==== December 20th, 2013
==== Lyllian, S'kyre, Atzi
==== Folk drop in and out of the Cantina.

Who Lyllian, S'kyre, Atzi
What Folk drop in and out of the Cantina.
When There are 0 turns, 5 months and 3 days until the 12th pass.
Where Igen Weyr

twins.jpg lyllian.jpg atzi.jpg

Dustbowl Cantina
To enter the Dustbowl Cantina is to descend: the heart of the ancient tavern lies half underground, at the foot of ancient steps, insulated from summer heat and winter cold by the volcanic rock surrounding it. A windowless place well-lit by glows, it is homey, even cozy, with a certain bijou charm - but for the deep gouges worn in wooden table and solid stone, some //clearly lingering evidence of boisterous brawling. The wall behind the well-polished bar, though, remains free from scars or graffiti, as does the door into the small kitchen, and the stairwell up into the owner's quarters: the barkeep and his staff reign, and they guard their territory well. After all, only a fool angers the source of the booze.//

This hot afternoon, the adventurous weyrbrat Lyllian wanders once more into the Dustbowl Cantina. Without worry of the adult population, she meanders through the regular crowd to crawl up onto a barstool. In fact, it seems to be the same one she hopped up on not long ago, conveniently available again. Once they're free to, her legs swing below her seat, forward and back. "Hello, 'keep," she greets with a smile.

Atzi looks tired. Strung out. The sudden fall at the Gather has shaken her quite a bit. Her smile of greeting for Lyllian is genuine, but doesn't quite make it to her eyes. "Hello Lyllian. The usual?" She poises to pour the drink, arching a brow, "Escape the nannies again?"

Lyllian gives an enthusiastic nod back to Atzi. The young girl doesn't seem nearly as phased as the woman, as she had avoided the Gather. That's probably a good thing considering how traumatizing it could have been. She doesn't initially pick up on Atzi's tiredness, however. "The usual, please," she says politely, bringing her arms up and clasping them atop the bar in patient wait. Of course, at the second question, her smile grows into a grin. "Maybe. My morning lessons are complete." Because lesson status is an excuse for anything.

Atzi nods, pouring the juice and serving it up. "Mmmhmm." She glances at an hourglass marking the time. "And afternoon lessons?"

"One," Lyllian replies, with no remorse in her young voice. "But I did very well." As her legs swing gently below the bar. "I wish I coulda gone to the Gather," she says bluntly. However, she does amend the comment, adding, "Before the Thread thing. I wanted to see all of the pretty costumes."

Expressive brows tick up in query, "What was it?" She busies herself behind the bar when talk of the Gather begins. Unneccessarily pushing hair behind her ear, "I'd have like to have seen them too. What would you have gone to the masquerade as?"

Ignoring the question about her lesson, like any young child would if they could get away with it, Lyllian sits up a bit as she explains, "A gold firelizard, all sparkly and stuff, with little wings I could flap. Like so." And with hands in her pits, she gives off a few flaps. "And I'd be the prettiest flitter there. What about you?"

Lyllian's eyes light up in a smile as the gold comes down to share her greetings. After giving her own glance towards Atzi, her hand reaches out for the gold to look over, sniff and otherwise determine she's an okay gal. The blue, on the other hand, is given a smile, but seemingly ignored at the start as Lyllian seems to focus her attention. It's moments later when why is clear, and Tardy poofs out into the air with a few annoying, almost on-rhythm screeches to join the pair on the bar in a rather abrupt manner. Lyllian, with her free hand, takes a sip of her redfruit juice, enjoying this little impromptu firelizard party.

The lean little gold preens and sniffs delicately at Lyllian's hand before rubbing a jaw along the little fingers. Atzi laughs, eyes sharing a bit this time. She holds up a finger at Lyllian as what can only be the girl's own blue blinks in. She ducks out of sight and returns with a meatroll, quickly sliced up and served on a little plate. The gold gives one last rub to the fingers and hops to the plate, mantling a bit if the blues attempt to take their share. Just because. Then she relents and lowers her wings. Cualli, used to the routine, sniffs at Tardy and chirrs excitedly before hopping to the plate himself.

Lyllian giggles at the display, watching them with great interest as they move over to the meat roll and begin to feast. "Remember to share, Tardy," she warns her own blue as he chirps that same rather odd squack and dances around the plate. Grabbing some of the meatroll, he appears to inhale it immediately before the gold could have any say over the piece he selected. "He has an endless tummy," she explains to Atzi. Looking back at the two other flitters, she asks, "What are their names?"

"Teocuitlatl," Atzi points, indicating the gold, "And Cualli," the blue. Instead of bowing up and hissing the little gold, alarmed, inhales her own chunk of meatroll. Cualli, not interested in any squabbles, but not wanting to bolt the treat grabs his chunk and hops away to eat, darting worried glances at the other two. He's ready to bolt again if they so much as look at him funny, but he won't be rushed. Atzi cocks her head, "I think they're all pretty much that way. What's yours called?"

Lyllian takes another sip at the juice before setting the glass down and turning her full attention on the flitters again. Blue Tardy is quick to snag another piece of meatroll, now seemingly in some sort of nomming competition with the gold as it's down his gullet in only a few seconds time. "Mine's Tardy, but he's almost never late, so it's a funny name." But the girl is quick to scold him, cutting in, "Now now, Tardy, chew it like the grown-up you are."

