Graduation for the Weyrlings (clutch 8)

June 23rd 2002
Logged by D'renn


Central Bowl
Seven spindles brush the clouds overhead, displaying a jagged, spired cotillion grey-stoned majesty. The bowl from here is expansively large, extending a full half-mile in both directions, and though a bit of a stretch at times, most of the hubs of activity can be easily observed. Hard-packed ground shows the common pathways, all of them meandering about the craggy bunch of boulders that form a centerpiece within the middle of the otherwise vast emptiness. . The hatching grounds and leadership weyrs are located to the north, while the lows of herdbeasts noisily allude to the feeding pens slightly east of there. Constant traffic marks the entrance to the westward living caverns, whereas a glance southeast reveals the glittering, cold lake. It is a spring midmorning.
Clinging to footholds in the boulder-mound are sixteen firelizards.
Green Kelitath, green Zoryanth, blue Lainnoth, brown Revnath, bronze Telynth, bronze Jhanath, blue Wiranth, blue Tsulryth, brown Shirasuth, blue Trydanth, and brown Druseth are here.

A labyrinth of dragon to climb down, Lylia descends slowly down from the safety of Druseth's neck, to land on the ground with a soft *thud*.

Vorkoroth drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.
Slithering down the straps-ladder, Wyn slides from Vorkoroth's neck and gently touches earth.

Diulnyth drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.

Byndareth drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.
Rana slides across Byndareth's darkened hide to touch down on the ground.

Sinead steps gently in from the Guards Headquarters.

Sakuruth drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.
Quara slithers down Sakuruth's neck and side, avoiding one indigo wing.

Alymath drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.

Issryuith drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.

Lis tries not to bump 'gainst any sharp joints as she slides down Alymath's forearm.

Hiza is removed from Issryuith's neck, sliding down and gaining assistance from tail if need be.

D'renn is just wandering around, checking vaguely with wingleaders and healers, cup of klah in one hand - he's taken the time to change, at least, from soot-stained raspberry to pristine saffron. As Lis arrives, he gives her a sheepish grin.

G'deon walks in.

Lis slithers down Alymath's side to the ground, managing not to fall, rip anything or expose herself to the weyr. (At least not this time of the turn.) Landing with a wince and and 'oif', the greenrider adjusts herself from bustline to hemline before strolling over towards D'renn. Upon reaching him, she crosses her arms and wonders drily, "What're you up to, now?"

Sidramuntalath drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.
Sii'kyn slides down the black hole - that is, slithers down Sidramuntalath's neck to thud lightly on the ground.

Trajan slides down the black hole - that is, slithers down Sidramuntalath's neck to thud lightly on the ground.

Quara is all clean, now. And changed, and orderly. And she's done her hair. Look what efforts she goes to for these weyrlings. "Ah… just stand over there, why don't you, J'mi," she offers, to the bronzer who's following her. He does, leaning casually against his dragon to conceal the series of bundles nearby. And, absolved for the moment of most of her duties - the Wing flew largely unscathed, save char burns and a minor score or two - she sidles up to the director of the day's festivities. "Hey, sweetie. Ready for everything?"

Urzketh drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.

"Drinking klah?" D'renn offers innocently, holding the mug out to the mother of his children. "Fall alright, dear?" Presumably he means Threadfall rather than the way she dismounted. "Graduations are fun, aren't they?"

Urzketh's sapphire-black tail-tip twitches a moment as he watches Fyria slither down from herself seat between his amethyst-infused neckridges.

Fiareth drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.

Lylia slips off Druseth's neck, offering a fond pat and a murmur for the brown to go rest. Poor baby. A suspicious bag follows, clutched tightly as the weyrlingmaster looks a bit worse for wear. But look! The weyrlings are on /time/ for once. How lovely. "Ahhhh," she mutters, a little grin touching her lips. And Quara's presence definitely relaxes her. Leaning against the bluerider, she gives a little nod. "Uh-huh. I think so." Sniffle. "They grow up so /fast/."

With much weariness, Ike dismounts Ram and shifts, glancing back at Trajan. He stares at the assembled weyrlings with a furrowed brow, pondering what the /shell/ is going on.

Trajan hops down after Sii'kyn, not looking /particularly/ pleased. Nope. Ike should be /resting/, not running about now. Nope. Bedrest. Rest in bed. Let the bakerlet play nurse! Still though, he follows, looking around with slight curiousity. Hm.

Surely not /all/ D'renn's children came from Lis' star-crossed loins. "The usual," the greenrider replies with a shrug. "No undue injury. And I had time to wash up, even." She'll try not to preen too much. "Graduations certainly are… something else." She'll leave it at that, waving to Lylia and Quara across the way.

Wyn, now looking meticulously scrubbed and even smelling faintly of a trace of perfume instead of phosphine, is leaning against Vorkoroth's more-meticulously-still scrubbed foreleg, careful even in her apparent casual distance not to muss the creases of a freshly-laundered uniform. "Ike!" she calls over, spotting a wingmate. "How's the shoulder?"

Rana slides from Byndareths neck, gloved hand patting the browns neck. The only season that doesn't deserve gloves is summer, end of story. Fellow weyrlings are greeting with a wave and a quick grin as she joins the group. "Hey Ike. You doin' alright?" She asks the arriving brownling, leaning against Byndareths caramel-kissed hide.

Hiza swishes, and swivels, and eyes all the males(and a few of the females) in sight, while her /lovely/ lifemate proceeds to croon. Oh dear. Well, at least Hiza's not one of the broody proodies or the extremely forward ones. It's just that she's moving like she's got /one/ thing on her mind. "Oh, it's time, isn't it? Then they'll be full-fledged…" Giggle. Who is she talking to, anyway? She certainly doesn't have Zi' with her..

