Taverns, Tattoos, Scars and Alcohol

Summer (in Xanadu) - Month 13 of Turn 2715
Xanadu Weyr - Wanderin' Wherry Tavern

It is often whispered, in the crowds that converge here, that a certain Weyrleader was asked what he wanted in the remodeling of the pub that was not so long ago given a refreshing. He muttered back over the rim of his ever-present mug, "I don't care what you do with the place, just so long as there is plenty of ale." With that in mind, cask after cask of ale lines the walls of the tavern, the remodeler's idea of a jest. As they age, the casks bring a real rustic atmosphere to the pub, along with the deeply wooden flavor that seems to be the theme throughout.

The lighting is dim, as it should be in all good pubs, and the tables and chairs are plentiful. A long mahogany bar, intricately carved with runner beasts, stands vigilant duty at the head of the bar, lined with stools for those patrons that seek the bartender's company. Behind it are drinks for those not inclined toward ale, as well as a door leading to the small kitchen where snacks are made and a back room that probably holds yet more ale.

Did you know that Leirith was GLOWING?! No seriously. Did you? Cause she is. And it's probably why S'van is in Xanadu Weyr, looking like he's having the worst vacation of his life (because it is not a vacation). And it is definitely why he has something dark and distinctly alcoholic looking getting set down on the table in front of him. There's a murmured thanks, and several long moments of silence spent simply staring at it. Just… staring.

R'az opens the door for Laria and he smiles, "After you." He says as they've come to the tavern to get some drinks. He waits for Laria to enter before he does before he shuts the door behind him, "Been a while since I've been here."

Kidlet dropped off with Laria's parents for some 'grandparent' time and having changed out of flight leathers into a light sundress that ties at the neck, Laria steps into the room with R'az. "Yeah, though if memory serves the food is great and the drinks are better." There is a glance towards the brooding bronzerider and she can't help but smile at the sight, "Though not for everyone it seems." She murmurs as she meanders through the tables to find a seat at the one next to the man. "Chin up, it can't be that bad if you got alchohol to keep you company." She says lightly to the rider before looking up to R'az, "Sunset cocktail. All bottled up for a few days so I can drink tonight."

S'van? Drinking? Someone take a picture! Call the press! Alert the harpers! Anyone have a calendar? But no, distinctly S'van is NOT drinking that drink, he is staring at it, like someone DIED. No one was dead though, not yet, though Leketh got real close a couple days ago. Oh so close. Anyway, there's a chair next to S'van, and it has a black leather flight jacket on it. That is not his jacket and that is not his Half Moon Bay Wingleader knot all fancy pinned to its shoulder. Nope. It belongs to the midnight haired and golden eyed man that emerges from the direction of the rest rooms, dressed in a ebony tank top, black leather pants that had to be illegal to wear somewhere and thick soled and heavy looking boots. Arms and one side of his neck bear tattoos, the bottom left corner of his lip and both ears pierced, and an expression of absolute neutrality and what you get is J'en, lashes low and unhurriedly making his way back to that there table. He pauses before retaking his seat, gaze sweeping over the solemn bronzerider, "That ain't what I meant when I said watch mah drink…" he states, sliding his rump into the chair beside S'van and reaching over to slide the mug towards him.

How could *anybody* in the immediate area and beyond NOT know that Leirith's glowing? It's likely affecting lots of people in some fashion…even the self-controlled Kaitlyn. Give her a bit to take a bath and clean her hair up after a performance a little earlier at one of the nearby Holds, and the woman's bounced back, recovering some of her stamina…looking for an evening of enjoyment. The flameheaded Harper dancer saunters in with a little sashay of her hips and flashes of long, creamy-toned thighs from within her gauzy dress' pastel-rainbow confines. Arriving only a handful of minutes after R'az and Co., diamondine grey eyes move over all and sundry within the tavern. As she gets lots of looks and a few whistles — which are nose-wrinkled and chin-lifted dismissevly at — Kait continues moves her gaze along…and notices Laria among some folk gathered. "Darling!" is called out with familiarity to the dolphineer in a husky alto, one arm lifted on high so Kait can wave at the other woman. "Hello, R'az!" is also noted brightly. Of course, a few folk get confused, and either call or wave back…and are politely ignored.

R'az smiles, "Of course how could I forget." He says as he orders a sunset cocktail for Laria and a mug of ale for himself. He hears Kaitlyn's greeting and waves to her, "Hello Kait, how was the performances? Would you care for something to drink? I'll buy the first round. Got some good news today." He says as he looks to S'van and J'en, "What will you two be having?" He asks.

S'van. Definitely not drinking. Brooding? Possibly. Though there's no snap or snarl for that call to buck-up and enjoy life. He'll leave that for the sexy Wingleader about to join him. "Hm? Oh, no… not mine," is offered in companionable clarification as to why he's not drinking that enticing mug of ale there. It's barely out of his mouth before the rightful owner of that beverage is reclaiming his chair (and his drink) with not-so-cheerful asides that just earn a half-grin from the younger of the pair. A scootch-scootch of his chair against the wood and an arm is draped over those tattooed shoulders with an air of confidence that speaks to fearlessness in the face of death. "What else was I going to watch?" wondered innocently, a glimmer of mischief caught in the grey of his eyes in the glance he spares J'en. "Thanks, I'm good," is the friendly reply to R'az's offering. "Got a water or something headed my way," or possibly forgotten, because it was water and not alcohol. And this is a tavern. A glance for the commotion caused by sashaying hips and flashing thighs, a flicker of recognition that darts from redhead to R'az as he connects mental dots and recalls, "Ah, yeah. You did that dolphin demo thing."

"Join us Lovey…" Laria calls back in turn as she extends a hand to wave and entreaty Kaitlyn nearer. "We have a spare seat and our meal can only be improved by your gorgeous visage to light it." harmless flirting from the Dolphineer, knowing well it will not 'land', but enjoying it all the same. There is a flick of hair over shoulders as she glances up at R'az as he takes orders from those in the vicinity. "I can hardly wait to hear it, be quick with your drinks." She casts her gaze to the men at the next table, "A water? At least get a mocktail and pretend you are drinking with the rest of us. They may even actually forget to not put the alchohol in it if you really lucky." She dips her head to the dark haired man with a nod to his tattoos, "Whose your artist?"

J'en, twitches. When he and S'van had arrived initially, there hadn't been quite so many people. Perhaps his gloomy-faced companion had been mourning the passing of the tavern's clientele because it had been dead in there, just the way the foreign wingleader liked it. Now it was starting to pick up, merry folks doing what they do best, friendly and social and he was decidedly…not. Admittedly those golden eyes follow Kaitlyn a moment longer than they should have, but they skip away quick enough as he brings his mug of stout ale to his lips and takes a healthy mouthful. Dem thighs tho. "I'm all set," he tosses back, altogether flat towards R'az for the offer of a round, all without looking at him. Perhaps not ignoring him, but not especially polite either. There was a newfound tightness along the shoulders that S'van drapes his arms, subtle, obscure, but it hadn't been for that scooting and bodily contact. What else would the younger bronzerider watch? Eh. Dark lashes lower further for that mischievous glint there, "Yer awful popular…" In Xanadu he means, shoulders tightening as Laria addresses him and there a working of his jaw that said he might just be fighting back a response that was probably not what she wanted to hear. The softest of sighs and his eyes wander her direction, chin lifting. "Mah brother." Either he really didn't want to answer her, or that might not be his favorite sibling, his tone icily flat.

