Fort Weyr - Shenanigan's Lounge

The natural walls of this cavern haven been completely covered and replaced by straight and sometimes curving walls of brickwork. There's method to the madness of covering stone with stone. It's as simple as the electric buzz in the room. New grade electric lights dot the fancy brick worked walls, with wires cleverly hidden behind, allowing more focus to be centered on the rest of the room rather than the numerous strings of wire needed to operate the lighting. Each bulb roosts in a bronzed metal flowering fixture, giving the room a rich atmosphere. Still, the walls are not the only place which has stone on stone appeal. The floor has been run smooth, the surface now slate rock, creating an imperial cast.
Beyond the actual foundations of the lounge, the luxury continues. High backed wooden chairs with padded white seats have been stationed all around the room. Between the individual chairs are benches fashioned out of the same rich wood with pillows made to flatter the cushions. There are low lying coffee tables or end tables near the individual chairs, while there's larger dinning room sized tables with chairs to match scattered as well, giving much variety to those who find themselves in the room. Decorative hangings and framed artwork has been neatly hung around the room, but to offset the meticulous method of the room, there's some pieces that give a sporty feeling to the room - such as a fishing rod or a snow shoe.
Of course, the final appeal of the room comes in the form of it's purpose; athletic competition. There are several games of darts lining the walls, various decks of dragon poker cards available, a large velvet lined pool table centered to one side of the lounge, a mat area surrounded by ropes, and an area that keeps track of all the runner races around the world via radio signal, giving constant updates on the status of the runners. Lastly, there's a bar here, small and built with brick as well. There's usually a bartender on duty willing to mix drinks during the evening hours.

Late afternoon in Fort Weyr brings clear skies, but a sharp cold wind. But that does little to dampen the mood of celebration slowly spreading over the Weyr as the organization for the late night festivities to usher in a new Turn are well underway. The only ripple of disturbance to this festive atmosphere is the return of the riders that left mysteriously in the pre-dawn hours. Their mood is much more somber and grim, which has some of the weyrfolk nearby giving curious glances and low mutterings. But as the returning group disperses, the mood turns back to celebratory and the brief disturbance clears as everyone goes about their respective duties. Velokraeth lands on his ledge, eyes whirling calmly though the pale bronze has a concerned look to him as he watches his rider dismount and tend to the straps. Th'ero is subdued, despite the festive air and once the straps are safely stowed away, the Weyrleader turns on his heels and strides down the stairs. Where he's going isn't entirely certain at first, though he does pass on his intentions through Velokraeth to Varmiroth at least. His path eventually takes him to Shenanigan's, where some of the other wingriders and members of the investigation have escaped to for brief respite. The Weyrleader slips inside and then to his usual spot farthest to the back and in the most private of corners that an open lounge can offer.

Kimmila isn't far behind the Weyrleader, leaving her blue on Velokraeth's ledge to take a well deserved nap. The bluerider's hair is a bit mussed from her riding helmet, the hair from her braid starting to sneak free in their sneaky sort of way. With a fresh sweater on (this one green), she has a familiar jacket draped over her arm as she walks towards the bar and orders two tall mugs of ale before making her way to Th'ero's table and holding out his riding jacket. "Ezra's coat arrived," she says by way of explanation as she offers him his own.

Jaye had retreated to the lounge after returning to the weyr and getting her shadowbeast brown settled on sentry duty in the bowl, the brown's usuala post when he's not watching from his ledge above the weyr. The brownrider hadn't even changed her clothes upon arriving on her ledge and finding no Istan brown..nor Istan brownrider in their weyr. She had meant to go enjoy the turnover celebrations, but she just couldn't really get into it. Her heart too heavy from previous events. And so she squares her shoulders, and takes refuge in the lounge, a place she hasn't been to in quite awhile. Normally she'd be at the bar looking for some rum or whiskey, but that little baby bump prevents her from doing so and she only orders a glass of juice, settling in to contemplate the darts game, but then she catches sight of the weyrleader and the bluerider, and settles for watching them for the moment, though she doesn't approach, she's not exactly the company sort, and certainly isn't the sort to invite herself to another person's table.

