A'dal

Tall and broad, nothing about A'dal's solid form gives a hint to his childhood runtiness other than a tendency to hunch those wide shoulders as if trying to avoid attention. And in truth there's nothing particularly remarkable about him: close-cut mousy hair crowns a high forehead, its rider crop no longer dripping bangs into his murky green-brown eyes. His skin is tanned only lightly despite all his Turns in the Xanadian sunshine, a few odd freckles daring to make their presence known across his high-bridged nose. Pleasant-looking rather than handsome or striking, he seems content with his lot in life: a strong young body that's not without a certain grace, and a plain face that can light up with good humour.

Twisted into a careful knot are the purple, black and silver of Xanadu Weyr, flashed through with a strand of sunlit bronze for his lifemate.

Heavy-duty cotton trews are teamed with well-polished wherhide boots, both in shades of dusty brown a hue or two lighter than A'dal's tanned skin - although that's mostly hidden today by a pale leaf-green shirt, its sleeves rolled up in a workmanlike way.

A'dal looks to be in his mid twenties.

The Great Courtyard (Weyrside)

The gigantic courtyard resembles more a marble paved field for it's immense coverage of the entire area from the Weyr doors to the entrance of the Hold far down to the east. Swept smooth by wind and weather, the dark grey stones are interlocked with ancient masterful skill dating back to the first settlements. To the southeast of the weyr lies the entrance to the stables. To the northeast, the courtyard leads off to an enclosed orchard, the breeze Lake Caspian carrying the aromas of the rich growing plants by the Weyr entranceway as it billows through the canyon like region. Towards the southeast is the lake itself with a wide expanse of stone steps leading straight down into the waters themselves. The bottom most are entirely submerged at high tide, washing up interesting things onto them every so often. As the days continue to get warmer with the approach of the southern summer, the smell of the heavily scented flowers and early fruits combine to leave the air almost cloyingly thick with sweetness. You see Dancing Pavillion, Tabby, Saarick, Mischief, Morianth, Audath, Cresnath, Narciss, Zivath, Miracle Maxie, Gwyneth, Vanuth, and Ice Shadow here. Kym and Maura are here.

Maura waves to A'dal. "Hello there." She smiles in welcome.

A'dal strolls on through the courtyard, clutching a basket full of clothing and sheets. "Lo," he nods to Maura and Kym.

Kym

Curls spiral in wispy strands of sun-kissed blonde, naturally pale ringlets mildly floating to near-shoulder length in an out-grown rider's crop. Wisps escape semi-orderly tresses, framing the woman's heart-shaped face, dancing 'gainst light-skinned cheeks; twin cerulean orbs shine above, often restless, sharply intent, insatiably curious. Peeling red tinges pale-toned skin, now, remnants of an incessant sunburn garnered from Southern. Palish lips curve haphazardly into a charming smile while an impish nose --slightly upturned -- rests in place above. Trim, to the point of boniness, her slight frame is shapely, none the less; short height and slim stature are nothing if not beguiling as veiled athleticism reluctantly tones wiry muscles to more than they might seem. Xanadu's purple and silver intertwine to form the triple-looped knot of a Weyrsecond, a singular tassle dangling. A darkly verdant ribbon of green threads through the doubled cords, signifying Kym's lifemate, Gwyneth. Leather, leather, leather - wherhide covers every spare inch of Kym's body. Ebon adorns the woman's slight physique, bordered with crimson. Midnight jacket is slightly long, lined with fur, while the pants are anything but baggy; in short, the leathers are sensible. A high collar is lined with fur as well, while buttons shimmy down the front. Belt loops for straps circle her waist, lower pant-legs tucking into calf-high boots - also trimmed with burgundy-dyed fur for warmth. Kym looks to be in her early thirties.

Maura Maura is a young, fit looking girl. She stands around 5'8 tall. Her long, brown wavy hair is regularly held back in a neat, bushy ponytail, although at least one or two thin strands of her hair are always in her face. Her skin is lightly tanned from the southern sun, and her eyes are the color of the never-ending blue sky. Maura's eyes sparkle with even the least bit of light. Her long legs carry her swiftly and with much agility over the area in between point A and point B. Scars and calluses on her small, yet strong hands suggest a hard worker. Her shoulders are square and strong and drape down into two tough arms. Her smile is bright and warm and a dimple appears over her mouth when it is a genuine laugh. Maura wears almost-new leather pants that have just one or two rips in them. The pants are long and baggy at the ends and are always tucked neatly into a pair of wher-hide boots. They are held to her small frame by a light blue belt. Her lightly nit, new, loose top has a v-neck lined in the same light blue as her belt and is tucked all the way around into her pants. Patches of tough leather are stitched onto both shoulders to protect it from the firelizard talons. Her sleeves are also long and baggy, but while at work she has them rolled up to her shoulders. Around her neck she always has a necklace adorned with a claw in the center. Cryn perches on Maura's right shoulder. His chest out and his wings flurled at his sides. Tysias is cradled in Maura's arms. Cyain perches on Maura's left shoulder. The blue's tail swinging, contently, from side to side. Maura looks to be in her late teens.

Kym's in the process of clambering down from Gwyneth's neck, which is hampered by the dragon herself, who's in a rather playful mood. "Stop it," commands the greenrider irritably as Gwyneth does her best to keep Kym in place. Eventually, Kym manages to half-fall off, and glowers at the green before turning 'round at the sound of A'dal's greeting. "Hey."

Maura grins at the riders, and stands from where she had been seated. Her three lizards chirping their greetings in turn. She covers her mouth in an effort /not/ to laugh at the playful dragon.

A'dal seems to be just passing through though, since although he nods again to Kym (it's hard to be /very/ polite with your hands full), he heads in through the main doors.

You pass between the heavy metal doors.

Entry Hall

You pass beneath the tall doorway of the main entrance. The Great Courtyard (Weyrside) You see Dancing Pavillion, Tabby, Saarick, Mischief, Morianth, Audath, Cresnath, Narciss, Zivath, Miracle Maxie, Gwyneth, Vanuth, and Ice Shadow here.

Kym and Maura are here.

A'dal reappears, unencumbered.

Maura hangs her head. "Sorry..." She looks back up and backs up a bit from where she was standing.

"Hmph." Kym isn't so much angry at Maura as at her dragon, who obviously couldn't care less; by now, her head's upon her forelegs and lids are shut as she drifts into a doze. "A'dal," she hails. "What're you up to?"

A'dal looks from Maura to Gwyneth to Kym, expression bemused. "Hmmm? Oh, just delivering my laundry, Kym... You? Busy?"

"Not anymore," Kym replies with another sour look directed back towards the snoozing green. "Now that she's stopped being...herself, I'm not." She rolls her eyes. "You'd almost think that she's proddy, way she's acting." She pauses to look back towards A'dal and inform, "Which she's absolutely not."

Maura relaxes her shoulders and leans against the building. She looks from the dozing dragons to the riders. Then towards the few firelizards that sit around the courtyard.

A'dal casts another, almost nervous look over Gwyneth. "Absolutely not," he echoes Kym, thankfully adding, "good."

"Very good," Kym dryly states in a tone that leads to the speculation that she likes the idea Gwyneth proddy even less than A'dal. "Anyway." Enough of /that/ subject. "Where're you headed, now?"

"Thought I'd head over to the Hold, to the tavern, to get a drink," A'dal answers with a slight shrug, tilting his head and squinting at the sunshine. "Want to come?" Maura gets included politely in the invite... A'dal's a nice boy.

Maura smiles gratefully. "I'd love to, thanks." She nods respectfully and stands erect now. She walks forward to join them.

"Love to," Kym replies with a note of relief. "I wasn't looking forward to doing hidework all day." Not Kym's idea of a good time.

Astride Ice Shadow, Jyfer pulls in the reins, bringing Ice to slow as she approaches the stables. Ice snorts at Maura, and Jyfe waves calling out "Hello there Maura."

A'dal seems to have got himself a couple of ladies to escort to the tavern... though he doesn't seem exactly thrilled at it. With a nod in Jyfer's direction, he heads Hold-wards.

You brave the general clamor of the tavern and step in. Tradewinds Tavern Curiosities from every corner of Pern bedeck the high ceilings of the Tavern, giving truth to its name. Great, arching windows overlook the pleasantries of the inner courtyard, their wide sills holding a wild variety of potted plants, containers and the greenery within adding splashes of color that almost do not fit the accompanying decor. A small, flowering tree marks the exit to the courtyard -- a gift from Southern Boll -- and an ornate Harper Hall harp displays on a stand in a corner. Prominently on display at the bar is one of the original, small Port barrels from Benden Hold; it is a pride and joy for the barkeepers and regular patrons alike. A large, meticulously polished bronze bell hangs behind the bar, oft times used to signal closing to the more inebriated customers. The bell's hanging beam is the preferred spot for Hold firelizards, as many find their distorted reflections fascinating to no end. You see Flopsy, Greed, Carroll, Acero, Agerion, Aarti, Insanity, Venture, Malachite, and Periwinkle here. Typhon, Madailynn, Meshach, Spryte, and Risly are here.

Kym walks in from the Residential Hallway.

Maura walks in from the Residential Hallway.

A'dal strolls into the tavern, tugging a little self-consciously at his shirt and hunching his shoulders as he takes in the group already there. "G'day," he murmurs.

"Is is stuffy in here or is it just me." Finally Madailynn speaks up again, shaking her head before a certain question slide into her department. "Waglin and Keani are well. Keani I believe is turning into quite the troublemaker and I haven't been able to curve it quite yet." Brows furrow a bit at her thoughts of the young holder girl spawn. "Waglin is growing up to be quite the responsible one..." Oh wait, Risly wasn't speaking to her? But she is the Head Nanny and those two are her main charges... oops. The entering trio get a look, eyes lingering longest on A'dal--since she knows him best out of the three. "A'dal!" Like he even remembers her.

Spryte takes the glasses from the drudge as he returns "Here you go, you can find out for yourself and please be honest. The children? Oh my you will be suprised by how much they have grown, why Waglin is almost a young man and Keani? Well, she does have a way to go before she becomes a lady, she reminds me so much of our cousins up north, rather wild and free she is, but she has a good heart so time will tell. " head pivots a little on hearing new footsteps and an inclined head greets the newcomers politely.

Meshach

Pale skin sets the mood for this unattractive teen's appearance. His slim face is speckled with boyish freckles and more than a few pimples. A small salvation might be gained from his strong chin and high cheekbones if the unorganized cedar mop crowning his head didn't counter them so completely. Below his sun-speckled face stretch long and lanky limbs almost devoid of muscle or grace. The only positive effect this lack of body mass may afford is that the bits of hard won muscle clinging to his frame are all the more visible.

