Leftovers

[Moira]

They'd feasted and danced and drank, and now that the afternoon suns were crawling into their height everyone had all but abandoned the living caverns to get on with their daily duties. Most Moira suspected had sodded off to take a nap, especially after what had been a very eventful and early morning. Of course that didn't mean she got to take a nap, oh no. She was watching over the last of the merry makers in the caverns while the drudges and kitchen staff attempted to clean around them. Not an easy task to be sure. Two Lords were arguing, already well into their cups, over a card game they'd been playing the past two candlemarks, while another man, whom Moira suspected to be a son of one of said Lords, was passed out in the corner. She hadn't noticed him there at first, at least not until she'd seen the terriers poking their noses about for scraps. They seemed to think the young man was full of treats and were rifling about in his pockets like street thieves.

Still, the somewhat sour aftertaste, didn't stop the feast from having been a roaring success. Her eyes scanned the room as if taking mental notes of things yet to be done. The tables were in the process of being cleared and the leftovers would be stored away, likely to be brought out again for a small dinner later in the evening for those who hadn't sated themselves enough this morning. The Lords and theirs would have to either be escorted to their respective holds, meaning she'd need to arrange transportation for those who'd dallied, or set up in the rooms for visitors. Perhaps she ought to check to make sure the linens had been changed. A sigh bit through the purse of her plump lips and she shook her head, curls giving an unruly bounce.

No, she needed to finish the living caverns. Jilenna would be dealing with the candidates who'd been injured on the sands and those who had not impressed, and that meant Moira needed to be extra certain nothing went wrong. Her eyes shifted to the raised platform on which the harpers had performed earlier. They had at least been thorough about cleaning up their instruments and things, one less thing for her to concern herself with. She yawned then and drowned said yawn with a gulp of klah. No time for rest just yet. Instead she swept over to the two Lords, peeking over the shoulder of one as if very intent on the game. Best to give them the benefit of the doubt, see if she couldn't convince them there were better spoils to be had elsewhere.

[Wi'sc]

A good, solid hatching feast. Few injured, none dead, none betweened. His baby sister pregnant, his little brother promoted to Weyrsecond. He couldn't have been happier today! He would have liked to snag that pretty little greenrider who'd brushed him off early in the feasting, the 'Green Green of Ista' wasn't a bad way to spend a few candlemarks in his mind. She was rumored to be quite the little wildcat, and he could attest to that, even if it wasn't in bed. It wasn't very often a woman brushed him off like a buzz bug. But that hadn't ruined his day in the least, he'd found a few other distractions between his socializing and his turns on the stage.

Currently, he was perched on the edge of said stage, checking the tuning of his violin before he put it back in its case for the trip home. It was a bit of a trip, with the fact that he disliked taking his instruments between if he could at all avoid it. It wasn't a bad trip between Fort and High Reaches, but it seemed like it took a while when you flew straight through. Confident he had the tuning back in order, he pressed the violin to his shoulder, tucking his chin to hold it in place as he ran through a quick check of the sound. Finding it to be satisfactory, he laid it to rest in its padded case, tucking it in like a new born babe before closing and latching the case.

His deep blue gaze lifted to scan the few bodies remaining in the cavern, and finding a pretty young thing struggling to convince a pair of holders to move their card game elsewhere. Clearly well past their happy drunk phase, the pair didn't want a thing to do with the woman's polite suggestions and attempts to evict them. And being who he was, he couldn't just sit by and watch a woman frustrate herself with trying to be polite when he could make her life all the easier. Leaving his case safely on the stage, he headed straight for the table, right at the woman's back. His expression shifted to irritation, his gaze hardening and his brow furrowing as he stalked across the hall. Finally catching the eye of one of the holders, his frown turned sour and his gaze sharp. It was amazing what an irritated bronzer could accomplish with a look and a few choice words.

Coming up behind and just to the side of the brunette, he set a hand lightly on her shoulder. His gaze turning from the men to her, then back again "These gentlemen giving you trouble, ma'dear?" The woman looked frazzled and tired enough without having to talk drunkards into moving their backsides elsewhere so she could do her job. Clearly they needed a bit more motivation though.

