Who J'en, Leimna, Risali, Rulayn, V'nyk, Vossrik, Xhanfyr
What Half Moon Bay Riders J'en and V'nyk are back, but so is Risali.
When Summer, 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 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.


Having dragged V'nyk off to somewhere private for a while, eventually J'en does return later that evening to the bar for those drinks he wanted in the first place. He heads back to the exact same table, sits in the exact same seat, and flags down a wench. "Keep them coming?" she asks dryly, because she was the same girl to serve him just a couple hours ago. The bronzerider snorts, but confirms with a very short nod. This done, she heads off to get his order, "Make it two, mah friend ain't walkin's so good." V'nyk is probably walking just fine, but J'en is an asshat and its what he does.

V'nyk /is/ walking just fine, thanks! Though he's a bit behind J'en when it comes to returning to the bar. Not too late to miss the comment about how steady he might be though. There's a bit of an eyeroll and a smirk as he makes his way to his seat, offering a brighter look for the woman getting the drinks as he passes. "You'll have to try harder than that, Jae." He settles down though, leaning back into his chair comfortably. "That's an offer, by the way. Totally free for the rest of the night and all that." Nope, not at all bothered, this one.

Rulayn shouldn't really be in Shenanigan's at this evening, what with the white knot and high expectations of her and all. She isn't hitting the sauce tonight, but is instead in the company of a much older woman, who bears a striking resemblance to the young woman, at their own separate booth. The pair seem to be at ease, talking and occasionally laughing together over their drinks. Curled up upon the table is a green firelizard too, surveying the pair as they chat. After some time though, the older woman does rise and bid a farewell before taking off, leaving Rulayn seated alone at her table. It's only as she watches her mother leave that the dragonhealer's gaze pauses upon the two familiar riders occupying themselves. Oh, look who it was, again.

WHOMP WHOMP. Quiet, uneventful evening at Shenanigans, they said. NOBODY WILL BOTHER YOU HERE, they said. THEY LIED. It happens at the lulliest lull of Shenanigan conversation hush, almost as if the barkeep and the patrons and the walls themselves are holding their breath in anticipation for - KABASH! "TH'ERO IS HERE." No, those aren't your eyes playing tricks on you: that is a woman with black hair pinned up to look like Fort's Weyrleader, she is in all blacks and a cape, and she is sprouting a mustache and facial beard that are clearly real hair, but clearly not HER hair - don't ask, really. Just really don't ask. STOMP STOMP STOMP, Leimna goes, affecting the air of a man long-suffering hating all the things and finding no joy in puppies or kittens or life or any of the things. There's a collective groan, perhaps a rolling of the eyes and a few distant snickers, but it's clear: the weyr is accustomed to the level of crazy (or just this crazy). FLOUNCE FLOUNCE FLOUNCE, and SUSPECTED ROO-MAMA gets dodged on her way out as the candidate makes her way over to Rulayn and EEEEK SQUEEZE HUG FROM BEHIND. You would think they are friends. They are not friends. They are frenemies, but it doesn't stop Leia's eyes from going to V'nyk and J'en and - "Oooh, handsome," she breathes into Roo's ear, and then she's righting herself. "YOU TWO. STRANGERS. TH'ERO COMMANDS YOU PROCREATE WITH THIS ONE," she is motioning to Rulayn, yes. "AND THEN NAME ALL OF THE BABIES TH'ERO." RUN FLEE. MADNESS.

"Ya want it rougher next time?" J'en asks, sliding golden eyes the way of the greenrider, the chill that cools his deep tenor still present despite whatever those two had been up to before returning to the bar. The bronzerider shrugs one shoulder, handing one of the beers brought to their table shortly after V'nyk took a chair for himself over to him, and then takes the other for himself. His attention is undivided upon the younger boy for now, so he misses the way the wench was intentionally swaying her hips as she walked away. Not biting, sorry. "Can be arranged, Ryk." Popping the top of the bottle, he tips it back and takes a mouthful, letting his gaze now wander. He had missed the arrival of Rulayn and her mother, but as the older woman gets up his eyes follow the motion and by proxy he spies the candidate. Gaze meets gaze, with Jae's chin lifting a few degrees, then he looks back to V'nyk again. "Oh yeah?" he asks, sounding about as interested in that prospect as he would standing naked in a blizzard wearing a lacy pair of panties on his head, and suddenly legs are brought up with boots on the table, crossed at the ankle. "We'll see who else comes around before I'm too drunk to care." Does he care to begin with? Didn't sound or look like it. One has to wonder what the greenrider sees in that guy. Suddenly there is Lemnia, golden eyes sliding towards the door, and lashes lowering. A single head to toe assessment of THAT situation and the bronzerider looks away with a snort, utterly uninterested. It's only when she addresses both himself and V'ynk directly that he very slowly slides his gaze back, his expression better suited to watching paint dry than a comical depiction of Fort's Weyrleader in all its stolen beard-hair glory. Then, without a sound, his eyes slide back to V'nyk. "I ain't drunk enough for this shit."

Perhaps oddly enough, V'nyk doesn't seem phased at all by the cold shoulder J'en is giving him. He simply grins and tips his drink slightly in the bronzerider's direction before taking a gulp of it. Though there's a start and a prompt 'thank you' belted out after the retreating lady that brought the drinks in the first place. /Manners/ are important! He does at least open his mouth to respond though to his friend before there is a sudden entrance of an /imposter/. A loud imposter. The greenrider turns that-a-way to just stare a moment, eyes gone large. Then? Applause. Oh yes, there's quite a bit of clapping for Leimna and the saunter, leaning in toward J'en all the while. "Well you just got an option of a bearded lady, Jae. You wanna go see if she'll..uh…he? Th'ero-ma'am would sleep with you?" He straightens up though, lifting up his glass once they're called to. "Sorry! Terribly sorry, sir, but I'm not much in the /procreation/ department. My friend Jae here, though. Well he'll get her right good and full of children, I'm sure."
Leimna has partially disconnected.