When the teen remembers to wear them silver and blue mark Meshach as the head barkeep of Xanadu Hold. Light sisal shows its natural shades as it drapes over the narrow shoulders and torso. The plain fabric has been tailored into a cool and serviceable shirt that stops evenly at the upper thigh. Emerging from under the short sleeved tunic are twill shorts the color of rust, one of the few shades that doesn't war with this boy's carrot top complexion. Iago perches on Meshach's shoulder.

Meshach looks to be in his late teens.

Spryte Hair, so fair it appears silver, cascades in a riot of curls to mid-back. The heavy mass tames all but the most determined of the curling strands, escaping whisps forming tendrils around her heart shaped face. Aqua eyes, uptilted at the corners, are expressive, the vibrant colour shifting with her mood. Framed as they are by strikingly dark lashes, they are easily her best feature. Her tiny face is snub of nose, high of cheekbone and generous of mouth, giving her an overall fey appearance. Bone structure is delicate and stature is best described as petite. Gentle curves give mute testimony though that childhood has been left behind. Fragile and gossamer she may appear, but lithe muscles hint at hidden strength. A double cord of ivory and the darkest cobalt winds it's way around the slender shoulder of the woman. The single loop, long tail and one tassel is wound with gold thread, denoting her position as Assistant Headwoman to Xanadu Hold.

Creamy beige shirt is tucked into walnut leather pants. Fawn embroidery edges the placard along the shirts neckline and tips the end of each sleeve. Deepest walnut shade wraps itself around her waist in a finely woven belt. Fawn boots rise part way up to mid-calf, pantlegs tucked neatly inside. Spryte looks to be in her late twenties.

Madailynn Short tight curls swirl around and consume this fair skinned girl. Bouncing when she moves, and bouncing when she's still. Claret they are, melding with a soft color of topaz to take a bit of the bit from the short locks of color. Eyes, large optics that can't be ignored, even when a stray ringlet decides to show up. Orbs of hazel, bronze, and cinnamon, all blended together in a swirl of shimmering color. Slender face, slender body, everything about her making her look like a child, nothing helping her to look her age. Height only bringing to a scant five feet two inches, not a centimeter more. And by the looks of her she couldn't weigh more then, not much anyway.

A new outfit had to be made once she figured out just what her calling was, and by the look of it, this outfit is definitely new. Miles of cloth seem to whirl about her body, rose, ruby, and a pale cream, all of which collide to make the perfect arrangement of colors. It's a dress -- for only she would never be caught wearing anything less -- one of the finest you can have made. And how the Nanny got it is even more a mystery then why on earth she wears such a thing caring for all the messy brats. The collar of the dress makes her more then modest, curling up he neck and then out in a thin - almost translucent material - sleeves are made of the same stuff it seems, stopping at her wrists for a few more ruffles. Elegant she is, but not overly so. It just looks as if she thinks she's better then everyone else, and she honestly thinks she is.

A ring of gold and silver sits upon her finger, time seems to have claimed said ring, marring it with spots of tarnish and wear and tear here and there. Beautiful, and meaningful, no matter how you look at it.

A very hesitant look draws deeply upon her face... very wary to be back in the place she started out so many turns ago... Almost afraid...

Madailynn looks to be in her early twenties.

Risly

Saucy ringlets bunch and coil as a mass of dark-blonde curls, framing an ovular countance; lightly tanned skin bears a touch of rosy sunburn here and there, just as honey tangles through darker hair, caused by a recent exposure to the Southern sun. Hazeled eyes hint towards amber, settled under long onyx lashes while pencil-thin 'brows arch above, a dusky brown. Crimson-touched lips hint towards a charming smile while twin dimples readily indent roseate cheeks, and a smattering of freckles flirt over impish nose, slightly upturned. Average height for one her age, her slender frame sports developing curves as holder girl buds into a young woman all too quickly.

A distinctive knotting of cobalt and ivory grace one slim shoulder in Xanadu Hold's colors.

The color of rose -- a faint, blushing crimson -- spreads from lace-fringed neckline to lace-draped sleeves. At elbows, a darker band of crimson curves tight, making for a bell-shaped design to end at slender wrists. The bodice isn't necessarily made for tightness; instead, it conforms to her body in a flattering manner, whilst an ivory-corded belt hangs loose and low on her waist. The skirt flares -- crimson upon crimson -- with sisal-and-lace dancing together in it's rose-colored way. Chic perches on Risly's shoulder.

This girl's growing up, what with an added tint to cheeks and blacker-than-thou eyelashes, apt to flutter alluringly. Risly looks to be in her mid twenties.

Typhon

Closely cropped black hair frames an inscrutable, unlined face made up of stony planes and agles. Ice cold blue-grey eyes stare out from deep sockets. A hawk-like nose dominates the grim visage. Typhon is tall, about 6'5, and fairly lean, with a wiry strength apparent in all his movements and a ramrod straight posture. His movements are smooth and sinuous, with a deadly grace to them. They are smooth and spare, with no wasted motion or gesture. He is always on the alert, looking around constantly as if expecting an ambush. His hands never stray too far from the hilt of his sword. He seems relaxed, but with the air of a coiled spring, always ready to spring into action.

A snowy white cloak embroidered with a spear-head worked in silvery-blue thread on the left breast hangs from the shoulders of this Guard. A blindingly white high-necked shirt is tucked into ice-blue breeches. The raven-hued knee-high boots seem all the darker for comparison. A night-black heavy belt is also worn, seeming to divide the man in two parts, with a sword on one wide and a long knife on the other. The sword is encased in a plain, white scabbard with deep blue thread patterning the edge. The gleaming blade of the sword is long and slightly curved, sharp on one edge only. The hilt is long and undecorated, in chilling white. The broad bladed knife is more a short sword than a knife. The hilt of the knife is long and is deep blue. This guard wears both with the ease of long familiarity and looks ready to use them at any time. A pair of black gloves are carefully tucked into the belt as well.

Typhon looks to be in his late twenties.

Kym follows a step after A'dal, pausing once inside to eye the occupants and quirk a vague smile; although she recognizes a few, she hardly knows them well enough to call a greeting. An elbow goes out in the attempt to nudge A'dal as she comments, "Look, you've been spotted." And then: "Where should we sit?"

A'dal has a good memory.... "Madailynn, hello," he greets the nanny perfectly pleasantly, wincing though as Kym's elbow finds his lower ribs. "I don't mind where we sit... what would you like to drink?"

Spryte can't help but laugh as both her and the Nanny answer almost in the same breath and with the same comments "Right you are Madailynn why don't you join us..." words trail off as the woman greets at least one of the newcomers. Seems to be a long lost friend.

"Oh?" Risly politely peers over towards Madailynn, eyebrows twitching upwards as she listens. "Keani -- I can always talk to her about /that./" Take her under her wing? This aunt is a little less than responsible herself, although she certainly prides herself on her 'lady' status. "Waglin was only a baby, when I left," she comments. The new arrivals her considered a moment before the young woman adds her own greeting, languidly calling over, "Hey, there."

Maura follows the others and looks about the room to some formiliar faces... and some not so. "Hello" She calls out, not too loudly. She nods to some and walks slowely to one side. She takes a seat and swivels it to face the others.

Typhon turns and sits back his table. "Not when I want a kick in my redfruit juice." Hearing the other comments, he speaks to the other too. "Keani is definately turning into a bit of trouble." Shuddering, he recalls that night when the proddy rider was after him...

Meshach starts to get a little nervous as no one answers. His grey eyes look around and catch sight of the newcomers. "Do you like mulberry juice?" He addresses the question to a hunched man, but his voice is loud enough to carry well in the small tavern. Mesh isn't in the best of conditions right now; his wet hair has saturated the top half of his tunic with the bucket water. Despite all this he's still trying to make a good impression. New customers are always welcome after all. "And would anyone like anything to drink?" He's finally sobered up enough to do what he should have been doing from the beginning, his job.

Madailynn is a watcher, she always spots people, and one so familiar isn't easy to forget. They only spent the last months before he became a rider together stuck doing chores after all. And at Spryte's offer a soft smile curls her lips. It's easy enough to get Madailynn out of a bad mood, it's being nice, and so she's won over quite well. "If you two don't mind of course.." And only then. "How you been A'dal? Haven't seen you in... oh... since the hatching I'm sure." And when Risly doesn't object the Nanny rises, slides over to the other group's table and takes a seat. "It's not that easy I don't think. She's getting... more creative and blaming them on Jorg." Pause. "She painted my blue firelizard /pink/ for Faranth's sakes." Oi. "Something good?" Kym hazards. "I don't know. I don't come here often. Do you know what's good? Nothing /too/ strong." The greenrider isn't a big drinker. She peers towards Meshach, taking in his dampened state with a half-grin. "Mulberry juice. Um. Is that good?" She looks askance of A'dal and inquires, "Have you had that, before?"

A'dal is hardly hunched, with his height... just stooped to try and hide it. "Mulberry juice, yes," he murmurs to the damp lad, waiting for Kym to pick a table, although he's halfway near Madailynn, mouth half-open to answer her before the nanny moves onto another group. He shrugs a little, and nods to Kym. "It's good."

Spryte adds her owns greetings to those of the others, voice calling out a hello and welcome before turning her attention to both cousin and nanny, glad the latter chose to join them. "Ach, I think she just has a lot of spirit that one. In time it will tone itself down but frankly? I think she will become a strong woman in time as a result of it. " she has a soft spot for Keani, much like herself at that age the young one is.

Risly considers this thoughtfully, head tilted to one side. "Well, yes, maybe. But I'm her /aunt./ She likes me." And that counts for something, right? "Anyway. My parents thought I was wild when I was younger, and look how /I/ turned out." She offers a bright smile.

"Not when it comes back in a juice cocktail that you wanted brandy to be added to." Typhon remarks dryly. "Keani sends the guards into panic whenever she appears. She doesn't understand the meaning of the word /dangerous/..." Now, don't get him wrong, he likes Keani, she's a cute and lovably child. But she is oblivious to things that might hurt her...like a proddy rider with a sword.

Spryte overhears the considering of what to drink and offers something herself "If you don't mind? " she calls "Please try my own special drink, it's not too strong and very nice, at least I think it is. It's up to you, feel free to have some if you so choose."

Madailynn turns her head to peer over her shoulder and catch the open mouthed A'dal. "You can come over here too I'm sure. We're just discussing the Holder's children." She states idly with a shrug before turning back to the conversation. A bit of a chuckle bubbles up from her throat at that. "But I'm her favorite Nanny and have been for the last near five turns." She chimes sweetly and shakes her head. "She'll learn to calm down Typhon... just give her a few turns. Did I ever tell you she threw Zivath into a fit and had the whole weyr abuzz with annoyance at us?" It wasn't her fault. Nope!

Kym directs a finger towards a table in her general vicinity, suggesting, "There?" She pauses to glance towards the table occupied by the three women, then adds, "Or we can always sit with them, if you'd like." Then it's back to pondering the choice of drinks. "Is it? Maybe I'll try that, then," she decides. Spryte's offer draws a hesitation, however -- and another decision. "Or that. Or both?"

