Mayte, Va'os, D'wane, F'kan
Rocketh, Rhiscorath


A Weyrwoman, a Weyrleader and a Weyrsecond walk into a bar… and poor F'kan gets dragged along with them.


It is evening of the thirteenth day of the eleventh month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Southern Weyr - Tipsy Kitten

OOC Date 02 May 2018 05:00


rocketh_default.jpg rhiscorath_default.jpg

[OOC:] D'wane says "Love dodecahedron!"


The Tipsy Kitten

Here there be drunkards: a marble bar and the gorgeous array of colored bottles behind it would be enough to draw them in, but more yet lures those to enjoy the recreation the Kitten has to offer. Windows allow light to naturally illuminate the first floor of the tavern in the daytime, while green-tinted glows shine after nightfall. A door behind the bar leads to the tiny kitchen, while a stairway leads above to the rooms available for rent. Among the hubbub and the ruckus, a calamity of tables scatter through the open space, plenty enough for dragonpoker tournaments on restday eve.

Long after most people have left their work for the day, had supper, and gone to their individual evening amusements, a forlorn figure commands one of the larger tables to herself. It's conveniently in a corner, and of course the figure, draped in some sort of dark grey lace, sits there with an indecently large glass of wine and shuffling a deck of cards. It looks like she's playing solitaire. A figure sits in front of her, some hopeful and fresh-faced Herder boy, wilting as she reveals his fate: "Sverin. Alas, Taytay is… TAKEN!" One last card is slapped down, interrupting the game; the seven of hearts. Sverin slinks away sulkily and Mayte goes for a large gulp of wine, waiting and looking around for her next… client.

Va'os is tempting fate tonight by finally caving and risking heading into the Kitten! The Weyrleader wants a drink (or three) and doesn't necessarily want to ruin his meticulously gathered stash. He makes a direct line for the bar, barely casting a glance about the room as he flags down the bartender. "Just the usual, thanks!" he orders cheerfully, despite acting like he's on edge. When his drink is served and he's paid, he'll turn just in time to see Sverin slinking off. His gaze follows the boy out, before darting to the source. If he makes eye contact with Mayte, is that just as dangerous? He'd heard… things. Funny how gossip spreads, in a Weyr! He's going to linger by the bar for now, though he's intently watching to see who is lured in next.

For some very loose interpretations of 'dinner', beer can totally count. Shortly after Va'os enters, D'wane makes his own appearance and straight to the bar he goes. Not just one glass of ale would be acceptable for the mountain of a man tonight. Why waste time with having to get refills? He just straight up orders an entire pitcher and then looks for a table. By pure luck, the very first table that he happens to spot is Mayte's and he freezes with that glass held right up to his lips, foot still in the air. Maybe weyrwomen are like raptors and only respond to movement. If he's very, very still… maybe she won't see him? Or hopefully Va'os won't give him away.

There is a definite skip in F'kan's step as the brownrider whistles a jaunty tune as he meanders his way up to the bar. Dressed in a pair of loose shorts and a simple sleeveless tunic. Slapping his hand down on the bar, he orders a pint of ale before he looks to one side and sees the Weyrleader and Weyrsecond already there. "Evening Sirs." he greets with a tick of two fingers to his temple before his glance is taken to that table in the corner and the Weyrwoman there. Great, all the leadership types are here this evening. But why are two bronzeriders over here looking as if they are actively avoid notice by Mayte? F'kan jsut needs to know. "So what's going on?" he asks.

Looking around a little wildly, Mayte waves her obnoxiously indecent wineglass at a barmaid wandering. The Kitten staff are used to her by now and take it before it gets cracked on something. As the maid scuttles away, Mayte looks up suddenly, as if scenting danger… (Un)fortunately, it's not the movement that catches Mayte's eye because the whole of the bar is, but the lack of it: "D'WANE!" the goldrider hollers, waving the poor man over. "Come, sit with me! I have this huge table ALL to myself!" And because it'd be rude and there's no such thing as confidentiality laws on Pern, "Va'os! C'mere! Bring your… friend!" Whatever that implies.

Va'os doesn't even get the chance to give D'wane's presence away! Mayte singles him out and the Weyrleader is about to do a sly disappearing act when… too late! He's caught as well and he merely lifts his glass up. He'll be there in a second! Belatedly, he'd heard and seen F'kan's approach but had been hyper focused on evading the goldrider's attention (and failed). So now, the brownrider is given a broad, broad grin and an all too friendly. "F'kan!" My man! Complete with an attempted drape of his free arm over the other man's shoulders. NO ESCAPING NOW! "Y'see… can't really explain. Why don't you join us?" Not that he has much of a choice in the matter now? Not with Va'os steering them both towards Mayte's table. "Y'sure we're not intruding?" He gestures between her and D'wane.

