Who

Alyna, Nathan, Z'an

What

Two Ocelots and a harper, incognito in a low dive in Black Rock!

When

It is evening of the twenty-fifth day of the fifth month of the nineteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Black Rock Dockside Tavern

OOC Date 25 Feb 2020 00:00

 

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Black Rock Dockside Tavern

A long, low, dimly lit space down by the waterfront, this tavern isn't hiding what it is: a place to get a drink and maybe some company. Stone floors, littered with peanut shells; raw timbers for a ceiling; wooden tables, pitted and grooved and often grimy; a long bar against the backwall with dusty bottles lining the shelves behind it - it's a dive bar, plain and simple. Glowlights here and there cast a yellowish illumination through secondhand baskets, deepening shadows. Ale, beer, whiskey, brandy hard liquor and quick drinks are easy to come by, but don't try asking the barkeep for any specialty mixed drinks. There's not much of a menu to speak of, either: just bread baked every other day and thick seafood stew, served in wooden bowls with crappy spoons.

There's a kitchen behind the bar with a storeroom attached to it. A couple of side rooms are available for rent, complete with cruddy beds and locks on the doors. The place is never completely empty, a bartender and at least one waitress milling around. When the place is really hopping, it's loud and busy, full of sailors and waitstaff, and tavern girls willing to keep a man company if he needs it (and can afford it).


After a storm meant that drills and PT were shortened for Ocelot that day, Alyna began to feel restless as if she had more steam to blow off than she had a chance to. After supper with her weyrmate and child, she begged D'har's forgiveness, explaining she needed to get out for a bit. And the bluerider was more than accomodating, his weyrmate's ways more than familiar after so many Turns together, just told her to be careful and have fun. The Kitten was considered a moment, but she didn't want to go to one of her usual haunts. She wanted to go somewhere different tonight. Haquith, her chartreuse hide just starting to get that bit of icandescence, secretly reaches out to a few favorite males, and invites them to come keep her busy while her lifemate gets her drink on, a certain wingsecond's bronze among them. As the green finds herself a spot to perch outside Black Rock, her rider, knotless, finds herself a perfect little dive of a dockside tavern. With a wicked smile, she heads towards the bar to order a bottle of firewhiskey and a single glass.

Naturally, the customers of a tavern like this include a lot of folk from the various ships that pass through. One of them's a man who might be middle aged or elderly. He's not tall but looks fit and wiry. Greying dark hair is short, though brushed forward over a receding hairline. He has the deep tan of someone who spends his days outside. His hands are those of a workman, and they're currently holding a large mug of what passes for the best beer here. He's seated with his back to the wall, not far from the bar but with a good view of the door and the rest of the room. He appears to be alone, and his expression is rather morose. When he sees Alyna come in, his eyes rest on her for only a moment, then he looks down into his tankard.

It's a a hole. Scratch that, a hole might be more appealing. Z'an isn't a wet behind the ears, fresh out of the creche little youngling, but so far in his life he's managed to avoid dive bars such as these. But Kharnith couldn't say no to such a lovely green, and Z'an couldn't say no to his dragon. Also, it doesn't feel right letting his wingleader walk into a place like this, no matter how cool and capable she is (but you won't get him saying /that/ out loud). So he's swallowed his pride, stuffed his knot in his pocket (paranoia ahoy), and ventured into the depths. They really need more light, but whatever seafood concoction they have cooking away smells not half bad. The bar turns into his personal leaning post as he waits for a gap in the clientele.

Once she's got a bottle in one hand and her glass in the other, Alyna turns and practically runs into a certain wingsecond, blinking in surprise before she registers that it's really him. "Oh! Hi! What's a nice man like you doing in a place like this?" she asks him with a smirk and a tilt of her head. "If you wanted to join me, I'm going to be…." she scans the room and spies a small table nearby, not that far from where the middle-aged man is seated. "right there! But I'm off duty tonight, so…please don't give me away," she adds, dropping her voice as she leans in and locks eyes briefly with him, hoping for understanding, before she makes a dash for the table, blocking a couple of rough seacrafters from snagging it. "Sorry fellas! Too slow!" she teases as she slips into a chair and pulls the stopper from her bottle before filling her glass. The two look breifly perplexed and mildly annoyed at the little blonde woman, but decide to find somewhere else to park themselves.

The group at the table beyond the solitary sailor - for sailor he appears to be: he certainly doesn't look anything like a master of the Harper Craft - call to the two seacrafters displaced by Alyna. He obligingly shifts his table over a little, beer and all, to allow them to squeeze in with their mates, and they snag the remaining chairs at his table on their way, ensuring his isolation - and his clear view of the two dragonriders. As the woman sits, he gives her a respectful nod: whatever they two of them are or are pretending to be, they look as if they're above him in Pern's pecking order!

Live and in person, it's Z'an, and he hasn't managed to come up with a reason for being here yet, Alyna, give him a moment. About the only thing he can manage to do is tap a finger against his lips, a silent promise to his wingleader not to give her away. Hoping that's a promise that he can keep, he orders, and waits. Finally, with a bowl in one hand, spoon tucked behind his ear, and an ale in the other, Z'an crosses the floor to join Alyna, expression calmly blank as he sweeps his eyes over the surroundings. Those at the tables nearby get a polite ackowledgement nod of their existence as Z'an seats himself.

