'The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967, 2000. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on PernWorld MUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.

Emerald Islands - The Pearl Dolphin Resort

The Pearl Dolphin Resort is the premier getaway of the Western Isles, named so for the gigantic fountain of a leaping dolphin tiled in finely polished mother-of-pearl that dominates the entrance courtyard, playfully spouting water from its mouth in a cascade of rainbow-kissed mist. Speading out from the dolphin fountain are lavish gardens of all colors and types - from the local flora to exotic, gardens of carved shrubbery, and even one of medicinal and culinary herbs. Of course, a special tiled area is set aside for the dragons to land and not cause any damage to the delicate foliage. The main building itself is made of white stone with marble accent, the paths the same coral tile that lines the Coral Road. The building itself is not very large, only enough to hold a couple hundred, lending to a very exclusive nature that makes getting a room difficult. During celebrations at the Weyr, it is all but impossible. There are even rooms specifically designed for riders and their dragons, and suites for the most important of guests that may travel here from all across Pern. Gaming rooms, fine restaurants, a private beach, and many other amenities make it truly a place of relaxation and luxury. Also located publically on the resort grounds is a massive tented area for festivals and gathers as well as a racetrack where people can come from all over to win and lose their fortunes.

Rukbat is starting to set over the resort, but that doesn't mean any of the activities are dying down at the Trade Fair. The weather is still clear, with few clouds overhead, and the glow baskets have been opened all around the big fountain in the middle of the resort. Glow baskets line the walkways for the stalls set up along the beachfront. Crafters, vendors, cooks, and everyone inbetween have come to participate in the fair, and things are bustling along the water. Those who are tired of shopping are free to sit or swim along the beach. They can also stop to listen to the groups of harpers that have been taking turns playing on a small stage in front of an area to dance, surrounded by small tables. Dragons pop in overhead, then land in the designated area to drop off goods and people or pick them up constantly as the fair goes on.

Zi'on for his part has been here the better part of the day. The bronzer was actually one of the few able to rent a room, though he'll like concede it later on to someone else for actually sleeping in. After taking a swim, then heading up to relax a bit, the bronzer is heading back down to mingle with the crowd and do a bit more shopping, as his earlier attempt was cut short a bit when he bumped into some past, present and possibly future residents of his weyr. The weyrleader is still sporting the cabana shirt he had on earlier, though he's changed his shorts out for a nice pair of slacks, since the temperature is doomed to drop a bit. What's the weyrleader looking at? Knives of course. Lots and lots of knives.

Zaala has returned to a Weyr she fostered at not long ago, only a few short months prior actually. There's nothing like a good celebration to have an excuse to return to the Weyr, though by her own desire or not, since it seems the trip was planned. The candidates of Fort are accompanied by their own escorts, Zaala keeping easy pace with the group of candidates, pausing at a few vendors along the way, those who specialize in the more feminine of products, from hair care to perfumes, to baubles and clothing goods. Currently Zaala has stopped short at the hair care stall, eyeing up some nice combs and brushes, undecided if she could actually afford one or both. The merchant is doing a good job at trying to convince her to also buy a hair barrette, glittering with jewels and color. By her tone, she's trying to barter, but also make the merchant think she's going to walk away if he doesn't start to cut her some deals. Weyrbats, they know how to shop.

Edani is dressed casually for the tropical weather he grew up in with loose-fitting, sand-colored cotton trous, his shirt, made of the same material is open-necked and short sleeved, his Fort Weyr Candidate's knot fluttering on his right shoulder. Sandals kick at the coral crunching underfoot now and then - that is until he steps into the more formal part of the resort and the road is tiled. He's ambling in a seemingly aimless fashion, hands shoved in his pockets, but his brown eyes have a certain watchful alertness as he scans the milling faces. He's gotten quite a bit of sun today, face and arms tanned to just this side of a burn. It hasn't been all that long since he was reassigned by the Beastcraft Hall from Western Weyr to Fort Weyr so of course, he knows Zi'on. "Good evening Weyrleader," he says drawing up to give the knives a casual glance, noting Zaala over by the girly stall at the same time. She gets a nod and a half-smile.