Sinead slips out from the guards barracks, having heard the beginning of some noise, and, as a guard, was curious as to it's origin. Therefore the guard slipped out, only to find teh congregation of several riders and Weyrlings too, this must be the graduation.

D'renn stops looking at the weyrlings, and looks Lis up and down. "Nice dress…." he remarks, with a beam of blue eyes. But, well, it's graduation. He must pay attention.

Sii'kyn snags Trajan's wrist, and wanders to Wyn's side, patting Vor companionishly. "Shoulder's good, I'm fine," he replies to both Rana and Wyn, before gazing at the congregating riders. "What's goin' on?" You see, Ram didn't tell him. Sniff.

Fiareth drops a foreleg, craning neck to watch E'an dismount.

Trajan hurries along with Sii'kyn, staying with the brownling as he waves his free fingers at Wyn just a bit. He nods though, at Ike's question, peeking at the blueling curiously. Maybe she knows? Yes? Hopefully?

Quara makes a good person to lean against. Much experience, even if the preliminary such was working with those who were inebriated and in need of an escort. She's moved on to bigger and (much!) better things. "Of course they do, love. It wasn't that long ago /we/ were graduating, really." She gets lost in recollection for a moment, and then blinks. "Which reminds me. D'renn almost forgot me. That was very not-nice. Don't forget anyone, okay?" She pauses to glare at the ex-weyrlingmaster, and then wraps an arm comfortably around the brownrider.

"Thank you." Lis' effort in dressing up has not gone all to waste. Smirking contentedly, the greenrider scans the weyrlings over the rim of her klah mug and wonders, "Who d'you think they'll tap for Zephyr?"

Vorkoroth whuffs tolerantly at Sii'kyn as Wyn glances up from her leaning to nod approvingly at the shoulder, and offer that "It's Graduation-time Sii'kyn. Uniforms, spit-and-polish, and the sounds of Lylia yodeling for joy as we are finally taken off her hands."

Fyria is utterly exhausted - yet utterly ecstatic at the same time. An interesting mix of emotions, as evident by her expression. With well-practiced ease, she slides from her beloved lifemate's hide, Urzketh giving her an equally excited whuffle as her feet hit the ground in a cloud of dust. New boots, new leathers, and an equally new (or rather clean) Fyria glances around excitedly as she joins the other members of Maelstrom wing with a huge, huge grin. "Guys - we've /done/ it!"

E'an sighs - dismounting from Fiareth sure does take a lot of his precious energy. "Now, shoo," he tells the dragon, "Go find some bronze to flirt with. ..What's that? Oh? You say they're all /here/? Well, it sure doesn't look like Pern's supply of dragons to me. Go off to Telgar or somewhere!" E'an's not very nice to his dragon, but of course she doesn't mind. Or anything. Giving a heavy sigh, he walks into the crowd, pushing his way through. Shouldst anyone accidentally push into him, though, he blows up. "EXCUSE ME! WHAT IN THE NAME OF PERN ARE YOU DOING? DON'T TOUCH ME!!" Nicely said, and E'an then shoves the person back in the direction they came from. Huff. "Goodness! Nothing's changed, the people at High Reaches are still as cruel as usual." Hugging his jacket around him, he wanders through the people, looking for somewhere to stand/sit. "Dirty peasants.. what are you doing here, anyway? Oh, really? Your precious daughter is here? Well screw her!" E'an's not in a good mood today.

D'renn taps his nose. "Can't say who Zephyr's getting yet, Lis dear…" He catches Quara's glare, and abandons all weyrsecond dignity to stick his tongue out at her.

Rana arches a brow at Sii'kyn, nice and surprised at his lack of information. "Us. All. Graduate. Now." She says succinctly, gesturing to the grouping weyrlings. Anymore questions? "Hey Fy." She greets Maelstorms newly arrived wingleader, a grin growing on her face. "Unbelievable, isn't it?"

Lylia likes her leaning post. Greatly. But it's time to go forth. "It /was/ long ago. We're /old/. And /gray/." But still randy! Mrow! Snuggling up against her weyrmate, she offers a little sigh and a nod. "I won't, I won't. Well. Except maybe Fyria." That one's allowed. "Okay, well, guess it's time to get this show started." Slinking forth, the rider makes her way to the front of the group, giving a wink at Lis and D'renn. The rider clears her throat, facing the group with a deep desire for much, much wine. "Good day, everyone! Today, we celebrate the graduation of Maelstrom Wing!" The thorn in her bloody side.

Lis looks up at D'renn - though not that far up; she's got heels on today - and wheedles faintly, "Just one name? There should be /some/ benefits to being weyrmated to you." Cheeky. The klah is brought to her lips again as she shivers faintly in the not-quite-summer weather. Time to shut up and watch Lylia, anyhow.

G'deon wanders in from the general direction of the caverns, and likely the baths if judging by the highly damp mop of blonde hair. But he's clean, dressed in spiffy clothes, and grinning like an idiot.

The short, stocky middleaged man in Benden Weyr colours that E'an's bumped into gives a bemused harrumph and shakes his head, a smirk touching still-regally-handsome (In his opinion) features. "Aye, that's right, that /is/ my daughter over there. Weyrling wingsecond too. Wyn!!" he bellows cheerily, waving to the weyrling in question. Yep. M'ral is in the building.