[Moira]

She wasn't frustrated, at least not yet. After turns in the creche doing her time as a nanny and attendant to riled up, fussy toddlers, it was hard to get her properly in a tizz. Then again - it wasn't often she would've gone into the creche after the kind of morning she'd had. When you wanted to yawn in the middle of the afternoon there was probably an issue to be dealt with and she would deal with it, with copious amounts of caffeine, just as soon as the two sharding old wherry brains learned what was good for them.

Her elbow dropped to the table, providing a perfect rest for her chin so that she could survey the cards as they switched hands back and forth. The neckline of her dress displayed a certain amount of cleavage upright and bent over it was very narrowly tiptoeing the line of scandalous. And see, that would've been worth noting, save neither man seemed to give her more than a scant glance, before turning back to what they were after. Her nose had gotten a bit of a wrinkle in it by the time Wi'sc appeared and she glanced appreciatively over her shoulder at him.

"Nah so much troublin' me," her eyes flickered up the bronzerider's face and across to his knots. Bronzerider. Not Fortian. Interesting. She had a distinct slowness in her look, that when it so suddenly became business again was almost disconcerting. "As perhaps each other. Yah see, this man here." Moira gave a slight nod to the man on her right, whom she was leaning next to. "I have this feeling, he might not be... on the level." Or, playing in the sub-basement as it were. Lucket would probably blush to see how these men played, they'd make damn fine Bitrans. Both of them were cheating, slipping cards in and out of their hands like seasoned pros and she doubted either knew about the other, though they may have suspected it. "And that one..." She shook her head, amused to see the old codgers staring each other down, the game paused full stop.

[Wi'sc]

A heavy, throaty chuckle escaped him at her words, as if she'd just told an old and beloved joke. Shifting, he kept his hand perfectly on her shoulder, a subtle gesture that the two males aught to have recognized. It was a possessive move, though fully polite in its delivery, and meant to show them that he would protect his claim by enforcing whatever commands she had given. Not that the first was true, but it helped to sell his desire to be helpful. And every moron know that a male defending his female's honor was not to be fracked with!

"See, that's the issue with cheaters, once they start, they never seem to be able to stop...." His had been on her while she spoke, but had turned from one male to the other once he'd started in on his own words. His darkly blue eyes warning them that it was time to clear out. But seeing as they were inebriated and very much slow in the head, he decided to speed things along and just be a bit more blunt with them. He was a bronzer, and not affiliated with this weyr, so what could they do? They could make a show of not liking his suggestion, but unless they wanted to start trouble with a dragonrider, they would know better than to rebel. "I think its time to take the game home, gentlemen. The lady needs to get the cavern back in order before the evening meal" He gave them a wolfish grin, though anyone on the receiving end would hardly call it a smile. More of a polite snarl, in all honesty.

"If you'd like, I can give you a hand with your friend there" He nodded towards the younger fellow slumped against the wall, with the terriers riffling through his clothes like they knew he was little better than the vermin they hunted. "Drunks can be a bit of a challenge to move sometimes, and it wouldn't be any trouble, honest" And there lay the mild mannered and docile threat that was likely needed to get through the haze of a head full of wine. Get out, or get thrown out.

[Moira]

If Moira's words had given the pair pause, Wi'sc's had probably stopped their poor old hearts. Too bad she wasn't feeling particularly giving or she might've actually felt bad for what may have been fear spiking through the general disdain they both gave off. The elder of the pair, and perhaps smarter as well, placed his cards on the table with what seemed to be almost an inordinate amount of care. Likely he didn't want to jiggle loose the extra cards he'd stashed up his brocaded sleeves. Still, they were incredibly slow about cleaning up their cards, shooting dark looks up at the bronzerider as they did so. Something told her, if their muttering was any indication, that she'd be hearing about this later. It was sort of fun though to watch them scurry about cleaning up and catering to their stumbling young man. Though they didn't tarry it still took them a bit to get out and when they finally had Moira turned to eye the bronzerider instead.

"Now, that was right helpful of you..." Her lips quirked up at the corners, a glint in her amber eyes. The trailing of her sentence left him room for introduction though she didn't wait for it. Already her hands were sweeping over the tabletop, clearing the pitcher of drink and the glass the men had been using.

