Fort Weyr - Living Caverns
This cavern, having been created by bubbles in the volcanic flow of this extinct volcano, has a breathtaking ceiling — a vast dome that arches high above the heads of the weyrfolk that scurry around beneath it. A hollow echo can be heard from loud enough noises, and the chatterings of various firelizards are consequently multiplied into a chaotic babble. All in all, the living cavern is a loud place.
Tables are scattered around the room, apparently in no particular order. Over to one side near the kitchens, two medium sized serving tables are constantly spread with snacks, klah, and other goodies. The tables look worn, yet perfectly fitted to the atmosphere of the caverns. In the 'corners' of the cavern, smaller two and four place tables are set up for more private talks or just a less chaotic atmosphere in which to eat.

It's a whole day after the gold flight. Well, not quite. A whole day as in the length of time from dawn till dusk. With Rhenesath having taken off in the early morning hours, it's now late at night. It's far enough after supper that the hustle and bustle has died down and pretty much everyone has retired for their evening of chores, privacy or being anywhere else but where everyone else is. For some, it's been a long day and now bed is beckoning. The only remaining hold outs are a few chatting people or servants who prepared the meals and are only just now getting to eat them.

In one corner of the living cavern, in a semi-private alcove is a man with tattered clothes. His hair is uncombed and his clothes are askew and he's surrounded by the remains of a dozen glasses and two bottles. He's also face down in the table. When a serving girl approaches the table he waves her off with his left hand indicating that he's conscious at least, but the table is just a convinenent surface right now.

Compared to the dragonriders blessed with large male dragons, Lucy's had a pretty easy time of it today and looks well-rested and cheerful. Out in search of a late night snack, the greenrider approaches one of the serving tables and begins picking over what's offered, casting a couple of sidelong glances at the obviously inebriated man in the corner. Despite the rampant curiousity, chances are good she knows who he is via the dragon gossip network.

S'yu gives a brief little sigh. He's still embarrassed after the flight, the hold bred rider still gets flustered over the effects of amours dragons, but he's at least accepted it. After all Bhal appears to have a fondness for chasing after golden scales, and those seem to be the most intense emotions he's ever felt. He's washed, cleaned, and groomed, his long hair let loose, the black, knee length hair from the pretty boy swishes as he goes to find food and drink. Powerfully hungry now.

Flights are good for bringing (most) of the Weyr to a standstill. Somethings do have to go on, however, and the Weyrleader has been busy once recovered from the flight. Of course Velokraeth chased and lost (thank Faranth), the pale bronze not at all ruffled by it — he's got a clutch secured with Kayeth, after all. Ask him, and he'll just quip that he was being nice and not greedy. Th'ero's just glad not to have that headache on top of the other headaches plaguing him since reclaiming his position (the proper way). It's not entirely a surprise that he's here this late. Most know the bronzerider has always disliked being in the caverns when they're packed. Too much opportunity for folks to find him and he barely get a moment of respite, let alone to enjoy any food or drink. Other matters have kept him busy but here's here now — and joining Lucy in the curiosity of that man in the tattered clothes in the corner. Hmm. "Evening, Lucy." Th'ero greets her politely with a slight tilt of his head before moving onwards. S'yu is likewise greeted, but the Weyrleader is on a 'mission'. It'd be strange if he didn't at least investigate. Stupid knot. Approaching Ashwin's table, he'll wait a moment to see if the man acknowledges him first or if a low spoken: "Evening." is required to prompt him.

S'yu's course is going to have to take him by Ashwin's alcove. A slightly comes from the head-down man. "Would you mind sending the serving girl back here? I'm out and need a refill before I start to feel what I've already drank." At no point does he actually lift his head and someone might realize he knows someone is there by sound . . and by the green firelizard that is wrapped around one of the bottles and looking directly at S'yu and then Th'ero as he approaches. She has her hackles up in an almost common look of defending her drunken master.

A muttered 'muck smakes' or something like that slides involuntarily out of Ashwin's mouth as the green sends him pictures of the knot. Slowly he gets one arm under him. Then the other. A labor intensive process like a barn being raised he pushes himself to a sitting position. Then to a standing position and rocking slightly from side to side offers Th'ero his hand. "Weyrleader. Brownrider Ashwin. I guess I'm drinking your poison for awhile until the eggs get shelled."

