Candidate Rager (3/3)
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Avery, Corrin, Duskdog, Iluva, Shawna, Sia
Date Posted: 12th October 2025
Characters: O'rosin, Cirina, T'ian, N'jen, Vikirin, Aulima, Malcasain
Description: Cirina throws a party for the DCW candidates
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 10, day 14 of Turn 12
Viantico slid clumsily off of Aeoluth, but remembered his manners and patted the brown in thanks for the ride. “You were amazing,” he said, before stumbling into the weyr. He’d come with 2 outfits from his cothold, which were all hand me downs from his brothers, so he had raided the stores as soon as he could. The trousers he was wearing were ones from his cothold, frayed edges and a little big, but the shirt he was wearing was new to him, a pale shade of blue with nice embroidery. It had some patching on the elbows from its prior owners, but he didn’t care, because it didn’t fall past his hands and need to be rolled up past his sleeves, and it didn’t hang like a tent off his slim frame.
He pressed himself to the wall for a moment, investigating the scene - a bunch of people from the barracks and he didn’t recognize all of the faces yet. Not even after being here for some time. He didn't know where to look first. At the food? At the people talking? Where to insert himself? A part of him missed the familiarity of the cothold, where he knew everyone and would know where to go. He wanted at least one person he could cling to, if he was honest - like Jelantos, who he knew best. Still, he was going to make the best of this, because these would be his classmates.
Maybe he'd start at the food.
Vikirin wasn't late. He had subtly sculpted his hair and a bottle (well, a third of a bottle) swiped from another bunk and there was a lively buzz of chatter inside. A gauzy haze ringed the lights, the heat steadily rising in the packed little weyr when he slid off O'rosin's brown, feeling a stab of envy for the massive dragon and the home.
“Oh, are you drinking tonight, Vikirin?” Aulima asked curiously from the kitchen, her green eyes lingering on the bottle in his hand like a dragon stalking a meal. “Let's have one together later.”
“For sure,” Vikirin smiled. **Yeah, right.** He ignored her satisfied look, ignored the fact that someone had still brought along Hayazi, even though he highly doubted the dragonrider who lived here would want a Holdless person partying and poking around their weyr.
Still, it was a party. Yet another Hatching.
“Are these any good?” He asked incredulously to the person nearest him as he approached the table, pointing to something stacked with precarious precision on a plate.
“Decent,” grunted Malcasain, who was stuffing his face with a handful of the little sausage rolls. “Good enough to line the stomach for the main event. Speaking of--” he pointed at the bottle in Vikirin’s hand. “You gonna share that?”
Nijen had a small plate with a couple of the rolls and a couple of other snacks on it, but he paused, a half-nibbled piece of fruit to his lips, and looked warily between the two boys. “You’re not going to risk getting drunk, are you? If the eggs crack, they won’t let you Stand…”
Vikirin's mouth was still hinged open, about to answer Malcasain, when he looked down at Nijen, brows converging. He left a wide, wordless pause and then popped a roll in his mouth, saying around it like nothing happened, “I would, but I already promised Aulima we’d have one later.” His eyebrows bounced, this time with a quirk to his lips, like he was already looking forward to it. “A third’s barely enough to share, anyways. We’d have to share a buzz.”
”Where’s yours?” He asked Malcasain, thinking that the sausage rolls were just alright.
“I couldn't snag any,” Malcasain shrugged. “I figured I'd have friends here that’d share, but I guess I'm not as pretty as Aulima.”
As for Nijen, he scoffed. “A drink or two may be too much for you, kid. But it isn't enough to get men like us drunk.”
Vikirin snagged another roll, saying nothing. He didn't look at Malcasain when he rolled his eyes, reluctantly offering him the bottle with its neck gently thumping to the other lad's chest.
“What about you?” He said as an afterthought, a new air of challenge for the much younger boy. “Care to try it -- see what all the fuss is about?”
Grinning, Malcasain took the bottle and a long swig before waggling it in Nijen’s face. “Come on. Live a little.”
“No, thanks,” Nijen frowned. “It can’t possibly be good enough to risk getting held back from a Hatching. I can’t think of many things that would be. Besides, I hear it tastes like sour wher-piss, anyway.”
“It does,” Vikirin added flatly. The wine was either very cheap or a little old, but he wasn't a sharding tavern. He swiped the bottle back and washed down the roll, hoping it would be enough to stop being annoyed.
A bit after dark, and long after the last party guest had arrived, Digger swooped up to the seaside ledge and chattered something at the much bigger brown as he tugged ineffectively at the curtains before landing on the dragon's head.
Obligingly, Aeoluth pushed the curtain to the main part of the weyr open a little wider with his nose so they could both watch the party
Last updated on the October 28th 2025