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.

OOC: This log gets a little naughty!

There's a tournament going on in Shenanigan's tonight - cards, no less! It's an open-to-all sort of game, with members of every Fortian strata tossing in their thoughts via the, ah, non-traditional cards that are being played. "What is Faranth's pleasure?" Asks one greenrider, reading from a black card while drawing the white ones up towards him. "All you can eat wherry for a quarter mark… playboy firelizards - hah…" He shuffles through the others, then slaps one down on the table - "Southerners' bleached ar-" "N'zir!" Thys cuts chidingly through what he's about to say, even though she's laughing along with the others who can read what's written there. "That's awful."

Nothing like Shenanigan's living up to its name! Th'ero rarely comes down here just to relax and mostly ventures in to see what there may be of entertainment… even if it means he sits quietly in a corner and nurses one of those black ales he prefers. Unsettling? Maybe but most weyrfolk have grown accustom to his habits by now, Weyrleader or not. Today though? The laughter coming from the table where Thys is seated draws his attention. A card game? Surely this could be nothing but innocent (or at the worse, some gambling!). "Evening," he murmurs, peering curiously at the white faced cards and the black. "What… game is this?"

"And that's mine again," Zhirayr says calmly, pulling one of the tiny little tokens out of the bowl in the center of the table and adding it to his already-fairly-substantial pile, marking his wins. As it happens, it's also his turn to judge — and so he does, laying the black card out on the table for all to see: 'A romantic, candlelit dinner would be incomplete without ___.' Just in time for Th'ero to come in. Of course. Lucky Weyrleader, such a seemingly innocuous card to be your first exposure! Stifling his laughter, Zhirayr quickly deals several white cards to the Weyrleader as well. "Come join in, sir," he orders/invites/instructs merrily. It might be a warning sign. (At least he can't add to his marker pile this round.)

K'drozen makes his way into the bar looking mainly just to get himself a drink, the laughter though catches his attention and draws him over towards the table pearing those playing quietly.

"Oh! Hello, Weyrleader." Does Thys hide the card she's about to slide facedown to Zhirayr, so that Th'ero can't see it? Absolutely. Yes. Then it's pushed across to the black-clad player, and she grins from him back to the bronzerider, echoing the invitation - even if some of the others around the table look a little… less excited. "Yes, you should join us! There's always room for one more!" And indeed, one less comfortable lower caverns worker hands over his cards to Th'ero as he gets up to go. "There," Thys says, gesturing to the now empty seat. "Now you have to play. We need to fill that chair."

Th'ero seems suspicious AND curious now, having overheard Zhirayr reading his card and the behaviour of Thys trying to hide her card. "Something is telling me I may regret this decision?" he drawls as he takes the nearest empty seat. As the cards are dealt to him he lifts them up and expects to see numbered suits or suits. Instead… there's words? What SORCERY is this!? "Uh… What… kind of card game is this? A word game?" he murmurs, glancing between Thys and Zhirayr. Explain! Because… "… I see why this may be played here too." Faranth only knows what kind of cards he's holding now and judging by how he keeps peering at one or two… the subjects may be rather, ah… unexpected?

K'drozen smirks as he looks down at the table and says softly, "What kind of game are you all playing?" he looks a bit suspicious as he nears the table and looks down to the cards. Standing before an empty seat and tilts his head just a bit.

"Irreverence," answers Zhirayr, because apparently that's the name of the card game. Probably. Or it's just a descriptor; could go either way with these cards, right? He nods toward the discarded white cards of Yet Another Person Afraid To Play Against The Weyrleader in invitation for K'drozen. "You draw a new card at the beginning of every round you aren't judging, because you'll set one down at the end of each round, too. You choose from your hand whichever card you personally feel is the best fit for the black card, and then the judge chooses which he — yes, or she, thank you — thinks is the best, from the options selected. Whoever's card that was gets a token. At the end of the night…" He trails off, shrugging, because he does have a very large pile, right now. Possibly it's because he dresses in black so frequently?

Zhirayr provides an ample description, leaving Thys to nod in approval… and blush. Her cheeks are very red. "That's right," she says to Th'ero, and looks up to K'drozen with a grin; he heard it too, right? "C'mon, K'drozen - there's room for one more." And another deck ready to be taken up! Her own pile of black cards is small, and she drums her fingers on it as she watches the others around the table submit their cards. She's impatient! "Go on, Zhirayr, tell us what you've got!"