Hiza would get all twitchy-like if she noticed E'an, but there's Fyria, and she wants to mingle over there, she does. So she does thata way, her little Hiza-hips swaying just a bit. "Ooooh, lovely weyrlings! Are you excited? I'm excited." Obviously. Issryuith has found someone to whuffle at, and ooo… Hiza should go stand somewhere and look official, shouldn't she? She's the Missing AWLM, after all. And it's Gid! Oh dear. Too many people to talk to, and aren't they all /nice/ looking?

Sii'kyn stares at Wyn. "Graduation?" He stares at Fyria for a moment, and then grins suddenly at a familiar bellow. He turns to the crowds, searching out his favorite (insane) greenrider from Ista. E'an's waved at, before he returns to staring. "Gah. Graduation." Bleary blink. He should be happier, but when you've just gotten scored… "Graduation," he continues, with a puzzled look settling on his brow. "Hey, isn't that your da, Wyn? And - hey, that's F'ree!"

D'renn chuckles, sliding an arm round Lis's waist to tug her closer to the front of the group, and Lylia - who he gives a beaming smile. "G'luck," he mouths at the Weyrlingmaster - she is a novice, after all, for all the knots she's helped him hand out in the past.

Yep, F'ree is in the building, shouldering past E'an to park himself next to M'ral. "Hey, isn't this a familiar scene?" he grins, lightly staring at poor, scored Sii'kyn. "Poor Sii'kyn. I remember my first 'score…" He shakes his head. "Look at that. They're growin' up /so/ fast.." Sniffle.

Quara is, by contrast, extremely dignified. Just ignore that very rude gesture she made behind Lylia's back. It was out of sight of most spectators' immediate vision, anyhow. "Hey! I'm not gray." She's indignant. But then she blows her darling a kiss, taking a few steps back to join the throng, and views. Just as does everyone else Lylia has ever known. Good thing she doesn't have to sing.

Trajan smiles faintly at that, simply shaking his head a bit. Well..okay, so the bakerlet /still/ thinks Sii'kyn should be resting, and not wandering around. But hey, if it's graduation..exceptions can be made. The bakerlet squeezes Sii'kyn's hand a moment before letting go, stepping back to let him mingle and get on with the whole cerimony type stuff. Yep. He'll watch.

"I love you too, Weyrlingmaster," Fyria retorts with a wry grin towards Lylia. She offers a quick brown-eyed wink before settling her gaze on the massive crowd gathered in the Central Bowl. People. Everywhere. She gives an excited wave to G'deon, another towards E'an along with a mouthed 'We'll talk later,' before turning to stand with her wing. "Graduation. Full, official wingriders." FAranth help the Reaches.

"Graduation," assures Wyn to Ike with a little smile, lowering her tone as Lylia starts the spectacle. Although the petite bluerider does manage to give a quick little wave to her father. And one for F'ree, too, just 'cause he's standing nearby and she knows him. "Faranth… that was fast." she murmurs.

Urzketh simply looks smug behind his lifemate. His wing. /Their/ wing. Soon. Weyrlings no longer. Another soft trumpet of excitement is uttered before he flips his wings quickly in a flash of amethyst-laced blue.

G'deon seems quite content to just hang around in the background for now, though he does return a few waves here and there, and shares some quiet comments with a couple of the nearby riders and weyrfolk as they wander past. But mostly he's just here to watch. After all, he promised he'd show up, and a gentleman never falls back on his word.

Sii'kyn drops his head to mutter to Wyn, "Way too fast," in agreement. He waves to M'ral and F'ree, too, as Ram rumbles behind Vor, shifting to angle himself so his big head can drape next to Ike. "Wonder who'll be first," he idly blink.

Lis is duly claimed by D'renn, not complaining about front row seats he manges to wrangle, either. "Hooray, Lylia!" she exclaims in a sudden burble of joy, unable to wait for someone else to cheer for.

"Just a tetch," allows M'ral to F'ree with another friendly smirk, leaning comfortably against the sturdy brown bulk of Bneth to ease some of the strain on his feet. "Eh, looks to be a minor one though, fortunately. Good way to learn, if a trifle painful at the time."

Diulnyth clickpurrs, a satisfied rumble from the depths of his narrow, tux-patterned chest. Eyes languidly hooded by sable 'lids, he spares a peer at his daydreaming(and..ahem. NPC, for now) 'Rider.

"I know you love me, Fyria." Blueriders do that. A wink in the 'ling's direction, and Lylia resumes her oh-so-official stance. She'll need the luck, indeed, and casts another glance at D'renn'n'Lis. Mostly because they're more pleasant to look at than some of the weyrlings. "It's been a long time since they first walked off the sands with their new lifemates, but they've gone from those early infant days to being true riders. Today we fought Threadfall, and with few injuries," a nod given towards Sii'kyn, "They made it through, proving that they have the skills and resourcefulness needed to be full riders. I know I and the rest of the weyrlingmaster staff is /very/ proud of them. And I hope they are, too."

E'an waves to various people, with a nod Fyria-wards, and then continues waving, and geeting, until that 'dirty peasant' talks back to E'an. Suddenly, the greenrider puffs up and starts huffing exasperantly. "Oh… my… goodness! Did you just talk back to me?" E'an starts huffing and puffing and making no real words, just general angry sounds. "How dare you talk back to me! Do you know who I am? Do you even know who I am? I could be the Weyrleader of Ista, or this very Weyr, for all you know and you'd still talk to me!" E'an starts waving his arms around (more like flapping) and just pointing around in different directions. "You, sir, have insulted me!"

