Fl'ynn - or maybe the Harper who is trying to escape him. "Food, drink, a dance, what first m'lady?"

Well you KNOW if it has four legs and/or wings Muir is going to ask to ride it! And thus as Kitty-Thea and her 'cubs' pass him by, and the Weyrwoman pats him on the 'head' with a laughing, "Nice runner, would you like a carrot?" Muir does just that. "Hey, hey, comon and lemme on, huh-please." Marella bats at him with a superior scowl. "You'll fall through that sag in the middle of his back, Muir." Thea just steers the both of them away with promises of food and a cheerfully firm, "Time to eat!"

Fl'ynn waves back. You better believe he is. Sure, the person may not be waving in his direction, but damn if he won't be polite and wave back anyway. Only problem is…? Well, he waved with the hand holding the glass. *splish-splash* Amber-hued liquid slops to spill over his wrist and wet the ground. "Oh whoops," the teen winces, for all you can't really see it behind that tilted mask. He bounces to his feet, managing to slop a little bit more. Wrist come to his mouth to suck up the wetness. It'd be a damn shame to miss any of that delicious drink. Dark eyes beneath the mask alight upon something or another, "Oooh, runner."

Mishkia gives Matrin a wide-eyed look before dropping her gaze to her feet. She's going to have to dance in these shoes?! Back to him she simply stares for a beat before suggesting, "How about something to drink?" Because if she makes it that far? She may consider dancing. As for pretending to be a Xanadian? That might be a tall order. As she wobbles along beside him she spots a familiar figure, squints behind her mask, "Is that… Keziah? Keziah!" She waves at the woman in black if she looks their way, obviosly wanting her to join them.

There is a look. And I mean a /LOOK/ for Thea as Kezi's eyes zero in on the Weyrwoman and her twinlets. She skirts around a number of the people towards the food. The food should be safe. Yes? Except now there is splashing wine and Kezi murmurs something about alcohol abuse. She glances around and then she's eyeing Matrin and Mishkia, watching as the one teeters a little and the gracefulness of the other. Interesting pair. Looks familiar. And then she voice itself is quite familiar and thus Keziah veers away from the food. Sadness and heads over to Mishkia. "You look, good." she notes softly. "And your partner looks good too."

Matrin winces a bit as he is the unwitting cause of the first of several party fouls, and he gives Fl'ynn a sympathetic grin, flashing white teeth. Mishkia's lack of sturdiness steals more of his attention then, and with a low chuckle he helps her over an uneven patch of grass. "Maybe a drink and a chair, really. At least the dance floor is flat and level?" The abrupt hollering and waving brings his eyes up, and his feet falter to a halt. "Is that Keziah?" But it must be, because here she comes. "You look incredible, miss." And his fingers lift to tip his hat along with the anonymous title, even though Mishkia just identified her. "And we match!"

Fl'ynn needs to go refill that drink now, seeing as he has spilled much on the ground or onto his hand -and, well, what he has already drunk. The teen already knows rather well where to get more, and more he gets. Fingers attempt to twitch his rather sad mask back into place. Maybe when it is actually settled upon his face evenly it'll look more akin to a bulldog's mug. Maybe. Possibly. It is probably the flopped ears that make it questionable. Whatever. He is thirsty. Drink first, adjusting the mask may be an afterthought.

The serving tables are gradually filling with delectable offerings from the very busy Weyr kitchens. All of Xanadu's beholden areas are represented by flavorful dishes, and nearly every sort of protein and veggie makes an appearance at least once. Some highlights are barbecue flavored meatballs, little individual quiches in several flavors, a whole roast pig which will be delivered from the beach shortly and edible sculptures made of fruit. Juice and klah join casks of ale and darker beer as well as both white and red wine which flow freely.

Taking a moment to answer, because a snarky remark was right on the tip of her tongue. Kezi just smiles and nods and simply says "Thank you." She does glance back towards the food a moment. She shifts a little, seeming to be a little out of sorts. Proper socializing? Her? You have got to be kiddding. "You're… you. You look good." Oh wait, she already said that. Hmm. "I'm sure you two would like to dance, so I should umm let you do that?"

