Ping-Pong, Booze, and Bronzeriders

Half Moon Bay Weyr - Rec Cavern

This large cavern is painted a pleasant shade of pale blue-green, with purple highlights along borders. The weyr's badge is featured in a twin tapestries hanging on either side of the entry. Directly inside the doors and to the right is an area with bookshelves and a long computer desk for the public computer. Several chairs line the desk so that people waiting for the computer may pursue other studies. To the left of the entrance is a sitting area with a chess set built into a table.

Along the wall to the left is a bar, set up against the storage closet. Tall metal chairs with bright purple and blue-green cushions line the bar; beside the bar is a pair of gambling machines. Prior to recent renovations, the bar was set up on the other side of the room in front of a huge mirror inset into the wall. Now that mirror is behind a slightly elevated stage featuring a piano recently built by the Harper Hall and transported to the islands. Several music stands and musician's chairs are stacked against the wall, for use when Harpers or weyrfolk desire to perform.

Along the wall opposite the entrance are dart boards, each with a set of couches and chairs nearby for relaxation between turns. And all throughout the room are sitting areas with similarly constructed couches and chairs, all featuring blue-green or purple fabric. Short, darkly stained wooden tables are centered inside each sitting area, for games, food, drinks, and whatever else weyrfolk need. Near the center of the room is a large, long table useable both for crafty pursuits or table tennis, and interspersed throughout the room are card tables with wooden, cushioned chairs.

Baylee sends the ball back his direction. Eventually one of them is going to miss, but until then just the endless back and forth of the ping pong ball. "I'm sure it could be fun." she agrees, though he's completely right. What would they do that wouldn't end in disaster? Probaly nothing, "I can't think of a single thing. If something comes to me though I'll let you know."

Krenn and Baylee are playing ping pong off in one corner of the cavern. It's about an hour before curfew. "Well, let's brainstorm a bit. You think you could forge their handwriting?" What horrible thing does Krenn have in mind? Whatever it is, it makes him miss his next swing. "Ah. First point to you." He smiles and takes his turn to serve.

Sevran slips into the Rec Cavern, likely unnoticed. At least, he's trying to go unnoticed, at least until she scopes the place out to see who's already there. Scan completed, held-breath released in a low exhale, and the butcher-candidate is striding through the place at an easy pace, looking relaxed and comfortable. There's a stop at the bar, but the beverage he comes away with is definitely not alcoholic. With another sweep of his eyes, this time casually curious, he spots a pair of familiar faces and heads their direction. "Ooh, nice shot Baylee," as Krenn loses the point.

Uh oh! Someone has found Baylee and Krenn playing a simly scandalous….game of ping pong. No good griss from the rumor mills today, "I'm not sure that I could. Thats pretty hard to do without examples." she says and raises her arms above her head when she finally gets a point, "Point for me finally." Even if it is the first one, "Amidst all the points you have already." Cause ya know, Baylee has been keeping tabs. She smiles when she hears Sev's voice, "Hi Sev. Thanks."

The rumor mill can make do with anything. By the time the story of this little outing is retold, it will no doubt be unspeakably lurid. Krenn, not paying attention to such things, grins as he starts up the next round, serving. "I'll catch up. And I'm sure we could find samples if… oh! Hey, Sev." Krenn sounds chipper, though he's keeping his eyes on the ball right now. Can't get too distracted!

"What's hard to do without examples?" Sevran wants to know, casually curious as he sips on his iced beverage. His eyes follow the ball back and forth with mild-interest. And then a quick, "Hey, Krenn."

Baylee keeps her eye on the ball as it goes back and forth. You have to stay focused to win, "Forging…" she pauses as she hits the ball back toward Krenn's side of the table, "…handwriting." Cause that is a thing Candidates do for sure!

Krenn doesn't want to fall too far behind here. Must remain focused! Though he can't help but at least try to switch topics. "Yep. So, you're planning a bonfire?" Smooth. Seemless segue, there. "Sounds like a good time. Who all is going?"

