Who Rulayn, Th'ero, Thys, Calisi, Ila'den, R'az
What Three bronzeriders walk into a bar…
When Winter, pre-Kayath's flight, Turn 2711
Where Shenanigan's Lounge, Fort Weyr

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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 dining 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.

Earlier poses missing.

And what Ila'den wouldn't give, in that moment, to be common folk. Grey eyes come up to focus on Roo, though Ila'den's posture remains hunched; he's watching the stablehand back her chair up as if she's only just /now/ decided that Ila'den's crazy is /the wrong kind of crazy/ (like the Ilaitis kind of crazy, were you to ask him) and he just /might/ be contagious. HE'S NOT. But if you're trying to escape, well… Despite the evident agitation, the bronzerider's lips curl up seconds before brief, low laughter escapes him and he drowns it with a quickness in his drink. Coincidentally, he is also trying to drown himself in his drink, which might explain why he's taking so long with it and holding his breath. "That depends on your definition of 'alright', little bird." Finally comes on an elongated exhale, when Ila'den pulls away from the SWEET GRIP OF HIS VICE and looks away from Rulayn to the Ierne rider delivering /the goods/ - and asking for them when THE STRUGGLE BECOMES TOO REAL. Ila'den grimaces in what /might/ be sympathy, and then flicks grey eyes right back to Roo. "A green just rose, little bird, and the best you can do is talk to me about runners?" The words might be biting, but the harsh barbs of each syllable are curbed by the lilting amusement clearly defined in his burr. Give him a moment, and he rises to his feet with drink in tow. "You can follow if you like," he tells Rulayn, but then he's on his way to R'az because THE MAN LOOKS LIKE HE KNOWS HIS ART. Ila'den dutifully points to a picture on the wall once he's come up alongside the 'rider, and dark brows race towards his hairline. "Please tell me you see two tunnelsnakes doing /the thing/." AND A HELLO TO YOU, R'AZ!

Rulayn is perfectly happy over this side of the table, thankyou very much. And that laughter? Not getting used to it either! With furrowed brows, Rulayn studies the rather tense form of the Bronzerider and his reply is just a little too harsh for the girl to take. She frowns. What else is she supposed to talk about? She doesn't know art, nor any other fancy craft and has nothing clearly of substance to offer, judging from Ila'den's decision to abandon their table for the company of a fellow rider. The offer to follow is given a shake of the young woman's head: she doesn't want to be stuck between two riders right now, thankyou. Although she glances over R'az she eventually turns her chair on the pair and faces back to the table to drink alone. For a brief moment she considers rejoining her fellow stablehands who she had wandered in with, but on a glance over to where they had stood, she quickly realised they'd already left. Typical.

R'az nods his thanks to the bartender as he gets served and he motions for him to leave the bottle. He looks over at Ila'den and he squints his eyes to look at the painting. "Kinda sorta maybe, but by the end of this bottle I'm sure that I will." He looks back to where Ila'den came from and he frowns a bit, "Not really nice to leave a lady like that." He takes his drink and the bottle to get up and he moves over towards her, "Excuse me. I apologize for my fellow's behavior, you should never leave a lady like that. Can I buy you a drink to make up for his behavior?" He asks as he goes to sit down next to her, "I'm Rider R'az from Irene Weyrhold. It's nice to meet you."

Even a wander through the living caverns and shedding winter-wear layers hasn't quite taken the chill off of Thys yet, as it clings to her leathers despite the warmth of the bodies in Shenanigan's. She squeezes her way through a knot of Miners, slipping past their hellos as quickly as is politely possible, and makes a beeline to the bar, already waving at the bartender before she's there and mouthing out her order to him. Once she's up alongside the bar, nestled against its familiar wooden warmth, she lets out a sigh of contentedness - and spots a familiar face, taking about tunnelsnakes. "Ila'den?" She might have to lean past R'az to be able to greet the Half Moon resident, but that doesn't mean she ignores the Iernian… until he gets up and walks away, before she can say hello. "Faranth," she says to Ila'den, nursing the drink that's just been delivered to her. "Do I smell, or something?"