"Yes, please! A Monaco Sunset!" Kaitlyn smiles sunnily to R'az's offer, the tall Harper — sans rank cords — sweeping over to the little knot of people, and seeking to plant a chaste little peck atop R'az's head, and a slightly more firm press of tinted lips to Laria's cheek, if allowed. "It was quite a nice one…only an hour and a half." Twinkle. Dress swirling airily as she pivots, the outgoing redhead settles down in a chair beside her two friends, sighs out breathily, "A Turnday party for a Holder's 12 Turn old daughter…and I was the surprise, since she likes dance." Grin. For Laria's flirting comes Kait's own harmless brand of it, a brief blow of another kiss to the dolphineer woman followed by a flutter of long, coppery lashes…and a cheshire grin. "Thank you, sweetie." At word of the unknown S'van not indulging in hard drink, Kaitlyn soon enough seconds Laria with her jazz-siren alto response, "I think the folk of Earth used to call it a 'Shirley Temple.' No alcohol, but a nice tasting draught, nonetheless." A beat passes for her to look between both very 'pretty' men unknown to her, and she's soon inquiring lazily, like a cat lapping up cream, "And who am I in the kind company of?" Grey eyes notice J'en's bearing, ears his flat words, and instantly, *Harper* mode is engaged.

R'az smiles, "I did and if I remember correctly you were there, had some pretty good questions too. Well I'm still doing those dolphin cradle demo's, but instead of inviting everyone to the dolphin hall I'll be demoing them at the Weyrs that have dolphins. This time they'll be hands on demonstrations so that riders can get into the water, work with the dolphins and the dolphin craddle and see what it's all about. I'll be doing my first one here at Xanadu Weyr." He looks at J'en's tattoo's, "Man by the name of Triven?" He asks as he puts down some marks to start a tab as the drinks are being poured. "I bet you were the hit of the party."

"Why bother with pretense?" offers S'van, companionably. "Nothing wrong with just having water. One of us has to be able to walk steadily from here to home." Even if home is… not within walking distance. Ahem. But it's all in good fun, even if he's looking over his shoulder at the bar with a distinctly 'where the heck IS that water, anyways?' look. Back around, in time to catch questions of tattoos that earn a glance between J'en and Laria, along with a brush of fingers over one of those aforementioned bits of artistry. "It was interesting," he recalls, thoughtful looks given as R'az explains where he's at with the process of the device. As for the tattoo artist? "Oh, no…" for that one. "Cenrie, down at Ista Weyr," and if there was anything more to add to that, it's lost because Kaitlyn has now sashayed her way over to the tables, greeted people, and is turning to address them. A twitch of an eyebrow, a curl to the corner of his mouth, and he tsks gently. "For shame, Harper. I wouldn've thought you'd at least remember my face, given that you managed to learn my name without asking for it." At least not asking him for it. "And now you've forgotten?" Tsk-tsk. But that's as far as he takes that reprimand, quick enough offering up, "S'van," and then a bob of his head to the rapidly tensing-up Wingleader beside him, "And J'en."

Laria's brows lifts at the response from the elder bronzerider, "He might be a dick, but he's a talented one." She replies assuming the tone of his words as her gaze flickers once more of the tattoo, "I would show you mine but it might get me kicked out. Maybe later." She winks and turns back to her table mates and lifts a hand to touch Kaitlyn's cheek as she leans down for the kiss. "One day I reckon I will win you over." She teases as she leans back in her seat and blows the kiss back at her. The tables quite the contrast to each other. Brooding bronzers vs the perky trio. She shifts her gaze back to R'az and lifts her feet to rest in his lap as he sits down again. "I hope to be there and involved in this one. I was doing an impression of a whale last time you did one near here." As names are given she smiles to the other pair, "Laria and you have met R'az and Kaity. Well now you have anyway." She looks back to Kaitlyn and grins, "I bet she enjoyed that and I bet everyone else did as well." She says with a waggle of brows.

A cool half lidded gaze settles on R'az for that name. Triven? "No." One word in response, hopelessly evenly toned. That's about it, because J'en's attention wanders off again shortly there after, mug to mouth so he can drink deeply from it. The older of the two Half Moonian bronzeriders leans back in his chair, managing to do so without dislodging the arm slung over his rapidly tension wracked shoulders, then crossing one long leg over the other at the knee. The impression of relaxation, while his body language shifts towards closed off. To add to this, he wraps his right arm around his own middle, and holds his mug in his left hand between himself and everyone else. Like a barrier. The traipse of fingers along his arm via S'van's fingers elicits a shiver and a smattering of goosebumps, quickly followed by the darting of his gaze to the touchie, touchie man beside him, but he doesn't say anything and remains expressionless. Clarifications, introductions, reintroductions, generally polite social behaviors between strangers and acquaintances, and still there is just nothing until the name J'en comes up and those golden eyes drift cooly towards Kaitlyn. Pointedly, above her shoulders. Yep, still nothing. Then they move on, gliding towards Laria, and he half disappears behind his ale as he sips. "Indeed."

Oh, dear! Kaitlyn looks well-and-properly shame-faced for just a moment when S'van 're-introduces' them, especially since the woman took the time to find out his name at some point in time previous. A rare, deep-ish bow from her waist is offered to the man from her seated position — as graceful and fluid as the dancer is on her feet — and she sweeps back up, looking him square in the face again, now recovered. "Please accept my sincerest apologies, bronzerider S'van. I'm not in the habit of forgetting folks. Yet…sometimes, it happens." Beat, blink. "Ahh…now I'm remembering." Cue a rare, self-depreciating little smile. "How are you and your lifemate doing?" The other man's name, given to her, is responded with a small dip of uncoiffed head to the bearer of such, the flamehead remaining impeccably polite even as she is not directly gazed at by J'en, her regard turning back to Laria and R'az once again. The bronzeriding dolphineer-type's comment gets a thin little smirk-smile, a tiny kiss planted to Laria's hand before it pulls away. Flirt! "KaitLYN' to those who don't know me well…but Laria is correct, nonetheless." Twinkle.