At the serving table Thea's juggling plates and twins and greetings alike. Keziah approches and is given a look of warm approval. "You look wonderful tonight," she tells the greenrider without using her name. Because anonymity is the name of the game tonight. She guides the twins with their plates to an empty table near enough to the buffet where she can simultaneously greet people and keep her offspring busy with refills.

Matrin just dips a nod, his smirk remaining. "I am me, and thank you very much. Though I don't think we will be dancing with these shoes." Not his, hers, as indicated by a nod at Mishkia's footwear. "I was actually planning to go get some drinks. Would you like to keep each other company and I can grab something for all three of us?" Uplifted brows as the question of Keziah, then Mishkia. "Juice? Wine? Ale?" A dart of his eyes snags on Thea in floor length feline fur and the brows climb even higher. "Maybe I can corral a small dragon and a little Lady Holder at some point so catwoman can take a breath too.

Mishkia sends a sidelong look of chagrin Matrin-wards. Her blunder must be the reason for Keziah's stilted reply. Oh yes, masks. Ooop? With a murmur of chagrin, she apologizes to Keziah. "Ain't- This isn't anything like the shindigs back home, but hey-" She reaches a gentle tweak at the woman's sleeve, "Don't go. I'm not sure I can walk in these things let alone dance in them." She makes a rueful gesture to her high-heeled shoes. "Ale, please," she asides to Matrin and reaches for a nearby table corner so she doesn't tip over when he retracts his elbow to go get them.

Esiae arrives from the Coastal Road
Esiae has arrived.

Muir waits until his mother is getting him more food, then slyly slips out of his chair, ignoring his sisters chiding, "Muir stay where mama said." He skitters around people, his fake wings flapping in his effort to avoid smacking them, failing on occasion. He's making straight for Fl'ynn and upon reaching him simply stands eyeballing him. "Can you bark?" He asks quizzically after a pause. "The runner-" he points to the costumed DerinDersk, "-didn't neigh at me." Sadness. Poor deprived kid.

In amongst those that are already there, a man dressed in what appears to be some sort of stylish Captain's outfit has become a part of the throng. He wears a tailcoat with wide white lapels parted at the top and a high collar, tightened with what appears to be a fanciful bow-tie. The tailcoat is black, buttons a crisp pearl white, to match the inside layer of the jacket. Sleeves are trimmed and allow the undershirt's ruffles to spill out. The tailcoat ends at a high waist, with a crimson sash acting as a wide belt, settling over pearl white trousers that are stuffed into knee high boots. There's a captain's hat on his head and his face is currently obscured by a simple white mask that covers half his face, leaving his jaw bare - and it's surprisingly clean shaven. There's a quick ale in his hand by the time he shimmies closer to those he unknowingly is acquainted with.

Keziah umms a little "Juice?" though there are times she almost wished for a drink. She'll stay, if dor Mishkia's sake. "No, it's certainly not." she agrees. "I think I might prefer those. Least I wouldn't be in this getup that Mirai insisted on." she shakes her head a little. "I've my guesses why she wanted to stay home, but I've not caught her." Yet, hangs in the air. Thea is eyed again and then she shakes her head. The kids are looked at then she's smiling "She is certainly a little Lady Holder, isn't she?" Bossy. Cough. She looks around again, eyes skimming across the various costumed people and there's a look at the captain. A handsome figure indeed. She looks back at Mishkia "So umm, have you been enjoying yourself? It's good to see you here though." There's a pause and then a bit of a smile "HAve you enjoyed the company you've been spending time with?"

Fl'ynn is good about responding upon command, especially for Muir. Why not? "Woof!" And then he grins. It'd be the sort from ear to ear if he didn't have some pathetically sad mask half-covering his face. "I beg too. Often. You can even rub my tummy. Fetching is a bit more ifsy. Depends." His narrow shoulders rise and fall with a shrug, just as easily he is lifting his drink to his mouth to take a rather long gulp of the contents.

