Fort Weyr - Living Caverns

This cavern, having been created by bubbles in the volcanic flow of this extinct volcano, has a breathtaking ceiling — a vast dome that arches high above the heads of the weyrfolk that scurry around beneath it. A hollow echo can be heard from loud enough noises, and the chatterings of various firelizards are consequently multiplied into a chaotic babble. All in all, the living cavern is a loud place.

Tables are scattered around the room, apparently in no particular order. Over to one side near the kitchens, two medium sized serving tables are constantly spread with snacks, klah, and other goodies. The tables look worn, yet perfectly fitted to the atmosphere of the caverns. In the 'corners' of the cavern, smaller two and four place tables are set up for more private talks or just a less chaotic atmosphere in which to eat.


Landers cants his chin back over a shoulder to regard the young woman whom moments ago he barely even noticed, or so say the lift his brows that rise on his forehead. Feet pivot around as if he had the knack of a Gather performer, easily sweeping up that outstretched hand with one of his own and knuckling it toward his lips, of which if he can, if she doesn't pull away he'll put a quick touch of his lips to. Also with a bow of his head, he draws her hand down away from his mouth (if she didn't jerk it away), speaking with a roguish seafaring accent, "M'lady Miki. Tis a pleasure," a pause as he lets her fingers slide from his own as he eyes up the firelizard, "Peace. Mind you not my heathen cousins." This said to either the firelizard or the woman is unclear. Tilting his head, he gives a short gale of a laughter for her flirtatious sentiments, "Ahh Miss, be careful thar, I just might send ya on an errand ya may just like." A wink in return, clearly responsive enough to flirt right back with her.

Miki giggles as he kisses her hand. Miki? Turning down kisses? Never! There's another annoyed gaze sent in Baru's direction and the lizard disappears, no doubt sent off to keep from interrupting. And then the accent and language earns another raised eyebrow, but Miki likes it more than anything. "Well good sir…" a foot reaches out and she kicks out the chair in front of her, "Sit if you'd like. Maybe you can tell me a bit more about this /errand/ of yours." This late evening at Fort was certainly shaping up to be an interesting one. "Hope you don't mind the company of a clumsy candidate. But how about you gimme a name dear? I'd hate to call you sir all evening." There's a wink before the young woman leans forward, settling her elbows on the table and cupping her face in both hands.

Strutting in, with his clothes in absolutely pristine condition is Donakan. The vintner apprentice has a big smile upon his face. His shirt is a tight fitting bright blue making his blue-gray eyes more blue then gray. His hair is an unruly mess but his wherhide pants are a perfect fit, taylored to fit him perfectly. His boots are shined to perfection. A single pack slung over his shoulder. He looks around the cavern, studying the inhabitants before he heads over to the food tables. He picks up a plate and starts to gather up some food. The Xanadu resident just helps himself to a nice helping of meat, cheese and fruits before he turns around to look around for a place to sit.

It's sometime in the evening and there's a boisterous group of men crowding around one table, mowing down their meals and looking to be rather jolly about the lack of a Captain around, since it seems they are no doubt from a ship and have wound up in the Weyr land 'dwelling' for one reason or another. Landers is part of that crew, though he's drifted off to the side corner table where Miki currently sits, now both of them conversing in a very engaging way.

Landers leans in on the table where he just gave Miki back her hand, taking a bit of the chair against his thigh when she kicks it out from underneath the table. With that thick seafaring accent on his tongue, he sweeps the chair out the rest of the way while spouting a few words for his new tablemate, "Sit I shall, I reckon tis better than that thar table." A thumb pitched over his shoulder toward his crew who are clinking ale mugs together and drifting toward the 'bar' in the Weyr. "'Sides, I sail with 'em Turn round. Could use a given break with a saucy lady," obviously a compliment with the addition of a wink and a crook of a smile. Plunking down in the seat, he starts repositioning the chair to angle in closer to Miki, the piece of furniture groaning along the floor boards. Closer and closer until his arm is slung behind Miki on the back of her chair, getting mighty friendly but he's got the persona to pull it off. "Aye lass, a name be better than 'sar' since I be not the Cap'n. Tis Lan, at yar service M'lady." Being so close, she can tell he's off the boats. He has a distinct smell of sea salt on him, not a bad thing paired with the right fragrant, just out of place in the Weyr. "As for the errand, now thar be some good fun involved if yer able."