R'az gets the drinks and he passes Laria and Kaitlyn's their's before he takes his own. He takes his ale and drinks. He laughs a bit, "Triven's all right, he does good work. I've been thinking about getting a tattoo from him for a while, just can't settle on a design. Yah I think you wore the wrong clothes to show off your belly tattoo. At least get a couple drinks in you first so you can blame it on the booze when we get kicked out." He pats Laria's feet and he starts to rub her ankles with one hand, "I hope so too cause I don't think I can get Atlas to come this far without his partner so I'll be relying on Riki to be the brave test dolphin."

"Doubtful," for inappropriately placed tattoos getting Laria kicked out. "You're in a Tavern. In a Weyr. I doubt there's a single person in here who's going to raise a complaint." Speculation abounds as to the place said tattoo might be located, though S'van doesn't linger much on the dolphineer when there's a shame-faced Harper bowing all over herself to apologize to him. "Don't worry about it. I'm easily forgotten," he teases, grinning in clear amusement. A lean, and he mock-whispers, "Just blame it on that booming beat that Leirith's broadcasting so cheerfully through the Weyr." Proddy golds. Good excuse for addled brains. "And we're fine, thank you," for Aedeluth, though the mention of him draws a dry and somewhat less amused expression across his face. The arrival of his water (FINALLY) provides an excuse to lean forward and adjust position; free hand accepting the clear glass with a murmured 'thanks' to the one who brought it, along with a rather pointed gesture with eyes and index finger toward the rapidly depleting contents of his weyrmate's mug. A clear 'another one' given without the necessity of words. And maybe that reorder has the waitress looking just a little more cheerful after delivering WATER to his table. That lean forward also allows him to lean back into position, and oh so accidentally closer to the legitimately brooding bronzerider at his side; close. About as close as he can get without actually pulling him into his lap (because that would be awkward times ten). So shoulder to shoulder, and side to side, and hip to hip, shoulder-slung arm relaxed but decidedly remaining RIGHT THERE as he meets that glance of golden eyes with a half-smile. It lingers a half-second longer than necessary before he's turning to address R'az with a clear, "Never met him," for this Triven fellow. And then the mystery of the tattoo location is revealed, and S'van rolls his eyes. "Really? Thrown out, for showing your stomach?" A jut of his chin and he offers, "Show me yours, and I'll show you mine." All devilish mischief in those grey eyes.

Laria can't help but grin at the correction for the nickname she gave KaitLyn. "Alright, I will keep it as the special name just between us." She says and looks back to R'az and laughs. "You would hardly have to convince Riki, he would let Dolth fly him all the way here for the chance." She says of her dolphinpartner. The teasing about her showing off her tattoo or not garners S'van a smile, "Well if it will bring a little light in your life tonight…have a look." She leans back in her seat, relying on R'az to hold her feet to keep her from falling back. The edge of her sundress is lifted to show a mandella style tattoo around her bellybutton of dolphins in a tribal style circuling it. Not really much else under there but at least the way she is seating keeps her from showing the entire room if the curtains match the drapes. "I wasn't quite so worried if they cared about my stomach.." She tilts her head towards the bronze rider, "You're up."

J'en is remaining impeccably impolite (sorry Kaitlyn), in that he wasn't making a whole lot of conversation or eye contact, letting the younger Half Moonian rider to his left do most of the talking for them both. If there was anything that he had learned on his nearly twenty-two turns on Pern, it was that no one liked talking to a brick wall, which might be why every attempt from the gathering of people near their table to lure him out from behind his mug is unsuccessful. Looking over the rim of his mug at R'az, eyebrows lift faintly upwards. A rumble follows that was totally a low murmur, as he side glances towards S'van. RUDE, probably, well…one can assume. Then it's back to drinking, the lack of interest in his direction doing wonders for the tightness of his shoulders, though likely its only S'van who would notice. Arm over them and all. J'en seems more than content to let his more jovial table mate do all (and I do mean all) of the talking. Water delivered, another ale ordered, and behold absolutely no reaction. As if he was dead and cold inside. It was quite the contrast actually, seated beside someone the complete opposite in just about everything other than gender, not appearing to mind as S'van is all up in his business as was acceptable in such a public setting and yet putting as much space as he could between himself and everyone else. Tipping his mug back, he drains it entirely, setting the wooden vessel back onto the table and pushing it aside with long slender digits. One down, thankfully more to come. As he waits, J'en leans some against Mr.Bright-Sunshine, folding his arms loose over torso, but was making eyes at the exit despite the remote chance he might possibly check out Laria's interior decor.

R'az shrugs, "Just wondering I've only heard of him doing tattoos, haven't heard of anyone else, but then I'm not actively looking to get them done either. Good to know that there are other's out there." He laughs, "That's true. He does love the practice runs we have been doing with the dolphin cradle." He helps support Laria as she shows off her sundress. He reaches to take a drink of his ale, "It really is a lovely dolphin tattoo. Although that's not the loveliest thing under that dress." He says with a smirk as he leans in a bit to give Laria a kiss on the neck as he puts his arm around her belly to pull her into a hug.

"I've heard of this Triven…seen his handiwork, once," Kaitlyn murmurs of the tattoo artist, her lips thinning in a knowing little smirk before she again thanks R'az, then sips her drink. Mmm! "I can't afford to get any tatts while I'm a performer, given the, ah… scruples of certain folk I dance before…" Eyeroll, chortle. "But later, when I'm forced to move to only teaching, mostly…" Shrug. For a moment, the look on Kait's lovely face is a little unhappy at this fact of life: aging. A look over to R'az rubbing Laria's ankles prompts a low, liquidly humored, "Is *that* how you get to women?" Of Atlas and Riki, the woman grins, offering up a quick, "Do they understand and tolerate being taken Between?" If so, COOL! "I should say *not*…" Kaitlyn murmurs around a cheeky little grin to S'van's words of himself being easily forgotten. Yep, harmless flirting, even though he's got his arm around the rather aloof J'en. "I indeed am ready to blame it *all* on Leirith…even if she enjoyed dancing with me." Grin-giggle. His not-so-enthusiastic words of his bronze lifemate are digested in silence. More drink is had, the flamehead down to half a large glass already, and not really slowing down, except to talk. A little nod for Laria's word of only her calling the redhead 'Kaity' is soon lost in a grin for that mandala tattoo the dolphineer shows off, Kait having already seen it multiple times when the two women were on the beach together many times before. If Kait's surprised at the woman quickly showing off her 'drapes' along with her belly tatt, she doesn't show it. Flashed! Is the redhead *that* jaded? Keen Harper's eyes *do* take notice that Mister Withdrawn over there (J'en) is flashingthe door (and perhaps other things?) a solid glance, and — around her next long pull from her drink — the redhead sniggers softly. Quietly, to the air above, the woman notes, "Thank *you*, Leirith." Smirk-snort.

R'az looks over to Kaitlyn and shakes his head, "Oh no we don't go between with them. It'd most likely kill the dolphin. They are wet and between would freeze them to death. We'll long flight it with stops to keep Riki wet or to let him swim until he gets tired and then carry him while he rests. It'll be slow, but that's the way we have to do it. I don't mind, his safety is much more important than speed." He winks, "Just one of my many tricks to get women to fall madly in love with me." He teases.