Forging handrwriting? Sevran's eyebrows go skyward at that admission, but he catches himself before he asks any more questions. Nope. Does not want to know. In lieu of a response, he sips his drink, slowly. Krenn's change of subject is seized, and he offers a quick, "Yup. Tanit started it, really, with thoughts of cooking oysters on the beach, and then it turned into a meal, and now a bonfire." Shrugs. "Still need permission, though."

Sevran should know by now that Baylee is a good girl who always follows all the rules. So he should have nothing to worry about. No need to be concerned. Pay not attention to the woman behind the curtain! "I hope we get permission. I think it would be lots of fun. We should all try to have as much fun as we can before the hatching." Because then its fun over with for awhile. Sadly this unhappy thought causes Baylee to miss and Krenn gets a point. She throws the ball back to him, "Tied."

Plenty of legitimate reasons they could be forging handwriting, right? Right. Krenn continues with the new topic. "Did you invite Catwin?" He asks, getting braced for another serve. "And I'm sure we can get permission. We've been a reasonably well behaved candidate group thus far, haven't we?"

If there is a legitimate reason for forging handwriting, Sevran does not know it. And he really doesn't want to explore them, either. He will give Baylee a bit of a sideways eye, though. SO ON TO YOU! But ahem. No comments. "Reasonably," agrees Sevran, taking another sip. "But I think the promise of food is just as likely to have them saying 'yes' as our current good behavior." The thought of the Hatching has him somber for a moment, but he does offer a little ghost of a grin and a quick, "Point, Krenn," for that miss.

On to Baylee indeed! There are so many reasons for forging stuff. Especially if you are trying to help someone out. Baylee would never do anything nefarious. "I think we've been good. Minus the pranks." And the candidates themselves didn't have anything to do with them. At least so far as Baylee knows. She serves at Krenn and grins, "I'm going to miss you guys when its over." Even if they all impress it won't be the same. There will be dragons then and that is bound to be weird.

"I don't know if it'll help at all, but I can try to butter up the riders and get them on board. Sell it as some sort of bonding experience." Krenn says with a shrug as he lobs the ball back at Baylee. "And you know, no matter how this goes, it's not like we won't see each other again. I myself will be sticking around either way. I think it's that way for a lot of us."

Do the ends justify the means? This is a question for the philosophers and Harpers. But regardless, Sevran is gonna keep a closer eye on that little brunette. "Hm," he agrees, though the subject of pranks has him looking a bit more uncomfortable in an awkward, sheepish sort of way. Oh, look at that wall. Was it always that color? How interesting. Drink sip. He nods his head at Krenn's suggestion of a bonding experience. "Well, it would be, wouldn't it? So it's not that much of a sales pitch." As for them sticking around? His eyes dart between Baylee and Krenn when he says, "Well, Baylee you're going back to the Hall, aren't you?" erm. "If you don't Impress, I mean." Shrug. "Half Moon Bay is my home now, so I'm here no matter the outcome."

The answer is yes. If you do it with a pure heart and with good intentions in the service of all that is right and good! She can't help but catch Sevran's look out of the corner of her eye, "Do you know something you want to share with the group?" she asks Sev. Not that she could force the information out of him. She just keeps her eye on the ping pong ball sending it back and forth at she plays with Krenn, "Yeah. I'm going back but only for a little while if I don't impress. I'll try to come back often for visits and maybe get posted here when I make journeyman."

What's this? A potential lead in the case of the glittery prankster? Krenn is intrigued, but distracted by the need to keep the ping pong game going. Not that it helps as he misses another return. "And another point for Baylee." He says, getting ready to serve again. "… S'pose you're right, it's not much of a pitch. But what else have we got? Besides, it's not like it would be a terribly involved or risky event, right?"

Debatable, Baylee. Very debatable. Sevran clears his throat, the awkward look remaining even as he quickly shakes his head at their misunderstanding of it. "What? No. Of course not." Hmph. "You know I want nothing to do with that…" dismissive hand-wave, "stuff you're doing." That probably involves that nefarious forgery they were discussing. "No, actually, since you bring it up," ahem. Cough. Look at the wall. So interesting. "I wanted to apologize for the other day." He doesn't seem to think he needs to specify which one. "You were right. It didn't really have anything to do with you. Sorry I almost, well. Sorry."

