All references to worlds and characters based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction are copyright © Anne McCaffrey 1967,2000, all rights reserved, and used by permission of the author. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey, used here with permission. Use or reproduction without a license is strictly prohibited. For more information, visit the Worlds of Anne McCaffrey.

05-11-02: Closing time
After a turn and a half of weyrling training, the weyrlings from Ysmalath and Zippith's clutch are ready to graduate -- well, it's about time.

You head down the stairs to the beach.

Ez'ial slides down off Petryth's shoulder and drops down onto the sand. He spends a moment straightening clothes and brushing back his unruly hair before looking around to see who else has arrived.

Uncharacteristically in a skirt, Lydiere strides down the stairs taking two at a time - or, at least, she tries to, since her skirt is somewhat tighter than makes large strides easy. Once safely upon the black sand beach, she strides rapidly towards the assembling folk, attempting to smooth her attire as best she can. "Hello!" she greets, pulling her hands towards pockets that-- aren't there. Instead, she lets them slide down to her sides. Oh well.

There's a small platform set up on the sand; it's slightly lop-sided, but it's hard to get something straight on the sands. Ribbons are tied around each of the corners, and there's a pair of chairs set up on it. Lymera's sitting in one; she's grinning -- well, mostly, excepting for a frown shooting in Ysmalath's direction for a moment. "Shush, you." It's murmured, before she gets to her feet, nodding towards the approaching Lydiere. "Everyone ready?"

Ez'ial nods and beams, not really able to come up with anything appropriate to say so takes the safe route and stays quiet.

Yiasy glances up, from where she is standing next to Serwynth. She glances around, looking at the other members of her class and then back forward toward the platform.

Well, he's sat in the chair before, watching a graduation, seemingly forever ago. Glancing at Zreth, he chuckles, adjusts his hat, and then looks to the platform, apprehensive, if nothing else.

Lydiere ascends the steps to the platform, tilting her head towards Lymera as she takes her own place. "Looks like they're all raring to go-- or as nervous as anything. A bit hard to tell." She scans the crowds, offering a brilliant smile to the graduating weyrlings.

Petryth peers over everyone looking like all this fuss isn't as interesting as the ribbons he spies on that platform.

Serwynth stands up a bit straighter. He's not nervous one bit. Yiasy, however is rather holding on to him as she turns to watch the Weyrwomen up on the platform.

Zreth gazes around idly. He's bored. He wants to do something. Bounce around. Standing still does not come naturally, and it is through sheer effort and force of will that keeps him unmoving.

Lymera chuckles at Lydiere, nodding her head slightly. "I remember how I felt!" Then, taking a deep breath, she stands and straightens her amethyst waistcoat, before approaching the edge of the platform. Hands tangle behind her back as she observes the crowd for a moment before grinning. "After months of torture, we finally come to day when the Wyerlings are to be released out into Pern." She pauses, grinning down at the assembled, adding in an undertone: "Poor, poor Pern."

Lydiere's expression is nearly rueful - "As do I," she agrees, scanning the crowd with - almost - a sigh. "Time surely flies," she adds, more loudly, and more formally. "How long ago was it when these weyrlings were newly Impressed, nervous and scared?" She pauses. "Oh, right. A turn and a half." There's a goofy smile on her face, somewhat bemused. Perhaps it's time to shut up, and be slightly more formal-- then again, nah.

Ez'ial tries to stifle a snicker at Lymera's opening comment then grins over at Petryth murmuing under his breath, "no.. later, you can get them later" He looks back over at the plateform to listen to Lydiere trying to stand up straight.

Serwynth isn't prone to fidgets, unlike some of his clutchsibs. No, he merely has plans for things. Yiasy gives him an elbow at something commented to her, before shaking her furiously and then pointedly, not taking her gaze away from the platform and Lymera and Lydiere.

In've just shakes his head, a grimace on his lips. But, now is a time to listen, not to act. Stand straight and tall, allowing a quick nod to the people he knows in the audience. Is that ... Rish? Nah. A trick of the light. Ah well.

Kyoninya slips onto the scene discreetly, taking careful note of the crowd before pulling her cape off and draping it over her left arm. She settles a distance from the platform, chin down, arms folded against her stomach. Those nearby might notice a somewhat grim expression, and the recently sea-travelled appearance of her outerwear. From her spot, she searches out the one person she came to watch, nods, and leans back on her right heel.