What's this? A party? Chaos? Both!? It wouldn't be Fort if one or the other weren't happening at some point. The fact that a green flight is going down (or up?) is no surprise either. It's a Weyr, these things happen and while they're a bane to some, others can ignore it. Th'ero is not one of the lucky ones. Velokraeth's probably taken a fancy to that glowing green and the Weyrleader is just trying to… get away. It's worth a shot, right? Yeah, sure. Maybe if he drinks enough, his problems will go away! Not that Velokraeth stands a chance to snare the green; there's always a minimal chance, but lately the bronzes uses them for sport. Prepping for the Flight That Counts! Entering the lounge without so much of a glance about, he strides right for the bar, all dour and grim looking in his usual attire of black cloth and leather. Even after all these Turns, that hasn't changed a bit. Not much has changed about him at all. Same long, messy curly black hair (okay, so there's a little grey along the temples), same stoic expression, a few lines about his eyes and mouth from Faranth only knows how many Turns of stress. Up to the bar he goes, not even having to ask what he wants; the bartender sees him, nods and goes to fetch his usual poison. It's in that moment that he recognizes a voice and… nah. It can't be? Sure enough, he turns his head and: "Ila'den?" What the hell? There's a hurried nod to R'az and unfortunately he hasn't spotted Rulayn yet. And now Thys is there too and she's given the same sharp look and nod.

IT'S A CHAOS PARTY! Grey eyes blink after R'az as the man dismisses himself for Rulayn, amusement following his progress until Ila's attention settles back on Roo with more of that /sharding/ laughter - and is immediately pulled away by Thys. "/Thys/," he breathes, and the goldrider will have /NO CHANCE/ to escape the bronzerider as he's immediately filling up the space left behind by R'az and pulling the woman into the shelter of his body - for a rather overly-affectionate hug. "You are looking just as lovely and as young as the last time I saw you." Ila'den even turns his cheek to one side, rubbing I-Couldn't-Be-Bothered-To-Shave-Yesterday-And-Possibly-Not-The-Day-Before-Either stubble on the top of her head so that he's forced to smooth her hair back into some semblance of order when he finally lets go. And /why/ is he letting go? Because - "/Th'ero/?" YOU MIGHT INTIMIDATE YOUR MINIONS, TH'BRO, BUT YOU DON'T INTIMIDATE ILA'DEN. The bronzerider is on the man with a rasp of laughter before he pulls /him/ in for a hug too - and purposely holds it for an uncomfortable stretch of time. Somewhere between 'Faranth, why me?' and 'Is this really happening?' … /Actually/ it's starting to look more like a headlock and less like a hug. /Yeah/. That's definitely a headlock. FIGHT HIM, TH'ERO. "Faranth, it has been /turns/ if it's been a day. Are you still wooing Kimmila? Is she still mad at me for doing Zi'on's dirty work at Half Moon? Did you know that a green just rose?" And then Ila'den is tucking an arm into his body and extending his elbow for Thys, so that she can tuck her arm in his as he jerks his chin towards Roo and R'az. "If you two want to join me, I was just put in my place for abandoning little Rulayn in favor of figuring out /why/ you have art of tunnelsnakes going at it in your bar." THING. IN YOUR BAR THING. You're still in that headlock, Th'ero, if you haven't fought him out of it yet.

Rulayn had soon finished her drink and seemed about ready to get up and leave, giving Ila'den's painting a particularly annoyed look. Why wasn't she more cultured? Knowing the lineage of certain prized runners was something important, right? Maybe not. Just as she prepared to slide out of her chair, R'az's voice caught the young woman dead in her tracks and she turned to look at him, raising a brow as he seated himself. Someone was making themselves comfortable. "It's.. Nice to meet you too, R'az." Rulayn replies slowly, her eyes clearly scrutinising this poor fellow as well for any signs he might be 'under the influence'. His offer of a drink is given a shake of her head, and with a more awkward smile the young woman gestures to the door. "No, it's fine. I think I should be leaving anyway." She catches sight of Th'ero in passing, but as he seems intent on reaching the bar, she doesn't bother with a greeting. He looks too busy being trapped in a headlock anyway.

R'az gets in a sip his whiskey before he spots the next pair to enter the lounge. He salutes to the Weyrleader and the Junior Weyrwoman, "Irene Weyrhold's greetings." He says politely. He turns back to Rulayn, "Ah that's too bad that you have to leave, can I at least get your name before you go running away from us crazy bronzers." He says as he gives a self-deprecating laugh and an easy smile, "We aren't all as loud and roudy as Ila'den for the most part."