As excursions go, Borodin's rather enjoying this one. Okay, so maybe it's a little more on the warm side than he'd prefer, but the iced fruit juice he bought is tasty. Besides, the sun's starting to go down. His visiting ground comes out from one of the aisles, and scatter between the stalls as everyone finds something to fascinate them. For Borodin, it's… the knives, apparently. He makes his way over, nodding to Edani and looking appreciatively over the slicers, dicers, and choppers. "Ooh," he says to one, then pauses as he hears Edani. Weyrleader? He gives Zi'on a sidewise glance, and his shirt a tug into being straight again.

Zi'on wouldn't be able to make heads or tails out of what his half-sister is attempting to buy. Also he doesn't recognize her. Out of his own ignorance, clearly. It's not like L'ton made it a point really to introduce his children to one another. The Western weyrleader is discovering he's got siblings all over the map in every nook and cranny as it were. Zi'on is looking at some pocket knives, of the folding variety when Edani greets him. There's a smile to the beastcrafter. "Hello, candidate." Then he corrects himself, "Candidates. Glad you could join us out here. There will be a beastcrafter demonstration later on." The last noted for Edani's sake. He leans over towards Borodin and sniffs. "Not sneaking in the booze, are we?" It's followed by a laugh and a pat on the back. "I'm kidding. Even if you were I wouldn't rat you out. Just don't overdo it." He taps his finger to his nose. "I'm looking for a knife for my weyrmate. She's got several already, but I was hoping to pick up something that she could carry all the time. Her other ones are too big for that."

Somewhere in the mix, Zaala has finished her haggling, approaching the others all gathered around the knives with a skeptical glance to them and then to her apparent half-sibling. Forty-two is a lot of Shiptons to keep track off, but she does know of this one, at least, if her eyes upon the Weyrleader's knot doesn't decieve her. Still, she is bold enough to smirk, "Why do men always think to buy us sharp pointy things?" She notes with a dismissive gesture to the knives, pulling out instead a nice animal (thinking something with a horn) bone made comb from her bag, "Why not nice things like these?" She clearly doesn't know who his weyrmate is but makes the remark nevertheless. She drops the item back into her bag and flicks her loose blond hair back over her shoulder, pale green hazel eyes looking between the boys. She's wearing a blouse and shorts, despite the weather. Girls have better tolerance for that anyway, some, at least.

What guy doesn't like knives? Edani is no exception, but he gives them only a cursory glance before his eyes resume sweeping the area. As for him, the name Shipton means little, not having actually grown up in Western Weyr, merely lived there for a turn along with the other refugees from the Emerald Islands. "Thanks for having us," he returns to the Weyrleader, chuckling over his commentary on booze. "She has several, so of course she needs more." he's bemused, but hey - maybe she's a chef? He picks up on the mention of a beastcraft demonstration. "Oh? What sort?" The comb Zaala shows them draws a grin and a slow drawl, "Like that's not sharp and pointy? Nice craftsmanship, though."

Borodin bobs his head as he's greeted by the weyrleader. "Hullo," he murmurs, and nods at the talk of a demonstration, his own gaze flicking to Edani briefly. Then his eyes widen. "What? Me? Uhm, no, I…" Oh. He swallows, and puts on a shaky sort of smile instead. "O-of course not." He looks down, over the knives on display. The ones that seem to most have his attention are the cleavers and long thin blades - the chef knives, in short. Ahh, knives, the great soother of emotions. Looking at them (plus taking a breath or three) is enough to let him look up again, to… Zaala. He waves a little greeting to her. "Oh, uhm, I wouldn't. I'd get something wrong if I tried to get knives for her." He shrugs a little, but his eyes linger on that comb, and he bites his lower lip with an uncertain expression before shaking his head and looking back to sharp pointy knife-type-thingies.

