Day 7 of Month 1 of Turn 2716
Half Moon Bay Weyr - Tiki Lounge
As one walks onto the wood panelled flooring of the patio, they are greeted with the scent of burning oil, the likely source the various torches burning along the perimeter of the flooring. The flooring is littered with tables shaded with umbrellas, matching chairs tucked beneath when not in use.
The inside of the Tiki Lounge seems far bigger inside than outside, even when full of relaxing weyrfolk and travelers. Towards the front, in the western corner, is a small stage, generally occupied by harpers. Several tables with chairs decorate the floor and a small area is open for dancing. The bar is rather long and well stocked, glasses of different shapes and sizes hanging suspended from a rack above the bar. Behind the bar is another open window that gives one a view of the forest behind the tavern. Turning around, one is greeted by a lovely view of the lagoon. A decent breeze helps to cool the room. Up above, rafters provide a perch for fire lizards and local avians. The thatch roof, made of straw, rarely lets in any rain.
Winter? What is winter,? Half Moon laughs winter in the FACE! Or some of its residents do at least. Does it ever /really/ get that cold here anyway? Ayushi doesn't seem to mind the milder weather one bit and is out and about in a pair of khaki shorts and a loose fitting dark blue shirt this evening. A strong wind blows clouds across the dark night sky, occasionally blocking the moonlight but still allowing a pretty spectacular view of the stars in general. Course, where Ayushi's headed there's plenty of light which makes trying to glance at the stars pointless, especially when there's booze to be had instead. The harper ties up long curly locks into a loose pony tail as she makes her way into the Tiki Lounge and straight for the bar. It's not clear /what/ she's ordering, let's just call it mystery booze for now! The woman turns with drink and hand and proceeds to survey the area. Inside? Outside? Hmmmmm, decisions decisions!
It's every repetition of heartbeat and shuddered breath; it's every push and pull of give and take that reminds Ila'den that he's alive, that he's okay, that this - this moment, this stolen moment in time - can't be forever, but it can be his, theirs (Ila'den's, R'hyn's) until memory caves to the unsurities (IT'S A WORD NOW, YOU CAN JUST FIGHT ME) and instabilities of age. Muscles coil taut with anticipation, the elder bronzerider dressed from head-to-toe in dark riding leathers that protest every shift of the man they confine leaning forward, the eye not hidden behind an eyepatch meant to obscure grisly injuries long past narrowed and focused on the face of his younger weyrmate — on the tip of that tongue trapped between teeth as if R'hyn is trying to figure out how best to make his next move. Ila'den holds his breath, and - "UNO!" The elder bronzerider slams his hands down on the top of the table, a low rumbling of sound escaping him that's probably curses drown out as he draws card after card after card and his weyrmate laughs at him. RUDE. I AM JUST POWERPLAYING R'HYN INTO THE GROUND IT'S FINE. NOBODY PANIC. Finally Ila'den gets a card of the right color or number, tossing it into the pile with the kind of flourish only one sure of their defeat can muster, and sure enough. R'hyn wins. ENJOY YOUR VICTORY. There was obviously some kind of deal going, because Ila'den's pushing back from his chair, running calloused hands through gravity-defying strands of black, murmuring something to Half Moon's Weyrleader, and then stalking his way to the bar. OH HI THERE, AYUSHI. Ila'den eyes the woman for a moment maybe too long (because Ila'den wouldn't know manners if they SLAPPED HIM IN THE FACE), and then he's asking, "What are you having?" Hopefully something gross, because R'hyn deserves it. SHOULD PROBABLY COME TO MAKE SURE HE DOESN'T ORDER YOU THE WORST THING ON THE MENU, HERYNALDO.