And Thys is blushing. Terribly so, even as she returns Ila'den's embrace with a press into his side and an arm around his waist, which lingers until he lunges for Th'ero - because it'd just be outright weird if she were in on that. So instead, she smoothes down her short hair because Faranth knows men can't do that right, and she picks up her drink so she can watch and listen as the bronzeriders grapple, until she's offered an elbow, which she accepts. Even though her Weyrleader's still in a headlock. "Be nice to our illustrious leader, Ila'den," she laughs, tapping him on the arm with her drink, before she takes a sip from it, peering over the rim in the direction he points. "Oh, you're here with Rulayn?" It's surprising to her, as is evidenced in her tone, but she smiles it off. "I think she has a thing for bronzeriders, but I would've thought you'd be a little beyond her reach… not that I can blame her." Hey Th'ero, you're getting a front row seat to the flirt show. "I'd be happy to join you all… and explain why there are tunnelsnakes shagging in Shenanigan's."

Th'ero should have KNOWN to be prepared but he was too caught up in watching Thys be swept up in Ila'den's greeting. So when he's all but pounced on, he doesn't stand a chance! The hug is awkward enough, if it ever was one. That was the trap, wasn't it? "Been weyrmated for over a decade and you'd best to ask her! Or are you too afraid?" he grunts and not to be rude. It's because he's in a headlock. How!? Did that even happen? He'll try to free himself but he's a Weyrleader and can't go throwing foreign bronzeriders around. Even if it's his long lost clutch BRO! Still, he'll try to give Ila'den a few good elbows to the ribs or side, along with some healthy shoving; AFFECTIONATE ones! For now. See, folks? Just two guys, being like bros. Until Th'ero gets pissed off and then it won't be fun and games no more. He's getting a front row seat to a lot right now, Thys! And some of it he DOESN'T want! Forgive him for not answering R'az or anyone else for that matter, he's a little preoccupied at the moment!

"A /decade/? Faranth, but Iris couldn't deal with me so long. Tell Kimmila to come down and I will booze her into forgiveness." ILA'DEN IS PERFECTLY GENTLEMANLY, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. If you ignore his interest in tunnelsnake shenanigans on display in Shenanigans. Or the fact that he's probably the only man brave enough (read: stupid enough) to put Fort's weyrleader in a headlock. Or… Okay. R'az is right. "Don't let him lie to you, little bird; we are all unruly and - /Faranth/, Th'ero, thos are my ribs - uncouth. It's why we have bronze - /TH'ERO/ - dragons!" They're the only ones LARGE ENOUGH to handle such personalities. SO IMAGINE WHAT THE GOLDRIDERS MUST BE LIKE. /THYS/. Speaking of goldies, Thys' words earn her low, husky laughter that ends almost as abruptly as its come. Grey eyes trail from Thys to Rulayn and right back again as he dips his head enough to faux whisper in her ear, "Don't be jealous, love. I - ow - ran into her and only got so far as getting her name - and now you're - ow - scaring her off." It's playful chiding, amusement as pronounced as curiosity in his tone. Then he escorts Th'ero's head and Thys by-the-arm over to the table where R'az sits and Rulayn looks like she's about to flee. It's only /now/ that Ila lets Th'ero go - hopefully before the man has turned into Th'Hulk or Ila'den's ribs have met an unfortunate fate. Perhaps all that authority is unintimidating when you've been a weyrleader yourself, regardless of how brief your stint in charge /was/. "Where are you going, little bird? Sit. I brought us company." He's even pulling out a chair for Thys, distracted only when grey eyes settle back on Th'ero full of mischief. "Alright, Weyrleader?" THROW HIM IN JAIL. AND THEN THROW AWAY THE KEY.

Was that a subtle jab at her height, Thys? Rulayn can hear you both from over here, by the way, and it's fortunate too that she's on her way out. She didn't need or want to be ridiculed for the company she kept. Of course, those attempts at leaving are promptly halted by the approach of the Bronzerider with both Weyrleader and Weyrwoman in tow, and that only earns Ila'den a certain, unreadable look. Was he in on it too? "I'm Rulayn." She mumbles sideways to R'az, her eyes never leaving the approaching trio, and once they're seated she slides herself just a bit more out towards the door. "I think you'd appreciate another rider's company more than mine. I have to see to some runners." With it being later in the day and already smelling of the stables, that's probably a lie, right Roo? Either way, it's the excuse she gives as she turns and paces away towards the door rapidly, not even bothering with the formal bow of the head.

