Tiki Dance

Half Moon Bay Weyr - Tiki Lounge
As one walks onto the wood panelled flooring of the patio, they are greeted with the scent of burning oil, the likely source the various torches burning along the perimeter of the flooring. The flooring is littered with tables shaded with umbrellas, matching chairs tucked beneath when not in use. The inside of the Tiki Lounge seems far bigger inside than outside, even when full of relaxing weyrfolk and travelers. Towards the front, in the western corner, is a small stage, generally occupied by harpers. Several tables with chairs decorate the floor and a small area is open for dancing. The bar is rather long and well stocked, glasses of different shapes and sizes hanging suspended from a rack above the bar. Behind the bar is another open window that gives one a view of the forest behind the tavern. Turning around, one is greeted by a lovely view of the lagoon. A decent breeze helps to cool the room. Up above, rafters provide a perch for fire lizards and local avians. The thatch roof, made of straw, rarely lets in any rain.


Who can blame Inri for a few hours' escape? Not Nyalle, apparently, considering how often she gets away with it: this might be because Inri carries her job everywhere with her, keeping up on her paperwork as well as the fact that her popping around Pern often is her duty. She's always been gifted at making friends and connections all over, and today is no different, when escaping Fort's winters for the kinder setting of Emerald Isle. Might as well take advantage of her schmoozing skills, her instant transport dragon and her welcome-basically-everywhere to find the Tiki Lounge a welcome place to … read. A book, in fact, and not anything more impressive, though the cover is obscured so one cannot tell how impressive it is or isn't. She's barefoot in a long flowy grey dress, hair pinned in a braid wrapped around her head. A brilliant green firelizard takes off from her shoulder to settle into the rafters and consult with a local parrot about the latest gossip.

Laga does not seem to be here to read. There are numerous clues that would help one reach this conclusion. First of all, she's in a needlessly shimmery and short blue dress, which would be sort of showy for reading. Second, she has no book with her. That would make reading difficult. Third, instead of the missing book, she has a glass of white wine in her hand. Also less than condusive to reading. Nope. She's here for fun. Spotting an unfamiliar woman with a braid sitting by herself, she decides to be social. She saunters over, wide smile on her face. "Hey there! Wanna dance?" This is apparently her usual opener with reading folks.

It's not as if Inri is wearing a knot or anything that makes her look anything less than approachable. There's two reasons for this, and the primary one is that she is always that approachable. She looks up from the book as a smile slowly builds on her lips, and says with some surprise, "Been a while since anyone's asked me that." Knowing Inri, that 'while' is likely something like a week or two at most, but she's definitely not ever one to say no. "I can't protest, though you're definitely dressed for far more jazziness than I am today."

Laga manages to smile even brighter when Inri takes her up on her offer. "Fantastic." She takes a quick swig of her wine and sets the half-emptied glass on Inri's table, freeing her hands to reach for Inri's. She'll practically drag her to the dance floor if she goes along with it. "Don't worry. Jazzy moves matter a lot more than jazzy dress." Laga claims, despite the jazziness of her own outfit. "I'm Laga."

"Jazzy moves, I've got," Inri promises, springing to her feet and setting the book aside. That green firelizard soars away from her parrot friend to sit down on it, guarding it like her own eggs (which she doesn't guard anywhere near as effectively). "Or at least so I'm told." Her bangles and rings are definitely sparkling and jangling a bit as she's halfway-dragged to the dance floor. Willingly dragged? "Matter of opinion?"

Laga grins. "Jazziness is mostly about attitude. So if you believe you've got the moves, you probably have them." This makes sense to Laga, at least. Once they're at the dance floor she puts her philosophy into action, hands raised and hips swinging as she moves with wild abandon, faster than the music really calls for. "Woo!"

Something no one could ever say: that Inri does not have that sort of attitude. She does match her partner well, though she tends to stick toward the typically 'female' role in a dance and follow to some extent. Her beat is definitely much closer to the actual tune, but she's attempting to bridge the gap. One of the Harpers recognizes her, waves; Inri winks and waves back. Excuse you, she's enjoying herself at the moment, give her a few.

Laga seems to feel that enthusiasm and a lack of inhibition can make passable substitutes for technique and a sense of rhythm. So much hip movement. "Yeah! You've got the idea." Noticing the person waving, she gets a little spark of curiosity. "So, what's your name?" She asks, raising one eyebrow slightly.

Inri has inhibition? News to her! Okay, so over the past ten — no — wait — fifteen turns of dragonriding, she has definitely grown more of a time of knowing when to turn it on or off. And having a child has given her a little bit more of a sense of carefulness at times. But since she isn't wearing her knot, she isn't that concerned about it, either. "I'm Inri," she offers with a friendly smile, assuming that can't possibly be too much of a giveaway; people cannot possibly be memorizing her name, surely, especially outside the Fort area? "A pleasure to pick up a random dance partner with such nice sparkles."

Laga certainly doesn't seem to recognize the name. She's only been a weyr visitor recently. Never had any reason to memorize the names of goldriders everywhere, particularly not Fort. So she just smiles. "Nice to meet you, Inri! You're certainly a nice dancer yourself." She beams, slowing as the song comes to an end. "Okay. Break time. Wine?" She asks, already moving to retrieve her glass.

"I try. Oh," and Inri's eyes sparkle a bit here, "yes. Wine is always the answer." She is, after all, a former bartender — never a vintner, but certainly a mixologist if anyone ever did say.

Laga grins. "A woman after my own heart." She finds her glass and downs whatever wine was left in there before waving over the nearest waitress. "Two more glasses of white wine!" She calls out, still full of chipper energy. "So. Inri. What brings you to the lovely Half Moon Bay?"

Ordering for her: a move of dominance that Inri is just as likely to find intriguing as she is rude, depending on who it's from. Here she seems to be parsing it as more unintentional than anything else. "There's an interesting new skin line," she says, airily thoughtful, taking a sip from the glass then handed to her, "Smoothing, moisturizing cream. I decided to come get a sample and then, well, I enjoy sitting in here." She may be a snow bunny, but change is nice.

That's Laga in a nutshell: rude yet intriguing. Well, that's a charitable take on her. She doesn't worry about it, in any case. Once her refill arrives she has a long drink, then claims a seat and lounges in it. "You came here just for moisturizing cream?" She looks a little amused by that. "Ah, you really came for the sun. I get it."

"No, I mostly came here for moisturizing cream. Why not?" Inri's being perfectly serious, too: her primary reason was the cream. It's not as if wintry Fort doesn't get plenty of sun! "But the loungey aspects of here are different than the loungey aspects of home, and I was, after all, already here at this point." Her sitting is more curling up than it is lounging, feet tucked under legs rather than dangling.

Laga smiles, her legs absently swaying. She seems to have a lot of energy tonight, despite the wine. "Because it just sounds like the kind of thing someone would make up for an excuse to visit a wonderful warm paradise like this." She says with a giggle. "So. Where is home for you?" She asks, curious.

Inri says simply, "I'm from Fort," as if that's enough of an explanation as to why she gets plenty of sun. "The Weyr. It's not warm, but it definitely gets plenty of sun — and vacationing somewhere warm doesn't really need an excuse, does it? Were that what I wanted to say I would have said it. But I actually came here for the cream. I can get tropical warmth any number of places, but that cream only here."

Laga got disconnected, so I'm basically posting this so I don't lose it. <3


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