Half Moon Bay wouldn't know what to do with snow if it dressed in a hula skirt and threw it a luau! But of course, it's Reasonably Temperate outside and R'hyn's been an island denizen long enough for this to be cool. Long black leathers are tucked into reasonably worn boots, jacket cast aside in favor of a short-sleeved shirt that does little to hide an overabundance of tattoos and - yes - his tongue is sticking out as he focuses on cards. This was almost serious business, alright! This was almost a very tense moment, but the Heart of the Cards speaks, and he reaches uno and, swiftly, victory! "Better luck next time, baby," is crooned even as he is led to what is probably his demise in liquid form, but fair is only fair! Diversion in the form of Ayushi garners the weyrleader's attention, his own path diverted to peer at her drink, issuing a low 'hmph' even as he tips back to lift himself up onto and then over the bar. "Incorrect is what it is," the bronzerider murmurs from behind the line, resting elbows on the counter to fix a grin on Ayushi. "Want me to fix it?" Blue-grey eyes swing to Ila'den next regardless of answer, one brow tilting up in faint challenge. "And what are you gonna make me inflict on myself?" PICK SOMETHING GOOD.
Ayushi couldn't help but watch the Uno math. With a game so intense something good had to be riding on it, right? Like hundreds of marks or buried treasure or a /kidney/. That's what the harper decides the wager is, human organs. Now here's the thing, she has manners but if someone's staring she's going to honestly just stare back. Her gaze mostly gravitates towards the eyepatch. That's probably how he lost it, in a game of cards! Deep down she knows none of this is true, but it's so much more fun to think of things like this. "Honestly? No idea, just…..something! A little of this and a little of that. Whatever looked pretty." It certainly doesn't look pretty all mixed together now. Ayushi offers a smile towards Ila'den before her gaze is quickly diverting to the Weyrleader leaning over the bar. "Have at!" She'll put the glass down and slides it over towards R'hyn to fix it with whatever. It can only get better!
Knowing Ila'den, human organs are or will be wagered at some point - AND YES I MEAN EXACTLY LIKE THAT. WELCOME TO THE GUTTER, AYUSHI. I LIVE HERE. THERE'S NO ESCAPE. If having his stare met bothers him, the 'rider doesn't show it; instead he's flashing too many teeth in a predatorily wolfish smile, something unnervingly hinted at that's not exactly kind even if Ila'den's posture remains relaxed to the extreme - or, well, as relaxed as somebody like Ila'den is capable of being at any point. Or maybe that's just his face. If you ask R'hyn, it's the kind only a mama wher could love (and he's probably NOT WRONG). That grey eye goes to the drink that might have been vibrant and looks anything but, a hum of sound in his throat hinting at thought before that grey eye jumps to follow R'hyn's progress across the lounge. "It probably tastes better than it looks, little bird." Translation: YOU DID AN OKAY JOB. PROBABLY. He doesn't know, he's distracted, and then more distracted as he shifts to mirror R'hyn's movement, leaning against the bar as Ayushi's drink is collected by the tips of fingers and pushed slowly across the bar to R'hyn. "It's a promising drink, Heryn. She just needs a little help, I think." A beat, and then that grey eye is shifting to look at SO MANY OPTIONS FOR SO MANY CONCOCTIONS. "I want you to make something for yourself even I wouldn't touch." THAT'S WHAT HE WANTS, R'HYN. GET ON IT. BECAUSE YOU CHEATED.
Is it illegal to fire someone just for having bad meta-jokes? Is there some kind of moral and/or written code of conduct for this kind of thing? I mean it's my meta, and I'll fire if I want to, so: FIRED, ILA. FIRED. GET OUT OF THAT GUTTER AND SHOWER. "A little of this and a little of that added up to almost be a drink on our menu," R'hyn says with a lift of his brows, fixing Ayushi with a look as he receives her glass from Ila's careful push. "So either you're being humble, in which case stop it right this instant, or you have good instincts. Ever thought of becoming a bartender?" Wink. He's teasing. She probably has a perfectly good profession going on over there, judging by that harper knot (and that vivid imagination), why throw it away on the kind of ridiculousness he's doing now, pouring the contents into a metal container, adding bits and pieces here and there and then tossing it behind his back like a showoff. "There isn't much you wouldn't touch," R'hyn agrees of Ila's words, drawled with a twitch-up grin to show he DOESN'T MEAN IT even as his eyes slide back to Ayushi. "I don't think I've seen you around before. Visiting? Recently posted?" Inquiring minds want to know, and perhaps she'll indulge him as he rims a fresh glass with sugar and pours their combined-effort concoction back in. "For you." And then he'll point a needly glare at Ila as he goes about making something that promises to be violently pink at the end because it's the sheer antithesis to all of that Broody Dark'ness McWherface he's got going on over there. "I do hate you sometimes."