[Wi'sc]

Watching the pair gather up their things, and then their friend, it was hard for him to keep a straight face. Somehow he managed, keeping a completely blank and unreadable expression on his face as those dark blues watched every move the men made. It wasn't until the trio of drunkards had made it out into the hall that a broad grin cracked his features. His gaze turned to her as she spoke, and he chuckled "Wi'sc, of High Reaches. And its the least I could do, what with the mess you have to clean up on everyone else's account... I just wish there were a few more to oust, that was rather amusing" He shifted, hand falling from her shoulder finally as he crossed his arms casually over his broad chest. His breaches didn't have pockets, being his gather finery and all, and that left him no place to put his hands. Damn finery. "Seeing as how I'v run off all the belligerent drunks, is there anything else I can do to help ya out" Might as well be nice while the mood struck him.

[Moira]

"Wi'sc." She repeated his name softly, an arched brow accentuating something warm in her eyes. It was probably the remnants of whatever alcohol she'd dosed into her klah during the feast, but who could really tell? At this point it was probably something like a mixture of exhaustion and who knew what else. Her lips parted with a chuckle and she gave his shoulder a light pat before moving past him to pick up a tray of discarded glasses.

"Down just for the party then?" Moira flipped her fingers at a table still in need of clearing. "If you really want to help," and she sort of doubted he did, " grab some dishes and meet me in the kitchens." Her own arms were pleasantly laden with glasses and a jug she picked up in passing, nodding back at him as if she actually expected him to lend a hand. After offering he might as well, and if not, well - she'd have someone shoo him out as well.

[Wi'sc]

Drink had that sort of effect on some, that warm snugly effect that made them all the more pleasurable to be around after a cup or two. Though for some it had the opposite effect, leaving an angry ornery persona in its wake. Though, Wi'sc wasn't all too concerned about what or why the pretty little brunette was giving him that warm sort of look, he was just enjoying it while it lasted.

Smirking, he nodded at her question and moved to clear the table she indicated. "That we are... Though getting to visit with my younger siblings did factor into the trip"  Not too skilled at clearing tables, but he hadn't broken anything yet, so that was a bonus! Loaded up, if a bit more awkwardly than Moira, he followed in her wake with his gatherings, slipping ahead at the last moment -though it was an all too casual move- to shoulder the door open and hold it with a booted foot for her. His mother had Raised him well enough to respect women, all women. Every single one from the Weyrwoman to the lowest kitchen drudge of a cothold, they were each precious in their own way. Though Assistant Headwoman was much closer to the first than the second in his mind. Only thing above the headwoman herself were riders, and all but the Goldriders where on par with his own rank and stature, equals as it were.

"Its turned out to be an eventful trip too. My baby sister is pregnant with her first, and it turns out my little brother got himself a promotion today. Quite the shock, it was too. Made himself a roost well above his station" While the words were a bit of a jab, his voice was full of pride for his younger siblings. Even if his sister had been knocked up by a herder, and a bluerider had never been Weyrsecond.... he was proud of them. Proud enough to think about putting in for a transfer in all honesty.

[Moira]

Well, wasn't he the sweet thing, holding open the door for her? Too be truthful she'd just as well have opened it herself, because with him between her and the jam it was a bit of a squeeze. Not one to be dissuaded by little inconveniences though, the assistant headwoman gave a particularly agile twist, pulling her tray in close and slipping through the gap with nary an inappropriate touch. Sort of waste though considering the company and had she not just spent most of the morning and afternoon chaperoning this little shindig, she would've likely been a lot more interested in both appropriate and inappropriate touching. Shame.

"Ah, Shilo and A'dair then." She'd heard about the greenrider's impending child, certainly been among those surprised to find she'd be keeping it. Didn't usually fly with greens not to be up and about and Shilo was green through and through. Rather than pausing in the kitchens themselves, where drudges were minding the fires while the cooks got some rest before the evening meal. Moira slipped her tray and its contents onto one of the counters adjacent to the sinks, and turned to give Wi'sc a bit of a smile. "Yah don't much remind me of them." Which was a none too polite way of sussing out just how they were related. Though it gave her another excuse to let her gaze linger in appraisal of his figure. Yeah, no. While he was thickly built like A'dair, that was about where the comparison ended. She pressed a thoughtful finger to her lips and then with a shake of her head she turned back to the dishes.

A moment later there was a twist of the tap and warm water sloshed into the heavy stonework basin. In went soapsand and the dishes she had that were cleared. "If you want to help, clear those plates you have there."