Th'ero hadn't even stopped inside his weyr to change and as he settles heavily in one of the high back chairs, he's still in most of his flight gear though his helmet remains with his straps. As Kimmila approaches the table, the Weyrleader has a hand raised and fingers rubbing at his temples. The movement stops though as he glances up to her and then down to the offered jacket. "That was fast." Th'ero murmurs as he reaches for his old jacket and draws it to his lap, gesturing for her to join him. His eyes seem to fixate on the jacket now, clear then that he's quite distracted and withdrawn. And it's for that reason he hasn't noticed Jaye yet, too lost in his own thoughts to really acknowledge much.

Kimmila slides into the chair beside Th'ero when he takes the coat, motioning to the barmaid who holds her order of two ales. Maybe it's happy hour. Both are placed before her, and she silently slides one in front of Th'ero. Green eyes flick around the room and she lifts a hand to wave to Jaye, bound forever to the other woman by the events they witnessed earlier in the day. "Just juice?" the bluerider calls over quietly. "I'll buy you an ale if you want," she adds.

Jaye does move over, then, at the wave of the bluerider. "Not 'llowed. Or I'd a'ready be on m'second shot." Cause, well, she's a alcoholic, yesh. Or something like that. Dark eyes flicker towards the quiet Th'ero, and the brownrider slides into a chair nearby. She doesn't interrupt his silence, though, it's not her place really and it's not like she can do anything to make it better as much as she'd like to. Juice is stared into, swirled around even a bit, before a sip is taken and the brownrider looks to Kimmila. "Who's Ezra?" Not that it's likely any of her business, but yeah, it's something at least.

It is happy hour. All across the Weyr but for various reasons and while Shenanigan's shows little in the way of decoration, the rest of Fort is no doubt undergoing some. Could be another reason why Th'ero chose to hide here of all places. His returned jacket is carefully set beside him on the opposite side that Kimmila chooses. Blinking at the ale is slid his way, the Weyrleader lifts his head then and a hand comes to grip the mug tightly. Side-glancing to Kimmila, he manages a brief small smile. "Thanks." And then it falters and he hides it by taking a long pull from the drink. When he sets it down again, the bluerider's quietly spoken questions snare his attention and he turns his head a little as his eyes settle on Jaye. When the brownrider joins them, there is no welcoming smile but he does nod his head. At her question, he starts a little and a few more moments of silence stretch out and awkwardly so. "Ezra is a child fostered here." Th'ero says in a low voice, pausing to glance towards Kimmila. Perhaps she'll elaborate?

Kimmila frowns a bit, "Not allowed? Is that a new Thunderbird Wing rule or something?" At the question of Ezra, all Kimmila does is turn to look at Th'ero. This is all yours, man. She's not going to talk about it if he isn't going to. She just sips her ale.

And Jaye isn't going to pry, again, it's not her place. "Healers'd be after me slicker'n snot iff'n they heard tell I'd put an'more alc'hol inta m'lil one's blood." One hand runs over her stomach broefly. "That an' Kal'd be upset too." Not much of an explanation, but it's something, right? Such wonderful silences, then, as she leans back in her seat to watch the other two riders. And then dark eyes seek out something else, anything else, like looking over the decorations in the lounge.

Th'ero gives Kimmila a narrowed look when she withholds any help in the matter and perhaps a little for her remark on Thunderbird Wing. Most likely the first and the Weyrleader turns back to his own drink, now already close to half way through the first mug. Luckily he's finished swallowing when Jaye's words sink in. "Your pregnant." He says softly and not with much tact, though that could be forgiven perhaps given his current mental and emotional state. And a heartbeat later, he at least tries to be a little more polite about it. "Congratulations." There is very little in the way of decorations, if any, in the lounge to stare at. Plenty of people though and the usual furniture and Th'ero isn't glancing at any of it for once, his attention now divided between Jaye and Kimmila both.