Uh huh! Sure. Sevran knows something that he isn't sharing. Though this isn't the moment to press for it. Baylee grins at getting another point, "I'm beating you." she says merrily to Krenn. She readies herself to try again. This game is her's and she knows it, "Ok." Besides how can you find the glitter fiend by forging handwriting? That is just silly now. The apology though is met with seriousness, "It's ok Sev. You were having a bad day." Clearly, "We all have bad days sometimes."

Krenn could have some complicated scheme to unveil the culprit through forgery. One never knows. His mind works in mysterious ways. It's tough to carry on conversation and ping pong at the same time, but he manages to give Sevran a very quick little smile before his next serve. "Apology accepted. I think we've all been there at one time or another, yeah? Water under the bridge. And I meant what I said. If you ever need to talk with somebody…" He leaves it at that, serving the ball again.

Unzipping the front of his flight jacket, J'en comes in the doors of the rec room, pausing only long enough there to allow the gold of his gaze to sweep over each occupant in turn. Krenn, Baylee, and Sevran. Chin lifting, the darkness of his lashes lower then, off his eyes go towards the bar opposite and long legs carry him that way without a word. Once arrived, he orders himself a drink with a bit more kick than the one the butcher-candidate holds in his hand, standing there without claiming a stool for himself, back to all that bonding between egg gropers. The bartender prepares a tall frosty mug of ale for the Wingleader, who remains where he'd apparently settled himself, the collar of his jacket only partially covering what only could a perfect impression of human teeth marks there at the back of his neck right below his hairline. Someone had taken a bite out of him, hard and deep enough to scar.

Sevran murmurs a low "thanks," for the acceptance of his apology, and then a shrug. And a sip of his water, because he wants all the distractions right now, eyes roaming the room to avoid meeting the gaze of two people who have grown to know him. So the entrance of the bronzerider has his attention, providing that sought-for distraction, even if he does reflexively straight up just a little bit and briefly look like he's been caught doing something wrong. NOTHING TO SEE HERE! Eyes back to the game of ping-pong rather rapidly, and he offers a huff. At Krenn's offer to talk, there's a quick and curt "No. I mean, thanks, but no. I'm good." Even if he's anything but. Instead, he'll just mock-whisper to Baylee, "He's letting you win."

The arrival of J'en is met with nothing. Baylee is too focused on her ping pong ball game to worry much about another person coming into the rec cavern. People are coming and going all the time. If there is something interesting to see here Baylee isn't seeing it. Baylee lifts her left hand while keeping her right on the paddle so she can effectively parry the ball back and forth, "He is not letting me win. It wouldn't get him more points anyway." He might even get de-merits for that! Especially if she found out, "I'm going to kick his butt." she declares. If the men need bonding time she wouldn't stop them. Though with Sev declining she refocuses on the game.

There are always riders lurking and watching. Krenn is used to this by now. Right on cue, he misses another shot. "… Okay, I realize that doesn't help my case, but Baylee's winning easily enough without me giving her any help." He says with a self-depricating chuckle, shooting Sevran a quick smile and nod. "Fair enough. Anyways, don't worry about it. We're good." He serves again. "I can still catch up!" He claims.

Mug of ale now in hand thanks to excellent service that earns the bartender a nice tip, J'en steps away from the bar and finds a seat at a small table near the bar that faces the ping pong table probably entirely by coincidence, lowering himself into it and crossing his legs at the knee. As expressionless as he was as he strolled in, sips are taken of that frothy beverage, the evenness of his half-lidded gaze leveled onto the three candidates but probably only because there wasn't really anything else going on.

Fingers work the massive fluffy towel over still damp hair, Tanit working the towel back and forth before sliding it down over her neck, leaving the fluffy mass to stick every which way. Bare feet make soft sounds as she pads across the rec room, smelling of fresh soap. The bar perused, and something large and fruity ordered. By the time her drink arrives, Tanit is able to take note of the occupants of the room, and the ping-pong game, and starts off in that direction.