"Evening," Lucy replies to the thank-Faranth-Weyrleader with a quirk of a smile before popping a piece of roll in her mouth while still at the table. She crinkles her nose slightly on finding said roll slightly stale, but hangs on to it anyway. After adding a mug of klah, she shamelessly tails Th'ero to Ashwin's table. Lacking an impressive knot, she introduces herself to the inebriated man, clearly amused. "I'm Lucy, rider of green Hallenayth. Welcome to Fort."

S'yu bows politely to the other Bronzerider, bearing a rank knot. For the most part the young man is really intent on finding food! Prehaps a little wine or beer too. He blinks at the question given to him, "Ah, well, ah, I think prehaps you've had a good deal of drink, prehaps it's a good time to sleep it off…" he offers in gentle denial. His voice is soft, his knot is from Monaco Bay. He blinks, "Ah, Ashwin, your Rinxyth, right." he nods and tilts his head, somewhat confused by his current state. "And I am S'yu, with Brown Bhaltairth, uh, from Monaco Bay." The pretty Asian suddenly blushes, realizing he's a bit out of place.

Th'ero gives the green firelizard only a fleeting look, his attention focused more on her master than her defensive display. Of course, he keeps his hands to himself and at the moment they are resting at his sides. A brow quirks at the muttered words, having missed Ashwin's request for more alcohol. So the man does live! Though not for long if he ends up toppling over and cracking his skull. So he won't hesitate in taking Ashwin's hand, but he'll also guide the brownrider back to his seat in a subtle sort of motion before letting go of the brownrider's hand.. No need for the formalities. "If you'd been drinking my specific poison, Ashwin, you'd be a lot worse off." A ghost of a smile follows but he may not be entirely joking. "Th'ero, by the way. I don't expect my own riders to always use my title, I'm not about to impose it on you." He'll skip the welcoming, as Lucy does well enough in that regard. No need to echo it or overtake S'yu's own greeting.

Ashwin blinks and squints. Everything is so hazy. If it wasn't for his demolished outfit and hair though, or the swaying he'd do a fine job of maintaining. Well, until he looks almost confused as he's guided back to the seat. "I can't tell if you are implying I'd be on my back from the drink or otherwise, but it probably doesn't matter because the end is the same." Th'ero will let go his hand at which point he slides right off of the seat and almost onto the floor but catches himself nimbly and stands up again as though he intended to do that.

Carefully, concentrating, each step in front of the next he retrieves a bottle himself and then sits down. "I appreciate the concern." For all that he's obviously drank? There is no lisp or slurr at all. And this is to the Asian looking fellow. "But I'm good. Rinxyth's, yes." He suddenly seems to sober a tiny bit, eyes seeming less glassy. "How many of you were in that mess? I'm truly sorry if Rinxyth bit you. Or I bit you." He looks pecularialy distraut about that thought, and suddenly really, really, really uncomfortable. "Lucy." He says, finally to acknowledge her. "This isn't one of my good days, I promise I'm more together than this." Of course, he'll apologize to the lady and none of the men for his condition.

"I'd say welcome to you too," Lucy tells S'yu with a slightly pointy grin, "but you get to leave." That probably doesn't make Ashwin feel better. Maybe the fact that /she/ summons the serving girl back will. Moar booze! With a headshake the greenrder reassures, "No worries. No one's put together on flight days." Except her maybe, but she won't point it out more than she already has.

S'yu ohs, "Well um…yes, Bhaltairth tried, he nearly had in her a dive, but she flew strong." he coughs some, "And no, I don't think I have too many bites." his cheeks flush from pink to a redder shade. He wonders who did leave that mark? Ahem, anyway he just bobs his head a bit, "However, bathed now, and refresh, but starving, I figured there would still be a stew on the pot free to take?" he asks.