Forty-two! If Zaala's last count of her father's progeny was forty-two, then she missed half a decade or better. The total was up over sixty last time Zi'on checked. And really their father is nearing fifty now, it was time for him to stop creating more spawn. "In the case of my weyrmate, she likes sharp pointy things." He laughs as Zaala holds out a comb. "I'm not sure my weyrmate has ever even seen one of those!" He coughs then, grinning. "Don't tell her I said that. I don't want to find myself at the business end of one of those sharp pointy things." The bronzer grins to Edani. "Of course. Actually I just have no idea what else to get her. She doesn't like girly things. I'm actually not sure the details of the demonstration. Runners, I think. Maybe." The bronzer has the stall attendant pull a sword out for him. "I was thinking I also might get something for your weyrleader. He likes sharp pointy things, too. I think it runs in the family." Zi'on grins a bit. "Maybe not such a good idea though, given the circumstances." He looks at the knives Borodin is browsing. "You work in the kitchens when you're not busy being a candidate?"

Zaala offers a bit of a smile for Borodin, though it was Edani whom she knows a little better but not by much, "Call it a more multi-purpose tool then, pointy and able to comb hair, a girl's secret weapon." She winks to him as she hides the comb and hangs the bag off her elbow, eyes turning disdainfully back on the knives, "The only knife I need is one to cut my food up into itty bitty pieces. Carrying one of those is just -asking- for trouble." She notes of the more functional knives on the table, her attention drifting back to Zi'on, "Ugh. I pity you then," hair is so nice and pretty, "For your sake I hope she has short hair." And then that makes girls look boy like. Clearly this weyrbrat is more of the sasscraft than not, shrugging about the topic. Her eyes follow the conversation back to Borodin, sighing to herself some, for reasons unknown. Is she fawning over a guy who can cook? Who knows with teens.

Edani rolls a sidelong look back to Borodin, the corners of his mouth curling up despite his best attempt not to grin. He can't resist a bit of a quiet tease, "You must look either tipsy or guilty, eh?" To Zi'on, all he can think to say is, "She sounds… sort of scary. Like Zapallie." He studies those knives once again, though his eyes are on the ones for skinning when he tells Zaala, "They come in handy for other things. If you know how to use them." Eh, so no, he's not much for combat. Runners, though, those he'd be interested in watching, or even riding, if the expression in his face is any indication. He quirks a perplexed look at Zaala. "Long hair looks alright left free," he says mildly.

Not helping, Edani! Borodin gives the former beastcraft candidate a sidewise look and a little hmph. There's a passing smile for Zaala in return for hers, and then his gaze is back to Edani at yet another Z name. This one, though, gets the curly up corners of mouth and his full attention. He's not scared! Not that he says anything aloud. When the question comes to one actually directed at him, he nods to Zi'on. "Yes, uhm, I was a cook. Well, I guess I still am, only, well, I'm a Candidate, and that takes a lot of time." Beat, and then he adds hurriedly. "Not that I mind! I mean, I like it, I just, well, it's a big thing." Yes. Right. That. He entirely misses Zaala's sigh, not that he'd know what to make of it if he did notice.

Zi'on rubs his chin. "She's also a smithcrafter. So she likes a good knife." He chuckles and shakes his head. "Her hair is long and wild. I suggested she cut it once and she nearly cut my head off for it. She keeps it braided sometimes now though. It's hard to ride with so much hair everywhere." There's a grin given to Edani. "Who is Zapallie? She can be scary, I guess. Though I'd consider her more… stubborn. It's not like she goes around threatening people with knives. She just likes them." The bronzer ends up buying the pocketknife he was looking at earlier. It's got a nice shiny blue handle. After paying for it, he slides it into his pocket. "A cook is a good thing to be. We all gotta eat. I like to cook, but only over like a firepit. I just end up making a disaster in the kitchen. That's why the headwoman doesn't let me in there. Also because I steal pastries." And set off flour bombs, and lock people in pantries, and rig up pots and pans to fall over, and… well, general weyrbrat pranks. "Oh, and because of that incident with her underwear…"

