Meetings and Confusions

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.


It's lively in the Lounge tonight but not bursting at the seams, thankfully. There's a good crowd coming and going, people drinking, people throwing darts, people listening to the little makeshift band of Harpers on the small stage, people laughing, people crying (stupid drunks)… and people making it all keep working. Two bartenders work tonight, as seems to be something of a norm once the sun goes down, and one of those two is Jonteim, keeping up a good conversation with the patrons on his half of the bar while he serves drinks and gets tips. It's not a bad gig now that he's gotten the hang of things, and, while he puts a little paper umbrella in a pretty little drink glass, flashing a just-so smile at the cheery girl that's made the order, it's obvious that he's gotten that particular hang.

Daranyl still has his crossbow slung over his shoulder, yes, even here. When he steps through the door, he pauses, just absorbing the sights and sounds of the bar. The way he blinka-blinks rapidly, one might expect that he was expecting a quieter venue. There's a moment, just a moment, where he looks like a scared animal about to bolt, then he coughs, reaches up to re-adjust the lay of his sling, and strides through the crowd towards the bar.

A crossbow coming into a bar. That definitely doesn't spell trouble. Through a gap in the crowd, Jonteim catches sight of this newest entrant, and his brows lift for a moment - intrigued - before he finishes up with the customer he'd been charming and sends her on her merry way. As it happens, that opens up a gap in the bar-seating just as Daranyl's approaching (funny how that works out), and it has the bartender summoning up his patented clerk's smile to turn it upon a fella that looks like a deer in the headlines. "Heavy artillery, innit?" he asks, nodding to indicate the crossbow.

Daranyl shrugs, sliding onto a stool, "Better on me than un'tended, doncha think?" He reaches over to tap the butt of the crossbow with one hand, "And it's safe. Not loaded, not drawn." He nods towards the bottles and glass, "Whatcha got avail'ble?" He glances briefly at the people on either side of him, then back at the bottles. Someone, it seems, needs a drink. And he's even willing to tolerate this crowd to get it.

Jonteim seesaws his hand to answer that first question, kinda iffy on whether or not it's actually better on him than unattended, but not willing to commit as much to a verbal response. "Safe's a relative thing. Not drawn, not loaded, but it'll get some people looking twice." And a few people do, it's true, but the pervasive merriment that comes from just the right amount of booze seems to keep it from getting out-of-hand. Or likely to. Taking a step to one side, he allows Daranyl an unimpeded look at the shelves of bottles just behind him, liquor after liquor after liquor, and he answers 'available' with, "Whatcha got a taste for?"

Oh, don't mind Kadesh. She made sure to wear dark colors this time, food is somewhat less noticable on a rich brown tunic and leggings. She makes her way to a small table near the bar, pausing for a moment when she sees the cross bow and shrugs, taking a seat on a stool. She's prepared for the Tiki, her hair braided and wound about her head like a small crown to keep it out of her mouth. Nothing stands in the way of the weyrwoman and barfood. Nothin'.

"Keeps 'em off my back, don' it?" Daranyl has a simple but practical morality. "Somethin' that burns enough to take a coat off the insides of yer throat. Got any good whiskey?" It's not what the clan used to make, but it's tasty. He looks over as someone sits near him at the bar, then inclines a nod, "Weyrwoman. 'Snot on the bartop."

"Good's a relative thing," Jonteim answers, allowing himself a quick smirk when he basically just repeats himself. But he takes the request to heart, pushing aside a few of the bottles in the front of the shelf to find one half-buried, a thing with a little dust on it suggesting seldom use. Most people don't want their throats burned off, after all. "Just a shot or you want the bottle, boss?" while he sets out a shot-glass, making an assumption, and flashes a be-right-with-you smile toward Kadesh so she knows she hasn't been overlooked. The man works off tips, after all.

"Good, this bar has some fine food and you don't want to scratch the finish." Kadesh says, rubbing her hands together. "Definitely looking forward to some house ale and fried wherry feet." The only time nibbing between the toes doesn't involve grooming and other things. She catches Jonteim's nod and flashes her own smile and nod back, patience is good when it comes to the source of good food and drinks. "How are you settling in, Daranyl? Have you been able to find the Headwoman or Steward anywhere?" Did you leave your last hunting prize for them to find?

"Just a shot for now." Daranyl has to judge the quality first, dunnee? "Thank ya." He glances at Kadesh, then shrugs, "Don' think th' headwoman likes me much. Somethin' 'bout scarin' her cooks. Still haven' foun' th' steward, but I'm managin'. Ye've got some… innerestin' sorts here, though, give ya tha'. Haven' seen Kyra, though. She was s'ppose' ta show me the good huntin' spots." Someone missed a memo.