Maura desides just to sit and chat, nothing to drink for now. A slight yawn escapes her as she quickly covers it. Her eyes showing the days work in a faint glimmer. She trys to think of Keani, and succeeds, but can't really say much, seeing as though she has not ever actually talked with her. She leans her back against the chair and listens intently to anything that she might know about.

Typhon shudders. "The way she's going she may not have a few turns..." Shaking his head, he moves himself off that subject. "I'll have one of Spryte's drink too. It's great." Much better than any of Meshach's concoctions.

"Does she?" Risly seems almost proud of her niece as she takes in Typhon's information. "How nice." Er. The woman eyes Madailynn again, sizing her up critically. "Maybe so. But /I'm/ family." Touche?

Meshach shoots a superior glance to Typhon before he climbs unsteadily to his feet and walks up to the edge of the bar. "Something good?" Mesh pauses thoughtfully. "You could try Werry Breath, or if you want something with a bit less kick you could try one of the wines or my fruit cocktail." He's trying to steer people away from Spryte's drink, mostly because he doesn't remember how to make it. "I really suggest the fruit cocktail." Mesh doesn't like being embarrassed, and being wet and inept would be just a bit too much for his fragile ego.

A'dal drifts towards the women, taking a seat at their table a little hesitantly. "Just a fruit drink would be fine," he tells Meshach, waiting for a break in the conversation to introduce himself softly as "I'm A'dal." In case anyone didn't hear Madailynn.

Spryte offers a soft smile to Meshach as she watches him hesitate "Meshach? Just ask Smerle to bring the jug, I make it up fresh every morning and there is plenty to go around." another smile goes to those joining them at the table "Well met A'dal, I'm Spryte and that is Risly " she indicates the woman to her left " And it seems you already know Madailynn, please, you are more than welcome at our table. " is added as she notes the discomfort.

"Wherry breath?" Kym replies dubiously. "Er. That name doesn't do /anything/ for the drink, if I say so myself. I don't want to come out stinking like a wherry, sorry." She, too, heads for the table a moment after A'dal and gracelessly falls into one of the empty seats. "Kym," she introduces herself simply.

Ysabella opens the door from the Kitchens and saunters in.

Typhon walks over and inclines his head. "I am Typhon, for those of you who do not know me. And don't have the Wherry breath. I think he put wherry dung in it...or at least it tastes that way." he grimaces in remembrance. "I taste most of his new concoctions...out of a morbid sense of curiosity. At least camp rations will taste good after those drinks." Amazing, because camp rations are some of the worst tasting food around.

"I'd be happy to taste your drink, Spryte," A'dal replies with perfect politeness, straightening his shoulders a little as he relaxes. "And I'll take note to stay away from the Wherry Breath."

Madailynn remembers seeing Kym around the weyr, but that's no matter. "But... you're never around." She sends a smirk at Risly with a brow waggle before attention shifts to the two riders. "So what brings you two to the hold 'eh?" Lately it seems a lot of riders have been dropping by. And all are welcome save proddy T'on. Proddy T'on's are evil you see. Evil with a sword.

"Risly," chirrups the overdressed female with a bright smile, readjusting her skirts for the fifteenth time. "That's me." Kym and her graceless fall are eyed with a faint expression of disdain, but Risly soon replaces her smile, looking towards A'dal next. "Well met, of course." Then, it's back to regarding Madailynn with a countenance that hints of irritation. "/I/ was on a vacation," she states loftily. "Almost handfasted. Twice." But Risly's too much of a flirt to let her relationships last for very long.

Typhon agrees with that sentiment totally. Proddy T'ons are evil because they find swords to use to attack hapless guards. And the hapless guards can't fight back, because he's proddy and shouldn't be held responsible for his actions.

Ysabella timidly enters the Tavern and looks around with honey brown eyes to those gathered here. Her hair is presently pulled up out of her face with a thin pink ribbon, wisps have escaped though, and are tickling her cheeks. Steps are tentative and she tries not to make eye contact with any patrons. Being drawn to the bar, she quietly asks for a glass of water from the 'tender.

Ysabella

Standing at an average 5'6, this lady's size does not stand out in a crowd under any circumstances. Even her build is average, toned, and slender, but not in excess of either. Her face is oval and sweetly rounded, with little dimples pulling in on either side of her pink lips. Underneath a pair of well groomed brown eyebrow, reside two largish oval eyes of a inviting honey brown hue. Atop her head, straight locks of golden brown are shaped into chunky layers, framing her face in a sweet manner.

A cute outfit worn more for compliments than for serviceability. The top is comprised of a square cut from a sheer pale pink material. There are four ribons coming from the top, two to tie around her neck, and two around her mid back. This leaves her back totally exposed except for the two pink bows of the ribbons. Over top she wears a billowy white shirt, open. Her trous are a dark brown color and hug her legs showing off youthful curves. They come to a stop half-way between her knees and feet. On the fore-mentioned feet are worn strappy brown sandles. A cute, and very flirty outfit. Ysabella looks to be in her late teens.

Spryte sense an aura of T'on in the room although the name has not been spoken, odd...mental shrug..and graceless fall is noted with an inner smile. Ahh, someone who sits like she does, can't be all bad. " Well met Kym. " A'dal grinds his teeth audibly at the mention on T'on, glancing around a little for distractions.

Maura grimaces slightly. Mainly from the names and said tastes of the drinks. "I'm Maura." She says, a little belatedly, but it is still said.

Meshach groans softly. The unknown drink has been ordered. "Um, I'll have everyone's drinks in just a moment." A passing drudge is hailed and put to work. "Please mix up two of Spryte's favorite drink." The drudge looks like he might complain for a moment before he slips off to find out just what is he should be making. Mesh turns back to the crowded tavern with a smile. "A fruit drink? I'll have a special mix made up just for you then." If A'dal knew what was good for him he'd probably run right now, but it usually takes people a few experiences of their own to gain that sort off reflex to Mesh's drinks. A mug is pulled out from under the counter before Mesh finishes processing Typhon's remark. "My drinks aren't bad Typhoon. If you don't like them you should say that when I give them to you for testing." Yes, Mesh is very systematic about his alcoholic drinks. His fruit ones on the other hand are adventures. Already the mug on the counter has gotten dollops and squirts of bluefruit, redfruit, orangefruit, and even mulberry juice. Not only that, but there are still more types of juice coming out of niches under the bar. Ysabella is reconized with a nod. "I'll get it in a momment."

"Well met," Kym carelessly tosses out for the multiple introductions, propping those deadly elbows upon the table as she awaits her drink. Multiple drinks? "Why not?" she responds to Madailynn gamely. "The Hold's got better drinks than Xanadu, I think." The Weyrsecond considers Madailynn for a minute, but fails to place her and lets it pass, turning attention towards the barkeep instead. "Great."

A'dal is brave enough to drink almost anything as long as it doesn't contain alcohol. "We're just here for something to drink, like Kym said," he tells Madailynn with a smile. And T'on isn't there at that moment.

Madailynn sends both her brows up. "Twice? I was just almost handfasted once... but a dragon sort of impressed my husband to be sooo... instead I'm just an unofficial weyrmate thing until I get the guts to wash the Senior Weyrwoman's dragon." And that's all she'll mention on /that/ subject. "Well, I guess good drinks are a good reason, just leave your proddy riders at home..." Please? Oh purdy please. "I'm Madailynn by the way... Hold's Head Nanny, you might have seen me around the weyr a few times." Or maybe not considering she was lurking and picking up gossip at the time.

Spryte smiles at Maura and inclines her head in greeting. Aqua eyes blink a little at the words tumbling out of the nanny "Wash the Senior Weyrwoman's dragon? I'm confused...what does that have to do with weyrmating? " there must be a connection and the only thing Spryte can think of is strange ceremony, wash a dragon and poof you are officially weyrmated? Odd crowd the weyr.

"Twice," Risly affirms with a sweet smile that's nearly /too/ sweet. "I got bored, though." She peers towards A'dal momentarily to cheerily state, "Nothing wrong with that. Feel free to visit anytime." Glancing back to Madailynn, she prompts, "Oh, do tell. Why do you have to wash a dragon? I would've thought that you can weyrmate without her permission."

A'dal tilts his head, one hand worrying at a loose thread on his shirt. "What does T'cerin say about it?" he asks Madailynn curiously.

Typhon spares a glance for Meshach. "You do realize that it would help if you actualy /tasted/ the drinks you made, instead of randomly adding ingredients. After a few dozen drink experiments, with /no/ successes, you might have learned something by tasting." And it would probably cut down on the number of new drinks to try, as Mesh would probably get drunk again...and force him to cut down on the number of new drinks he has to try. "Wash the dragon? I thought they washed themselves, with a little help from firelizards."

"Proddy riders?" Kym eyes Madailynn. "What does that have to do with anything?" The rider's tone edges on frostiness; /she/ rides green, herself, so it's not that surprising that she's not very pleased upon proddiness being spoken of so disparagingly. Even if she doesn't exactly like it herself.

"Dragons? Wash themselves?" A'dal's jaw drops a little as he looks at Typhon. Has the man never looked at the lake? "I wish...." he groans softly.

D'oh! Someone just /had/ to ask for more details didn't they? Poor Madailynn. "It's a long story... if you really care to hear it I'll tell you the whole mess... but... it's long." She warns the ones that question her. "Or maybe not /long/. Just, complex and confusing." Pause. "T'cerin say? I don't think he knows of the little deal I have going with the Weyrwoman as of yet A'dal... He'd probably laugh." Sulk, and it's not funny either. Eyes then flicker away from the group and catch sight of a familiar looking face. "Ysabella!" Beam. "Come over here you!" But her happy 'tude is cut down by Kym's eyeing. "I didn't mean... well T'on was here a few sevendays back and caused quite a start.. and left a nasty cut in one of our tables..." Poor table! It was so scared after that ordeal!

Meshach finally finishes off A'dal's drink with a splash of greenfruit juice. The add-in does nothing for the already murky grey color of the concoction. Mesh doesn't seem to notice, or care, about the color of his creation though. Instead he pushes the goop across the counter and yells out "Fruit juice." In a voice that should carry over the crowd. Typhon is given a glare and a crisp comment. "I don't drink alcohol." Yes, Mesh is a highly unusual bar tender.

"I was there," Kym reminds Madailynn shortly. "He does that. The Weyr will replace it, if we haven't already. But T'on didn't hurt anyone. I don't see what the problem is." She grins faintly at A'dal, attention diverted at the mention of washing dragons. "Lucky for me that Gwyneth's so small," she remarks before glancing over at Meshach. "You don't drink?" she repeats incredulously.

Typhon remarks dryly. "He wanted to make a nasty cut in me." Though he wasn't scared...just exasperated...especially after T'on decked him. "And that is why your drinks are all awful, Meshach. /Taste/ them for once and you'll appreciate what you put your customers through. They come back because this is the /only/ place within a day's travel that sells drinks."

