Ista Weyr - Sable Sands

The Sable Sands, Ista's place for relaxation and entertainment in a child-free environment, stretches out before you. Once an old ground-access weyr, the place has been turned into a nightclub catering to riders and weyrfolk alike. Dark shadows drift over booths that line one wall, the conversations and actions of the booths' occupants afforded some small sense of obscurity and privacy from the rest of the bar. Glossy black tables and chairs are scattered across the middle of the floor before the stage that sits opposite the main doors, while a long bar lines the opposite wall from the booths. The bar is a fine piece of furniture, its brass fittings shining bright and wood polished to a fine sheen. Brass-legged barstools covered in soft black leather are pulled up to its counter, often crowded as still other patrons push up to it to make their orders. Tropical plants fill in the corners, their huge pots set on rollers so they can be pulled outside during the day. A discrete sound system can be found recessed in the walls, piping either recorded or live music as the day dictates to every corner of the club.

A wide selection of wines, spirits and juices can be ordered from the barstaff, and a constant pot of klah is kept brewing. Towards the end of the bar, a large machine can be seen, its copper fittings gleaming in the light - a klappachino machine for those with more 'refined' tastes.


Ugh, chores. And, even worse than normal chores - punishment chores that have kept Sergius in the Sable Sands as the hour stretches on towards dinner and the premises is beginning to fill up with riders and Weyrfolk alike, eager to relax after a long day of work. Certainly, Sergius has learned that skipping chores is probably not worth it in the long run, but that lesson doesn't make this task any more bearable. And so, for now he's lingering at the bar, leaning as he talks to one of the young women tending it, an empty tray in front of him as he bats his eyes a little, trying to get what points he can - he wont' be a candidate forever, afterall!

The door swings open as it has a dozen or so times before if not more, and among the dinner crowd is a boy with coloring unremarkable. Brown, and lighter brown, and slightly tan. Nothing as dramatic as some others that mill about the place or Ista itself. He pauses just off to the side of the doorway, leather bound book under his arm, shifting it some before he goes and finds a nice quiet table in the back. Something two seater and intimate. He drops bonelessly into the chair and sets the book he has with him down onto the table. It's large. Tome large. But the leather there of is far from being ancient and weathered as one might expect. Muddy brown eyes now take in the scenery as it were, chin dropping to a fist propped up by his below on the table. He looks bored. He looks, like he just found someone to play with. That server there flirting with the bar wench. "Excuse me," he waves trying to get Sergius' attention. "Could I get some service please?"

Its not the question asked by the boy that catches Sergius's attention - rather it takes the bar wench to get him back to ask. The young woman smirks a little, motioning for Serg to lean closer before she's slapping him and telling him to get back to work, giving his tray a sharp shove off the top of the bar. A moment to recover, and the candidate is eventually straightening up, tray under his arm as he meanders to that table. "Yeah, whatcha want?" He asks simply, shoulders sagging as his eyes linger on Kairhys, with a tilt of his head. "Food? Drink?"

Kairhys blinks as Sergius gets slapped and then watches as the bar wench shoves the boy's tray of the counter. Well then. He lowers his hand then, unable to much more than look fractionally amused as tray is collected and the damaged pride that is the young candidate slumps over towards him. "Not your night hmm?" he asks, flicking a glance past Sergius to the woman behind the bar counter, and then returning his attention to his server again. "I'm not sure," he says, free hand toying with the menu in place upon the table. "Can you recommend anything?" He leans back in his chair then, taking his time is checking out the older boy from head to toe, eyes lingering on the choice bits. Candidate meant no touch, didn't mean don't look.

"Ain't been my night for too long now, and as long as I have this.." Sergius's fingers briefly touch the white knot on his shoulder, "It won't be my night for a while, yet. But never hurts to figure out your chances, right?" Sergius replies with a crooked smirk, glancing over his shoulder at the bar wench with a bit of a sigh, and a shake of his head. "Eh. Ain't had anything bad here. Though, I ain't sure I've had much bad anywhere." And thus, his advice is probably not worth much. "I mean, I guess its all good, I'm saying." And the tray is shifted, as Sergius finally meets Kairhys's gaze, eyes widening for a moment, before he's hurriedly looking at the book. Interesting!