It sounds like a saga's brewing: Phantom of the Gutter! Hey, he's already got an eyepatch, it's close enough to a mask. And tossing about a shaker is close to dancing right? So someone's just gotta break out in song now! Ayushi certainly doesn't back away from that unnerving face full of teeth. She'll keep smiling back pleasantly trying not to show that the expression has put her on edge juuuuust the slightest. Maybe no one will notice the goosebumps on her arms. He must be after her spleen, only reasonable explanation. Though organ trafficking aside there's a glance down at the drink she'd originally concocted, "You think so? "The dancer twists around, leaning her elbows on the bar now instead of her back and looking into the swirling liquids. "Wait, didn't he win? Shouldn't be the other way around?" Clearly she needs to pay more attention! "How bout this, I'll skip my regular duties to bartend here about once a week and see what happens?" What happens is that there'll probably be a spike in people that end up in the infirmary. Course she doesn't have any actual intention of doing any such thing but she could be the Weyr's first dancing bartender, think of the possibilities!. There's a whistle when that shaker gets tossed followed by a slight round of applause from the harper. She'll accept the drink with a nod of thanks before taking a sip and grinning madly afterwards, "It's good! /Really/ good!" She's going to want to drink way too much of this. Which is also a good thing, right? "Just recently posted. I think I'm starting to not get so lost around here." And as for introductions, she'll offer a name to both, "Ayushi of the dancing harper variety." In case there were any other Ayushi's they'd met.
YOU CAN'T FIRE ME. I LIVE HERE. And anyway, WHO WOULD PUT UP WITH R'HYN'S SASS? … OKAY, SO EVERYBODY BUT SHUT UP. "Au contraire, husband," Ila'den manages in usual tones: gritty, raspy, husky, dark. "I'd say there are plenty of things that I wouldn't touch." There's a slow smile that manifests on lips, starting at one corner and spreading to the other in a way that leaves his sole eye implicating carnal intent. He's inappropriate at best, ridiculous at worst, and neither outcome seems to bother him in the slightest. But he does feign surprise for his weyrmate's sometimes-hate, brows lifting as he leans forward, distracted only by practiced bartending antics that R'hyn renders with ease - ones that Ila'den, as capable as his hands are of many things requiring sleight, would never be able to accomplish. "Sometimes?" And now he's leaning towards Ayushi, lowering his voice to affect a stage whisper as he breathes another rasping, "Did he say sometimes?" And now that grey eye is back on R'hyn, appreciative for all the wrong reasons as he growls, "Dangerous game, Weyrleader. If you like me the rest of the time, I just might never leave." SO RARE IS IT FOR HIM TO FIND ONE THAT ACCEPTS HIM FOR WHO HE IS. POOR MISUNDERSTOOD DUCK. Or is Ayuish the misunderstood duck? Because Ila'den does see goosebumps, and he does stare at them where most people might feign POLITE IGNORANCE and smiles all the more for it. That grey eye finds dark brown, and low, rumbling laughter escapes Ila'den that lasts for one, two, three beats of the heart before he finally addresses her question. SEE, AT LEAST HE IS NOT VERBALLY CALLING HER UNEASE TO QUESTION. "Sometimes people strike bargains that are not at all appropriate away from prying eyes." NOTICE HE SAID PRYING EYES AND NOT CLOSED DOORS. R'hyn, just… pour some of that pink drank on him, and set it aflame. "But well met, Ayushi. I am Ila'den. Ila if you prefer, Kilarden if you're feeling frisky." A beat, and then he's looking from Ryn to Ayushi and back again. "Should we teach the little dancing bird the kind of bets you can wager in a card game?" A lean towards Ayushi. "Do you want to play? If we're lucky, R'hyn will end up losing his shirt at some point." IS HE JOKING? It's hard to tell, given that fey smile's Cheshire quality.