Miki watches the chair growing closer, grinning with approbal the entire time. "Lan huh? I like it, nice ring, not too long. How old are you again?" The nanny winks, leaning back so that she's barely brushing against his arm. "I guess you'll just have to tell me about this errand. Though I'm a bit limited in certain areas since I'm a candidate and all." Pout. /Now/ the fun shows up, after she can't do anything and everything. The nanny lets out a quiet sigh, breathing in the scent. "Shells, good smelling and with a charming accent. And people told me all sailors were horrid brutes…" The candidate trails off as an unfamiliar form walks into the caverns, one that's rather nicely dressed. Seems like men were just falling into Fort today. Not anything Miki would object to.

Being from Xanadu in the South, Donakan is used to the seafairing rowdy crowds. Especially since he is a vintner who works the Tavern at the Weyr. He smirks as the boys start off. The expression on his face says that he knows just where they are going, the place that he just left. He plucks up a piece of the hard cheese and he nips it while he looks for a place to sit. He finally decides on a place and moves to one of the empty tables. He puts down his plate and then pulls his bag off his shoulder. The nicely dressed vintner takes a seat and he pulls open his bag and pulls out a glass bottle. It has an amber liquid in it and he pours himself a drink and he starts to enjoy his meal.

Landers allows a husky chuckle tumble out in amusement for her question of his age, "Again applies I told yah once. Ah suppose ya'll have ta guess." Fingers from his free hand lift to scrub at his day old stubble, eyes flashing toward his crew mates and then toward the others in the cavern. That is when Donakan earns a cheeky grin. Though since his nanny counterpart has not rebuked his attentions, his fingers nearest to her shoulder and on the back of the chair creep forward toward the white knot on her shoulder, pulling at it just briefly, "Ah, what if ya didn't have ta be, for a night. No one would know." There is one thing about sailors that can be true, when they get on land they're all about the parties and the good times, and the fun. He does laugh once more though to her comment of sailors being horrid brutes, "Nah. Miss. Them horrid ones be pirates," his fingers dance over her candidate knot, rather forward in that he certainly weasels in on her personal space. Then his eyes snap toward the sigil of the Vintner lad again, following him over toward another table. "Yo!" he calls over across the way, "No need ta sit alone."

Aamanz comes skirting out of the inner caverns, to a chorus of goodbyes of voices of youngsters smaller than himself. He pauses in the doorway, and calls especially, "Minzy, be good, huh? I'll see you tomorrow or the next day!" Ah, and he's got a slightly older lad with him, maybe a turn or two his senior, with whom he shares quite a few characteristics. The pair put heads together as if conspiring for a few moments, then satisfied, head towards the food tables, skirting strangers, weyrfolk, and Miki alike…whatever mischief they might have thought of, food is paramount. Especially to two growing boys. They begin piling mountains of chow up.

Miki grins and tilts her head, "Hmmm, 19? Though you've got quite a beard growin there." Her hand reaches up, brushing against the stubble for a few seconds as she grins. Personal space? Miki could invade too. "And as much I'd love to quit for a night, I can't. Gotta set a good example for the rest of 'em, and I don't wanna get in /too/ much trouble." Eyes wander around the cavern and she focuses more directly on the other man as Lan calls out to him. "He's right ya know? Come and join us if you'd like." But those wandering eyes are suddenly zeroing in on two weyrbrats…one of which she knows pretty well. But at this point they look innocent enough so the nanny just shrugs, turning her attention back to the older folk.

Donakan flicks his gaze over towards Landers as the sailor calls over to him and the vintner keeps his blue-gray eyes locked onto him. He is given a thorough once over and he says, "Yeah, well I think that you just want my home made rum." A cocky little smirk appears on his face and he lifts the glass of rum up and he salutes towards Landers. "Promise not to drink all of my rum and i'll come on over." He looks at Miki and then looks down at his plate and he lifts himself up and gathers his stuff and heads over to where Miki and Landers are flirting. "I always have enough rum, who am I kidding. That's what we vintner's do. We produce alcohol out of thin air."