<Local> Trydanth senses that Issryuith shimmers all golden and pretty, with an undercurrent of purr. « Graduation time. »

<Local> Trydanth senses that Sidramuntalath responds to the golden goddess of greenhood with an array of beautiful, hot reds and deep blacks. « Yes… graduation. »

<Local> Trydanth senses that he seems almost jealous, shivering with lightning trails. « All grown up. » And nothing to do with him this time.

Quara really prefers her role as spectator. Just one in the horde… heck, it's a crowd big enough to make Woodstock look like a small group. (Okay, it's not, but there's even a J'mi and Hendrixth there.) And she's waiting to get drunk, see. It's rather poor form to watch one's hand twitch while one's weyrmate is giving speeches and presenting knots.

<Local> Trydanth senses that Alymath curls her wings around the weyrlings like a protective mama-hug. Just don't let Chayath catch her.

<Local> Trydanth senses that Urzketh rolls a low, steady roil of velvety darkness still laced with the faint fire-tinged traces of fighting Thread. Graduation. « We have come full circle. Be proud, Maelstrom! »

<Local> Trydanth senses that Fiareth whistles across the minds of the dragons locally located, and sends greetings of, « Ista sends its greetings to all of you. » A pause. « And especially to you, Urzketh; and you, Sidramuntalath. And.. well, any of you other bronzes or browns or blues or.. whatever. »

Sii'kyn bows his head into a respectful nod in return to Lylia's nod. F'ree is glanced at, as is M'ral and E'an. "If they get into a fight, I'm not splitting them up," he idly mutters to Wyn.

Nylca appears from the dust-filled pens.

<Local> Trydanth senses that Vorkoroth adds in a wisp of classic black, sparked with a touch of sapphire, a warm baritone replying «Graduation indeed.» with touches of pride in his wingmates and their riders.

<Local> Trydanth senses that Alymath she hugs everyone else, except for Vorkoroth. She doesn't like that one.

<Local> Trydanth senses that Druseth is sad. Sniffle. Brooding blues trail over soft, tenor words. « You have grown up far too fast, my children. But I am proud. Very proud. » Aww. Big papa's saaad.

Trajan simply remains quiet, shuffling his feet just a bit, but still watching, smiling faintly.

Wyn rolls a shoulder. "Oh, Da won't let it get that far," she offers with quiet reassurance. "Just watch though… it might offer some mild amusement." If you're Wyn, at least. Straightening, she adjusts the fit of her uniform collar.

<Local> Trydanth senses that Sidramuntalath rumblepurrs something grey and silver at Alymath and most especially Fiareth, before Druseth gets a stunning bolt of blood and shadows; fitting, of course - into the mindlink. « I am proud to have made you proud, Sire, » he replies, silver lining his bass rumble.

Saein blinks in from ::between:: in flurry of sapphire and silver wings, announcing his presence with a whistle.

Nylca bounds in, and over to a favorite spot on the bowl floor, spreading out ablanket, and some goodies to munch on as she enjoys the good day. Wait..people? Weyrlings? Hmm what's happening here? Better watch and find out. So, happily munching a cookie and sipping some klah, Nylca settles down to watch the celebration.

M'ral just shakes his head slightly, regarding the puffed up greenrider with a touch of sardonic amusement. "Easy there, lad," drawls the older rider, Benden accent oozing warm unconcern. "Keep that up and you'll sprain something."

Cera walks in.

F'ree snickers some sardonic add-on to M'ral's comment, before turning his gaze to the procession going on. Hmm.

"You know, you'd think if you'd come to visit for a graduation you'd be better behaved," Lis comments shrewishly of E'an; quietly, too, but not so quiet that those standing around her wouldn't be able to hear it. "Those Istasn greenriders…" Because, you know, the ones are here are perfectly well-behaved…

Jamvolio shines a vigorous emerald, a wisp of cold air followed with the blunt return from ::between::!

Rana is all quiet, keeping her attention on Lylia. If there's anything she's learned over the past two turns it's when the Weyrlingmaster talks, everyone else is supposed to shut up and listen. But between the nerves of this, on top of Fall, she still fidgets in place. Fidget. Shift.

Ralos walks in.

<Local> Trydanth senses that Issryuith is fond of this group of weyrlings, particularally the male ones.. particularally right now, and so burbles prettily, « I'm delighted you've all grown up so well. I doubt we'll have another Clutch of such … lovely… dragons. » Purr, with special whisps of a salty mist to curl around the male-dragon minds.

Trajan looks around, and after a few moments finds a place to settle himself, sighing softly. Still, he smiles though, keeping his gaze directed on Sii'kyn.

Nylca rocks abit as she sits, munching a somewhat messy cookie. Honestly, you'd think she was 10, but nope, she's very much adult, just..not acting it. But Nylca does sit quietly, facinated that the weyrlings she watched Impress, are about to become real riders. Aww, how sad.

D'renn heard Lis perfectly, and half-turns to give E'an a hard stare. "They can't help themselves, Lis-love," he mutters. "Some of them just weren't brought up properly…" And he turns back to pay attention to Lylia.

"Now… Maelstrom Wing has finally come to their time to join the wings. And I wish them the best." And will still find ways to punish them. A lot. Lylia gives a little giggle, glancing over the group as she fishes in the small, dark blue bag she clutches. "Weyrling Wingleader Fyria! Come forward!" Give up the tassels and nobody gets hurt.