Maybe Sevran has a thing about authority, because there's another glance towards the Wingleader at the bar… only he's not at the bar anymore. Now he's sitting in a suspicious fashion staring at them. There's a quirk of his eyebrow, a twitch to the corner of his mouth in the direction of said Wingleader before Sevran turns back to the ping-pong table. "Eh. I'm pretty sure he's letting you win," says Sevran, the corner of his mouth quirked up and threatening to turn into a full grin. "And see? He didn't deny it, either. Totally letting you win." Beat. "Be right back," he states, leaving them to their game as he turns and heads back for the bar, downing the rest of his non-alcoholic drink on the way. He leans on the bar briefly, just long enough to place an order and toss Tanit a skeptical "Huh. That's interesting," comment in regards to her large and fruity drink. "Baylee and Krenn are playing ping-pong. Wanna join us?" because he's not lingering at the bar long. Two drinks acquired, one distinctly stronger looking than the other, and he's pushing off from the bar again. If she follows or not, he's on his way back, pausing only long enough to flirt with death by dropping the stronger drink on J'en's table before making a hasty retreat. Because stony-faced bronzeriders need to relax!

Baylee might be more nervous if she noticed but she hasn't so she isn't! Simplicity. Though a yawn does escape her mouth causing her to miss Krenn's next shot, "I think I'm going to have to stop while I'm still ahead." Ya know. So she can hold it over his head. Tanit gets a wave and a smile. She sets the ball and paddle down, "I'm headed back to the barracks. You all don't have too much fun." And she's headed toward the door.

"Is it that late already?" Krenn remarks with a glance at the clock. "… Well, shards. It is." He sets down the paddle and gives a smile to the latest folks approaching the table. "Well, it's open if you two want to have a game. Sev, see you back at the barracks." And he's off!

For whatever reason, anyone coming or going is noted by the bronzerider, not so focused on watching the three candidate socialize as it might appear. Thus, he sees the arrival of Tanit and follows her with the evenness of his gaze until she procures her enormous fruity drink and heads for the candidates. He might have resettled his attention back there as well, were it not for the beverage being deposited before him shortly thereafter. Golden eyes lock to it, flickering to the back of the retreating butcher for a time as lashes descend once more, soon snorting and pushing the offering away from him with the tips of two long fingers. As Jae's chin lifts something is muttered in grumbling fashion under his breath, something that does not sound very nice as it was more growl than actual words. It's all muffled, then silent, as he lifts his mug to his lips and takes a sip, merely watching as Baylee and Krenn scoot out without so much as a passing glance his direction. This is fine. Plenty of riders come and go, and he is no different. He didn't address them and they didn't address him, and thus no need for 'sirs' and salutes. Another snort, leaning against the back of his chair, the tip of his boot demanding a moment of appraisal for the scuff along one side. A ghost of a frown appears just at the corner of his lips, but then out of sight out of mind, as he returns his gaze to Tanit and Sevran.

Tanit laughs, "No white knot, so I, therefore, can drink as many brightly colored fruity things as I like." She manages not to laugh as Sev deposits the drink, like a child with a firecracker, light and run. Before she can comment however the other two candidates are departing; "Bye Baylee, bye person I don't know yet." Drink scooped up in both hands J'en is given another look of appraisal and a faint headshake. "Might have worked out better for you Sev, if you asked the bartender what he was drinking first. Is he one of the Weyrling staff?"

Krenn and Baylee are leaving, which means that Sevran's journey back to the ping-pong table is… useless at this point. Because what's he gonna do there, play ping-pong? Snort. No. "Lucky you," to Tanit and her fruity drink, "Although I'm not sure I'd want to drink that thing." As for the drink-drop and run? Sevran flashes a glance back at said drink, looking not at all surprised that it has been dismissed. There's a lift of an eyebrow, a flash of a grin, and he tells Taline, "If he doesn't drink it, I'll go take it back. I'm allowed one." And because he's just on fire tonight, he'll go ahead and flash a satisfied little smirk towards said bronzerider, and follow it with a snappy salute, just for good measure. "It's the thought that counts, right? I'm just trying to be nice." Sure. Sure he is. And then a shake of his head. "No." J'en? A Weyrlingmaster? They would all be doomed. "His bronze Searched me."