R'az chuckles a little bit at Ila'den, "I suppose we all are when we want to be." He says as he finishes off his whiskey and then pours himself another one." He gets up as Rulayn leaves, "It was nice to meet you Rulayn, hopefully we'll meet again." He watches her go and he gets up to join the other riders, "I hope it wasn't something I said." He brings over his glass and bottle. He takes a seat, "Anyone else want a drink?" He offers to share.

"Possibly no more than whatever I said to make you run away from the bar," Thys quips to R'az, taking Ila'den's offer of a seat and settling into it between the bronzeriders. "Thys, by the way," she introduces herself to the Iernian, offering her hand to him. "I believe our Rulayn's been a little upset lately, so I wouldn't think it's anything you said. I think it's boy trouble." Th'ero gets a wink… he knows what she's talking about. Then she pats Ila'den's thigh, just a smidge above his knee, and grins. "I would hardly be jealous, now, would I? You're old enough to be her father, Ila." Followed by a wink. And a little knee-squeeze. Flirt.

A sallow-faced and slightly unhealthy young woman navigates through the crush of people in the living caverns. Exactly what makes her unhealthy looking isn't immediate until one takes the time to study her. She looks a little too drawn about the cheeks and the exposed collarbones of her dress like someone who has just recovered from a long illness. To go farther, someone who is functional and recovered but hasn't returned to their past equilibrium. She can't be out of her early twenties and at the moment wears no knot, threading her way through the tables with the intention of getting to the serving trays. She has to cross behind Th'ero and Ila'den to get there and as she does her walk turns more and more determined to get something to get her energy going again. Something sugary and sweet. In fact, she looks downright unsteady on her feet the closer that she gets. Someone has clearly overdone it but is close to the solution. She'll make it. Maybe.

There might be tables to be flipped! Th'ero will just use Ila'den's body to do it! There's no sympathy either for his elbowing and shoves interrupting the bronzerider. TOO BAD! This is what you get for putting him in a headlock! Weyrleader or not! Now he's being led away? Oh, so NOT COOL, Ila'den! There's swearing and muttered protest but he still doesn't kick Ila'den's ass all over the lounge. Stupid knot prevents him from being a complete ASS to visitors; even if the person in question is ASKING FOR IT! He'll catch that wink from Thys too and give a bit of a long suffering sigh. "Not now." he growls. Last thing he needs to think of is his son's behaviour of late. Little does he know K'vir will be the centre of attention LATER. Finally, he's set free and he'll give Ila'den a GOOD parting shove to the shoulders before rolling his own and stretching his neck by tilting his head. "What's with you!" Damn it, Ila'den! His IMAGE is ruined! And don't tempt him! R'az and Thys are glanced to with a sort of belated second greeting. None of them saw that, right? … or will speak of it? Good. GOOD! And who is this? He doesn't recognize Calisi, but he can tell when someone is off and she's certainly throwing that out in SPADES. "Excuse me. We're not done, either, Ila'den!" Cue a pointed finger. You. Me. SOON. He has a mysterious lady to catch up. Which he does right then, striding up from behind Calisi and trying to get a closer look as he gently greets her. "Are you alright?"

For all the shoving that Th'ero does in retaliation, Ila'den's only response is /laughter/ as he stumbles to keep his footing and then fixes the Fortian leader with a Cheshire smile. He does reach out to accept R'az's proffered booze - having left his own glass somewhere in SPACE AND TIME - and breathes, "But I /missed/ you," against the lip of his new glass in teasing tones for Th'ero - riiiight before he takes a swig and damn-near chokes when Thys squeezes just above his knee. There's a huff of laughter that comes amid much sputtering, and then a wicked raising of one of his brows as one calloused hand envelops the smaller one on his thigh for a squeeze. Ila replaces the offending appendage right back into Thys' own lap before bringing digits up as if to tuck stray hairs behind her ear. "What would you know of boy trouble?" MINX. YOU WOULD KNOW NOTHING. That's the subtext, in case you were wondering. R'az gets a knowing look, and then is offered an alarmingly softly spoken, "I don't think you did anything wrong," - soft because his eyes find the sickly woman just as Th'ero's do, and the weyrleader's OH-SO-SCURRY warning earn the bronzerider /another/ one of those Cheshire grins. "I look forward to it," he informs, raising his glass as if in salute even while he watches Th'ero check in on the woman. He's distracted because he wants to be sure of her wellbeing also, but certainly she doesn't need TWO bronzeriders fretting. So, Ila'den's grey eyes go right back to R'az and Thys. "Is he always like this?" Th'ero he means. GRUMPY.

