Visiting Western's Costume Party

Western Weyr - Lagoon Shore
A sandy beach running along the edge of the lagoon, between the sparkling waters and the bowl. Sometimes riders and dragons are seen playing in the water nearby or a dolphin can be seen cavorting. At other times seacraft can be seen coming in under the arch to dock. The lagoon is large enough to fill a quarter of the length of the bowl. A path winds out along a ledge out to the docks to the southwest, the lagoon to the west and the bowl to the east.
It's dusk and the beach has been set up for the party. Torches are scattered about the area and there is a big bonfire going in the middle of the beach. Around the fire there are seats and tables set up with food and drink on them.

It's early autumn at Western, which means it's still quite warm out. There's a few clouds in the sky as evening approaches and Rukbat starts to sink below the horizon. The torches are lit around the beach as people start to mosey over or fly in. A few of the drudges are still laying out the food. Lots of finger foods and meats and cheeses and sausages to make sammiches with. There's also plenty of drink to be had, both with alcohol and without. Zi'on is one such rider to arrive, Suldith landing a bit away from the bonfire in the center of the beach, then heading off to the water once his rider has dismounted. Zi'on is wearing a wig of wild black hair and clothes that look rather normal. Though they're not very normal for the Western weyrleader. He moves over to the goodie table to pop a few tiny cannoli-like pastries into his mouth before pouring himself a glass of punch.

A party it may be, but V'ric doesn't look particularly excited about it. But he is /present/, and that has to count for something. He even made something of an effort at the costume bit. …A slight one. There's a mask in place over his eyes. It counts. But the browrider calmly wanders his way down onto the lagoon shore, with fingers briefly giving a frustrated scrub through his hair.

Idrissa got a ride from Xanadu on one of the transport dragons that was on the way out to Western for the party. She gives her thanks to the rider once she has hopped down from the dragon. Pausing she brushes off her clothing, pulling her tunic down a bit after pulling her jacket off. A blue firelizard rests upon her shoulder, the blue is rather scared and gnarly looking, and one wing bare thick scars but his look matches her outfit to some degree at least. Soon Rissa is looking around to see if her friends are to be found. Kale was coming though on another dragon to make the whole mystery of his costume that much more a mystery it seems.

It isn't long before Ila'den and Iris arrive, the pair winging in on Shadhavarth and Teimyrth. It takes awhile to get situated and come over to the party- Risali is in tow, after all. The two smallest ones stayed home with a sitter who will join the party when Ila and Iris go home, but Risali refused to stay home. And besides, what is cuter than a three turn old pirate queen, dressed up to match her mother? The family eventually makes their way over to the party, Iris leading the way as Ila'den bears his daughter on his shoulders, the girl laughing and fisting his hair as they arrive. Zi'on is noticed first, and Iris freezes when she takes him in, tilts her head. Brows furrow, and she glances back at Ila. "He… he's not trying to be /you/, is he?"

One of Western's healers, at least, is present in an incredibly boring costume. That is to say, Izkas pretty much looks like himself off-duty, though he's in nicer clothes than usual — a jacket that looks like it's made of dyed blue leather and a nice pair of black pants rather than his usual mildly-tattered beige shirts and hem-torn pants. Even his hair is brushed and pinned back. He's evidently gone for elegant, in absence of ability to come up with any sort of costume. He's also got two drinks: one dark and red, and one that looks like water.

ka-el has arrived on Western by dragonback, and … oh, a new season! Xanadu's springtime is left behind in favor of Western's autumn, though the change of temperature is not a drastic one. His costume still works. …Oy. His costume. Kale is just slightly self-conscious about most aspects of it. From the radical color of his hair, to the way it's standing up every which way, to the painted half mask on his face. This definitely was not his doing! A bronze firelizard is with him, looking regal as he rides along for now, head craned and wings slightly fanned out. Kale follows the group that arrived with him, a few other Xanadu folk mixed with people from other weyrs, all dressed in various ways. Some elegant. Some funny. Some with masks. Some without. But all ready for a party!

Iolain doesn't arrive from anywhere. He lives here. He's also not wearing shoes, so make of that what you will. He is currently busy trying to figure out if he'll be able to sneak food while it's still being put out, standing off to one side of a large refreshment table with one arm around his middle and his hand propped under his chin. He looks quite focused, really, but rather like someone who knows they need to study for a test and is putting it off, lingering on the edge of any real action. Lazy? You could say he looks lazily focused, if that's possible. However he looks, he's wearing a fishing net and waiting for snacks, so it takes him a few minutes before he even lifts his head long enough to realize other people have appeared. He blinks a couple times, then drops his arms, looking around curiously (and showing only a little bit of surprise).

Idrissa catches sight of Kale as he is getting off a dragon, she smiles and chuckles while she turns and moves on towards where he happens to be. "Kale!" She calls out as she moves along working on catching up to him. Ripley lets out a faint hiss at the bouncing movement but doesn't try to take flight, though his wing may limit just what flying that lizard could possible do.

And there's Ila'den, dressed in black from head to foot with a mask covering half of his face and a billowing cloak clinging to his shoulders. There's a hood somewhere along the back, but it seems that it's been allowed down for now, in order for Risali to have at and abuse her father's hair freely. His mask is in the shape of a dragon, protruding just slightly into a half-snout at his nose. Iris' attention to Zi'on bring the weyrsecond's attention to his boss, and then…? Laughter. "Zi'on," he calls out, shifting his little pirate queen from shoulders to beachy floor. "I think I am in love!" Risa, in the mean time, will cling to her mother's skirts, all the while babbling in excitement at her uncle V'ric. HORRIBLE COSTUME IF THE LITTLE ONES CAN SPOT YOU. Which is exactly what Ila'den lets his best friend know when he singles the brownrider out in the crowd. "Horrible costume, V'ric. Even Risa knew that it was you." Arms go around the brownrider's shoulders, then around Iris' and he pushes the two towards Western's Ila-impersonator. But do not thing for a moment he doesn't spot the others in their own costumes. Kale is given a particularly long once over, but Iolain takes the cake. "Risa, close your eyes," he murmurs to his daughter, but the little child looks around wildly before shrieking, "Butt! Butt!" and giggling with joy. Such a mass of characters to meet! How exciting.

Zi'on spots V'ric amongst the crowd and pours a second glass of punch. Then he heads over to place it into the hand of the brownrider. "Here you go, Vel! Drink up. I see the darned harpers are late." The harpers were indeed late. In fact they were just arriving and beginning to get set up. After they had a bit of food and drink, of course. Zi'on is, in fact, trying to be Ila'den. Though he was too tall and not muscular enough. He could at least fake Ila'den's renegadish garb though. The bronzer spots Izkas as he moves through the crowd, and clinks his glass against the healer's. "Double fisting it, eh?" There's a blink as he spots Iolain. "What is that supposed to be?" Iris and Ila'den go unnoticed until Ila is calling to the weyrleader. "Eh? Heh. I thought about going as my father, but I look terrible as a blonde. So I picked the next best weyrsecond I could think of." He laughs at Risa. "Apparently your daughter is a butt-gal. Maybe she wants to see mine, too?"

"Sip of water for every sip of wine," Izkas replies sagely, small hint of a grin on his face. "Perfect method to not even come close to even remotely bordering on the idea of getting drunk." Partially just that it's wine, partially the hydration. Either Izkas is paranoid about being intoxicated or, more likely, he's just concerned he might need to go back on-duty at a moment's notice and still wants to be able to enjoy the wine. Risali is making him laugh, though, and he doesn't even bother trying to hide the growing grin with a glass.

Hearing his name, Kale turns around, spying Idrissa after a little searching. "Oh, hey!" he greets with a wave, his loose sleeve flopping around a bit. He heads towards her, ignoring Ripley's hissing as usual, as does Alloy, who just looks more pompus and regal as he ignores the blue. "You look grand," he compliments of her costume, reaching around to tap the quiver that's attatched to her back. "You look ready to be off in the woods, wherry hunting," he continues, smirking a little. "Have you seen the other costumes? Some are rather good. They must've worked on them for weeks." And some, maybe for a few minutes!