"I'm not going anywhere," Risly comments. "You've got the time to tell it, yes?" She glances towards Spryte, mouing a pout. "When's /our/ drinks and food going to get here?" she wants to know with a little sniff.

A'dal gets to his feet, moving over to take the unpleasant-looking drink. "Sensible man, not drinking," he tells Meshach, sniffing warily at the cup. "Hmmm. /Smells/ alright...."

Ysabella smiles brightly, showing little dimples to Meshach as she turns around on her stool to let her eyes take in those patrons here. A few snippets of conversations are caught briefly before turning back to lean on the bar, her elbows on the wooden surface, hands then supporting her chin in them. Orbs of honeyed brown still flicker to the 'tender and then to the smoothed surface 'neathe her elbows. Sitting up straight as her name is called, she looks around to find the source of the odly familiar voice. A brow is cocked as Madailynn is spotted, "Maddy?" She gets up to go over to the table, but before she does, turns to the 'tender and says in a sing-song voice, "Try half a glass of a sweet red wine add to it two heaping spoonfulls of crushed ice, about 1/3 of a glass of the sweetest berry juice you have. Cover and shake." She leaves him with a wink and a smile as she makes her way over to the nanny's crowded table. "It should, since that is the only way Meshach can judge the drink." Typhon comments. "Don't worry, you'll live to regret it. While the drinks taste awful, he hasn't poisoned anyone yet. If he had, I would have had to close down his bar."

Kym cranes her head in an attempt to peer at A'dal's drink. "Looks bad, though," she mutters before sending a smile towards Meshach. "How about you just get me whatever the rest are drinking? I changed my mind. No fruit juice for me." Unless A'dal proclaims it good, that is. Kym's just not brave enough to try it for herself without prior approval. She dismisses Typhon's complaint with an airy wave of her hand, commenting, "He always wants to make cuts in people. Never does."

Madailynn purses her lips quietly a few moments. "It's not a problem Weyrsecond... just... a frightening ordeal for the 'little holder' people such as myself." She gives one of those fluttering lashes looks. See, she's all sweet and innocent and... Right... "Fine fine, if you really want to know. I'll explain... I have a 'fear' of dragons I guess, and the Weyrwoman said she'd allow me to move there with her blessings if I proved that my fear wasn't a major problem. And by proving it.. I have to survive washing Zivath." Pause. "And that dragon was just /trying/ to make me run the other way yesterday." Or wet herself, one or the other. Hand snaps up her cold cup of tea, a swig is taken before Ysabella makes her way on over. "My my, it's been turns to say the least. Been well my dear?"

A'dal returns to his feet, still looking at the 'juice' rather than drinking it. And he goes on looking at it after placing the cup on the table - at least till his attention's caught by Ysabella. Is he staring? Just a little.

Meshach nods to Kym. "No ma'am. I don't drink at all. There was a stable hand on out farm who drank when I was a boy. The man stunk and was always feeling horrible. Besides, when I tried a sip of beer it tasted awful." A complaining voice from the back of the bar coincides almost perfectly with the drudge's arrival. "Let's see here. I've got two mixed drinks here." Mesh shouts this out too, he learned a while ago that he couldn't keep up if he tried to hand all the drinks out himself. "I think these are the drinks that lady recommended." That's not vague, no sire. It's not like Mesh caries, he's doing his job after all. "I'll get you a drink mixed up again as soon as I find a drudge, miss." This is of course directed to Kym.

After awhile of silence, and still not knowing exactly what to say, Maura looks over at the bar. She is easily humored by the drink discussion and looks, somewhat worried, at the drinks being passed about from the bar. She stands and bows in respect to everyone there. "Well, I'm out for now. Goodbye all." She heads for the door. A nod finishing her exit. Maura opens the door to the Residential Hallway and disappears from the gossip of the Tavern.

Spryte eyes the green rider with a smile "I'm assuming by small you mean relatively? " dragons are big things, the idea of a small one rathers intriques her, makes her think runner size, but she knows better.

A'dal gives Maura a quick nod of farewell, though he's still debating this juice.

Typhon takes the drink and sips it, relishing the flavor, so /not/ like the drinks he normally has. "If that's so, then why did you become a bartender, Meshach?" he asks idly. "You know, Madailynn, that the dragon /probably/ won't hurt you. Just pretend that you're washing a wall or something. Think of the dragon as a child, and don't let it intimidate you. You don't let your children intimidate you, do you?"

"See? That wasn't so bad," encourages Risly with a faintly smug smirk. "Not so long. Interesting story." The young woman rises to her feet, tossing her hair out of her face, and directs towards Spryte, "I'd better go. Promised Keelin I'd spend some time with her today -- she was busy with hidework earlier. And I suppose I should visit my old mare -- the one Keelie got for me for my Turnday years ago. She's a dear." Risly babbles, but only a little. "So I'll see you later. You know where to find me." Gathering her skirts, she starts for the exit, glancing back to award the others with a brief wave; the incorrigable flirt can't resist throwing in small wink for A'dal before she turns back around and moves out. Risly walks out the doors leading to the Inner Courtyard.

Ysabella flutter soft eyelahses a little bit as she looks around for an empty seat. She feels strange just standing up when everyone else is sitting round. She leans over to give Madailynn a gentle hug, "It's been too long dear. How are your parents? Mother told me that you were around here but I didn't think as soon as I arrived there you would be." A lock is not trapped twirled around a slender finger. She looks around at the men gathered round with a soft smile.

Spryte groans a little at Risly and her winking but she is a dear once you get used to her "See you later hon."

Kym doesn't buy eyelash fluttering -- or approve of that tactic, either, so she just frowns briefly back at Madailynn. "Sounds like something Elisa'd think up," she remarks, attempting to withhold her laughter. A sympathetic grin is slanted towards the barkeep, and she nods once. "Thanks. I'd appreciate that." Her gaze slants back to Spryte. "Yes -- relatively. Smaller than most."

A'dal blinks after Risly in definite surprise, gulping a little as he tries to ignore Ysabella. "Gwyneth's not that small for a green though, is she?" he asks Kym, seeming glad to have a subject he knows something about. One large hand reaches for the cup, and then pauses.

One down... how many left to go? Madailynn is freed by one. "Luckily she doesn't know the story has a lot more details..." A grumble is given before her shoulders roll into a shrug. "Anyway... oh! Ysa! My parents? I'm not sure.. I left there about a turn ago and haven't really gotten more then a few letters saying my-" Grump. "-brother is doing well. How about your mother?" Always exchanging old bits of info before a dry look is given to Kym. "I know... and last night I got another one asking for me to wash her dragon. Luckily I evaded that with suggesting candidate help." There's a ton of those, shouldn't be that hard to get one blue dragon washed. "And no dragon is... /small/ per say A'dal." She gets the feeling she offended Kym by her proddy comment and lets herself kind of 'fade to black' from the greenrider's attention.

"Is she always like that?" Kym wonders of Risly, directing the amused question towards Spryte; don't think she didn't notice that wink tossed to A'dal. In lieu of an elbow, she sends a teasing grin his way. "I think someone /likes/ you." Ahem. "Actually, she is," the greenrider replies, referring to Gwyneth. "One of the smaller ones." Too bad that Kym's still got her sights on Madailynn -- she doesn't fade so easily. "It's not that scary," she remarks. "Dragons won't hurt people. They're just big. You'd better get over it if you're thinking of moving in with T'cerin."

Spryte nods and toys a little with the remains of her own drink, sloshing it around in the glass a bit while listening to the conversation around her. Her thoughts are a bit distracted as she contemplates what she was working on earlier and how she just can't get the numbers to match up correctly on the list. The same list appearing to be a rather soggy mass now on the table. No matter, it was one she was using just to tally with, not the real one. Eyes discretly check out the people at the table, mind registering each one for the future, she prides herself on never forgetting a face.

Meshach smiles at Typhon almost sweetly. "I became a bartender for two reasons." E pauses a moment for effect before continuing. "One of the reasons was that I thought it would be easy. The other is that I thought it would help me meet girls." Mesh turns as a drudge walks through the tavern, he must be new here. Mesh quickly enlists him to go mix up another of 'those drinks.' Only that drudge knows what poor Kym will end up with. With that out of the way Mesh finally gets around to getting that water.

Spryte blinks a little as she realizes a question had been directed at her and glass almost goes for a tumble. Wool gathering in company could be considered rude by some, now what was the question? Oh yes, Risly. "Well yes, but she is harmless and truly a good heart. It just takes some time to get to know her, but mark my words, it is worth taking the time. She would give the shirt off her back to those she consdiers friends."

"Thanks, Kym," A'dal responds, his fast furious flush subsiding slowly. "Theoth's not as big as my Meath," he remarks sagely to Madailynn, though. In case she hadn't noticed. Finally, finally, he reaches out to take his cup in one hand and sip the contents.

Madailynn frowns a bit, she's /trying/ to get out of Kym's 'kill sights', she really is, but whatever she does doesn't quite seem to be working to shake the seemingly skilled 'attacker'. Darn. "I'm getting better." She objects. "I pat Zivath on the nose and had a conversation about how young ones grow up and forget about their mothers." And she didn't even freak out and run the other way when she got that gold's voice in her head either. "Theoth is nice..." She wouldn't care if he was the biggest brown on pern--nor does she actually mind the fact he's brown. "He's just a big puppy. And your Meath definitely isn't small by any bets." But then who is she to talk. She hadn't seen the bronze since he hatched!

A corner of Typhon's mouth twitches. "Well...You sure aren't getting any girls. You're getting desperate enough to try and get me. Without any luck either. I don't know about the easy part, you seem rather harried at times. If you want the girls, go for a more exiting job. Become a big and muscular guard." Inside, Typhon's howling with laughter with the thought of Mesh becoming a guardsman, but none of it shows on his face, other than a slight quirk of his lips. "Perhaps you should develop some better drinks, so they'll become inebriated enough to think you're attractive." Turning back to Madi, he repeats himself. "Think of the dragon as a child, especially if it is starting to indimidate you. Think of it as an errant, wayward child and you can't help but not be afraid."

"Harmless, but a horrid flirt?" Kym ganders a guess. She caught the bit about Risly almost handfasting but getting bored. "Not that that's bad." Another grin is slanted towards A'dal in what's a scantily veiled attempt to make him blush more. "/I/ think that you should visit her sometime." Kym considers Madailynn's words speculatively and eventually shrugs. She accepts her drink from the drudge and, without actually taking a good look of what she's receiving, takes a largish sip. And sputters. A lot. "/Ugh!/" So much for her liking that. "Who taught /you/ how to mix drinks?" she demands of Meshach.

A'dal's expression is.... interesting. Swallowing with a pained expression, he shrugs one shoulder at Kym. "I don't think anyone taught him," he answers her, looking towards Meshach. At least he managed to avoid Kym's attempt to make him blush, in the horror of that 'fruit juice'.