J'en is being talked about? Yes, yes he is. Rather than watch it happen, J'en angles his body so that he's facing the door instead, maybe to train his ear for better eavesdropping. The drink he had been given is left where it was pushed away, concentrating on the mug of dark brew currently in his hand. At some point he glances back to Tanit and her smug pal, spotting the self-satisfied grin and crisp salute that make his shoulders tighten and eyes narrow. That is not happiness to see Sevran, especially that version of him, at all. "Ya forgot somethin', candidate," he rumbles low, giving the tonelessness of his voice a bit of something other than allowing it to be completely flat. Jerking his chin at the dropped-off drink, he then lifts it and returns to his detailed inspection of the doors leading out. Presumedly he was insisting on ignoring both them, but as Tanit asks if he was weyrlingmaster staff, J'en snorts. "As if." he mutters to himself, half of his face disappearing behind his mug as he drinks from it. So, listening.

Tanit sips her drink, as the situation gets explained. Lips twitching upward at the corners, "Well then, the polite thing to do would be to go up and say thank you, not drop a drink like a creepy person." And to prove her point, she will alter the path to round back to the table where the drink was left at the man's statement, and plop into one of the empty seats with an earsplitting grin. "Hello." A beat, "People watching?"

Sevran is relaxed, if a bit cheeky at the moment. But he's coming down off that high horse fast enough. "Eh, I dunno," for the fruity drink. "It looks like it probably has more sugar than I usually ingest in a sevenday. Think I'll stick with this," and he tips up his own drink, which is simply water. "But you enjoy. You look like you need the calories." Grin. And then a flash of those grey eyes to the bronzerider, gaze lingering as he assesses the situation, attention shifting from bronzerider, to drink, back to bronzerider. "I wasn't being creepy," he argues, focus back on the little Pearldiver before him. "And I was being polite!" sort of. But not good enough, apparently, for Tanit has decided to show him how it's done. Sevran can't help the grin on his face as he follows. He sits a bit more gracefully than his ocean-y companion, and offers a polite, "Sir," as he takes a seat at J'en's table.

With Tanit strolling over and helping herself a seat at the small table with only three chairs, J'en looks over at her past the mug still poised at his lips before slowly lowering it back to the table. There was nothing in his expression that denoted a single inking of any emotion, tucked away behind that stony mask of indifference he wears like a comfortable old sweater, this extended to Sevran as he comes over to join them as well. With all the seats filled in a tiny area with so many others available and empty, the bronzerider's shoulders stiffen noticeably, drawing in a deep breath and very slowly letting it out with a 'Faranth help meh' sort of heaviness. "No," he relies to Tanit at last, pointedly not looking at the one of many he'd picked up all over Pern while the weyr was in search. "Candidate." Neutrality aside, his discomfort was fairly obvious, whether or not it was intentional is unknown.

The calorie comment earns just the faintest twitch of her mouth, but no more reply than that. After a few moments however it becomes apparent that Tanit hadn't considered anything beyond this point, other than studying the bronzerider up close the way, she might study a mollusk. The sigh, the discomfort. "I'm Tanit It's nice to meet you." And the pleasantries aside, she's perfectly content to remain there, smiling happily to leave the burden of conversation on Sev's wiry shoulders.

As the last of his smugness vanishings, Sevran is just left with… himself. And a smile that touches his eyes as he glances between Tanit and J'en. He's perfectly relaxed, settling into his chair without a trace of apprehension. Since his gift has been rejected, Sevran will just help himself to that alcoholic beverage there, sliding it over to his side of the table with a slow draw of his hand. He peeks at it curiously before dipping in his pinky. There's a curious lift to both brows at the introduction from Tanit, glancing between the two as he sucks his finger briefly. "He knows me," he states, forgoing a formal introduction on his end. The drink apparently meets expectations, and he pulls it close enough to claim as his own now. And he already saluted, so he doesn't have to do that again, right? There's a curious look at the bronzerider, an evaluation of the tension found there, perhaps some sort of stupid comment on the tip of his tongue that he (wisely) bites back, and then a glance to Tanit. Carry this conversation? HA! She started it.