Atzi smiles at the girl scolding her blocky blue, "Back to my earlier question," she clears her throat, "What was your afternoon lesson?" The firelizards make quick work of the meatroll and Atzi takes the plate, wiping the counter as she waits for Lyllian's reply.

"Oh, I didn't?" Lyllian fibs, smiling sweetly up to Atzi, her fingers back out to tease the pretty gold with. "Well…" Feet swing beneath her as she appears to stall a moment before responding. "I copied down the words of Red Star Passes for my writing test. …'Withers' is really hard to spell…" Tardy shuffles his rather blocky self to the gold to sniff her out a few.

Atzi's eyes flicker, paling under her warm brown skin. A pretty timely lesson, but a little too soon after the Fall for Atzi's liking. She nods, clearing her throat, "Spelling. That was never my favorite. I did enjoy reading though. Do you have a favorite?" The little gold, snack now snacked, sees pettings in the offing and insinuates herself in front of the little girl.

Lyllian rubs the little flitter lovingly, her finger tracing her eye ridges with careful movements. "The Golden Egg of Faranth, for sure. It's so pretty to read and sing. I never hear some of the songs from the Oldtime, though. But it might be because Holds aren't Weyrs and Weyrs aren't Holds." And maybe because they were mostly ones her mother sang. She finishes off the juice and peers in the direction of the hourglass. "Shardingfardlesnickers," the girl pseudo-cusses in a loud whisper. "I gotta 'nother lesson and I'm gonna be late!" Tardy screeches a few times while his eyes whirl blue, and hops over to Lyllian's shoulder.

"Oh, that is a good one." And the dream of so many young girls. Teoccuitlatl croons at the girl. Cualli slumps in relief that he can enjoy his treat in peace. Atzi's eyesbrows raise at the pseudo-language. "That's a new one. Well, off with you then," she flaps her towel at the girl. "Hup- That's a 1/16 mark, if you please."

"Okay, okay!" Lyllian replies, giving a bit of a laugh as she quickly fumbles through her markpurse. The sixteenth pops out and is placed on the bar and slid over to Atzi. "Thank you!" she calls, then runs out the door, Tardy clinging tightly to the shoulder of her garment as the pair dodge the patrons in their chairs on her way out. Exit, stage right.

S'kyre wanders in after his brown 'lizard, "You have… There he is," Gazebo hisses softly as he curls around one of the support beams, "Gaze, would you stop. I promise, no one's going to eat you," a sigh and a shrug is given as he finally settles himself at the bar. Stupid little 'lizard.

"Definitely no one in here," Atzi looks out over the assembled patrons. A sparse lot. "It's always quiet when you're here." She squints at the brownrider, looking him up and down, "Like the aura of your presence sends right-minded folk away." She smiles, flipping the towel she'd flapped at the scarpering girl over her shoulder. The quarter mark goes into the lockbox. "What'll you have? On your tab."

S'kyre grins, "Me? Send people… Never," well maybe just a little, "That one," thumb jammed towards Gazebo, "Is convinced that Ats was trying to eat him. He's still not sure that someone won't try," scarred firelizard, "Should have sent him back to the weyr," this said softly, and mostly to himself, "Oh, ughm. Klah?"

Atzi smiles at the brownrider, eyes shadowed, looking a bit drawn. She looks up at the anxious flitter. "Aww… c'mere little guy. No one's gonna eat you here." She holds out a hand for a moment, welcoming Gazebo down. If he doesn't take her up on the offer, she fishes a peanut out of one of the bartop dishes and tosses it up. Food was usually a good enticement for firelizards. And men. "Klah." She'd normally tease, 'slow down, hoss' or something like it. But now, after the sudden Fall, sober riders seemed like a very good thing. That was bad for business, but it hardly seemed to matter.

Gazebo tilts his head before he glides down to the counter top. He tilts his head again at Atzi before he's hopping closer to her. His eyes whirl slow, but still show distress even after this much time.

"He'll settle down once there's an established pattern," S'kyre says softly, "Thanks, Atzi was it?" because he's pretty sure he'd heard the woman's name, "For now, klah's enough," because Thread. The rider's shoulder is bandaged, but this is hidden under his tunic.

"Atzi," she reapeats. Atzi spends a moment coaxing the little brown flit, murmuring to him quietly. "You sit right there, I'll get you something to eat." She bustles about setting the pot on for klah and, careful to keep the brownrider in sight, "Anything to eat for you?" They have snacks mostly, if S'kyre's a frequenter, he knows this.

S'kyre drops the required marks on the counter, and leaves. Gazebo choses to remain behind.

The brownrider makes quick work of his klah and bolts when Atzi sees to anther patron. She looks around warily for anything, twitching or ticking or smoking… and sees the marks, "But," she holds them up, the door shuts with a solid thunk, "You already had a… tab." Atzi sighs, drops the coin in the lockbox and marks down more money on S'kyre's tab.

Gazebo warbles softly as he hops a little closer to Atzi. She's nice. She'll keep that big mean brown dragon from eating him. Warble pitifully, and hop a little closer. He's small. He can fit neatly in a pocket.

Awww. She sure will. Atzi extends a hand slowly to the scared little flitter. Watching him out of the corner of her eye. Making nice with the timid little flit is a good distraction from the stresses of the day.

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