Spryte chuckles "Oh that's just a little habit of hers, she means nothing by it, comes as natural as breathing to the girl. " does she truly know if she means anything by it, of course not, but Riz is family after all.

Madailynn's eyes drift to Typhon at his comment. "You know, if it was /really/ that easy, I'd do it. But it's not. Look." She pauses sucking in a lungfull of air before she continues on. "It's not my fault large things bother me." Is stated before she looks towards Kym and gladly is seemingly out of range. Yes! "I haven't seen Meath in ages, you'll have to point him out for me some time actually A'dal." She just wants to remember a 'face' so she can avoid the big bronze in the future. Yup. "Glad all I get is tea from him..." Are the words she mutters under her breath. "Didn't you say the drinks were better here?" Oops, Madailynn is being stupid again. Lets just hope that Kym doesn't hear her.

Ysabella smiles brightly and nods her head, "Mother's been doing fine, we lost Father about a turn and a half ago. But the rest of them are doing fine, Old Auntie Kora keeps talking about you as the sweetest little girl in the whole family. They are currently on train right now, there around Crom about now I would think. I left the train a few months ago. Trading just wasn't as much fun anymore, ya know?" She shrugs her shoulders and spies a stool that she promptly pulls over and sits on. Legs, crossed demurely. Meshach feels a lot like hiding now. "I've met lots of girls." And then they ran away and hid, but that's beyond the point. "As for the work, well I thought all I'd have to do would be standing here and flirting with the girls. It's not my fault I was confused." Actually it is, but that's another story. Kym's comment about her drink breaks Mesh off that train of thought and on to another one. "Oh, I thought myself to mix drinks. Aren't they good?" He's acting like a little kid showing his mother a scribble and waiting for the showers of praise.

Typhon's amusement is starting to burst out of him. His mouth tiwtches more and more violently before he bursts out into a howl of laughter. He laughs evilly and sadistically. "I-I...warned...you." he gasps out between laughter. Their expressions are priceless. Kym is too concerned with her drink to really answer Spryte. The liquor is nearly slammed down on the table as Kym attempts to regain her breath and not choke from what's apparently a horrible taste. "/Gross./" She levels a look that borders on irate upon Madailynn. "Excuse me?" she snaps. "If you've got something to say, you can say it outloud. And it /usually/ is, but this person who's on-duty right now obviously doesn't know a thing about what he's doing." The greenrider stands, shooting a scowl towards Typhon before advancing upon Meshach. "I," she states, "am going to teach you how to /really/ mix a drink since you know so little. What you made was undrinkable." Kym doesn't exactly know anything about mixing drinks, either, but she's fairly certain that her concoctions will turn out better than what she just swallowed.

Spryte smiles as the drudge brings over her drinks and places them on the table, finally, shards where did they go to make them up? The jug was already prepared, but no matter, the drinks are here now and she can attest they are rather better than what ususally comes from this place. "Here try these it will help to get the bad taste out of your mouth."

A'dal reaches for Kym's glass to take a sip.... which screws his face up even worse than the first time. "That's /horrible/..." he rasps, getting to his feet beside Kym, to loom a little in support of his Weyrsecond, whatever she might have planned.

Madailynn looks a bit shocked at the news. "He's dead? But... I mean before I left the 'train he seemed fine." This was oh... six or seven turns back though so again, how would she know. "Oh.. and no one even told me while I was there. Gee. Remind me to write a letter to mom asking why I wasn't informed my Uncle past away." Grump. "Crom? I'm not sure where ma and dad are. Nor do I really care, they'll get the letter if I just.. send it." They always seem to. "And trading does get bor-" But she cuts herself off at Kym's anger gets set upon her for a few moments. Oops. "I said..." She starts but abruptly pauses and reminds herself what happened the last time she goaded on a rider. "Nevermind. It doesn't matter." Fingers flicker up and slide down the scar that's across her left cheek. Spryte just blinks as the greenrider goes stomping towards the bartender and as A'dal joins her. She really must try and avoid all the drinks in here if the reactions and responses mean they truly are as bad as Typhon has lead her to believe.

Meshach swallows. His scribble has just been torn to shreds and stomped on. "I've been told that my drinks are good." He protests weakly before crumbling. "Fine, If you can mix a better drink then me I'll let you try and teach me." At least that way Mesh can be certain that his time won't be completely wasted. "And don't forget that I don't drink." Have fun trying to teach him how to mix drinks when he won't even taste them. Have a bit of luck too, it will be needed.

Ysabella laughs a sweet lilting sound and calls after Kym, and towards the 'tender as well, "Just don't intermix tastes. If it's a dry liqueur, don't mix anythign sweet with it. If it's sharp, like rum or whiskey, toning it down with ice or water is always good. To make wine cocktails, make sure you match up the tastes. Sweet with sweet, dry with dry. It's all very simple indeed." A solemn nod is turned back to her cousin, "He just got bad at one point, healer said it was an infection in his lungs and it made it hard to breathe for him. He finally just didn't wake up one morning. We accepted it fine, was hard on Mother though." tryign to lighten the mood, she cocks her head in the direction of the 'tender and Kym, "Can you believe the trouble they are having? It's all very simple. Of course, Uncle Dank taught me to mix his drinks at the age of 11." She chuckles lightly.

A'dal looming is probably a good idea, for Kym's rather petite. She's learned over time, though, just how to make her diminutive frame appear menacing. With hands planted on hips, she glances back towards A'dal long enough nod once in agreement -- and to shoot an annoyed "I'll deal with /you/ later" back towards Madailynn -- before concentrating her attention upon Meshach. "You. Come with me. We've a 'keep who actually knows what he's doing in Xanadu. You are going to take a lesson from him. Now." Her original idea -- herself mixing a drink -- is forgotten in favor of making Meshach take lessons from someone who knows what he's doing.

Typhon is gasping for breath, but his laughter is subsiding. "That wouldn't be hard." he remarks to Kym. "And they really are undrinkable." With an effort, he reins in his amusement, and his face becomes it's normally stony visage, though his lips still twitch occasionally and a deep throated chuckle escapes every once in a while. "By who, Meshach. I've never heard anyone praise them. And you know how often I'm in here. You could try not putting in wherry dung." he suggests.

"Even that fruit one was nasty," A'dal points out to Meshach, blinking over at Ysabella with a look of complete bemusement as she interrupts a seemingly-serious conversation to talk about drinks. "Kym? Do you need help?" he asks her softly.

Madailynn stares blankly at Kym's for a moment. "But I didn't do anything." Is the comment she gives back before blinking and looking back towards her cousin. "I'm sorry to hear about it nonetheless." Pause. "He makes good tea you know. You can't take him!" Madai needs him to make her good tea here! Yeah. Nanny rises up to object and starts to slide off towards the riders. "He's needed here." Sulk.

"We won't keep him," A'dal promises softly.

Spryte chuckles a little at the comotion and then spies her sodden mess of list again on the table. It reminds her that her work is not by a long shot done and before another candlesmark of time passes she really had better get at it. Maybe then she will get a good nights sleep unlike last night. Her glass gets drained and she picks up the list, shaking off a droplet of juice from it before attempting to straighten it out on the table. Eyes peer towards the confrontation, 'tender going to learn how to mix drinks, nanny saying nope he's not. Life is never boring in Xanadu.

Meshach considers for a second. Then he meekly folds his hands and nods. "Yes ma'am. If you want me to come I will." Why is he being so docile? Because there must be a whole bunch of girlies hiding out in the Weyr. Besides that while mesh was at the Weyr he wouldn't have to listen to Typhon complain about his drinks. Mesh walks around to the front of the counter. Granted though that he doesn't come any closer then the bar is thick, these people still scare his too much to come that close.

"Yes." Kym quirks a small smile for A'dal. "You can help me drag him over to Xanadu if he protests?" she suggests before glowering at Madailynn. "I can do whatever I want. I'm benefiting the Hold. Why don't you just go sit down? Faranth. You sound like you think that I'm going to steal him away and lock him up. I'm just going to provide him with a little knowledge." The greenrider relaxes enough to slant a tight, approving smile towards Meshach before the stern expression slides back into place. "Good. Follow me."

Ysabella chuckles slightly as the bartender is going for a lesson. A bright smile creeps over her lips, "While your over there, can I mix up a few drinks? I do love it so, and it's so much fun. I won't make a mess, I promise." Batting lashes are sent in his direction as she steps over the counter.

Madailynn's lips purse and she looks quite stubborn at A'dal. "I don't believe you." And she honestly doesn't for some reason. It just seems like they're going to teach him and them keep him all to themselves once he actually knows what he's doing again. But it doesn't look as if she's getting /anywhere/ so the nanny just huffs and walks away. "Bye Mesh... maybe I'll see you when I visit T'cerin." Whenever that'll be. Something's been up between the Nanny and brownrider as of late, or at least one would think by the why she's been acting.

Typhon rises. "I think I'll come along too. Perhaps I could help mix my own drinks, since I would actually /taste/ them." And he can torment Mesh some more. "Who knows. I may retire and become a bartender myself."

A'dal looks from the bartender to Kym, and uncertainly towards the younger women. And then, again, to Spryte. "Might I taste your concoction?" he asks suddenly, glancing again at Kym as if for permission.

Meshach turns as he hears Madi complaining. "I'm sorry Madi, but they are bigger then I am." A pause. "Well they've got big dragons." He pauses again, this isn't going very well. "I have an idea. Why don't you tell the drudges to fill up a mug with the hot water that's always going in the back and then bring you that and a tea bag? That way you can make it just how you like it." Mesh grins, he's be more worried about Madi except that she's already claimed. Ysa is given a distracted nod, "Um, sure have fun. Just make sure that you keep the marks in the black. Oh, and you probably want to talk to the steward about it too." Kym pauses mid-stride to glance towards Spryte and A'dal. "Tell me if it's any good?" she requests hopefully. "If it is, she can always come over to Xanadu and teach our own bartender the recipe, maybe?"

Madailynn slinks into her chair and gives a quiet sulk. "I don't make tea." She snaps sourly back at the leaving 'tender. "Just... go." Sulk. Wow. Mood shift. Yup, it has to be 'that time of the month' or something.

Spryte sighs a little as she peruses the numbers on the list, moving it this way and that as if it will suddenly provide the answer she has been looking for, but it remains stubbornly mute. Lip gets worried between teeth as she studies it and then starts to giggle. "Shards, all night long and all morning and that was the problem! I'm as dense as a wherry at times, honestly." she doesn't usually talk to herself but this is an exception. Ok, she does usually talk to herself but who needs to know that? Concoction, what concoction is being mentioned now? Head turns and spies a pair of eyes regarding her...oh her concoction. Duh. "Yes please, help yourself. " glass is offered the rider with a smile.

A'dal takes the glass slowly, sitting back down and smiling at Spryte - he doesn't need to loom over her. Though his bulk is of course at Kym's disposal should she need him. Taking a small sip of the drink at first, he then smiles again, and takes a longer swallow. "Nice."