Kimmila's green eyes drop to the brownrider's belly, and the bluerider then shifts uncomfortably in her chair and leaaaans back. Real subtly getting away from the pregnant woman, it seems. /Real/ subtle. Not. It's obvious. And awkward. Especially when she tries to hide a grimace behind her ale mug. "Congrats," she mutters. She does everything but shudder, really.

Jaye shifts as the pregnancy is pointed at. "Aye, pregnant." But then the bluerider is leaning away from her, and the brownrider shifts. She starts to say something, but quickly she cuts that thought off. Yes, wonderful awkward silences and stuff, awesome! Clasping her hands around her glass she sighs, dark eyes focussing on one of the dart players over yonder. She's so not a people person, apparently. And the silence will continue, she has no quickwitted comebacks or anything, bummer.

As Kimmila begins to not so subtly move away, Th'ero moves his own hand to gently rest it on the bluerider's leg. The gesture is meant to look calming and reassuring, but it's likely more then just that. He gives her a quick sidelong look too and while perhaps not entirely polite, leans in to whisper something to her. Turning back to Jaye then, Th'ero leans back into his seat and as the alcohol begins to do its work, he mellows enough for the smallest of smiles for the brownrider. "You and your partner," And he's assuming here, as he's completely unaware of Jaye's current romantic life. "Must be excited." He ventures to say, perhaps to break the awkward silence but perhaps creating even more. The Weyrleader blinks suddenly and then frowns, head tilting to the side. "How much longer before you're barred from Betweening?" is his next question and… does he sound concerned? As he waits for the answer, he finishes the rest of his ale while his other hand seems to pin Kimmila gently to her seat.

Th'ero whispers: "Try to be nice? After all she's seen tonight, if her sharing this news brings some happiness then we shouldn't deny her that." to Kimmila.

Jaye shrugs a little, "'twasn't planned, but we're going t'deal with it t'th'best of our abil'ty." She's still, as always, careful to hide any emotion of either excitement or dread. "We will be fine t'between within' th'next se'enday or so." This is said quickly, maybe hoping to get onto something else before the older riders put two and two together. "M'weyrmate is th'father. K'drozen from Ista." At least there is a little bit of emotion there, perhaps just the briefest hint of love as she mentions his name.

Th'ero must be used to the glaring, because the Weyrleader hardly reacts when Kimmila directs one his way. When the bluerider plays nice, albeit forced, he relaxes a little and his hand slips from her leg and back to his lap. Lifting his mug only to find it empty, he then signals the barmaid for another. "They rarely are planned." Th'ero murmurs once his order is made and his attention turns back to Jaye. He doesn't count back; it seems, but rather forwards when the brownrider explains further. "Hmm. So you'll be on straight flight soon." Seems the Weyrleader's mind is stuck in the present and the future, not the past. She's given a curious look as well, when a name is given and his Weyr. "Ahh, well then. Good luck to the two of you." Th'ero murmurs and turns his head subtly to give Kimmila a not so subtle and pointed look. His drink arrives then and it's barely on the table's surface for a handful of seconds before the bronzerider begins to work away at it.

Kimmila counts back. Because she's a brat. "Wait," she says with a frown, eying the brownrider, "wouldn't that make it that you got pregnant during Weyrlinghood?" Turning her head, she meets Th'ero's pointed look and sits up a bit straighter, pulling back from that look. What? What does that mean?! She just eyes him right back.

Jaye still keeps her shoulders squared as she drink the last of her juice. "We are on straight flight now, we will be cleared for between soon." at least for a few months anyway. But then Kimmila's gears are grinding and the brownrider tries hard not to shift further away from the bluerider. "Apparently so, aye." She doesn't deny it, she's just cautiously cool about it. "S'rprising, really, that the babe s'rvived th'months b'fore grad'ation when I was 'tweenin' back an' forth an' indulgin' in th'Istan rum. But s'rvive it did, which means p'rhaps 'tis jus' meant t'be." She'll take whatever can be doled out to her for being a pregnant weyrling, take it standing tall and proud too, even if she's dreading it on the inside.

