Turnover Masquerade

Xanadu Weyr – Meadow

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.

Daoi: 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.

Derin: 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.

Ers’lan: 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.

Fl’ynn: 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.

Keziah: A shimering black gown comes to mid-calf, the edges trimmed in teal lace, and long thin teal diamonds play peek-a-boo in the gathers of the skirt. The bodice has a mandarin style color and the front is gathered as well, again with hints of teal peeking out. The sleeves are long and hug her arms while the cuffs flare out and are accented with teal lace. Her hair is pulled up and a barrate off teal and black lace holds in place. On her face is an intricate black mask with teal swirls along the cheek and a wherry beak nose that almost makes it slightly grotesque, but not. Black and teal feathers spring up from the upper ridge. On her feet are black slippers with teal higlights.

Matrin: In the spirit of the new turn, Matrin is garbed in black with teal accents. Pressed pants, tailored button down and buffed shoes are all inky dark, and a hint of sisal in the clothes gives them the subtle sheen of the shoes as well. A matte vest is black with a tiny teal pinstripe, and a tie in the brighter shade adds a real splash of color. The top half of his face is obscured by a mask which is simply carved but intricately painted. The color scheme is similar, with a black background, but swirls of teal, silver and purple wind and tangle, spilling into vines and tiny flowers and here and there glints of sharper things.

Mishkia: 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.

Thea: Thea is dressed in… fur. Thankfully the evening is cool enough not to have her sweltering in it. The velvet-soft tan is cloudy with spots - it's really a beautiful pelt that has been creatively cut and sewn into a sweeping ankle length gown with knee-high slits in the skirt. Affixed to her sleeveless top is a short cape, draped gracefully from her shoulders. She's wearing a small furred cap complete with feline ears atop her dark hair, which is upswept tonight into a swirl at the back of her head.

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 miah 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.

From the forest comes a lone figure, looking uncomfortable at best. At least perhaps that is why Keziah 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, obviously 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 approaches 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.

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.'

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 her 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?" Keziah 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 next 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"

Keziah is stranded, abandoned left to flounder for herself as she watches Mishkia head off. Then there is handsome 'stranger' suddenly in front of her. Squeak? If anyone needs liquid courage it'd be her. But alas, no one several accounts. "Dance?" Oh yeah, can we say suddenly brainfried? "Umm, yes?" What else does one do, when on a dance floor. She swallows a little. How does one dance again?

And Muir will take advantage of his mother's apparent absence (out of sight out of mind?). He's dressed like a rider in miniature blue leathers, goggles and helmet, but forget please, that he's got fake WINGS attached to his back, DragonBoy, in his best imitation of his dad's rough accent, "Ya wanna dance Sugar?" While behind him the Weyrwoman just gapes. Last week girls were 'icky' and 'stupid'. And he's not even nine turns old yet!

Ers'lan looks down at Keziah as his thick arm curls around behind her, the other reaching for her hand, "Reckon I jus saw ya…" he notes dryly, using her floundering to close the distance between their bodies. It's always better to dance at a distance close enough to feel the partner moving. Does his costume hold up to disguise him? Likely, had he not been talking about his misfortunes of late. At least she wasn't wearing heels. He's already guiding her in a sweeping circle step, taking his steps backwards at first as his head looks behind him to ensure they don't crash into other couples. The steps are slow and easy to follow, encouraging to her, "Ye can dance, I reckon I be seein yer feet move all on thar own jus moments ago."

Oh, there is a definite lack of knowing what to do going on with Daoi right now. This is /not/ the type of flustered dances are supposed to bring about, this is the 'how do I respond to prepubescent boy's best (and pretty good) imitation of a rather um… well… man?' Mouth moves for a moment as she contemplates the offer. "Well, first you've gotta learn manners." is said with a fine level of false sterness. "Lots of girls don't like names like Sugar and Sweets." Stalling tactics!

Thea's lips are moving but there's no sound coming out. Muir scowls, deep in thought. Manners, manners. "Ya wanna dance, please… Babe?" Okay there goes all his confidence, thanks Daoi. Hey - he's trying out all his dad's flirty names, what do you want from him? "My ma likes 'em when my da calls 'er that. She goes all happy and stuff." Yeah, no Muir. Don't go there please. Goggles tilt up at her, "I'ma blue rider." Translation: Swoon now please.

The Harpers break up the buzz of conversation by striking up another tune. This one is upbeat and jovial, perfect for dancing, as are many of those that follow. An occasional slower song gives the dancers a reprieve, and as the evening draws on now and then a performance piece finds its way into the mix.