"J'en, bronze Leketh's." he replies robotically, snorting when she says it was nice to meet him. A single raven brow twitches towards where the arch curves downwards, barely counting as a quirk, for her close inspection of him. People probably found his combination of features attractive, even if the corner of his bottom lip was pierced with a loop of thin metal and was in demeanor as cuddly a cactus from Igen. There were tattoos as well, seen peeking out where his flight jacket didn't cover, etched over the typical dragonrider musculature. Jae's eyes were more gold than brown and contained flecks of sapphire randomly distributed throughout, eyes which are slid to Sevran as the drink is pulled towards him, likely by the motion. His expression may not change as he watches him, but his gaze hardens considerably, torn off him in favor of Tanit. "Unfortunately, ya. We've met." hissed past clenched teeth, before he manages to disappear as much as he can behind his mug, boring a hole through the tabletop now with the heat of his glare.

"Aren't you just Mr. Sunshine," Warm and broad the grin on Tanit's lips doesn't dim in the slightest, but then again this is the same person who munches on sea urchins, so there's that. Still, his appearance begs a thousand questions. Did the ink hurt, what is the picture of, does the metal in his mouth get caught in uncomfortable places? (Like the knit of a sweater you dirty-minded perverts.) "Goodness, what did he do that left such a sour taste in your mouth?" Tanit eyes Sevran now, lowering her voice as low as possible. "Did you hit on him or something Sev?"

This drink is his now, thanks. J'en didn't want it, and now Sev's stuck his finger in it, so he probably really doesn't want it. Right? Good. Cause Sevran is gonna drink it now. Or at least hold it in a posture that suggests he may drink it, though it doesn't make it to his mouth just yet. As for the unfortunate-situation of their introduction, Sevran just lifts an eyebrow and smiles, amusement dancing behind his grey eyes. But no words. Because what really needs to be said? And again, almost a sip, until Tanit is making her 'sunshine' comment, and he can't help a little laugh-turned-cough into his shoulder. Third time is the charm, and he actually gets to take a sip of the stuff (and it's probably pretty good), but he doesn't swallow before Tanit's asking her final question, and he very nearly spits out the entire mouthful all over the table, barely managing to swallow it down and avert a disaster. Cough-cough-hack-sputter. "What?!" and he's glaring at Tanit as he wipes at his mouth and chin.

A dark look is given to Tanit as J'en lifts his eyes from the table and drops all that heat upon her person. Mr. Sunshine, indeed. Tipping his mug back, he drains the contents in several gulps, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. It was his left, as he was left-handed, the knuckles along the back scarred and scabbed one would assume from fights past and recent. There might be no verbal comment as to his sun-shininess, but when Tanit asks what the butcher-candidate did to him, "…'e exists." is grumbled with a scathing look tossed Sevran's way and if murder was possible with eyes alone, she'd be calling for the guards right then and there. Possessing excellent hearing, the bronzerider's gaze narrows for the sea-woman's inquiry, and shoving his chair back noisily. "I need another drink." he mutters, slipping out of his jacket and placing it on the back of his seat. An intricate tattoo covers his left shoulder down to his elbow, depicting swirling waves of blue amongst gold and bronze lotus flowers, accented by two colorful butterflies. The right side bares a young tree with fine and bold lines sprouting from the apical center of his chest, up and over his right shoulder, half-way up his neck, and down not only the entire length of his arm to the knuckles, but also drapes over the back to end in the middle of his shoulder blade. His upper right arm bears a six inch long scar, bright pink against his sun-kissed skin which cuts across diagonally to snip and displace some of the leaves and branches of the tattoo there. As he turns and walks away to the bar for a refill with his empty mug, it reveals the pristine impression of human teeth marks right below his hairline at the back of his neck. Someone had taken a bite out of him, hard and deep enough to scar. There were also streaks of thinner finer scar tissue peaking out from beneath the back of the scarlet tanktop he wears, which might be from a knife or a whip as they seem intentional, but had to be turns and turns old considering how pale they were.