"I'll leave it to you to decide what was implied," Th'ero drawls in a voice that remains low and difficult to pinpoint on tone. It doesn't help that his expressions are well schooled, honed to a mask. Some who deal with him consider him cold, most know he's just a stick in the mud most days but can actually be half-way decent to talk to once he relaxes. He will watch Ashwin closely though, his eyes following the brownrider when he gets up to serve himself. The Weyrleader says nothing but he does take a seat at the very table Ashwin claimed should an empty chair be available. If he doesn't like it? Too bad. "Velokraeth chased," he notes and from the smirk that curves his lips, that doesn't seem a surprise at all. "No bites." He'll frown at that though. Is there something he missed? How nice of Lucy to summon that serving girl and he'll tag his order in with anyone else. "You're welcome to help yourself to any of the food here, S'yu." Th'ero murmurs as he glances sidelong to the other brownrider.

"Rinxyth is an ass hole." Ashwin explains to nobody, really. Is Th'ero or anyone actually listening to him? "He's got to be the most strong willed dragon on Pern. I can keep him right up until he bloods and after that, there's no stopping it. It's not that I'm f*d up on flight days, every single time it's like going twelve rounds with someone five times stronger than you in mind and body. And I got a bunch of other s*t and baggage." With that apology to nobody having been done, he's able to open the new bottle. The Weyrleader's joining him makes his eyes quirk but he doesn't protest. "You two might as well come too." Since everyone is inviting themselves, he might as well invite them. He thinks it at least and doesn't say it.

"I kinda envy you people. Put together, composed, everything great."

Lucy was totally going to invite herself but it's nice for it to be official. She plops into a seat at the drinkin' table and adds in a beer order when she gets the chance. "Hally and I miss all the fun," she says, making arrangements on her snack plate. "Comes with the territory though, doesn't it? Males want to chase. Never heard of one that took kindly to being asked not to." Ashwin's comment on put-togetheredness Weyr-wise does make the young woman lean back a little and eye the brownrider with a hint of surprise.

S'yu nods, "I thank you Th'ero." he says with a smile. "I think I will have ah, whatever it is that is hot and warm tonight." he says with a grin to the serving woman! Need to fill his stomach. He blinks, very lightly at Ashwin, and looks to the other riders, not quite sure how to respond to that…"And a beer." he adds to the serving girl.

Th'ero is listening. It's a side effect of his position and kind of expected. His interest is certainly piqued in Ashwin now but probably NOT for the reasons the brownrider wants. "Flights affect all in different ways," he says carefully as if trying the neutral approach first. Lucy goes about it so much better, thankfully! There's a dry snort, almost chuckle. "I've been a rider too long to be ruffled by flights. Velokraeth's appetites are… voracious. He loses more than he wins, green and gold, and part of me is relieved he did not catch this time. New blood is better." Sorry Ashwin, that it had to be your brown? To S'yu, he adds: "Most likely a stew but if you don't find something, you could try to request something of the kitchens."

"I would have preferred to lose this one. And the last one. And the one before that. And the one before that. There's nothing on Pern that I detest as much as a flight." All of the alcohol that Ashwin has consumed must be making him bitter because his tone there is overflowing with it. But, people are sitting down now and it isn't just an inquisitive weyrleader wanting to feel him out so he forces himself to be friendly. The bitterness slips from his voice in a second as does the narrowed eyed, brain-fatigued look of the exhausted. His face just speaks of a calm not-welcomness, but not-bristliness either. He just is. Only the smell of him betrays him for drunk. Well, and the dozen glasses that sit around him.

"Anyway. I'll be fine. Today is a day to commisserate and hurt, tomorrow is business. I intend to stay for the clutch and be a part of the proceedings as tradition dictates. It's my first, to be sure, but I'll not be the Ashwin that runs from responsability." Anymore. "Soon as I sleep this off, I'll get my s—t from Xanadu and report to one of your wingleaders for duty."

Ashwin is sitting at a glass covered — at least a dozen — table with Th'ero and Lucy, S'yu appears to be hunting for food. The brownrider looks like hell. His hair and clothes are a mess.