Daoi can do the smirking here, though it's a facepalming moment as well which is disguised by adjusting her mask slightly. All the nose wrinkles nudged it a bit to the side after all. "Babe… not much better." is stated for a moment. "Well, some girls might like it, but usually not from someone they don't know. And anyhow, I'm not some girls. But the please is good… so yes, I'll dance. But you'll have to teach me the steps." Hey, she's never made claims to knowing how to deal with children.

Derin slips back into the meadow after a very long break, afterall, that runner costume was hot and stuffy and the miner needed a nice bath afterwards so he's not all sweaty anymore, and his hair is damp, curling this way and that one his head. Of course, now there's dancing and stuff, and the wherhandler just pauses, glancing around the area, perhaps he's scoping out the best place to watch the goings on without getting dragged onto the dancefloor.

Uh oh! The unforeseen flaw in his plan. She said yes! And he has to teach her to dance? Muir just sort of stands there. Into that pause, Thea finds her voice. "Muireadach!" It's the crack of thunder, rumble of DOOM voice, menacing all on it's own without having to lift the volume beyond the low-voiced calm-before-the-storm pitch it's at right now. "Mom's here gotta go do sweeps!" The tyke blurts out before tossing a very clumsy two-eyed wink (he's yet to master the one-eyed flicker his dad has perfected) and a lopsided grin at Daoi from behind those goggles. Then, even though he hasn't so much as looked behind at the looming mother-figure, he dips the shoulder she's just about to grab, easily evading her and takes off running.

Daoi is trying not to giggle, she really is. This results in a little tiny twitches in various parts of her face. Even the girl jumps at the booming voice, and it's not even her name. Boy gets a sympathetic grin and then he's running off. Now, /now/ is the time to giggle, and she can't seem to hold it back anymore anyhow. "He's… something." is managed before the bright grin is turned to Thea. "Takes after his dad?"

Yeah, her feet were moving because dancing with Mishkia is nothing like dancing with an Ers'lan. She's speechless though, which for Kezi is probably a good thing. So, through the dance she goes. Can we say deer in the headlights? Everything around her seems to disappear. Which might be a good thing, because Muir would likely have her howling hysterically in a fit of giggles or something.

"Apparently," mutters Thea and boy will his father get an earful when he returns from real sweeps later. Though, he'll just chuckle and say something like, ‘Ain't nuthin wrong with the boy.’ And they wonder why Muir is a handful! "You look lovely, Daoi. Oh hello Derin. Would you mind filling in for Muir and taking Daoi to the dancefloor, there's a lad." And she's off with a determined stride to shadow Muir until he tires. She'll get him and his little dog Toto too. Eventually.

Daoi blushes just slightly at the mention of looking lovely, tugging at the dress a little and not looking entirely convinced. "Dresses…. are wierd." is stated as a response, with a mumbled "Thanks" following belatedly behind. But the blush? Nothing compared to when it's suggested that Derin dance with her. Now /that/ is a brilliant red. "But…" Thea's already gone, no such luck.
Ers'lan tries to keep his eyes off her, just incase the woman would get nervous with a stare. The fact that she has fallen into silence is a good thing for both of them. As the music switches from slow to jovial, he flashes a grin at her and starts to jig with the rest of the crowd. It's one of those fun swing your partners 'round type dance, something fun where certain steps didn't matter and a person could just make up the steps as one goes. More of a hop-irish-type style of dancing for sure, taking her around the floor at a quickened pace. At the end of it though, he nods his head with a hand sweeping his hat off his head. It's with a grateful murmur of thanks that he allow her in the arms of another -or- allows her to escape the floor, or there is another option, remain out on the floor with him. It's entirely up to her as the music changes tempos again.

Derin just kind of stares at the departing Thea. "Uh." Yeah, that's his intelligent response. Yep, talk about deer in the headlights look. Derin has that exact same look on his face.

Keziah doesn't dance… no no no. And inspite of the fact that she is had no bearing on the matter. She certainly does /not/ slip off into anyone else arms. That's asking just a little too much of her. However, as they come to a pause in the dancing she admittedly doesn't run off with her tail between her legs. At the thanks, she licks her lips and tries to find her voice. "Welcome." comes the murmured reply and she just looks at Ers'lan. Maybe with a hint of wonder or perhaps seeing him in a whole new light. She's not saying though. But she stands there. Simply stands there. Now what? Umm. Sure, dance training taught her how to dance, but avoidance of social functions has left her sorely lacking.