"Easy doesn't choke yourself there." She hadn't expected that reaction, nor had she intended to kill the poor candidate. She might have had the comment for the "existing' part but she grows silent once the jacket is shrugged off, and Tanit stares, not in a lecherous sense though some might take the interest that way. The contrasts are what catches her attention. The scabbed scars on his knuckles, the flowers, and butterflies in his tattoos. "Are those… teeth marks?" Her voice is holding that spark of curiosity barely restrained.

Sevran is still recovering some, the sting of alcohol in his nose probably still sharp and painful, so he misses the heated death-glare that J'en throws in his direction. He does not, however, miss the comment on his unfortunate existence. That, he just plain ignores. He also ignores the bronzerider walking away for his new drink. Though curiously, jacket on chair seems to say he intends to return, which earns a eyes-in-the-back look from the half-choked candidate. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he waves off dismissively at Tanit. And then, without bothering to take a second look, he just nods. "Yup." Teeth marks. Yes. They are.

Teeth marks? What teeth marks? J'en doesn't know nor he does he answer Tanit as he continues to the bar and gets himself another ale, he might even linger there longer than necessary to drink down another half of it and fill it back up before marching back to his seat and dropping himself into it. Socializing was hard, especially with overly curious people who ask questions. He pays no mind to the sputtering an hacking candidate or his struggle to replace the drink he inhaled with air, crossing his legs again and leaning into the back of his jacket draped chair. Mum is the word, the word that he is not saying about anything, because there are no words. There is only drinking and pretending people don't exist. At least for now.

"You know, just existing seems a bit harsh." She worries at her lower lip with her teeth absently between sips of her saccharine concoction. "Why butterflies?" Maybe he won't gnaw her face off and use her for shark bait?

Sevran seems to have recovered, at least from choking half to death on his drink. He peers at what's left in his glass, but decides it's best to just leave it be rather than risk any more unpleasantness. It gets abandoned on the table, pushed away with two of his fingers. As J'en returns, Sevran decides this is a good time to make his exit, and stands quickly. As for that harsh statement? "Don't worry about it," he says to Tanit, flashing her a smile. "It doesn't bother me." And really, it doesn't. He just shrugs and shoves in his chair. "Curfew," is what he'll say to Tanit, by way of explanation as to why he is abandoning her to the bronzerider. "Sir," is offered to J'en, because manners. And then he's out of there, heading for the candidate barracks at a pace just shy of leisurely.

With a lift of his tree etched shoulder, J'en drops it back down into a shrug, dismissing the implication that his wish for Sevran to not exist was too harsh, drinking his drink instead of caring. "Dunno, ask mah brother, 'e likes to make meh 'is own personal canvas when I'm passed out." Allegedly, there was drinking involved, from the sounds of it and the bronzerider could certainly put it away. That mug was already back at his mouth, a lowered lash and long look given Sevran as he rises from his chair and brushes off the nastiness of his loathing for him so easily. Jae does snort at mention of curfew though, the salute and candidate off with double flicked and methodical backwards wave of his hand.

Tanit watches Sev depart with a quiet wave. Still trying to figure out exactly what about the young man is so offensive. "Your brother did all of the inkwork? it's impressive." And might serve as a motivation for not passing out drunk anywhere. "I'm curious, is it candidacy you have something against, or just candidates in particular?" Sipping her drink, curiosity rather than judgment laced in the clear tones of her voice.