Meshach bites his lip. He's not sure what to do at all. "If you come over to the Weyr I'll make you tea there. The truth is that I've been losing business and maybe learning a few new recipes will help get more people here." He glances over at the pouting lady hopefully. "having your tae move a little farther away for a while is better then having the Tavern go bankrupt isn't it?" Not that the bar could go bankrupt with the prices Mesh charges. Then again there are a lot of people who refuse to pay for their drinks because they can't drink them.

"Wanna come teach the people at Xanadu how to make good drinks?" Kym hopefully inquires of Spryte once her brew is marked with A'dal's stamp of approval. She doesn't wait for an answer, though, beckoning Meshach with an authoritative finger and barked command: "Come on!" Off she strides.

Kym walks out the doors leading to the Inner Courtyard.

Madailynn's body stiffens, head languidly turns to regard the 'keep quietly. "Didn't you hear me? Just /go/." Sulk.

Meshach walks out the doors leading to the Inner Courtyard.

Leo opens the door to the Residential Hallway and disappears from the gossip of the Tavern.

A'dal frowns after Kym, but it seems that she's managed to move Meshach without needing his help. "It's good," he tells Spryte again, contentedly taking another swallow.

Meath> The Great Courtyard (Weyrside)

Spryte beams "You could almost call it a family secret. My father started it a long time ago, he added certain things and then my brothers got in the act and then during my travels I pick up a few things to add to it as well. I'm so glad you like it, and believe it or not, it's not that hard to make. Simple really." she is in one very good mood now that the problem of the list has finally been solved. Head pivots at the riders comment and she laughs "Somehow I don't think Keelin would too approving of me going to teach the weyr how to mix drinks instead of doing my duties here." silly idea that but it is nice to be appreciated.

Meath> Kym heads over from the center of the Courtyard.

Meath> Meshach heads over from the center of the Courtyard.

"If it's a family secret, I guess you can't teach us anyhow," A'dal replies, seeming to almost mope as he looks around the emptying tavern. "That's a shame... but you could come for an hour or so, couldn't you?" he asks, hopefully.

Everyone say hello to miss sulky. All her friends are getting dragged off. And it's obvious that it's getting to her. "Why do I have to wash a sharding dragon to-" Madailynn doesn't continue, she just, leans back in her chair and falls silent.

Meath> Kym pivots to peer over at Meshach. "What makes you think that you know a /thing/ about mixing drinks?" the greenrider practically rants. "How did you ever get that job? You'd think that you'd have to be...screened or something. Or taught the basics." Kym looks fairly disgusted.

Typhon follows the others.

Typhon walks out the doors leading to the Inner Courtyard.

Tubal opens the door to the Residential Hallway and disappears from the gossip of the Tavern.

Meath> Typhon heads over from the center of the Courtyard. Meath> Typhon follows the others idly, more out of boredom and a inner streak of sadism than really wanting to learn to mix drinks.

Meath> Gwyneth lifts her angular head from her forelegs to whuff lazily at the pair that enter the Weyr's section of the courtyard. More specifically, her rider. Meath gets a ladylike rumble too, and Gwyneth opens a set of eyelids while swishing her tail restlessly. The smallish green rumbles once, twice, drawing Kym's attention and irritability. "Not /now,/ Gwyn. I'm busy. You've already caused enough trouble for one day."

Meath> Tubal heads over from the center of the Courtyard.

Spryte tilts her head to look at the man, pleasant face he has, nice. "Well, I have taught a few of the drudges to make it so it's not much of a secret anymores. " she laughs a little, face tinged a bit pink at the compliment. "I can go if you would like, but I really can't stay too long? " eyes travel to the door as if expecting Keelin to show up at any second. What has gotten into Spryte, usually she is the first to jump in with both feet. Blame it on lack of sleep.

Meath> Meshach raises his gaze as his guide starts to reprimand. "Well it was pretty simple to get the job. After I'd been at the Hold for a while I just mentioned that I'd like to be a bar keep. I guess they just assumed that I knew what I was getting into because they put me in as a bar keep." Mesh sidesteps a little away from the rumbling dragons before he adds on a nervous. "They didn't ask me to mix a drink or anything. They just said, 'Okay, I guess you can have the job.' Or something like that, honest."

Madailynn's amber eyes flicker around, and a question rises up in her throat. "Why am I always getting left?" She would like to know this. One moment she was talking to Mhairi and he next moment she and the two candidates she was speaking with were just... /gone/.

Meath> Leo has arrived.

Meath> Vanuth glances at the green and rumbles softly at her but lies down again, he is patiently waiting for someone.

Spryte turns and holds out her hand towards Madailynn "Why don't you come with us? I really won't be there long and you could walk back with me?" tis a friendly offer and she really could use the company on the way back.

Meath> "You've got to be joking." Kym redirects her attention from the green to Meshach. "I would've thought that they would've had some sense." Gwyneth, meanwhile, continues to whuff and snuff, presumably out of the desire to further annoy her lifemate more than anything else. "Gwyneth! Stop it. Go back to sleep," she snaps. Which Gwyneth doesn't.

Meath> "Bartending isn't a job that attracts hordes of eager people. Not like being a dragonrider." Typhon drawls. "Still, they should have picked someone with a /little/ aptitude for mixing drinks. Couldn't you have at least bought a drink recipe book and /measured/ things out?" he asks Mesh.

Madailynn debates, she does. Not really wanting to be left here 'alone'. Mind you Ysa is here but she's being so quiet. "Could you really use to company?" Is the question asked from the sulky one as her fingers idly play across the table top.

Spryte flashes a very wide smile "Yes I really could, now get yourself out of that chair or I won't be going either." stubborn she is and yes, she means that.

Madailynn's 'tude twists back to one of less sulky and more fun to be around. "Well if you insist. I'll come." She says quietly, uncurling from her chair and sliding closer to Spryte. But she pauses and blinks at A'dal. "That okay?"

A'dal fidgets a little, still drinking his juice. "Of course it's alright, Madailynn.... and it's only for a little while, I promise." A tiny frown develops between his eyes. "Erm.... what do you actually do here?" he asks Spryte worriedly.

Meath> Meshach shakes his head. "Apparently they were short on tenders." The teen stops and thinks for a moment. "Yeah, as far as I've seen I'm the only one there, so then when I wasn't there they must have been relying on drudges completely." And they were probably getting better drinks that way too. Mesh turns sharply as Typhon startles him by talking. "I didn't know you were here. A book about mixing drinks? Tell me if you see a book that costs less then what I make in a turn." Mesh is a little peeved, he'd just thought that he'd escaped the downgrading comments to his drinks when the biggest complainer of them all shows up. Oh well

Meath> "Being a dragonrider doesn't draw those hoards, either," Kym states to Typhon with a little frown. "I don't know what century you're living in." The Weyrsecond falls into a lecturing mode, intoning, "The Weyrs hardly receive tithes anymore. Most Holds begrudge us our right to Search people for the clutches. And plenty of Holders didn't think that we should be allowed to have this land, here, when Bahrain moved down to Xanadu." Gwyneth's persistant in her rumbling, and finally Kym whirls around to glare at the green. "What do you want?" she gripes aloud. "Just tell me. Or be quiet and stop interrupting."

Meath> Vanuth rumbles softly in echo of Gwyneth's but he does not interfere, he is just adding his thoughts to it all.

Meath> Lasarah emerges from the giant main doors.

Meath> Meath lounges, rumbling softly back at Vanuth and Gwyneth. It's sunny, his rider's off somewhere... what else is there to do?

Meath> Lasarah walks towards the center of the Great Courtyard.

Lasarah opens the door from the Kitchens and saunters in.

Madailynn nods quietly to the bronzerider before looking back towards the 'sisstant headwoman. "Alright then. I'll go." But only for a little while, she doesn't want to get roped into dealing with Zivath any time soon. Nope, not at all. Foot taps quietly as she waits, she isn't impatient to get outside. Honest. Spryte points to her knot "Assistant Headwoman and there are some days I actually do it well. " her eyes sparkle with humour, Keelin might have something else to say about that, because in all truth Spryte does a decent job when she isn't trying to change the Hold. The painted flagstones and the purpled walls now re-repainted in the dining room are a testament to her ingenuity of trying to always do a good job.

Meath> Typhon quirks an eyebrow at Mesh. He's the biggest consumer of the aforementioned drinks too. "With the prices you charge, you make that amount of money in a few sevendays. With /good/ drinks you would make it all back in a few days." Turning to Kym, he replies "Well, there are still a few ordinary holders who dream of becoming dragonriders. Their lord holders might not be as appreciative, but nobody I know dreams of becoming a bartender." The fussy dragon is ignored.

Risly opens the door from the Inner Courtyard and walks in. Risly is baa--ack. Fear? Something like that. Risly's still dressed in full skirts and, to judge from the addition of makeup, has been 'primping.' She directly moves back towards Spryte, smile blossoming into place upon those roseate lips. "Keelin's still busy," she remarks by way of explanation.

"Lasarah! Haven't seen you since you went back to Herder!" A'dal gets distracted by the herder's entrance.... and then gulps at Spryte. "Assistant headwoman? In that case, I don't suppose we can borrow you..." And oh look, there's Risly back. All of a sudden A'dal starts to fidget with nervousness. He's surrounded by women.

Lasarah steps into the taverns, eyes sweeping the area before settling on Madi. "You're the nanny, aren't you?" she asks hesitantly, pushing her hair from the side of her face. "I seem to recognize you. I've been looking for you actually. You see, my journeywoman is about to have her first child, and although I know plenty about beastcare, I know nothing about infant care. Do you have time for lessons?" Without even waiting, she sweeps into the chair in front of her, sitting down. "Okay, first! How old are they when they first open their eyes?"

Spryte nods "I suspected she might be, lately she has been, both her and Wagner have had their hands full lately. " she stops and sighs a little, darn, there went her chance for the first bit of adventure in well..forever. " Borrow me? Um, I thought you just wanted me to teach the bartender at the weyr how to make my drink? But...I suppose I could write it down for you?" oh well, so much for getting a break from the Hold for a short span of time today.

Madailynn stares quietly at A'dal, golden eyes glittering in mild annoyance. "Wait... does that mean we aren't going?..." Inquires the Head nanny before she looks back at Spryte. She's lost, what's going on now. Risly's entrance is noted. "She's always busy." Madailynn would know, she's been trying to get a hold of her for the past two sevendays. Pause. Wait, someone she doesn't know is speaking to her isn't she? Lasarah gets an innocent blink. "Madailynn, Hold's Head Nanny at your service-" Another blink and slowly Madailynn just slides on into the nearest empty chair to talk with Lasarah about infant care. "When they first open their eyes?" Madailynn /struggles/ to keep herself from laughing at that one. "Right after they're bored. Even if they like to have them closed for a bit after that. I heard babies don't see well... but, I'm just the nanny so I don't know." She's not a healer, she just cares for the little squirts.

