Fort Weyr - Living Caverns
This cavern, having been created by bubbles in the volcanic flow of this extinct volcano, has a breathtaking ceiling — a vast dome that arches high above the heads of the weyrfolk that scurry around beneath it. A hollow echo can be heard from loud enough noises, and the chatterings of various firelizards are consequently multiplied into a chaotic babble. All in all, the living cavern is a loud place.
Tables are scattered around the room, apparently in no particular order. Over to one side near the kitchens, two medium sized serving tables are constantly spread with snacks, klah, and other goodies. The tables look worn, yet perfectly fitted to the atmosphere of the caverns. In the 'corners' of the cavern, smaller two and four place tables are set up for more private talks or just a less chaotic atmosphere in which to eat.

For those not in the know, it would appear that Fort was in the middle of a celebration — a very sombre one (at least for now) but a celebration none the less. There are no festive decorations, but there is plenty of food going around and even more drinks. Not many are having an appetite for food but the alcohol is certainly flowing. At times like these, Th'ero would prefer to be somewhere private but given the tragedy that happened, it's not wise for the Weyrleader to hide. So he sits at one of the less crowded tables, nursing his usual dark, poisonous ale and keeps a quiet eye on the people who mill about and an ear on the buzz of conversation. Somewhere there is laughter, but it doesn't last for too long.

Killian trumps into the living caverns after having spent most of the day in the stables. Snow is brushed off his shoulders and left on the floor to melt. His naturally arched brows are drawn low and knit together as he looks about. In the end, the beastcrafter heads directly for the food tables and grabs half his usual serving before turning on one heel. What initially starts as a course towards an empty corner table soon switches to one heading for Th'ero instead. "Uh…." The awkward teen glances to the Weyrleader and then to the ground. "Condolences…never met the guy but….reputation you know." His words are painfully awkward, but well meant nonetheless.

Th'ero has just taken another drag of his ale when Killian approaches, his eyes lifting to meet those of the awkward teen. There's a moment as he clears his throat and dips his head. "Thank you. He was a good Wingrider and was taking Weyrsecond well." Such a shame. But such is the life of a rider? With a low exhale, he attempts to ease some of the awkwardness by gesturing to the empty chairs. "You're welcome to sit, if you wish."

"No problem, and uh sure….thanks." Killian shoots a wistful glance to that corner table once more, but instead takes a seat. Parties he's good at, mourning parties not so much. Still, he'll put on a half-smile and pick up a roll from his plate. "Were you two close?" Cue a brief pause. "Wait, never mind, don't answer that…not that I think you'd cry while talking about it or anything. Just you know…" At this point the beastcrafter just takes a bite of his bread to stop himself from digging a deeper hole. "How's the ale?" Safe topic. Maybe.

Who's to say it won't turn into a party, once enough alcohol has circulated among the crowds? Th'ero's brows lift at Killian's reply but he chuckles dryly, smirking. Either the Weyrleader doesn't mind or he's already slightly into his cups. Could be both! "It's alright, you can't offend me." Well, not on this day anyways. So Killian will get an answer, "We weren't close in the sense that we knew each other well outside of duty. No'tak served in Phoenix for many Turns. If I remember right, he Impressed in one of Zuvaleyuth and Velokraeth's clutches." Beyond that? There's not much more he knows or if he does, he keeps quiet. It'd not be hard to find who did know the Weyrsecond though… that table has the most conversation, an occasional bought of laughter but also the most drinks. "This?" He lifts his mug and then laughs quietly. "The usual. It's the only ale I order. Most folks can't stomach it."

“Oh….good then.” Killian’s shoulders relax just the slightest and he tears off another piece of his bread roll. “I guess if the two of you worked together well enough speaks for his character…to some degree.” The small smirk now displayed on the beastcrafter’s face likely indicate that he’s testing the ‘can’t offend’ waters. There’s a casual glance back to the louder table before his eyes settle on the Weyrleader’s drink. “Because it tastes terrible and you’re torturing yourself, or because it’s too strong for the other folks? It’s an important difference.” He has yet to go and claim a drink of his own, but by the way the teen is eyeing that ale it probably won’t be long.

Th'ero catches that possible double meaning and snorts, "I won't lie. I'm not the easiest to be around on a regular basis." Hey, at least he's learned to poke fun at himself once in awhile? The ale is helping too. Speaking of which, he'll finish off the rest of his mug and then set it aside before signalling a drudge over. "Now, that depends on who you ask. I tell anyone that it's simply a strong drink… It's all the warning you need." Never mind it'll make most folks drunk by the second pint. "Unless you wish for something different, I can have two brought here." Dare Killian try it?