Groan. What part of behaving was so difficult for Leimna to understand? Although Rulayn held that gaze with the Bronzerider for several seconds, her attention is sharply drawn to the doorway and the imminent Th'ero-wannabe as she comes charging in with the same enthusiasm as a child with a bowl of candy. And the hug is responded to with a prompt 'oof' as Leimna wraps her arms around the dragonhealer's torso. Really, now? The command practically bellowed for all to hear in the Lounge makes Rulayn grimace with embarrassment and she tries to grasp the other girl's arms in order to pull her off. ".. Shards, can you give it a rest? For -five- minutes?" Most likely a futile question but worth asking all the same. You never know unless you try! And Faranth knows what J'en and V'nyk must have thought of her now, because she was at the point of being too embarrassed to even look back in their direction, even moreso at the prospect of being used in some cruel procreation experiment. However, her little green firelizard, Petite, just sits there and watches the situation unfold, staring with slow green eyes as Rulayn promptly plants her forehead against the surface of the table and cover her head with her arms. Someone, anyone, save her.

There's no help here, Rulayn. NOBODY WILL HEAR YOU SCREAM. There is only Lei'ero, and one broody bronzerider, and one greenrider that is entirely too enthused and quick to deny the baby making. Really, even as Rulayn pulls her off, Leimna howls with laughter and willingly lets go, stumbling to sit in a sit which she pulls up right alongside Roo. Elbow goes to table, chin goes to hand, and she gently nudges the other candidate with a companionable shoulder-bump - even if that smile on her face screams TROUBLETROUBLETROUBLE. "Lighten up, Rulayn. His friend Jae there wants to give you babies." All for which there is another giggle and then a clearing of her throat as she redirects her gaze. FINE, J'EN. You work on getting drunk, Leia is just going to barter with V'nyk on how much those babies are worth. HAND SLAP HAND SLAP on the table and she affects her most YOU ALL BORE ME expression (bordering on J'en's, except that there's some kind of INTENSE DISTASTE in hers) as she lifts her chin and exercises arrogance to the HIGHEST OF LEADERSHIP DEGREES. "Five marks and a bottle of Benden wine, and I will accept your apology. And five hundred babies."

One has to wonder if J'en ever had manners really, not even having the courtesy to check out all that fine ass served up to him on a silver platter. He doesn't applaud the The'ero imposter either, far more concerned in getting to the bottom of his beer so he can start in on another, tipping it back again and draining it some more. The bronzerider snort, "Fuck ya," he says for the offer of sleeping with whatever that was, without any change in his demeanor, still sitting back in his chair, still with his booted ankles crossed on top of the table, and still not looking at Leimna. Of course, that doesn't stop the greenrider from taking the joke even further by offering him up like some sacrificial lamb, and oddly J'en doesn't have much of a reaction for that. In fact, he has none. He looks briefly to V'nyk only after glancing at the devastation left in the wake of the false-Th'ero, that being Rulayn before Leimna slaps her hands on the table and starts to negotiate for his children. "Mah dick ain't for sale…" he says, cold and flat, golden eyes sliding down to her shoulder where her simple white knot is pinned to her shoulder. "…candidate." Back up his gaze slides, this time to hers as he tips that bottle back and drinks down about half of what's left. Swallowing.

V'nyk is having trouble containing the laughter that's trying to crawl out of him. He shakes his head just a bit though when the negotiating starts, waving his hand in J'en's direction when the bronzerider speaks up for himself. "Well /there/ you have it. Sorry there, bushy-face, but I'd have to agree. I mean, that's asking for a /lot/ of babies. You'd wear him out! And I still wanna have fun with him, so I'm afraid there'll be no deal here. …Seriously though, doesn't that itch? Your face, I mean. It just..like../looks/ super..agh." There's a reflexive bit of scratching at his own jaw before V'nyk takes another sip from his drink, glancing at J'en again with a faint grin. Nope, all that coldness just isn't having any effect. V'nyk will exude enough sunshine for the /both/ of them. But he turns back to the ladies again, head tilting. "By the way, I think your friend is like..melting or something. She'll be under the table in a puddle soon if you keep on her like that."

The laughter is just too much for poor Roo, who keeps her head down the entire time even once released. As Leimna drops into another seat, Petite crawls along the table and promptly lifts her tiny green head to stare at the bearded woman. What a strange foodthing! "I don't want babies. I'm a Candidate. I follow the rules." There's hardly any enthusiasm in her voice, but for whatever reason she just sounds so.. Defeated by this whole mess! "Take your five marks and bottle of wine and just go sit over with them instead. Leave me alone." So harsh. But poor Rulayn just doesn't have the patience for this type of insanity. In fact, whether or not Leimna moves, Rulayn does. She scoops herself up from the chair, shoulders slumped and head hanging low as if she were walking to the gallows. And off she goes, to hide at the bar. Or get a cold drink. Maybe the bartender had earplugs?

CANDIDATE? If J'en's chilly demeanor and astute powers of observation stun, or amaze, or MAKE LEIA WANT TO COWER, it doesn't show; quite the contrary, the candidate looks all the more mischievous and then holds up one hand as if to silence J'en. "Silence, commoner. The grown-ups are talking." Which is when she gestures between herself, and V'nyk, and V'nyk BETRAYS HER and if Leimna's eyes could ROLL ANY HARDER, they'd be on their way to Half Moon Bay Weyr. "You, good sir, don't know the meaning of fun." And NORMALLY she would be over on Ven, rubbing her faux bristles on his face to show him how ITCHY IT IS, but she respects the distance between them for some reason - for now. Up goes Roo, with her harsh commentary, and you would think that Leia would have the grace to look remotely apologetic, but she doesn't. She watches Rulayn go and then calls out, "GOOD THINKING. DRINK LOTS OF WATER - YOU'RE GONNA NEED IT." For that baby making. But she doesn't join the dragonriders either. She sits there. In her oddness, watching people with a smile that seems to say she's unbothered by her ability to repel.