Abigail is making her way into the caverns having just gotten back fromsweeps from the look of it. Her gloves are getting tucked into her jacket and she rubs at her hands a few times to get her fingers moving. She hears plenty of talk about the last flight, knowing very well the outcome of that seeing how Niumdreoth made it a point to take part in it, he was not a happy dragon for a bit there after the fact, but the brown is off relaxing on a ledge right now.

Picking over a sliver of sweet on her plate, Lucy snorts softly. Those who knew her pre-Hallenayth might chalk it up to a pasty afficiando's disappointment in the tart, but she adds (tartly?), "At least there /is/ the possibility you'll 'lose'" with air-quotes. Also, this tart is disappointing; she abandons it on the tabletop by the plate, then notices Abigail and waves her over to the post-flight table.

S'yu nods his head, "Bhaltairth always says he is picky, but I do not quite believe him, says it's not gentle to chase after everyone." he smirks slightly, lips tilting up. "I do not know if he's trying to fool me or himself. Haha, but my family farmhold is near Fort so I thought it was a good time to go say hello again to family." he looks at Ashwin and nods, "I suppose I can sympathize, I am holdbred for the most part, ah, the certain aspects of weyr life, the intense feelings, the emotions, it was all very new for me. Ahem, I'm still rather embarrassed by it but it's…it is a fact of dragon's. The reasons we can bond with them is likely the reason we are so affected by their own emotions so strongly. So, it is simply something I had to adapt to." he tries to smile and share his own experience. He waits for his stew and his beer to arrive back.

Th'ero frowns again but does not answer Ashwin's bitter reply concerning flights. Not much he CAN say on the matter. Instead, he goes for a vague sort of agreement. "If I could curb Velokraeth's tastes, I'd probably have less headaches." Among other problems. "I'm sure Kimmila would appreciate it too." As for Lucy's comment, the Weyrleader almost seems to flinch. Almost. He clears his throat… and fails miserably on some sort of comment. Luckily he's saved not only by S'yu but by Abigail as well. "You were born in Fort territory?" he queries, clearly interested if just for the sake of a distraction. "We'll be glad to accept you into our fold, for the time being, Ashwin." Right back into the thick of things or at least something the Weyrleader doesn't flounder so much with. "As for which Wing, well… we've only three. And it just so happens that one Wingleader is here," Cue a wave to Abigail and likely a nod that is both greeting and signal for the brownrider to approach. No escape now! Muahahaha. "Thunderbird's. If either S&R or Policing is your taste."

"Let me give you a piece of advice from 'ol Ashwin." The brownrider turns his head to look at S'yu with eyes that are kind though there's seriousness there. "I just got done giving this advice to someone who's alot like you in that situation, and it's good advice, I promise. Especially since you're not attached right now." Well, he's guessing on that one. His steady gaze looks right into S'yu's face. "Never be embarassed by a f*k. You'll do it, I did it, we all did it here, your parents did it, your grandparents did it. People have been doing it since before who knows when, and it's not going to go anywhere. There's anywhere between three and six hundred dragons in a weyr? Half of them are green. So you're going to have one going up every day most days. Just get used to it. Everyone will be f*g around you, f*g you or trying to, your friends do it, they'll do it to each other and probably try to you and if you let it bother you you're gonna have a hard life and carry around a ton of baggage that's just going to slow you down and depress you Might as well accept it for what it is and enjoy it, even if it's hard at first. I don't mind that part at all, it's the flight fatigue that gets me every time." He turns wearily to his bottle, pouring himself a glass. "Sounds great." He says to Th'ero, and gives Abigail a little nod. He seems to retreat a bit inwardly and doesn't say anything for a bit. "In the end, you have to realize, I guess, it's just a f*k. Is where I'm coming from. It's nothing to be embarassed about any more than eating or breathing and if you treat it as something else, get yourself all worked up and bothered about it, you'll screw yourself up for actual, solid sex with someone you care about and lose out on the experience."

It all flows off his tongue without pause, without much emotion either. Just like ''Ol Ashwin' as he'd say it is telling it like ti is. "Only thing is. Weyrleader. I'd prefer something without a ton of responsability. S&R and Policing? I guess . . but I'm not someone to impose my beliefs on anyone else, and hardly trust myself in an emergency."

