Arilynne lounges in a seat at the front of the galleries, way, way, way down there, her attention rivetted to the eggs. Far from looking ecstatic and enthralled with the ovids, this young candidate looks worried, her light brow furrowed.

Josen climbs the steps to the galleries, looking of course for a look at the eggs. Evidently, being present at clutching itself wasn't look enough. And lo and behold, there are other people here too. People he knows even. Waving to both Arilynne and Sylla, he grins. "Good day," he greets, finding a seat for himself near Aril.

Arilynne rouses from her thoughts to smile a greeting towards Josen and a nod in Sylla's direction. "Morning." Eyes alight with mischief as the Healer asks, "And how was your first night at the weyr as a candidate? I surprised you could get any sleep." Aril was a raging insomniac her first night.

Josen chuckles in response, smiling at Sylla again as if sharing a secret. Gray eyes twinkle at Arilynne quickly, and he replies, "I can sleep anywhere. My Masters used to rouse me from the benches in the courtyard. So a cot isn't a hard place to sleep at all.."

'Congratulations,' seemingly mouthes the apprentice, as she flips the sketchpad's drawing against her chest, lilt sound ending in a harsh rasp of forced sound. Such an awkward sound that Sylla grimaces slightly and turns her back to the Candidates and looks upon the sands with a discouraged gaze and helpless sigh.

Arilynne eyes Josen enviously, "Truly, anywhere?" Aril's a creature of comfort, and falling asleep just anywhere isn't possible. As it is, she has had troubles a time or two in the barracks. Weaver apprentice is noticed and waved at, "Come join us," she invites, probably due to the fact that she wants to see just /what/ Sylla's drawing.

"Yes, please join us, Sylla," Josen invites with a smile. "But yes, anywhere...my brothers used to tease me about it, actually. Falling asleep in the fields occassionally." He chuckles again, then asks, "How fares things at Weaver?"

Languidly turning her brilliant emerald gaze over her shoulder, Sylla places a hand to her chest as if to confirm that she was the person of invite. 'Me?' she mouthes, twisting her torso and leading herself into a slow-motioned turn. Then, distracted, her soft steps silence and she ducks down onto her knees and spots a young child peering at her from beneath one of the benches and chuckles. Twinkling of mirth and recognition, a pale hand is offered to the young lad who quietly creeps out from beneath his hiding place.

Arilynne just shakes her head, some people have all the luck. Hearing the weaver's name from Josen's mouth, she asks, "You know her? How is it that you know a weaver apprentice." Once again Aril's ability to know people's positions isn't a psychic gift, but instead a quick study of a knot. Rather belated, Sylla's position kicks in. "You're a Weaver!" Duh. "Would you be willing to help me with a dress?" Aril all but begs.

Josen shrugs slightly. "My sister was at Weaver for time, as an apprentice," he relates. "I met Sylla there a number of time on visits," he adds before grinning at the child. "Getting a look at the eggs?" he asks him. "Do you have a favorite?"

Sylla embraces the young boy from her knees and gives him a tender kiss upon his rounded cheeks. 'Ewwwwing', the boy snickers and hurries down the steps and disappears off into the bowl. Her eyes follow the lad down the dark corridor and inwardly chuckles, smile dimming into a spirtless grin. Shoulders lifting lightly, the apprentice sighs and slowly takes to her feet. "Wha' kind?" she forces herself to say aloud with a cracked and whispy voice, to Arilynne. To Josen, a nod answers the first of his questions, while to the latter goes a shrug.

Arilynne considers Sylla's question with a blank look. "What do you mean, what kind? Isn't a dress a dress?" Aril, it seems, has no taste and even less fashion sense. "It's to be big and orange with lovely teal trim. Won't it be pretty," she adds with a pleased giggle.

Josen flushes. "Orange and teal?" he asks. "Don't those colors clash?" he asks of Arilynne and Sylla both. He's not a fashion expert, after all, but he does know his colors.

Sylla grimaces slightly, Arilynne's taste perhaps a bit contrary her own simplicitic ones, the 'Isn't a dress a dress' comment wrinkling her nose a bit. Shaking her head, she tries to explain that there are different types of dresses but lacks the voice needed to get the point across. Shrugging, she sighs and then accepts the commission with a nod.

OOC: Sylla says "simplistic, rather."

Arilynne beams happily at Sylla, clapping her hands together with delight. "Perfect, a trader girl - Fiora, perhaps you know her - is going to drop the materials off later today. Will you be here so that I can hand them over to you?" Josen's words aren't even considered, "Clash? Of course not. Rh'esh where's orange and teal all the time." And so it becomes a fashion statement. "Oh," Aril adds for Sylla's benefit, "I'd rather like to have this dress for the celebration that'll happen after the Hatching." Aril's going to attend this one if it kills her.

s/where's/wears ... duh, I is a college student ;)

Josen nods slowly and finally begins the occupation he came here to do. Eggs are observed and he points out one of them. "See that one there?" he asks, switching the subject. "My brother said that's his favorite..."

