Crowd Control (tag: Lotty)

[tarra]

(OOC> For Raebeli! )


The growing night brought with it more noise, more people; more general Gather hustle and bustle. It was hard to move in the growing press, let alone get anywhere, so S'kor stood alone near the Meat Stalls and their roastfire spits. The glow of their fires reflected glowing sparks in his pale hazy-brown eyes. It was well past dinner, and this place was, if anything, quiet, near-empty even. The bronzerider was not hungry though he had yet to eat, and an afternoon exploring the Gather had left him worn enough that he was content simply to stand and stare for a moment. The dancing flames before him brought back memories of another evening, one still fresh in his mind. Three lit candles by the glistening flow of a river; a thin wail, then a scream. He blinked away the sounds, and found Morreliath's mind waiting for him.

Remembering again?

It was only two days ago. I won't forget so quickly.

Morreliath did not reply, and S'kor glanced out at the empty black spaces around the Gather - black save for the round glints of dragon eyes, watching their mindmates at the Gather. No telling where the big bronze was in that murky darkness. He would come when it was time to return to the Weyr, but no sooner. He turned his gaze back to the fire, and sighed.

You disapprove.

There was silence a moment, Not really. A recent event is remembered, naturally. But one much further back should be forgotten.

Yes, but some things are just...hard, to forget.

Well, I cannot fault you. This Gather is for the dead, for remembering them: maybe that is why you are like this,there was amusement in the bronze's voice, I cannot understand why people want to remember the dead, but a Gather is fun and that is good.

A soft smile wound over the bronzerider's features, showing more in his eyes than in his lips, Never heard you give up an argument so easily before; but you're right. I'll have to let go sooner or later.

So strange too, that when I don't argue with you, you agree at once the bronze's tone held a hint of irony. S'kor chuckled.

Sometimes...when you let go, you find.

Indeed. Is that your idea, or mine?

I must be echoing your thoughts, he smiled wryly, Now, I think I'll have to risk the crowds. I still need that pair of boots, and the crowds'll get busier the later it is. Don't suppose you'd care to clear a path for me?

If I could land there, I would. But there is no space, and the violence to do so would send us both into exile.

Fine then, I'll find a way.

The task, when he contemplated it, was daunting. Most of the crowd was concentrated around the large tent of masks and bone items, but the Weaver and Leather Stalls had their share of people too. And to get to them he would have to pass the big black tent of bones with its sea of humanity swirling in, out and around it. It was enough to make one go straight back to the roastfires and chew on meats for the rest of the night. Folding his arms, the bronzerider cocked his head at the crowds and began to think concisely on the best way for trudging through them without being elbowed to death.

[Lotty]

He was not alone. Well...obviously because he was at a gather, but rather he would not be left alone. A certain someone had laid her eyes on him, and really when she warmed up to you, she was a bit hard to get rid of...

"People watching?"

A voice peeped up from behind the bronzerider. If he were to turn around he would catch the undying smile of the Selenitas' favorite mindhealer. Everybody loved Rae.

"Not sure that is the best place to do it in..." of course she knew that he probably wasn't "people watching" per say, but still she figured it was a better opener than accusing him of having a slew of mental maladies. After all, she couldn't go around diagnosing the poor man after just a glance - even if it was a little odd to just stand around looking at a big mass of people, and this was sort of a red flag for the girl who was trained to have a sharp eye for emotions and actions. She had to feel him out first, give him a chance.

She herself had been on her way to the tanner's leather stall. She had presents to buy and deals to make. Oh yes, deals. She didn't look it, but she was a master haggler. Though a generous gift giver, she was also a fiend for a good deal, and took the challenge of sales shopping to the next level. She had actually just been at some other stalls overlooking their selection of trinkets and kitsch, which pretty much were her favorite things. Now, that actually wasn't much of a surprise; one look at the bubbly little journeywoman and her colorful wardrobe gave that away.

Now it would be rude to go without an introduction wouldn't it? Her smile widened as she offered out her hand for him to shake. Even with all of the hustle and bustle around them, she wasn't above stopping for a moment, "I'm Raebeli by the way..." She didn't outright ask for his name in return, he could give it as he pleased, though she was hoping he would oblige.