Th'ero looks confused and perhaps, very subtly hurt when Kimmila pulls back from him, then eyes him back. What? Then her words sink in and he turns his attention back to Jaye sharply. He gives her a long, searching look; mouth drawn down to a thin line as the mood suddenly turns from awkward to serious and… still awkward. "Perhaps." He replies slowly, pausing again to indulge in more ale before he continues on, curt and a little blunt in his questioning now of the brownrider. "You had had the restrictions lifted though, before ah… indulging?" Awkward! But it's having an effect, other then making everyone uncomfortable. It is getting their minds off the grim task they undertook in the early morning hours. At least, it seems, Th'ero's mood is shifting to something closer to normal.

Kimmila looks just as confused as Th'ero, since clearly these two haven't yet mastered each others' facial cues, before her green eyes flick back to Jaye, a brow lifted and quite interested in the outcome of this little conversation. Distraction? Oh yes.

Not exactly cleared, but close enough not to get yelled at by the weyrlingmasters. "'twas an acc'dent, we was visitin' Kal at ista when Rysith went up. Maehwa caught 'er an' after I was, ah…r'leased from 'is dragonlust. I may 'ave got a bit drunk an' went ta see K'drozen." And, well, you know…things happen and bam she's pregnant without knowing it before even officially recieving the mating flight lecture, which she purposely leaves out of the equation. But the brownrider's cool outer core is starting to give way as she shifts in her seat. Time to flee, yesindeedy. "I, ah, I've t'go, Maehwazeyeth is callin'." Probably not, but she's fleeing anyway.

Clearly there are some mixed signals between Kimmila and Th'ero, but the Weyrleader is now focusing entirely on Jaye as she elaborates further. And her answer doesn't seem to exactly thrill the bronzerider either. With an exasperated sigh, he makes a dismissive gesture. "What's done is done and there's no sense punishing you now. You're just… very lucky Jaye, in a sense. So much could have gone wrong." And didn't (or did), it seems. Then the brownrider is making her getaway and Th'ero is left only shaking his head. So much for their distraction? As his previous dark mood and thoughts threaten to crowd in on him again, the Weyrleader sips more of his ale and then shifts a little in his chair to face Kimmila. With Jaye now fled, he's not as reserved with his words though he's careful to keep his voice low. "So what have I done for such a reaction?" he asks gently.

Kimmila sips her ale while Jaye flees and Th'ero does his Weyrleader thing, but then she's glancing back at him with another frown. "What was that look for?" she asks, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "I'm not pregnant," she adds, JUST IN CASE, taking a deeeeeep sip of her ale.

It's Th'ero's turn to lean back this time, staring a little dumbfounded at Kimmila before settling into a confused look to add to his awkwardness. Disappointment is somewhere there too, but buried well and deep. "I never said you were or meant to imply?" he says slowly, stressing each word a little to drive the point. Despite having drunk almost two mugs of ale at this point, the Weyrleader is still able to put the pieces together enough to snort then. "I was reflecting more on how Jaye mentioned her partner was Istan." Th'ero murmurs, breaking his gaze on her now to look downwards as he drains the last of his second round of ale.

Kimmila continues to eye him, and then she blinks. "Oh. So you weren't, like…Ah." She sips her ale again and sets it down with a thunk. "I thought that was a 'I want you to get pregnant' look." Pretty specific look! Her eyes dart sidelong to him once more. "What's that got to do with me?" she asks with a little frown.

Th'ero shakes his head and while the smile (and the first, perhaps, of the entire day!) on his lips is bemused, it seems a little lacking. The amusement never quite reaches his eyes, but it's a start. "No." Then his expression drops and he sits a little straighter. Oh. "No. Shards, no." he says gruffly, then flinches a little. Awkwardly, he sets his mug down to the table, eyes lowered to his fingers as they gently nudge it from side to side. "That… that we'll have to consider, perhaps, later." If ever, his tone seems to imply. Th'ero looks up at her then, surprised by Kimmila's defensiveness. He tenses a little in response, but the ale hampers his temper a little. "More like us." He corrects, with a smirk. "If they can manage a cross weyr relationship, I thought perhaps it's not so bad that we're of the same situation." He explains, followed with another pointed look. Satisfied?