Arilynne's gaze turns out to the Sands again, but she can't pick out which egg Josen's pointing at, they're all sort of crammed together. "Which egg," she asks for clarification. "And which is your favorite?"

Having never been one for fads, Sylla nods quietly to appease Arilynne and gives Josen a knowing wink while jotting down a rough dress outline on the back of the sketchpad. 'Which?' mouthes the apprentice to Josen as if asking which brother he's referring to. And to Arilynne, she shrugs and mouthes 'I will try.'

Tamany walks in.

Arilynne was never very good at lip reading, she's not a Harper you know. Looking startled, she jumps up and approaches the weaver, "Here, let me see to it." Aril, of course, thought Sylla said 'Oww, my eye!'

Tamany looks around from the entrance. They /told/ her to look here . . . .

Josen responds, "The littlest one. Calder. His favorite is that one there." He motions to the Singing Sword of Need Egg. "As for mine..." he muses, scratching his knee. "I'm not sure...I haven't thought about it much..." He trails off, going quiet before waving towards the incoming Master.

Emerald eyes disk the size of full marks, Sylla quickly drawing the hood of her cloak and skirting off towards the Candidates. 'Shards,' she curses softly, trying her best to act inconspicuous.

Tamany spots her quarry, and offers a wave for the lad on her way over. "Sylla, there you are." Uhhh-oh.

Arilynne's patient races off in a hurry, and Aril can do nothing but follow. "Wait, wait, let me see to that eye!" She calls. "You don't want it to get infected. It could fall out!" Eewww.

Sylla shakes her head with frustration, waving her hands in the air as if to decline the need for assistance and to the identity of being the same Sylla in question. Smiling broadly, she twists her lips into an awkward smile and quickly takes a seat off in the shadows, hoping that she'd lose the Master - /highly/ unlikely, she knows - /hoping/.

Josen watches as Sylla tries to hide, the Master tries to find, and the Journeyman tries to heal. "Pardon?" he inquires of no one in particular, having become totally lost in the conversation.

Arilynne takes Sylla's actions to mean that she's in lots and lots and lots of pain. "Wait, don't move. It could just be a bit of sand caught in it," it being Sylla's eye. "But running around will make it worse." Josen's pardon is heard and Aril turns to blink confusedly at her fellow candidate. "Hmmm?"

Tamany has seen her prey, though, and closes for the kill. "Silly girl," she says, reaching out and laying hold of Sylla's shoulder. "You. Sit."

Sylla plays dead, every muscle in the woman's body tensing beneath Tamany's all-too-well-known grasp. "Uhhmmmm.." she groans, not wanting to look over the drawn hood of the cloak to the glare she knows to be there, looking onto Arilynne with a pitiful glance.

Arilynne comes up behind Tamany and nods, "And stay. Now which eye is it? I'm a Healer you know," she adds, as if that will make everything /all/ better. "And well, if you can't see, how would you be able to make my dress?"

OOC: Tamany kinda waits for Josen to return.

Josen watches the operation and decides to tell a story, since he is a Harper. "You know, my brother, Jaron, once had something in his eye for a couple of days. Drove him and all the rest of family crazy for a few days, because we couldn't see anything in there but he complained all the same." He turns in his seat, continuing. "Finally, Da took him to the Healer at Telgar, and she found something in his eye really quick. You know..at the place close to your nose." He even points to it to illustrate.

Tamany turns briefly from Sylla towards the Harper. "And what happened then?" Sylla, watch and listen and learn. Tamany starts tapping her fingers on Sylla's shoulder.

Sylla drops her head with a pathetic groan of distress, lids closing lightly as she rolls her head from side to side like any good dead man would. 'Why me??' her thin lips move, face from sight and shoulders drooped. 'Why me?' she continues to repeat in the back of her mind, there her voice is pitiful and whiney, though here not a sound could be heard of her cry for help.

Arilynne nods her head as Josen's story supports her own beliefs. "Exactly, and he lost his eye, didn't he. It just *plop* fell out." Oy, poor Sylla get's Aril for a healer. The apprentice's mouth is noticed, but Aril still can't read lips and so interprets the motion as 'right eye'. "Right eye, your right eye? Okay, hold still, I'm going to look." Although Aril's sadly unprepared, her glowstick packed snugly away in her clothespress.

Josen smiles, trying to add a bit of levity to the situation. "Well, she took a needle and really carefully touched it to what she saw and pulled it out. Turns out it was just one speck of dirt. One tiny speck causing all that irritation," he finishes up. "But his eye didn't fall out, no," he adds with another chuckle.

Tamany allows a little pressure to fall on Sylla's shoulder. Poor Sylla. "Just a little speck of dirt, huh? All that over a little speck of dirt? Wow."