J'en just looks bored, with everything. After denying Lei-Th'ero his babymaker, he goes back to drinking in relative silence, finishing up his first beer and quickly popping the top off another that the serving wench brings before whisking away the empty. There is another beverage similarly deposited for V'nyk as well, even if he hasn't even polished off the one he already had. Golden eyes follow Rulayn's progression from table to bar, mostly because she's pure motion, and then off it goes again as she tosses herself down. "Do somethin' about it, or shut the fuck up." he says, the thickly frozen words skating across the floor to thump against the stool containing the mournful candidate. While the words might of sounded irritated considering their arrangement, the delivery leaves them flaccid and lacking enthusiasm. He's soon coolly regarding Lei-Th'ero though, when she addresses him again directly. He bides his time, doing a decent job looking through her rather than at her before taking another sip of his drink before forming ice paved words to slide across the floor and thump against the leg of her chair, "What ya are, is a candidate. A Representative of Fort Weyr. The way yer dressed, is disrespectful. To that weyr and it's weyrleader. The way ya talk to representatives from another weyr, is disrespectful. Both, could get yer ass kicked out of candidacy. Probably the worst thing about ya though, is the way ya treat yer fellow candidates. Ya fuck with 'em too much, ain't none of 'em gunna have yer back when ya need 'em." With a shrug, Jae's gaze wanders off, going back to drinking his beer and ignoring everyone, even his greenrider companion.

Yep, V'nyk is gonna need that second drink. He hurries along with the first when chilly words start flying about, quick to grab at that new one. There's even a faint wince for the things being said, though the greenrider does tilt his head, glancing back and forth between his friend and the two candidates, even as Rulayn branches off to go to the bar. "Delivery leaves something to be desired, I think, but he's not /wrong/, ya know." On either count, it seems. Nyk sets his drink down after a good gulp is taken from it, relaxing utterly back into his seat. Lashes lower, looking quite entirely content and comfortable..at least for now. "I don't know you guys or anything, so I can't say much about whatever..weird sort of relationship you have. For all I know it's a thing you two do, but she doesn't look too happy about it all." One finger points in the direction of the bar and Rulayn, brows lifting ever so slightly. Then the digit wiggles just a bit, slowly arrowing in on the bearded one. "/And/ you are sorely mistaken..thinking I don't know fun. I know /so/ much fun. Just not in the..dressing up department. Or sticking hair to my face."

Vossrik's entrance had no fanfare, slinking as he is into the heart of Shenanigans, but that changes: even as he quietly pulls out a chair and oozes into it with all the emoted exhaustion his lil candidate heart can muster, he freezes. Wide blue eyes go wider still at the tableau in front of him. Naturally, one of those lulls in crowd-noise comes just as he opens his mouth and exclaims for Faranth and all of Pern to hear, "OH SNAP!"

A serving of ice-cold water is plenty enough to keep Rulayn from going insane for now, and once she's handed her drink she slowly turns back to the trio, walking a few paces away from the bar so that firstly she doesn't have to shout, and secondly so she can hear the comments directed at herself. "Stand up for myself?" The Bronzerider is given a long, hard stare as if trying to deduce some kind of hidden meaning in his words. "If you mean punching her in the jaw - while I'd love to - I'm not going to compromise my position." And she pauses, to sip from her drink, looking to the source of the familiar voice coming from a nearby chair. Vossirk! He's okay. He gets a genuine smile and a wave from this candidate, but quickly Rulayn is back to handling the issue before her. Directing her attention to Leimna, Rulayn nods in agreement. "He understands. You really shouldn't dress like the Weyrleader, no matter how much you love him. And-.." She pauses, raising a single finger. ".. You really shouldn't be sticking Vossrik's pubes to your face.

"Wait, what?! Those ain't my…" A quick pat-down and whatever Vossrik feels or doesn't feel seems to satisfy his brief concern. "Those ain't my pubics."

Oh, J'en. Sweet J'en. Leimna applies faux doe eyes that don't say, 'I understand,' but give the effect of a rather sarcastic, 'Whatever do you mean, sir?' and just before she can open her mouth, it happens. Risali, to be exact. Risali happens, and the tiny harper's indignant fury is enough to have Leia clamping down on her bottom lip. Especially when she grabs some poor random patrons drink and descends upon V'nyk and J'en's table - only too throw the drink in the bronzerider's face. BETTER DUCK! Not that that's going to do you much good, given physics and what goes up must come down. Not the glass, mind, simply the liquid inside. She slams it down on the table, followed shortly by her hands as she leans forward much too close to the rider. "What would you know about respect or how to treat people?" Risali's voice is oozing venom, and she doesn't cow away from anything, even though she too is nothing more than a guest in Fort. "You are a guest in this weyr; you don't get to lecture its candidates, and you want your former Weyrleader to rot. Save the high-and-mighty act for somebody else, J'en. Nobody here is buying it." And then she turns, a flurry of dark hair and rage and fixes grey eyes onto Leia as she storms the older woman and pulls her up by one arm. Leia's too stunned to protest and gains her feet, blinking. "You look ridiculous, but it annoys J'en, so keep wearing it." Cue a look for both Vossrik and Rulayn that ends with a tick of her jaw. She says nothing, but the implication is there: cowards. And Leia is dragged out, blinking blue eyes on the hell of one furious little woman.

Then, a whispered, "Double snap!" from Vossrik's position.

The bronzerider's oddly hued gaze tracks back to Rulayn, "Dun recommend hittin' her, but if ya feel harassed what's stoppin' ya from makin' a formal complaint?" Not waiting for the response, J'en turns his attention back to Leimna with but passing interest in Vossrik, perhaps even have forgotten he'd lip planted on the older boy only a few hours ago. Before he can respond to all that sarcastic doe-eyeballing, enter Risali stage right. He sees her grab the drink and it was impossible to misread an angry woman with a beverage in her hand, so when she goes to toss it in his face he's up on his feet and grabbing a firm hold of the woman's wrist. "That's enough." Icicles hanging from every syllable as the glass's contents slosh over and spills left and right, forcing her to empty it on the floor rather than on him. "Ya ain't any less a guest here, Risa." He won't wrestle the thing out of her hand, but he'll hold her there for as long as he has to in order to get his point across. "Yer father fuckin' took R'hyn from meh. He let me think he was mah friend, that he was tryin' to help meh, then stuck a fuckin' knife in mah back. I TRUSTED him. So yeah, I want 'im to rot hell…the hell that comes from knowin' he was the one who broke meh especially considerin' he spent a great deal of time spoutin' all kinds of shit about makin' mahself whole. Dun mean I want 'im dead, dun mean I dun want 'im back at Half Moon where he belongs. I want him to see what he did and I want him to feel fuckin' sick with guilt about it. Him AND that fucktard he'll no doubt weyrmate the fuckin' second he's back. So cut the shit, I ain't yer enemy." With that, he takes the glass out of her hand with his free one, gently at that, and sets it on the table. Just as calmly as he stood and spoke, he sits back down and picks up his beer, taking a very healthy sip of it, because he really fucking needed it right now.