No. Kimmila continues to eye him. "I know you want kids," she says, tongue licking her lips before she bites a bit on the bottom one. But then she's looking a bit offended. "You thought our relationship was bad? Because I'm in Western?" Here's a shovel, Th'ero. Keep digging.

Oh, he's digging a hole all right. A very big and deep one, it seems. "And you'll fault me for that?" Th'ero remarks and rather bitterly as he gives her a long and lingering look and it could be that that also stung him a little. When she looks offended though, the Weyrleader backs down and tries to claw his way out of this situation. "Kimmila, you know that isn't what I meant." He says, sounding tired and perhaps a little frustrated then. Signalling for another round, he'll fall into an almost sullen silence as he waits on his third drink, speaking up again only once the barmaid is well out of earshot. "I never, ever considered what we have as bad. You know my worries on the whole Weyr issue. Is it wrong that I took some comfort that others have similar relationships?" Th'ero asks quietly as he once again focuses more on his drink then her.

Kimmila squirms a little bit, shifting in her chair and downing the rest of her ale, signaling for another one. "No, I…of course not," she mutters. "I just don't know what we're going to /do/ about it. Surprised I'm not already, actually," she adds with a little frown. Then she glances at him from the corner of her eyes. "Your worries are only because you're the Weyrleader. They're not in the same situation." Unless she misunderstands his issue.

Th'ero lifts his gaze from his drink and watches in silence as she squirms and shifts in her chair. He takes a long, steadying breath then and with a free hand, scrubs at his face, masking the heavy frown that now settles onto his features. He's gone from one grim situation to one far more touchy and personal, all in one night. Not quite the distraction he was bargaining for either. "We don't have to cross that bridge." Th'ero says quietly and a touch cryptically, before smirking and looking away once more. Clearly, he shares the same thoughts. "Maybe I can't?" he remarks dryly, bluntly and in a very low tone, lifting his mug of ale up then and masking his expression. Not exactly public conversation here, but the Weyrleader looks beyond the point of caring. That and the lounge has begun to empty out, with most wandering off to enjoy Turnover as the day grows later. Th'ero snorts then, shaking his head. "They are, if you set aside the fact I'm Weyrleader." He states again and rather stubbornly.

Kimmila starts in on her new ale, apparently wanting to get drunk, tonight. "It'd be sad if you couldn't," she says with a frown. "I want you to have kids, even if…you know. They're flight kids or whatever." She squirms again. "Maybe…it'll happen by accident," she adds, muttering lowly. Awkward, indeed. "For us, I mean. I…" She exhales sharply, gulping at her ale. Abandoning that line of thought, she looks over at him again. "What are your worries, then?"

Th'ero gives Kimmila a sidelong glance then, not having quite expected the response she gives him, though he grimaces at the mention of flights. He frowns then, mulling over his thoughts before he carefully replies. "It's not that much of a pressing matter, Kimmila. I'm young. There is plenty of time for that path to be considered… or not." He says slowly, shifting a little from the awkwardness that builds between them. Again, he tries to break it by settling his hand gently on her leg once more. "My worries are many." Th'ero begins as he turns to face her again now, done playing the hiding game, though he doesn't ease his hold on the ale. Seems his goal is to drink himself into a drunken stupor as well. If anyone asks, he can blame it on a good Turnover celebration. "And you know where most of them lay."

Yay, getting drunk! Kimmila gulps down the rest of that ale and signals for another one (her third) when his hand comes to rest on her thigh. Looking down at his hand, she then lifts her gaze to his face. But she does put her hand on top of his. She'll happily abandon the talk of pregnancies and babies, the alcohol easing her expression a bit. "Where? I'm not going to make you choose between me and Fort. Nor would I put Fort in danger." Her eyes narrow a bit.

Th'ero looks openly reassured when her hand rests over his and maybe even shuffles himself over a little closer to her side. That could also be the ale talking. Tilting his head down, he frowns again as Kimmila's words only confuse him. Tired emotionally, mentally and physically from the morning's investigation and well on his way to an alcoholic buzz, his mind is not quite functioning as well as it should. "I never said I had to." He replies, shaking his head. "Nor do I think you'd put Fort in danger and I don't feel like I have to choose. I have no worries where our personal relationship rests. Not anymore, at least." Th'ero tries his best to explain, though it may only end up puzzling the two of them all the more.