Landers regards Miki with a calculated look, drawn up with scrutiny for the refusal to let her knot slide for a night, thus his fingers creep away from the white (semi-white) thing adorned on her shoulder. Disappointment does cross his features, for a brief moment. Rebounding is what a sailor does, quick on his feet and quick with his head, "Ahh, yah won't get inta trouble fer having a bit o'fun." He winks at her, having eaten up the space inbetween them long since, as if he knew her and wasn't a complete stranger to the area. As it is, her fondling of his beard is enough to make him chuckle, "Yer close. I turned twenty nah'ta day ago." That rugged accent continues to be embraced, as one would breath air he talks like the southern sailors. For the Vintner, the sailor gives another gusty chuckle, waving the other lad over and calling out, "O'course I want yer rum. Jus' come over here, ya?" Lifting up in his chair, he fishes out a half mark and waggles it to the Vintner, "What's yer name friend?" Another cheeky grin for the Vintner, kicking out a chair for Donakan like Miki did for Landers.

Aamanz settles down near Miki (invited or not), but his sibling is almost instantly distracted by a patch of older boys…and Aamanz is abandoned to sit near the other Candidate…so he does what all good weyrbrats does…he eyes the strangers speculatively as he shovels food into his mouth…and hands bites of edibles to a small, fat, lazy brown firelizard in the process. "Hey, Miki…who's that?" He points at Landers with his fork full of chunks of fried tubers.

Miki sighs. Men on one side and rum on the other. /WHY/ was she a candidate now of all times? But as much as Landers is tempting her the nanny just shakes her head, putting on the voice she uses to straighten out her littles. "If I don't Impress then I'll send a flit for you. Right now though? I think you'll have to look for another lass." The nanny winks and when Aam sits down there's a bit of a relieved look on her face. No chance of trouble now. "Heyya Aam. Whatcha up to? This is Landers and that is…" Her gaze turns towards the other lad, "Right, uhhh what's your name? I promise not to bite. But shards…that rum looks good." The nanny eyes it wistfully before sighing and determinedly averting her eyes.

The vintner smirks at Landers and Miki as the two are flirting. "Just be careful, they are rather stern when it comes to the rules of candidacy. If anyone see's you two getting too friendly. Someone could snitch and get you in trouble. I have stood for more clutches then some of the candidates have turns." He looks at Miki and then he laughs. "Oh, yes. I remember the dry candidate days." He stands up and gets another glass and he pours some rum for Landers. The glass is pushed towards Landers, "Here you go." To the name question he finally responds. "Donakan from Xanadu." His reputation probably has not reached Fort but he has stood at every clutch since he was 12 turns old and still left without a lifemate. "It's okay, you can bite. I bite back." A wink for Miki. "Besides, Alcohol is the cure all for all ouches."

"MIKI! AAMANZ!" Polsie's enthusiastic call echoes clear across the Living Cavern, as the candidate emerges from Shenanigan's and lifts a hand in greeting. She ambles over, hands stuffed casually in her pockets. There's a satisfied gleam in the Bitran girl's eyes, and a smug twist in her jovial smile. *Somebody* has clearly been out making her own fun. "And who might these two fine fellas be?" Polsie inquires, as she comes up to hover behind Miki and Aamanz, casting a curious glance at Landers and Donakan. The latter's remarks perk her interests. "Ohhh, now - alcohol and flirting?" Taking advantage of her half foot advantage, she leans over and contorts her head enough to grin hugely (sideways) at the other female candidate. "Sounds like we'd better be dragging Miki here off before she lands in hot water water, eh, Aamanz?"

Landers reaches for one of Miki's hands, shaking his head, "Tis sad, since I ship out on the morn," a charismatic show of his deepest regrets holds his features, until the talk of rum has him splitting the facade with a jovial grin. "Pour some fer M'lady Miki too, don't cha mind it now," this spoken between Donakan and Miki, intending to get the girl to at least share a moment of drink with the seafaring escapee. Only a blank look falls into place when lectured upon the rules of candidacy, followed by a twich of his lip and a sudden shift to lean forward on the table, calling Donakan's attention, "Yer not sayin yer a snitch I hope? Tis bad luck ta be a rat." His eyes shift back and forth, as if about to give away a secret, "Rules are made ta be broken. Yer life be a snore iffin ya follow…." that's where he trails off, broken off at the enthusiastic call from Polsie. Now that's where his eyes light up and he straightens in his chair, accepting the rum from Donakan in time to nod his name, but clearly his attentions have fallen upon someone else now. Oh these sailor lads, stranded out on the seas for months at a time, eyes bulging out of their heads at every passing fancy. The Bitran girl is one of them, evidently. "Ahh, come sit!" he pushes out from the table so that his lap is available for Polsie, patting it as he keeps his other arm around Miki, the rogue brandishing a winning smile, "and I'll tell yah my name lass." What ruffian sailor doesn't want a girl on either side of him or on his knee with a glass of rum in his hand? Really, who would have guessed it of a land enclosed Weyr.