At least Muir did not try to steal a kiss before running off? Which… totally will occur to the boy one of these days, much too soon to suit Thea. Daoi? Count your blessings. Derin, Thea could have asked you to do that for Muir, but she didn't, aren't YOU a lucky, lucky lad?

Daoi crosses her arms over her chest, but only briefly. One hand goes back to tugging at the skirt of the dress again and someone seems more than a little self concious. She did much better with the child than she is now. "Guess we gotta do what the weyrwoman demands. Do you even know how to dance?" Skeptical, yes. I mean, she's not expecting him to at all. Daoi also has height on Muir… he probably couldn't have stolen one unless he convinced her to lean over first.

The serving tables continue to remain nearly full, replenished by a seemingly neverending supply of kitchen workers arriving on dragonback. When a bowl does empty it's quickly whisked away and replaced by some other delicious tidbit before long. Now as the night draws on, a new table is set up at the end and within minutes it is covered in desserts. Cheese and fruit, sweet wine, pastries, bubblies and a great cake frosted in pristine white with teal accents offer something for everyone.

Derin was purposely not looking at the Daoi-in-dress, it's just weird, I mean seriously. Derin didn't even bother to get dressed up after he ditched his costume, he's still in practical boring work clothes, he didn't know there was a dress code honest. "Uh." Again, such an intelligent answer. He's just Prince Charming tonight isn't he? "I dunna..erm, I mean.." He frowns briefly. "I dunna know 'ow." Aww, well at least he's not trying to pretend he does, he doesn't want to wind up making a fool of himself in front of so many people.

Ers'lan gives approving mutters to couples who buzz by them, drawing up as he slips his hat back on his head - on loan from an actual sea-crafter no doubt. Whether the woman stares at him in a new light or not, the fact of the matter is that they're standing still on a seething moving dance floor with the music plusing in the background. He shrugs at her when she remains there, instead of going off on her own or with another partner. His response? He steps forward and retakes the lead, getting her into another dizzying dance of turns, twists, and merriment with the other dancers as he laughs and grins at them in passing. He's pulling her along, encouraging her own steps follow his own. He speaks quickly in moments that count, "Yer good…" sending her in a lady's turn and then pulling her back, teasing, "fer a wherry." Another moment passes by until he is able to sincerely tell her, "Yer lookin great… Be sorry fer narh bein a better 'second fer yah… reckon I should 'ave known bout yer fear…" and another step or two that swings them apart and into other partners arms, getting reunited after a few leaping steps and arm swings.

Daoi's giggle this time is a nervous one, but she can't help it as the poor tongue-tied Derin just repeats the same monosyllabic noise. "Well, I don't either. So least that's both of us." Eyes dart around for a moment in the awkwardness before she snags a drink off a bypassing plate with deft little fingers. It looks like juice to her! Who knows if it is or not, as the waiter doesn't stop, heck he doesn't even seem to notice.

Keziah is swept along again, and then there's a hint of a smile. Sweet Faranth, is she actually enjoying herself? Course the wehrry remark is met in silence, and then there's a soft headshake and, "You are too." she murmurs softly when she has a chance to amongst all the turns and spins. "For a scallywag." Course, bare feet dancing can only take so much and she finally lays a hand on his arm. Maybe kicking off the slippers wasn't such a bright idea? Especially with not dancing like that in Turns. His mention of trouble has her shaking her head a little. "Not here. Lets." There's a pause as she now pulls him off to the side. She's going to have blisters to be sure. "Let's enjoy tonight." She says quietly.

Dancing, like drinking, is a sailor's best friend. It's one way to enjoy an evening of music and such a culture was bred into the former-sailor, regardless that he's a dragonrider now. He grins for her scallywag remark, turning them and taking them around until her hand suggests no more. He takes the cue to lead off the dance floor, but in that process he takes the time to note a figure he knows from many a night drinking. Letting Keziah adrift for a moment, with a gesture that he intended to return, he comes up behind Derin and tosses his arm over the man's shoulders, curling it so that it's nearly a head lock. Ribbing him, he grins over at Daoi (not knowing it was Daoi), "Reckon this be 'ere me best mate. Ya go easy on him missy. Now get out thar…n' yee dun narh worry bout folks watchin. Jus listen ta the beat and let yer feet do the rest." He gives Derin a shove, muttering low enough, "Dun think bout it, jus do it." A pat on the back and Derin should know the voice of the brownrider by now to accept the encouragement from a friend. Letting them go, he whoots and hollars some, yanking a pitcher of beer off the tray - yes, a pitcher. Nuff of the pint stuff! He snakes his way back to Keziah, boastful over his claimed pitcher.