Killian laughs for a moment before shaking his head, “Just in case this conversation is used to throw me in Weyr jail sometime later…you said it not me.” His laughter dissolves into a smirk and fingers pause mid-air, halting newly speared vegetables from getting any closer to the beastcrafter’s mouth. “Oh no, I think I’ll try that. Go ahead and order two.” The food resumes its journey and soon disappears. It isn’t that the teen’s demeanor has changed, at least…not completely. His posture remains relaxed but his eyes glint with the excitement of a challenge. Ah, kids, gotta love their enthusiasm.

"Are you wanting or trying to go to the brig?" Th'ero drawls, giving Killian a close to amused look even though he attempts to keep his usual serious face. Want the Weyrleader to relax? Get him drunk — or, you know, catch him on a good day. "Two then," he confirms and just in time for the drudge to come by and collect the empty mugs and nod in understanding before shuffling away. "Just heed the name? It's called Black Damnation." For good reason. "I'm not responsible for the after effects." Killian's been warned! "Anything of note among the beasthold or stables?" Time to turn the conversation to something casual again.

“Course not…but I’m pretty sure it’s inevitable in my case.” Killian claims some more food from his plate and shovels it down quickly. There’s a distinct possibility that he’s inhaling the food, but an occasional chew here or there ensures a lack of choking. “Black Damnation…hah, we’ll see how bad it really is. There’s always hype in names!” Cue a peal of fearless laughter that he may or may not regret in a few hours. “Hmmm…got a new runner in, still needs some more training but could be a pretty promising racehorse. He’s pretty slick, nice build. Could probably have him ready in a few serenades.”

Abigail is making her way on into the Caverns, she's spent most of the day dealing with paperwork, talking to her riders and so forth. It has been a trying day after all. A soft breath escapes her while she offers a faint smile and nod now and then to a few people she wanders by. There is a moment and she pauses catching sight o Killian and Th'ero of all people and she blinks while liftin a hand to rb her her eyes before moving towards them. "He strives to be thrown in I think sir." Is offered with an amused tone. "Hopefully he is behaving himself?"

Th'ero smirks, "I guess I'll put in a note of forewarning to Captain Breshir to keep an eye out ofr you then…" Hopefully that was a joke and NOT a serious comment. Brows lift and now he laughs again, though quieter than most. Killian's laughter might have drawn attention though, but only for a moment. "There is no hype in this name, trust me. You need only ask a few who've tried it before." At the mention of the race runner, Th'ero actually seems genuinely interested and curious. "The spring races won't be far off. Do you think you'll try him then?" Sensing someone approaching, he looks up and his smile is faint but welcoming for the familiar face. "Abigail! And does he? So far, he's given me no reason to drag him to a cell. Do you have time to sit?" he ventures to ask, gesturing again to another empty seat.

"Abs! Do I /ever/ behave myself? And I don't particularly strive for it…opportunities for it just fall in my lap and I can't help myself." Killian grins broadly at his cousin before letting his gaze slide over towards Th'ero. For a second, a very brief second, the teen looks a bit wary. Of course, that expression disappears moments later. "Can you also put a request in for good jail food? You know, since you're going to drop him a note and everything!" And as for the drink. "We'll see about that. /I/ haven't tried it after all! But as for the runner…yeah, I'm thinking of making his official debut in spring. Course we'll have the less formal things to keep testing him out. He's young, but I have a feeling he can hold his own on the track."

Abigail just eyes Killian a few moments, she ponders what to say before she glances back to Th'ero and smirks a touch. "Honestly he is not that bad… He does have his good moments." She says with an amused tone before nodding. "Aye I can, thank ye." this said while she settles upon the free seat. "Give him a bit longer Th'ero, he may make ye change yer min." She's joking, right? She lets her arms fold upon th tble while she peers at Killian with the comment about the food for the jail. "No comment…" As for the rest she listens on. "Runners aye?"

"No promises about the food," Th'ero drawls in as dry a tone as he can manage. Just then the drudge returns with the two drinks and the Weyrleader thanks him, taking one for himself and setting the other within Killian's reach. "Best of luck to you," he murmurs with a smirk before taking a swig of his drink. Doesn't even so much as grimace, but for those new to it, the drink will be strong. Very strong. It starts smooth, with hints of this and that but it's the kick at the end that turns most people off and the more herbal aftertaste. It's certainly black in color and the foam even looks reddish. Evil, evil ale. "Does this runner have a name?" he inquires, before glancing over to Abigail. "Don't we all?" Not everyone can be perfect. There's a chuckle for Abigail's teasing of Killian and if the Weyrleader is aware of any familial ties (he isn't), he doesn't comment. A call from across the caverns has Th'ero lifting his head. Someone has summoned him and with a weary sigh, he'll give the two an apologetic look. "Sorry. Try and enjoy the rest of the evening…" No rest for the Weyrleader, but at least he can take his drink with him?

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