Abigail grabs a mug of hot cider and soon catches sight of the waves for her to join the others, something she wasn't really looking to do but she might as well play nice. Right? She makes her way on over to the table, a brow lifting while she just peers at Ashwin as he goes on about this and that. "On really?" Is questioned with a soft huff of a breath as she settles herself down upon a free seat, her hands resting around her mug of warmth. "When did this become lessons time on such subjects on making out?" A slight bit of amusement is seen once Ashwin goes on talking about the responsability part. "Which mean that ye don't want anything to do if ye have ta be responsabile I take it? Sounds like a rather lazy way ta go about life ta me." Don't expect her to beat around the bush it seems with comments.
You paged Ashwin with ‘They do.’

You can nearly /hear/ Lucy rolling her eyes, and she tries to shuffle herself away from the no-longer-intriguing new clutchfather in the process of making space for newest arrival. "Our new friend Ashwin here is a sexpert, did you know?" the greenrider tells Abigail drily, looking grateful when her beer mug is delivered. "He has much to offer to Fort." </sarcasm>

S'yu nods his head, "Aye, my family has a farmhold in Fort. More than a few generations. I was clever with my hands and with repairing things around the hold. So my family tried very hard to get me into the smith hall. That was tough, but I became an apprentice. Was sent to Monaco Bay to get ready for a master smith to come in, and, well, one day I was pinned by a Bronze, and sniffed about and found myself on the hatching sands, haha. So yes I am back." He looks back at Ashwin, "Well…I understand that. I am not upset by it any longer, we're all sensitive to it. I understand that." he says with a toss of his hair. "I don't think I ever said I was hung up upon it, just it took some getting used to…" he says and eyes the other brown rider again. He glances between the Lucy and Abigail, not sure if he should say something else or…oh thank the egg, there's the stew. He smiles and thanks the sever and very politely eats, making sure to have his mouth full so he can't say anything else.

Oh for Faranth's sakes! Th'ero's brows lift and he just sort of listens with a sense of wonder as Ashwin spins his advice. Not how he'd go about it but at the same time… he can't quite find a way to counter the brownrider. He DOES have a point! It just hasn't been lovingly sugar coated. "You sure you've not spent time with our Weyrlingmaster, M'icha? That almost sounded like one of his spiels." Minus the swearing. Lucy is given a look, maybe of disapproval for the sarcasm but he keeps quiet. For now. Same goes for Abigail and the Weyrleader has to fight the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. He's probably swearing silently in his head right now. "That's fine, Ashwin. I'm not going to pin you into anything. The other Wing is Haast," Oh won't that make Lucy's day (night?)! "Transport and Craft. You a Crafter?" Simple questions. "Otherwise… hmm. I could see if Kimmila would take you in her wing… of sorts." What?

Ashwin's head comes around again to look at Lucy first this time. "Hardly." He says, idly running his finger around the inside of his glass. His voice? Not unfriendly or icy at all, almost cheerful. "Not at that. But what I do have is a lifetime experience and award of kicking my own ass for s*t and if I see a chance to save someone else doing it? I'm gonna. Trust me, lady, nobody does kicks their own ass as well as I do." Even Abigail gets a smirk. "Well said, really. And correct. See, I'm the first person to admit my life is a walking disaster. I've never had a handle on it, I can't handle myself half the time and I'm not the person who should be helping someone else." A pause. "Except, apparently, in offering advice in self loating and guilt. Because I'm an expert at that." He raises his glass to her in greeting and emphasis. "So, just the wrong jobs for me." Staring at the table, he shakes his head to Th'ero. "No. Not a crafter. Transport works. Pretty much anything works, as long as I keep busy." There is a painful uncertianty there.

Abigail grins a bit as she hears Lucy and nods to her a touch. "Oh I'm sure he does… In his own manner of speaking in a sense." She says with a simple tone while lifting her head up slightly while her pale gaze drifts to Th'ero and then over to Ashwin once more. "Great, so ye get to bring crazyness to the Weyr then in the manner of a walking disaster. Do me a favor, keep it quiet and don't wake the Aunties or I will clealy enjoy leting ye spend a few nights in a cell for any disaster ye might create." Fort has dealt wth plenty of problems as of late, they don't need more. "Kitchen work is busy work…" Yes she did just offer that idea.