V'ric grunts faintly at the weight of Ila'den's arm landing on his shoulders, throwing a somewhat flat look at his friend. "It isn't a horrible costume if it isn't meant to be one." After all, there was quite a bit of poking and prodding to even get him /to/ such a gathering in the first place. Still, he swats at the bronzerider's arm faintly, brushing aside the grip..only to be assaulted by a punch glass. The man just blinks a moment at finding it /there/, in his hands, before giving Zi'on a stare. A quiet….appraising…stare. Then just lifts his glass in mock salute at the Ila'den doppleganger. "That is…creative." Or creepy. The draw of attention to fish-net and skin has the brownrider's brows lifting faintly, fingers following to rub at the bridge of his nose. "I don't even want to know.. ..And keep your pants on, Zi'on." No almost-niece of his is going to be subjected to /butts!/ But at least he does take a swig of the punch pushed on him.

Idrissa smiles and nods while she peers curiously at Kale watching him a few moments. "Let me see Does it involve something you work with?" She questions with an amused tone. At the comment to what she is wearing she turns about a moment. "Like it?" A faint smirk is seen as he comments about her going hunting. "Well I guess it is easy to figure out." She looks over some passing people. "I've seen some. I didn't think people would get so dressed up." She was so wrong it seems.

Iolain isn't unaware of the sudden attention, looking away from the group at large to turn his eyes curiously to Risa. He crouches down, propping his elbow on his knee and his hand under his chin as he says, tone rather laconic, "That's right. Good job." The question from Ila'den, even if it is rhetorical, earns an equally as unbothered answer from the trader, who says simply, "A butt, apparently." He pushes himself easily back up into a proper standing position, ruffling his fingers through his hair as he looks down at himself, "It was meant to be a fish or something, but honestly it can be summed up as apathy." He shrugs, waving his hands broadly in an unconcerned gesture, then dropping them to look aside at Zi'on and V'ric thoughtfully. Feeling helpful, he points out, "Unless taking your pants off is something he would do, of course." He jerks his thumb at Ila'den when he says this last, then turns for the sake of snagging a treat off the table to pop into his mouth.

Iris stares at Zi'on another long moment, shaking her head as she laughs. "Mimicry is the highest compliment?" In the meantime, she heads for the food tables, Risali clinging to her skirts and following along even as the toddler's attention bounces all around, most of all staring at Iolain and his nearly naked costume. V'ric gets a grin as the pirate queen skirts around him to get glasses of punch for herself and Risali, spinning to move Risali around and away from staring at the fish costumed man. She takes a gulp from her daughter's cup so there is less to spill, then, "Drink this, dear," she murmurs as she hands the glass to the toddler. Who immediately takes a sip and throws the cup at V'ric (not that it would get very high). Getting in the spirit of a party much? Iris sighs long-sufferingly and picks the glass up. "Sorry Vel."

"Apathy: now defined as wearing a net on your head. So noted," Izkas grins at Iolain, for all he doesn't really know him — Izkas is that kind of guy, if you walk past him, he will at least smile at you! "Or rather, you're a caught fish. It's a good look." Suddenly everyone wants food, which is making his hovering by the food and not actually taking any hard — he's forced to reshuffle his drinks and actually balance them both in one hand while he grabs some sort of treat on a stick. The third arm he wanted did not grow in.

"Yes," replies Kale to Idrissa, grinning. "And no, I didn't come up with this myself. Did you know Xanthius is back on Xanadu for a bit? And in the … brief amount of time he's been here, he conjured this up." He gesturees ot his whole self with his hand. "S'a wonder he's not a Master already." He shakes his head. "I like your costume. It's very normal looking. I don't know how he convinced me to do this. But .. at least it's covering," he says, making a gesture to Iolain.

Idrissa ehs softly at the talk of Xanthius being back, oh ya she knows he is back. "Ya I saw him the other night actually." They even talked for a few moments before craziness took over and she fleed while the fleeing was good. A smile is seen and she glances to her costume a moment. "Thanks. I thought it was sort of nice. Totally different than anything I'd normally do after all." She glances back towards where most of the people are heading. "So, want to head over to the others?" There is a pause while she glances towards where he is gesturing and she blinks a few times.

Zi'on peers at Izkas. Peers! "You don't -want- to get drunk? Why not? What's the point then? You healers need to learn how to relax. Toss that water crap away." He pokes at Izzy's clear liquid glass. V'ric has taken a drink! Success! He grins to the brownrider. "I'll try." Is his only response to V'ric's warning about keeping his pants on. He looks to Iolain, then to Ila. "I dunno. He might. Iris is here after all. I guess it's a good thing the party is at night. No one likes burnt hams." There's a laugh as Risali throws her drink at V'ric. "I take it she's not a fan of your 'costume' V'ric." Zi'on finishes off his punch and then squats down to open his arms out to Risali. "Come give uncle Zi'on a hug!"

Ila'den looks… amused at the thought of Zi'on and his dropping of pants, and even more amused when he calls himself 'uncle Zi'on'. "Tell him that he has an old butt, and then tell him no." he whispers to his daughter, and amidst her drinking, cup throwing, butt ogling celebration, Risali pauses long enough to look at Zi'on and giggle. "Old butt! No!" she manages, slaughtering the pernese language in the process. She does, however, take clumsy steps towards him for hugging. What a girl. When Iolain goes down into a crouch and speaks to Risali, the former renegade's attention is drawn right back to the fish-out-of-water, along with the toddlers. "My pants are, unfortunately, staying put. We might be able to convince Iris to lose the skirts, though." Yes, wicked brow waggling at his wifey, evil glare for his best friend. "Creative? That's the best you can come up with? I was thinking /sexy/—something along those lines."

V'ric offers Iolain a mildly thoughtful expression, lips twitching. "It's possible." Who knows what parts of Ila'den's clothing might go randomly flying off? The night is young! …But then there's wetness as that cup goes sloshing across his leg. He stays still for a moment, looking down at the stain across his pants with a slow exhalation out of his nose. "It's alright.." It's offered quietly, even as the brownrider leans to pick up the tossed cup, offering it back over to Iris. "Perhaps she's not a fan of this..punch." He slants a look at Ila'den though, snorting. "Shall I get you a mirror to make out with?"

Iolain has that same quiet thoughtfulness to him as he pats his head, then shrugs and points at Izkas, "It's not on my head. It's on my butt. That's the focus right now, it seems." He watches the cup go sailing through the air and cocks his head to the side a bit, propping his hands on his hips after disappearing something else into his mouth - a cracker? cheese? meat? The world may never know. He licks his thumb and points out, more to Risali than her parents, "You should say you're sorry if you throw something at someone." There's not much admonishment to his tone; he just sounds like he's sharing general information. Whatever the case, he continues philosophically, "Dressing up like a mirror would be a trick."

Iris giggles. Yes. Her daughter is thoroughly amusing. V'ric is grants a laughing grin. "Probably she's not a fan of it," she agrees, then hoists Risali up once Ila'den stands again. She spins the girl around and shakes her head at Ila'den's suggestion. "Please. I'll only loose the skirts in the confines of /our/ home, m'love!" Unless it is time for a swim, in which case she'd be one of the first to strip down and jump in the water. Because water is fun! But Risali is distracting, and laughing maniacally for a three turn old. "Old butt! Old butt! Fish butt! Fish butt! Butts! Butts!" Iris can't help but laugh as she uses her free arm to fill a plate with food. "I'm going over there to eat, darlin. Have fun with your doppelganger over there!" She leans over to Ila'den to plant a kiss on him before the pirate queen and her daughter head over to a table to actually eat.

Kale laughs and nods in agreement with Idrissa. "Yes I do. And I'd love to get something to eat while we're at it," he says, eyeing that food and drink table hungrily. That's the best thing about parties. Eating and drinking! Especially the eating. And most definitely the drinking off the right types of drinks. He offers an arm before heading to the congregation of folk, just in time to hear a little voice cackling about butts of all kinds. Fish butts. Old butts. Woah, butts!