K'drozen moves to take a seat and smirks just a bit and says, "I will give anything a try once, How many cards do I draw to start." he looks between Thys and Zhirayr slowly and smiles.

Th'ero tucks that name (or descriptor) away in his memory and doesn't even seem to realize that some of the players have slinked away since he's arrived. "So I have to hand you one of these… that matches what I heard you read out?" he drawls with a smirk. Oh, he's catching on fast! Thys' blushing sinks it for him. It's one of THOSE games! Even more scandalous than strip poker. The Weyrleader chuckles gruffly and while some would get all bent out of shape, Th'ero seems to roll with it. Given the news of late? Maybe even HE needs a distraction like this. "Seems straight forward enough. Evening to you too, K'drozen. Ah… here you go, Zhirayr." Plucking one card, he'll slide it over for his review with as straight a face as he can manage. Just when he's starting to settle, his head tilts and then he sighs heavily and sets the rest of his cards flat. "Shards, I can't even sit for two seconds… I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse me." No rest for the Weyrleader! Nodding to them, he politely excuses himself and storms off towards the stairs leading up to the Wing lounges. Another time, perhaps!

Zhirayr reaches over to the cards in front of K'drozen, counts them rapidly, adds two, and shoves them back toward him. "Ten, each round," he answers. "You're set with those, if you want to just hurry up and play —" He eyes the piles in front of all the other players, and the Weyrleader's now-abandoned spot. Almost out of time.

"You're all set to go!" Thys grins at K'drozen, drumming her fingers a little more urgently. Maybe she's got an especially good card in the mix with the others? Maybe even a winning card that she wants to see drawn! And, although she's polite in saying her goodbyes to Th'ero, she can't help but sigh a little in relief when the Weyrleader gets up to go. "Oh dear Faranth, that could have been awkward if he'd stayed," she gushes, perhaps a little more free with her talk due to the boozy cocktail she's been sipping on throughout the game.

K'drozen chuckles and glances rapidly though the cards and raises and eyebrown and andys, "oh wow…" he pulls one of the cards to slide it slowly over to Zhirayr, not really having spent much time looking at them but wanting to get the game started.

"Okay. Let's see, now…" Zhirayr carefully gathers in all the little white cards, keeping track — somehow, in his stewardly brain — of which card belonged to whom, as he starts flipping them over, one at a time, next to the card which reads 'A romantic, candlelit dinner would be incomplete without ___.' Options for his judgment range from 'Explosions' to 'Lockjaw', from 'A Between-time paradox' to 'Friction', from 'The Weyrleader's doodahs' to 'Bees?', from 'Getting weyrmated, having a few kids, buying some stuff, retiring to Ista, and dying' to 'Destroying the evidence', and from 'A zesty breakfast burrito' to 'A middle-aged man on rollerskates'. "Tough choices," Zhirayr muses, keeping a remarkably straight face as he reads them all out, and then eventually he taps on one in particular — "'Destroying the evidence', he repeats, and smirks ever-so-faintly. "Which actually means that the Weyrleader wins this round, I believe."

"Oh, bugger." Thys is disappointed, and raps her knuckles hard against the table. "Well, since he's not here… I'm going to take his turn." Before anyone can dispute she leans across to pluck up a black card, smirking as she reads it. "What's that sound?" She holds up the card to show it, waggling her brows at the rest of the group. "I'm so glad 'The Weyrleader's doodahs' card has been played already."

K'drozen laughs and says, "That is just so wrong." he drawns anothe card and tilts his head, he smirks and just shake his head, "These cards are just wrong." as he pulls a card and slips it over towards Thys and just shakes his head.

"I think they've been a great deal of fun for — what is it, three shuffles now?" Zhirayr squints at the draw pile, at the discard pile, and at the pile of tokens in front of him in an equal-opportunity sort of fashion, before drawing, choosing, and sliding a card over. "Who brought them, anyway?" So apparently it wasn't him.

Thys blushes as she gathers the white cards in towards her, giving Zhirayr a shy little smile. "Me." When everyone's handed their cards over, she starts reading. "A… oh Faranth. A mating display? Hah! Two greenriders macking… oh dear, this one's awful - who on Pern said 'Lessa's v— Lessa's ladybits'?" She tries to look disapprovingly at the players, but it doesn't quite work since she's trying not to laugh. "Taking off your shirt, having fun with a redfruit pie… Ok, I'm going to go with… A mating display. Who's is that?"