Lymera grins at Lydiere before trying to tame her face to a stern expression. "You are part of the hope of Ista." Voice is loud, carrying throughout the crowd. "Make us proud!" A giggle escapes from behind the facard, and an eyebrow rises as she peers at the weyrlings. "But I see that some of your lifemates look bored. We can't have that, now, can we?" She gives a slight nod, and suddenly Ysmalath -- who had been curled up on the beach, bursts into flight. "Oh dear. Did I mention that we gave Ysmalath your knots for safe keeping? Perhaps your lifemates might be able to try and save them?"

Lydiere's gaze lifts to watch Ysmalath, the curve of a smile upon her lips amused more than anything - though less so as Llysereth soars over the bowl wall, chasing after Ysmalath in a rather fantastic aerial display above the black sand and blue sea. "Never anything /normal/, I swear. Not since my graduation, at least."

Serwynth has just been waiting for this minute. Why, he'd been telling Yiasy he wanted to chase a queen and see, here he can. So, he's up and into the air, even if it only is after one of those nice knots that the senior gold is carrying.

Ez'ial looks up startled as Ysmalath takes off then reaches out to give a prod to the upwardly staring Petryth, "well then, go on.. catch her! If you don't we'll be weyrlings forever!" That's all that Petryth needs to hear and he launches with a fine spray of sand that sends Ez'ial's hands up over his eyes. A strong downbeat of his wings and he's into the sky flying strong and fast after Ysmalath. Weyrling forever???!!! No way!!

In've blinks, gasping at Lymera. She /can't/ be serious. But, the look on her face suggests otherwise. Glancing at Zreth, the bronze nods slightly, and launches himself into the air. "Fly true, Zreth. Remember what we've learned together, and compensate for me not being on your back. Now, GO!" Zreth bugles a challenging call ahead of him, and flies up into the skies, after his mother. In've just looks up at his lifemate, content smirk on his face. Zreth won't let him down.

Lymera watches with almost glittering eyes, before she murmurs in an aside to Lydiere: "We really should have incorperated this into the mating flight lecture and given them some practise for when the females feel a bit more glowy." Head shakes slowly at Lydiere. "That'd hardly be very Istan, now, would it? Normal? Us?" Meanwhile, Ysmalath loops around, flying so close to Llysereth that her wingtips almost touch; it's hard to tell, they're so far up, but it seems like the gold almost seems to give a nod and a flick of her tail at her fellow gold. Then, she begins to climb -- higher and higher, a rising spiral.

"You're right," agrees Lydiere, more or less sotto voce to her superior, "It would have been a useful addition. As it is, some of them've already had a chance to discover what it's really like, first hand." Her hands once again seek for pockets that aren't there, and, sighing, the Junior Weyrwoman lets them slide down the skirt of her dress, hanging limply at her thighs. "True, true. We wouldn't want to do anything out of the unordinary -- it'd be disappointing." Llysereth shoots out away from Ysmalath, weaving up higher, though at a different angle, soaring this way and that as if to confuse those chasing after her -- take that!

Kyoninya isn't too surprised, and watches the weyrling dragons head up into the sky, with slight interest. Her gaze switches back down to the people up front, and In've inparticular. She studies him intently, for any changes that may have occurred while she was on the continent for so long.

Serwynth turns neatly, rising ever higher into the skies as he follows after the golds who are leading the aerial display above. Midnight wings kept working as he ignores Llysereth in favor of chasing after Ysmalath. Yiasy is busily listening to the conversation, shaking her head slightly at the comment about flights.

Ez'ial watches as high above Petryth climbs with each strong youthful stroke of his wings. His tendency towards acrobatic flights seems to come in handy for once as he follows the spiraling golds. His determination obvious in the way that he chases. A loud bugle coming from him as he climbs after the golds slowly making gains as he does, can't let her keep that knot! His mind echoing with the phrase 'weyrling forever' as he shifts his wings slightly as he follows, strokes strong but remembering to keep an economy of motion so that he doesn't tire quickly.