Zi'on laughs. "She must think I'm you if she thinks I have an old butt." Though since she's still coming over for a hug, Zi'on gives her one, scooping her up to hold her at his hip. "You and Ezio need to have a play date I think, Risali. You like to play, right?" The bronzer pokes her nose, then sets her back down to cling to Iris. Or be picked up by her or whatever. "There's no promises on my pants though. Once I've had enough punch." He waves off Iolain. "She's too young to understand." Zi'on then wraps an arm around Ila's shoulders. "Who needs a mirror when you've got a doppelganger?" It's short lived though, because Zi'on is moving back towards the drink tables. Until he spots Idrissa's quiver, then he's looking to carefully pilfer an arrow from it.

Ir'e didn't mean to be a bit late, but you know, when squeezing your ass into something that is most definitely not made for your gendereven if custom made specifically for youthings just never go like they're supposed to. Thankfully he's at least managed to find someone (probably Keely) to watch his extra kidlet so his arms are free, well, mostly free. He does have a bulging bicep wrapped around his lankier weyrmate, the one without the sleeve, oh look, he even shaved his hairy arms for the occasion. "Next bet, I'll definitely win." The bluerider grumbles half-heartedly at his bookworm with a wide grin spread across his lips.

Idrissa smiles and nods while letting her arm curl around Kale's and follows along with him towards the tables that have all that lovely looking food upon it. As for the bit on butts? Oh ya she catches it as well and tilts her head curiously. "Interesting conversation." This is murmured softly to Kale. Butts butts, buts of all kinds? Here's a butt, there's a butt. Zi'on may have been able to get a arrow out if it wasn't for that blue firelizard upon her shoulder. Ripley lifts his head, a hissing growl escaping the scared up blue while he eyes the arrow thief!
In response to Zi'on's comment, Iolain just tilts his head in the other direction and shrugs again, his attention turning to V'ric. After a moment of thought, he once again proves how helpful he is by gesturing to himself and offering, "You can borrow my pants, if you like." He makes the offer with a completely deadpan expression, free hand still loosely propped against his side. He'd put it in his pocket, but, well, those are scarce at the moment.

Rhabel remains tucked away under the arm of his much larger 'mate, and where most people would probably be poking jabs or enjoying their lover's misfortune with a smile, Rhab is curiously… blank. "You're too stupid to win a bet," the bookworm informs the brownrider without any inflection in tone. "But next time I hope you do win. You look horrible in that dress." No, there are no familiar faces here for him, aside from the few, vaguely familiar ones. He will just stay tucked away alongside Ir'e, looking as if he's the only person here not enjoying himself.

To the sweets! Kale's hungry eyes zero in on the dessert portion of things first, pausing to pluck a few treats on a plate for he and Idrissa both. Ripley's hiss? Ah, that's normal. He likely assumes it's directed at him, as it always seems to be. "What is it that I've done this time, Ripley?" he says exasperatedly, his own firelizard alighting from his shoulder to take wing and explore above. After plopping a small cake onto his plate, he looks to Idrissa, then Ripley, then past the arrow plucker and onto Ir'e. Blink, blink. Stare. Nope, his eyes are not deceiving him! "Is this masquerade a contest? Is there voting? Cuz I'd definitely vote for him!" Any man brave enough to walk around in a woman's dress and make up deserves a vote!

Ila'den watches the two loves of his life go, and then finds himself under Zi'on's arm. It's strange to have to look /up/ at somebody for once, but he does- with a roguish grin. "All you need to do is ask, big boy." But then Zi'on is gone, and Ila is left to his own laughter, which only increases in volume when he spots Ir'e. There. Are. No. Words. No, he can only jab V'ric in his ribs, and motion, and dissolve into more laughter. Men in dresses. Win.

V'ric shakes his head a moment, but then Iolain is making such a very kind offer. To which the brownrider…stares at him. His eyes rove downward, then back up again, one brow raising ever so slightly. "How kind." The deadpan is mimicked…or really just /normal/ for V'ric, before there's a grimace at the elbow suddenly in his ribs. …And…well there's a man in a dress, which earns a fair bit of an eyeroll. "And this is why /you/ were not allowed to dress me for this.."

Zi'on jumps when he spots Ir'e. His wig almost falls off and he has to adjust it a bit. "Shards and shells. You make a horrible woman Ir'e." Ir'e's arms might be free of his kidlet, but not of hair. Nor are his legs. The bronzer peers at the tiny blue that his squawking at him. "Shh." As long as the blue isn't going for a bite of bronzer finger Zi'on will try again. Unless Idrissa is on to him of course. Or someone else gives him away. Why does he want an arrow anyways?

Idrissa hears Ripley and is about to look over and see what is going on with the bluelizard, though she hears Kale instead and is peering at Ir'e. She blinks a few times and she clears her throat not to sure what to say at all. Though the voice that is right behind her makes her look back an peer up at Zi'on a moment. She blinks, her bright green gaze looking confused. "Ah… Hi?" Yep she is a wee bit confused. Ripley shifts on his haunches, another slightly hiss escaping him before his person is finally able to make him calm down.

Ir'e gives a pouty look, which looks really ghastly considering his makeup and the worry lines he's gathered over the turns. "You know just how to wound me with those words." He reaches up with his free arm and splays his hand across his chest. Oh hey, matching nail polish! "I just thought you'd look hot in a dress." And it finally comes out, the real reason why the bet was even placed up on the table. Because really, who wouldn't want to see Rhab in a dress?! As to any of the attention he's getting, he tries hard not to squirm and look.. as relaxed as one can look as a very manly man in a slinky woman's dress. "Although really I shouldn't have gone with the matching underwear." He reaches back to tug at his rear, clears his throat and flashes a grin at Kale and then Ila as he catches the howl of laughter he can only assume is at his expense. "Heeey Ila… how're you this fine evening?" Oh and wait, there's a Zi and his reaction makes the bluerider get a sly smirk before he's blowing a kiss at his Weyrleader. "I know I do. Rhab here would have been much sexier, right?"

Kale raises a icing topped sweet cake in toast to Ir'e the brief moment their eyes meet. Here here to the man in a dress! Ha, and Kale thought he had any reason to be self conscious about his fiery getup. He takes a bite of the dessert and offers the plate to Idrissa. "You've got to try this," he begins to say, but pauses as her attention is on someone else. Uh oh. Has Zi'on been caught red handed?!

Rhab would have looked hot in a dress? It's rare for the violinist to show any hint of emotion, but he does now, and it comes in the form of overwhelming annoyance. Which, for Rhab, is the hint of a scowl. "You're an idiot." He informs Ir'e, and then pushes the burly blurider's arm from his shoulder. He might not be as tall or as bulky as Ir'e or Zi'on, but he /certainly/ doesn't look soft in the least. No, he'd probably look just as awkwardly male in that dress as Ir'e does—minus all the bicep. And then, Ir'e is asking for the opinions of others, and Rhabel is informing his 'mate that, "I am going to kill you when we get back to the weyr. I just haven't figured out how yet." He will not be subject to this humiliation. /Ir'e/ is the one in the dress, nobody needs to pretend /he/ is. He will just make for the harpers, thank you, and stay away from the abomination that brought him here.

Zi'on is caught! He pulls his hand back around to pick up Idrissa's and give it a shake. "Hi! Welcome to Western. Cute costume. Uh, cute lizard. Is he always so angry about things?" Zi'on blanches as Ir'e blows him a kiss. "Bleh. I don't think I'm much into men in dresses. No offense, Rhab. Or make up." One might even argue that Zi'on wasn't into dresses or make up period, since his weyrmate wasn't ever seen in either. He grins to Kale. "Anyways, I'll let you two get back to it." He steps back and then heads towards the food tables, picking up what looks to be some sort of puff pastry and shoving the whole thing into his mouth.

"I am a giving soul, yes," is Iolain's calm response. He'll pour himself a drink and then, after looking down the short line of the other men nearby - Ila'den, V'ric, Zi'on - he steps in neatly to join and takes in the man in a dress as well, taking a sip from his cup. He looks to them and back to Ir'e and Rhab before finally asking V'ric, seeing as he was the last person Io spoke to, "I'm guessing this is abnormal here." Another sip.