[tarra]

S'kor's mind was fully on the task before him, picking the smoothest routes through the crowd, the clearest paths. He prided himself as being a man of action and works, and not one of those harper sorts who were so given to excessive reading and brooding that they never moved beyond the library all their lives. But life with Morreliath was not something that lent itself to to leaping before one looked - or to doing before one knew what one was doing - and from long habit he was now inclined to consider a clear strategy before he made any move. The fact that he had Impressed his bronze from an impulsive action was very much forgotten. Quiet eyes scanned the crowds, noting their flow and the general directions they took. With a final sigh, he made his decision and started on the first step forward.

"People watching?"

The strange voice stopped him mid-step, and he glanced over a shoulder to see who it was. A young woman stood, her face somewhat familiar and her smile even more so. It was impossible to ignore that bright smile, and with just the hint of one himself he turned to face her, a question lingering in his hazy brown eyes. She spoke again before he could.

"Not sure that is the best place to do it in..."

S'kor looked down at her, trying to recall where he had seen her before. She was from the Weyr, he was sure of it - only those of the Weyr could elicit the sense of familiarity he now felt at the sight of her blue eyes and dark brown hair. Just where he had seen her before, however, was an unknown. Her impetuous manner might have been offensive if not for her genuine (and big) smile; at any rate, S'kor was not one to be easily offended, his patience outstripping any temper that might flare at being interrupted on the verge of doing something else. He dug once more into his memory for her name, and failed to pull up anything. Morreliath, unusually, was silent on the topic, though the bronzerider was certain he could see everything from wherever he was. Blinking in annoyance, he was about to ask for an introduction when she saved him the trouble by doing so herself.

"I'm Raebeli by the way..."

Ah, yes, now he remembered - there were few who did not know the Weyr's mindhealer, whether by face or by reputation. S'kor had never met her personally, but he certainly knew her name. Her hand was reaching for his, and with a smile of his own he raised his palm to take it into a cordial handshake. Friendliness was rarely, if ever, discouraged around the bronzerider. He was a gentleman - particularly around the ladies - and never missed a chance to show it despite Morreliath's aloofness around the green or blue riders.

"S'kor, of bronze Morreliath," he returned as he released her hand, "Not really people-watching; more like people-observing, I was trying to find a way to the tanner's stall."

He chuckled down at her (she wasn't quite as tall as him, and it was easy to look down at her), "You're out to enjoy the Gather too, I assume?"

[Lotty]

"Well it's nice to meet you..." it was always nice to meet anyone, but a polite bronzerider was an extra special treat. Not that there weren't others in the weyr - she could think of at least one who was so wrapped up in formalities and etiquette that he was borderline obsessive - but it just seemed so novel when the riders didn't have to be so nice at all. As much as she was a journeywoman, she was still exactly that, a woman, and being of Northern stock like she was, she certainly didn't expect to be treated with anything other than niceness as a thin veneer. Not that these old rules every dissuaded her from being forward and unabashedly friendly with everyone regardless of gender or race. The slow Southern drawl of the land only encouraged her in this way.

Still smiling, she reclaimed her hand, and briefly looked to her shoulder only to realize that there was no need to introduce her usual feathered friend. Cap'n had been left behind at the weyr where hopefully he wouldn't get into too much trouble. Not that the large darter ever tried to, he just had a thing for revenge. Should he feel slighted by being left behind he might take it out on her hidework or go hunting some poor weyrfolk's pets down. Hopefully the avian wouldn't take being left too personally - she couldn't tote him with her through between after all and she kind of wanted to enjoy the gather without worrying about Cap'n getting into any messes like he did at the last salamandyr hatching, because she really truly did love gathers.

"Oh yes...I have a soft spot for them...all the little trinkets and such. Plus the people you know...everyone acts so differently at gathers. I find it fascinating," which shouldn't be surprising. Everything involving people and their behaviors interested the girl. It was her life's work after all, and though she usually only dealt with one mind at a time, the way a group thinks wasn't something that was beyond her grasps.

She cocked her head at the crowd and in a teasing tone asked, "So did you ever come up with your master plan to get to that tanning stall?" Because if he hadn't, she certainly had something in mind. Of course hers involved bouncing on through in her little skirt and saying "oops", "sorry", and "excuse me" until she got to where she needed to be. Who said you couldn't use being cute to your advantage from time to time? "I was just on my way there myself if you don't mind the company?" Of course he wouldn't mind though...S'kor didn't strike the girl as one to turn down such a simple request.