Risly throws over her best coy smile towards A'dal, accompanied by the words, "Why, I would've thought you'd left by now. I don't see that other rider in here anymore." A small, practiced pout is tossed at Spryte. "You're leaving? Right when I get back?" A melodramatic sigh escapes her lips. "If you get to go somewhere, I want to come, too."

"Oh... erm..." A'dal seems desparately flustered. "Erm... well, just for an hour then, Spryte?" he asks her, casting a worried glance towards Risly. Coy smiles scare him.

Spryte is getting a little flustered herself, babies, drinks, pouts and sighs abound in the room. "I'm not leaving leaving Risly dear, I'm just going to do a favour for the nice rider here...A'dal? that was it right? Only an hour and then I'll be back. " Lasarah nods solemnly, waving a quick greeting to A'dal. Oh, but this is so much more important - information from an expert. "Right after they're born? Really? Well, now, that's a bit different. How long before they start crawling all over the place? I've been looking around the hall, and there's terrible lot of things I'm afraid we'll have to move and change if there's a baby around. I heard they like to eat pebbles. That can't be true now, is it?"

Meath> Meshach nods. "I haven't had anyone willingly ask to make drinks before tonight, and I must have been a bar tender for a turn now." It's a wonder anyone even comes to his tavern anymore too. "I don't see what bar tending has to do with dragon riding though. One is mixing drinks and the other is sitting on a large, winged runner." Mesh glances over at the rumbling dragons nervously as he realizes jut where he said that. "Not that you aren't big and pretty." Mesh adds for the draconian benefit.

Meath> "Not many," Kym states with a sniff, attention sliding away from Gwyneth momentarily. "I'm not stupid. I used to live in a Hold. And I've been yelled at plenty of times for carrying off some 'poor child' to the mercy of the clutches." Then, it's back to glaring at the green. "You could've just /said./ Instead of jumping around the subject and--" Abruptly, Kym notices the conversation on her end is being verbalized and quiets. After a moment of silence, she peers back towards Meshach. "She--" Gwyneth is indicated with a pointed finger. "--thinks that you're the next person she'd like to carry off for those clutches. Well. We've only got one, this time, on the Sands. But it's the same idea. Although /I/ wouldn't know why she'd pick someone who makes such awful drinks..." She sniffs. "It's because you buttered her up with compliments. You should know better than that. She's the worst dragon ever. /Vain./ She'll never let you say no, now." Indeed, Gwyneth slinks nearer, releasing a well-pleased croon that's in direct contradiction with her rider's temperment.

A'dal grins rather at Lasarah and Madailynn, seeing them occupied. "Now then?" he asks Spryte, nodding to her use of his name. "And, erm..." Risly gets one of his worried looks as he heads for the door.

Meath> Vanuth rumbles softly in agreement, glad that is now sorted out. He flicks his wings and croons softly and settles down again.

Madailynn is torn, she's looking between Lasarah and A'dal. She wants to go with them, get some fresh air, yet she wants to stay here and help Lasarah out with her 'problem' of not knowing much about kids. It's her duty, and duty comes before pleasure--as always. And this duty seems to be something amusing, Lasarah doesn't seem to know a /thing/. A soft bit of laughter falls away from her lips at all the questions. She feels useful! Yeah! "Crawling? It really depends on the baby. Some don't even learn to crawl in the first place. Like myself, when I was a baby I rolled around, I never crawled. And some just skip straight to walking." She pauses. "But on average it's about eight or nine months before you have to worry about them scooting on around your hall." As for the pebble 'rumor'. "Babies like sticking things in their mouth. Too big things, too small things, anything. I'm sure if they found a pebble they'd try to eat it, but most likely choke so I'd be careful." And the leaving group is forgotten about as she gets her arms full.

"Why?" Risly inquires innocently. "And why can't I come along?" She pauses to glance towards the bronzerider consideringly. "A'dal, was it?" She slinks nearer in a path meant to cut him off from the exit, proferring her hand with fingertips limply dangling; the only thing that'd make it better was if she were wearing elbow-length gloves. Although that might distract from the lacy, bell-shaped sleeves. "I'm Risly. Well met, of course," she practically purrs.

Meath> Meath rumbles softly in agreement.

Meath> Typhon shrugs. "Perhaps they thought that mixing drinks was harder than it must look, judging from your concoctions." He rolls his eyes at Mesh's obliviousness. "There are jobs and I was merely making a comparison." He looks at the dragon and remains silent. No need to swell draconic egos.

Spryte pauses in the middle of the room looking at the riders departing back and then again at her cousin, not wanting to just leave her in the lurch, but there appears to be no danger of that. Risly moves faster than a wherry being chased by a hungry dragon, wow, what moves! She stands just gawking as her cousin practices her um..wiles?

Meath> Meshach backs away a bit nervously. "She wants me to stand on the sands?" Mesh swallows, so much for a quiet day of work. His head is raised further so he can see the dragon more in the face. Actually the idea of not having to work till the clutch hatches sounds pretty good to him "I guess I'll come. Maybe she likes my type of drinks." The last comment is added on almost lightly as Mesh warms to the idea. It'll all be fun and games until Mesh finds out about candi chores.

A'dal hesitates, taking Risly's hand politely. Well, why not. He of course gives it a manful shake rather than kissing her fingertips. "Well met to you too, Risly... I'm A'dal." A'dal, the extraordinary blushing bronzerider. "And... erm... of course you can come too," he answers her a little more confidently, letting go of her hand and making strides /definitely/ to the exit.

Meath> "That's what she said," Kym replies impatiently. "I think she's out of her mind, of course, but she usually is." She rolls her eyes at the last comment, remarking, "Don't bet on it." Gwyneth's satisfied, rumbling again and snaking out her tail closer to the ex-bartender. This one's hers, and Kym's disparaging remarks won't change her mind.

Spryte chuckles at Risly and catches up with her cousin so they can follow the rider before he dissapears, although somehow she figures that is not going to be possible with Risly along. Risly doesn't get fingertips kissed? Pity. The young woman lets that pass, however, and simply saunters after the bronzerider, throwing a grin towards Spryte on the way out.

Lasarah knits her brow, a little confused. "You just rolled around? Like a ball or something before figuring out to walk?" This creates quite a picture in her mind, and she just shakes her head. "Human babies are really quite strange, I'd say." A mini Madi, head ducked, careening off the walls. "As far as putting things in their mouths ... whatever for? I mean, if it didn't taste good, why would they do it? Oh, and someone told me the baby would want a blanket. A special one that they wouldn't want washed. It all doesn't make sense to me at all. Why would they want a dirty blanket?"

Meath> Meshach edges slightly farther away. He's always respected dragons for their size. More then respected sometimes, especially up close. Of course it's a little late for that, he's already agreed to go to the Weyr, perhaps for ever. "They don't bite, do they?" Mesh asks nervously before he stops moving. A tail can't do too much damage after all.

The Great Courtyard (Weyrside)

You see Dancing Pavillion, Tabby, Saarick, Mischief, Morianth, Audath, Cresnath, Narciss, Zivath, Miracle Maxie, Gwyneth, Vanuth, Meath, Tubal, and Leo here.

Kym, Meshach, and Typhon are here.

Risly heads over from the center of the Courtyard.

Spryte heads over from the center of the Courtyard.

A'dal appears, with a different pair of women in tow from those he took to the Hold. "Kym, still here?" he asks the weyrsecond a little nervously, as Meath rumbles a soft greeting.

Kym struggles between taking offense and laughing outright in Meshach's face at the question. In the end, she simply snorts once and shakes her head. "That's absurd. Of course not. Do you look like a wherry?" Maybe that's a question that would be wiser not to answer. "Anyway. This way..." She trails off at the sight of the arriving trio, then quirks a vague grin for A'dal that only widens at the sight of Risly. "Yeah. I suppose Meath filled you in?"

Typhon snorts. "I hope not. Otherwise we'd have to search for a new bartender." Perhaps he'll retire from guardmanship and turn to bartending. He couldn't /possibly/ do worse than Mesh.

Risly is hard-pressed to keep up, what with her huge amount of skirts that she'd forced to hold up with both hands in an effort to keep them from getting dirty and dusty. "Hi," she calls out, cherubic, upon sight of those already gathered in the courtyard.

Spryte catches the last comment from Kym and looks a bit puzzled, Meshach is a wherry? He looks like a wherry? Said wherry is studied, nah, no he doesn't which just leads to her confusion, but that seems to be the order of the day. Just colour her confused. She waits a little for Risly to catch up, those with skirts tend to be not quite as fast moving as those without. foo

Meshach smiles, finally. If something doesn't bite then it must be safe, right? That's Mesh's logic at least. "Which way?" He asks as he turns his attention back to the search rider. This is a good time to make a good impression after all. Then later he try that slacking thing that he's so good at.

Gwyneth's done her duty for the day and is too concerned with her latest 'catch' to spare much attention for those arriving. She's harmless enough, really. At least she didn't bare her teeth at Meshach or anything.

Spryte giggles as the big boy snuffles at Risly "Um dear, you did keep your skirts out of everything on the walk over didn't you? Because it looks like you might have dragged them through something. " head tilts while she tries to see just what is so fascinating to the dragon. Gaze goes back up to watch Risly as the attention is being paid, she does seem to have a way with males, from the looks of it, all males.

Kym basically ignores Risly; she'll let A'dal deal with her. He'll have fun with that. "You still have to take lessons from the bartender," Kym insists of Meshach. "Don't think you're getting out of that. And there's a choreboard that I'll expect you to look at everyday." She pauses to nod off towards the Weyr proper. "That way. Come on." A grin is sent towards the bronzerider as she adds, "We'll have to go back to the Hold to try the drinks again, A'dal, since that didn't end the way I'd thought it would." And with that, she strides away. Kym traipses through the main doors of the Weyrbuilding.

Typhon walks through the main doors of the Weyrbuilding.

Meshach groans, a chore board? It's too late to change his mind now so mesh just follows the leader. Meshach walks through the main doors of the Weyrbuilding.

"But I brought Spryte with me...." A'dal calls after Kym, and then shrugs, turning back to the Hold's assistant headwoman with a hopeful smile. "Sorry about that... Gwyneth's a good Search dragon. She Searched me once." Though any compliment in that statement is ruined as he adds, "Course, that wasn't when I Impressed Meath." And his bronze lifemate gets a proud, fond look. "Leave the lady's skirts be, please Meath?"

"Hey!" Risly protests, smoothing down her skirts from the puff of dragon-breath that threatens to lift them and expose more than Risly'd like. She's not overly concerned, however, and probably doesn't know enough to back away warily; instead she turns a faint frown upon Meath and insists, "You'd better be nice. Or else." The only thing needed to make her threat more absurd would be if she shook her fist at the much larger bronze. Attention diverted to Spryte, she worriedly eyes the hem of her skirts. "I did? Oh no! You're joking. That's not possible. I was /so/ careful..."