Matrin is gathering a pair of ales and a juice, managing to juggle all three with the help of one of the little trays offered for just such a purpose. He pauses to lean in to Thea and murmur, "The dress is lovely, madam. I am surprised your escort let you out of his sight." His wink is somewhat diminished by being behind the mask, but the charming, mischievous grin speaks for itself. "It looks like one of your wee charges has also made a friend. If Lady Marella would like a dance let me know, hmm?" A tip of his head will have to take the place of a tip of his hat, because his hands are full. Fl'ynn's antics bring a chuckle and Ers'lan catches his eye too on the way back to his own table. "Here you are, ladies."

Overhearing Matrin, "I wanna dance with the prince, he's pretty!" Marella says it imperiously with a chintilt akin to her mother's only carried off with a disdain Thea rarely, if ever, uses. She's pointing a small finger right at Ers'lan, and obviously the little girl is smitten with his… ruffles (since she's too young to notice just how well those white pants are fitting). Of the absent Weyrsecond, Thea smiles at Matrin, "It's his loss. But thank you for the compliment. You look nice yourself. I'll see that my little princess saves you a spot on her dance card." She hasn't noticed Muir's escape yet, turns to spy Muir mid-rub to Fl'ynn's belly. "Oh, I'd better rescue him! Excuse me." Flashing him another smile kitty's off to save a dog. How ironic.

Lan has this swagger about him that was born on a ship. Nothing fake about that. He even keeps his chest up and his shoulders back, murmuring light words to the ladies he passes by, smiling devilishly to whisper of a dance and declining with a promise of a later turn and swing. The 'woof' has Ers'lan's attention, peering over faces to note the canine dressed fellow in the mix. From canine to wherry? Eyes turn to regard Keziah and the dress that she's crammed in. He doesn't immediately note the faces behind the masks, not attempting to figure out who is who - since that's not the point behind a mask after all! Eyes flicker over Mishkia, pausing some, then he continues to wander. He does stall as a food tray passes him by, managing to grab a few items. So far it's an observe and float situation, until he can work his way into something fun.

Fl'ynn looks rather expectant at a belly-rub. Yep, grin flashes bright upon his darker features (and the mask). At a movement, one of those oddly floppy ears flops quite limply. A chuckle falls from him, 'til the teen looks up and across to the others. Honestly, it is pretty obvious who he is, only thing that tilted mask hides is his telling dimples. The Captain gets a salute.

Mishkia isn't understanding the tension coming from Keziah. She gives the woman a puzzled glance as Matrin heads off. Back to Keziah she simply nods. "The Weyr is nothing like I imagined it. There's a lot of people. It's overwhelming." Understatement of the turn. "But I have a nice stone cottage in the woods to stay in while I'm here." She leans to look around the greenrider towards the table where Kezi points, spots Marella. "Aww. I want to draw her!" The second question, a rephrase of the first draws a blankly baffled look. "Well, yes! Everyone is really nice. I met a wherhandler!" Matrin returns then and she accepts her ale with a grateful, "Thanks!" She's right beside a table, so sinks into a chair, none too gracefully thanks to those heels. "How've you been Kezi?" Her accent is still Mire Hold, but yes, she's working on her enunciation.

The music is skillfully played by Journeymen called in just for tonight, and the bright melodies are infectious. It means that first a few couples and then several more liven up that blank span of pale wood with swirling skirts and tapping toes. Over near the serving tables, the roast pig which cooked in a pit beneath the beach sand all day arrives, borne on a stretcher carried by several strapping young men, and set back up on a spit over carefully arranged embers. A cook with a wicked looking knife stands by, ready to carve succulent choice slices, and the smoky scent wafts over the crowd.

Ers'lan notes the salute from the puppy and returns it with an impish grin underneath his own mask. It's likely that his attire alone gives away who he is, as not too many folks would idolize sea-captains. The only thing that would throw people off is his lack of scruffy whiskers. The salute was the ice breaker for him too. He did consider remaining but then he's trodding on over in his swagger of a step, holding out a beer stien in one hand while the other swings behind him to rest on the small of his back, "Evein' pup," his tone distinct and his accent a dead give away, a smile for Fl'ynn, reaching out to pat his head in a playful 'thump-thump.'