For once, V'nyk is totally silent. What exactly /can/ he do when there's a super angry Risali there again, and J'en is up on his feet? At least there's no /actual/ violence happening due to it all. But the greenrider does hold his breath, looking fairly much like he might suffocate the longer Jae growls on. And then? It's over. Hopefully. He promptly exhales and sucks in another breath rather loudly, then just pushes the rest of his drink in his friend's direction. He can have /all/ the alcohol he needs. Though there's a small tilt of his head, brows lifting ever so slightly at the bronzerider. "We could head home, you know."

Vossrik just needs to install some kind of, like, ball bearing swivel on his neck at this point because he is going to sprain a muscle at this point with all the looking back and forth incredulously. "Ummmmm," he drawls intelligently, sliding until he's sitting fully. Rulayn's greeting gets returned with a wave of his own, and an exaggerated mouthing of: "Whaaaaaat?"

Heading home does sound like a good idea. Or, in Rulayn's case, the Barracks. With some luck she'll get there before Leimna does, and be able to bury her head beneath a pillow again. Arm outstretched, Petite takes wing from her resting spot and lands neatly upon the young woman's limb, crawling along her shoulder and then promptly burrowing her way down the front of her tunic. Rulayn seems accustomed to this though, for she merely watches the exchange between J'en and Risali in a somewhat stunned silence until the glass is finally wrestled from the woman's grip and the tension of the situation begins to loosen. This Risali woman had a lot of pent up anger! Not moving, nor risking breathing until both she and Leimna had left, the dragonhealer eventually lets out a long sigh, accompanied by a frown. "Do formal complaints ever work? I'd have thought you'd use plenty of those against her." Rulayn finally responds to J'en, nodding in the direction of the doorway as she finally starts to move. She drains the rest of her glass and in passing, rests it upon the far end of the two riders' table, looking between them. V'nyk is given a small and friendly smile, while J'en is just given.. A look. "Thanks for the advice, though." And with a small waves she makes her way towards the exit, again pausing to look at Vossrik. "By the way, Leimna intends on sleeping naked with a bow tied around her tonight. In your bed." And that's all the warning he's given as she jams hands into pockets and strolls out of the Lounge.

OKAY SO, Risali gets a little foiled there - but it doesn't matter. Risali is used to making mistakes, and getting too close to the bronzerider is clearly one of them. Just to add to that sloshing-dripping this drink was never ours to spill in the first place mess, Risali is testing the restraints of J'en's hand on her wrist and the fact that her struggles prove futile seem only to spur her anger, not quell it. She isn't afraid of him, even when it's made perfectly clear that he's the stronger of the two (which could arguably stupid and not brave), and when escape isn't an option, she merely spits scathing words meant to do the damage she physically can't. "I'm not lecturing their candidates, and I couldn't care less about the fact that my father - who is twice the man you will ever be — stole that obnoxiously tall idiot from you." Really. Her last interaction with R'hyn was her chucking a box full of bubbly at his precious face and putting him in a headlock - it didn't end well, for either of them. "Maybe if you spent a little more time on getting a personality that wasn't hypocritical fuck you and fuck this and generally unpleasant, you'd be able to find somebody that actually cares enough to stick around." Luckly, all of the contents of that glass didn't spill out, and when J'en sets it on the table, Risa grabs it and brings it to her lips while she takes one, two, three steps back. Pause. "And I think your friend here is right. You should leave." She would fling the rest of the drink on him, but… well… it's actually good, and that would be a waste of a perfectly good drink. Leia's long gone, though. Precious thing. Probably to get naked and tie a bow and sit on Voss' bed.

Unfortunately, whatever damage that Risali was looking to do, doesn't seem to have any effect. J'en just stands there and lets her say whatever she likes, and there isn't even so much as a twitch of hurt to show for it. As smooth and emotionless as his expression was upon her entering, it remains even with the poison tipped ire she was attempting to stab through his chest, "Ya may not like the way I talk Risali, but I dun think ya got much right to be pointin' fingers when it comes to bein' unpleasent." Apparently he was letting the whole comment about Ila'den being twice the man he was go, at least for now, probably because she just keeps the insult flying as if trying to find some nonexistent chink in his armor. "Yer lettin' yer hurt turn ya into the kind of person that wants to HURT other people." Another sip from his beer is taken, shaking his head with a long look given to V'nyk. No, he didn't want to leave, maybe because he didn't want Risali to feel like she's won something, or maybe he wasn't so easily intimidated either. Eyes of gold return then to Ila'den's daughter, merely nodding once for the thanks that Rulayn offers him, but not giving thought to anyting else. Even pretty pretty Vossryk and tales of naked girls tied with bows awaiting him in his bed, fail to distract him. "I've done everythin' I can to help 'im without getting mahself into serious trouble with the weyrleadership, including lettin' Taeski go lookin'." Lashes lower, and the sixteen turn old's chin gently lifts, "Not that ya 'care' and all…but I ain't done shit to ya or yer father to earn the kinda poison yer spoutin', but he's done plenty to get a drop or two in the heat of the moment. Ya want to hold that against meh for the rest of mah life, that's up to ya." Shrugging his shoulders, he leans against the back of the chair again, beer bottle to lips and lets his gaze fall away.