It's a good thing that D'wane doesn't try to be sneaky often since inevitably any attempts usually end up backfiring horribly… like Exhibit A. The Tipsy Kitten on the thirteenth day of the eleventh month of the thirteenth turn of the pass…. The first beer is promptly drained in on go as a rapid boost of liquid courage before he decides bolting is not an option (Rhiscorath could be sitting outside the Kitten for all he knows) and bregrudgingly shuffles over to Maytes table, although sullenly choosing the seat that's as FAR away from the probably proddy goldrider as he can. "Aww, but it looked like Sve-whatsit was doing such a good job keeping you company. Should we call him back?" Followed with some desparate eye glances at his fellow trapped riders and a not so subtle head tilt towards the door.

Oh look the Weyrleader is grinning at F'kan in an rather unsettling way. The bronzerider's comraderie is suspect to say the least, he's never had much of a raport with weyrleadership before, actively pissing them off with by being stupid is what he's used to. Now the man has his arm around his shoulders and the brownrider is helpless but to go along with it. Grabbing his pint as he's lead over to the Weyrwoman's table, he will offer a respectful bob of his head, "Evening Weyrwoman," just standing there doing what he does best, looking pretty until he figures out what exactly is expected of him.

Such gentlemen! Such manners! "No, sit, sit!" Mayte insists, gesturing at the chairs that go empty before her. Her refreshed wineglass arrives in time to distract for the briefest of seconds as she accepts it… "No!" Fingers snap and point at the young fisherman hoping to wander off with one of the unused chairs: "THAT is reserved! For him!" Mayte points at F'kan imperiously, then to the seat. The fisherman drops the chair and limps away, going back to his pathetic, rickety table. Mayte now turns her attention back to D'wane, Va'os, and D'wane: "No! Oh, never mind young Sverin. He's just found out his paramour loves another. He'll be fine." Young love and that crap. Suddenly, dark eyes narrow at D'wane and relax: "But you… oh, no, you poor thing. I didn't know…"

F'kan will learn another valuable lesson today! Always have an exit quick at hand! Especially if Va'os looks to be in too good a mood! Which he's doing right now. Since the brownrider gets he chair of honour, he'll release the other man with a bit of a mock flourished half bow. There's even a rough whispered: "Good luck!" He's on his own now! Va'os? Is going to edge as close as he can get to D'wane's far-away seat and not be too obvious about it! "Damn, that's rough." he chimes about Sverin. "Poor kid!" Whether he really means it? Who knows. When D'wane becomes Mayte's next target, he'll just try not to look too relieved (and oh-so damn curious). He'll tip his glass to him. "Nice knowing ya?"

D'wane makes a probably appropriate grunt of supposed empathy for poor Sverin's unrequited love and ALMOST has a chance to settle into his seat F'kan seems to have gotten Mayte's attention, but NOOOOOO. Then it's all back to poor D'wane and he just raises an eyebrow. A single eyebrow, as the weyrwoman starts her little spiel, although he'll take his attention off holding the eyebrow up dubiously long enough to try and toss an elbow over to nudge Va'os in the ribs along with a mutter. "You don't shut up and it'll be your turn."

F'kan jumps as Mayte points at him, not sure he likes the idea of being singled out by the Weyrwoman while she's acting so peculiar. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, the brownrider is slow on the uptake and can't put two and two together apparently. Grinning like an idiot back at the Weyrleader when he offers him luck, F'kan gives Va'os a puzzled look before slipping into the offered chair. But then D'wane gets Mayte's focus and the brownrider settles back in the chair casually and sips at his drink while he watches whatever show this is going to turn into.

Mournfully at D'wane: "So much frustration. But I understand." Mayte turns to smile a little at Va'os and F'kan: "It's really hard when he loves so much." Back to the Weyrsecond. Mayte gathers her cards, doesn't even bother shuffling them and starts a new game of solitaire. Each time, she flips over three cards from her hand, and eyes that top one: "You're very good at not showing your preference, but someday, the pressure will overtake you, D'wane." Now, Mayte's tone is sorrowful, one can almost hear the tears in her voice: "One day, you'll have to make a choice. Your Wingleaders won't let you have them all, D'wane. I'm sorry." With that, Mayte takes her glass of wine and sips. He didn't even have to ask a question!