Kimmila blinks at him, sipping this next ale and already looking a bit tipsy. "You did? Have worries about our personal relationship?" She frowns. "So what do you worry about with me being in Western, then?" Yes, she's confused, and the ale isn't helping.

And what would fix this situation? Why, more ale of course. And Th'ero is making quick work of his latest mug, now his third … or is it fourth? Doesn't seem to matter to the Weyrleader and the moment it's empty again, he signals for another. "I'm only human, Kimmila," he tells her with a smirk. "I worry over everything. And at a time, yes, I did. Not anymore." As if to emphasize this, he shuffles closer to her side and even goes so far to slip an arm around behind her. Now he really must be buzzed, to drop his Weyrleader facade in public enough show affection. "At a time," Th'ero stresses then, lowering his head down so he can whisper if need be, though he speaks low regardless. "I worried about time and duty. I don't any longer. And you know I worried over having you by my side for official business and those have also gone and passed. I worry only for the outlook of others." He snorts then, looking up to glance to the now almost deserted lounge. It's dinnertime and most folk are now at the Turnover feasts. "Though I'm working on that."

Kimmila turns her head to watch his arm go around her, but she doesn't shy away - that's a plus, right? She sips her ale and then orders another one, just to have it READY and waiting when she's ready. "You shouldn't worry what anyone else thinks," she says with a firm nod. "Fuck everyone." Then she laughs, a crooked grin on her lips as she turns to look at him. "Not literally." Reaching up, she playfully gives one of his curls a little tug. "You're all for me." Then there's a frown, sudden and deep. "Right?"

That she doesn't shy from him is a plus and one Th'ero is probably thankful for. With his arm around her secured, he subtly pulls her closer to his side until there is no undoubted questions to anyone looking their way that they are very much in each others personal space. "I know. As I said, I'm working on it. Piece by piece." The barmaid returns then with their orders and the Weyrleader tilts his head a bit, murmuring another order that has her blinking a little, but shuffling off to do it all the same. When she returns, she's carrying a pitcher of ale and she sets it down, bobbing her head a little before moving off to tend to the other few patrons. Th'ero snorts and then chuckles dryly to Kimmila's little quip, turning his head to glance down at her, only to pull back slightly when she playfully tugs at his hair. "What?" he says while chuckling. The ale must really be getting to him now. But that quickly sobers when she frowns at him and Th'ero turns serious, despite the slight flush to his skin. "Of course I am." He tells her honestly, though his eyes narrow now and his look turns faintly suspicious. "Why the sudden need to question it?"

Kimmila beams when the barmaid brings a pitcher, and she gives Th'ero a glowing 'you're so SMART' look. Leaning happily against his shoulder in a way she rarely does when she's sober, she shrugs. "Just checkin'," she says, tilting her head up to grin at him. "I'm happy you're all for me," she says, pronouncing her words slowly since they're super important.

Th'ero would have laughed when Kimmila gives him that glowing look and almost does, but even in his muddled state he vaguely has some guilt over being so cheery considering what they have just done. But he chuckles heartily at least and when she leans against his shoulder, he gives her a gentle squeeze. He's not the only one being a little more affectionate then normal. "I'm glad." Th'ero tells her, smiling fondly in response to her grinning remark. And when words fail, he reaches with his free hand to his ale and promptly raises it to his lips to drain the rest of the ale within.

Kimmila picks up her mug too, gulping it down like they were having some sort of contest. Maybe it's only in her mind. "I think it'd be fun to climb the bowl wall," she remarks absently. "The outside one. I think that'd be fun. It's slope-y, and there's lots of hand holds and shit. I think we could do it." She tilts her head to look at him and grins. "You have pretty eyes."