Zreth keeps his eyes on the prize, so to speak

Zreth keeps his eyes on the prize, so to speak - Ysmaleth, and the cords in her talons. One of them belongs to him. Well, it will be displayed on his human, but, it's his. Or, it will be. Slashing through the air with his wings, he attempts to propel himself higher, managing to keep behind his larger brother, Petryth. In've, from the ground, stares up at the bulk of Zreth, urging him higher, but not making a show of himself.

Ysmalath replies to Petryth's bungle with one of her own -- it's almost a teasing encouragement, brassy note rising in pitch as she reaches an unseen pinnacle

Ysmalath replies to Petryth's bungle with one of her own -- it's almost a teasing encouragement, brassy note rising in pitch as she reaches an unseen pinnacle. For a moment, she's suspended mid-air, letting the weyrlings get closer. Then with the arching grace of a dolphin she curves and begins to dive, wings folding, the wind whistling over her hind. It's not a smooth dive, though -- every now and then, wings extend and she bounces up again before diving again, arrowing towards the shoreline.

Llysereth curves downwards, trilling an exuberant, sweet note as she dives beneath Ysmalath, then up again, slipping past each dragon as she winds about them -- as best as a queen, even one her size, can do. Downwards, downwards, in and out.

Serwynth resorts to almost tumbling through the air, soon enough entranced away from following the queens and then into aerial acrobatics simply because he enjoys them. Still, he keeps an eye on the golden ones, so that he's never that far away, or at least for how he's chosing to define far.

L'ae heads down the stairs to the beach.

Lymera moves back, and plonks herself back in her seat, twisted so that she can still watch the flight, an open grin on her lips as she watches the 'lings chase their dam for the knots, and Llysereth confuse the issue. "Exactly! And if we disappoint, then R'yn'd spank me." She pauses, before chuckling. "Actually, I'd like to see him try. Although, we wouldn't want our fearless weyrleader to get incapacitated, now would we, so maybe not."

Petryth gives a frustrated trumpet as Ysmalath lets them get near and then drops. His wings snap back folding against his body as he dives, each time her wings open his snap wide again. All the time his eyes are on the strings in her talons. He follows her bugling challenges after her, each time she bounces, his motion is less startling as he begins to anticipate the movement. But he is wary as the beach rushes back towards them, his dam is a wily one and he won't have her outsmart him when graduation and freedom is on the line! (never bet against a sicilian when death is on the line! *ahem* wrong theme)

"Ah, he'll be safe soon enough," points out Lydiere, cheerfully. "When Zaislinth goes on the sands, he'll probably end up over there for a while, I guess. On and off. An easy escape. But it could be an awfully funny scene, if you think about him - him trying to spank, you delivering vengeance."

Zreth watches Ysmaleth in her dive, but can only take a long, slow arc away from her, curving around the 'long' way actually picking up momentum, as he gets a bead on her again. Deciding that, instead of dropping to the water's height, he will angle himself slowly, trying to tackle her from above and behind. In've stares up, watching the movement from the ground, and, probably sending Zreth what he sees, so that the dragon can better plan his tactics.

"We must try it sometime. We could charge admission to observers." Mention of Zaislinth, however, brings a frown from the Istan Weyrwoman. "Hmp." Arms cross for a moment, before Lymera watches the dragons distractedly, biting her lip for a moment. Meanwhile, Ysmalath emits an almost scolding little noise as she banks above the waters. Sure, it's not as close to the waters as a green might be able to accomplish, but it's still impressive, right? Stringy things scatter as talons open, falling near Zreth to sink into the clear Istan waters; then, wings beating furiously, Ysmalath begins to gather height again, twisting around to head towards the beach. Lymera just shakes her head, before turning towards the Weyrlings. "I'm sure your lifemates might need a little help out there in the water fishing those things out -- they're just a little bit too small for dragons to pick up, don't you think?" Grin is almost childish, good humour recovered. "I hope you're not too attached to your clothes."

Lydiere's mirth lasts long enough for her to agree, "Oh, quite. A real boost to our tithes, even." Zaislinth, and Lymera's response to said name, brings a darkening to her own expression, though she makes no comment on it -- promptly distracted by the falling of knots. "Well, gosh darn it. Guess they're going to have to be soggy and wrinkled before the poor things get 'em." She's sunk into a seat of her own, shading her eyes with her right hand, as she adds, "Wish I'd thought to bring a hat, unwise as that might have been."