Another glance for J'en, and a tip of his head to facilitate the murmur. It earns a half-grin in return; an upward drift to the corner of S'van's mouth as he answers that whisper without words, but answers it nonetheless. As Laria bites at his offer, S'van shifts enough to peer over the table and catch a peek of the tattoo. The TATTOO, and almost nothing else. Almost. If the really quick shift of his gaze is to be believed. There. Gone. Back into his chair all cozy with his exit-eyeballing weyrmate and his boring glass of water. "Nice," is all he offers for that. And he'll get to his own reveal in due time; first there is the matter of Kaitlyn and the memorability situation. "Please. I'd be more inclined to believe you if you hadn't forgotten both my name, and my face, in one fell swoop, KaitLYN," emphasized because he can be a smart-ass, even if he's grinning to soften the words. Cheerful. As if it were his lot in life to be the exact opposite in personality to the man at his side, matching all of that characteristic Jae-mood with amusement and teasing and general social behavior. All while dragging him along for the ride because Sev has an arm around him and isn't letting go. (at least not yet). "Cenrie is very selective," is all that's really offered, and whether or not that's true? Well. S'van says it with confidence at least. "Alright," because he did make a deal. A shift of posture; the settling of his water glass back on the table, then a turn of his head and a quick kiss to J'en's cheek before he's leaning forward and removing his arm from those tension-wracked shoulders. A twist of his torso, so that his back is to the group. One hand to the back of his neck, shoving his hair up and out of the way while the other yanks down the collar of his shirt to reveal the elaborate tattoo across the back of his neck. Black and white, but intricately detailed; a masterpiece wrought over skin and bone.

On the back of his neck, extending from just below the hairline and disappearing beneath his shirt, is a beautifully rendered black and white tattoo of a tree. A healthy and mighty tree with wide, outstretched branches shading a small patch of grass at the base of the trunk. One half of the tree's branches are covered in thick foliage, while the other half are surprisingly bare. Not because the leaves have fallen away, but rather they have taken flight as a flock of birds. Rendered as tiny 'V's, they trail along and around the right side of his neck, thinning out until a solitary leader can be found nestled just 'there', over the pulse point under his jaw.

D'lei walks into a bar. This bar, specifically! Having done so, he approaches the bar within the bar in order to get himself a drink. A whiskey type drink, apparently! He lifts the amber liquid, gives it a hearty swallow, and - having so fortified himself - turns to look at the rest of what's going on here. Gotta be prepared, it's a S&R motto! …or should be, at least. Anyhow, the point is that he's here, in a Xanadu bar, and… huh. His brows lift a bit as he notes a table of folks who… yeah, a moment's study confirms it. None of them are actually from Xanadu. At least, he doesn't think they are! Which is an oddity and a curiosity, and so - drink in hand - D'lei ambles closer to that table of people with a crooked smile and an affable, "Did I miss the memo about visitor's night?" to all of them in general but none in particular.

"Triv is pretty good at helping you come up with designs. Surely there are some places you can get tattoos your clients won't see." Laria says placing a hand on the woman's thigh for a moment before she feels the tug from R'az and she is ending up in his lap with lips on her neck. "You keep doing that we may not make it through dinner." She teases the bronzerider who she is now embraced by. "Yes he gives fabulous foot massages. You should ask him for one. Jaya has him well trained, I hardly had to do any work." When S'van finally stands to reveal his own tattoo, Laria cants her head to inspect it, "Nice work…though I was expecting something lower." She says with a grin before looking up to another from Monaco Bay, "Just us bronze groupies. There seems to be a convention in town. We are just trying to get in while their hot." Well heated up by a queen in full glow.

That door, that beautiful wonderful door, that door that leads to places other than where tattoos were being flashed, feet rubbed, necks kissed, waists hugged and all that shameless flirting occurs. Tongue toying with that bit of metal nestled at the left corner of his bottom lip from the inside, J'en draws in a deeper inhale that's let out the same way, akin to a sigh, not unpleasantly trapped with S'van at his side but trapped all the same. Despite this, there was distinctly not any attempts to escape or excuses being made that might offer him a chance to get closer to that portal that held such rapt fascination for him, but he'd certainly be able to describe it down to its last ding and dent after this. Another side glance for the younger rider's half-grin response, and a glance back towards the door again. Geez, he may not be insisting on it, but he sure did look like he wanted to leave. For all of S'van's smiles and laughter, there continued to be none from J'en, just nothing in general. A blankness, that was entirely uninteresting, but specifically by design. Enter D'lei in through the passage of freedom, eyes following him for a time, up until he's gotten his drink, then he was more interested in his own. Where was it? What was the hold up? And there we are, emotion in the shape of the faintest of frowns as he spots the barmaid and stares at her penetratingly until she meets his gaze. Miraculously that second mug of ale is delivered (DATS RIGHT) and he simply moves to pick it up so that he might drink anew. The woman (girl?) forgotten. Was Kaitlyn flirting with S'van? J'en didn't seem to care, licking his lips and looking down at mug as if wondering why it was taking so long for it's contents to get into him, even as his weyrmate gets up to look at tattoos and show off his own. Seemingly oblivious, uninterested, or otherwise distracted. Drinking, getting drunk perhaps, having stolen his focus from the door that was too far away to be of any use to him. Alcohol though, that was a means of escape as well. "Cenrie's an asshole…" he states, plain as day, to no one in particular and that mug was at his mouth so he could give the liquid within purpose.

Kaitlyn 'ohhs' softly at R'az's response about dolphins, the woman murmuring around the last of her drink, "I thought their thick fat deposits would help, but needing to stay wet…yeah…" His words of Laria's 'hidden points' earns him a broad smirk, his others of having woman fall to his abilities inspiring a kindly giggle. Sip. S'van's rebuttal earns *him* a slender smirk, and a very sassy "Asshat…" formed mostly with her lips. She too is not angry, just smirky. And then there's the show off of the neck with the elaborate tatt on it, and Kait is suddenly cooing softly, fingers twitching as she resists the urge to reach out and try and touch it. Prettyyyy. Waaaant. "Can you please turn your head just a little?" the forward Harper inquires of him, wanting to get a good, full view. And then another person whose cors show him to be an actual resident here enters the fray — er, scene — and the tall flamehead's looking from S'van's tatt up to D'lei, studying him for a moment before noting in her whiskied alto, "Apparently." Smirkie. The hand of Laria's upon her thigh is given a faint loft of brow, then a smirk and shake of head. "My legs are exposed in some costumes. They're my living, so I won't do anything to them, period, until and unless I must retire from actual dancing." Sigh, shrug. Noting her own lack of alcohol in her glass, the woman calls out above the growing crowd's din in a very Harper-trained voice — pitched to carry without shrieking or booming — "Another round of drinks on me, for my table!" Aside to the now-lap-sitting Laria again, "He already *has* given me a foot and ankle massage. Delicious." Twinkle. As to being hot in here, well, "Leirith's fault…Harper's duties to Xanadu's queens, of course." Grin. Of tattoos, the whole group is asked, "Does ink exist in metallic colors?" J'en's sudden word of Cenrie being an asshole make Kait's grey eyes snick to him like knives…to notice that he too is beginning to drink. Good thing she'd ordered more, then. Smirk. Listening to R'az soon has the flamehead nodding a little, murmuring, "Better not take the chance."