Maybe there really is a contest going on. It is a Turnover celebration, isn't it? Well, outside and in the weyr proper it is. In Shenanigan's? Not so much. Th'ero is definitely getting well into his cups tonight though, but his reasoning may be actually depressing and the effort really only temporary. "Hmm?" The Weyrleader slowly lets his arm slip away from her as he turns to pour himself more ale and somehow manages to do it without making a horrid mess of everything. Truthfully, Th'ero doesn't appear too drunk yet, but he's sitting and hasn't stood to his feet yet. Refilled mug in hand, he fixes Kimmila with a long, searching look and then firmly shakes his head. "I don't think so." He murmurs before taking a long sip. "Remember what happened when we went flying?" The Weyrleader muses then with a low chuckle, before turning to point a finger at her and then playfully nudge her shoulder. "And you… are on your way to being drunk."

Kimmila blinks green eyes at him blankly. "What? When we went flying which time? There've been lots of times." Sipping this ale now, she flags over the barmaid. "I want food." "What kind of food?" "I dunno. Good stuff. Um. Bacon." The barmaid blinks at her, and then looks at Th'ero. "Just…bacon?" "And biscuits," Kimm adds. "Bacon and biscuits and eggs." "So…breakfast." "Yeah, breakfast." So the barmaid goes off, baffled once more, and Kimmila beams. Then she snorts. "I am not," she argues, lifting her hand in front of her face, holding it flat with the palm facing the floor. "See? I'm not shaking." Since…that's what happens when you get drunk, apparently.

Th'ero sighs a little, "The time I gave you the knives, Kimmila." He explains and in obvious amusement rather then annoyance. When she flags the barmaid down, the Weyrleader blinks, curious and then equally as baffled by the bluerider's request. "Hungry, are we? We could have moved to the feasts if you were." He says once the request is made and the poor barmaid is left to fill it. But by his tone, Th'ero wants nothing to do with the large crowds. He's still making a public appearance, even if it's just hidden away in the lounge. As Kimmila holds out her hand, he snorts then and leans back in his seat until he's comfortably wedged into the corner and against the wall. While it takes him a little from the bluerider's side, it gives him a clear view of her and allows him to relax, posture be damned. "Uh huh. Try standing up." Th'ero murmurs in a challenging tone.

Kimmila shrugs, "I'd rather be in here where it's quiet," she admits, giving him a knowing look. Then she frowns. "Oh yeah, the knives." Her hand drops to the blue and silver hilt at her waist, and then she looks back at him again, watching him lean. Never one to turn down a challenge, the bluerider slowly pushes herself to her feet. She's not stupid enough to bound up like she hasn't been drinking, so she takes it slowly. Holding onto the table for a moment, she then lets go and stands solidly, feet a bit apart. "I could drink you under the table," she says, keeping her stance steady, even if it's by sheer force of will. And she doesn't stay standing long. "I just get chatty when I drink," she says with a shrug, glancing at him.

Th'ero's eyes drop to follow the movement of her hand to the hilt at her waist and a small smile creeps onto his features before vanishing into a blank and neutral look, though it's obvious he's trying so hard not to show his amusement. When Kimmila succeeds at his little challenge, he only looks mildly disappointed but her comment has him focusing on her. "I'm sure you could." He muses, before letting himself smile widely for once. And is that a… mischievous look to his eyes? "And was that a challenge?" The Weyrleader holds Kimmila in his questioning gaze. "As do I. I told you once I'm a fairly relaxed drunk." Unless someone pisses him off, which is unlikely.

Kimmila laughs, "I…just want to get smashed," she says with a crooked grin, leaning against him after she's sit down, turning her body so her back rests against his shoulder and she too has a good view of the room. "Wasn't really a challenge though. Not this time." She picks up her mug again and sips it, nose wrinkling slightly. "Today sucked. I want to get drunk.

"Then by all means, indulge." Th'ero muses with a hint of sarcasm to his tone, but all in good fun. He shifts so that as Kimmila settles back against him, the bluerider will at least be reasonably comfortable and so will he. And he wastes no time in slipping an arm around her side if he can. "Didn't even realize we were competing." The Weyrleader teases gently, before her next remark has him blinking and then frowning a little despite the amount of alcohol consumed. "It was a grim, dark start to the day." Th'ero agrees, mouth drawing downwards as his mood shifts rapidly and guilt settles in.