Kyoninya quirks a brow in amusement and peers at the crowd around her - laughter. And, like turkeys, all heads are turned skyward. Of course. Until the Weyrwoman's comment. Kiya shrugs and leans back on her other leg to watch what comes next. She's waiting for after to make her move.

Ez'ial watches as the knots fall as both he and Petryth give a sharp sound of frustration in unison. He shakes his head though as he takes off at a run towards the water, shirt comes off on the way and into the wayves he splashes. Above Petryth sort of backwing, sort of belly-flops into the ocean sending a big wave towards the shore. But both weyrlings are intent on those knots! And both are now pretty much laughing at the ridiculous circumstance they find themselves in at the moment. Well, as close to a laugh as Petryth's trills can be.

Serwynth turns and then looks over the knots on the water, skimming as close as he can get to them before moving back out of the way in frustration. as he watches several of the other weyrlings head out into the water. Yiasy moves in only so far as she can walk and still be upright, before giving a scolding to the dragon up above. "It's not my fault I never learned to swim."

Lymera appears to have forgotten Zaislinth almost completely as she laughs out loud watching the 'lings race. "We should have a graduation every day." Lymera makes a face as she notices Yiasy's trouble. "I didn't realise she couldn't swim -- did you? Will another weyrling help her out, or do we have to go swimming ourselves?" Expression is almost pained. "I /like/ my clothes."

While the weyrlings are busy in the quest for the knots, Lydiere's poking at a pile of straw-ish things beneath her chair with one foot, and then the other. "Maybe I can borrow one," she murmurs, thoughtfully, as she leans down to pull them forward, though it's hard to tell exactly what it is she's grasping at. "We should! More clu-- no, wait. No more clutches. No, I didn't," she adds, glancing at Yiasy, with a smile, then adding, "Shards, I hope not. My sister would kill me, if I ruined another set of clothes."

In've turns to the water, after being prompted by Zreth. Grinning, he turns to the water. It's only weyrhide; it'll dry. Meh. Nah. Throwing the weyrhide jacket to the winds, he notes Yiasy's cry, and nods. "Two knots, coming right up." And then, he's in the water, throwing himself forward. He's at least had some time to practice swimming, without Ahreluth watching over him all the time.

Ez'ial reaches the spot where all the knots hit the water and dives, Petryth bugling encouragement above the waves in typical boistrous fashion. Once, twice.. third times the charm, he finally comes up with a knot in his hand waving it aloft and gasping great heaving breaths as Petryth bugles his triumph all around. He looks around for other knots having heard Yiasy behind him when he hit the waves. Likely in his current breathless state In've will be far more likely to find another one for her first.

The other weyrlings -- making up the clutch total of eleven -- dash into the waves alongside Ez'ial and In've, diving and searching, coming up with soggy knots every so often, and exchanging them about for ones with the right coloured cord.

Lymera mops her forehead with a rather dirty hanky fished out of the pocket of her velveteen pants -- no dresses here! "Thank Faranth, looks like Yiasy's being taken care of." Lydiere is peered towards. "You've got the... uh... stuff?" Meanwhile, Ysmalath has landed and is smugly watching the Weyrling Knot Fire Sale with eyes that almost seem to dance, not swirl.

Kyoninya watches the weyrlings get wet, still waiting, not particularly intrigued any longer. Tedious, tedious, tedious. She had a schedule. Ah, well, it would be over soon and she could speak with him.

In've throws himself beneath the waves now, after taking a large mouthful of air. He's going to stay down until he has exactly what he's looking for. A few moments pass, and then, he resurfaces, face red, dripping with water. But, he holds aloft his prize. Two knots, wet, but visible in the light. Walking slowly back to the shore, he stops to give Yiasy one of his treasures. "Promise me that you'll take up swimming." Then, he continues back to where his jacket landed, and dons it again, before returning to his now-landed dragon.

Yiasy nods her head as she waits then in the shallows, although giving encouragement to the blue still flying above. She calls out her thanks to In've before she works on staying upright in the water. "I guess, that I should. Just never seemed like something I'd have to learn. Nothing in the beastcraft swims."