Idrissa is a bit surprised as her hand is taken hold of an shaken. She catches the fella knot though. "Thank you sir. Yes well, actually he is sorta always like this." Ripley lets out a faint snort not seeming to agree with the idea. He is not angry, just protecting his person from crazy arrow thieving people. "Thanks for having the party. It looks like a lot of fun." She glances towards everyone in the different costumes, along with being very amusing. There is a pause though while she glances to Zi'on. "Ah, did you want a arrow?" She actually pulls one from the quiver and offers it to the weyrleader, pointy end in her hand an so forth. A smile seen. "You can have it." Ripley is a little tattler, or well he uses images to do so at least.

Ila'den can't get through the night without at least taking one jab at his best friend's expense. "I found you a weyrmate," he whispers, to the brownrider, and gives him a slight push towards I're. "I think he's looking at you." And then he's blink-blinking, and tilting slightly back to look at Iolain. There's a moments pause, and then a belated smile for a belated response. "Vel knows she loves him," and he even answers the question for Vel. "And it certainly isn't normal, which is unfortunate." Which just loops the bronzerider right back into laughter, because the thought of Ir'e in a dress is /amazing/.

And here's a sailor! A fugitive sailor, actually. He's not really in a costume, but his tattered sea-worn clothes kind of look like one. Also the boots and the folding telescope at his belt look like sailing items sort of. It's actually Straws. Of course he looks so much different than the blonde-haired man that was imprisoned at Western a turn or two ago that no one clearly recognizes him. Since he's been mingling through the crowd for a while now. And those that may recognize him think it's a costume. He's munching on something crunchy when Idrissa offers the weyrleader an arrow. "I'll take an arrow."

"Yes, yes he is always angry," Kale supplies, reiterating Idrissa's reply to the crazy-haired Zi'on. He grins at the man as he starts to move off. But oh, there's an offer being made! He glances to the given arrow, then makes a lavish gesture with his free hand. "Xanadu's finest. Crafted of the finest wood and," he peeers closely at the tip, "a superbly made head of iron. From us … well, rather from her, to you." He applauds, tapping his hand against his am since his other is busy holding a plate of treats. His roomy sleeve flops from side to side at the motion, and the playfully theatrical teen grins. "I like the hair, by the way," he says with a nod to his wig. And, lo? Another arrow is being asked for? Kale's eyes slide to the tattered blonde, then gives a sidelong glance to Idrissa, still holding that same grin. "You should've set up a tent here. Could've made a few marks!"

V'ric does not look amused. He detaches himself from Ila'den's side though, moving out of range of all the pushing and nudging and general /direction/ given toward the dress-wearing I're. Hell no. "Her loving me has nothing to do with that, Ila'den." It's a softly-made comment, at any rate. He downs some more of his punch though, shaking his head just a little before leveling his gaze onto Iolain. "Abnormal…yes. Surprising? Not at all."

Zi'on waves off the arrow. "Ah. I uh… no thanks!" He motions to Straws, indicating she should let him have the arrow. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourselves. Make sure you get something to eat and drink." Zi'on chuckles. "It's a wig." He points to Ila'den. "It's my weyrsecond's hair. I haven't been to Xanadu in a while. I suppose they're trying to get the new weyrleader settled in." Zi'on uses his sleeve to wipe a bit of cream away from his mouth. The weyrleader overhears something that catches his interest. "Who loves V'ric? I didn't even know V'ric was dating anyone."

Iolain arches a brow curiously at Ila'den, looking from him to V'ric and back aagain before he frowns with vague confusion, "I hadn't really considered that. I was just talking about the throwing." Another idle shrug and he looks over towards all the arrow-providing with curiosity. He does find himself distracted by all the news regarding the normality - or lack thereof - with a man in a dress. Quirking his lips in an easy smile he takes another drink from his cup and says, "I supposed I've spent too much time around people willing to risk being thrown in a dress, then. Maybe it's just a sailor-sea-person-trading-thing." There's this long moment before he even thinks to tack on, "I am Iolain." Just in case. He answers Zi'on's question after the fact, of course, giving him an amused look, "The little girl who threw the cup at him. I don't believe they're romantically involved."

Which way was it again? Ah, there's the bonfire. That must be the right place! Soriana quickens her steps in that direction, looking around at the beach as she gets closer. Yeah, this definitely looks like the right place, and she grins as she heads for the snacks. Where else is there to begin a party? Gotta check out the spread!

Idrissa smirks as she hears Kale and eyes him a moment before she looks back to first Zi'on and then Straws. She tilts her head and offers him a smile and nods. "Sure, you can have one." She glances to Zi'on to make sure he really doesn't want the arrow, then why was he trying to sneak one? The question is most likely seen across her face. She coughs a moment and nods. "Alrighty, well if you change your mind let me know sir." The arrow is then turned towards Straws, still offered tail ended which has three beautiful red feathers with white strips. "What Kale said is true, he made the arrow heads. They are great arrows."

"At least some people appreciate my effort." The 'toast' via cake from Kale makes Ir'e smile. 'cause hey, if he can't laugh about this, what's a man to do? The bluerider makes a sniff, as if his feelings have been heart or something before a cheeky smile is offered to Rhabel. "You just keep thinking on that, and just remember if you kill me, you'll get stuck with the kids." He waggles those bushy eyebrows before giving a snort at Zi. "Who isn't a fan of men in dresses. I know I am. You know, mix it up a little. Throw people for a loop!" And speaking of a loop, he slips free of Rhab and sidles on over to V'ric, fluttering those painted lashes at the brownrider. "Hey there, big boy." He walks throwing his hips out side to side, as if they'd magically make him look sexy or something.

The comment about being stuck with kids is the only reason why Rhabel even looks back to witness his weyrmate sashaying himself towards V'ric. Poor, innocent soul. Run while you can! The bookworm pauses mid-stride towards the harpers, and turns a rather somber look onto the brownrider. That's right. He's completely serious when he says, "Do you want him? You can have him." There's a brief pause, and then, "He sleeps with half the weyr anyway." Now those eyes are on Ir'e, and, "He's handsome, at least." AND CAN'T MAKE MORE BABIES. But no, the violinist isn't waiting around for answers. He's making for the food table instead. Some of those treats look /delish/.

Kale doesn't have much to say in regards to Xanadu's new weyrleader and only nods in what likely is confirmation of 'yeah, he's getting settled in'. "Weyrsecond," he says wistfully. "I was this close." He holds his thumb and index finger mere centimeters apart as a visual, though the look on his face, mirthful as it is, must be an indication that he's joking. He nods his head to Zi'on in thanks before looking to Idrissa and the tattered man as she speaks to him. Those arrow tips? Oh yes. He did craft those. Or rather, helped, but he'll take the credit! He pops another cake piece in his mouth, content to watch and take notes on who's who and what's being said to whom and .. Western is such an interesting place!

Ila'den has had too much laughter for one night, and when he glances over to check on the status of his weyrmate and their little one, he notes that Risa is dozing off. Still, it doesn't stop him from flashing Iolain another smile. "I knew what you were talking about. You try telling that face no." But then he's moving away from besties, and thieving weyrleaders, and fish-men with butts to gather his 'mate. "We should get her in bed, baby." And he's running a hand through her hair while he waits for her to stand.

Soriana picks herself up some nibblies, just in time to see Ir'e sashaying by. She pauses, for a good long moment, then laughs and shakes her head. Enough of the food (though she does pop a fried something in her mouth, and nod hello to Rhabel with her mouth full), it's time to see what they've got here as far as drinks. It is so very evidently that time… but, she gets distracted along the way by the very vividly colored Kale, stepping up to join him. "Hot as always," she says with a teasing smirk, then glances past him to, oh, hey, isn't that a weyrleader or something? She smiles to Zi'on. "Hullo. Nice party." So what if she only just got here!