R'az ahs, "I apologize for running away before being properly introduced. I'm R'az, bronzerider from Irene Weyrhold. I'm sorry to hear that she's having problems. She seemed nice. I just hope I didn't come on too strong." He shrugs and has another drink and he looks to the woman that just entered, "Excuse me are you doing all right?" He asks. "You look like you could use a stiff drink." He looks back to the others as it looks like the Weyrleader has it in hand, "Don't know only just met the man." He says as he takes another drink.

Thys saw nothing, Th'ero, and she gives him a look to say as much when he breaks free. She even smoothes out her hair as a hint to him that he might want to do the same, which gives her an excuse to do something with her hand since Ila'den removed it from his thigh. Although she doesn't see Calisi's entrance, what with her back being to the room, she does turn around to look at where the Weyrleader is going, which gives her the opportunity to have a good look at the foreign goldrider. "I'm not entirely sure who that is, but I know she's not from here," Thys says in a roundabout response to Ila'den's question, before she waves off R'az's apology with a little smile. "You're quite alright, R'az, no harm done." When R'az too gives his attention to the pale woman, Thys looks side-on at Ila'den. "Hero complex."

Calisi is not from here at all and to be suddenly accosted makes her jump a little. She really must have been a little bit out of it. Turning a little too quickly to give a polite smile to R'az, Calisi wavers and almost falls — saving herself by grabbing onto the shirt with both hands of the nearest man to her. It happens to be Th'ero and she really doesn't give a malarky who it is, clinging to that shirt with both hands and resting her head on his chest for a second. "Please don't move." She implores with tones stronger that she is right now, her request sounding just that: a request instead of the necessity that it actually is. If he doesn't move she catches her breath for a dozen seconds. "I'm sorry. I'm all right. I was sick for a long time and I'm still not up to par. I pushed myself too much this morning and forgot to eat. I can only do one of those and manage. Just need to eat something. Thank you." This is to Th'ero and the polite smile that she intended to R'az manages to return to her face. When she smiles Ila'den might get an all too short flicker of recognization. He's seen this woman before in healthier times. Somewhere. Somewhere. "That's really not a good idea." She murmurs at R'az. "Right now? Two shots and I'd be on my ass and nobody wants to carry me." Realizing she's still leaning on Th'ero she experimentally releases one hand, then the other and finds that she's still on her feet. So she grabs up a piece of cake and begins to eat it quickly. Sugar!

While she's still looking curiously at the unknown woman, Thys's expression takes on that look that her present company should understand; a look that says there's a silent conversation going on with someone not in the room. After a moment, Thys sighs softly, knocks back the rest of her drink, and slaps the glass down on the tabletop. "If you'll excuse me, please, there's something I have to attend to." Standing up, the goldrider smiles and nods to say farewell, before walking away past Th'ero and Calisi with a similar polite nod of farewell to the bronzerider. But then she's gone, slipping out of the door and into the Weyr beyond."

R'az nods, "Well we wouldn't want that now would we?" He says as he continues to drink and he looks to Thys, "It was nice to meet you." He says as he watches her go. He looks back to Calisi, "Sorry to hear that you were sick, but glad to see you are on the mend." He says as he tries to make conversation.