Daoi arrives from the Clearing
Daoi has arrived.

Keziah could possibly be easily recognized being as little as she is, or perhaps even with the hair color or her choice of beverage. Either way she grins "Well, perhaps you can ask her of she'll sit for you." she notes and then tilts her head a little "Which handler? Derin? Zafi or one of the others?" she asks curiously as she sips at her juice. As the Captain gets closer, Kezi is turning away. There's color to her face. "I am glad everyone has been nice and that you've a good place to stay." she murmurs. At the question she hmms "Busy." she says simply.

Thea reaches Muir at about the same time Ers'lan pats Fl'ynn on the head. She snags the belly-rubbing hand of the giggling child. "Enough of that now. Come eat." To Fl'ynn she murmurs a hasty apology and a laughing, "I'm sure you're going to get rather a lot of that tonight." She'd play skeered kitty and yowl, but he son is unmanageable enough as it is. As for Ers'lan, she simply smiles and greets him with an impish, "Captain, taking respite from the high seas, are you? Enjoy your visit." Then takes her son back where he was supposed to stay.

Fl'ynn :'s jaw drops, tongue lolls out as best it can, and the still barely teen leans in towards that head-patting by the Captain. "I'd wag my tail but I don't think I'm drunk enough left… that and I lost it back there, somewhere." A hand waves towards where the Harpers are playing. "It was a great tail. It had Kagenaith freaking out forever." Head turns, ear flops. "How as that salute? Not too bad, was it, Captain?" The bluerider turns to look towards Thea at her words, smile growing even wider to flash his teeth, "If I had known that, I'd have made this mask and wore it about far sooner." Shameless.

After handing Keziah her juice, Matrin only lingers for a beat. "Ladies, I think I am going to leave you in each other's capable hands and I am going to mingle for a bit. Both of you better save me a dance." He pauses on his way past to hand the ale that could have been for himself to the man in the dog mask, then slips into the crowd to do a bit of drinking, eating and dancing.

Ers'lan didn't seem to think the turn away from him was on purpose. It was a busy place and people were mingling. No harm no foul. Over at Fl'ynn's side, he chuckles as the head-patting causes the other to lean in. "Good pup," he amuses, hoisting his mug up to toast Matrin as the harper parts with his ale to shove it into Fl'ynn's hand, "Reckon yer thirst be quenched now mate." His blue steely eyes settle on Thea, the impish grin a dead give away if it wasn't for her son and the way she speaks. The reaction is a head bob, but that seems the extent of it, since his eyes flicker away some. Back to his fun loving friend. Right? "Reckon it be narh too bad a'tall." A sip of his ale, muttering, "Whar cha been up to lad?" This to Fl'ynn of course.

This isn't the time nor place to do it, but Mishkia asks anyway. "What's wrong Kezi? Yer not actin' like yerself." Forgetting her resolve to speak properly in her concern for her friend. Matrin's announcement has her looking a touch desperate. He's leaving her in this sea of people? As for the dance, he knows what she's got on her feet but she manages to nod weakly. Sure, sure, she'll be fine. "It was Derin. He crawled out of a ho- a den. But I didn't see his wher."

Thea caught that comment, Fl'ynn! He's given an over-the-shoulder laugh as she merges with the crowd. Shameless indeed, but he wears it well. As for Ers'lan it's likely she knows who he is especially when he speaks to Fl'ynn. She doesn't look like she's really expecting him to answer her nor particularly disappointed when he doesn't, but he's given a thumbs up of approval anyway before she's gone. He's got reason enough to be absent but he's here. She's got her hands full with both twins then, until at least Marella is whisked off to dance. Then it's to walking the perimeter with a growly-pouncy dragon-boy who tells more than one young lass he's doing sweeps, not dancing. All business, that one!