Straws smiles and nods to Idrissa. "They look well made. Kudos." He takes the arrow to look it over, and then nods to Kale. "Of course it'll be hard to tell if they're good unless they get used. They say Xanadu has one of the best forges around. Lots of good smiths go there to work." Straws scratches at his beard a bit and tilts his head at Kale. "You look a little on the young side to be weyrsecond, no? I don't think I would have wanted that sort of responsibility when I was your age. Unless you're older than you look."

Iolain, standing near V'ric and therefore in the corona of nonsense that has become the snack table, looks from Ir'e's head to toes before he politely greets him with, "Madame." He uses the hand holding his cup to point towards something on the table for Rhabel's sake, letting him know, "Those are good." He finishes off his drink and leaves the cup hooked around his finger while he finds another little bit to eat, nibbling on it while watching the others' interact curiously.

Zi'on wanted an arrow because he was weird, that's why. He just wanted to sneak one. And then maybe use it to skewer a bunch of treats for himself and carry them around without a plate. "I will, thank you." He says to Idrissa. Ir'e is given a look. "I am not a fan of a man in a dress. I hope you've at least got underpants on. The thought of a tumble or a strong wind exposing your berries makes me want to drop a barf." As so is Ir'e's hip-wiggling and flirting with V'ric. Instead Zi'on goes to wash down his treats down with some punch. He smiles to Soriana as she greets him. "Ah, hello there. Thanks. Though I'm not sure I deserve all the credit. Western's weather and all. It's usually hot here. I like your kitty costume. It's cute."

There's a certain amount of tenseness that works into V'ric's shoulders as he's sidled up to by…the /dress/. Or the dress-wearer, anyway. But then Rhabel is talking, /blissfully/ drawing his attention away from painted lashes and oddly exposed manflesh. "I prefer someone who can keep it in their pants. ….Skirts." He shifts back a step though, an attempt at removing himself from the uncomfortable closeness I're has brought upon him.

Iris and Risali were just finishing up at the table- Risa finally getting a little irritable with the lateness. Iris hasn't been paying a whole lot of attention to the party save to laugh at whatever Risa points out, whether that's Ir'e dress or to giggle at Iolain some more. Iris leans into Ila'den's touch before standing, hoisting her little pirate queen into her arms. "Let's do that, love. Our sitter will want to be getting down here before too long, anyway. Did you have fun?" Risali, after settling in her mom's arms for all of a moment, starts reaching out for her father. "Butts! Don't wanna sleep!" Once she's in her father's arms, Iris is free to lead them back towards the dragons so they can get a ride back up to the weyr. There are waves goodbye as they filter through the crowd, and laughs at the comments she catches on the way, but it's time to get the kiddo home and check on the others.

Idrissa doesn't have to tell people that Kale only helped with the arrow heads. This gives him more props for the work right? Course right! She looks amused as she hears Straws and Kale talk about the whole weyrsecond bit and she shakes her head not about to get into that it seems. "You're welcome, I've used them before." Not for hunting as she may have the duds for it she really isn't into going out and hunting things save for fishy bits for her firelizards when she gets lucky. With the arrow taken from her hand she is able to go about getting herself some food stuffs, along with a cup of punch. A glance is offered back to Zi'on and she blinks at the bit on a strong wind and so both which makes her actually blush before she is munching on some bit of rather good looking food. She catches sight of Soriana, whom gets a smile and wave.

Kale looks over to Straws now, once again eyeing his costume (or at least he believes it to be a costume!) before speaking, a bit proudly. "I've apprenticed at Xanadu for turns, and I haven't a bad thing to say of our forges. Especially since the upkeep of them is part've my duties," he says, grinning. "And as for my age, I could twenty four and a perfect age for weyrsecond. Or I could be sixteen. Either way I doubt I'd like it much." Responsibility and paperwork and decision making? Bah, who'd want that! He grin, eyes flitting to Soriana as she arrives and compliments. "Ha. Funny, but true," commented with a smirk. "And you'll thank Xanthius for this one. I was going to come as smithcraft apprentice. I had all the pieces for it, but apparently that wasn't 'original enough'." Pause and blink. Ears. Whiskers. Adorableness?? "Do you have a tail?" he asks, brow quirked.

"Recognizing a good thing deserves some credit too," says Soriana to Zi'on with a smile, then makes a funny expression with her mouth quirked halfway between smile and frown. "Well. Thank you, but it's meant to be a ferret." Similar, and yet completely different. Hence the funny face. Moving on, though! She grins to Kale. "For once, Xanthius was right," she says, then smirks. Does she have a tail? (Will he get some tail?) "Maybe." She glances back toward the snacks, waving to Rissa, and then her gaze lingers for a moment on some of those there before she turns back. "If I'd known mere dresses were enough to make a costume, I could have had a much simpler time of it." And for some reason, though she says it with a grin, afterward she casts a pre-emptive glare at Kale, like she's just daring him to say something and make her day.

"You know, just 'cause I knocked up Keely and uh.. what's her face, doesn't mean that I get around to half the weyr." The bluerider does look a bit offended at that comment, pinning his weyrmate with a look that threatens retribution at a later date and time. BEWARE! But the sourness in his attitude washes away when Iolain greets him and he flops his muscular arm out, bending his wrist as he offers up his fury fingered hand at the poor guy. "Evening, sir." Did you really want to gain Ir'e's attention? Too late now! And then there's Zi and his comment and his eyes narrow as they nearly sparkle with mirth. "Oh I've got undies on, they just honestly resemble more of a string than anything else. Not sure how women can wear these things." And then he's gone fishing to yank the string out of his crack with a loud snap. Woo hoo! "And don't listen to him V'ric, he's just still pissed at me that a random greenrider dumped a baby on our ledge." His voice drops down to a near whisper as he leans closer to the brownrider, not giving him the space he wants. "He really loves the lil tyke though, don't let him fool you!"

Without losing his composure, Iolain will keep his nibbling food in one hand and use the other to take Ir'e's, kissing his knuckles neatly with that same deadpan expression on his face. It's manners, really. He doesn't seem to recognize the danger in drawing Ir'e's attention, but at least he has snacks. He turns away in time to miss the snapping of the string so he can seek out more of something to drink, deciding on something as simple and warming as klah, especially seeing as it goes with everything. He returns in time to note, over the rim of his steaming mug, "A ledge doesn't strike me as the safest place to set a baby, to be honest." He looks between Ir'e and V'ric curiously, taking in the latter's tension and the former's closeness with academic interest.

Straws twirls the arrow between his fingers. "Have you? Do you hunt then?" He asks Idrissa about the arrows. What else was there to use them for? Other than target practice. Straws nods to Kale. "I've never been to see the forges, but I know the steel that comes from them is good." He chuckles. "Twenty-four turn olds tend to have broader shoulders and more hair. But you could be. Eventually you might want that sort of power, but you're better off waiting until you're tired of fun." The sailor moves back towards the drink table then to pick up a glass, nodding to Zi'on.

Soriana, for all her efforts, doesn't earn herself a smile or even a greeting in turn, but the blank staring of a rather emotionless teenager. "Your mouth is full," Rhabel says softly, and then Iolain is drawing his attention to the delicious noms. He studies the fish-man's suggestion, and then takes one between his fingers. "Thank you," he says, and suddenly there is a /V'ric/ again. "He isn't usually in a skirt," the bookworm explains, sounding… bored. "But he's too stupid to win a bet, and it was either him or me." So it was him. When Iris and Ila'den leave, Rhabel makes his way into the empty chair and then turns his attention back onto Iolain. "Any other suggestions?" Which is so rudely interrupted by… Ir'e. Pause. PAUSE. "Did you just…?" Nevermind. "Are you sure you don't want him?" he inquires of the strange brownrider, and then shifts his attention back onto Iolain. "Or even you, since men in dresses seem to be right up your alley." Why else would he be giving knuckle kisses?

Idrissa peers curiously to Straws, a soft ah escapes her and she ponders that answer. "I've hunted a bit." She doesn't go into great detail, though she shouldn't need to. A glance is sent back to Kale and Soriana. "I suppose Xanthius was right to some degree." She lifts a hand to ruffle Kale's different colored hair a few times while grinning. "As for tails, they still have tails." This said with an amused tone and nods before a soft ah escapes her. "I'd still dress like this as I'm not crazy about dresses." Seems all the guys here like them though.