Lucky for Sylla, Arilynne doesn't have any needles present either. Aril with a needle, oooh, scary! "It didn't fall out," she repeats, frowning at Josen. "Well then, what was the point of the story?" Huff. Really, if there's no gore there's no story. Sylla is approached and Aril instructs the girl, "No open you eyes wide and look up."

s/no/now

From behind the heavy cloak, Sylla begins to suffocate in the stale air, forcing herself to lift the hood and avoid eye-contact with the Master of doom.. /her/ mentor. Clearing her throat, she coughs and winces under the pressure of Tamany's grip-- not that it's a terribly painful grip but because of what it stands for.

Tamany lets her fingers tap out a tempo on poor Sylla's shoulder. Hmmm, maybe she should've been a Harper? Naaaah. "You will do what the Healer says," she announces to the room at large. This is what they summoned her for.

Josen shrugs slightly. "I think the point is that a little irritation can be the cause of a lot of problems," he replies. "After all, Jaron never got in as many fights as he did when that dirt was in his eye.."

Sylla turns to face her mentor - Tamany - with a pleading gaze, brows furrowed slightly as she shakes her head. 'Noo.. pleease.. noooo...' she whimpers in an inaudible whimper that the Master should be use to by now. Golden hair bouncing from side to side and pale hands threatening to tug upon the woman's sleeve.

Arilynne ahs, that moral that was so clear to everyone else has to be explained to the Healer. "Well yes, that makes sense." Josen is given a beam of approval, "You can be my assistant any time you like," she offers happily before turning to study Sylla's eye. But it keeps moving. Aril's head follows the motion before she gives up and cups Sylla's turning head between her hands to hold it still. "That's better, now look up, down, left and then right."

Tamany doesn't smile, no. Honest. Not even a little smirk, nope. "Stop making that noise, Sylla, and let her do her work." That hand rests /so/ competently on the girl's shoulder, ready to grip if necessary. A promise.

Josen laughs. "No, thank you, Aril. I have enough crafts...I think being a Healer's assistant would just be too much information for my head," he answers cheerfully. "But thanks again..." That said, his inquires of Sylla, "Are you holding up alright?" It seems as if she's not, though.

Sylla's emerald orbs disk in surprise, hands batting and trying to pry the woman's hands from her face. Whimpering, she gives her heads a few shakes and semi-rotates her shoulders in a shrug. 'Stop.. Stop../STOP/!' she mouthes, the last of her silent please breaking the air with a high-pitched and indecipherable screach.

Tamany winces, though her hand never wavers.

OOC: Sylla will repose fer clarification. :)

Sylla's emerald orbs disk in surprise, hands batting and trying to pry Arilynne's hands from her face. Whimpering, she gives her heads a few shakes and semi-rotates her shoulders in a shrug, to free herself of Tamany. 'Stop.. Stop../STOP/!' she mouthes, the last of her silent please breaking the air with a high-pitched and indecipherable screach.

Tamany winces, though her hand on Sylla's shoulder never wavers.

Arilynne hears that final 'stop' and glances at Sylla in surprise. "You don't want me to look at your eye? But it'll fall out if I don't." Aril's sure of it. Hands still cup the apprentice's face, but their hold loosens as the Healer wavers.

"It'll hurt more if they leave it in," Josen cautions. "If you just relax, I'm sure she'll have it out quickly enough..." Arilynne is a Journeyman Healer, after all. He offers another smile, trying to comfort the girl.

Tamany ducks to take a look at Sylla's face. The practiced eyes of a mother peer quickly at Sylla's own, then turn their attention towards the Healer. "There's nothing in her eyes, but I wager she'll need something to drink." She turns toward Josen. "You, lad, could you please find something for Sylla to drink?"

Sylla gives a snorted sigh, and sits there, defeated by the very silence she'd wished for just a few months prior-- only her wish was twisted, the people around her speaking when they were to silence. Such is the way of her ailment, for two months, at least.

Josen inclines his head towards Tamany. "Sure thing. I'll be back soon," he replies, getting up. "Glad there's nothing in your eye, though, Sylla," he adds before he waves to the lot of them and heads for the lower caverns.

Arilynne accepts Tamany's words, mothers always know best. "Oh good," she smiles with relief and settles down rather quickly, plopping in a seat close to both the weavers. "It really is disgusting when an eye falls out," she goes on to explain in gory detail. "It leaks, and there's blood, and well, the eye socket never looks very nice without an eye in it."

Josen walks down the stairs to the entrance.

Sylla grumbles, mouthing 'Eyes /don't/ fall out!' to the healer Candidate with every other syllable a whispy screach. Fingers fidget with the hem of her cloak, the apprentcie weaver thinking of an escape plan.