R'az gives a wave to D'lei, "Good evening. Just here to start to lay down plans for a hands on dolphin cradle demo and visit with family and Dolth wanted to see if he could at least meet the gold before he goes chasing after her. He's doing his very best to be very polite with his inquiries." He grins as he gets Laria in his lap. "Dinner can wait. Although yes you can thank Jaya for all the hard work she put in to taming this Wild Stallion." *air guitar*. He gets in another kiss before he goes to look at the tattoo, "That is some excellent work if I ever get a chance to meet this tattoo artist I'll be sure to give her my compliments." He says as he finishes off his ale, "Anyone need another one?" He asks before he addresses Kaitlyn's question, "You'd think so, but it's still wet and I'd rather not risk a dolphin's life to find out if they can survive between with nothing but their skin on. I know humans can get really sick if they do that so I'd rather not risk it."

Cheeky grins for asshat comments; because S'van is one and he knows it. And he might just be proud of that title, too. But as he's distinctly moving out of range to see expressions or engage in any of his own, there is no comment for it other than that smirk. He holds still during the reveal of his tattoo, somewhat awkwardly watching the opposite wall of the tavern until… Oh hey, it's a D'lei! And he's walking into his field of vision to grab a drink before joining them. Attention briefly caught by visiting Monocoan Wingleaders, it takes him a moment to realize that Kaitlyn has made a request of him. "Hm? Oh," and he turns obligingly to allow further inspection of that tree-tattoo across his neck. As the inspection comes to a close, hands release their hold of hair and shirt as Sev turns back around. There's a soft snort for Cenrie's nature, but a distinct lack of comment as to whether that assessment is accurate. What he will/ say is, very distinctly, "He," to R'az's comment on paying compliments to the artist. "Cenrie is a guy. And yes. He's very talented." But that's it. No more on the tattoo artist, though he will flash a smart-ass grin at Laria when he tells her, "Well, maybe you should've asked rather than making some rather inappropriate assumptions." Tsk-tsk. And then booze is arriving, first by the barmaid who finally brings J'en his sought-after ale (since the door is currently unavailable), and then in the hands of D'lei as the OTHER Search and Rescue bronzerider joins the fray. "Hey, D'lei," offered with a grin because //he has met him before or at least seen him, even if he was… maybe dead asleep at the time. Hey there. Hi. How are you. Remember that time you woke up with THREE OTHER BRONZERIDERS AND A GOLDRIDER IN YOUR BED?! NO? Oh. Well. -cough- OK then. Anyways. Moving right along. "Water for me," insists the younger Half Moonian 'rider as Kaitlyn orders a round for the table. He reclaims his glass as he reclaims his chair, and his weyrmate; arm once more settled around his shoulders. And yeah. There will be another kiss to that cheek, BECAUSE HE CAN THAT'S WHY. Even if Jae is decidedly more interested in his booze than his table companion.

"Better be careful you don't get burned," D'lei says with a chuckle in answer to Laria, then glances to S'van's tattoo on display and grins. "…at least, not in the ways you don't want." Because hey, it's a small step from ink to scorching, right? …maybe. He wouldn't know, but at least he does know a bit more about why these folks are here, now. Leirith's fault! …directly, or otherwise. R'az gets a heh, "I'm sure he's heard her already." The gold is not quiet. Not never, and especially not when she's got a reason to flirt (badly) with anyone who happens to run across her path. "Hey," he replies to S'van with a smile. Does he actually recognize him? MAYBE. Maybe Risali pointed him out in a crowd. Or maybe he wasn't as asleep as he looked at certain past times. Either way, he can put in the friendly greetings! And return them. Harper duties from Kaitlyn make him smile, "I'll pass along the greetings," he says, then grins. "Or is that the blame? Either way. Welcome to the glowzone." All (bronze) hands on deck! And… not so bronze hands that come along with (or get massaged by) the bronzerider ones. D'lei glances back to R'az, "I'm glad to see you're making progress with the cradle, though." A wry smile. "Nice to have something good come out of that mess."

"Good, I would hate to know he denied such a beautiful lady as yourself." Laria says to the harper and grins, "Surely there is some part that is not revealed in the dance?" she presses before looking up at S'van's response and laughs, "Well you have a nice canvas, so it wasn't a bad view either way." She tilts her head up at D'lei's comment and reaches out to smack his arse as he passes, "It hasn't happened yet." She slips an arm around R'az's shoulders , smiling proudly for the man. Weyrmate? No, but lover? No doubt. "He has done amazing work with it. Its a slow trudge to get into the weyrs but it will happen. Maybe the circumstance that caused it will never happen again…but it is good to be prepared and it not like it couldnt be used for human rescue."

Smirking, playfully implied insulting nicknames, tattoo viewing. All, perfectly fine. J'en utterly devoted to his mug of darkly hued deliciousness. However, the cooing so close draws his eyes upwards, and there was just something about the look (there totally was one now) on his face that suggested that her twitching fingers remain off the tattoo she was so admiring. Gold hued irises and all the rest drifting from S'van to Harper, but as she was keeping her distance and decidedly her hands to herself he appears to lose interest again and so it's D'lei that's spared a moment, because they had met before. A few times. "D'lei." With a chin lift that was obscured by his mug, no way he was letting that sucker get too far off. One of those three other bronzeriders in the poor man's bed while he was trying to sleep after a long hard day, might just have been J'en, but there was drinks to drink and chatty people to apparently ignore. R'az and S'van's return to the topic of tattoos, names associated with them and whether or not his brother had all the bits and dangles merely sees the return of his lips to mug rim. Up it goes, drinking, a glance towards bronzerider lap sitting wimmin folk who tap other bronzerider backside. A slow blink and off he goes with eyes alone to observe something else, such as the arrival of a third ale to the table, followed by a second kiss to the side of his face. "Ya 'ave no idea…" he says about that 'nice canvas' that Laria was mentioning, but he'd already settled back on Kaitlyn, "What?" For the eye knifing? For the smirk? Inquiring minds wanted to know, that J'en wanted to know (or cared enough to ask) was certainly an interesting development. Not that he waits for the response, because his drink is satisfactorily transferred from mug to gut via his esophagus. All of it and reaching for the third before the empty second is even back on the table.