Derin is perhaps caught off-guard by the arm around his shoulders, and then the shove from his drinking buddy which catches is off-balance, sending him nearly smack dab into the Apprentice. "Ack, Ers..I can's.." But then the brownrider is gone and Rin's words are left hanging, plus the fact that he's now looking straight at the dress-clad Daoi. "Y'look nice." He manages out, and for some reason his cheeks take on their own tinge of red before he looks to another tray, snagging himself whatever drink that one holds. "So..uh..havin' fun t'night?" Yep, still not going to dance, nope, he'd probably hurt the poor girl's feet stepping on them anyway.

Daoi can't drink if she's dancing! Though, that may be a good thing as after one sip she sputters slightly. Maybe that's not what she should be drinking anyhow. Though… as there's no dancing happening she's going to attempt another sip. It's better than standing there doing nothing, this is awkward enough without /that/. "Just got here actually… Kyerin kept me late. But, someone left me this dress and the mask so I sorta had to come." No, she didn't go buy it herself, why would she ever buy something so… restricting as a dress? Yes, that seems odd, but climbing trees and running around really just doesn't work so well in them. "What about you?" Okay Ers'lan, that was a fail… but good attempt.

Keziah looks curious, nothing more, as Ers'lan slips off towards his drinking buddy. She takes the opportunity to seat and get off her raw feet. However, when Ers'lan comes back with that big pitcher of beer, she can't help but shake her head and then she smiles "What, nothing to drink for your dance partner?" she asks after a moment. She's trying to play. She is indeed. "Course, I'm thinkin yer pal needs it more. She herself hasn't really noticed that the young girl is indeed Daoi, but well. She may have and just not done any glaring about it. "Mayhaps he needs a little more encouragement?"

"Dun narh tempt me…" Ers'lan notes as he looks behind him to see that Derin is still stalling on the edge, shaking his head a little as he considers the table that KEziah has settled for. Her feet may be raw but this man-of-the-sea has legs to last the night through and feet. He mutters, "Reckon I could be teachin him ta dance… Ya reckon that'd be looking odd though…" He was considering dragging Derin out there on the floor himself! Eyes linger down to the pitcher of beer and back. He leaves the pitcher and manages to weasel around in the crowd for something else. Upon his return he settles a pitcher of juice in front of Keziah. "Would be offerin ya wine n' all…" he needs to say no more with a certain glance down. "Need ta go rescue 'em…" a note, as he hoists the pitcher and starts to thread his way back to Derin. Once there, he looks at the awkwardness between the two. He thrusts the pitcher - slopping over and all - at Derin (hoping the other would take it), "Drink up 'mate. Ya get some courage out of thar yet." A wink as he offers his arm to Daoi, "Ya needin a warm up spin?"
hoists the pitcher of beer*

Certainly there is no need for wine for Kezi, pregnant or not. And certainly not a pitcher full. She settles back into her seat, she'll sit quietly. She's gotten good at this quiet business. Course, she's not one to drink straight out of the pitcher. She's no Neanderthal with a need to protect a man card and so she flags down a clean glass with a murmur of thanks. Pouring the juice in she settles back. Will Daoi dance with Ers'lan or will Derin leap forth and protect the virtues of his new found love. Stay tuned for another exciting episode of How The Weyr Turns.

Derin has a beer pitcher thrust at him, at least he accepts it instead of wearing it. He glances at the pitcher, then at Ers'lan, and then just looks at the beer, shrugging and taking a nice long drink as Ers'lan offers the girl his arm. Yeah, Rin's not quite that brave, nope. Human interaction, yeah, not his strong point really. There won't be any leaping from Derin, though, his buddy there is way more comfortable with these kinds of things. And so Rin will drink…and watch to see if the gil goes with the rider or kicks him somewhere instead.

Daoi doubletakes as the man returns already and there's a blink but she says nothing. That is… until he offers her his arm with the promise of a dance. Well, okay, maybe she still doesn't say anything then. Instead Derin gets a brief glance before she hands him that glass of something minus a few steps and shrugs her shoulders. "Sure, I guess." Hey, why not? Though as she follows the man out there's one last glance back at Derin and his pitcher of booze. If she recognizes Ers'lan as the man from the tavern or not is anyone's guess.