Zi'on gives Idrissa a grin. "Sorry. Don't mind me, or my mouth." He looks to Soriana then. "Ooh, sorry. Ferret. My mistake. It's cute though, regardless." Zi'on looks back to Ir'e. "Eh. Dresses usually aren't. Unless you're a man, then they are. The costume is less convincing though if you don't bother about any of your body hair." The weyrleader is glad to be out of the conversation about knocking people up. As bad as Ir'e is he was worse. He wrinkles his nose as Ir'e removes his undies from between his buttocks. "I don't much like anything up my butt." He takes a long sip of punch. This guy wasn't fond of dresses! At least not on men.

Iolain points out some nice pastries with sweet cheese filling when asked again, taking a longer drink of his klah as the drink seems to improve his energy. He licks his lips and arches a brow at the statement that ultimately comes up, "It's not specific to men in dresses. Just never hurts to be polite. If you're /trying/ to get rid of him, though, you could always just find a nice family willing to take him in." He still hasn't lost something of his deadpan expression, albeit without ever really playing off the 'stoic' attitude. He casts a look back to Ir'e and V'ric and points out - by literally pointing at them, "Actually, I think your 'mate's getting a little too close for, ah, V'ric's comfort. Must not be as fetching as you'd hoped."

"Because if you don't have a tail, then you're an awful ca-..ferret." Oh, sure Kale totally knew she was a ferret. The whole time. Yup. He snaps his fingers in sudden realizaion. "Inkfoot!" Noooow he really sees it. Heheh. "That's a good costume. Did he see it?" He smirks at the notion, though ducks at the hair ruffling from Idrissa. "Hey. Do you know how long it took for my hair to look this way?" he says, pointing a finger at her. Don't touch the hair! A grin wins out though, and he eyes Soriana and considers her dress comment. Uh. Er. Yes, he sees that glare. And … yes, he still talks. "As if you even own a dress, Soriana. Simpler? You would've gone out've your mind to find one!" To Straws he nods knowingly. Here's a guy that knows what he's talking about! But wait, more hair? He gives his spikey head a tentative touch.

V'ric's eyes narrow a fraction, a hint of irritation rising through his own calm demeanor. "I're. Knock it off." Again he moves away, this time in order to turn to the table of food. There's a few things there at least that he can take, and he does, quietly eyeing Rhabel sideways. "..I am../very/ sure that I want nothing to do with any of…that." Of dresses and thongs and weird blueriders. V'ric will /always/ decline. His head is given a mild shake though, tilting a look onto Iolain with a touch of curiosity for him, before he offers a small nod of thanks to the man for speaking up.

Ir'e almost seems giddy when Iolain kisses his knuckles. Not because you know, he's into guys. Hey, hey, his weyrmate was a /fluke/. But because he finds it delightfully amusing that someone was 'polite' enough to do such a thing. "It wasn't a safe place for a baby, which is why I had to take it in. I'm sure she thought it was someone else's ledge." But the baby boy most definitely looks like him, so there's that one small fact that he'll blatantly ignore. "Quit trying to pawn me off on other people, Rhab. You're gunna make them think you don't like me!" A sigh falls away from those ruby red painted lips of his before he's eyeing Zi'on and then shrugging his shoulders. "I can't say I much care for it either but the undies matched the dress and the tailor seemed to insist they were a matching set. Besides, I can't do things half-assed." He takes a step back when V'ric is giving him that look and those words are floating away from his lips. "Fine. Spoiled sport. Hrmph."

The smile wins out on Soriana's face. "Thank you. I know ferrets aren't as common as the felines, anyhow." So Zi'on's got an excuse! Kale, on the other hand… She smirks. "Yes, like Inkfoot. He tried to lick the whiskers." That did not work so well. It's part of why she got here late! "Course they have tails." And so does she, except it's actually a fuzzy brown sock stitched on. Soriana made this costume mostly out of stuff she already had around, it seems. Speaking of stuff she has around, well, first she chuckles slightly to Zi'on. "If it was too convincing, I suppose it'd be back to not being a costume again," she says, then smirks to Kale. "Just because you've never seen one doesn't mean they don't exist," she informs him. "And I'll wear one when I'm good and ready." Maybe. Someday. "Maybe when you turn Weyrsecond." When. If. Someday probably never and definitely ages in the future.

Idrissa a soft heh escapes her and she nods to Zi'on, a faint smile seen. "Sok." She offers after chewing on a bit of some foody item that she had. Her gaze drifts back and forth over the different riders while she follows some of the rather different conversation. She looks to Kale and just grins. "Your hair looks fine. If anything I made it a little spikier. Until you had to swoosh it down that is." At the bit on the dress she glances to Soriana. "I bet she has a dress. I mean, why wouldn't she?" At the bit on Weyrsecond's continue on and she eyes Kale and Soriana and she just looks amused.

"You don't have to be polite to him," Rhabel says, no change in tone. "Even if you threw him off of a cliff, he'd think you were being polite." It's true. Rhab is clearly not the brightest ray of sunshine gracing Western's beach, yet he's the one that Ir'e fell for regardless. "You could try it and see. Nothing says, 'Let's be friends', like a pastry to the face." Still, the mention of V'ric's discomfort does draw the bookworm's attention away from delicious cream cheese filled goodies to the brownrider, and then to his own 'mate. "He looks big enough to handle himself." Ir'e is a tad shorter, after all! It's all the more attention they get, except for Ir'e who Rhab informs, "I /don't/ like you." He's taken to taste-testing another one of those finger foods.

Hey look! There's V'ric. Zi'on looks between the brownrider and the bluerider in a dress. "It sort of freaks me out that you're enjoying this so much, Ir'e. Also that you're wearing so little underwear. Also that people are kissing your hand like a lady. Though I do feel some sympathy about your weyrmate. My weyrmate doesn't like me very much either. I think she would pawn me off, too. Maybe you ought to try my bluerider, Rhabel." Especially if he were wearing a dress. Zi'on turns back to Soriana then. Zi'on is something she has around? Or he's just standing close to her? "I suppose. It'd also be too strange."

Iolain's brow furrows slightly and he asks Rhabel, with genuine confusion, "Which one?" V'ric has spoken up for himself just fine, of course, so his comment was probably unnecessary. He takes another drink from his mug and just gives V'ric a slight nod in return, cocking his head with a fairly easygoing smile. He focuses on Zi'on, one of the few people he's spoken to so far, when the man joins in the conversation. He shifts his cup around in his fingers, turning it absentmindedly, before he points out helpfully, "I'm not wearing any underwear. I'm actually glad you arrived to take the attention off my ass." This last is apparently for Ir'e, as his gaze changes to the large dress-wearing fellow. If Rhabel's lack of brilliant sunlight is bothering him during their chat, it doesn't really seem to show much in his outward behavior.

"Because she's Soriana," reples Kale to Idrissa, matter of factly, "and she doesn't wear dresses. Like, ever," he enunciates to Soriana, obviously not believing her 'I'll wear one when he's Weyrsecond' promise. Ha! "I could wait a thousand turns and still not see you in one. I bet you really don't have one. And this would've been a perfect opportunity to prove me wrong." Opportunity wasted! He grins smugly, arms crossing across his chest as he glances to the others present. What was that about weyrmates not liking each other? And .. not wearing underwear? That warrants a drink, most definitely. All those sweets did make him thirsty afterall. And so he moves to slither on towards that drink table. Is there ale? Of course there's ale. There's always ale!

Maybe if V'ric ignores them, they'll all just disappear. At least he has a moment to enjoy his snack and a bit more punch. At least before Iolain's comments draw his gaze /back/ to the net-clad man. Thankfully, he manages to refrain from dropping his face right into his palm. "And yet you're pulling attention right back to it.."