D'wane leans over towards Va'os to give a bit of a whisper, but then… the man is more used to yelling orders than whispering so everybody else at the table can probably here as well. "So am I supposed to choose on of the wingleaders or share something with them???" Dang Mayte, leaving all these 'fortunes' so ambigious. As for the goldrider, he does give a rather somber nod. "Huh. Well, I guess that's good to know." AND HE'S MOST DEFINITELY NOT ASKING ANOTHER QUESTION, although he will shoot a glance at F'kan as if daring the brownrider to giggle.

What's that sound? That's Va'os laughing into his pint… or maybe it's him trying not to choke on the ale he's just consumed! Either way, he's definitely snickering up a storm and D'wane's earlier nudge to his ribs does nothing to stop him. "… this is fucking awesome…" he manages to breathe between chortled breaths. There's a side glance to F'kan and that broad grin again, brows lifting. Eh? Isn't this great? "Hey, it's not that I'm afraid or anything! I just… didn't want to be first!" Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that! He leans closer to D'wane and returns, stage whisper style. "I think it's your call, man!" Va'os is probably NOT the guy to ask, either.
D'wane has all the puppies hoarded up in his weyr and just didn't want to share.

Any thought at chuckling at D'wane is whisked right out of F'kan's mind as he sees that look from the massive Weyrsecond. With an audible gulp, he goes for another sip of his drink while pointedly ignoring ant side glances from the Weyrleader, just nodding noncommitally in his general direction for now. Looking briefly between the the other two men, F'kan will shrug and decide he may as well join in the fun, once again displaying his faulty sense of self-preservation. But he definitely doesn't want to lose face in front of the two bronzeriders, so he drops a voice to a whispers and leans in towards Mayte, his eyes dropped nervously,"So, can you tell me if it's going to last between me and this girl I'm seeing, Devana?" Of course they are all seated at the same table, so there's a good chance Va'os and D'wane will hear him anyway.

If they weren't ambiguous, they would be refutable! But Mayte totally meant 'in bed'. D'wane's lovelorn future now cast, the goldrider's eyes and mind turn to Va… F'kan! The first man foolish enough to ask a question! "Young man," Mayte says gravely, gathering her cards once again and the solitare begins again, "You… and Devana… Devana… and you." Pause for dramatic effect. The first set of three cards that goes down has Mayte's nose squinching. The next three, her expression smooths. "Devana adores you, young F'kan, but she can give you of herself only what she can." Grammar be damned. Another three cards go down: "But watch out! Her mother seeks to interfere!" This'll be really awkward if Devana's mother is dead. "In Devana's mind, you see. Also, fear short, darkhaired strangers who might intervene. If you fend them off though, you and Devana," whom Mayte notably does not know, "shall be inarguably happy." It's enough to make Mayte's eyes well with happy tears. HAPPY TEARS DAMMIT!
[OOC:] Mayte says "(please don't smite me, Devana)"
[OOC:] Mayte says "(at least I didn't promise you fifty children between the two of you)"

D'wane's bed is not a clown car (or clown cart?)! He probably can't even fit all the wingleaders in his weyr, let alone in his bed. He just rolls his eyes at the other bronzerider before refilling his drink from his own pitcher and listening to F'kan's fortune with a growing grin. It's funny when it's not him in the hotseat. "You might want to watch Quaverilth, F'kan… or Mayte might end up being that short, darkhaired stranger." Yeah… he went there.

Va'os can't help it and the snickering returns when F'kan tempts fate and receives his long fortune. Snickering becomes full blown laughter for D'wane's threat! This is why you don't bring the Weyrleader places, people! Or Va'os, in this case. Laughter tapers back to low chuckles, half masked by him draining the last of his ale. "Nice one," quipped to D'wane, while he gives F'kan a half-apologetic side glance. Sorry, man! It was a good one! "At least it wasn't a complete raw deal?" Like that Herder boy! Setting his now empty glass on the table, Va'os will roll his shoulders and sit a little straighter. Like he's bracing for the worst Mayte can throw at him! "What'd you got in store for me?" he asks, with no direct question because he has to be difficult.

"Wow!" F'kan whispers, completely in awe of the Weyrwoman and her fortune reading skills, "That's amazing! It's like you know her!" He shakes his head slowly back and forth as he leans forward again, quite literally to the edge of his seat. "We just talked the other day about why we can't be open with her family yet." Flabbergasted, the brownrider leans back in his chair before looking from bronzerider to bronzerider, "She's good." D'wane's comment does make him raise a puzzled brow just a little bit as the point the Weyrsecond is trying to make once more flies clear over the brownrider's head. Good thing Devana doesn't mind being the smart one in that relationship.