Aamanz bounces his attention from Miki to Landers to Donakan to Polsie…he looks a wherry watching dragons flying overhead! But he ohs at Polsie, "Well…uh." He looks at Miki, as if trying to decide if getting her into trouble is a good idea or not. If there's one less Candidate on the sands, that's one less Candidate to compete for the dragons' attentions, right? But he nods, "Yeah, Miki. You better be careful. If I can't go rummaging the pots and pans and witgits and doofangles, you can't go breaking the adults rules, either."

Miki rolls her eyes, "Don't worry. I'm not going to /do/ anything!" Especially not this close to the hatching. Sure the nanny was a flirt, but she wasn't going to act on it. A familiar voice catches her attention and the oncoming Polsie is greeted with enthusiastic wave before her comments earn her a mock glare. Which is highly /ineffective/ coming from such a short girl. "Polsie! I'm /not/ drinking any alcohol…unfortunately. Just enjoying some new company. But this is Landers and that there's Donakan." There's a laugh at Landers' antics and she leaves the other candidate girl to deal with his oh so charming ways.

Donakan quirks a brow and his long brown hair falls into his eyes. He shakes his head at Landers, "Why would I rat her out? I don't live here at Fort. I have nothing to gain from it. Besides, who am I to deny rum to anyone who wants it?" He pours a bit of rum into the glass and he says, "Time to corrupt Forts candies." He looks at Landers for a long moment as he propositions the new arrival. "The people here at Fort are very friendly." He grabs the bottle of rum and he waggles it towards Polsie. "Sure you don't want some? A sip won't kill anyone." The glass is raised to his own lips and he sips it slowly. "Glad that I am not standing right now. I enjoy my rum. I just spent quite some time slinging drinks at the bar. I do flair. I was invited here to show my moves at the Bar here. I think they wanted me to entertain all those seafairers."

Polsie sees Landers' winning smile and matches it exactly, before serenely pushing herself off the back of Miki's chair and gliding over to take a seat - across from him, alas, not the proffered lap seat. "Uh-uh, sugar," the girl chirps. Her smile is faintly but perceptively flirtatious, in a very… toothy sort way. "I don't sit in laps I'm not well acquainted with! 'Specially not with the eggs 'bout to crack. We all," one hand sweeps up dramatically to her forehead, "must make sacrifices. No fellas for Miki, no witgits and doofangles for Aamanz, no *big* card games for me…" The toothy smile makes another appearance. She waves the rum off with another airy little gesture, though she casts a warm smile Donakan's way to express appreciation for the offer. "Landers and Donakan, eh? And what brings you two fellas here to Fort?"

"Rum be harmless," Landers speaks with his seafaring accent, thick as he settles back on his chair, eyes regarding those who have clustered around them, a good-humoured spark in his eye. At Miki's admissions, Landers makes a soft noise made in his chest, an exaggerated puppy dog look on his face, "Nar' even a kiss? Arg… my broken heart," clearly playful though by the wink he bestows for Miki's sake. He takes a moment to slosh some of Donakan's home brewed rum around in the glass, pounding back a shot shortly after the thoughtful examination. Approval alights in his eyes, his voice now aimed at Donakan, "Don, good stuff. I reckon I oughta buy some 'fore I ship out on the morrow." The seafaring lad does dip his head in a respectful salute to the rum-maker. The fact that Polsie doesn't sit in his lap makes him shake his head, with a regretful puff of air blow out from inbetween his lips, pieces of hair ruffled up in that moment. "Alas, rum comes easy…" he downs a few more gulps of it, before settling back, flashing a smile at Polsie, "Nuthin stopping ya from getting ta know my lap." A last ditch effort and then into the formalities, "Ship docked down in Fort Sea Hold. Just did an escort with the cap'n." Enough said, or so he believes.