The Phaaaantom of the Gutter is there insiiide my miiiind~. Yes, it does have a ring to it. "Liar," comes R'hyn's immediate retort for Ila, but it's issued on a fond laugh, eyes rolling Ayushi's way in a very 'yes, he is always like this' manner. She didn't ask, but he'll certainly tell, though whether it's to further sabotage or perhaps help dispel the I'm-coming-for-your-liver intensity his weyrmate's giving off is anyone's guess. As for the terms of their bet, which Ila'den is busy making sound way more illicit than it needs to be: "And sometimes it's healthy for both parties to lose. So he gets to suffer defeat, and I get to suffer…" This ridiculously pink thing that he pours into a martini glass, embellishes with a wedge of red berry and a bright blue paper umbrella that he *pops* into life, and sips with dramatic delicacy while meeting Ila gaze for gaze over the rim like the defiant bastard he is. "Anyways, I say you should do it. I'm sure your teachers won't miss you at all, and I'm sure I could manage to put in a good word for you here. If nothing else it'll be entertaining." Because she can dance, not because she'll be hospitalizing people! "And I don't like you," he says to Ila with a squint for that poorly-whispered aside. "Is there a word for something worse than hatred? Hmm." Shrug. "At any rate, it's good to have you. I'm R'hyn, of the 'How is this guy a weyrleader?' ilk. If you manage to figure this place out, kindly draw me a map. I still get lost." IS HE JOKING? He might be joking, but he moves on swiftly with a shake of his head even as he fetches a glass for a drink for Ila'den. "I don't think so. I've a mind to stay back here a while. Forget that I have to be your boss in the morning. You should play though," this to Ayushi, "just don't agree to any of his bets." Wink.
Ayushi is….trapped, or /feels/ like she's trapped at least. There's a brief flash of /something/ in her eyes when she realizes the rider has caught onto the slight crack in her exposure. Perhaps it was a moment of embarrassment at being caught, or perhaps bravado considering her next words. "Do you try to throw everyone you meet off kilter with stares and…..smiles?" She says the last words with a bit of extra force, implying that is wasn't quite the vocabulary she wanted to choose. No, she was looking for a term just a tad bit more animalistic but alas she could not. Yush will blame the booze for that. The harper glances from one man to the other once Ila'den's introduced himself and there's another mention of bets, "Why do I get the feeling anytime you two decide to really let loose something explodes? And maybe someone ends up dead on occasion, or in the infirmary." It's just a feeling that she gets, not that it appears to be scaring her off at the moment. Her attention shifts towards R'hyn now and she takes another sip of her drink before /actually/ considering the whole dancing bartender thing for a moment. "Here's the thing though, if I do it and end up spilling the booze you put in a good word for me so /clearly/ it'd be your fault!" Look at her, already trying to get out of trouble she hasn't caused yet! But hey, she's got to cover her butt somehow, alcohol can be expensive stuff! "I think it's going to take me more than a few days to figure this place out." And she doesn't just mean where things are. As for the game of cards, well, the dancer does finally respond to the offer of a game. "Play? Yes. Bets? Well, I'll take the Weyrleader's advice on that one and leave that to the two of you!" She finally lets out a laugh at this, hey it should be fun. Right???
Another feral grin, too much amusement pointedly directed at R'hyn as gazes meet over the tip of a glass and the bronzerider's issuing more rumbling, short-lived laughter for his weyrmate's DARING. But he doesn't say anything; Ila'den does not include himself in the conversation of bartending and turning the Tiki Lounge into some Pernese equivalent of Coyote Ugly (WHICH WOULD BE AMAZING AND FUN, YA'LL. I'M JUST SAYING.). No, Ila'den shifts back to look at Ayushi, her question about smiles and stares eliciting more husky laughter from Ila'den. This time it meets his eyes; this time there's something honest in the mirth and the regard that he directs to Ayushi of the danching harper persuasion as he leans against the bar and towards her again. "Usually I just let them look at my face long enough, and my hideousness sends them running." A beat, one arm coming up so that Ila'den can rest his chin on the knuckles of a closed fist as he growls, "Why, is it working, little bird?" And then aside, to R'hyn, but PLAYFUL: "We have to kill her, Heryn. She knows too much." Tension eases out of muscles slowly, then returns, the shift of leathers marking when Ila'den's smile going too tight and humor diminishing from the corners of eyes and the set of his jaw. "Well," he drawls, chosing to ignore that with a look back to R'hyn. "You could just admit that you're afraid to be beat." A shift, and Ila'den is standing, chin jerking towards the cards. "But if you're brave, we can play. I'll even let you off without placing bets - for the first round, anyway." TOO MUCH FERAL AMUSEMENT IN THOSE WORDS, AYUSHI. RUN FOR THE HILLS! Or just, you know, hide behind R'hyn. That's always a safe bet.