<Local> Trydanth senses that Vorkoroth is ignored by Alymath? He's crushed! How will he live, knowing that he'll never get to be one of the many, many notches on the edge of her couch!?! Ahem. In other words, he actually didn't notice, too intent on watching the scene at hand. Issryuith is given a sweep of a mental bow. «Indeed… I believe that it must have been /your/ clutch, milady that was the last to compare. And you far exceed them all.» But then a mental poke from Wyn has him reining himself in again.

Nylca grins as Fyria is called. She didn't know her that well, but she did know her by name, and so, she was entited to a grin, and a little wave- like anyone noticed. She tucked her knees to her chin, cookie, and klah, utterly forgotten at this moment. This was much to important an event to worry about /food/.

<Local> Trydanth senses that Diulnyth sidles in a blunt radiation of steels and blues, the idle commentary of « 'S'about time… » ..it drifts into wisps of smoke, entangling themselves coquettishly in Issryuith's salty mists.

G'deon gives a pleased smile as Fyria's name is called, but doesn't start clapping just yet. He can wait until all the 'lings have their new knots. Until then his proud-papa beaming smiles will just have to do.

Kodisan walks in.

Fyria abruptly cuts her laugh off as she hears her name called, giving her fellow wingmates a slow, knowing wink. "Here we go, guys!" she whispers with obvious excitement. Spinning on a heel, she smooths down the hem of her jacket with evident pride and takes slow, purposeful steps forward to stand before Lylia and the others. "Yes Weyrlingmaster!" she says, giving her the proper salute. And a quick wink.

Lis was brought up properly, until she came here. (And look what happened to her, then.) "Yay! Fyria!" she cheers merrily; the fact that it's shrilly and in close proximity to D'renn's ear is, however, unfortunate.

Wyn applauds, not as loud as some, and not as enthusiastically as others, but as loudly and enthusiastically as a Wyn can manage. "Fyria! Oh, well done!"

Sinead offers a bright grin to her friend as her name is called. WEE! It's Fyria's turn, jump for joy, all.

Hiza gives a delighted little squee as the knot-handing out begins, finding somewhere to hover and oogle people. Yes, the midget greenrider is in an oogling mood, and has shimmied up next to some poor younger lad, who occasionally gets a flutter of eyelashes. Just imagine, there'll be wine later, too. "They all look so grown-up." Sniffle. At last, a non-proddy comment.

Sii'kyn straightens, suddenly, as Ram says something; he glances down at himself, and then turns and glares at the suddenly insane brown. "You moron," he mutters, shoving at the brown's head with a fair bit of amusement and sheepishness. Fyria's watched, with a wry grin. "Aw, they aren't letting her get the suspense of last time, waiting until the very end of it to give her a knot." He'll wait /until/ the knot's given to applaud. He knows how evil Lylia is.

You always hurt the ones you love. That's a saying Quara has little faith in, thankfully, seeing as she has no interest whatsoever in hurting Lylia… Not unless she asks nicely, that is. And she'd best not be planning to abused Fyria. Or care for her. Because she's a very posessive girl. And she doesn't appreciate that wink, you know.

D'renn winces at Lis's ear-drum-splitting schreech, and applauds Fyria enthusiastically.

"You've been a pain to me for a very, very long time. You've definitely earned what you're about to get." A glimpse of evil appears in Lylia's expression as she reaches into the bag, but when her hand comes out, it only offers a knot, the other hand offering a handshake. "You've led Maelstrom well. Congratulations, Wingrider Fyria."

Cera goes home.

Nylca yays and clamps for Fyria. "YAY!" she cheers - somewhat softly - for the ex-weyrling-now-wingrider. This was so weird, she decided Watching those she saw IMpress turn into real riders was just..weird! Hopefully their trouble making days are over - one can only hope!

Rana is so done with the quiet thing now. "Fyy!" She cheers for the weyrling wingleader, bouncing on her toes and clapping. "Yeah, Fy!" Is whooped out, and with a last hop, she's abruptly silent again. Random, sudden spurts of noise. Yep.

E'an shakes with anger at M'ral. "Grrr.. rrr…." At Fyria's name, he turns around starts clapping and cheering enthusiastically, then turns back around to M'ral. "Where was I? Oh, right. …Grrrr… rrrrrr… rah-hah-fah!" He eyes M'ral. "On any other occasion, I would fall to the ground lifeless. But /this/ is a proper ceremony, and no place for anyone such as the likes of you to come and disrupt! Imagine the nerve involved…" And E'an stalks off, looking for someone he knows. "Oh! There's a Lis…" He must contemplate visiting her.

Sii'kyn looks vaguely curious. No gags? Aww. That's disapoint- er. Cough. He applauds, with a sizable grin, at Fyria's promotion.

"Be nice to her now, Lylia!" D'renn calls out as Fyria's properly graduated.

Fyria's lips twitch with obvious amusement - of course she's been a pain to Lylia. That was her secret goal ever since Ciera Searched her so many, many sunrises ago. "I daresay, Weyrlingmaster - glad to see I've managed to make your life as interesting as possible. And…unforgettable." Without hesitation, she removes her weyrling wingleader's knot and hands it over, gladly taking the wingrider's not - and thrusting it upwards into the air with a shout! Ahem. Composure regained, she nods at Lylia and company. "THank you, Lylia!"

<Local> Trydanth senses that Issryuith spins a little whirlpool around Vorkoroth, replying, « Perhaps, but /all/ of your clutch is marvelous. » Not that Issryuith dislikes her clutchmates, but she shimmers mentally for a bit and then quiets, though that purr won't disappear. They have to remember she's here, after all.

<Local> Trydanth senses that Urzketh's mindthoughts whirl with enough pride to drown whatever minds it comes into contact with in a sudden swirl of blueberry-goodness, reminiscent of his hatchling days. « That's /my/ lifemate out there! » Smug mental grin.