"Finally told my parents I impressed." I know, right? Shocking! Scandalous! It has only been a turn… or two… or more. Puppy-Fl'ynn grins from underneath his mask, although it is a grin that doesn't have quite so much flagrant joy and amusement in it, and shows just a touch more tightness. Masks are awesome for hiding most of it though. Ale in hand is good, because he'll be drinking that as well. "Oh, and traveling. Lots of traveling. Nature of a Comet. I-" He pauses abruptly, dark eyes alighting anew upon Ers'lan. "I'm boring. You are exciting. You tell me about you. I like drinking with you." DrinkDrink. Mask goes even more askew; ear more droopy.

"Dance?" She snorts a little "I don't dance." she notes and shakes her head. She quietly watches the otehrs as she too sits. "Wrong?" she asks and just smiles a little "I don't mingle very well." she notes and then shrugs "I typically only attend these functions under duress. I mean, I don't dance, I don't drink and well it's not very becoming to just pig out on the food I guess." Though her gaze does drift again to the food. "You could always take your shoes off to dance. I would never wear heels. At least not anymore. Last pair I wore. Lets see, my dress was torn, some poor fella got his foot practically punctured and I broke them anyhow." she notes. As for anything else, she certainly is not going to go into detail out here.

That admission makes Lan laugh! A good natured one, that rumbles deep in his chest. A bold grin for Fl'ynn, "Reckon I be surprised iffin they did narh know bout it befer ya told 'em. Silly pup." An amusement that holds in his eyes as he chugs a few more good swallows of his ale. Thea could make him go see all the healers she wanted, but no one could take away his one true cure - booze! "Good.. ya need ta get out thar a bit more and be seein the world fer whar it be havin ta offer," approval for the traveling. The sudden shift has Ers'lan looking down at Fl'ynn, "Harhar… Aye… excitin be the word fer it… Skillet ta the face durin a brawl, Zhao be winnin Alosynth's flight, baby…aumm.. babies comin cuz of it…be right cured of me harness snap, hah. Whar else… oh yes, bein wingsecond fer a few sevendays… t'was taken way because of yellin and screamin matches with Kezi, bit of misunderstandin thar… Seeing mindhealers now ta be allowed back to the wing… forced ta keep me distance from Kezi… Laera be gone fer who knows how long, she be havin a sick mum…Feline huntin in between…" He ponders as he squints his eyes, "Swordplay lessons from a bloke at Ierne and… I be thinkin that be it." MODEST ain't he? He huffs at Fl'ynn, "Yer missin out bein in Comet."

Mishkia is bombarded by the laughter and babble of voices, the music and the gaiety, overall punctured by the trumpets of dragons emerging overhead from *Between* - all sights and sounds she's unused to from her quiet swamp home. She is distracted enough to miss that there's something gravely amiss with her friend, but aware enough to catch that her mood is not one of revelry. "I could do that? Dance barefooted? It wouldn't be considered bad manners?" Weyr-etiquette is new to her! She grins at Keziah's story though, nodding. "Wise decision on your part. The woman in stores told me I shouldn't wear anything but these high heels else with this." Here she takes a two-fingered pinch of her iridescent costume and eyes it. She's catching snatches of phrases from over by the drinks table, Keziah's name in them is probably what catches her ear. Hey - she lives in the wilds and has a keen ear. Grey eyes widen as they shift from there back to Keziah. She mouths the word. Babies? Shouting matches, no she'll just not ask about that. Not out here.

Fl'ynn drinks and listens, listens and drinks. He runs out of booze, reaches out to claim more from whoever happens by who isn't spry enough to keep ahold of their drink. Shame on them. Bully on Fl'ynn. So back to drinking and listening, looking most serious to Lan's telling. He sooooo won't peek at Keziah. Nope. Nope. Nope. So won't. He'll keep his eyes on Lan. "So you are basically saying that your world became kind of hectic when I wasn't around. Understandable." Those words are quite seriously spoken, at least surface-deep. Sip. Sip. Grin. Honestly, that puppy-canine mask isn't getting much better as one side seems to loosen up, dropping 'til it is even more crooked. "Well, I'm here now." Dimples are hidden, but catch the wink?