Arilynne just blinks at Sylla in wonder, having interpreted her last bout of mumbling as 'Spies won't call out.' Looking at Tamany, the healer just shakes her head sadly. "Now she's mumbling nonsense. I do think she's rather fatigued, and who could blame her with all that dashing and head shaking and such?" Worried gaze includes Sylla as she asks in a matronly tone, which for Aril is /very/ odd. "You feeling okay? Don't forget about my dress."

Oh, here's a topic to warm Tamany's heart. "Dress? Sylla's making you a dress? Oh, that's just wonderful!" She beams at Arilynne, then turns that glowing face to Sylla. "Tell me all about it, would you?" Ooooooh.

Buroughs appears at the top of the stairs in the very back of the galleries.

Tamany hovers near Sylla, a hand laid protectively on the apprentice's shoulder. Her face glowing, she seems to be listening to something very important to her.

Buroughs enters the back of the gallaries, and sees a crowd before him...He hesitates, before moving forward. "Hello!" He greast all.

Arilynne is settled next to both weavers, looking rather concerned for Sylla.

Josen appears at the top of the stairs in the very back of the galleries.

Sylla coolly narrows her eyes at her cruel mentor and points a finger towards her throat with one hand and flourishing the motion of a large gather gown with the other.

Josen returns finally, cup of citron juice in hand. Moving closer, he offers the cup to Sylla. "I didn't know what you wanted, so I got you juice. I hope you don't mind," he explains before nodding to the rest of the persons gathered in the Galleries.

Buroughs wanders down the steps of the Gallaries, then notices the commotion. "OH! Did I interupt anything?"

Tamany manages a blush. "Oh, yes. Of course, your voice. Umm, well, from what you've . . . gestured, I'm sure it'll be lovely." She turns at Josen's approach. "Ahh, thank you." She smiles at the young lad.

Arilynne adds embellishment to Sylla's virtual drawing. "Oh yes, she promised. And it's going to be Istan orange with a lovely teal trim." Just talking about this dress has Aril delighted. "And she's," she being Sylla, "Going to make me the prettiest dress in the weyr." Aril beams with pride, so what if that latter fact came out of the healer's own imagination. In Aril's little world, Sylla actually agreed to it.

Sylla leans forward and sniffs at the citron juice, nose wrinkled and fingers debating whether or not to accept the mug. She sighs, imaginining the glare she'd get from Tamany, the fingers Arilynne would stick down her throat, and the disappoinment in Josen's face. Taking the mug, she manages a smile.

Josen smiles in returns before going back to his seat. "There's no commotion," he informs Buroughs. "Well, not anymore.."

Buroughs just stands a little ways back, looking confused, and puzzled. "Oh. Ok. What did I miss." He give Sylla a concerned look.Tamany blinks at the description Aril's giving, especially the colors, but . . . well . . . "I'm sure it'll be lovely."

Sylla does what she's become quiet good at, sighs, and pushes herself onto her feet to remove her cloak. Having done so, she reaches out a hand and gestures for Arilynne to stand, free hand fishing within the discarded cloak for her measuring string. Personally, she doesn't care much for the colors but it's a commission.

Josen chuckles and responses, "Well, Aril there thought Sylla got something in her eye, so there was an exam. But that's about it." Heh, right. After a moment's thought, he inquires, "Do you we all have to go to the after Hatching party?"

Tamany frees Sylla from her grasp, now that the girl seems to be cooperating. She smiles, nods, generally exudes pleased pride in her protege.

Arilynne looks like the kitten who's been in the cream, utterly satisfied. "Of course it will, I have faith in your apprentice." Master's knot is noted as well as apprentices. No mind reading for Aril, it's all in the knots, baby. Sylla's gestures, for once, aren't misunderstood and Aril rises, standing somewhat awkwardly. Josen's question is noted with relief, "It's tradition," she calls back, making that up, but Aril really would like Josen to be there to keep her company.

Buroughs shrugs. "I'm not sure...I think so, but then I wasn't even in the weyr for the last clutch that was here." He shrugs difidently.

Tamany chips in, turning to find a seat. "If you're here for the Hatching, it's only good manners to go to the after-Hatching party, as well.Tamany *"

Sylla looks over to Tamany and holds out a couple crimson colored string which is knotted to measure the bodice for her Master's assistance. 'Please,' she mouthes to her mentor, setting the hemp ropes upon the floor beside a moderate lengthed green and a loooong blue one.

Sylla * s/string/strings

Tamany leans over for the strings, pulling out her everpresent notepad and marking down the measurements. Always good to keep your hands in on the menial things like this.

Josen hmms to himself then notes, "I suppose it's good that I have a good change of clothes with me then." They aren't new, of course, but they'll serve the purpose. He smiles, please that he thought to bring them with him.