The look Ashwin gets back from the lone greenrider is distinctly sulky. "'Cept M'icha's cool," Lucy says, changing her focus to the Weyrleader's comment, though at Th'ero's Look the last word comes out as a mumble. Still, the greenrider can't stop herself from miming a tiny violin, though that's under the table edge. Her shoulders stiffen when it's suggested that Ashwin join her wing…does the punishment really fit her crime, Th'ero? "Got to have your s*t together for transport," she notes helpfully, then flickers a sidelong grin at Abigail for her suggestion.

S'yu remains quiet since nothing else was said to him, politely eating, almost daintily and sipping his beer.

If Lucy keeps up with the attitude and Abigail too, they're going to BOTH find they'll all regret the sass as Th'ero will find something clever to make a few days a living nightmare for them. Except he doesn't hint at that at all, save for a faint, slightly strained smile. Final warning? "Abigail," he drawls, giving her a look now too. Please? "I doubt that's what he meant." Honestly. There's a quick nod to Ashwin, "At least you admit your flaws. Transport can be arranged or if you want, I can speak with Wingrider Kimmila. She's her own team of riders. Work with the cotholds. Lots of hard work. Busy work. Not political," In case that's what was feared. "Though she reports to me." Belatedly, to S'yu, the Weyrleader asks: "Is your family well?" It's no secret that the holds around Fort haven't had it easy over the last few Turns.

"Kitchens?" Ashwin blinks. "That's actually not a bad idea at all, people have been telling me for years I piss in their cereal like no tomorrow anway. Sounds like the perfect job for me." You have to hand it to him, he's quick with the views back, if not entirely disagreeing. "I hear drinking and whoring are pretty good too, I can manage that on my own at least." Sarcasm is applied in gobs to everything that he says but there's the certainty there that comes of either having pre-rehearsed words or actually believing what you say. "Thanks for the excellent advice on all sides. I'll file that up there right with how drop-dead gorgeous and cheerful everyone is after a flight."

Abigail glances to Th'ero, yes she caught that smile and the drawl which makes her sip quiet and sip at her drink. Fine… Though she isn't thrilled at being told to stop it seems. Someone is a bit say, moody it seems. The drinking and whoring it just makes her stare at Ashwin and her fingers tap against the mug slightly. "My comments are not because of the flight." Oh she wants to say more, but what she had in mind would most likely push Th'ero over that edge there.

If you can't say anything nice, pretend your dragon called you. Lucy hops out of her seat before she gets in it deeper with the Weyrleader. "Hally needs me," she says abruptly, and makes her way out into the night. She didn't even finish her beer!

S'yu looks up and he wipes his lips, "Oh yes, part of the reason why they helped pace me at the smith hold, they tried to place most of their children into better positions, but yes my older brothers and sisters are fine, fine as can be." he ahems, "Myself personally I much prefer the Southern waters to ah…the relative cold up north." he smiles, "But my father knows what he is doing, we've made all the quota, quite good." he blinks and looks at Lucy as she stands up, "oh all right, be well."

"No one is going to be working in the kitchens!" Th'ero states firmly, not raising his voice but there is a finality to his tone. Now he does scrub at his face with his hand, not looking entirely thrilled for the tension building. "Take time to think on it, Ashwin. There's no rush." Though he's just half tempted to say the brownrider shadow him in Phoenix and be done with it. He does seem to appreciate that Abigail is showing some restraint and he'll give Lucy a farewell nod. Now he won't have to use Jajen as a threat. To S'yu, he quirks a brow. "So you're a Smithcrafter? And it's good to hear your family is doing well." The hidden hint in his voice is that not all cothold families have been so lucky of late in Fort.