If Kaitlyn knew him better or was drunk, she might've given S'van a little stuck out tongue, but the redhead's still sober, so she just smirks at the man. "Nice tattoo…" is murmured to him as he settles himself back down again, his 'confrontation' of Laria earning him a roll of grey eyes and a snert. The smooch to J'en's cheek is noted, again not commented on, grey eyes moving to D'lei once again, their bright depths holding a little laughter once again. "I hold nothing against Leirith's glowing, nor her. She liked my dancing…and danced with me. How awful of a personality could she be?" Aside from the gold BEING SO FRIGGIN' LOUD AND OBNOXIOUS, of course. The other woman's note of Kait being 'a lovely lady' has the dancer preening just a little, then smirking to her buddy, "Am I *that* transparent?" Lash-flutter, cackle! Laria's *next* words to her, perhaps oddly, inspire a sudden thoughtfulness in Kaitlyn, and finally a laconic, "Perhaps there is." Of her not revealing some of herself in dancing. She's distracted by word of R'az's work to bridge dolphins and dragons, so-to-speak, the Harper nodding decisive agreement. Oh, she couldn't help but sideways-notice J'en's flare of jealousy at her cooing and oggling of that tattoo, the woman inwardly smirking as her ploy to tweack a bit of *something* out of the stoic man worked. With his sudden 'what' comes her return of eyes to him — her gaze level, thoughtful — and a vaguely humored, "I was wondering… Are you capable of other emotions aside from indifference and irritation?" Factor in a grin after that. And then the second round arrives, whatever folks wanted settled before them, Kait insisting on paying for it right then and there, slipping over the hidden but counted coins in her hands like a pro. Suddenly spoken to the table: "Anyone up for a few rounds of dragonpoker?"

R'az smiles, "I'd never deny a beautiful lady anything. They are my weakness." He chuckles, "Yes I'm sure that he has by now." He smiles at Kaitlyn, "Thanks for getting this round." He says as he offers his mug, "I'll have another ale please." He nods his head solemnly, "Me too I'm glad to continue to work to make sure a dolphin never has any reason to be scared of a dragon." He gives Laria a gentle squeeze, "I do my best it was working with you and Atlas that helped to inspire all this." He grins, "I'd love to play some dragonpoker."

Just smug grins from the younger Half Moon bronzerider, S'van nursing his obviously non-alcoholic drink (it's water) while his weyrmate gets sloshed next to him. "Leketh and Aedeluth are refusing to leave," is the explanation provided as to why this pair of bronzeriders are currently living it up in Xanadu Weyr. As for the state of his canvas? There's just a grin, and then a flash of grey eyes to J'en for his contribution to the conversation. A contribution that might just have one of Sev's eyebrows lifting ever so slightly, and perhaps his gaze lingers just a little bit longer than necessary on the features of that very familiar and beloved face. His arm, which is very much back in shoulder-draped position, shifts as his hand lifts to draw his fingers through inky black hair; an absentminded gesture picked up out of habit or routine. But while he's all calm-cool-relaxed where he's draped himself in his chair, there's a quick flash of his gaze to Kaitlyn as questions are posed to the Wingleader at his side, that crooked smile of his faltering as his gaze sharpens in a way that isn't really dangerous but hints at potential warning. Dragon poker? That gets a dry sort of smirk and an equally dry "Not really my game," even if it's followed with a, "But enjoy, please," that sounds just a TOUCH nicer.

D'lei smirks to Laria. "Always a first time," he replies lightly, the hint of quirked lips lingering as his gaze drifts to J'en. "I see you've settled in nicely," he says to the brooding bronzer with his drink and his S'van. "All the comforts of home." His attention goes to Laria and R'az again, with a wry smile and a nod. "Change is seldom fast," he acknowledges. "If it's not convincing the people who're going to use it, it's convincing the people who hold the purse strings." Who are so seldom the same people! "Still. You'll get there eventually." Heh. "Or somewhere else that turns out to be where things were leading all along." D'lei shrugs, and has another sip of his drink because, hey, he's probably not making sense anyhow, so why not do it with more alcohol in him? LOGIC. Leirith would… laugh at him, probably. But approvingly! Just like D'lei laughs to Kaitlyn's response regarding the gold. "When did I ever claim there was something wrong with being loud?" he answers her. Or questions her, either way. "I'm sure Leirith loves you - and your dancing, too." Admittedly, Leirith is VERY FREE WITH LOVE, but that does not make it any less strong and pure an affection she bears for the whole world pretty much. D'lei? He's just free with his smiles, dragging a chair around to let himself join. "Don't mind a game," he says in answer to Kaitlyn's question, with a glance to S'van before he adds, "Don't mind not a game, either." Because he's easy, apparently.

"I would be more than happy to help you find a place to hide one…or maybe R'az can." Laria responds to Kaitlyn as she leans forward a bit, the last words a whisper. As J'en responds to her canvas comment Laria smiles at the dark man. "And yours…will we get to see more of your canvas? A well inked canvas is often one that has much care for maintaining of it." There is an arched brow at the beat between the harper and the man and she turns her attention back to R'az as they duke it out, though there is a sly look to see how the man will respond even as she caresses R'az's neck with lazy fingers. "It is good when the crafts and weyrs get together. People get bored otherwise." The suggestion of poker gets a shrug from Laria, "Sure, why not. I could use a few marks."

Cheek smooching wasn't exactly anything the aunties would be gossiping about come morning, rather low on the 'did you hear about…' scale, tremendously dull and likely to put them all to sleep having mentioned it. It certainly didn't seem to be something that J'en was unused to, accepting of each and every one thus far, though relatively unreactive to them (just as he was to the rest of the displays of varying affection happening around him). That ale must be pretty fine, as good as if not better than staring at doors with longing, wrapping both hands around the smooth wooden cylinder of his third that the empty second was being carried away by a passing barmaid. How quickly his affections were lavished upon his newest acquisition. He delves within, drinking deep, but pauses as Kaitlyn answers his single-worded question. Without missing a beat, "Dunno, ya more than battin' lashes and legs up to yer eyebrows?" Golden eyes lift to match her gaze, and he waits. One drumbeat. Two. And then distracted by long looks and fingers in his hair by the younger rider at his side, making already lowered lashes lower a degree more. Yes, routine, but nice nonetheless and absolutely acceptable in front of strangers two ales and a mouthful in. "Wouldn't call it settled as much as grounded. Leketh basically told meh to fuck off when I wanted to leave and I wasn't gunna leave without 'im…even if 'avin' 'im and Leirith bouncin' round mah skull for a night and most of a mornin' 'ad meh weighin' mah options." Such as dragonic castration, not even kidding, but that is neither here nor there or shared in this snippet of uncharacteristic conversation. But, booze, and it goes past his lips. Golden eyes back on the move, skimming over the sea of faces as his cheeks take on a bit of rosy glow between a few of those sips. Sipping, because he felt warm and not really all that uncomfortable anymore, "Mah canvus ain't as pretty to look at…" he tells Laria, gaze having settled on her this time. He leans into S'van (okay, onto him really), mug of ale passed to his left hand as he uses the freed right to lift the material covering a portion of his back. Scars. A lot of them. The majority appeared to be superficially shallow…long and thin, a few crossed over each other, however there is a hint that others might be thicker and deeper than that before he drops his tank down to cover them again. Then, as if this wasn't worthy of more explanation, he shrugs one tattooed shoulder. "Ain't playin' unless there's strippin'…" And he's back to drinking. Wait. What?

