F'mond gives a salute as first Th'bek and then Diem both go their own separate ways. And what's a man to do on a sweltering summer evening but spend as much of it drinking as possible? He's got most of a pitcher of beer in front of him and so he slowly starts working on draining it sip by sip (pouring it into a glass first cause he's not a monster or a recently promoted weyrbrat). Once he's halfway done with the current glass, he slips a pack of dragon poker cards out and seeing that he doesn't have any poker buddies around at the moment a game of solitaire forms.

What ho! A rogue, visiting goldrider appears. Ione is sans knot as she saunters her way through the door of the cantina, but that flaming hair is hard to miss, even without a fancy knot to mark her for what she is. She stands near the doorway, hands on her hips as she surveys the gathered crowdin this fine establishment, brows drawing together and lips turning down in a frown when she doesn't see whoever it is that she's searching for. "Excuse me," she addresses F'mond, choosing the man sitting alone over those with company, "someone said they saw Diem heading this way. Have you seen her?" It's only polite that she says hello, after all.

What luck has F'mond crossing paths with all those fancy people today? Travith might have noticed the visiting gold's arrival, but he's a dragon of few words and didn't really pass the message on and so… bronzer rider just keeps drinking and playing his cards. As Ione comes over her looks up and over towards the back office. "Well, I think she is in with Topiltzin but his mother may or may not also be in there." He can neither confirm or deny this rumor but she can proceed at her own risk.

As soon as F'mond reveals that Diem is in a meeting, Ione is already waving away the thought of interruption, even before she realizes the potential dangers of doing so. "Oh no, I just wanted to give her a proper greeting, but I'll just have to rely on Niatskivhiath for that." She eyes his pitcher first, and then his cards, her expression contemplative. "I suppose I could wait here and see if she comes out any time soon…" And with that, Ione invites herself to sit at F'mond's table, flagging down the bartender and gesturing for a drink before slipping into the seat across from him.

It's a slow burning ember of memory that finally flashes into recognition. "Ohhh, Ooooohhhhh." That name is one that's hard to mistaken. "Evening, ma'am. I'm F'mond. Travith's. And she doesn't seem like one to keep one of Ista's waiting too long, if she knew you were coming to give a greeting." He shrugs. But what does he know about schedules. The drink ordering and self invitation to his table is watched, but he doesn't object. In fact, he even consolidates his card game down a bit.

"Ione, please." She just barely bites her tongue on pointing out the fact that she's likely half F'mond's age, but there's a twitch of her lips as though she's about to say more before she lapses into silence. As her drink arrives, Ione takes a dainty sip, faintly nodding her approval before setting the glass aside again. "Well, it's a bit of a surprise trip, so I don't really expect her to fit me into her schedule if she's busy. But you know, diplomacy and all." Another wave of her hand to encompass all that diplomacy might mean. "But I'm on the toddler schedule, so I can't linger too long."

F'mond gives a nod as Ione gives her name and he'll promptly forget that request and continue calling with ma'am. It could be worse though. He could go with miss since she is so much younger, but sticks with ma'am. As for the scheduling of the trip he gives an "Ahhh." And a shadow of a grimace at the thought of diplomacy. "There's always that." He gives a wave with one of those cards, a seven a sheaves apparently before adding it to the little pyramid. Solitaire game has turned into a hold of cards. Only one layer at the moment. "Toddler schedule?" There's an eyebrow raised in question as he tries to slowly remove his hands without collapsing the lean to.

Ione eyes that growing pyramid with a hint of concern, as she's not generally great around delicate things, but as long as she keeps her hands to this side of the table they should be fine. "You know, the little ones?" She leans to the side to hold her hand about toddler height off of the floor to better illustrate. "He won't fall asleep with the nannies, so I've got to get him home at a reasonable hour." She goes for another drink, ever so carefully setting the glass back down when she's finished so as not to shake the table at all.