Quara beams very proudly at her weyrmate and applauds. She was all polite and everything. And despite the interference… "Yay!" She cheers generically. And claps, a little. Gotta pretend to be cheerful for the little… rider.

"Istan greeners…" mutters M'ral to F'ree. "Hmm… think I could get him to have a seizure after the ceremony's over…?" he ponders idly. Apparently some of Wyn's oddness is genetic in origin. But then the old brownrider behaves himself, applauding and adding his own "Well done!" to the congratulations.

"You've /definitely/ made this clutch unforgettable, my dear," Lylia responds with a giggle. Very much so. Taking the knot with a somber nod, she sticks it back in her bag and gets the next knot. "Weyrling Wingsecond Wyn! Come forward!" Another tassel /will/ be hers!

Lis did indeed see that evil; she's quite content that she was left out of her and Quara's bizzare arrangement of living. Fara has two mommies. "Hooray, Wyn!" the greenrider whoops again, but luckily she's got the shreiking out of her system.

F'ree snickers. "Yes, we'll have to see if you could get him into seizure- GO, WYN!" F'ree cheers the petite bluerider. Hard. Party on, with the old-geezer bluerider.

<Local> Trydanth senses that Fiareth purrs at all the conversation. « And that's my rider right over- » Pause to watch E'an's antics from afar. « I mean… E'an isn't here. He's ill in Ista. Ah, well… »

Nylca grins as Wyn is next called. She knew her too, a little. Enough to give her a grin, and wave - again, no one notices, but that's ok

Blueriders unite, yeah. D'renn claps happily as Wyn's called, nudging Lis for no obvious reason.

Quara is Fara's only mommy. She does, however, have a super-neato Auntie Lylia. And it's time to applaud. Wyn didn't cause Lylia trouble. Wyn is good.

Sii'kyn applauds, this time. Yes. Wyn's probably one of his best friends, so clapping is required. And just wait until she comes back with shiny-shiny knot… TiredIke will be put on the back burners. Yep. Beam.

Rana perks back up as Wyn's called, "Wyyyn!" She cheers, applauding enthusiastically for the bluerider. More cheers. More loudness. At the rate she's going, she'll be one sore-throated brownie by the end of this.

Trajan still quietly watches, smiling just a bit brighter as Wyn is called. The bakerlet does indeed clap, lifting a hand to wave a bit for the blueling. "Yay Wyn!"

Vorkoroth noses a suddenly-reticent Wyn forward with a solid bunt of his nose, sending the slim little bluerider tottering forward for the first couple paces, ears pinking before she coughs, regains some of her immense dignity, and marches neatly towards Lylia and draws to a halt in full military parade stance. Vorkoroth rumbles in a pleased fashion. See? He taught her to do that.

Fyria chuckles quietly to herself as she turns, rejoining her clutchmates and giving Wyn a gentle nudge as she walks by. "Congrats, Wingsecond." Without further ado, she joins her beloved Urzketh to give him a quick peck on his muzzle. "Well done, love. /Well/ done." Urzketh is content. Urzketh would glow if he could - or, maybe not.

Lis wants to know the un-obvious reason then. "What?" she whispers over to D'renn, in the mean time decides, "/She'd/ be a good one for Zephyr. She's rowing with one oar in the water, but in a good way."

Kodisan walks to the Caverns.

D'renn develops an incredulous expression, which is turned on Lis. "Wyn? In Zephyr? I know we like blueriders, but there is a limit." Hopefully the newest rider can't hear him properly. "Take her for Tsunami."

"WYN!!! THERE'S MY GIRL!!!" That would be M'ral bellowing, of course, in full Proud Parent mode. If Pern had camcorders, he'd no doubt be busy getting in everyone's way, and embarassing his daughter horribly with his quest for the perfect angle. Bneth adds a bugle as well. Hey, he /raised/ her, y'know.

Indeed, Lylia thinks that Wyn is /very/ good, so she's most pleased right now. Lylia winks at Vorkoroth. He's been /very/ good for Wyn, yes. "You've done well, I'm very proud of you. The one breath of sanity in my day." Sane weyrlings are rare, indeed. Offering a handshake, she also offers a new toy: the knot. "Congratulations, Wingrider Wyn."

Nylca settles back to watch the cerenmony, taking a few moments to oogle at the dragons. /Big/ dragons! And she remembers when they were little things! Well, maybe not little, but certainly smaller than they are now! Ah, those were the days.

Quara is rowing on the other side of the ocean from Lis these days, but she's perfectly content with a certain brownrider. Better than /D'renn/ by far. Sexier. Younger. And willing to sleep with Qua, which certainly doesn't hurt her standing any. Speaking of which, she gets to continue applauding. Clap, clap, clap… she's got it down so her hands hardly even hurt at the end of the entire process.

Lis shakes her head at D'renn, eyes wide. "Oh, no. I don't want that one riding anywhere near me. Would you believe she had me down in the catacombs hunting up some half-dead feline. When I was supposed to be looking for your son." Eyes roll, though whether it's at Wyn's leisure-time activities or D'renn's influence in Donis…

D'renn shrugs a bit. "Donis is big enough to mind himself these days…" the doting father replies to the anxious mother. "Who's up next, anyhow?" he swiftly changes topic.

And when Wyn is good, she is very, very good, and when Wyn is bad, she is /frightening/. But now that we've got Longfellow spinning in his grave, we'll return to the scene. Wyn is indeed being good today, and so it's with a nod and a rare grin that Wyn accepts the handshake and swaps her old knot for the nice shiny new one. "Thank you," she intones with sincere please, before marching back to the rest of the wing. "Oh… don't mind the feline hairs on the old knot, eh?"
please/pleasure. Yah.