Grumpiness runs in his BLOOD! If you think Th'ero is bad? Go and meet his sister. He'll give Ila'den a narrowed look and one has to wonder if he didn't hear that! Poor R'az, probably getting the totally wrong image of the Weyrleader. Thanks a lot, guys! Calisi suddenly clinging to his shirt draws all of Th'ero's attention and while he visibly stiffens (NOT in that way, gross), he's enough of a gentleman not to just stand there; his hands will lift and rest firmly but gently, on her shoulders in a supportive manner. "You should be sitting down, then. Wouldn't do if you lost your balance and cracked your skull on one of the tables." Please don't, he has enough paperwork and horrors to deal with to last him another decade. When she finally lets go of his shirt, he'll let go of her shoulders and back off just enough to give some respectful distance between them. After she's helped herself to the cake? He'll gesture towards the table everyone else have settled themselves at. "Join us? Can order something more for you too, if that would help." Name it and she'll get it! See? Th'ero can be nice! Just don't put him in a headlock! Once he's certain Calisi won't be collapsing on him, he'll rejoin Ila'den and R'az, only aware then that Thys is gone. "Did we lose another?"

Stubborn, thy name is Calisi. "I'll be all right now." Calisi reassures Th'ero as she holds up the plate. "I've got food. That's good enough for me." She even gets out a smile to R'az. It's probably the only thing on her right now that doesn't seem like it's recovering from illness — a wide and genuinely cheerful grin. "Hey, I appreciate that. It wasn't any fun. It's nice to stand on my own two feet again. Work just feels harder than it needs to be." As though she was about to waver again on her feet, Calisi steps back into Th'ero and leans her shoulder against his ribs and her head into his collar as she eats her cake. It's not possessive but it's certainly assumptive. She seems to think he won't step away and let her fall because that would be a real asshole thing to do. Then something dawns on her and she does a double take, looking at the cake, looking Th'ero in the face and looking at her cake again. "Holy shit, you look like Kiena. I'd forgotten that you two were related and didn't notice the knot. You must be Th'ero." So, knowing it's the weyrleader she should stop leaning right? Nope.

R'az pours himself some more whiskey and he takes another drink of it. He nods, "Yep another lady down. We should go find some more, so where do you hide them?" He asks the Weyrleader as he figured he'd know. He says so teasingly, "Although it looks like you got yourself one."

"Usually here," Th'ero intones in such a way to R'az that it's difficult to say if he's serious or not. If only he'd a chance to start drinking! Then he may have muttered something about brothels; of which Fort has none (it totally does) according to him. SOMEONE must realize that the WEyrleader is going to need his poison and the neglected mug from before Ila'den's headlock is brought over to the table. Along with a pitcher and some more food. It pays to be high ranking sometimes! Before he can sit though, Calisi is pressing back against him and she may as well be resting against a stone wall for the amount of comfort and warmth (there is NONE) he gives. He won't let her fall, but he's definitely trying to subtly and gently steer her towards a chair. Her double take involving the cake earns a quirked brow. What? And then his eyes narrow and yes — there's definitely elements of Kiena there. "I am," How… not charming? Really, she could get more enlightening conversation from R'az or anyone other than him. "You know my sister? I'm afraid I don't know your name." Yeah, because he and Kiena are totally (not) on talking terms. R'az is given a sharp look. "What? I'm only helping her…" Sure. Sure he is.

"Awww." Calisi murmurs into Th'ero's chest. It's uncertain if she's talking to R'az or the Weyrleader. "I feel so objectified. Look at the little lady cling to the weyrleader. She must love him. Men in power, gosh." She's dripping with venom and sarcasm in a way that could make her an honorary Irondell almost. "Not my type, love." She quips back to Raz after her little sarcastic speech. "You can relax, he's safe. Besides. We're kin." She's just about as warm as he is. It's a talent, almost. To go from that wide and honest smile to such ice. Kin? Does that surprise Th'ero. "Technically. My mate is Marel. Mur'dah's sister. So technically, I'm your sister in law. Hi." She refuses to be steered as of yet and she refuses just as much to let go. Has she provided enough information to identify who she is? She's being coy about coming out and saying it.

R'az smiles, "I'll just have to wait a bit then." Th'ero's mutter is noted and tucked away for later use. "I'm sure you are." He leans back and laughs, "I didn't say anything about love, just noticed how you were leaning against him." He snickers a bit as he continues to drink his whiskey and he nods, "Nice for you."