[tarra]

S'kor decided that Raebeli was pleasent company, no matter what others might say of the girl outside the Infirmary. She was pretty enough on her own merits and she carried the conversation with a light easiness that put him at ease. It was more than he could say for many, particularly once they knew they were in the presence of a bronzerider. Tension usually followed that revelation; or with women, sometimes flirtatiousness. The rider of Morreliath was not lacking in the sexual appetites so often connected to those of his rank, but he was...conservative, to say the least, a direct result of his Holder upbringing and the turns-long struggle to keep ties with his family. Now that all that was gone, he was free to follow Weyr culture as he wished, but only time would wear away the constraints he had grown accustomed to. But he could be and in fact always was polite to women; there was no harm in that, and he would be a liar if he said he did not enjoy the company of the opposite sex.

"Yes," he admitted, even as he admitted internally that he would never see what a mindhealer saw in behaviours, "People do behave differently at Gathers. But some things remain - some things always carry over no matter where you are. Custom and habit, you know, or just fear of repercussion elsewhere."

"So did you ever come up with your master plan to get to that tanning stall? I was just on my way there myself if you don't mind the company?"

S'kor turned to her, mild amusement sparking in his hazy eyes. No, he would not mind it at all, though why she might attach herself to him was beyond him. Nonetheless, he was going to enjoy it, and not think too much. His lips quirked into the lightests of smiles as he shrugged.

"Of course not; I mind only if you were knocked down and forced me to beat someone up on your behalf," his eyes, brimming with mirth, gave away the jest, "But that's unlikely. As for the plan...well, I have it somewhat. I thought to go round the edges of the crowd, then plunge through at the nearest point to get to the stall. If you'll please follow, I'll show you the spot."

He began to move, slow, even steps mincing their way around the worst of the crowds, taking them through and around little bands of stragglers on the outskirts. The fiery glare of the bonfires fell away, and the cool quiet of the Gather's edge took them into the calmer light cast by the torches placed along its borders. S'kor looked up at the darkness around the crowds, pierced by the eerie lights of dragons' eyes gazing down at them, and sighed. His own gab, the night-black cloak with its crimson hem, would have fit in perfectly had he chosen to go into the shadows. But he had no stars to pierce it wit, no dragons' eyes. He had lived in the shadow of his family so long....

Morreliath's annoyance shook him up, and blinking he turned back to his companion with a smile.

"So mindhealer, you say people behave different in Gathers. What do you think makes them different?"

[Lotty]

Plan enacted. She now had somebody to pal around with at the gather. She had yet to see Dmitri, otherwise he very well could have been her target for the day. How she just adored the harper boy...but that was so far beyond the point. Rae had just successfully endeared herself to yet another person, and as typical she was delighted, actually to the point where she almost missed the bronzerider's move into the crowds. It took her a second to realize he had stepped into the crowd, and he was almost swallowed completely before she took the plunge herself and went in after him.

Her pace was interrupted only by brief brushes against the toile and lace of passing by dresses and frilly gather wear. Despite a bump here or there she kept up with S'kor rather easily, though it helped that he moved slowly and even seemed...distracted maybe? She was keeping tabs on his behavior again. It was a much more subconscious habit than one would think, the whole observation thing that is, even if she didn't meant to the mindhealer so often looked for little clues about people because even the smallest details said volumes. Actually, it was all about the little details - inflections in the voice, subtle shifts of the eyes, movements of the body. It was never what was said, but how it was said, this was her little secret though.

Ah, a question about mindhealing. She got a lot of those, especially since coming south. With the general reluctance to seek her help, she spent more time explaining exactly what her methods were as opposed to using them. Still she had absolutely no qualms with talking about her little subset of the healer hall because it should be interesting and important to other people. A mind is a horrible thing to waste after all, "I think it is the preconceived notion that you must have a good time at the gather...they must experience something above and beyond the everyday monotony. It forces people to over compensate in the pursuit of this fun. This manifests itself in many ways...those that don't normally splurge will spend money at the stalls, those that don't socialize will sometimes force themselves to...even if that means drinking. Not that there is anything wrong with this..."