Arilynne is watching Sylla nervously, and please is translated incorrectly again. "Tease? Tease what? I'm not a tease," she refutes hotly. "Ask Rh'esh, ask Gabe." Uh-oh, does that mean Aril's an all-the-way sorta girl? So much for her wholesome appearance.

Tamany peers over at Arilynne, a slight frown forming at the girl's words. But she keeps her council to herself -- for now.

Josen says nothing about teases, real or imagined. A faint flush even cover his cheeks, but that just must be the heat getting to him. Instead, he turns back towards the Sands, and asks of Buroughs, "Which is your favorite egg?"

Sylla takes the green rope and stretches it as far as her arms can manage to ease kinks before she takes one end and wraps it about Arilynne's waist. Then with a few fingers holding the rope in place, she uses her teeth and free hand to knot the appropriate length. Feeding more slack, she uses the free hand to wrap one about the woman's hips and knots it there. Now, the third knot is the easiest to make, snapping the rope straight, she takes the end opposite and measures from hip to floor. Three knots made, she brings the rope to Tamany to help figure measurements.

Sylla grumbles, and turns a glance to Arilynne and hisses 'Dimglow..' in silence, air only heard.

Buroughs just rolls his eyes, as if he has come to expect this sort of thing from Arilynne. But frowns at Sylla, as if he had expected better, perhaps something more professional. "Ah, this is the dress, you're getting made from the matierial you were haggaling over last night?" Just getting his sequence of evenst strait.

Tamany marks down the lengths and where they go, watching the girl work. "Trained her myself, I did," she murmurs to the newcomer.

Arilynne heard that one rather well, and in return sticks out her tongue at the apprentice. "You're the one calling me names," she sniffs before turning her attention towards Buroughs, nodding happily. "Yes, Fiora's delivering the cloth today and I was lucky enough to come upon this weaver..." and then Aril pauses, realizing she doesn't even know the apprentices name. Nor her master's. "Erm," and here she holds out her hand awkwardly, introducing herself. "I'm Arilynne, by the way."

Tamany makes another notation on her pad, then holds out her own hand. "Tamany, and this is Sylla," she adds, sparing her apprentice's voice.

Had Burough been around earlier, he'd understand poor Sylla's frustration. However, he wasn't and must now go on what knowledge he knows of recent events. Shaking Arilynne's hips from side to side, she tries to figure how much room she'll have to give herself to work with. Rolling her eyes, she blows a wisp of hair from her face with a simple sigh. 'I'm sorry,' she mouthes, thinking 'Of, course, she'd hear /that/.'

Josen recieves no response, but shrugs that off. It's a rather uninteresting question, to tell the truth, and the situation behind him is much more intriguing. A hand brushes through his hair before he notes, "Her name is Sylla."

Tamany looks at the lad, canting her head in concentration. "And you're Josen, right? I thought you looked familiar. It's been a while since we met -- one of those parties down at Ista Hold."

Buroughs nods, and turns to Josen, ignoring the weavers and Arilynne, after giving Sylla an appologetic grimace. "So where do you herald from, Josen?"

Arilynne's hips shake rather stiffly, first one way then the other. "Well met Master Tamany, Sylla," she returns properly before casting a glance Buroughs direction, "Did you have a favorite egg," she echos Josen's question curiously. Aril thinks that Sylla mouthed an apology, but even if she didn't, the Healer is going to take it as such. "Ah, no worries," she waves off magnanimously. "We both know that I'm not really a dimglow." But Sylla's still a namecaller.

Bending over, to Josen, Sylla turns a smile from behind the healer Candidate's legs and fishes for the crimson ropes. Appropriate ropes in hand, she begins to measure the three differnt bodice zones and leaving the marking to Tamany, tying the ends still with the special ropes. Blue rope fetched next, she ties Arilynne's neck for the first measurement and then moves onto measuring armspans.

Josen smiles at the Weaver Master, and nods. "Yeah, that's me." He grins again before answering the other question posed to him. "Me? Oh, originally from the Telgar Hold area," he answers Buroughs. "What about you? Where are you from?" One good turn deserves another.

Buroughs grins. "Nerat, before coming here. But I wandered all over the place, before ending up in fort, then here."

Stepping back, Sylla arches a brow as she absorbs the woman's features and tries to set them to memory. Turning to her mentor, she makes seemingly odd gestures to those who are both not weavers and haven't had to deal with the voiceless apprentice. To the Master weaver, she makes a few motions that could be read as neckline ideas and then steps over to Arilynne and waves her hands in a 'Please excuse me.' motion and peeks at the top portion of the woman's chest as if to see how bad the tan was. Seeing that it was too bad, she uses her index fingers and presses them against her chest to signify a Vee neckline and to see if that's what the Candidate wanted.

Sylla * s/was too bad/wasn't too bad

Arilynne pulls out her tunic a bit to check her... ah tan line as well. Vee shape is noted, and Sylla is becoming easier to understand or perhaps Aril's just learning to interpret better. "Yes, I think I'd like that," she agrees happily. "With lots and lots of little bows attached to make me look pretty." Lots and lots and lots of bows and flounces. Oy, Aril's going to be a walking birthday cake.