It's so true! Vossrik IS pretty! But not, however, as pretty as the wee firelizard that now commands his attention by sliding out of his shirt and derping her way onto the table in front of her. "Well good morning sleepy-head! Who's the only girl I want in my bed, it's YOU! Yes it IS!" Aforementioned 'lizard sighs and rolls over onto her back, legs and wings akimbo, belly in the air to receive the inevitable series of scratches and a single noisy zerbert. "Who's a widdle bay-bay, it's YOU!"

It's as simple as that. A brief exchange of a look and headshake, and the two Half Moon riders are sticking around. V'nyk gives a mild shrug, relenting to it all, and settles back into his chair again. See? He's trying to get comfortable, although he rather quietly asks for something non-alcoholic when that nice lady comes back around again. As for Rulayn leaving? There's a smile for her and fingers waved for her departure. /Everything is fine here/. Whatever the greenrider /might/ want to say about bow-wearing naked girls..well. He just doesn't. At least not at first. He waits for a bit, still looking back and forth between J'en and Risali before finally, and rather suddenly clapping his hands together. "/Well./ That was exciting. Like…I mean..seriously, my heart was in my throat and about to pop on out kind of excitement. Which is great and all, but the whole drinking time is meant for /relaxing/, yeah? Yeah? /Right./ SoOh thank you!" His new drink has arrived! There's a bit of sipping done at it, but his attention focuses back onto Risali again, with a smile. "Well /I/ for one haven't left him yet, so he can't be doing everything wrong, now can he? Oh sure, he's a bit rough around the..um..everything, but some people just are. And I /know/ you're madand please don't thrown anything at me—like..mad for all sorts of reasons, not just at him for all of his..wordiness. But you do know we're still looking, right? I'm not..not at the moment, but I was relieved and someone else took my place. We're going to find him. All of them, just so you know that. I think the best thing you could do is get some sleep, because that tends to help with the being super angry and throwing things department.." Yep. There he goes.

It's true, Risali doesn't have any right to make judgements or preach about pleasantries when she falls short of them almost every time - almost. There is something that changes, however, the longer that J'en speaks, the more he explains, and when V'nyk cuts in as well, those grey eyes shift to him and hold, watching the greenrider as tears inexplicably - no. Risa wipes them away, and breathes, "I know," to him, preceded by a soft, completely void of malice, "Now please shut up." And then her eyes are on J'en. The drink in her hands is left on the table and suddenly those tiny hands go up in the air, as if in surrender. 'I'm not a threat,' they say, and despite the tensions in her posture from getting closer to the bronzerider, she's relaxed. "And I didn't mean it." Hands drop to her sides, but she holds J'en's gaze for as long as he holds hers - longer, if he looks away. "You are a good man, you deserve that dragon, and you deserve to be happy." Her movements are slow, giving J'en enough time to catch her hands if he doesn't want her to touch him; if he does allow the contact, she will cup his face in her hands and turn his face up to hers as she leans in and maybe cries on him but only because she doesn't have hands to stop the tears from too much emotion and exhaustion and missing too many people for her to breathe. "Please be careful." And she means it, saying it even if he doesn't let her touch him. She's unaffected if he remains stoically icy as well; perhaps, just now, it's not him she's crying for. And then her eyes are on V'nyk. "And you," she whispers to the greenie. And now she's stepping back from both of them as grey eyes go to Vossrik and settle, looking like she wants to say something and opting out of it. PRECIOUS RED FRUIT CINNAMON ROLL. Maybe she thinks you're cute! Doesn't matter. She'll let J'en keep the higher ground because he's doing more to find her father than she can, and that's worth leaving Shenanigans so he can drink in peace.

Why does V'nyk stick with J'en? He doesn't know, even though he's probably asked the greenrider countless times between bouts of seriously trying to chase the poor guy off completely and ultimately, ineffectively. He does look the younger boy's way when he speaks, having nothing to add to all that. Briefly he observes Vossrik and his new firelizard, but the moment that Risali's sour mood breaks she has the entirety of his attention. Nary an expression to speak of, when he's told to shut up he was already quiet, lifting his eyes back up to meet hers. It could be the whiplash from the sudden change in demeanor of the once very angry woman that allows her to cup his face of all things and turn it upwards to better suit gazing long into each other. There are no tears from the bronzerider, there is no anything, other than the hand that comes up and around to gently rub up and down her back as she weeps on him in the wake of everything. There is no recoil or stiffening of his shoulders, still utterly and completely relaxed and offering decidedly chilly comfort to her woes. He murmurs something softly into her ear, giving her a one armed hug of all things before he releases her entirely. As she addresses V'nyk and then heads out past Vossnyk and his belly exposed 'lizard, "Clear skies, Risa." Icy is as icy does, but there was no malice there, soon turning back to the greenrider beside him and letting out a shaking breath only once she had left the bar completely. "Please get meh the fuck out of here." Unsteady, unstoic, uneven and on the verge of letting the mask slip, the Seamount rider grasps the hem of his companion's flight jacket and leans slightly against him.

None of this really involves Vossrik, or, rather, he's very intent on keeping from being involved. Someone's brought him some chopped steak to feed his wee and overpampered companion. The stream of babble continues unabated, and the waistline of the teensy green expands with every tidbit that gets stuffed into her little face. That's about it. He's pretty boring, on the whole.

V'nyk doesn't move at all when Risali goes and leans right into J'en. There's a brief moment where there's a wonder if the bronzerider will react…badly to it. When he doesn't though, there's a soft smile, and a faint breath being let out for it all. There's a nod though, when the girl rises again. He's certainly keen on being careful where renegades might be involved. He lifts a hand though a bit in a friendly enough wave when she makes to depart, gaze sliding right over to J'en to check on him. Brows furrow just a little bit, but the expression falls away, instead giving him a gentle pat on the arm as he climbs out of his chair. "Alright, you! Been enough ruckus around here for one day, don't you think? Come on, now. Off we go. /You/ of all people also need a bit of sleep in you." Because /surely/ it wasn't J'en who was asking to get out. Of course not. The greenrider simply tugs Jae right on up out of his seat before ushering him toward the door. "You good to ride on your own or you wanna sit with me?"