Everything was ok in moderation. It was when bad habits continued after the gather that the problems came in. However, that would open a whole different can of worms. She shrugged, hopefully her little theory wasn't too...obvious. She felt bad when she let people down because they were expecting some kind of out of the ordinary explanation. Some things were exactly as they seemed.

[tarra]

Had S'kor known he was being watched so closely, he might have stiffened up and become a shut door to the mindhealer, rendering the rest of the evening a time of closed compliments and superfical comments. He was genuine enough with strangers, but being read like a book was hardly something he enjoyed - or liked to think about. He had grown used to the fact that as a bronzerider he would always be watched, scrutinized, looked up to; but it was never something he liked thinking of directly. Just as well that Raebeli kept her little secret a secret. He inclined his head as she replied to his question, the better to hear her over the din of the crowd.

"I think it is the preconceived notion that you must have a good time at the gather...they must experience something above and beyond the everyday monotony. It forces people to over compensate in the pursuit of this fun. This manifests itself in many ways...those that don't normally splurge will spend money at the stalls, those that don't socialize will sometimes force themselves to...even if that means drinking. Not that there is anything wrong with this..."

A long explanation, and a thorough one; the kind he liked too, as it appealed to his sense of logic. He rather found he disagreed with her on some points, though. It struck him as odd that people could force themselves to have fun - force implied pressure, stress, and these two hardly fit in with the concept of enjoyment as he understand. If you enjoyed smething you enjoyed it, you weren't forced to have fun. Unless...unless she meant they wanted to be normal. It was considered 'normal' to have fun at a Gather after all. People wanting to be normal, to fit in, they did things like that. They tried to enjoy what they never could.

The revelation made him wince: it cut rather close to the issues of his heart. A wandering couple, half-drunk, passed them and the bronzerider took care to steer Raebeli away from the lurching pair. Mindhealing, he noted wryly, seemed to involve a lot of common sense. And deep thought.

"So, they behave differently in that they try to fit the situation. That makes some sense," he said, calm brown eyes flitting to her face for a moment before glancing out to judge their position, "But who's to say there's nothing wrong with it? How can it be right when people force themselves to do things which might not bring them true happiness, but only a false impression of it?"

[Lotty]

"Oops, sorry," she apologized briefly to the pair that the bronzerider so kindly pulled her away from. Oh no. Be careful young S'kor. This girl was very susceptible to the school girl crush. Just about anyone who gave her the time of day or a kind word could gain her friendship. Additionally any decent looking - she wasn't too picky - male with a bit of chivalry or manners could also threaten to make her swoon. Infact, just about every male she had met at Selenitas garnered her favor, but as the little social butterfly she was, there were few that she ever lingered around for too long. She was sweet but non-committal.

But it did help that S'kor was so intriguing...he was a man who posed questions and for that she was thankful. And oh they were such worthy questions too. The kind that needed to be mentally chewed on before spat back out...proper digestion and all. So yes, she had to think this one through, and the more she did, the more she realized that the bronzerider had a very valid point...that is if... her smile curled with something of cunning. The girl wasn't known for her sharp wit or tricks, frank and forthright was always the way to go, but every once in a while a bit of crypticness was proper. Had to keep up that front of being a mystical mindhealer after all, "It depends...what is true happiness anyway? Can you fake happiness on the inside?" She didn't know for sure, but you were either happy or you weren't. Of course you could put up a mask for someone, but she was talking about feelings. She carried on with something of an explanation, "It's hard to say, I don't have the answer myself...but one can assume that it doesn't hurt to try and be happy. Happy people live longer you know. That is a fact..."

Well, the closest thing to scientific fact that Pern could produce. Her mentor at the hall had told her of studies...the positive people lasted longer than cynics. Of course this was no longer a practical study when the war broke out. A knife cared little for if you had a smile or a frown, but Raebeli like to suspect that those negative nellies who were convinced of their inevitable death at the hands of another were going to be victim to a self fulfilling prophecy.

Ah! The tanning stall. She could smell the oils before she even saw the treated hides hanging down off hooks and racks. What she would buy she didn't know...maybe a satchel? That would be nice. Or a belt...or moccasins assuming that footwear didn't have its own separate stall out there somewhere. She looked over at her companion as they approached the counter and jokingly asked, "Geeze are we there yet?"