Hopefully it's not one of those rickety tables. F'mond didn't check the structural stability before starting his construction project. There is a reason he wasn't a smith or miner before being Searched. There's an eyebrow raise as Ione demonstrates just what a toddler is. "I'm familiar, just didn't think they really kept much time. They just eat and sleep whenever, right?" Before he starts to add the next addition to his hold, he'll take a big swig of his drink, also oh so carefully.

There are all kinds of ways for a tower of cards to go tumbling, and very few ways for it to stand. The chances of F'mond's carefully crafted pyramid hitting the deck are high, but Ione is at least atempting not to be the one who causes its ultimate destruction. "He tends to get tired around the same time every night, just like anyone else. And if I don't get him to bed around that time, he's a nightmare for the nannies the next day, and then I become the goldrider with the horrible, bratty child who doesn't care enough about the sanity of the nannies to get her son to bed on time." She says it with more dramatic flair than the situation likely merits, just catching herself before she goes to make a sweeping gesture with her arm. Not today!

"Huh," F'mond contemplates that while he slowly begins adding the second level, heedless to Ione's innate destructive properties. At least there's no fire around. YET. "Didn't know that was a thing." Maybe due to Igen's most recent goldriders lacking bratty children or maybe because he just doesn't hang around with gossiping nannies. "He'll outgrow it." Hopefully.

"If something is possible, someone will be outraged by it trust me," Ione declares, with the authority of one who has been on the receiving end of outrage far too many times for someone still so young. "I'm sure he'll outgrow it, that's what children tend to do. I'd be worried if he didn't." But that's the point where tough love comes into play. She watches that second level begin to grow with that same wary curiosity, wanting to help, but also very aware of her own skills in the realm of delicate balance. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Don't I know it," F'mond will heartily agree to that. The herder folk he came from might be some of the worst at being offended at the tiniest thing. Especially his mother. And then some nods as Ione continues about children growing. As for his building, he can continue to do that and talk even if he does end up talking slower and quieter than he normally would lest it upset the cards. "Had a lot of time to kill back in the ground weyrs about a turn ago. Gotta do something with it." And so, card-holds.

So, so carefully, Ione crosses her arms on the table and gently slides them forward so she can rest her chin on them, to get a better angle on the developing tower. A smile threatens upon her lips, although she tries her best to fight it back - no one needs to be this excited over not yet knocking over a silly card construction. "And this… kept you occupied? Like, it's impressive, don't get me wrong, but it seems like it would have a limited entertainment value."

The sevens of practice come in handy as F'mond's steady hands add the next piece and then the next. Level two, complete! Now on to level three. There's a nod for her question. "It wasn't only this but well, the wing injury was bad. For a while it looked like we might never get out of the ground weyrs. A man's gotta have a variety of hobbies to kill the time. This was one of them. Tried whittling too, but got more uses for a deck of cards these days than a half carved chunk of wood."

Ione nods in sympathy, even if she can't entirely relate. Sure, she has more threadfall injuries than the average goldrider due to her struggles with flamethrowers, but she's still well-protected in the queen's wing. "I'm glad to see you finally did get out. And both of you are well now, I assume?" The mention of whittling causes her to wince, as just the thought of attempting to hack away at a piece of wood with a knife in one's hand brings visions of bloody healer visits. "You could have taken up an instrument. That seems much less precarious than all of this." She flicks her hand again, and… there it is. Fingertips make contact with those cards, and Ione swears loudly as she sends the thing tumbling.

"If you think me and music is less precarious, then you've never heard me sing. Not even the bovines would tolerate it," And no, F'mond will not be giving any demonstrations. He does successfully get the third layer on the house of cards just as Ione's hands are going towards it. He reaches out to try and… too late. "Wellll… guess that's a good as time as any to put up the cards and find the latrine. Make sure nobody spits in my drink or anything, would ya?" Regardless of the answer, F'mond's off to find the little boy's room or more likely, just the back alley.

"I'm sorry!" Ione calls pathetically after him, finally breaking her stare from the destruction she wrought. But the good news for F'mond is that Ione is going to guard that drink with her life, because she at least owes him that much for ruining all his hard work.