Alas, it might not BE enough…at least for the perpetually curious Weyrbrat. His ears practically perk up…both at Lander's uncouth accent, and at his strange manners. "You're a sailor?" It comes in a provoked, incredulous tone of questioning, "What kind of ship to do you sail on? Do you see shipfish? Are there really giant fish out there, bigger than boats? Why'd you come to Fort Sea Hold? Who's your captain?" His sleepy firelizard gives a belching chirrup and curls up next to Amz's elbow as the boy unleashes a tsunami of chattery questions. "Have you ever been in a Weyr before? Did you see the eggs already?"

Miki giggles and sends her own wink in Landers direction, "What can I say? I'm just a heart breaker. I guess you'll have to wait until the next time you put in at fort." But hey, Miki's not /all/ boredom and rules. The girl takes two fingers, kissing them and then reaching over to press them on Landers' lips. "That's all you're getting out of me tonight. Especially since I'm dry…" Another wistful glance is thrown at the rum and the nanny steels herself. But Aam's numerous questions ellicit a chuckle and the nanny resists the urge to ruffle the lad's hair. He's too old for that. "Flair? Ohhh! I haven't seen one of those performances in /ages/! Not allowed to go to the bar I don't think. No men, no booze. It's practically torture!" She plays along with Polsie's drama. "Cruelty thy name is candidacy."

Donakan sips down more rum then he does eating his food. But then again, he is a vintner after all. They like to drink alcohol as much as they make it. He smiles at Polsie. "Ahh, the sacrifices of a candidate. They are asked to make sacrifices to prepare you for the life as a weyrling. I have heard it a million times. I have stood enough that they should make an exception for me. If anyone knows a thing about sacrifice it is me." He smirks, a coy little smirk that he is famous for. "I toss bottles in the air and make crazy mixed drinks. I also am known for my fire breathing ability. Among other impressive techniques that really won't help me out in the real world but behind the bar it is pretty damn impressive." He nods his head in agreement. "Rum is harmless by itself. It's a bottle of rum that leads to a barrel. That's my kind of a party." Another sip from his glass and he says, "So that's what brings me here." He looks at the young Weyrbrat as he unleashes his torrent of questions on Landers. "Well if you strike out with the ladies. You know you have one admirer here at Fort." He snickers at that comment.

"We're *allowed* in bars - both Shenanigan's and the Gemstone," Polsie corrects Miki. "I was in Shenanigan's just five minutes ago, and I am, *of course*, a model of decorum." Of course. "We just can't go and get *soozled*, that's all. So," her grin redirects at Donakan, a hint of challenge in her dark eyes, "if you're really such a good dancer…" Landers' last ditch effort only earns him a mock-severe shake of the candidate's head. "Nothing doing, my lad! And -" she can't keep the straight face any longer, grin reappearing, "- don't be taking any liberties with Miki over there, you've got Aamanz and I for chaperones." Aamanz's stream of questions just earns an eyeroll. Twelve turn olds. Pft.

Lan leans forward to peer passed Miki to an outburst of curiosity, blue eyes blinking at the weyrbrat before another gusty laughter fills him and a sailor's pride fills him. His shoulders straighten and his chest puffs out. His arm slides away from Miki so he can use them to express the more exaggerated parts of his stories to come. "Aye lad, I be a shipmate on the 'Windy Water.' Thar Cap'n is Jonas 'Slugger' … great man. Be a large vessel, dragon sized." He expands his hands in time to show the size, one hand flopping back behind Miki again, "Aye, see the shipfish all the time. Thar lucky, ya see. Guides us through the narrows." As if he had a list in his head, he goes through the questions as much as he can, "Big old fish out yonder. Thar be legends about the sharp toothed ones, big 'nuff to swallow a man." There's a grin out the side of his face for the attention he receives from the younger weyrbrat. Nothing like a pride being polished. "Nah. Seen plenty of 'em. From a distance. First time we allowed to land dwell in a Weyr. Usually stick ta the Holds," a shrug of his shoulder, "Nah. Nevar did see the…" interrupted again, by the heart breaker and the press of her kissed fingers upon his lips.
Just because she is living by rules doesn't mean he necessarily is. The lad considers the pseudo kiss cautiously, eyebrow mischieviously perched then as he regales in silence. Abruptly, since he invaded her personal space a lot sooner, the sailor does what sailors do best: being brash and daring. With one solid motion his body is shifting enough to lift him out of his chair so he's able to reach for Miki's face with his rough worked hands and plant a good sized kiss on her.
Only once he's satisfied (or once she's shoved him off), the lad plunks back down in his chair with a smug look on his face, "Thar be proper, since yar rules don't apply ta me." A nod is given to Donakan, "Aye." Then he balks at Polsie, pretending innocent, "Liberties?! Nah, nevar."