"I can fly." J'en says softly, voice cracking. He's easily pulled out of the bar, paying no mind at all to the returning Leimna or canoodling Vossrik. He seems fairly bound and determined to get out of there before he loses his cool even if golden eyes were already welling up. He's muttering something under his breath that sounds distinctly like, "Fuck this shit." Jamming the heel of his palm against his face, he uses the other to thrust the door open without a care as to whom he might bean in the face with it, and he's gone into the rapidly approaching evening taking V'nyk with him.

VOSSRIK IS NOT BORING; and anyway, this is his business (not like that guys GOSH). Leia's a flurry of still unshed Weyrleader mimicry as she bounds back into Shenanigans - but with a little less pep in her step this time. The two stranger-danger riders? Ignored, and right over to Vossrik Leia goes. She pulls up a chair, and settles into it, and then pulls her knees up to her chest and leans sideways until she's shoulder-to-shoulder with the smith in a companionable kind of closeness. "What did I miss?"

"Duuuuude, I got this little thing!" Vossrik enthuses, jazz-handing in his green's direction. "Look at how TINY she is! She's like… like I'm afraid I'm gonna straight up INHALE her!" The jazz-hands wiggle. "Don't suppose you got any ideas for, like, a name? I can't think of one. Never been too good at naming stuff. Well, okay, that's not totally true. My big hammer — the one that don't fit into my tool box and so it's gotta go in a belt loop? That's Lord Bonko."

That someone who gets a face full of door, is Xhanfyr. SMACK. He's there and he's gone as the door bounces off his face and then swings back to close. Ignore the cry of pain and the whimper that follows, J'en probably does. Sadly this means that he also misses the opportunity to oggle V'nyk in the process, far too busy crouched on the ground holding his head. He stays down there a while, perhaps trying to peice together just what in the world he might of done in his life to deserve such agony, but at some point he does force himself up to his feet unsteadily and wobble his way into Shenanigan's. Still holding the right side of his face, he immediately stops upon seeing Leimna and Vossrik, staring for way longer than he really should before dropping his eyes to the floor. A sharp inhale later, he throws on a wide lopsided grin and invites himself over, sitting across from them both. "When did you get a firelizard, Voss?" he asks, letting his hand fall away and into his lap with the other, leaning over the table and admiring the little darling.

Oh, Faranth, but she is cute; that doesn't stop Leia from being, well… Leia, and as Vossrik mentions hammers too big for belt loops named Lord Bonko? Well. She grabs hold of one of the smith's arms to use as an anchor and leans down to address his lap. "Well met, Lord Bonko." NO SHAME. What even is it. And she's laughing as she rights herself against and blue eyes fix on the green as she thinks and thinks and, "Deathwing. Make her feel fierce. Women like it when they feel more vicious than they are." DON'T THEY. Don't really name her that, it's a terrible name. "Did you think of any - oh, Faranth. Xhan, are you okay?" She didn't miss the door debacle, or the lingering look, or ANY OF IT. There's a moment, and then she blinks at Vossrik before she scoots her chair a full inch to the right. It doesn't matter, she's off her feet and making her way towards the bar. "I'll get you some ice, sit tight."

Vossrik makes a total >:I face. "I got her a few days ago, Xhan, and could you NOT, Leimna? That's not Lord Bonko." Whether or not it has its own name is up for interpretation, but the green is the focus of naming right now. "Death… wing? I'm not sure if that's, er, entirely appropriate." To wit, the green rolls over again and belches, snorting out a small cloud of smoke and then closing her lids over her slowly spinning eyes to nap with the world's smuggest and tiniest dragon-grin. "Xhan, you got ideas?"

Unable to help it, the Beastcrafter flushes as Leimna leans over Vossrik's lap, shifting uncomfortably and sending his intruding gaze elsewhere. That light fixture, man, its bright and yet dark. A contrast if you will. Though, the scrape of chair across the floor begrudgingly brings his attention back, just in time for Leia to…care? Almond-shaped eyes widen, for all of a second, before Xhanfyr winces and makes a soft sound of pain. Hand flies up to his face, which was already swelling and would leave him with a nice shinner for a while. "N-n-no…it's-it's ok-okay." He really does try, but she's already up and getting ice. Heavily sighing, he slides his one good eye towards the firelizard, "Puff?" Yeah, he's not very inventive now is he? Deathwing was probably the better choice.

Leimna could not do the thing - but where's the fun in that? Hence the laughter; but the candidate is at the bar now, waiting for ice, taking the proffered cup that it comes in and picking up a cloth with a word of thanks before making her way back to the boys. Into her seat she goes, placing several pieces of ice into the cloth before tying it and handing it over to Xhan. She pushes the remaining ice towards him too. "What about Smaug? Or… Dragon. Then she will feel like she fits right in and isn't so tiny after all." Leia isn't up-to-par on the cutesy girl names. "Or Tink." BECAUSE WHY NOT. "Tinkerbell. Or something you really love as a smith? A metal, a tool, a -" Pause, LEAN. Look at that smile. "Whatever it is that you beat with Lord Bonko." So out of line.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmetal?" Leimna gets a look as if she's on fire — about par for the course from Vossrik — and, turning, he starts to question Xhanfyr. "Puff? What does tha… holy frick! What happened to your FACE, dude!" He points dramatically at the shiner, and the nameless little firelizard snaps at a finger as it swipes past her face. "Jeez, were you in a fight? Do I gotta lay someone out for you?"

Xhanfyr can't help but stare again, this time at Leimna, and he wasn't bothering to try and hide it. He keeps right on staring, the color in his cheeks fading back to his naturally pale tone by the time she retakes her seat and is sliding the cloth wrapped ice his direction, "Why're you being so nice to me?" he asks, the look on his face one of absolute confusion as he gingerly takes the cold pack and oh so carefully lowers it over the swelling. There's another wince, but this time not because his face hurt. "I mean…thank…you?" Apologetic and maybe even a little guilty expression passes over the Beastcrafter's features, chewing on his bottom lip, soon murmuring. "That jerk bronzerider from Half Moon hit me with the door as he was leaving." Didn't even say sorry. Hmmf.