<Southern Weyr> Rocketh senses that: A quiet spring night on white sand beaches it is not to be tonight, because along with the waves crashing in comes the sound of drums along with some rather loud singing as well. « Hey! What has two wings and pulled up the sky, when you were hardening in an egg? This guy! When nights got cold, who stole you fire from down below? You're looking at him, yo! » So that may have been directed at a particularly shiny lady… but volume control this bronze does not have. (Rocketh)

<Southern Weyr> Rocketh senses that: In the midst of this barrage of… noise, the library slams shut! Such revelry, such nuisance! « SHHHHHHHHH! » and then after some consideration of admired ink, an addition. « Don't get sand in my books! » (Rhiscorath)

Mayte beams so happily for F'kan, because doesn't Everyone Love Happy Endings? She nods and pats the table in front of F'kan's hand: "I'm so happy for you." If only Pern had cameras, to record this for when Mayte isn't proddy anymore. Another sip of wine and Mayte's eyes dart to D'wane: "You better watch it," she retorts with a slash of one card, the jack of clubs, "Or Rocketh won't be invited." Like there's an RSVP system. And now, Va'os speaks up, drawing the goldrider's attention to him; she scoffs, doesn't even pick up her cards: "Pfah. Va'os, if you can get Ardstelle to look at you with half the passion she looks at a stick of butter, you'll be lucky. No, no, Ardstelle will never love you like you deserve." Who's coming out the worse for this? Mayte will never tell. "Va'os, my friend," who she occasionally yells at when he's wrong, "You should be with someone who'll appreciate you for who you are! Someone like Setena!" Naming the youngest, most insipid, cow-eyed-but-definitely-crushing-on-the-Weyrleader nanny to the Weyr: "She loves children, you love children. She changes diapers, you wash a dragon. You'll be so happy together!

<Southern Weyr> Rocketh senses that: «I wouldn't dare! The stares…» And on and on the drum beat goes, accompanied by the ever catchy humming until surely other acts of bravado will come to Rocketh and sing them he will. So what if they aren't even physically possible? He did them. See… he'll even paint smoky pictures of the valorous acts. But books… books aren't in his vocabulary. (Rocketh)

<Southern Weyr> Rocketh senses that: Duh that's why there's a library… (Rhiscorath)
Try projecting to someone or something!

<Southern Weyr> Rocketh senses that: Rocketh thinks « To fill it with how awesome I am? »

<Southern Weyr> Rocketh senses that: That's the Children's Section. (Rhiscorath)

<Southern Weyr> Rocketh senses that: Rocketh will make sure to pick out only the best stories to tell our eggs.

<Southern Weyr> Rocketh senses that: Rhiscorath is too much of a lady to engage in such… behaviours! (ignore the last 10 Turns or so) (Rhiscorath)

Don't laugh, don't laugh don't—- okay, that lasted all of like two seconds before D'wane bursts out laughing and continues to keep laughing all through Va'os's 'fortune' before he quickly decides to get up and pat other bronzerider on the back. "Just let me know when I should get some presents for your weyrwarming. Looks like you'll need a bigger weyr for all them kids." Nevermind the weyrleader's ledge is one of the larger ones, sans those goldrider ledges. "Next round's on me." But he's not going to stick around for the next round as there's a pillar to disappear behind right over there and D'wane is never seen in the Kitten again… at least for tonight.

Don't worry, by the end of the night, the Kitten will be ringing with the rousing chorus of how D'wane loves all his Wingleaders equally…
To be sung to the tune of Mambo #5.
Tsiroth approves.

"Aww, she won't?" Va'os is taking none of it seriously! His mouth threatens to twitch in to a foolish grin but he's trying so hard to keep a deadpan expression. "Not even a love-hate sort've deal? Was hoping to keep that going!" He feigns disappointment, slumping back in his seat as he turns his head to D'wane first, then F'kan. "Y'hear that? She says I need to give up!" Shoulders lift in a shrug. The next suggestion is met with choked back laughter. "I'll uh…" Heh. Heh! "Let Rielle know!" He's kidding! No he's not. He's telling Rielle about this! Come on, would anyone expect anything less? D'wane's pat on his back is met with a lopsided grin and some good natured attempted swipe at. "Very funny, man!" That next round is going to end up being ALL for F'kan to enjoy! Because once D'wane is leaving, Va'os isn't very far behind! He'll linger a bit longer, before tipping his fingers in a farewell gesture to Mayte. "Been lovely, but I've got to go!" Excuses? HE GIVES NONE! Va'os is just going to push back his chair, stand and… make a (polite) break for it.

Add a New Comment