"I'll have to remember *that*…" Kaitlyn notes dryly of R'az's first words, her eyes twinkling, the woman then bobbing her fiery head to his thanks. "Glad to encourage relaxation, this evening…" the flamehead nodding to R'az's acceptance of the 'poker game. S'van's looks to her 'prompting' of his weyrmate earns him a neutral expression, though his next words of 'poker inspire her nod and, "As you wish." She's not going to push anyone into playing. That wouldn't be fun…just as J'en isn't fun. To D'lei is noted around a small smirk, "So many bronzes just waiting on Leirith…" Who's apparently free with her bombastic love, which makes Kait sigh. "And here I thought it was *me*. Woe." Fake-sad face. "She and Kassala's…uh.. Xerosaeth! Were happy to dance and sway with me. It was quite the experience." One that Kaitlyn will not likely forget, like poor S'van's name. As D'lei decides to join the game-in-the-making, Kait signals the nearest waitstaff to "Please bring us a new deck of dragonpoker cards!" while flashing said staff a tenth-bit of a mark. The equivalent of $10 just for some new cards inspires the waitress to do so in a hurry, a smile touching her mouth as she soon thanks Kait…who nods, smiles. For Laria's naughty-esque words, there's a lean over…and a sudden, little nip aimed at the other woman's nose tip. Who knows it it scores. "Stop that, you watery tart." Grin. As for Crafts and Weyrs joining… "We're prime examples, Laria. And R'az is working on being one, too." Sagenod. Let the dolphineer think she's going to earn herself some cash. "Four in. Anyone else?" It's J'en's reply to her provocative comment, however, that makes Kaitlyn suddenly burst out laughing, the sound hearty and hale, expressed with those Harper-trained lungs. She then simply listens to the hair-stroked man talk more and more as he falls further under the spell of the alcohol, word of the potential of Leirith yelling inside his head making the woman giggle. Wait-whut? Stripping? Cue Kait's easy, "I don't play that in public. Other folks can feel free, though I expect *someone* else to use coin, as I will." Grin.

R'az smiles, "Well I'm trying here first so hopefully I can point to Xanadu as an example for when I go to other Weyr to pitch the idea. You are right it's going to take time, but I think it's well worth the effort that I'm putting in." He smiles as his new mug of ale comes, "Thank you." He nods, "I think some of the best work comes when the crafts and weyrs work together." He pauses to take a drink. He takes a look at J'en back and he winches a bit, "I'm sorry that whatever happened to you to get those scars happened. No one should be treated like that." He takes a drink and smirks, "Laria be out after one hand."

There is suddenly an awful lot of side-eyeing happening on the part of S'van; most of it focused on J'en and that ale he's downing pretty darn fast now. But his gaze, and his attention, drifts the way of the other table, settling on D'lei with a grin. "Yeah well… not much else we could do," so might as well make themselves comfortable! Even if he's looking less and less so as comments are tossed between weyrmate and Harper, a twitch of a grin for the reply, even if it's drawing longer and longer looks towards the Archipelago Wingleader. It's almost like he's taking notes; a small little tally adding up in that brain of his as he ticks off things one by one as they occur. The comment on canvases has those grey eyes on Laria, though that easy grin of his falters once again, this time for the very distinct and obtrusive movement happening beside him as he's suddenly got an inebriated bronzerider leaning into him (onto, aka ALL OVER him) and revealing a plethora of scars to the group. "Jae…" and maaaaaybe Sev is gonna try and catch that coveted third-ale while he's distracted… but no dice. Not quick or sly enough before it's back in J'en's hands and being downed once more. "Er, no stripping," because lines need to be drawn somewhere, and Sev is drawing it RIGHT THERE. (just… ignore all the previous lackadaisical attitude for tattoo reveals, kay? Kay). That arm around tattooed shoulders might just tighten a bit more, and a second later he's leaning in to brush lips against ears and murmur something in a low voice. He's backing off as R'az makes his comment on scars, prompting a longer look at the bronzerider across the way, though there's certainly nothing about it that would suggest anything other than mild curiosity. "I would be out in the same hand, so I will maintain my previous decision of not joining." He'll spectate.

"Mm," D'lei says to J'en with a light nod, glancing to S'van and listening to him as well before he shrugs. "I've never had that problem, myself. Garouth'll keep in touch or spend time when we're free, but he's never objected to leaving when we've got duties to do." A moment, and then a lopsided grin. "Well, he's dragged me halfway across Pern for a flight, but still. He's reasonable beforehand." And soon, though D'lei doesn't yet know it, that bit of history will repeat itself! Only, not exactly. Different flights, different chased-and-chasers, different outcomes! But, that's the future, as yet unwritten in this moment. For now, D'lei looks to Kaitlyn with a grin for the easy-come Leirith-love. "Of course it's for you. She's a queen, Kaitlyn. Just because she has an entire kingdom to love, that doesn't make her adore any particular subject less." Just… more people, more love! ALL THE LOVE. D'lei nods to R'az. "Ista will be your hardest sell, I expect," he muses to the other bronzerider. "…well, of the coastal Weyrs, anyhow." A grin, because it's not like Igen or High Reaches will have any use for the dolphin-aid device. "They're a bit more old-fashioned, generally."

As J'en's shirt is raised and he shows off his marred canvas, Laria actually leans forward to inspect them. At least restraining herself from resaching out to touch them. "Scars tell stories of survival, there is no truer art that can be held on a canvas." Her words perhaps more subdued than before, but there is no pity in her gaze, more..appreciation for the sharing of it. Still her fingers itch to touch the lines with a curious look in her gaze. Clearly a tactile woman. Laria tilts her gaze back to Kaitlyn at the nip on her nose and grins. "You would hate it if I did." She teases in turn and snaps her teeth as if to nip at the pointing finger. She did then looks back to R'az with a raised brow before giving a little nod to him a playful smile on her lips. "Yeah, I don't think many would complain though. Surely would make the game interesting." She glances over to S'van and laughs, "Alright dear…just regular old poker…this time."