K'drozen laughs at the list of cards and raises his head, "That would have been me." he just shakes his head, "Where did this game come from anyways?" he grins a bit and reaches to pull out one of the black cards reading it for a moment and says, "Well this one shouldn't be too bad…" he places the card down revealing the question. 'What did I bring back from Ista?'

"I come from a mining hold," Thys says by way of explanation. "What did I bring back from Ista? Oh - oh, I think I have the perfect card for this…" She grins, fanning out her hand to look at her options as she picks up her drink and finishes it. The empty glass is nudged aside, she does a little hiccupy thing for a moment - a clear sign she's overindulged - then slides her card over to K'drozen.

"Well, well, well," smirks the assistant headman, among others. "Who knew our junior weyrwoman had such unplumbed depths?" leered someone else, who promptly got elbowed sharply in the kidneys for the innuendo. After all, if she couldn't be more explicit than 'ladybits'… When it's his turn, Zhirayr draws, glances, and immediately plays the card he's just drawn — apparently, nothing else in his hand was about to suit. Not that there's actually that much left in the draw pile, either — by the time the round is done, it's just about gone.

K'drozen picks up one card at a time and just laughs and says. "Micropig wearing a tiny raincoat and booties?" he shakes his heand and glances about as he pick up the next one, "Your mum." he laughs and turns that one around and says, "Thats just wrong, whos is this?"

Thys holds up her hand, cheeks well and truly flushed now - that 'unplumbed depths' comment has her very embarrassed. "That would be me," she admits in as straight a voice as she can manage. "I think… I think I ought to maybe turn in for the night, um…" A glance over to the pool table has her grinning, and she wiggles her fingers at the glasscrafter playing over there. "Or go lean on Ral a little bit. Um… here." She plucks a black card from the deck, and hands it to the nearest player - N'zir, as it happens. He delightedly reads it out. "There's nothing worse than when it's caused by ___."

Zhirayr is, maybe, a little disappointed that his micropig didn't win the last round, but he takes the blow in a manful fashion, for all that his hand is whittled down to a sad state. Nevertheless… He muses, long and hard, since nobody's bothering to draw cards from the nonexistent pile this time, and eventually slides his two cards over to N'zir. And reaches for his drink, only to find — surprise! — it seems to have vanished. Damn.

K'drozen leans back in his chair and studies his cards for a moment and says, "WEll thi game is certainly intresting." as he slides his cards over with a strait face.

N'zir flips through the cards handed to him, smirking as he reads them out. "Nothing worse than whiplash when it's caused by caprines… sex when it's caused by grandma. Really? Hah. Dropping a chandelier on your enemies and riding up the rope when it's caused by not wearing pants - hahaha. And… what. There's nothing worse than hot cheese when it's caused by assless chaps? What?!" He guffaws, dropping those two cards down on the table. "Winner. That's the winner, right there!"

Zhirayr doesn't claim the last token, but it is his turn to be the judge — for what's probably going to be the very last round. Oh well. He probably still has enough tokens to be the overall winner of the game, right? He clears N'zir's discards away into the rest of the discard pile while the winner takes his congratulatory token, and — as soon as everybody's ready, or close enough to it — he plays the last card of the evening: 'Make a haiku.' And nevermind that nobody can draw two before picking three.

After umming and aahing, N'zir sets his cards down on the table. "Threadfall, Farting and blaming someone else, Grandma's wherry salad." It's… poor, to say the least. But it's all he's got!

And, for the most part, everybody else is tapped out, too — with one exception, and one exception only: the enterprising soul who'd raided the Weyrleader's discarded cards for additional ammunition. She, a fourteen-year-old busser for the bar, looked both delighted and embarrassed as the Assistant Steward read her cards out in an ominously portentous voice, only to be met immediately after with thunderous applause from all the drunk players and spectators alike: "Breaking out into song and dance / Throwing a virgin into a volcano / A disappointing turnday party."

"Very good game," Zhirayr agrees, clapping N'zir on the shoulder with no regard for rank in any direction at all (hey, maybe they're on the same level…? who knows right now!) and collecting all his little tokens with single-minded focus. Those are worth things, you know! Right now, they're worth taking home to bed — he might be due to start a shift in about four hours, judging by his speed as he slithers out the door, waving and calling to people as he goes.