"I'm just trying to stay in character, Zi. It's not that I'm enjoying it, I just know how to have a good laugh. Come on man. Live a little! Have some fun! Do something random and wild!" Ir'e's then looking at his weyrmate and catching those words. "He doesn't much care for girls, or really anyone at all." Words are tossed at Zi before the bluerider looks very much not amused anymore as he pins Rhab with a glare. "Fine, if you hate me so much." Pause. "Fine. Just FINE." Pout time. He whirls around before tossing his head back so he can give an apologetic look at Iolain, before he's going to build himself a plate of sweets to drown his emo away.

Soriana always keeps weyrleaders around! They've got a thousand and one uses. This time, though, it's pretty well just that Zi'on was near her. That, and they they were talking about dresses, which she totally does actually have around, yep. "I suppose it would," she agrees with Zi'on, and then looks back to watch the men in skirts. Just… watching. Yes. Though, she does glance back to Kale. "Nuh-uh. Wouldn't have been a costume. Same reason you couldn't just go as a smither. Now, if you wore a dress…" Ah, but there he goes off to get a drink. Smart boy.
Izkas has disconnected.

Idrissa waves a hand as she hears Kale talk about the whole Soriana and dress bit. "I bet she does own one." If not she has a feeling her friend will be getting one just to say she does perhaps? More bits and pieces of the conversation is picked up from the others. What is this about someone not wearing underwear? A faint glance is sent towards riders in question before she looks to Soriana, wanting to ask her friend if all riders talk like this. The few she knows don't talk about not having underwear one or well maybe they do and she doesn't pay attention? She grins at the bit on Kale in a dress. "Oh now that is an idea. I think he still owe me a favor. Perhaps I should burrow a dress for him to wander around in." Would she do such a thing? Possible, Soriana /did/ buy him nail polish after all.

Spoken like a true woman! Rhabel's attention goes to his pouting 'mate, and there's a moment of real hesitation before the teenager is getting up and onto his feet. "I was talking about V'ric," he informs Iolain, and then moves to stand beside the brownrider. "You weren't doing it right, Ir'e. If you want to win him over, you do it like this." And then he's turning to face the man who makes him feel as petite as they come. He reaches up, pulls him down, and those lips find purchase on V'ric's. There's certainly nothing sensual, or lingering, or sexy about the kiss, but it does happen, and Rhab's looking just as emotionless when he pulls away as he was before he even planted the kiss in the first place. Fear? Rhab walks on the wild side. He laughs in the face of fear. His eyes do go to Zi'on afterwards, but there's an owlishly slow blink for the weyrleader. "I'm not interested in hand-me-downs." Yep. Not the most friendly, this one.

"I can be proud of it even if I'd rather it wasn't the center of attention," Iolain says, turning towards V'ric with a faint smile, most of his amusement in his eyes rather than on hiss face. He is distracted by Ir'e whirling, lifting a hand in response to the apologetic look and seeming altogether rather uncertain of how to respond. He shrugs and just takes another drink of his klah, calling out, "Try the little yellow cookies." Yep, just a walking menu right here. He looks to Rhabel to gauge how the man intends to handle his weyrmate's sulk, then back to V'ric, noting to him in an easy drawl, "You never did properly answer my introduction. Not that you didn't have other concerns at the time." Concerns like Ir'e, that is. Poor guy. He watches as Rhabel reaches up to more or less grab V'ric and pull him down into a kiss like that, frowning mildly before he says, "…I don't think it's particularly seductive to force a kiss on someone who has such a broad personal space." Just as before, it's stated in a thoughtful, factual tone more than anything else, and puncuated by a sip from his dwindling mug of klah.
[Western Weyr] Ila'den: I wouldn't miss it for the world.

"I would look outstanding in a dress," calls Kale from not too far off, as food and drink likely aren't very far from one another. And now he has a pitcher of ale, and he's looking as smug as ever. "Just as good as that fellow over there," he gestures to Ir'e with the mug, "and we two would be the best lookin' fellows here." So there! In fact, Ir'e likely has more courage than Kale does, as he can't imagine himself getting in a situation that'd end up with him wearing women's wear and makeup out in public! But in truth, the man in the dress isn't loking as jovial as he was before, which gives Kale slight pause in his joking. And then there's that guy whose kissing that other guy. But didn't he come with that dress guy? Yup, this going to require some thought processing, and thus, Kale drinks his ale to mull it all over. Yup.

Straws moves over near Zi'on and the food table to do some picking. He picks up one of the knives meant to be used to spread soft cheese onto crackers then puts it down again, opting instead for something that looked like little fried cheese balls. He seems content to munch and listen for a while, looking out at the water. Something seems to catch his attention then and he grabs hold of the arrow in the center, his brow furrowing into a serious gaze. Suddenly he yells. "FOR DANE!" And the he takes the arrow and jabs it into the weyrleader's side of his back. Then he shoves his way through the crowd and straight out towards the water, disappearing rather quickly in the waves and leaving Zi'on to… well, bleed.

Two stone-faced kissers. For V'ric doesn't seem to have anything other than a /blank/ expression for Rhabel's lip-invasion. He stands still though, and at the very least he doesn't lash out at the shorter man for it. But then again, there's a bunch of yelling, and shoving, and..stabbing? The brownrider pulls away immediately to give chase, with a whoosh of air overhead as Loxiath screams across the bowl and out over the water himself, eyes whirled red in the dark.

Zi'on blinks as Rhabel moves in on V'ric. He actually looks a bit scared for a moment, like he's worried Rhabel might go after him next. He peers at him then, after that comment about Kiena. "She's not a hand-me-down." Something tells him Kiena wouldn't like Rhabel too much anyways. Of course he doesn't have much time to further his claim, as he's being stabbed in the kidney by an angry pirate. His drink is dropped on the ground and he sinks to his knees. He barely manages to squeak out a tiny "…help.." Which isn't heard anyways over the trumpeting and screams of his dragon. Who is making his way onto the beach come hell or high water, and pushing through the crowd to his rider, growling at anyone in the way.

"Ah, you-" starts Soriana in playful retort, and then stops at the shout from Straws. What the- "Shards!" she curses, and starts for the weyrleader. Never mind the fleeing man, there's blood there. Zi'on may not be a dragon, but blood is still blood, and two turns of dragonhealer training have instilled an instinct to go for the wounded one. She wants a cloth, something vaguely clean… aha. She rips off her mask, and never mind the angry dragon coming through, she drops down to her knees next to him and carefully applies pressure, not trying to remove the arrow but just trying to stop the blood from gushing out around it. Blood is supposed to stay on the inside.

Idrissa tibbits out as she hears Kale talk about looking outstanding in a dress. "I suppose so, in some wild dream of yours. But you'd have to wear heels too, goes along with the whole dress theme. Oh, an the nail polish. I bet you still have some of that left don't you?" This questioned while she eyes Kale and just grins. Look everything is so much fun right now, people are laughing, kissing, and picking thongs out of there rumps when they slip too far down. Everything is great until someone that was given a gift has to go crazy. Rissa glances over towards the movement and she blinks as she watches Straws stand Zi'on with the arrow she gave him.. Wait.. what? The bellows of the dragons are heard but her gaze is only on Zi'on, for a few moments she is still, quiet and then she is grabbed napkins and the like from the table and is sliding over the few feet to Zi'on without a word as she tries to help Soriana stop the bleeding on the fallen man. She'll just think Zi'on is a runner and all is good, she can freak out later!

Seeing as he isn't a dragonrider or a healer, when the commotion kicks in and Straws makes his move, the sea-trader Iolain turns to pursue the man towards the water, more or less falling in line with V'ric if only because they have the same idea. Unless some sort of magic is involved, it's unlikely the man could get terribly far in such a short period of time, but they're about to find out.

Fordane. That's a weird thing for someone to shout. What does that even mean? These thoughts barely form in Kale's mind before chaos shows itself. Screaming people. Roaring dragons. This went from happy times to what the shards in record time! For a few beats, Kale stands with widened eyes, too much demanding his attention at once. A rather laaarge dragon is barreling through, and people are running. Away. After someone. To the weyrleader. His drink is forgotten now as he runs too, eyes set on Iolain. And not on his butt, either.