Tamany nods approval at Sylla's neckline plans, making the appropriate notes on her pad. "Good idea, Sylla. Very nice, yes."

Josen grins. "Nerat? Really? What's it like there?" he asks curiously. "I've never been there, just Telgar, Ista, Fort and Southern Boll." Just.

Myonsaou appears at the top of the stairs in the very back of the galleries.Myonsaou smiles as she walks into the galleries, with a bouncy kinda step to herself "Wow, everyone's here" she walks over to the crowd "Hiya Buroughs" she doesn't seem to be rude so she introduces herself to everyone else "Hi everyone, my name is Myonsaou, or Myon as most people call me"

Sylla shakes her head at Arilynne, perhaps thinking that the bows would be a bit much and moves her arms down from the torso to the hips in a slendering motion. 'Tapered..' she suggests in her no-sound talk and ducks behind the Candidate to note the demensions of her back.

Myonsaou giggles "Buroughs what are you doing with the Tuber Cookies?! Did you hear that crazy rumor about me being the Brigand?" she can't help but laugh "Me? Anyone thinking I'm the one that ran you over and pelted you with shoes?" she laughs and slowly walks over brushing a piece of hair out of her grassy colored eyes.

Tamany spares Myon a glance and a companionable nod. "Master Tamany, of Weaver Hall," she adds, then goes back to assisting her apprentice, Sylla.

Myonsaou smiles "Ahh well met Master Tamany" she bows her head and bends a little bit at the waist.

"Arilynne," the healer returns Myonsaou's greeting whilst in the midst of getting measured for a dress she commissioned. Sylla's headshake is noticed, and the candidate pouts. "But I /like/ bows. Lots and lots of them," she whines. "All over."

Buroughs answers with diginty. "I do not have them"

Myonsaou giggles "Bur don't give em to me.. Tuber Cookies are gross!" she smiles "Well met Arilynne" she sighs and drops the cookies "I don't want em"

Myonsaou drops Tuber Cookies.

Tamany clears her throat for Arilynne's benefit. "I once heard a very wise woman say, 'less is more'. If you cover yourself with bows, how will anyone see /you/?"

The girl adds "I like my cookies better" she grins then sets the cookies on a nearby table.

Josen introduces himself as well. "I'm Josen," he begins before wincing as Arilynne asks for bows. "Hey, Aril, you know, my sister say that simplicity is best, because it's always more flattering. What if you put a bow in your hair to tie it back instead?" he suggests. He's just trying to lessen the horror of the dress.

Sylla lifts her shoulders in a shrug and rakes her fingers through her hair while contemplating further measurements. Untying the red ropes, the apprentice notes a few odds and ends that only a weaver would notice; one arm slightly longer than the other and things of that nature. Sighing, she motions her hands downward in a 'please hear me out' sort of fashion and pulls her hair up with one hand and motions the other in a bow tying affect.

Myonsaou raises an eyebrow at the drees and looks at it "What color is it supposed to be? I think maybe a blue dress would go well, or maybe even a greenish to accent her eyes?

She doesn't seem to just come out of nowhere but she always adds her own bit.

Buroughs realizes he hasn't intorduced himself to the weavers. "I'm Buroughs." He states simply. "Orange and Teal."

Tamany offers, "Blue or greenish would be marvelous, but that isn't what she desires."

Myonsaou shrugs and looks at the bright color "Maybe crimson atleast?" she smiles.

Arilynne's ability to read Sylla's actions has abandoned her suddenly and she glances at the weaver with a weird look, the bow tying hand looking as if the weaver is calling Aril looney. Which isn't a wrong assumption... at least not completely. "I'm not crazy," she wails, heartbroken at the insult. "Just because I like bows. Lots of people like bows. Fiona likes lots and lots of bows." Aril's seen the weyrwoman's pink gown, she knows. Aril beams as her dress colors are announced, pride evident in her form and crocodile tears forgotten. "Yes, won't it just be divine?"

Myonsaou smiles "Well the dress is nice in a way, but not too many bows, just 'cause it may add too much.. poofiyness" she shrugs "But it is her decision, I love making my own /loud/ statements too"

Tamany coughs. She's seen Fiona's pink gown, as well. "Well, yes, Fiona likes lots of bows." Yegads, that gown. "But then, Fiona was not very happy as a Weaver."

Josen's words are noted and Arilynne returns to sniffing. "But one bow just isn't enough." Simplicity, what wacko developed that idea. "There have to be lots and lots and lots of them. Everywhere. That's what makes a gown look pretty." Poor Aril, fashion nitwit.