Llysereth, likewise, backswings upon the sands, but not until after she's caused some havoc of her own, by creating even larger waves in the ocean, then darting up to the sky again. "Yah," agrees Lydiere, having given up formality -- she's not quick kicked off her shoes yet, or spread her legs (unadvisable, in a skirt) like a sailor, thankfully. "Everyone found a knot?" she calls, standing up. "Let's get back here, shall we? They'll dry, and then you can pretend that wrinkled knots are the latest trend."

Ez'ial finally makes a few trades with others to get a knot with a thread of bronze in it. Beaming and breathless he makes his soggy way out of the water with Petryth skirting the other weyrlings so that he doesn't make their search harder and comes dripping out of the water with his soaked lifemate all the while trilling and warbling merrily as he found this game quite fun. Especially now that he knows he won't be a 'weyrling forever'. Ez'ial pauses at the sands edge to run his hands along his body and arms and legs, pushing excess water out of his clothes and hair as if it will help any. He trudges back up towards the platform with talkative Petryth coming along behind, tail in the air and wings outspread.

Yiasy straggles back on up to the beach, giving Serwynth a bit of pet as he lands as well. "Well, you didn't tell me to learn, silly. And how was I supposed to know?" She turns back to watch the platform, now holding on to one rather wrinkled knot as it drips slightly.

In've stands tall, and dripping wet, beside the platform. "You flew well, Zreth. You didn't know that she would drop them." He smiles at his lifemate, and then looks out at the crowds, hoisting his knot high. "This confirms it. I serve Ista Weyr!"

Once the weyrlings are all assembled again, Lydiere gathers up the things from under her chair -- hats? -- and steps to the front of the stage. "You didn't catch the knots - you swam for 'em. So we'll try your catching skills for these, shall we? Wearing a hat will indicate that you're not yet tapped into a wing. So if you happen to /lose/ your hat..." she trails off, expression wicked. The hats are-- uh, interesting. A few have paisley bands, at least one is pink, another a somewhat sickening yellow-green. One by one, they're tossed to weyrlings. Well, Lydiere's amused at the very least.

Lymera settles back, with a comment: "Maybe we should dunk our knots, after, so as not to be left out." Someone has passed her a little sweet bar, and she begins to quietly munch away in the background. In've gets a thumbs up in between mouthfuls -- she's probably not exactly the most awe-inspiring Weyrwoman around? Meanwhile, as the hats are tossed out, Ysmalath seems to have gained an... interest. Almost cat like, she's made her way to the outskirts of the crowd, head turned to face all those lovely hats being given away. "Keeping hold of that hat might be a problem." Lymera murmurs.

Kyoninya nods slowly, thoughtfully, watching the weyrlings, before her gaze turns toward Lydiere and Lymera at their words, and mutters faintly. However, she continues to wait patiently.

Ez'ial groans but has to laugh as he reaches out to catch a hat that flies past. He ends up, of course, with a brilliant red horror with a bright purple paisly band on it and, havens help him, a big wherry feather stuck in the side. He looks at this... thing and then feels a shiver up his spine and turns to find Ysmalath creeping up on the crowd. He groans and steps to the side and behind Petryth who already has his big head down checking out what he finds to be a BEAUTIFUL new addition to his lifemate's drab wardrobe.

In've looks at Lymera. "Well, I suppose I should take this one off then. It's dripping wet as it is." With a quick backhand motion, the hat formerly perched atop his head is removed, and the man glances at Ysmalath. "Ysmalath, I'll trade you. My choice of hat for this one in my hand." The hat in question is pointed towards her; a dripping wet straw hat, with a lilac ribbon atop it.

Yiasy ponders the lovely purple hat she managed to grab. The one with the navy and hunter green paisley band. She tilts it over to Serwynth so he can get a good look at it. "Yes, it rather does have your color blue in it. As well as several other colors you don't have." She keeps a wary eye out on Ysmalath, between glances to where Lymera is sitting.

"I think that's the idea," murmurs Lydiere back to Lymera. "Give them a challenge, while they're waiting to get their wing assignments."

Lymera rises to her feet rather quickly. "That's Ysmalath's hat!" Hmp. Lymera looks rather taken-aback, frowning at In've's exchange.