F'ree whoops as the knot is given; he leaves the hard cheering for Ike, but still - Wyn! The levelheaded influence on his boy. Beam. "She's going to be a good wingrider," he decides. "A very good one, at that."

Sii'kyn has disconnected.

Lis purses her lips, unsatisfied. But Donis will probably be stuck at six in her mind for the next few Turns. And no one is better than D'renn, in this greenrider's deluded little mind. (Lucky him.)

Gilde blinks in from ::between::!

Lylia glances down at the wingsecond knot, wrinkling her nose as she picks at a few hairs. Fun. "Weyrling Wingsecond Sii'kyn!" is barked, and the weyrlingmaster gives her fellow brownrider his new knot with a suggestive wink. Prowl. Next up, "Senior Weyrling Olia!" is called, and another knot exchanged. Then "Senior Weyrling Jiu!" and she has a pretty bluerider's knot to her collection. "Senior Weyrling S'titch!" Greeaaat. /This/ one.

D'renn claps. And claps. And starts to stamp feet instead as his hands hurt. "Can't you just see our brood up there someday, getting their knots?" he asks Lis wistfully.

Quara claps appropriately, with an appreciative gaze of her own on Sii'kyn for quite a bit. They do have the same taste, after all. S'why they're together. And the sooner this is over with, the sooner they can /be/ together. Preferably with some alcohol. Walk quickly, young ones.

Lis vacillates between parental pride and a sudden despair. "Faranth forbid I give birth to any greenriders," she sighs wistfully, then noting to D'renn: "Donis is almost old enough to stand. I'd like a bronzerider in the family…" At least, the family that hasn't disowed her.

"OOOOOOOooooOOOOOOhhhh!!" And S'titch does not disappoint, jumping up from his non-regulation-but-irritatingly-cute little huddle with Entymeth and sashaying up towards the front at the sound of his name. The amount of lace on his uniform seems to have grown exponentially, poofing about in the light breezes as he wiggles his way up towards Lylia. "OOh! Weylingmaster Lylia lovie! Thank you so, /so/ much!!!"

Rana continues to clap and cheer and make general noise for her fellow weyrlings as they get called up. "Ike! Oli! Jiu!" There's a hesitation before she calls, albeit half-heartedly, "S'titch…" Grimice. Scary little greenrider. With lace. Creepy.

"Well done, you kids! And you, Sii'kyn!!" is the decision of M'ral, toning down somewhat now that the star attraction, namely a certain bluerider named Wyn, has come and gone. S'titch… he's just going to pretend doesn't exist. Yep.

E'an eyes S'titch from wherever he is now - probably drinking wine next to some poor, random person. "Oh! Look at his outfit? Isn't it /cute/? I want one like that!"

"No greenriders like that…" D'renn agrees, looking at S'tich and then casting a glance back towards that hystrionic Istan offering. "And yes… a couple more Turns for Donis!" He claps a bit more, just for the look of it.

"Oh, well done, Ike, well done!!" Cue a little bit of hopping from Wyn. Repeat the process for Olia and Jiu. Change procedure to a polite clap and averted eyes for S'titch, although Vorkoroth exhorts her to cheer on Entymeth's account.

Imbriath drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.
Hyzen, glancing towards the ground far below, slips down the smooth hide of Imbriath and towards the ground with help of lifted paw.

Lis pouts faintly as D'renn maligns S'titch, commenting, "Well, I rather like him." Shame he climbs in the other side of the cot. "I don't think you'd want Cerise to end up like me, either." Now /that's/ some kind of Electra-like problem second only in inscestual tangles to Druseth's love life.

"Uh. Um. You're welcome." Lylia blinks. Hopefully, Donis won't turn out like that. Or Fara. Or anyone. One S'titch is enough. The new wingrider gets a little nod. Faranth help what wing /he/ goes to… "Senior Weyrling Tevya!" is next, and is given a knot with a genuine grin, followed by her call for "Senior Weyrling Zia!" and "Senior Weyrling Sage!", getting their knots with more or less decorum. "Senior Weyrling Lhana!" is next. She does like greenriders. "Senior Weyrling Rana, please come forward!" And she fishes out another knot from her dwindling pile.

Saein disappears ::between:: with a burst of sapphire and silver.

Rana continues to act all hyper: "Tevya! Zia! Sage! Lhana! R- " No, wait. Byndareth whuffles at her, and after a quick, surprised blink, she starts forward. Well /duh/. Quick steps bring her towards Lylia, general bounciness diminishing as she approaches the Weyrlingmaster. "Weyrlingmaster ma'am." She says briskly, saluting.

Quara's daughter is most likely to turn into something much scarier than S'titch, at the rate she's going: a miniature Pyrene. Only even less intelligent, if it's possible, by virtue of being a sheep. She does what the goldrider does, and doesn't even date who she wants to date. Not that she's dating at all, yet. Too young.

"Rana, dear. You've been simply /lovely/. You've earned this. Congratulations, Wingrider Rana." Lylia offers the knot with a light grin. Brownriders. She loves 'em. With all her little heart. And blueriders, too. Mrow. "You'll do well," she mumurs, giving a decisive little nod.

D'renn applauds Rana just as hard as he did for everyone else, whispering occasional comments to Lis, and bestowing happy smiles on everyone. There's a party afterwards, after all….