Ers'lan too gives Derin a meaningful glance. Trying to do a guy a favor! Ers'lan shakes his head a little as Derin remains stubborn and standing on the edge of the dance floor. "Reckon he dun think his feet be fast 'nuff," Ers'lan explains, "Next it be him I grab out 'ere." All jokes aside, the music earns a quick listen before the brownrider positions himself with Daoi, sweeping her in to test her balance and see if she's quick to follow his lead. If she's not, his dancing will take on a simpler form, if she is, he'll try out the more advanced steps. It all depends. Which ever way they go, basic or not, Lan's watching the other couples, sweeping them through gaps and avoiding bumping into anyone.

That could be because Derin's feet aren't fast enough. He watches as Daoi is led away by Ers'lan..and just stares into that pitcher before taking another long drink. He also glances around, fight or flight response afterall, and his is mostly always flight. Oh well, at least he's got free booze, right? That pitcher of beer and whatever it is that Daoi had to drink. He thinks about it, but still he doesn't go charging after the pair.

Daoi can't help it, there's a bright grin and a little momentary giggle at the idea of Ers dragging Derin out as well. "I think you should." But that doesn't mean she's not going to have fun on /her/ spin around the dance floor. She's quick on her feet and good balance which means no tripping over her own /or/ his feet. Not that they're going in the right places at the right time either but that's picking apart the little details. After a twirl or two she's concluding that skirts and dresses /can/ actually be quite fun. They go swirly!

Keziah watches as Ers'lan swirls Daoi around the dance square and stands up, wincing a little at the tender feet and slips out onto the. Nice and cool on the feet. Perhaps now is a good time to slip out while everyone is otherwise occupied. Course, stomach has other opinions and so, instead of slipping off home, she takes pitcher, glass and slips off over towards the food. She's hungry. And so Kezi just slips in amongst the crowd and goes poof?

Ers'lan purposefully sweeps them by the edge where Derin was standing, contemplating booze over women! There can be a good mixture of both! It could be the music is too fast for Derin, but he makes sure that Daoi is doing her swirly skirt thing in front of Derin's eyes, holding his arm up to get Daoi to twist underneath him a few times. Again, another meaningful look cast at Derin. It doesn't last long though, since he has to look down at his partner and smile, encouraging her on into a few more quick steps and sweeping turns. Did he just pivot them back around to dance right by Derin again? Ohhhh yes he did. The music is still jovial and upbeat. That could be the problem. In a moment that he can talk to Daoi, he asks, "Yah like 'em do yah?" a pitch has them looking at eachother in a salsa shoulder to shoulder turn, then back the other way, until he sweeps her in again, checking over his shoulder a few times in the process.

Derin is watching Ers as he shows off. And he aims a frowny face at the pitcher of beer. What the heck is he supposed to do anyway? Pitcher is dined, maybe quicker than he anticipated, and the empty is peered into before being set on a table. He may regret this when he falls all over the floor, but he's gonna do it anyway. And so he pushes his way onto the dancefloor towards where he last saw Ers and Daoi.

Hello captain obvious! But Daoi will grace the question with a suitable blush of a reply. "Doesn't matter though" Apparently she doesn't have too much hope for Derin returning those feelings… or maybe just no hope of him ever doing anything about it if he does. Those words get interspersed between twirls and steps and let's hope she's not getting too dizzy. But, she has no chance of going any further with the statements if she was planning on it, because Derin is incoming at this point. Really, the booze is not going to help his coordination but that might be helpless anyhow.

Ers'lan tries to keep his eyes over his shoulder, to keep them positioned where he can flaunt Daoi and her swirly skirt some for Derin's sake. Lan catches the responses from Daoi, smiling some at her discouragement, "Aye lass, but 'ti 'do matter. Give 'em time 'n be patient. Yanno 'em be in cave 'n 'e dun see daylight much 'n I reckon he ain't be seein sunshine like ye much." His accent has grown thicker the more the night has worn on, loosening up and forgetting the pesky things. The incoming Derin has the masked Lan grin and position himself just right so that with a spin, Lan is bumping against Derin. A perfect time for the wherhandler to cut in.

Keziah has found herself a nice quiet, relatively, spot away from much of the crowd and sits in the shadows as she enjoys some food. It's good and no sense in wasting it, and since she really hasn't been eating well of late, it's likely about time she has. Course with the amount of people between her and the dancing, she unfortunately misses seeing Derin determindly, or is that drunkenly, head out onto the floor.