Josen has seen Fort WeyrWoman too, but doesn't know why anyone would try to emulate her. "I didn't say you were crazy," he consoles the Healer. And he didn't even mention that she has bad taste in formal wear. But he'll not poke his nose into fashion anymore, nope.

Sylla slaps her right hand upon her forehead and groans. "Hair bow," she forces herself to say, face reddened and looking as if she were trying to scream when only a quiet shriek spoke the apprentices words. Immediately coughing afterwords, she reaches for the nearby mug of citron juice and sips.

Arilynne blinks at Myonsaou, refuting the girl's statement. "Oh no, it's going to be quite a demure little gown. I don't want to stand out, really," she confides.

Myonsaou smiles "Ahh yes, maybe a sleek and short formfitting dress, in red of course. It would be very shapely and attractive" the girl smiles dreaming the dress in her headBuroughs leans back, against the rails....Shuddering at each new mentioned frill. "I don't know about /you/, but I had an older sister, and she said that simple was better, and to many frills, look ghastly...In my opinion they do too." Foot in mouth time

S'lad appears at the top of the stairs in the very back of the galleries.

Arilynne sniffs in Buroughs's direction. "What do you know," she counters. "You're a boy. Boy's no nothing about fashion." Nor does Aril, it seems, but she plows on anyways, patiently explaining, "The bows are accents, you know. They help people admire a dress even more if there are lots and lots of them. I want to be admired," she finishes with a pout.

Tamany only nods, offering the silent support of a masterweaver for the 'simplicity' school of thought.

Tamany adds, "What a pity Prussin's not here." She winks at Sylla. "He's got a fine future ahead of him, you know, designing ladies' fashions. Especially those delicious gather gowns . . . ." A glance at Aril.

Myonsaou hmms "Okay Aril, I may be still young, but guys do like looking at a woman's figure right?" she waits for the answer, her eyes swirling a magnificent green as she tries to cunn the candie to agree.

Buroughs chuckles. "Well, my opinion is shared by my oldest sister, my mother, and my twin. All three /women/"

S'lad spots the group of Candidates in the galleries and starts to make the climb up the steps to join them.

Josen blushes. Okay, looking at ladies' figures is a quiet pastime, but not rudely or anything. "Uh, Aril," he begins, venturing back again to the dreaded subject. "Do what you want. But if you'd like my advice, if we all are trying to convince you not to go with a lot of bows, maybe other people will too..."

Arilynne is rather lacking in a full figure, so isn't quite sure. "Ummm.. if you say so Myon," she replies before turning her attention towards Tamany, "Prussin? Delicious gather gowns?" Edible gather gowns? Oooh, Aril wants one of those!

Sylla's quiet chuckles silence at the sight of the greenrider, she's almost certain that she's seen him before. 'Yes.' she mouthes to Tamany with a smirk, looking over Arilynne with a curious expression, half wondering if the girl knew how to walk in heels.

Tamany blinks. "Edible? Uh, no, not edible. Just . . . well, they're so . . . um. Never mind."

Myonsaou looks over at the rider giving a qucik wave then looks back "Okay, so if you have something with a bunch of bows they're not going to be able to see any form. I think if the Weavers take in the dress and no bows, with a sort of strappy shoulder like thing and thin straps criss-crossing in the back it would look completely gorgeous and /demure/ on you" the young girl barely even knows the meaning of that word but oh well.

Arilynne pauses at Josen's words, everyone's opinion finally penetrating that thick skull of hers. "No one here likes bows?" Sniff. Sniff. Wah! "But why not, they're so pretty." S'lad is noticed and Aril hopes to find a friend in the crowd, "You like bows don't you," she asks the rider pathetically.

S'lad quirks at hearing the question directed at him as he approaches the group, "Bows? Sure, but not too many. A well placed bow can make any outfit look splendid."

Tamany allows herself a quiet smile. At last, sense prevails. "Exactly. Bows, my dear, are accents, not the main dish." To the rider, she extends her hand. "Tamany, well met."

Arilynne does not know how to walk in heels, nor would you really want to get her into a pair. Boots, boots is what Aril knows how to wear. "Not edible," she repeats, deflating. "Well then, that's not interesting, is it." Poor Prussin, Aril really means no offense, she just doesn't think. "Thin straps, strappy shoulder," the healer repeats Myon's words with horror. "There's nothing demure about that!"

Myonsaou smiles "Ahh but Arilynne we can put two bows, neatly placed upon the shoulder straps to accent the dress, that way it can be added, and maybe one in the arch of your back too"

Josen thinks of something. "What about one big bow? In the back...It'll be teal, and its end tail will become your train..." That's a compromise, right?

Sylla pats S'lad on the shoulder then turns a nod to Arilynne with a single finger poised up, as if to draw attention to the singular usage of the word. 'One.' she mouthes, pointing to her head and making the strange hair bow motion.