Why is she being nice? Leimna looks positively boggled by that question - really and truly. "Why am I being nice? When have I ever been mean to you?" and it's not said with any of her usual mischief, of feigned doe-eyes, but pure, brow-furrowing 'I don't have a mean bone in my body because if I did you would know it' confusion. But her eyes are back on Vossrik for his METAL and then she leans to shoulder-bonk him before leaning back into her own space again. "Why don't you give her time to warm up to a name?" A pause, and then eyes flicker to Xhan. She doesn't say anything about the Half Moonian riders - jerk pretty much sums it nicely.

Even as he resumes his lizard-petting (phrasing!), Vossrik leans to squint at Xhanfyr's face. "Were you leaning down so the knob was in your face?" Phrasing! "Because that looks ugly. Rider or no, he shoulda given you an apology. Even if he was… what was happening in here? I wasn't paying attention. I mean LOOK AT HER! Who the heck allowed these things to be so… so… so like THAT!" More jazz-hands are applied to the situation AS THEY SHOULD BE. "Yeah, Leimna's harmless. Y'know, dead animals and all."

"Pretty sure making me as uncomfortable as possible whenever possible and enjoying it qualifies as being mean." Xhanfyr mumbles, scrunching his shoulders some, and dropping his eyes to his lap. He figits with the wrinkles his trousers provide him with the hand not currently holding the icepack to his face. He leans back and away from Vossrik's peering, that flush returning in earnest. Still not looking up, nuh uh. "No." he says softly, "I was reaching for the door and he flung open in my face." Only once the Smithcrafter was back to jazz-handing his newest acquisition, does he finally drift back to a proper seated position on the edge of his chair.

You're going to have to give Leimna a minute to process what Xhan's just said - maybe longer, if the look the inexplicably blank expression on her face is anything to go by. Blue eyes flicker to Vossrik, and every expression is suddenly muted. Sure, she's smiling, but it seems more forced than normal, and the mischievousness is absent. "Well," she says softly, and then up to her feet she goes. "I wouldn't want to make either of you gentlemen uncomfortable." A pause, as she rises and then, "Goodluck with the name, Vossrik." No Red Fruit. "Have a good night." And there she goes! Smile still in place.

"Aww, jeez. You two really need to talk some stuff out, possibly maybe. Leimna, come back…" But it's too late, and Vossrik's call ends up heard only by the door. "Craaaap. Hey, she's not so bad, Xhan'. I think she's got, like, maybe a past? Like us? I mean, I'm assuming you got one. You seem closed off like that sometimes, y'know? And, like, I think she maybe possibly does the weirdo snake-corpse hair-licking laundry-stealing thing as whassitcalled." Squinting, he looks at the ceiling to think, snapping his fingers as if it will help jumpstart his memory (which rouses the green enough to have her grumbling at the sharp reports). "Oh, sorry baby. Um, defense mechanism! That's the one! Like, y'know, I do it too. Or did. I'm tryin' not to." Scooping up the grumbly little firelizard, Voss seats it in his hand to face Xhanfyr and adopts a falsetto, using his fingers to manipulate the green's forelegs in puppety little gestures. "C'moooon, uncle Xhan! We aren't so baaaad!"

That, was not the reaction that Xhanfyr was expecting, if he was expecting one at all because as Leimna goes quiet he oh so very slowly lifts his head upwards and peeks up over his own brow ridge. BLINK! He gapes a little bit, mouth flapping and making sounds that have no structure, and she's gone before he can manage to gather his wits about him, if he ever had them to begin with. His eyes dart immediately to Vossrik, apology there, above all. Yes, there's the guilt, brows furrowing and he finds some other place to settle his gaze upon. Anywhere but the firelizard puppeteering Smithcrafter. Lips are soon pressed into the thinnest of lines, nostrils flaring as he inhales and he can only shake his head a little back and forth. "She tortures you, Voss." he finally manages to cobble together, looking back to the older boy with a mixture of confusion, irritation, and something else he quickly tucks away where prying eyes can't see. "This is the first time I've seen her acting like a normal person, and probably only because her friends weren't here to show off for." Another breath is taken, opening his mouth, but Vossrik goes on and slowly his brows drift upwards to half disappear beneath his bangs. Suddenly he's leaning forward and hissing something across the table at the poor guy, a flash of genuine anger responsible this time for the color that blushes his cheeks a rosy hue. He clams up pretty quickly after that though, thumping back against his chair after tossing the icepack he'd been gifted down on the table and crossing his arms over his chest. He'll now righteously glare at the exact spot that nasty bronzerider from earlier was all smooth operator and cool cucumber. Jerk. Clearly, this was all J'en's fault, or something equally teenage angst driven.

The Teeny Living Puppet is made to shrug, though the illusion (if you can call it that) of her moving herself is somewhat less effective when she nods off, her head lolling until it wrests on Vossrik's wrist. "Can't say I understand it either, man. But, like, we all handle stuff different. You get all quiet, I didn't start laughing until recently, she… um… acts like she oughta be put in one of them jackets with the buckles and stuff! Believe me, it ain't the dumbest thing I've seen a person do for attention. This dude, back at the crafthall? He would eat trash. Literal trash. And once he pounded a nail into some wood with his forehead." There's a long pause, then, and Vossrik tips his head to listen to whispering from his fellow candidate. His reaction is a paling face and widening eyes, then a blurted: "Yeesh, you too, huh? With the crazy dads. So um… A'ster found out, and I'm gonna tell you 'cause I haven't told nobody else, but it's not like a secret-secret and it ain't gonna get me kicked out. Y'knowwww several turns back, when someone lit the hatching cavern on fire? Then exploded themselves? Well, I assure you it ain't hereditary, but my dad had some weird reactions to things. You're safe now, yeah? Like can I DO anything to make sure you won't be hurt or taken off or nothing? They're real understanding here and won't blame you or nothin'."