It's a good job that Jonteim has his eyes fixed hard on the bottle while he pours a drink out when Daranyl mentions having scared a cook; even with his attention fixed like that, the ghost of a smile still comes and goes across his lips, and those pale eyes brighten for a second before he gets that amusement under control. Although he puts the cork back in the top of that whiskey bottle, he leaves it sitting on (his side of) the bar, just in case there's a refill in the near future. "Ale and fried wherry feet, was it?" he asks Kadesh's way, keeping his service questions under the volume of the crossbow-guy's comments.

"Yes sir, and I'm definitely looking forward to it." Nevermind the little bit of drool forming on the corners of her mouth, nothing gets to a lady's heart faster than a delicious and delectable basket of deep fried wherry feet. Kadesh can almost taste them now. She wipes the corner of her mouth and peers over to Darn, slowly nodding her head. "He moves around alot. As for the kitchens, try not to scare them too much, they got alot of work to do. Can't have meals late on the account they want to suddenly spend more time sharpening knives and forks."

"Oy! It's not my fault they've never seen fresh-caugh' wherry b'fore!" Daranyl is innocent! He nods to Jonteim and throws the shot back in one go, managing an expression somewhere between a grimace and a smile as it makes its way down his throat and ending on a please "aaaaah. Tha's good stuff." He doesn't even look like it hurt! What's with this guy?

It's a busy but not overly busy night in the bar, with that jovial atmosphere that comes right when people are drunk enough but not too drunk, ya know? A coupla bartenders keep the drinks moving, and Jonteim's one of them, currently waiting on Daranyl (drinking whiskey) and Kadesh (drooling - yes, drooling). He gives a quick call toward a waitress about the wherry feet, then works on that ale for Kadesh, filling a glass to place tidily in front of her, swiping his dishtowel over the bartop afterward in that way bartenders have. "It'll cure what ails ya, that whiskey. Degrease a wagon-wheel, too, if ya need it." Nothing he can say about the poor kitchen staff that hasn't already been said, so he just nods. Yep, that.

Nae has a habit of making her entrance in dramatic style. Today is no exception. She marches in fresh from the beach, clad in an almost scandalous sort of blue two piece swimsuit. She strides right on up to the bar, a woman on a mission. "I need a drink!" She declares loudly and oddly chipperly, hopping up onto a barstool.

Kadesh manages a healthy drool, it's one of her womanly qualities! Nae is greeted with a smile and a nod as the weyrwoman begins slowly kicking her feet to and fro on the tall stool. "Well, suppose you're right and they do need some desensitizing. I think the weyr has 'em spoiled where the people that collect game do all the cleaning and beastcraft does the butchering before it makes it to the kitchens."

"Agreed. Shouldn' be cookin' nothin' ya don' know where it came from." Daranyl jerks a sharp nod of finality, then glances at Jonteim, "Fines' kind." He glances over at Nae as she arrives, blinks once, then nods a greeting and turns back to the bar, "Anot'er, please? My wheels're still greasy."

"Then you've come to the right place," says Jonteim, answering chipper for his own imitation of the same: it's upbeat, friendly even, but bubbly is just beyond his reach. Seeing as he's just put an ale in front of Kadesh, he's free to come do the one-arm-on-the-bar lean in front of Nae now, asking the begged question: "What'll it be?" He's got an ear pricked toward Kadesh and Daranyl still (mostly in case they start talking about scaring other members of helpstaff, not just the kitchen girls), and adds back thataway, "Bottle's there, boss." Granted, it's on 'his' side of the bar, but it's within easy reach of the crossbow-wielder, and it saves him having to break stride with getting Nae set up.

"Something with a lot of rum in it." Nae replies to Jonteim. "Beyond that? Surprise me." She leans against the bar, eyes scanning over the other patrons this evening. "Ah. Daranyl. How's it going?" She asks with a smirk. Upon spotting the drooly weyrwoman, she fires off a lazy salute. "Kadesh. Good seeing you."

Kadesh returns the lazy salute before picking up her ale and taking a sip. She closes her eyes and purrs, who needs a man when you got a good mug of ale in front of you? "Maybe you can teach our next batch of weyrlings how to dress and clean kills since it would make for good training. Catering isn't always going to be available," she mentions before putting the mug back on the table.

"Alrigh' then." Daranyl leans across the bar to snag the bottle and tops his glass off, shrugging in answer to Nae's question. What's with all these talky people? Kadesh' question earns a nod, though, "I migh' could do that, yeah. Dragon's gotta eat, after all." He rolls his neck slightly, then raises his glass to Nae before throwing it back yet again. It burns so good.

Jonteim, happily, "Rum, says the lady." And he turns to make that happen, busily waving the waitress with the basket of fried wherry-feet (seriously, wtf) toward where Kadesh has been drooling, giving the goldrider something to occupy her other than the conversation for a spell, anyway. There's the smell of lime and mint leaves, of sugar and, yep, rum while he fixes up another umbrella-drink, this one for Nae. "Dragons do a lotta dressing and cleaning kills, do they," he half-muses, half-asks over his shoulder whilst busying himself with tending bar.