Aamanz is ALLLLL eyes at the sailor's stories, but not nearly as many eyes as he is when said seaman grabs hold of Miki and smooches at her! He's seen bronzeriders get slugged for less! But all that passes his usually verbose lips is, "Wow." Sure. Last sevenday, he was considering being a wherhandler. Now it's obvious…sailor might work out fine, if he doesn't impress!

Miki nods along at Polsie's comments, "I /do/ kinda wanna see a show. And Pols is right about liberti—" The poor nanny's too late as the sailor already takes his liberties. But this /is/ Miki and she's not shoving him off her anything. When he pulls away the nanny looks more like a smug cat then anything. "/I/ didn't do anything guys. Keep that in mind!" She giggles and leans back in the chair, finally registering Landers' tales about the see and rolling her eyes a bit. "I should remember those stories, it'd certainly help keep the littles in line."

Donakan looks at Aamanz for a moment. "Shards, It sure feels like a long time since I was that young. I was about your age when I stood for my first clutch." He reflects about things for a moment. A sip of his rum helps him with his quiet reflections. But he does of course shift his attention to Polsie. "I'm a good bartender. My dancing is alright, but I have really good hand eye coordination and I am good with throwing bottles up in the air and making them spin around without dropping them. And I can breath fire like a dragon. Not an easy feat, it's dangerous." He smiles at her. "I'd put on a show for ya if that is what you're looking for." The kiss is watched and he just shrugs it off. Not his businesss. "So about this rum." A long swig of it is taken.

"Now *see here*, sailor lad." Miki may not be bothered by Landers' exploit, but Polsie is, at least a smidgeon. She's *smiling*, but, well, so do sharks. The candidate half rises from her seat, resting her hands on the table and leaning forward, slightly. "Hands, off. Mouths, to yourself." Polsie, regulating. Having said her piece, the Bitran girl serenely resumes a seated position and turns her attention to Donakan, eyebrows raised. "Breathe fire, *really*? I remember, growing up, we'd sometimes get performers who could do that sorta thing - Bitra always has the *best* Gathers -" she can't quite resist tossing that in "- but I never learned what the trick is."

Landers does share a look with Miki, mischievious and devious, his own smug expression remaining as he pretends not to have done anything what so ever. For Polsie, he waggles his eyebrows, "Yah can have a smooch too miss. I nar wantin yah to be jealous," a sincere offer, coming from the sailor lad. At this point he even sneaks a peak at Aamanz, a wink there for the weyrbrat, indeed an encouragement! Not much longer after his stolen smooch, he polishes off the rum that he was poured. The empty glass makes a distinctive echo sound as he thumps it down on the table surface, "Aye, the rum. How much can ya get fer me, 'fore morn?" Asked of Donakan, who gets a cheeky grin once again. "Woahhh… mate, yah can breathe fire?!" This again to Don, "Donakan 'Firebreather' …" the nickname rolls of his tongue, a grin, "When do we get to see this?" Hey, he showed off his smooching abilities, now the vintner has to put his word to the test.

It's that statement from Donakan that draws his attention away from Landers and towards the Xanadian. He can breathe FIRE? He's with the others…especially Landers. "Yeah! I wanna see!"

Miki laughs and leans onto the table, her eyes wide and eager. "You'll show us your fire breathing right? Please?" The nanny puts on her best eager child look, much more effective at her height. She takes just enough break from that expression to send a wink at Polsie and mouth 'thanks', but after that her eyes are back to Donakan. And Landers obvious pass at Polsie just results in a small mental chuckle.

Donakan laughs at that and he nods his head. "Yes, I don't need my own dragon. I can do it myself." He looks at all the people who seem to want him to put on a show. Well what is the point in bragging if you aren't willing to show off your skills. "Alright, alright. I'll show you guys." He pushes away from the table and he pulls his bag open and pulls out a metal rod that he uses as a torch. It has a sphere on the end and he pulls out a bottle from his bag and a fancy lighter from the smith craft. "Alright kids, don't try this down in the lower caverns. They'll skin my hide if you try it out." He smirks and then stands before he starts to set up the items. He drops a bit of the high proof alcohol on the end of the torch and then he lights it up. Stepping away from the group to give himself room. The torch is moved around with with practiced ease, making designs in the air in front of him and he winks with a cocky grin upon his face. The bottle of alcohol is lifted to his lips and he takes a sizeable swallow. He holds the torch up in front of him and he spews out a steady stream of the high proof alcohol into the flame. The bulge of fire is rather impressive and it is only the start of it. He then spews out a huge belch of flames. He does a quick bow for the group and then he drops the torch in a glass of water and douses it.