A nod of greeting is exchanged with the man at the table next to her before Alyna downs her first shot of fire whiskey, hissing softly at the burn as she shakes her head to get through it, hoping the alcohol dulls the buzz that is starting to become just a bit more prevalent than normal along the link with her green. The sailors who make their way over to join their buddies grumble some probably unflattering things about Alyna to their buddies, thankfully not loud enough for the greenrider to hear, though the solitary sailor might be able to catch a couple things. Once Z'an joins her, Alyna is all smiles as she pours herself another drink, sniffing wearily at whatever is in his bowl. "You're a brave man, to eat in a place like this," she says as she slips off her short riding jacket to reveal a haltertop that shimmers in a soft orange material and drapes itself over her chest, leaving shoulders bared. Paired with slim cut pants, she's cutting a fine figure even this evening and it's garnering some notice. "So really… what brings you to Black Rock?" she asks Z'an then, holding her glass between her hands, hovering just below her lips as she awaits his answer.

When Alyna takes off her jacket, showing that snazzy outfit, wolf-whistles erupt from the table of sailors. The man on his own hisses at them, "Keep it down, lads. Skipper won't want no trouble in here." One of the men grumbles, "Shaffit, Nat, let a man have a bit of fun. Just because you're the skipper's cousin, don't give you the right to boss us around." Which may explain why he's not actually sitting with his shipmates. Nat turns to Alyna and Z'an. "Don't mind them: they don't mean no harm." His speech, like that of the others, is that of a northern seahold. He lowers his voice to add, "We're all good lads, off the Sea Belle, but this ain't a classy place."

"Broadening my horizons," is the straight faced answer that Z'an has for Alyna, before he stares at the bowl before setting it on the table. "Well, it'll be an adventure, anyway." Spoon is retrived, and set in the bowl, but left untouched. Alyna is given an admiring look (he's not blind), but Z'an quite visibly squelches his urge to retort when the wolfwhistling starts. The man on his own jumping in loosens the tense set of Z'an's shoulder, and get the mug of ale raised in his direction in a silent toast.

"Always a good thing to do," Alyna replies before she downs her second shot. The wolfwhistling doesn't seem to bother the greenrider, indeed, her smirk seems to deepen by it as she places the shot glass back on the table. She smiles at the man they called Nat, and shrugs her shoulders, "I'm familiar with sailors and their ways, I take no offense. You all be careful out there. Talk of pirates getting bold again." she offers, filling her glass once more. Noting the tenseness in Z'an's shoulders, she chuckles, "Easy now. I'm a big girl, I can more than handle myself."

"Aye, so we've heard." Nat raises his glass to Z'an and Alyna, and takes a hearty gulp before continuing cheefully, "None's come near the Belle so far, but I know our Captain worries, what with us carrying craft goods and traders' cargoes, like we do. We'll take good care, don't you worry." He doesn't seem to have any qualms about advertising this interesting fact: there's no attempt to moderate his voice now, and he must have been audible at surrounding tables. Doesn't he know that loose lips sink ships?

There's always something coming up, and when nature calls, there's nothing else to do but answer it. With a quiet muttered apology to both Alyna and to Nat, Z'an is rising to his feet again, and vanishing outside after pausing to ask the barman for directions to the nearest latrine. His ale and stew are up for grabs for anyone who wants a free meal, since the incognito bronzerider doesn't return any time soon. Here's hoping he didn't fall in the privy. (discretion is the better part of valor, and after consideration, Z'an didn't want to be starting any fistfights about manners, as Kharnith will gleefully share.)

Nodding absently as Z'an takes himself off to the little sailors' room, Alyna turns back in the direction of the loose lipped back next to her, pale eyes flashing amusement. "Are all sailors so free with their cargo?" she giggles softly before taking another drink. In some dark corner, less savoury sorts are very likely taking note of the Belle's cargo, information to be passed on to even less savory ears. "Well let me drink to a safe voyage for you and yours then," she adds, before taking yet another shot of firewhisket. In his absence, Z'an's stew is eyed, and with the fork a small piece of crustacean finds itself speared and then headed right for her mouth. "Hmmmm, not bad," she mutters to herself, helping herself to another couple bites.

"Aww, there's nobody to hear but us lads of her crew." Nat sounds confident of that, even if he's in error. When Alyna drinks to their voyage, he raises his beer in response. "Thankee kindly, lady." He leans forward "We're up from Southern Weyr. The place is full of talk about a load of metal that went missing from their Smiths. They reckon pirates got the ship." Dropping his voice to a more confidential tone, he continues. "O'course, that meant they needed another carrier." He catches her eyes in a a significant gaze

"Aww, there's nobody to hear but us lads of her crew." Nat sounds confident of that, even if he's in error. When Alyna drinks to their voyage, he raises his beer in response. "Thankee kindly, lady." He leans forward "We're up from Southern Weyr. The place is full of talk about a load of metal that went missing from their Smiths. They reckon pirates got the ship." Dropping his voice to a more confidential tone, he continues. "O'course, that meant they needed another carrier." He catches her eyes with a significant gaze, then gives a deep nod of the sort that often means something important has been said - or implied, and smiles rather smugly. "So, you can put marks on us being careful this trip, yes indeed." He glances towards the door. "Is your friend all right? I wouldn't trust the stew in here…"

"Aye, I heard that too. Pirates…what a bunch of assholes," Alyna replies none too delicately. Understanding dawns on her as she nods a bit back in a knowing way towards the older man. "I'm not sure I'd go so far as to put marks on a safe journey, but I certainly hope that you are right about that." As for Z'an, the greenrider shrugs her shoulders with another chuckle. "I'm sure he'll be back. And don't worry about me, I have guts of steel." She demonstrates this by tapping her midsection. But she does put down the fork and takes another swig straight from the bottle this time. Pale eyes trail over the crowds, picking out a couple prospects, roguish types that catch her eye from across the room.

Nathan follows where Alyna is looking, then drains his tankard. "Well, if you'll excuse me, lady, I'll leave you in peace. You enjoy your evening, now, and take care." With no more reason given for his departure, he stands and makes his way over to the bar, where he's soon involved in another conversation, maybe dropping more hints as to his ship's supposed good fortune.

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