R'hyn can't help it - a sharp barking laugh, singular in its volume but multitudinous in its over flow of mirth, escapes him for that question, further quiet giggling buried into the press of forearms to the surface of the bar. "Called out," he manages between inhales, likely muffled by his face's proximity to wood, but he tries for volume, really he does. "Ahh, Faranth, the rest of your night is on me for that," the man finally breathes on an exhale, head rising to thumb away honest tears from the corners of his eyes. "He does though. He does. I don't think I've ever seen someone call him on it quite like that though. Best." Give him a second here, in which he downs a lot of that fruity drink, then passes what would appear to be nothing but whiskey to Ila in a tumbler, smoothing his hands over the bronzerider's as he makes to wrap them about the glass. Ayushi's observations about them likewise lend R'hyn a touch of sobriety, but he's so far gone on the humor scale that it's effect is lessened, smile going sharp and smirky around the edges when he drawls an affirming, "Like I said. You have good instincts." To Ila, in a badly-whispered aside: "Such a shame. She showed such promise, too." Down goes the rest of his glass, in a hurry as though it will make it less heinously sweet, tongue clacking against the roof of his mouth in reaction before he adds, "And by that I mean, I should listen to you and your instincts about the dancing and the boozing. But if you ever change your mind, my door's open, yeah?" But for now he'll back away, gathering used glasses even as he flicks Ila a warm, amused glance. "You wouldn't be able to suffer the drink I'd give you even if I did. Go play, I'll join you in a while." And with a contented hum, at home behind this bar as he is few other places, he's off to wreak some of that havoc, if by wreaking you mean washing, and by havoc you mean dishes but shhhh. Let them think they're badasses. It's alright.
Ayushi doesn't take a step back or flinch when Ila'den leans forward, though that takes quite a bit effort given that feral grin from earlier; it's an expression that tells some small part of her to run. But it's the evidence that there is some /genuine/ amusement behind it all that leads to the dancer's continued quips. The corners of her mouth move upwards in a smile and she directs her gaze towards his eyepatch next, "Easy fix to that really, just dye that thing some nice pastel color. It'll take you from ugly to cuddly in a heartbeat!" (Hey, she would've never said ugly, he did!) It's not a real suggestion, but her next words are certainly more genuine. "Though something tells me you enjoy it when that happens, at least occasionally." But what does she know! She's only been talking to the dude for a few minutes. ASSUMPTIONS. The harper, perhaps quite obviously, ignores the question about whether it's working on her. She's too prideful to say that he /is/ a tad unsettling but keen enough to tell she'd probably get caught if she lied. Instead she latches onto the killing part, "Well, you guys will just have to wait until tomorrow if I'm going to have to die." Cause now the Weyrleader's said he's covering drinks and she's going to make good use of that! "Just make sure it's an eye-catching end, one last performance for the masses!" Or something like that. It's late. Words are hard! "Besides, if I'm showing that much promise wouldn't be better to pay me off? I could spread all sorts of gossip of how mundanely normal you two are, throw people of the scent of all sorts of misdeeds!" Yush has her own toothy grin for that part before she nods at R'hyn's words, and maybe some day in the future she really /will/ show up asking to be a part time dancing bar tender. For now though, there are cards to be played! She'll make her way over towards a table, drink still in hand. Though that'll disappear quickly and she'll down a few more before the night's out!