Weathering laughter and giggles, J'en settles in with his third mug of ale for the evening, even if at this point there probably wasn't a whole lot of it left. A crinkle of his nose and an honest to goodness pout when his suggestion to play strip-dragonpoker is shot down at the very first opportunity. "Ain't wastin' marks if ain't no one gettin' nikkid," he growls softly, more rumble than annunciation, already moving on to R'az and his words heavily laced in sympathy. For it, Jae shrugs dismissively, lifting one shoulder slightly just to drop it again. It was the skin he was in, wasn't anything he could do about it, but he could appreciate well enough that it just wasn't what most people found aesthetically pleasing. For Laria's potential state of perpetual undress after losing one hand, there is what sounds like an amused snort in reply after he takes a nice long look at the poor woman. "Nothin' wrong with that…" Nothing at all…HEY NOW! Thankfully for everyone present, there was an awful lot of side-eying coming from S'van's direction and the man is return eyeballed. So he flashes poor unsuspecting Laria some scars, and then nips at his weyrmate's ruggedly handsome jawline in the process, because why the hell not? Greedily, Jae retracts his mostly consumed beverage out of range. Golden eyes are narrowed, for there is no ale for you grabby-grabby hands! "Mine," he grumbles and then noses at the side of his neck, breathing in his scent. "Also, mine." The denial of naked people for his visual appraisal and ultimately…enjoyment is met with a sigh and an oh so betrayed look as he eases himself back and finishes the last of the third ale of his while marking that betrayal with a long measured (and headed towards blitzed) look. Just to spite him. Gulg. Gulg. Killjoy! Gulg. AH! Yep, he even goes so far as to stare the man down as he flips the mug over to SHOW HIM that it was now empty. Enemy of all things fun (all things being stripping around strangers). Grumping, slumping back into his chair, he slides his attention far too slow towards Laria, "Ain't nothin' pretty about what 'appened or what got left behind," he says softly, throwing his legs over S'van's lap, "Didn't appreciate much bein' someone's art project." JUST SAYING LARIA, and there was no offense meant in the statement. It was just how he felt, even if he was fingering the sleeve of his weyrmate's tunic. Distracted, he begins to pick at a loose string. Tug. Tug.

"Hear-hear…" is all the dancer says to R'az's words of furthering positive interactions, tapping her nearly empty glass on the table top. People all over each other under the influence of drink? Say it's not so. Kait's likely seen *this* part of life…and the precursor to a gold's mating flight — enough before to just let is graze over the surface of her mind…though those crystal grey eyes of hers *do* secretively slip over to the boys around the table to take in some yumminess a few times…on the sly. Well, except for J'en's bared and scarred chest. It doesn't seem to bother her. Mmm…nuh-uh. "Yes, they *do*…" the Harper murmurs of scars back to Laria, jerking her finger back from those nipping teeth, grinning at the dolphineer woman. But, good! No stripping. Means more *money*. Laughter cures many ills, and the redhead's glad to see her own lighten up S'van, though she turns her gaze to D'lei to notes to his words, "Well then… Good! I feel much better!" 'Cause Leirith love! Is better than Leirith bellowing. The new deck of dragonpoker cards in her hands are opened from their seal, showed around to all at the table, then carefully riffle-shuffled over and over as they all chat, drink. The cards are soon dealt out while Kait murmurs, "Simple seven card, nothing wild except fools." Jokers. "Our stakes won't go over an eighth mark at the highest — ever — for opening ante and raising bets, so that people can play some without getting bankrupted. Sound fair?" Beat. "And nobody is allowed to completely clean out their pockets. This is for fun." Dark copper eyebrows raise as the woman looks around to all of them. Good, still? If so, the flamehead lifts her own cards to oggle them, notes, "The person to call out the Lady of Paradise River Hold's name, aside from me, gets to start us off. We'll go clockwise from there." And from that point until whenever Kaitlyn withdraws from the game, or the game itself it declared over by any or all, the fun of this time continues, especially as folks grow more at ease (read: drunk or tipsy). Kait only allows herself to move to the tipsy stage, not wanting to be sloshed when Leirith's so glowy, especially at a foreign Weyr. And when she's done — however lon ginto the night they decide to go — the pink-cheeked Harper gives Laria and R'az little head smooches, grins at the other boys, waves…and finally, carefully wobble-stalks her way out towards where some green or blue rider or another might ferry her back to Monaco safely, those hips now swaying beneath her dress.

R'az nods to D'lei, "Thanks for the advice. I'll make sure to try to gather as much momentum as I can from the other Weyr before I tackle Ista. Yah skipping those Weyrs that don't have dolphin pods. I'm not that charismatic that I can sell the idea of a dolphin cradle to High Reaches or the other land locked weyrs." He smiles at Laria, "I wouldn't complain that's for sure, but sounds like just regular poker." He says as he puts down his drink to pay attention to the card came, "Sounds good to me." He sets out a couple marks as his limit and he takes up the cards he gets, "Lady Maranda." He rattles off the top of his head as he tosses out an eight of a mark on the table to start the pot. He'll break about even when it comes to this game of dragon poker.

Yeah… no. There will be no playing of dragonpoker for either of those Half Moon bronzeriders; naked or otherwise. Those side-eyes that S'van is giving J'en become a lot less side and a lot more just eyeballing, attention slowly and surely removed from those around them and focused soley on him. J'en. Who is nibbling along his jaw and speaking a HELLUVA lot more words than he was previously. Swallow, throat-clearing, and a glance at the ceiling as he weathers teeth to jaw with dignity. A flash of a gaze to Laria for her comments, a tightening of his jaw for those TWITCHY FINGERS that is definitely a threat. Touch him and lose that hand, woman. It's a look that lingers far longer than it ought too, until J'en is tossing out comments and then tossing back alcohol and then tossing LEGS over him, and… yeah. "OK, that's it. Time to go," and with that, things rapidly progress toward that door Jae had been eyeballing not that long ago. Arms, legs, torso, balance and counterbalance… all of those long hours of training put to GREAT use when Sev hauls both himself and his weyrmate out of their respective seats. Up, on feet and then (with not an ounce of shame, the bastard) tosses the definitely-drunk wingleader over his shoulder. DON'T PUKE ON HIM J'EN! "Nice to meet you all, but we're gonna leave now. Enjoy your game," and drinks, and whatnot. And while he might have INTENDED to meet each face and offer some sort of acknowledgement, he's just a WEE bit distracted with the process of hauling J'en out the door. Over his shoulder. Dignity be damned. BYE KAITLYN! BYE R'AZ! BYE LARIA! BYE D'LEI! BYE RISA WHO DIDN'T POSE IN YET. PEACE OUT <3

D'lei neither argues with the proposed rules from Kaitlyn, nor tries to jump in before R'az for the start! He plays with a casual, almost lazy style… and he's the one who ends up inviting another curious passerby to the table, a fellow whose unintentional contribution of marks helps keep the rest of the players more or less solvent - or, in Kaitlyn's case, going home with a nice pile of winnings. Poor guy - he'll be more careful next time! And D'lei? Well, he'll win some, loose some, fold some and hold some, and in the end he'll come out with… well, with no regrets for the evening, and really, that's what's important. Right? RIGHT.

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