Straws hasn't grown wings, no. But he's a good swimmer, and he doesn't need to swim that far. Because there's a long boat waiting for him off shore with several other pirates just waiting for him to get in before they start to row off. And with all the commotion it will he hard for them to get to Straws before he's in the boat, and it's too dark for anyone to see out on the ocean without some sort of light source. The search riders on duty will obviously come straight away, but it's clear the whole thing was planned. Since Straws was out of jail to begin with. Dane happens to be one of the pirates that Ila'den shot while rescuing Iris some time ago. And Straws had meant to give Ila'den a stab, but Zi'on matched the description just as well AND was the weyrleader.

Loxiath bellows above the water again, wings lashing air as he sweeps above the surface in search of the run away criminal. There's a frustrated noise after a time, and V'ric himself skids to a stop in the shallows with a muttered curse. After all, their quarry seems to have vanished into thin air. Fingers tear the annoyance that is the mask off his face, leaving it in the wet sand as he turns back to head up the beach again. Loxiath remains in the air, circling the water with a few frustrated and angered rumbles, like thunder in the night. At a jog V'ric makes his way back to the knot of people around Zi'on. ..Best to at least check for /life/ there.

Iolain continues his own pointless run to the edge of the water, only drawing to a real stop after he gets to about knee height in the water. He stands there, listening to the distant sound of a boat on the water, buried beneath the screams of people and dragons, before he more or less just turns around and makes his way back up the beach. He doesn't try to force his way into the knot, instead keeping an appropriate distance to avoid being trampled by the man's dragon.

Zi'on is… bleeding! Also he's got an arrow sticking out of him. Also he's starting to pass out. Soriana's mask will only do so much. Someone ought to get him to the infirmary really. He's not dead and thankfully the arrow didn't seem to go in very far. Maybe it's the material his shirt is made form. Suldith won't be doing any maulings, so long as people move out of the way. Watch out for the tail. His rider is still living, it would seem. But he is insistent on getting his nose right up in Zi'on's face to make sure. At least V'ric should know how to airlift him out?

Admittedly, dragons and humans are rather different anatomy-wise, but either way, blood should stay inside. Soriana keeps up a steady pressure, even as the blood starts to soak through her mask. She frowns, and then Idrissa arrives with extra napkins. Good! She reaches for them with red-stained fingers, adding to her wrapping as she keeps pressure steady. "Need a senior," she mutters. She's not qualified for extractions! And… oh, Faranth, he's probably going into shock. If this were a dragon, she'd get the rider to stay with him. It's not. Fine. Do it in reverse. She looks up at the bronze, meeting his eyes fearlessly. Of course he's Zi'on's dragon. Who else could he be? "You! Talk to him! Keep talking to your rider. Make him talk back!" she commands firmly, and then raises her voice even further. "Someone get a healer!" Or take him away. That would work too. She's just used to huge and difficult to move patients, not ones in convenient human-sized packages.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry!" Idrissa is murmuring out while she is still there working with Soriana on doing her best to slow the bleeding from Zi'on's wound with the napkins she grabbed from the table. Her form quivering, so much for waiting until later for freaking out, especially seeing how she is eyeing that arrow in the weyrleader knowing very well it is the one she gave the man. The screams from people and dragons are heard but she isn't moving it seems. Even at the sudden presence of bronze she isn't too sure about moving.

WHOOSH! Ila'den reappears on the beach in somewhat normal attire. The mask is gone from his face, the cape has been pulled free from his shoulders, but the pants and the boots are still in tact. He drops down from Teimyrth, racing first to Zi'on and dropping down alongside the women and the fallen leader. He takes in the scene for only seconds before there's a rumbling growl from his own bronze. The news has already been relayed: it's too late. What isn't too late, however, is the sudden fight for Zi'on's life. "Take it neither of you are healers," he says hopelessly, jerking off his own tunic to add to the blooded mess of napkins and other blood-stifling bits of cloth. V'ric, bless the man, is already on his way back, and the weyrsecond gives him a long look that communicates 'infirmary' well. "I don't want to move him without something solid beneath him." But he already has Teimyrth calling to any healers who are capable of helping, and who have the right tools to make this move less messy. "Keep on the pressure," he tells Idrissa, though he's applying pressure himself to help.

Kale isn't sure just what he'd do if he did, with the others, catch up with the stabber. His handy dandy hammer is way back at home, and he has no other weaponry on him. But the instinct to assist and subdue seems stronger than the realities of how ill equipped he is for any fighting, other than that of fists. Down to the beach the chase ensues, into the water. He only gets a few steps in before realizing to pursue is futile. Darkness is not on their side, and that guy obviously had this planned out with people out there to rescue him. That, or he's drowning himself. "Shardit.." He grimaces, spying Iolain departing. He follows after him, grimacing, then picks up the pace a little to catch up. There are a lot of people and one big huge dragon around Zi'on, and thus he hangs back too. "Do you know who that guy was?" asked of Iolain.

"Move." It's a barked order, even as V'ric shoulders his way through the throng. He shrugs out of his tunic as Loxiath peels away from his searching, coming in low for a landing nearby. At least the man's voice gentles just a little once he makes it there, though finding Ila'den already there and helping out. "I can't move him like this. Here," he hands of his own tunic as well, folding it up to set underneath Zi'on's head. "They've already been called, they'll be here in another moment, healers are on the way with supplies and a board to carry him on."
"Dragonhealer. Grade one," Soriana says briskly to Ila'den. At least keeping pressure on a wound is the same. She's got her hands in place, trying to both stop the blood and keep the arrow pinned so it doesn't tear something else. Sometimes the right answer is extraction. Sometimes it isn't. She's not qualified to tell the difference. Where is that healer? She ignores Idrissa's meltdown, for the moment, and nods to V'ric's report. "Good." Keep up that pressure, and wait for those healers. That's her plan.

Iolain isn't departing, just keeping some distance, though he does move to one of the refreshment tables while everyone is scurrying around. He looks curiously over at Kale, expression distracted and a bit annoyed by the question, "Why would I know him?" He flips the table over, scattering food just about everywhere, and jerks his chin towards the other end, "Help me carry this over." Either the table is collapsible or it's about to be, as Iolain is not above kicking the legs off to make it more agreeable. Unless Kale decides not to assist the weirdo in his mission, the trader will haul the table over towards the group of people and more or less tell them to move until he can get near enough to throw out, "He'll probably need to be on his side. Easier to get to the top and bottom of the wound, I'd imagine." He'll leave that bit to Soriana and Ila'den, frankly. Table-wrangling is enough for him to manage for the time being.

Idrissa is only have a /small/ meltdown as she is back to being quiet and keeping her hands pressed against the wound. Tears though are clearly rolling down her cheeks while she bites her lip most likely hard enough to bleed. As for her being a healer? Not likely. "Beastcraft." Is all she can mumble out. She's dealt with hurt runners before, and bleeding is the same with a runner or person it needs to be stopped some how.

Suldith is growling at everyone now as his rider slips off into la-la land. Really everyone ought to just ignore him. There's mumbling from Zi'on. Mostly "Ziri, Ziri". Why's he calling for his sister? Because she's a healer and Ila mentioned healers. Zi'on is covered in everyone's shirts. Woo-woo! Naked men all over the place! Suldith suddenly is airborn again, out to join the ocean search and making horrible noises while he does it. By now the whole weyr is probably awake.

"Dragonhealer and beastcraft, hmm?" Ila'den murmurs, but his tone would suggest that the experience is good enough. "Can you keep the arrow stable while we move him?" he asks Soriana, eyes going to Iolainthe geniusand his ability to make stretchers out of party tables. And then his eyes are on Idrissa again, watching her cry just before a small, reassuring smile tilts his lips upwards. "It's okay, you know. He's still breathing." But amidst all the chaos and Zi'on's clear struggle, it's words of comfort that he doesn't /feel/. It's more habit, really, having lived his entire life comforting people despite situations. "You have to keep breathing too." AND THEN BAM. There are healers, and broken buffet tables are being utilized despite everything because there's nothing like going to the infirmary in /style/. THE END.

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