[Wi'sc]

Wi'scknew he was in her way, just a bit, but he liked to see what the woman would do about the obstacle. He didn't try to get in her way, but he didn't exactly make it too much easier for her either. A smirk spread across his stubbled face as she slipped past him without much of a break in her stride, she was clearly used to getting the job done no matter her surroundings. A good trait in a headwoman, or her assistant. But it left him wondering if that restraint meant that she was all the more fun when she did finally let herself go.

He chuckled at her words, dipping his head in response "That would be them.... I'm the odd one out in the blood" He ran a hand through his dark hair, shrugging as he set his dishes down near hers "We share a father, H'riel of Telgar. Somehow I got my mothers hair while my sibs got our fathers blonde... I'v never complained... I'm too dark skinned for blonde hair anyhow" He bit back a smirk as her gaze lingered on him, shifting his weight slightly with the knowledge that it would cause a ripple of his muscles. Might as well give the girl a show if she was going to be bold enough to look so openly.

He smirked at her, a bit wolfishly, and started clearing plates, collecting all the mess onto one plate before shuttling it to the trash to be cleared of its new load. Slipping up beside her, he leaned over her shoulder to watch her work on the dishes. "Want me to dry then?" He was just a touch closer than was called for considering, with his height, he could see nearly over her head. But he wasn't quiet inappropriately close... yet. He'd save hat for a bit later, when she had a bit more free time on her hands

[Moira]

Her head seemed to nod in agreement while Wi'sc spoke, moderately amused by his candor. Then again, weyrfolk were of that sort, perhaps that was why they got such a bad rap when it came to their morals. They weren't too closed mouthed about the comings and goings and, well there tended to be a lot of coming. She snickered to herself at the thought and also tutted at her own train of thought. It made sense anyway that they shared a parent, and a rider no less. Probably a bronzerider too, since he'd been hopping so thoroughly around the beds. Made her wonder if there were any other siblings of the wild blonde greenrider she should be concerned about showing up.

"I agree, you'd look a shade odd in blonde." Blonde never looked good on the dark skinned, she certainly gave those who tanned so dark a sniff of the nose. Then again she was more personally fond of the dark hair, like her own thick curls. "Aren't you just a sweetheart?" She waved a hand to wear the linens were hanging, flicking a little soapy water at him in the process for looming over her as he was. Certainly hadn't known a bronzer to be quite so helpful before and she had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the cut of her blouse, not that she found that to be new. She just knew when to take proper advantage of it. Dishes tended to be tedious on ones own anyway. As she finished with each dish she'd give them a rinse and pass them off to the counter for him to dry and collect.

[Wi'sc]

Chuckling, he ran the back of his hand over his stubbled chin, clearing it of the moisture she'd splashed him with. He'd take a playful splash for his looming, it was a rather light punishment in his mind, and possibly a rather fun one if it got out of hand. Nearly left his mind wandering to greener pastures before he remembered he had a job to do. Reaching past her, he tugged a linen free and moved to intercept her first dish. He wasn't a stranger to dishes, or any other little thing that weyrbrats ended up being forced to do before they found their bond. He'd been a late impresser, nearly missing his shot, in all honesty. So he'd served more than his fare share of time behind a dishrag, or even with his hands in the wash bin.

His helpful nature was very odd for a bronzer, and most of the time, he tried to keep it under wraps and out of the limelight. But this wasn't his home, and he'd be leaving to fly back to high reaches shortly, hardly likely to return before his niece or nephew was born, if even that soon. He doubted it would harm his reputation as a bronzer to help out one woman for a short time, especially if she assumed, as most did, that the wolfish bronzer was just trying to get under their skirts. He'd had his fill of skirt lifting for the day, managed a respectable number of those little encounters, for a simple hatching feast. Though he wouldn't turn this dark haired beauty down if she made a move.

Smirking, he started stacking and organizing teh dishes by size and type, his hands hardly having to be told what to do. "Just don't tell anyone, if you don't mind... I'v got a reputation to keep up as a scoundrel and a bed-hopper, after all... For Warth, you know" Because how embarrassed would a bronze be to have a rider who was kind and sweet and helpful? -I don't mind. But then, you think we are both a bit odd in that way-