Keziah catches some of those words and her face is going even redder now. There's a swallow and then all of a sudden Keziah reaches for Mishkia to pull her out to the dance square "Who cares about etiquette, lets have fun. Kick 'em off. And yes babies. Flight by product, not unusual." And she's kicking off her own slippers. Who said she said she doesn't dance. Best to disappear into the noise and the crowd and lose herself in obscurity since running off into the woods is an option she's supposed to try and avoid.

Ers'lan adds, "Oo.. reckon Zhao be missin a tooth, he gone dun chewed the tavern doors when I be knocked out, reckon that be costin me a fortune…" A hand settles on his hip, hooking his thumb into that crimson sash-belt, "Reckon some days be wishin I be on the waters sailin… be right easier than all this." There is a laugh for Fl'ynn reaction, "Dun be all serious bout it. Reckon I can dun nothin but cry or laugh bout it." He's deciding on booze and laughter at the moment. Tears might come later. Much later, when he's stumbling around dead drunk. "Aye, ya be here… aye aye… missin the whole lot of pickles in a barrel." A little edge closer to Fl'ynn, "Whar bout yee a Briana? Whar be goin on thar? Ya moved in or whar?" He always believed there was something fun going on between the two. The sudden flurry of women toward the dance floor has him cran a look that way, left wondering at the second look toward the smaller one. Was it? Could it? Naaaaaawwwwh.

Mishkia barely has time to kick off those ridiculous shoes as she's yanked out onto the dance floor with Keziah. "Butbut, wait. Did you run out of goldenthread? I thought I gave you enough last time you were in Mire Hold to last you a whole turn!" Oh ooops! She says that right as they pass Ers'lan and Fl'ynn, not that she notices. She's too busy eyeballing Keziah (because YES she did just say she didn't dance), then the other dancers. "These aren't like the dances back home…" Keziah's sudden reversal is simply adding to the confusion. "You start first." And she'll copy her.

To give the revelers and the Harpers alike a break, the pace of the music is slowed. Half of the little troupe goes to take a break, leaving the woodwinds to carry the sweet, harmony-rich tune. And when it ends they too will take a little break, encouraging the dancers toward refreshments as the musicians fill their plates and mugs alongside those they have entertained.

Sometimes you just have to show up at these parties fashionably late. Or, just plain late. Especially when you're a poor apprentice and your craft decides to make you work even into the scheduled dance time. But at least this particular apprentice shows up! Better late than never. It's debatable if people will recognize Daoi or not, she's not entirely well know except to a few of the gathered. Her hair is no longer in it's normal french brain and is instead left free to fall as it will. And fall it does, all the way to her waist and with a nice wave from being kept wound together all the time. Greenery has been wound into a thin crown to go around her head, speckled with small pale yellow flowers. The simple sleeveless dress she's aquirred matches the flowers, almost. It's made from light fabric that goes just below her knees, and a empire waist accented with a white ribbon. And as the event calls for, there is indeed a mask. Nothing fancy, just a white one over her eyes with green vine accents around the edges. The girl seems a little uncertain as she slips into the meadow, glancing around the crowd and hanging towards the edges.

Keziah blushes brightly "Umm, no?" she murmurs as she looks around at the other dancers. It's true Kezi doesn't dance, but she does remember the lessons she got in weyrlinghood. So she's not at a complete loss "Bad reactions, and I umm.. I got it for Mirai. I'm worried about her. Didn't wanna say anything." she murmurs and leads Mishkia through one of the simpler dances with the slower music.

Fl'ynn finally gives up on his mask, reaching his freehand up to push the thing up onto his forehead. No more obvious floppy ears, it is just Fl'ynn now. "Lan, I've just spent the last couple of months in Igen getting my arse…" He pauses again, for various reasons, one of them including Lan's notice of the women. His smile turns inward some, puckish on the outside. He finishes off the last in that stolen drink then reaches out as if to give his clutchmate a light pat on the shoulder for whatever reason.