Wyn returns to her mild hopping. "Rana!" she calls, spared from being squeaky by the fortunate posession of an alto voice. "Congratulations!" The bluerider then ceases her hopping, and returns to watching the show, wincing again at S'titch's… excessive laciness, before murmuring to Ike "Which wing do you think will be stuck taking /him/?"

Quara claps cheerily. Every one that leaves is one less to go. And surely they're almost done now.

Rana gives over old knot for new, flashing Lylia a grin. "Thank you! Very much!" She says brightly, saluting a second time, before marching on back to where Byndareth is, leaning against the brown, "We did it Byn!" She exclaims quietly, grin pretty much permenantly etched on her face.

Sii'kyn shifts, grinning, applauding for Rana's knotting. He turns towards Wyn, and whispers, "No clue." Twitch. "Hopefully not the same one that will tap /me/. Or you." Shudder. Scary.

"Congratulations," Lylia nods, before scanning the crowd again, giving another few knots out to V'der and some of Druseth's other child. "Senior Weyrling Taesha! Come forward!" is her next call. Awww. Taesha.

Taesha steps up proudly, though not without looking towards the back of the crowd, where her parents are watching; dragons already laden up ready to go ::between:: to Southern. Her little sister Livia jumps up and down cheering as Taesha squares her shoulders and turns to Lylia with a smile.

Vespurath meanders in from the north.

Quara claps and cheers and sniffs just a little. Catia's /leaving/. Second injustice, compounding the fact that she resigned as wingsecond. But at least Taesha is here to carry on the legacy.

"Aww. Dear, I'll /definitely/ miss working with you." Lylia likes Taesha, yes she does. Sniffle. The weyrlingmaster hands over the knot with a little sniffle of regret. Sigh. "Congratulations, Wingrider Taesha." Another knot is given out, then another, then N'zgul and all the remaining children. Poking at the red lining, she finds… nothing. Sigh. "Well, seems that all my weyrlings have flown from me. Congratulations, wingriders! You're Maelstrom weyrlings no longer. Now… you're riders. I wish you all well. You've made it…" she pauses, "interesting. Yes. Now… Let's get into the caverns, get some wine, and celebrate!" Cheer. Time for the weyrlingmasters to get blitzed.

Sii'kyn whoops, whipping outback hat of his head and then up into the air. "Yeeeeeeeeeeehaw!" he bellows, in that perfect cowboy fashion. Yep. Once a cowboy, always a cowboy: but now, it's time to wrastle down some wine. He snags his hat as it comes down, plops it on his head, and looks suspiciously proud of himself. Must have been practicing /that/ move…

Taesha hastily fastens her new knot, and runs to say goodbyes to her family. But Catia and T'vim's other goodbyes have already been made - and after all, it's not as if they'll never be back - and green Myrineth and bronze Eldiath are quickly in the air and ::between::. Gone.

Kylaris steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

E'an apparently has already had his wine, whether he was supposed to or not, and has commissioned a poor, random person to be his guider. "What did they say? Is the graduation over? I couldn't hear properly."

D'renn applauds loudly again, pulling Lis to her feet. "Party time," he says suggestively, then lets go to wander round and congratulate new riders everywhere. And to console Taesha with a Zephyr knot.

Rana lets out the final cheer of the evening - though it's short. Her vocal chords can only take so much abuse. Sii'kyn and his oh-so-smooth cowboy stunts gets an amused glance, along with a grin. "We did it." She breathes, not for the first time, slumping against Byn.

Taesha's tears are wiped away, and she proudly fixes the Zephyr badge to her jacket - thankfully D'renn refrained from making her extract it from his trouser pocket.

Quara applauds appropriately, then promptly scoots up and loops an arm around Lylia. "Wonderful job, darling. Didn't forget anyone or anything. I'm so impressed." Bad pun, she knows. "Hoy, J'mi!" The bronzer comes over, looking all expectant. "A badge and a bottle, would you?" Inferno has some traditions, and… "Darling, I'll just be a moment.

D'renn whistles cheerfully to himself - time for the wine. And off to host a party he goes.

Now Lylia slinks to go mourn near her weyrmate. And probably skulk around a few of 'em to see if there's any for the wing. Mrow. "Thanks, Qua-love. I really tried. Almost forgot S'titch, but figured that would be a /little/ mean…" Just a little. "A bottle? Are you getting /me/ some wine, oh-love-of-mine?" Tweep. Beam. Forget Druseth's remarks in her head about drunken weyrlingmasters dancing on tables being inappropriate.

Sii'kyn slings his arm about V'der's neck in companionship, and the two browners share a rare compatriot smile; the browners head for the Living Caverns. "We need wine! We need dancing girls! We need alcohol!" They twang these thoughts as one, rip out some laughter, and head for the 'caverns. Everyone.. follow. Yes.
Sii'kyn strides purposely to the Caverns.
E'an squees to the Caverns.

Trajan walks to the Caverns.

Hyzen meekly steps to the Caverns.

Rana rolls her eyes at V'der and Ike, "Men." She snorts, before heading for the caverns, falling into conversation with another of the newly graduated.
Rana walks to the Caverns.

Quara will be a dancing girl soon enough, but she's got this minor thing to take care of. "N'zgul! C'mere." She throws him her most flirtatious yet meaningless smile. "Thought I might give you a head start for this evening's festivities." As witness the bottle of Benden she's presenting, fresh from J'mi's cache. "Here you are. Finely aged. Use it well… And, oh, here." Almost as an afterthought, the Inferno badge gets passed along, too. "Now go off and have some fun, there's a lad." Well, she's not phased by him, is she?

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