Th'ero struggles not to roll his eyes either because that would be un-Weyrleader like and rude of him. Still, the sigh that he gives is close to exasperated when Calisi continues to lean on him and make those comments. "Even if you were, I'm not available. You'd have better luck with anyone else here." Just WHAT is he implying? He shrugs off her cold tone and the sarcasm with it but will continue to try and gently move her into a chair and off his person. Th'ero is not cuddly to begin with and doesn't even hugs his own weyrmate in public eye (often, anyways). Sister-in-law? That has him pausing for a moment, narrowed gaze turning thoughtful. "I thought those two had split?" he mutters, giving her a look. Is she trying to lie and pretend to be someone she isn't? And sorry, Calisi, but he's not making the connection. Whether it be because he's distracted or because Kiena never told him about her — at least by name.

Calisi raises a platinum eyebrow. They are so pale that it's not easy to see it, let alone how far it goes up. "Trust me." Calisi says. "If I wanted warmth, you aern't the sibling that I'd look for." She completely misses at first what he said, the last point being more important. "You do know who Mur'dah is? He has a sister. Marel. She has a weyrmate. Calisi. That would be me." She speaks slow and careful so that he can understand as though he were a simpleton and right that moment takes a bite of cake. Then she processes what she heard belatedly as it catches up. Mur'dah and Kiena had split? The coughing fit that results sends cake flying from her mouth and she drops the plate. If she was unsteady before she'll end up on her knees now if Th'ero doesn't catch her, coughing and spluttering as her face turns bright red from lack of air. "They. WHAT?" She chokes out.

LOOK AT ILA, sitting quiet, watching the whole dramatic thing unfold, occasionally flicking a glance to R'az because /he should not be the only one to witness this/. Somebody else who is FEARLESS in the face of TH'BRO? A woman worth knowing - a very, /very/ familiar looking - "/Faranth/." It's all flat tones, the proverbial 'Bugger' version of dead queens being invoked, and emitted along with an exaggerated sigh. Ila'den pushes out a chair for Th'ero to rid himself of Calisi in because THAT IS WHAT BROS DO, and grey eyes beseech the Fortian leader with some kind of muted amusement before his attention goes to the goldrider. WINGMAN POWERS, ACTIVATE! "I know you," comes that husky burr, riddled with the unabashed humor one might expect in a man bold enough to come between a viper and a mongoose. "You're that woman. On the beach. With the…" a gesture towards his chest area but REST EASY, HE IS NOT TALKING ABOUT YOUR BOOBS. "… the missing knot." Which he knots, like his own, is still /missing/. "Huh." And the bronzerider rolls his shoulders, kicking out another chair further for Th'ero as if this might help the man escape for a sit. "You going to let her talk to you that way in your weyr, Th'ero?" LOOK AT HIM JUST OOZE mirth, punctuated by another one of those infuriating /smiles/.

R'az finishes his whiskey in a large gulp, "Well if you all will excuse me I have a dragon that needs tending to." He pays for his drink and salutes to Th'ero, "Thank you for your weyr's hospitality. It was nice to meet you all." He says as he heads out.

Th'ero wants to WIPE that infuriating smile right off Ila'den's face! With love, of course. He'll be given his own look too, which is darkly amused as the Weyrleader may pretend that he's all pissed off but underneath all those layers he's laughing at this. Laughing hard. He'll catch what Ila'den did there too with the chair and, not to let the GOOD gesture go to waste, will have Calisi seated in it whether she likes it or not. While he doesn't force her, per say, it's quite obvious that it's no longer so much a request as an order that she sits and leave him alone. Prickly one, yeah? "You're not my type either," he fires back for that earlier retort of hers but will take some pity when she begins to choke and at least pour her some water. He'd pour her some of his drink too but that'd just be cruel. "I do know who Mur'dah is. I did not know he had a sister." Ouch. "So you'll have to forgive me, Calisi, for not knowing these details. That will be something you can take up with my sister." Sarcasm laces his tone again and he'll take a seat beside her, likely effectively wedging her between him and Ila'den. You're welcome!