Zaala considers Edani point blank at his last remark, noting with some wry sarcasm, "I don't take it you've ever had long hair?" case in point her hand flips some of her own unbound hair back behind her, "It tangles at the slightest whip of wind. If you leave it unbrushed or without a comb, it'll be a rats nest that because extremely hard to wash." Care and attention to the simple things, eyes blinking a bit at the name Zapallie. Another Z name. Hum. She doesn't remark about the girl though, not having the chance to run into her. Instead her attention sounds a little lazy at the beastcraft demonstration, "We just -milked- cows and spent the whole day at the beastcraft hall. Count me out there." Her attention swivels back to Borodin, eyeing him up for a time, brows lifting, amusement kept in her eyes though. No he wouldn't know and mind reading is not possible. She seems to try and take in as much as Zi'on is saying with a smirk, not able to piece it altogether, but, it was amusing for all it was worth.

Edani is probably not helping Borodin to relax, though the intent to get at least a chuckle from the shy cook/candidate goes awry. He's sharp enough to note the look on Borodin's face, brows quirk in enquiry. Not scared? Do tell. He doesn't prod, however. He's heard a few things bouncing around but gives little thought to the gossip. To Zi'on, he says simply, "This girl back at Fort. Sharp tongue, sharper knives." He listens with amusement to the Weyrleader's commentary, but makes no remark to them. Instead he answers Zaala readily enough, "Nope. But to be fair, you were talking pretty, not practical. And tangled is pretty too. Though I wasn't implying free and tumbled hair ought to go uncombed forever."

Who is Zapallie, really? Borodin's mouth opens to consider on that question, but Edani gets in there first. "Uhm. Yeah," he adds, and looks back down to the knives for a moment before glancing back up to Zi'on. "The under…" Blink. "Well, I… suppose pastry stealing would do it, yes. Best to stick with the day-olds, nobody minds as much when those disappear." He listens to the talk of hair, combed versus not, with a vague bemusement.

"My hair doesn't even have to be that long before it's a mess." Zi'on rubs his hand over his head. "So I just keep it short. It's easier that way. I don't even have to do anything special to wash it." If Zi'on has put two and two together about Zapallie, then he doesn't say anything about it. There were some others out there with Z-names, too. "Sounds like a recipe for trouble." He notes about his other Fort-dwelling half sister. "I like long hair on girls. And I'm rather fond of Kiena's wild hair. It fits her spitfire personality I guess." Zi'on chuckles. "The day olds? They're not as good. You gotta eat them when they're fresh. Just out of the oven, all flaky and the sweetner all oozy. Man, I'm hungry. Who is hungry? Let's go get some grub."

Zaala smirks at Edani, "Fair enough. I'll leave you boys to your toys. Besides, I thought I saw some nice -clothing- vendors over that way." She makes it evident that she's going to head off that way, and browse, until they're taken back to Fort. She waves a hand at the others, not making any further remarks about the hair topic, clearly having moved on from that, approaching some of those clothing stands with excitement growing.

"And… strangely, a friend," Edani tacks on. Even though he handles Zapallie with kid gloves most of the time! If the rumors are true, Borodin is much admired for his ability with the girl in question. "Enjoy your shopping Zaala," he says, giving her a little wave before shaking his head at the Western Weyrleader ruefully while patting his lean stomach. "I had something down at the beach. You go ahead. I'll see you later, I'm sure. Right now, I need to find someone." With that he gives the two other men a small nod, shoves his hands back in his pockets and strolls off into the crowds, still scanning each face with that watchfulness of his.