Meath seemed to like snuffling round Risly, though at A'dal's request, he breathes a heavy sigh, and extends his large bronze nose towards Spryte instead.

Gwyneth is still a good Search dragon. She's the one who first spotted A'dal, didn't she? Duty done for the day, she lowers head back to forelegs and simply watches the ongoings.

Spryte looks a bit puzzled again at A'dal "But why would you be apologizing about Gwyneth..." oh yes, the light dawns, slowly but it does "Oh my, you mean we have lost Meshach for a time? " a frown and then a shrug, there are assistants there and in all fairness although he is alright in many ways, his drinks do seem to need improving so maybe a stint as a candidate will help with that. These things have a way of working out. A look goes to the dragon now checking her out and she stares into a whirling orb before staring into a cavern which could only be a nostril. Big nostril that. Without thinking she reaches out the pat the big head inches in front of her but stops looking over at A'dal "Would he mind do you think? He is so very nice and perhaps he'd like a nice nose pat? "

Meath stretches his nose a little closer to Spryte, staring at the top of her head, it seems. "He'd like a pat," A'dal answers, mouth curling at the edges, as he adds, "He likes the way the sunlight bounces off your hair." The rider gives a little, embarrassed shrug, looking nervously over at Risly.

Risly's too busy peering at her hems in an attempt to find the offending patch of dirtiness to pay much attention to Meath. Dresses are ever so much more important than dragons, after all. She directs a beam towards A'dal, however, raising her gaze long enough to do so as she assumes the compliment is meant for her.

Spryte giggles and continuing with reaching out, pats Meath on the nose, rubbing gently. "Why thank you Meath, I must say the sunlight looks rather nice on you as well." she smiles up at the dragon, no fear in her stance or demeanor. They are very gentle for all their size and some are quite friendly.

>> Gwyneth bespeaks Meath with: Gwyneth is utterly amused, and it shows; the soprano tone is edged with a light flutter of green-tipped foliage and swirling jasmine as she makes her mark while posing comments. <> Gwyneth, the vain, prissy dragon obsessed with looks and frippery, would. <<

Meath does cast a glance towards Risly, but he's far more enamoured of Spryte's patting. A'dal seems to be paling beneath his tan though, and he glances around a little wildly, eyes skipping over Risly in panic. "Erm.... erm...."

>> I bespoke Gwyneth with: Meath halos an image of Spryte with vivid white light, the shade of the woman's hair. << I like her too. Do you think we could keep her? >> he asks, adding with amber notes of amusement, << Mine is worried. >> <<

>> Gwyneth bespeaks Meath with: Gwyneth meant the other one and is quick to correct, << Not her -- the other. >> But when Meath draws attention to the woman pictured in his thoughts, the green is forced to regard her, too. << She's okay. Doesn't have the pretty skirts-->> Here, she diverges to slide a grumpy line of thought through. <<--/mine/ never wears those. I wish she would. Anyway. She's fine. Make her stay here. >> In a perfect world, both would get to stay. Maybe Gwyneth will just have to hunt down the skirted woman another time. <<

"You think?" Risly simply beams. She's happy. She's got compliments. Life is good. Now, if only her skirts would work out. "Spryte? Are you sure there's something on these?"

A'dal might wish he was off the hook - instead, he looks even more worried. "Did she say we can? Are you sure it's alright?" he asks Meath nervously, one hand fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt. "Do you think...." He looks first at one woman then the other, as Meath watches Risly over the top of Spryte's head, huffing contentedly.

Spryte casts a soft smile towards her worried cousin "Perhaps not? It seems this guy just likes to sniff, maybe it's that lovely scent you are wearing? That could be it, it intrigued him for a moment." her eyes scan the skirts carefully "I don't see anything on them so I think they are alright."

>> I bespoke Gwyneth with: Meath is puzzled. << That one? She likes mine, but... >> Skirts don't impress Meath much. << I like the other better. But mine is worried that we can't ask her. >> <<

>> Gwyneth bespeaks Meath with: Gwyneth noticed that. Or, rather, her rider did. << I'm going to make mine wear pretty things like that. That one is smart. I think she's nice-looking. Mine would look good in dresses. Don't you think? >> She plays with hazy half-images of Kym in fluffy, flowy, dress-like costumes before remarking, << If you think she should stay, then she should. Tell yours to stop worrying. >> Searching, Gwyneth-style. <<

"Oh, good." Risly, relieved, allows the skirts to fall back into place, althoug two fingers pinched together still keep them from touching the dusty courtyard. "Maybe it's that," the young woman deliberates. "It's a new one. Bought it up near Crom, I think. I'm so glad you like it."

Spryte casts her gaze towards A'dal and his strange mutterings, riders always seem to be doing that, talking without actually saying anything as if part of the conversation is elsewhere. A nod goes back cousin wards "Oh it is, I really like that fabric and the colour does suit you so." Her hand is starting to get a little tired so she switched to the other, scritch scritch pat pat.

Meath huffs again at Spryte's hair, stepping back and away from the nose-patting so he can look at her, eyes rotating slowly sapphire. "Erm... erm... Spryte...." A'dal sounds on the point of panic. "Erm.... Meath wants... and Gwyneth says it's alright... and.... and..." He isn't getting this out very well. Deep breaths, deep breaths.... "Would you stand for Fabrinath's clutch?" he asks all of a hurry.

Maura walks in.

Maura walks through the main doors of the Weyrbuilding.

Spryte goes back to her earlier state of confused, this is not supposed to happen, she is supposed to be here to teach the bartender a new drink. Dragons don't like drinks so how did this occur unless, she eyes the dragon carefully, secret drinking habit maybe...head shakes, don't be silly Spryte "But..but...oh I don't think I can. Keelin will kill me! Won't she Risly, she'd kill me and oh my, I'd have to give up our spring trip cus she certaintly won't let me stand here and go away in the spring." drat and darn, she'd been so careful to stay away from the weyr because of the dragons and this thing they have for her hair, but it had been so long since this very same thing occured she honestly thought it was in the past. "Risly? Do you think Keelin would mind?" hesitation wavers the girl.

>> Gwyneth bespeaks Meath with: Gwyneth is fairly insistant on this one, and makes a point of adding, << I want you to ask that other one. Mine's somewhere else. We can't let her escape! >> <<

>> I bespoke Gwyneth with: Meath examines the other one carefully, over the top of /his/ one's head. << You want her too? >> He's an obliging dragon, after all. And Gwyneth is... well, green. <<

Gwyneth isn't done, even though her rider thinks she is. The supposedly relaxed and non-Searching dragon slinks forward again to stick her own muzzle out -- out of the way, Meath! -- and whuffle at Risly and her pretty skirts. /Hers./

Meath whuffs again at Spryte, as A'dal nods hopefully at her. "Please? Would you? Could you?" A'dal's vaguely happy expression lasts all of about three seconds though, until Meath joins Gwyneth in looking at Risly. "No.... we can't? Can we? Do we have to?"

"She will," Risly states, unfased. "Keelin will throw fits. Or Wagner. He hates dragons. Can you imagine how mad he'll be when he finds out?" A giggle escapes her lips. "Oh, that's too priceless. And don't worry -- I can convince my sister to let us go on our trips." A sly grin curves into place. "Oh, do it. She'll be so mad. It's perfect." Risly, demon-child. The green and her whuffling are eyed thoughtfully. "She must like my skirts," Rizzo practically coos. "Aren't they pretty? She's got good taste."

Spryte can't help but agree with Risly to a certain extent, she does have a way with her sister so if Risly says she can square it, then the decision is much easier. " I will need a few things from my home? Can that be arranged? " does her voice quiver a little, yes. But perhaps its time to allow the old Spryte, she of the roaming nature to show itself again. After all, it wouldn't do to become too Holdbound right? um. right.

Gwyneth /likes/ Risly. A lot. The vain dragon is utterly fascinated -- just wait until Kym finds out. She's throw fits. Several. If she's not /already/ mad enough...or, on the other-hand, she'll just see it as the perfect way to tease A'dal mercilessly. Both of which Gwyneth has no problems with. She just continues to snuffle at the bedecked young woman, careful not to muss her hair or skirts too much.

"Um. Um.... Risly, um, Gwyneth would apparently... so Meath says.... Would you be a Candidate too?" A'dal asks, managing to make a slightly better job of asking Risly than he did with Spryte. "And yes, Spryte... of course you can collect things. As long as you come back here." There. He's handling things just fine, isn't he? Although he's managed to twiddle one of the buttons right off his shirt in sheer nervousness.

Gwyneth approves of A'dal. Good boy. She knew there was a reason she liked him in the first place and snatched him up for Sirikith's clutch.

>> I bespoke Gwyneth with: Meath seems vaguely smug. << There. Mine asked. >> A faint note of 'Happy now?' seems to drift in the background. <<

Spryte gapes at Risly, oh this is just too perfect, almost the perfect prank, both cousin Assistant headwoman and sister..Keelin will throw a fit like never before! "Oh Risly, by Faranths sake say yes."

"/Me/?" Taken by surprise, Risly allows eyebrows to arch and places one hand upon her chest with a little flutter of fingers. A glance is shot towards the green as she warns, "Just don't make me have to redo it, now." Otherwise, Risly isn't very concerned about Gwyneth. "Of course. Keelin will be completely furious. I love it." And this only provides an excuse for flirting with A'dal any chance she gets; Risly'd have to be sick not to accept.

"Is that a yes?" A'dal asks Risly faintly.... sounding almost anxious. Meath seems pleased, bronze tail flickering towards Gwyneth.

>> Gwyneth bespeaks Meath with: Gwyneth is perfectly pleased and awards the bronze with a ribbon of spring green and a trilling note of approval. << Tell yours thank you! I /won't/ forget it. >> Is she purring? Uh oh. Risly rubbing off on Gwyneth. <<

Risly directs her dimpled grin towards A'dal. "Yes. I did say that, didn't I?" She reaches up, then, to attempt to lightly tap Gwyneth on the end of her nose. "I like you. I'll visit you /lots./" The same probably holds true for A'dal, knowing Risly.

A'dal seems somewhat weak at the knees. "Erm.... well, I guess both of you should get your things, maybe... and... erm... meet me back here? Or something?" A'dal seems to be in need to some time to himself. And Meath.

Gwyneth would purr with pleasure if a dragon could, and after one more whuffle for 'her' candidate, the green retreats to watch smugly. Her tailtip flickers towards Meath, too, before she returns to her previous state of languid half-awareness.

Madailynn heads over from the center of the Courtyard. Madailynn glides through the main doors of the Weyrbuilding.

Spryte nods to A'dal and promises to be very quick. Then with a smile she flees to gather her things and hopefully not run into Keelin. Spryte goes home.

After a cheery wave thrown back to A'dal and a simple phrase -- "I'll be back!" -- Risly follows after Spryte, presumably to fetch her things.