Kimmila shifts her shoulders to get comfortable, and grins. "Aren't we always competing?" she teases him lightly. "It was," she agrees, lifting her mug in a silent toast and taking a sip before she sets it down and turns her body to try and kiss him. Yup, right there in front of everyone.

"I suppose we are," Th'ero agrees slowly and with a low chuckle as she settles comfortably against him. With his mug back in his free hand, he lifts it up to meet Kimmila's in the silent toast to Stonehaven and the dead and then the Weyrleader knocks it back and downs half of it in one shot. Sipping is clearly not on his agenda. He doesn't even have time to set it down on the tabletop when the bluerider turns to kiss him. Too shocked for a heartbeat at first to react, Th'ero just tosses his reservations aside and kisses back and perhaps heatedly enough to have a few people darting a look their way and muttering about it. And for once, he won't care. Let them gossip! It's happier then other rumors circulating. Reluctantly, Th'ero pulls away, but then in a low and soft-spoken voice, says, "Quiet as it is here, it won't last when the main celebrations wind down and those seeking more drift this way." In other words, their "privacy" will likely be crashed for the night. Under normal circumstances, Th'ero wouldn't mind. But the Weyrleader is in no mood to be forcefully cheery. "We can go to my weyr?" he suggests, before adding, "And the ale and your food as well." Cause those are obviously important.

Kimmila leans into the kiss and the watchers be damned, and when Th'ero pulls away the bluerider wears a frown that's /almost/ a pout. But it isn't. She doesn't pout. "Yeah, I think so," she says, looking up as the barmaid brings over her plate of eggs, bacon and biscuits. "With the ale and the food," she says with a slow nod. "Best go now, before we get too drunk to navigate the stairs." She grins and even laughs a bit, more light-hearted than usual.

Th'ero says nothing on the near-pout that Kimmila gives him and instead focuses on the arrival of the food. Thankfully, not much was prepared and what was is easy enough to cover and carry, as the Weyrleader doubts his abilities to walk, let alone juggle things. "It's not the stairs I worry about. It's the crowds. Hardly any stairs to climb." But enough that if either of them fall, it's going to smart and their prides will no doubt go down with them, with half the Weyr milling about to witness. "Lead the way," Th'ero says with a gesture of his mug vaguely towards the exit. He'll only begin to move once the bluerider does, it seems.

Kimmila gets up slowly and picks up the food, making sure she's at least realtively steady on her feet. She laughs again and flashes him a crooked grin. "I feel /good/," she announces as she makes her way slowly toward the exit.

Th'ero is slow to move and even slower to get to his feet, taking his sweet time in gathering the mugs and the pitcher of ale. His recovered riding jacket is also snagged and slung over his arm. Using the table to balance himself for the most part, he's not swaying drunk yet, but he's not entirely steady on his feet. But once the Weyrleader gets into the motion of walking, he seems fine. If you can ignore the flush to his skin and the muddled look in his eyes. "I'm definitely sure." He mutters with a crooked smile as Kimmila leads them out to the exit. Unlike Shenanigan's, the rest of the weyr is teeming with life as everyone gears up for the Turnover celebrations. The mood is festive and upbeat but it makes for a slower trek across the bowls and most paths as people bustle to and fro even as the hour grows later. A few people pause to send greetings or well wishes, which Th'ero has enough sense to return normally. If he comes off too relaxed and easy going, most will just chalk it up to the holiday cheer. Oh if they only knew. The stairs leading up to his weyr take much of his concentration and wisely he sticks close to the inner edge so that if he does weave or tip, he can do so into solid rock and not wide-open air. Th'ero will be ever the gentleman too, slowing or stopping to be sure Kimmila follows. When they reach the weyr itself, he shoulders the door open and then over exaggerates the gesture for her to enter, almost loosing his grip on their drinks. Velokraeth is nowhere to be seen, ledge or wallow. It can be assumed the bronze has gone elsewhere, to watch and observe.

'The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967, 2000. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on PernWorld MUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.