The unfortunate thing for all of the coldness that she'd provided earlier, Calisi seems genuinely upset by the news of Kiena and Mur'dah. So much so that she actually can't quite get any word to her mouth, silently taking the glass and getting it to her lips and picking herself off the floor. She should be snapping back at Ila'den and calling him a shit disturber, or telling Th'ero that his sister is twice as hot as he is and probably has a bigger dick — certainly bigger balls — but that's not what ends up happening. She almost meekly bumps between Ila'den and Th'ero and kind of flops into the chair. She looks ill again and holds her glass with both hands. "That's … actually really sad. I wasn't kidding when I said I've been sick. I was unconscious for a month." There's no abrasion or coldness, just a sudden honesty brought out by unexpected news and a bit more of a human look than the ice queen she was trying to be. "I'm really sorry for them and their children. That's awful. I thought.. I thought she had everything all worked out. I guess nobody told me because they didn't want me to be upset? I'm really fond of her. I'd never have impressed Meirath if it wasn't for her."

ALAS. ALL GOOD THINGS MUST COME TO AN END. LIKE ILA'DEN'S PRESENCE. I know, I know. WOE BE UNTO THOSE WHO WILL SOON BE BEREFT OF THE BRONZERIDER, but there's the obnoxious pop of a flit coming from in between and then pegging Ila'den right in the side of the head so that the man's forced to catch that table in order to keep from spilling out of his chair. It doesn't help. He's on the ground anyway, covered in drink, and looking for all the world as if murder is ON THE MIND. He catches the flit in his fist as the green thrashes and protests the rough treatment, seconds before Ila'den jerks a letter from her. He lets her go only then, and she disappears between, leaving Ila'den to scan the paper with grey eyes and rub at the side of his OFFENDED FACE. One, two, and he's choking out laughter that's entirely inappropriate in the face of Calisi's mounting uh… disappointment. Ila'den seems to realize this, stifling the sound by shoving a knuckle between his teeth, and then eyes full of too much mirth find Th'ero from the ground. "I uh… I have to go." And he's pulling himself up, dripping whiskey, and gently pats Calisi on the shoulder. "It will be okay." WILL IT? He's giving Th'ero a salute-wave in goodbye, mouthing that he'll be back sooner than later to CATCH UP, and then he's retreating. Probably because the minute he's out of the door he's letting loose with raucous laughter, and that would just be /so/ impolite given the mood of company.

It's all well and good that Calisi doesn't say what's really on her mind and that Ila'den keeps that laughter to himself. Th'ero's expression remains as stoicly neutral as always, even in the face of her remarks on his sister. "I'm sorry to hear you've been unwell." he murmurs and that may actually sound sincere too. He has no answers for her, just a quiet shake of his head. "You'd be best to speak to her, Calisi. My sister and I are… not the closest." Better than they've been before but there's a HUGE gap of shared information. The only thing he DOES know? "I often see her in the company of a rider here. One of my Wingleaders, a brownrider? Ashwin." That's all he has, sorry! "Meirath?" Velokraeth will fill him in then, if the pale, ugly bronze hasn't already tried to woo his way into her good graces with his honeyed tongue and MUCH warmer words (hint: it's a trap) and wit. Th'ero's brows will lift now and he leans back in his seat. "Weyrling Calisi? We best not let Weyrwoman Nyalle know you are here and unwell. She's going to fuss over you and probably insist you be seen by our Healers." It's not an idle threat. Hide low, girl. Hide LOW. Ila'den's spill to the floor due to a firelizard TO THE HEAD has Th'ero just staring at the man. "You alright?" he asks, a bit too crisply. Never a dull moment, huh? "Safe flight then and don't be so long in visiting again. It's been too long." And he SO WANTS revenge for that headlock! So bad. They may need to take a vacation together… because nothing will go wrong, will it?

Calisi still seems rather powerfully affected by the news. "Weyrling Calisi. Gold Meirath's." She confesses, finally owning up to it. So that's why she doesn't wear her knot at all. "Soon to be Weyrwoman, as of a week from now I think. If they don't hold me back thanks to being sick. Which I really need to go and get back, I don't feel well at all. You've been supportive even if you've been ice cold and I kind of appreciate it. Kind of." She's rambling a bit but this does seem such a surprise. But the news of the brownrider doesn't. "Yeah, I know. She had something going with both of them I think. It's complicated." She obviously doesn't judge for being abloe to love more than one person at once. "I'm really sorry, but I need to go. Thank you. If you see your sister, tell her to come visit me again." She rises and leaves without further comment. She'll be aboard Meirath and heading back to Xanadu.

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