Nae takes the umbrella-drink, giving Jonteim a wide smile before downing almost half of the beverage in a single, greedy gulp. "Ahhhh…." She grins and gives the bartender a grateful look. "Just perfect. Thank you." She leans on the bar and looks back to Kadesh and Daranyl. "Good stuff here, yeah?"

Daranyl jerks a quick nod to Nae, "Didn' really 'spect this place to have my kind of booze bu' I'm pleasan'ly su'pprise'." He pours himself another shot, not even considering that this might be a horrible, horrible mistake.

Nae stays leanded on the bar as she sips her drink, looking over Daranyl with something approaching amusement. "We have a pretty outstanding selection here. There are advantages to weyr life, you know." She takes another slow sip. "So. Are you drunk enough to be fun?"

"'M no' drunk." Daranyl actually sounds a little insulted at the implication. Insulted enough that he throws back that third shot, slamming the glass down on the bar to indicate just how stable he is… or… something. That said, he also doesn't seem even tipsy yet despite the rotgut he's throwing back.

Nae shrugs her shoulders and grins. "Well, with your accent, it's hard to tell." Is she kidding? Maybe. She takes another swig of her drink. "So. You liking weyr life so far?"

"Go' somethin' agains' th' way I talk?" Them's fightin' words, not that Daranyl seems that angry, just challenging her. He also doesn't pour himself another shot, though. Discretion, valor… well, not valor. Life, maybe. "Dunno wha' I think yet, hones'ly. Only been here a few days, bu' doesn' seem tha' diffren' other than the whole…" He waves his hand in the air, "Fligh' thing." Maybe he's a little tipsy, he's certainly being more talkative.

Nae lets the subject of Daranyl's manner of speech drop. Seems like a good idea, in the interests of being diplomatic. "Ah. Seen many of the flights, then?" Nae asks with a little bit of a laugh. "… Kaiath's due to rise any day now, actually. Just one more reason to be drinking."

"Jus' a couple so far. Seems like a green goes up ev'ry day er two." Grumble grumbling dragons grumble messing with his grumbling mind. Daranyl considers his glass to avoid looking at the scantily clad greenrider, "Shoul' ya be drinkin', then? Don' ya nee' ta be, I dunno, aware er somethin'?"

Nae rolls her eyes. "One drink isn't going to get me blackout drunk. Besides, being in a flight haze really isn't all that different from being drunk. You're not in control and memories get fuzzy. Then at the end of it, you wake up with a stranger in your bed."

"Tha' doesn' soun' fun a'tall." Now, Daranyl does pour himself another shot, but he doesn't throw it back yet, just absorbing the familiar, pleasant fragrance of industrial cleanser, "Wouldn' rightly know, though."

Nae shrugs her shoulders and smirks. "You get used to it. But that kind of thing is just part of weyr life. Might explain why we're more… liberated." Her grin turns a little mischievious. "So. What do you think of my weyrmate?"

Daranyl's shoulders lift and fall in that safe, familiar non-committal gesture, "Migh' be I will." He throws back the shot, keeping his eyes closed for several beats as it burns its way down, "Of Hotaru? She's nice 'nuff, I guess. Why?"

Nae downs the last of her drink, then waves the bartender over so she can get a refill. She gives Daranyl another grin, one which is still rich with mischief. "Just wondering. You two seemed to be getting along pretty well."

Daranyl just doesn't get it. The people he's spent the last twelve turns with simply never expressed mischief this way, he can't read it, the expression is totally lost on him, and it's obvious in how he doesn't rise to it at all. Instead, he just shrugs again, "Don' dislike her 'n' free food's always nice." And the opportunity to show off his archery skills, of course.

The face that Daranyl isn't rising to her bait only prompts Nae to dig deeper. She seems almost amused by the lack of reaction. "Mmm. And did you like bathing with her the other day?" She asks, taking another sip.

Daranyl's shoulders rise and fall again, "Weren' nothin' wrong wi' it. Bath's a bath, yeah?" Yeah, he's really not getting it. It's not even that he's dim, the attempt at wheedling is just missing the mark entirely.

"Was it now?" Nae responds. The mischief is very slowly starting to dim as Nae begins to suspect that Daranyl just isn't going to catch on. "… Well. If you say so." Another slow drink follows.

"Wha'? 'M I missin' somethin'?" Daranyl may at least have caught on that there's some subtext going on here that he's missing. "She's a nice 'nuff girl…"

"Nah. You'll figure it out when you come over for that dinner you won." She blinks and grins before downing the rest of her drink. Then, she stands. "Well. It was nice running into you, Darry."

Daranyl arches a brow at the nickname, totally unsure of what to say to that, so he eventually settles on not a sharding thing and just nods to her instead, "Seem ta do it a lot. Lookin' forward ta dinner." The poor boy has no idea what he's getting himself into.

"I'm sure you are." Nae says with a wink back to Daranyl before she saunters out.


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