Arilynne beams at S'lad, only hearing what she wants to hear. "See, he likes bows." So nyah. "Lots and lots of bows. Bows everywhere." So Aril has a bow fetish, does that make her a bad person?

S'lad smiles at Tamany, "S'lad, rider of Green Ylaenth. I hope all is going well for each of you since your arrivals?" he asks the group in general.

Buroughs rolls his eyes at Aril, but gives up on the argument. "It has been going very well, for me S'lad, greenrider."

Josen grins at S'lad. "Well." It's nice to see another familiar face here. "How are you?" he asks in return, his manners kicking in.

Arilynne once again misinterprets Sylla's motion. "I am not looney," she reiterates. "Bows are our friends." Perhaps Aril's going to start a new trend... Faranth forbid. "People don't use enough of them. I must," and here Aril's hazel eyes light up with glee, "I must be a trendsetter!" Aiee!

Myonsaou smiles "But Aril he said not too many how does 3 sound? Or maybe even a small belt around a short fitting dress of bows. I can make it" she looks over to the rider and nods "Ahh well met S'lad" she barely heard that "I am Myonsaou, also known as Myon" she sighs throwing her hands up "Oh yes, you'd bbe a trendsetter, no one else on Pern has a belt of bows and a ravishing red dress with straps in the back"

S'lad chuckles at the girl with the bow-fetish, then nods to Josen, "I'm doing just fine, Josen. A little quiet for me now, though."

Tamany just sighs, and gives a little high-sign to Sylla. Just a twitch of the fingers, but they've kinda worked out a system, after all. (Let her have her way.) She sighs.

Buroughs snorts onces an mutters low. "If you wear that thing, no one's going to see you for the dress." Would this be bad? Might be a humbling experience for her.

Arilynne smiles at her bow supporter, S'lad. "Arilynne," she introduces belatedly. "And everyone has been so nice to me, I'm even getting a new gown." Which explains Aril's awkward stance and Sylla's measuring as well as the current bow conversation.

Having never been one for listening, Sylla decides that she'll compromise the bow thing and figure a middle-ground for the two of them to come to terms with. After the fact, of course. Waving her hands in a huffy sort of motion, she tries to get Arilynne to move a bit to the right so that she could untie a stubborn knot.

Tamany shrugs Arilynne off as a lost cause. The poor girl's obviously been addlpated -- must be all those fumes she deals with as a Healer.

S'lad smirks, "Speaking of bows, and how too many bows would look silly, can any of you imagine what a dragon with bows would look like?"

Myonsaou still rather short looks up to Aril "Whadda ya think 'bout that? It would look really good, I could even do it by tomorrow or the day after, if I can get your measurements? I really have a good idea for it.. and then we could put a ring of flowers in your hair, white daisys" she wishes she would grow faster so she could wear a dress as beautiful as the one she's thinking of.

Buroughs shudders. "Um, that depends on how many." He says cautiously.

Sylla couldn't because she's too busy thinking about having to make all the material for the bow. Shuddering, she forces a smile.

Tamany turns toward the greenrider. "A dragon wearing bows?" She grins. "Oh my, why do you ask? Has your lifemate shown a sudden interest in bows?"

Arilynne clasps her hands at the image S'lad's words evoke, not moving to the right for poor Sylla. "Why she'd be bea/uuuu/tiful," she sighs with delight. "Absolutely gorgeous."

Tamany chuckles. "Y'know, Fi's firelizard had a little bow he'd play with. He looked absolutely ridiculous with it."

S'lad quirks at Buroughs, then chuckles at Tamany, "No, no.. she'd have a fit if anyone tried to dress her in bows. I think just about any dragon would."

Josen chuckles. "No, but I think S'era was plotting something like that for her lifemate.." Getting to his feet again, he begins to pick his way out of the Galleries. "I should go, actually..I'm sure I'll see you all around.."

S'lad nods and waves to Josen.

Myonsaou puts her hand on her forehead thinking, poor dragon that finds Arilynne, she forces a bit of a smile then just shruggs thinking about another dress, with yes Bows! she looks over waving to Josen "Bye," she brushes more flaming hair out of her spring shaded eyes.

Arilynne smiles kindly down at Myon, not wanting to hurt the girl's feelings. "Well yes, that sounds... lovely." One someone else, not Aril's style. "But, well, I've already asked Sylla here to make my dress for me. She's a weaver." Poor, poor, Sylla.

Tamany turns toward Sylla. "If you would finish up here, I'll go arrange for a direct flight for both of us back home. And you will /not/ get out again until you've been cleared by our own Healers." The Voice of Authority.

Myonsaou shrugs "Yeah, maybe soon I'll be able to make my one dress" she walks over looking out on the sands staring dreamily at the eggs.

Sylla turns to Tamany and nods, hands full of colorful and knotted ropes. 'Next seven-day..' she mutters to Arilynne as she follows her mentor out