The bronzerider continues on as if Sevran was never here to start with, though it's when he vanishes from sight that all that stiffness along his shoulders begins to dissipate, golden eyes drifting back to Tanit immediately after the doors close behind him. "Yeah," he says, nodding once. "Eh. Dun let 'im 'ear ya say that, 'e already thinks 'e's Faranth's gift." J'en was covered with three large body tattoos at nineteen, so he might not be as smart as passing up on drinking with his elder brother as one might wager he'd be. As silence falls over the small table, he gets back to slowly draining the contents of his mug, though as Tanit speaks up again and asks him what his issue is he's shrugging. "Candidates are annoyin' but it ain't nothin' like that. Long as they salute, address riders proper, and dun't mouth off I could care less." Kicking back his drink, he sets the empty mug onto the table and crosses his arms loosely over his chest.

Tanit laughs, "Doesn't change the fact that it is true, I've not seen any tattoos that hold color like that. And unless he lives here too I doubt I'd run into him, or know who your brother was was if I did." The empty mug, as well as her glass, are both eyed, and she gestures that she'll make the trip to the bar for both of them if the rider allows, and her drink is replaced with something far less exotic.

J'en tilts his head however slight to one side, his agitation down to absolute zero, and voice back to an effortless evenness. A voice that was thickly accented, "Nah, ain't gunna run into 'im 'ere, 'e lives back in Ista. 'e ain't never got searched or Impressed, so gettin' over 'ere is kinda a 'astle for 'im." When Tanit waves her hand at his empty mug, he gestures in return, permission granted for her to go ahead and get him another.

Tanit has the bartender refill J'en's mug with whatever he had already been drinking, and sinking back into the chair comfortably she listens to talk of Ista lips forming a soft smile. "I've never been to Ista though I hear the climate isn't all that much different than here. Is that were you impressed? Or were you searched for one of the Half Moon clutches?"

That would be ale, the stout kind, dark with a strong brewed flavor. The rider nods his head in about as close to thanks as anyone was ever going to get from him, wrapping his fingers around the smoothness of the glass handle. "It ain't, gets 'otter 'ere though in the summer than back 'ome." Legs remain crossed, but he scoots himself closer to enable him to rest his mug lifting elbow on the tabletop, "I was a bit of a 'andful growin' up, so mah dad kept sendin' meh off to various relatives all over Pern, but I kept gettin' searched and shuffled off elsewhere. I was at Fort Weyr the last time, brought 'ere and Impressed 'ere."

"I can't even imagine that being shipped from Weyr to weyr, so far Half Moon is the only one I've seen inside," Tanit admits, fingers tracing absent circles in the condensation on her glass. "Is that common? For those with - whatever it is the dragons look for to move from weyr to weyr like that until they impress, or was that something you chose for yourself?"

Looking up from the mug his lips were attached to, J'en swallows and set it back down, his tongue licking away the mustache of foam let behind. He has nothing to add on Half Moon Bay other than it was tropical, where he Impressed, and the place he currently called home. No, it was her question that had drawn back his attention, "Can be. Sometimes people say no to candidacy a second time if they fail to impress the first go 'round, sometimes they never get asked again…it depends on the individual…but dragon generally go for guys twelve to twenty five and chicks sixteen to thirty for whatever reason, or so I've noticed. Pick up a few thin's being a candidate seven times over, well before Leketh put an end to it."

The corners of her mouth twitch a little at the beer mustache, "Seven times." She whistles, before shaking her head at the number. Draining her glass, and setting it back down on the table with a soft thump. "Seems like an interesting world." That of riders, but she's either out of questions for the night or else the alcohol has done it's work and put her into a warm sleepy state. "Thanks for the drink, sorry to have bothered you." She pauses for a beat, "But I will probably do it again." Which might serve as her farewell.

It is what it is, at least, that's what the newest shrug of Jae's shoulders seems to say. Drinking through her whistling and wonderment of the world that is called Pern, only glancing back Tanit's way when it seems that she is going to call it a night. "Eh, sure?" J'en hadn't bought her that drink or anything, in fact she'd bought him one, and so the phrase seems to filter down into the smallest pinprick of confusion as his brows lift about half a millimeter. Though, she had invited herself over, so the he nods for her apology at least which ceases entirely a second later given that she threatens to bother him again. Sighing, he gives her a long suffering look, as if to ask 'why?'.

Tanit just grins at him, making her way back out into the bowl and home.

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