Ers'lan catches the clip of conversation that runs by them… and stares after the women. If that was Keziah… he looks back at Fl'ynn for a time, as if to divert his focus. Yet, his eyes slowly climb back over his shoulder again to see where the women went. The brownrider dressed up as a Captain of the open waters flashes his gaze to Fl'ynn, "Whar? Igen…?" a hint of curiosity there despite the hedging interest toward the women. "Whar ya doing up thar with yer arse?"

Mishkia hooks arms with Keziah, and whoever is on her other side. She's fairly observant, swift to catch on. Tap-tap-step. Hooray for bare feet. Fleeting glances go from their feet to the greenriders determined-to-have-fun face. Oh this is greaaaat. Gabit's going to go home and tell them the Weyrfolk are crazy and she should go home NOW. But then… Wait, what? The music is slowing and couples are pairing off. "Hey Kezi, I love ya girl, but I'm not gonna hug you on the dancefloor in front of all these folks." Said laughingly, but hey - holdbred. "And I'm seriously thirsty." She unhooks her arms from both Kezi and the stranger on her left, skips off the floor towards the drinks table. Maybe some handsome stranger will snag Kezi for a dance now that she's out there actually… looking like she will say yes?

Fl'ynn might be a tad youthful, but he isn't dumb. Well, that is possibly debatable. Dark eyes slant after where Ers'lan is looking once more, smile twitching. TwitchTwitch. "Getting it handed to me by my parents, my… eh." He doesn't elaborate further, smile deliberately revitalized to deepen his dimples and cause crinkles to the corners of his eyes. "Keep talking about my arse and I'll start to think you are flirting with me, but I'm seeing that you have attention on another." Grin? Huge. Absolutely huge. Still puckish. And he still won't look at Keziah, nope.

Muir is still doing sweeps on the perimeter of the crowd and thus he spots Daoi entering late. He stops before her and gives her a long, long look. Long enough that his mother catches up to him. what comes out of the boy's mouth is likely learned from watching his father, or it may simply be in his genes. He smiles sweetly at the girl, who truly looks lovely and says, "Hiya Sweets!" Oh yes. Thea is speechless.

Ers'lan realizes what he said and how it must sound, chuckling as if he meant it too, "Aye… parents… reckon I dun believe that too much, but iffin ya say so." He knows that Fl'ynn's parents would've gone crazy in a bad way, but he still implies that there was something else keeping Fl'ynn up in Igen. Again, no confirmation on the goldrider scene. Alas. In any case, the man grins there for the flirting comment, "Yer arse is fine. Worth flirtin fer." He never hid the fact that he could flirt with both genders, though his eyebrow waggle might be hidden underneath his mask. As fer the remark about the other, he sighs, "Aye…" peering over his shoulder in time to see that the black wherry is left on the dance floor all by her lonesome. Lan debates, finishes his ale, then hands the empty to Fl'ynn, "Aye.. reckon I be witless bout this one. Dun know whar ta do bout 'er…" And the first step is a step undercover. No Weyrleader around to stop him. Clapping Fl'ynn on the shoulder he murmurs, "Reckon I be seein ya…" A shot of liquid courage (as it comes along in a tray) is tossed back as he weeds through the crowd, meaning to hook his arm around Keziah before she has the opportunity to flee the dance floor behind Mishkia. "Dance m'lady…" is the breathed askance in a rough sea-farrin accent.

Fl'ynn raises his drink to Ers'lan in salute, only to realize he is empty. Pout. "Damn." He wheels about to get another, hobbles a step to the side with the sudden movement upon a buzzed head, catches his balance (surprisingly) and goes to seek out more drink. "Where can a hound get some firewater? Arrrooooooooooo~" Totally keeping the dog mask. After the drink, he'll go seeking more belly rubs.

Daoi comes to a stop as a small child (more of a child than her!) plants himself in front of her. No bowling the weyrwoman's boy over, it'd be a bad plan so instead she tilts her head and glances down at him with a grin. "Hey." That's gotten out /before/ the greeting he gives which gets a blink… and a stare… his mom isn't the only one speechless it seems. At least the first sound that comes from her mouth is a helpless and quickly squelched giggle. The quickly caught off bit /may/ be embarressment, or simply distraction as a howling dog wanders by. "Weyrs are wierd"

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