Planet Zar: Nexus

Itzel - current occupant of said bottom bunk - scowled and kicked at Nthande. "You're messing up my papers."

"Papers!" Nthande grabbed a handful of the parchment and tossed it in a confetti flurry over their heads. "There's going to be a gather, how can you think of papers when we should be preparing for the most monumental party of our lives."

"I can read dragon drums too, y'know." Itzel snatched the parchment as it floated down, tucking his renewed stack beneath his pillow, well away from Nthande's enthusiasm. "Are we even invited?"

"Someone's got to go, and I really think it ought to be us. If I'm going to be a proper diplomat for this weyr attending special gatherings is exactly the sort of experience I need. And there's going to be a clutch, you know."

Itzel frowned. "And off-worlders."

"Oh, really, it's not all that bad! We've had off-worlders here, sometimes you can't even tell."

"Sometimes." Other times, from horns to wings to tentacles, it was definitively obvious. A gather specifically catering to all of the nexus was certain to have some odd people in it.

"Besides, it's meant to be a costume party. Even if there's something alien about a fellow, how could you tell?"

"The drums said the party is soon. Do you have time to get a costume together?"

"I'll make time!" Nthande swept off the bed, gripping the edges of their tunic and swirling a dizzy circle in the center of the room. "It'll have to be something absolutely splendid. What do you think? Feathers? Rainbows? Lights?"

"Did you talk to Athalia about this yet?" If anyone was able to tamper Nthande's enthusiasm, it was their sister, but she was just as likely to encourage them. Itzel could never predict Athalia's predilections. She loved a good party as much as Nthande, but at least she had a decent sense of duty. Itzel's guts twisted. If Athalia wanted them to go for diplomatic purposes, Itzel would have to find a way to tag along, off-worlders or not. Nthande would just as likely get themself bonded to some kind of alien and swept away on a starship if Itzel wasn't there to watch their back.

"I haven't spoken to her directly, yet." Nthande settled back on the bunk, toes tapping and fingers dancing a giddy tune on their knees. "I know she's going and I know Shigan wants to send some candidates along. You think she'll pick me, don't you?"

"It's probably not up to her." Better for Nthande if it wasn't. Choosing your own sibling was overt favoritism. He hoped Athalia wouldn't choose him to stand.

"Well, I simply don't have time to wait if I want a truly splendid costume. I need to make preparations." They sprang to their feet again, taking purposeful long strides toward the door. "I'll have to find something matching for you too, of course."

Itzel winced. "Nothing bright, alright?"

"I wouldn't dream of it!"

Nthande sailed out the door as quick and chaotic as they entered, leaving behind a general air of unease stirring Itzel's belly.

Whispers around the weyr concluded Nthande would be heading to Meridian's All Hallow's Eve gather, although no one could determine exactly where the rumors started or who (if anyone) made the final decision regarding their candidacy status. It might have been Nthande themself, enthusiasm rippling through the barracks, marks passing hands to help create the most outrageous costume. They'd always intended to stand for a hatching, but through luck or whimsy they'd never impressed at any local clutches. Going off-world to stand at a party was just the thing that suited them.

Once the air turned chill, the grass to dying blades of yellow-brown, Nthande, accompanied by Itzel and Athalia, set foot on the weyr's ledge where they were greeted by a searchrider from Meridian. All pre-arranged, courtesy of dragon drums and message runners, of course.

Nthande clutched their satchel close to their chest. A glimmer of gold peeked between the folds. Itzel caught sight of it and blanched, shooting Nthande a worried look.

Nthande winked. "I promised, nothing too ostentatious for you." When had they ever let Itzel down? Gracious!

"Alright," Athalia turned to her siblings. "Clamber on. Ashimor says we shouldn't waste time."

"Look," Nthande nudged Itzel with a gentle elbow. "A human search rider and a perfectly ordinary dragon! Things seem just fine, don't they?"

Well... sort of ordinary. While Ashimor seemed perfectly human there was something slightly unnerving about his presence, but Nthande tamped that down, and returned the beautiful green's soul-boring stare with a brilliant smile. Itzel regarded them with his usual amount of curmudgeonly suspicion, but took Nthande's hand to help him clamber onto the dragon's back.

The freezing nothingness of between was but a moment's discomfort and couldn't quash the giddy excitement thundering Nthande's heart. They nearly tumbled from the green in excitement, scrambling with their bag and brother in each hand.

Athalia regarded them with an amused smile and a quirked brow. "What's the rush, kids?"

"We've got to get into costume before anyone sees us!" Nthande dragged Itzel away from the main entrance. "Hurry up!" They wouldn't have their grand entrance ruined by dilly-dallying or prying eyes in sequestered alcoves.

Athalia followed at a far-too-languid pace behind them, but Itzel was good enough to be pushed along until Nthande found a rocky crevice that would give them privacy enough to change. Nthande whipped sheets of glimmering gold from her bag and tossed the significantly-lightened object to Itzel, who caught it with deft precision despite the surprise scrunching his face. His expression turned to a sour puck as he regarded Nthande's wrappings. The sort of look that said "isn't that all a bit much?", but he kept his voice to himself as he dug around for his own costume.

"Isn't that a bit much?" said Athalia, a cheery chortle soothing the sting.

"It certainly isn't," Nthande replied, edging a little deeper into the crevice before wriggling out of their outer clothes. "A hatchling isn't the only thing I'd like to impress while we're here."

Athalia's warm laughter followed them into the shadows, undercut with Itzel's muttered grumblings.

It was rather dark, and Nthande failed to bring any sort of torchlight to help light the way. A sliver of evening sun crawled through the crevice, reflecting off the glimmery gold of their outfit. A sock or two might get misplaced in the tenebrosity, but such sacrifices could be forgiven.

A distinct cracking noise - like a glass being crunched underfoot - interrupted Nthande's dressing.

"Oh dear," they said.

"Peep!" squeaked a wee voice of a freshly hatched flit.

"Peep-squawk!" concurred its darkly hided sibling.

"Oh dear indeed!"

"Only you could manage to impress firelizards while dressed like that," said Athalia, tickling one of the tiny hatchlings under the chin. It preened, stretching its wobbly orange wings in delight.

The second, a little black female, nibbled lightly on a bit of sweetmeat Nthande pulled from their bag.

"They rather complete the look though, don't they?" Nthande flashed their siblings a brilliant smile, spreading their arms wide to reveal the full, glittering ensamble of their costume. A gold dragon. A queen, from head to toe, now accompanied by two tiny dragonets clinging to their shoulders.

Itzel and Athalia were much more conservatively clad. Itzel in his customary black, a suave and cutting figure of a dashing rogue, wooden sword at his belt and a rapscallion mask obscuring his eyes. Athalia wore pearly white, eons of sheer silk like some resplendent ethereal creature.

"Are we ready, then?" said Nthande, folding their wings and offering both elbows to their siblings.

Itzel colored, embarrassed, beneath his mask, and Athalia graced her lips with a keen smile, a twinkle in her eyes. Both took one of Nthande's elbows each and they strode through the hall doors toward the sound of merrymaking.