Thud. That's the sound of an empty glass hitting the table as Ashwin finally loses his paitence after all of the goading. "Do you always act like this to people you've never met before?" Ashwin says to Abigail. "Seriously. I haven't said a thing to you that wasn't polite. I feel like s*t and I've been doing my level best to keep civil. I haven't said a word about your f*g courteous attitude, stunning good looks or winsome personality, have I? Sod off, you don't know me. Don't like my lifestyle? Okay. Great. But don't stand there thinking you can judge me, or that you're better than me. The only people who call out faults in someone else are hiding a thousand themselves. You're probably even more insecure than I am. Have problems getting people to love you or something?" His eyes are blazing with fury, and his right hand is now out of sight under the table.

There's a pissed off mutter from the brownrider that sounds alot like 'Kiena was right about this f*g place.'

Abigail just peers at Ashwin, it is a thin look, and her jaw tenses slightly while watching him once his done with her comments. "The only reason I said something at all was because of the conversation ye was having in the caverns. Yer words speakloud enough rider." She says with a sudden thin tone as she shifts to standing, hands resting on the table while she just eyes Ashwin. "Yer a little pisspoor one looking for people to pitty ye in one way or another, ye get off on making comments to surprize people looking to see what gets under there skin and then ye pick at it." Oh yeah she can just guess what Th'ero is about to do at the moment though she is a bit past the point of keeping quiet. "I wasn't actually judging ye until this moment right now after what ye just said."

S'yu nods his head, "Just an apprentice, that was…4 years ago now?" he thinks, "Yes just an apprentice, glade to be out of the cold, and then suddenly on the sunny beaches, and plucked up by the weyrleader's dragon no less." he chuckles, "So yes…" he pauses some, and his smile fades. The whole table seems somber about one thing or the other. Or angry, or anything other than Jovial. He finishes his stew, wiping the remains with a crust of bread and chugging his beer, "I suppose I should make sure that Bhaltairth is fed, he tried very hard to day." figuring the best thing he can do is just depart.

"Abigail!" Th'ero is pulling rank now but unlike some, he doesn't yell or shout. It's weird, but his voice just seems to get lower and almost icy cold. It's her name but it's also a command all wrapped up in one. "You and I, we'll speak first light tomorrow." He shifts a bit in his seat, straightening and leaning forwards, his eyes fixed on the Wingleader. Did she hear the subtle note of 'backdown' or else? Ashwin's not entirely freed either, as the brownrider is given a level look for his outburst. Which is totally granted, given the situation but the Weyrleader can't exactly let him off the hook either. "Ashwin, you too." Back down and there will be a TALK later. When heads are cooler. An apologetic look is given to S'yu. This is not a typical night in Fort! "Bhaltairth is welcomed to the feeding pens. Clear skies, S'yu."

And if he heard Ashwin's mutter and picked up on that name (or the reference to Fort), Th'ero says nothing. He'll tuck that away for the time he can corner the brownrider in private.

S'yu offers a knuckle to his forehead, "Clear skies, fair winds, and warm sun."

As Abigail speaks Ashwin just holds up his left hand. It's rude, but at this point? He doesn't care anymore. Afterll, he's been needled, poked, goaded … it's probably to his credit at this point that he just raises his hand and sinks farther down into his chair with a look of pure indignation on his face. He isn't saying -anything- at this point, just seething. Even the little green on the table has darkened in color and gotten hissy.

Abigail knew those words would come from Th'ero, and she is quiet for a moment before picking up her mug. "Aye Weyrleader." Is offered with a soft and even polite tone. She knows she crossed a line and will take what comes it seems. As for Ashwin she eyes a moment before turning to leave. "Have a good evening." Is said and she moves off unless Th'ero stops her that is.

Th'ero won't stop Abigail from leaving, though he'll follow her retreat with a lingering gaze. His expression has darkened considerably, despite his attempts to keep his features (and emotions) neutral. There's no farewells from him, there is no time. Just a stiff nod and then once the Wingleader is gone, he exhales heavily. "Apologies for that… mess of a confrontation," he says and he may actually mean it. Abigail's his rider, so is Lucy and he's not about to allow either of them to needle Ashwin — even if he deserved it. Granted, that won't stop anyone from trying to do so when Th'ero isn't around. Slowly, he stands and will likely take his drinking to his own private weyr. "You're welcomed to any of the guest weyrs," he explains to Ashwin. "And we'll talk again. Soon." With hopefully cooler heads — or sobered?

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