Paling is the most appropriate reaction for what Xhanfyr had to say to Vossrik across that table, but now he can't look at him. There was the shame and the guilt and all the things. All of them. Whatever anger he'd had, wasn't for the smithy, but rather perhaps the subject of whatever had been so heatedly hissed. The blurted words aren't enough to draw Xhan back into the conversation, arms still crossed and still pissed at that empty chair across the room. However, at mention of A'ster's name, the fire that was stoked begins to smolder into embers and the Beastcrafter candidate's eyes dart back to the boy across the table from him. "A'ster knows about all of it…" he says quietly, "About me, I mean. Too, I guess." Though he does appear to be confused again, teeth generously applied to his bottom lip. "Your dad did what?" he asks, apparently not having heard, but then again he's spent most of his time not ninja training at the Beastcraft Hall out in the Fortian woodlands. Away from most people, surrounded by his runners. Hense the lack of social skills, perhaps. As for his safety, Xhan can only shrug. "I don't think he'd hurt ME…" Maybe the people he cares about? Hmmm. Food for thought. He laughs softly, seeming to dwell on that thought, but it wasn't exactly in real humor. "Guess that's a good reason to stay away from me, huh?"

Paling is the most appropriate reaction for what Xhanfyr had to say to Vossrik across that table, but now he can't look at him. There was the shame and the guilt and all the things. All of them. Whatever anger he'd had, wasn't for the smithy, but rather perhaps the subject of whatever had been so heatedly hissed. The blurted words aren't enough to draw Xhan back into the conversation, arms still crossed and still pissed at that empty chair across the room. However, at mention of A'ster's name, the fire that was stoked begins to smolder into embers and the Beastcrafter candidate's eyes dart back to the boy across the table from him. "A'ster knows about all of it…" he says quietly, "About me, I mean. Too, I guess." Though he does appear to be confused again, teeth generously applied to his bottom lip. "Your dad did what?" he asks, apparently not having heard, but then again he's spent most of his time not ninja training at the Beastcraft Hall out in the Fortian woodlands. Away from most people, surrounded by his runners. Hence the lack of social skills, perhaps. As for his safety, Xhan can only shrug. "I don't think he'd hurt ME…" Maybe the people he cares about? Hmmm. Food for thought. He laughs softly, seeming to dwell on that thought, but it wasn't exactly in real humor. "Guess that's a good enough reason to stay away from me, huh?" A pause for that, letting it sink in, and he suddenly looks absolutely devastated for a split second, before he tucks it away with other feelings he didn't want to show, and instead distracts them both by pointing awkwardly at the firelizard that was passed out and dangling. "Y-You might want to put her down now." Down those eyes go, and he makes to pick up the icepack again. Stops. Reaches futher. Stops again, and then finally drags it back toward him with little enthusiasm.

"Pffff, nah. Better reason to be your friend. I mean, if we can't stick together in our mutual family weirdnesses… I mean, this is going to sound weird, but I'm glad it isn't just me, y'know?" To buy himself some time, Vossrik gently shoves the snoozing green back into his shirt and jostles her around to settle her. "Like we're not alone now, yeah? It helps me at least. You're a good friend, and like the only person other'n A'ster who knows my business. That's 'cause I trust you, and that isn't gonna stop, alright?"

Mutual family…weirdness? Xhanfyr lifts his head and blinks across the table, that icepack making very slow progress back up to the now discolored swelling around the outer half of his right eye. Blink. "He kills people, Voss." he clarifies without lowering his voice, then winces and leans foward enough to make the next few words more conspiring, "I'm the son of a sharding murderer, how can you possibly be glad about that?" No, Xhan doesn't get it. "I'm scared of me." This is breathed before he thumps back against his chair and pulls a leg up against his chest, letting his boot prop on the edge of his seat. His attention drifts off as the smith tucks the unconscious firelizard away, if only to wander back as the older boy starts chatting again. Another blink. "Why? What makes you so sure that you can trust me?" he asks, oh so filled with all the doubts that what he'd recently discovered about himself would naturally bring. A'ster he could understand, sort of, but a renegade bred and trained would-be assassin? Harder to swallow. A sigh follows quickly enough, fixing his eyes on his own knee when he's called a good friend. More doubt.

Vossrik shrugs diffidently and tries out a smile that, while not BRIMMING with it, is at least teased at the edges with burgeoning self confidence. "Ain't like YOU did it. And my dad tried to do murder, y'know? Tried to kill a buncha dragons, tried to take a buncha riders out with him. And I've been doing a lotta thinking and realized that I can't keep beating myself up for my whole dang life about something like that. Neither can you." A snore escapes the area around his midsection and his nose crinkles with a laugh. "She snores like my brother, I swear. But yeah, like, you're a good dude. Like, do you trust ME even though my dad totally went all fire-crazy? That was his decision, not mine, man. You can't and couldn't control your pop either. They are slash were adults."

"Well, no. Not, people…anyway." Xhan replies to his knee. Hunting didn't count as murder right. "I think the operative word there is is tried. According to my da, he's been very successfully doing it for turns before even my oldest sister was born." Said quieter, but otherwise fairly resigned to sitting still now, the pointer finger of the hand not currently holding a melty cold rag to his face traces along some of the creases in the fabric gathered around the bend of his leg. He glances up at the sound of the firelizard snoring, getting a nice good look at the nose-crinkled laughing face of the smith which sets his face ablaze and stiffens his shoulders. Mouth open, closed, open, closed and then open to sputter out something completely unintelligible before he shoves his chair back and pushes himself to his feet with a heavy slap to the surface of the table. Hunched, he keeps his head down, takes a few long measured breaths and swallows hard. "I trust you." Words carefully selected, formed and delivered, Xhan takes this opportunity to hover all rigid and awkwardly before he just straights his spine and stands as tall as his five foot six frame will allow, albeit stiffly. Clearing his throat, he lingers, peeks at Voss long enough to suddenly bestow upon him a wide and toothy grin that's more boyish than beautiful, especially considering how red he becomes. It falters, he shifts his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other, "Iguttago." he says all at once, and bolts out the door. GOOOOOODBYEEEEEEEEEEEEEE….


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