Derin probably doesn't exactly know what he's going to do once he reaches the pair. He hadn't quite gotten to that part of the plan yet. And then, before he has time to think about it, he's upon Daoi and Ers'lan, and Daoi is incoming, sorta. A tug on his collar and Rin is awkwardly trying to claim Daoi, of course, once he has her…he has no idea what he's gonna do with her.

Ers'lan is a gentleman when it comes to passing off a lady to another on the floor, he takes Daoi's hand and slides it into Derin's. Or maybe he just wanted to get Derin on the dance floor. Something like that. The man dressed as a Captain, tips his hat to Daoi and thanks her briefly before he's leaving the dance floor. An odd ball look goes to where an empty pitcher does lie… a dart of a glance back with a wince for knowing. "Aye… liquid courage…" a half mumble to himself as he goes to hunt down another drink.

Daoi sadly doesn't seem all too reassured by the words of encouragement, but doesn't really need to come up with a response, and definitly doesn't have time for it. Because suddenly she's face to face with Derin and her feet fumble for the first time. Hey, she wasn't expecting that sudden a stop! On the other hand, at least it give Derin a place to start, namely catching the girl so she doesn't land face first on the dance floor. "Um… hi." Right, brilliant.

Zafirah makes her way down to the meadows. Zask really wasn't keen on staying behind, but she was settled now and Zafirah has the opportunity to perhaps indulge herself for a little bit. As she takes in the dancing people there's a little frown and then she shakes her head a little. Maybe if she found the right dance partner. But, Sr. Appy is going to indulge and indulge lightly. Where's some of that delicious wine now.

What Derin does is now up to Derin. Ers'lan got him as far as he could, the rest the Wherhandler had to continue. There is a mug taken from an unoccupied tray, a second grabbed just because the opportunity presented itself. He's already swallowing down a good chug or two since he worked up a good sweat on the floor. The mask didn't help, nor the hat. In fact, he tosses the hat on the nearest table, straddles the bench seat, and rolls up his face mask to wipe his face with the sleeve of the tailcoat. He's not sure where Keziah went, since she's no longer at the table he left her at and he has yet to see the addition of a second wherhandler.

Derin looks at the dress-clad Daoi, taking her hand from Ers'lan. "Uh." Yep, there's that ever so articulate uttered syllable again. But he shakes it away. "I'm nay sure I kin do s'good a job as 'im, but I'd, erm, like ta try..iff'n ya like?" Nervouse little stutters? Nope, nothing like that.

Keziah is happy enough watching everyone else as she enjoys sweet succulent pig, or whats left of it after much of the hoarde hit it. And though she's in shadow, it likely wouldn't be that hard to find her. Course, does she end up going home alone tonight or will she be carried off into the night? Hmm…

Zafirah catches sight of Derin out there on the dance floor. She can't help but smirk a little. "Well lookie that." she murmurs to no one in particular "HE's done and got himself a girl." she nods and then grins "Well dang, guess I shouldn't try and snag him meself." Not that she likley would outside of waatching him squirm.

Daoi clings a moment to that hand /and/ a shoulder as she regains her balance. Admittedly Derin's feet aren't moving so her own have come to a standstill. "Just shut up and dance." is finally said after his ramblings with a rather bright grin on her face, hopefully that will soften the blow a little. Well, Ers'lan did everything he could /and/ she got a fun spin around the floor. It's really win/win.

Leave it to Lan to find himself caught up in a friendly rabble, as blokes from the seacraft come by to pester him about his fancy foot work - and his fancy clothes once he reveals his face. Grilling him hard, at the end of it, Lan scoops his drinks and joins the muscle, heading off toward another part of the Turnover festivities down at the docks, this one promising a little rowdy sportsmanship. It is unlikely that it is condoned in the Weyr, which is why it happens on a ship deck, but when there's booze involved there is likely marks and blood mixed in - which means a sporting round of fighting.

Derin blinks at Daoi. "Uh..'kay?" And he starts to move, awkwardly likely, his feet definitely aren't quick enough for the current music, but he's trying, he really is. Looking towards the other dancers, the wherhandler tries to imitate…yeah, this will probably be an epc fail.

Zafirah pulls up a chair. This she has got to watch. Sure, she may not dance, but that doesn't mean she doesn't enjoy watching others do it, and if she wolf whistles a few times. Ah well, she's no lady.

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