Kairhys awwws and does try to look sympathetic, he really really does. It just might not look all that genuine. But he tried so, maybe that counts for something. "You're a candidate," he says, having noted the knot on the older boy's shoulder long before he had it pointed out to him. It was habit maybe, perhaps even intentional given the eggs on the sands. "Small price to pay for a chance to find your lifemate, yes?" He seems to have forgotten all about needing to order and instead has focused all on Sergius. He smiles though when the candidate's eyes meet his and he gets that reaction, unable to help apparently the way he licks his lips and grins crookly for it. There is a sigh that follows though, deviating to the candidate knot on the minecraft born boy's shoulder. Alas. He follows the other's gaze though to his book and long fingers slide over the surface. "Interested?" he asks, brow lifting upwards. The tone he uses with that single word was both flirtatious and amused, and likely had more than double meaning.

"I guess. Maybe it'll make people happy, back home, if I do. Especially if its something like a bronze, then da'll be more than happy to have me visit him." And from the frown that takes over Sergius's face, its likely its a sore subject. And then, he's blushing just a little as he realizes that he's opening up to a stranger, in a bar, when he's suppose to be taking his order. But then, he's catching the look out of the corner of his eye, and the single word, the blush darkening, and the tray hurriedly shifted to be held on his other side, between them. "In the book, yeah, I guess." Awkward silence, then, as he shifts from foot to foot, eyes anywhere but on Kairhys.

Again with the appraising look from the weaver apprentice, this time at mention of bronze. "I guess I could see it. Ista seems to have its fair share of super attractive bronzeriders." He sighs again, heavily. "Must be something in the water." A dismissive shrug for that, before he drags his tome looking thing over and starts to unravel the leather strip woven between two buttons that holds it closed. He pointedly doesn't push on the subject of Sergius' father, or perhaps he was so busy rechecking the candidate out like a slab of meat to even have been paying attention to the sore subject. Either way, he kicks out the table's other chair and gestures to it. "Have a seat." he offers, the binding undone, but the book still closed. He's half smirking again. He totally caught that blush, and the shifting of the tray. "Oh relax, I'm not going to eat you. You're a candidate, and I'm picky about boys. Not that you aren't adorable."

"I, uh.." And Sergius stammers for a moment at the mention of attractive bronzeriders, the candidate almost frantically looking over his shoulder for someone else to be looking for a server or trying to get his attention, unfortunately to no avail. And so, its with a slow sigh that Sergius hesitantly slips into the pushed out chair, tray settled against his leg, hands folded in his lap, as he eyes the book, still looking around waiting for a reprimand for sitting, or some sort of escape.

Kairhys laughs softly, and simply slides the book over towards Sergius as the boy finally sits, peeling back the cover. "Just be gentle with them, and turn the pages carefully. The paper is good quality, and should be considering how much it cost me. But that doesn't mean being manhandled won't smudge the pictures or tear the pages." he instructs, his tone now much more polite and friendly. Apparently he's had his fun. The first page, is a close up of old man's hands wrapped around the smaller chubbier ones of a child. It's almost photographic in detail, but a closer inspection would see the shading and meticulous pencil strokes that make up the image.

Sergius hesitates for a moment as the book is slid over, listening to the younger teen's warning, before he's slowly opening the book, eyes widening in a different manner as he leans closer to inspect the detail of the page, a soft 'wow' escaping him. Fingers go to turn the next page, but then there's a sharp yell from the kitchen area of the Sable Sands. "SERGIUS!" And the candidate is scrambling to his feet as fast as he can, tray clattering as he does so before he's gathering it up. "Uhm, got to go. Off in an hour. I'll be back?" He asks, eye drifting back to the book with curiosity, before the threat of another shriek has him running to get back to his duties.

Kairhys leans back in his chair, perhaps regretting now not having ordered anything, his stomach giving a sharp protest that has the weaver wincing a touch. At least it's drowned out by the murmur of a dozen or so conversations taking place all around them. He smiles though as Sergius becomes enthralled by the image on the paper, his mouth opening to comment perhaps but it abruptly cut off by the bellow from the direction of the kitchen. Eyes widen, and then is followed by a low whistle. "No problem, man. Though if you don't mind perhaps bring me a couple meatrolls, some cheesy tuber fries and a glass of lemonade? I'm starving." Confession given, after all he was terribly hungry, he slides the book back over to himself and closes the cover, sealing it up again. He wasn't going anywhere either from the looks of it, gaze dropping to the candidate's posterior, lingering a few seconds before he tsks at himself, sagging into his seat as his shoulders hunch. "You are very bad boy Kairhys. Shame on you." he mutters under his breath, shaking his head.


'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.