"Don't even think about it, sailor boy," Polsie informs Landers, with a dismissive wave of her hand. Donakan, regardless, has claimed the bulk of her attention. Because fire breathing! The girl watches the performance intensely, and lets out a satisfyingly admiring "Oooo!" at the first stream of flame. The finale gets a noisy, high-pitched, "THAT. IS SO. GREAT!" while the candidate claps in enthusiastic delight, grinning like a mad woman.

While sailors love the water like no other thing in the world, this particular sailor has something against fire. Well, at least maybe it was the whole design of a man breathing fire that has Landers standing up from his chair to watch the artful display of a human dragon at work. It is obvious he casts a suspecting glance to the items immediately surrounding Donakan, moving some of the more flamable items away from the other lad, bunching them at the opposite end of the table. Finally, when the burst of flames spew from what seems to be Donakan's mouth, he is amongst those who make a noise at the display. Although his eyes snap to Polsie who cheers enthusiastically for the vintner. Instead of getting riled up and jealous, Landers claps with them, smirking, "Don. Yar going ta have ta teach me that trick." Anything he can use to swoon the ladies, right? Either way, sailors are flooding out of the bar, which definitely earns the young sailor's eye. He grits his teeth, "Arg. Be it time already?" There is a regretful look at the commrades he's made at the table, at Fort, only, he makes a flourish with his arms, "Peace be with you all. Cap'n looks ta have called us back. Good luck at the … watchcah.. call it.. eggs." Yes.. eggs. Really? The sailor gives a lasting smile to Miki, almost a special favour, before he sidles up to Don, clapping him on the shoulder, "Fort Sea Hold, Windy Water. Ya got until dawn. Bring what ya want ta sell." A final bow of his head, "Ladies, gents." Excusing himself, he jogs to catch up to some of those sailors streaming outside the cavern.

Forget watchwhers and sailors. The youngest of the Candidates is busy GAWPKING at Donakan…it's perfectly natural for DRAGONS to spew fire from their faces, but a man? He's absolutely riveted, and cheers the bartender on with youthful glee. "That was the BEST thing I've ever seen!"

Even the nanny is up on her feet, eyes wide and amazed. She's practically got the attitude of a little. "That was SO great! You have to show us more some time yeah?" But her attention is quickly diverted by the departing sea man and the older candidates returns that smile with a special one of her own, accompanied by a wink. She's about to launch into another volley of admiration at the fire when Baru suddenly pops out above her head, shrilling madly. There's a look of annoyance and apologetic shrug to the others, "Apparently it's too dangerous for me to be here right now…and I'm needed for some chore or another. I'll see ya around! Bye!" With a quick wave the nanny turns on her heel and heads towards the kitchen doors, Baru chattering at her angrily all the way.

The Xanadu Vintner eats up the applauds from the crowd. He doesn't have the moves that Landers has but he has his own charm. Even when he has won over Aamanz, the man has a smile from ear to ear. He wipes his face clean and he says, "Next time i'll eat the flame for you. But I gotta give you all an excuse to come see me do it again some other time." He sticks out his tongue. "I have a dragon tongue, allows me to swallow the fire too." He winks at Aamanz and then he looks to Landers. "It's a craft secret. The vintner's don't show it to just anyone. I was sworn to secrecy when I signed up my craft. I can teach you how to make a drink that the ladies will love though." He smiles. "I will however hook you up with enough rum to knock out a dragon." Repeating the name, "Windy Water at Fort Sea Hold. I'll see you before dawn." He nods at the others. "Well, I will probably be back, Maybe for the festivities of the hatching day celebration. If not, when ya'll get your wings you could visit me at Xanadu." The vintner starts to clean up the tools of his trade.

"If you're back in time for the Hatching," comments Polsie, brows furrowing slightly in thought, "you really outta speak to Weyrwoman Galina and see if she'll let you perform." She gives the Vintner a warm smile. "That'll be real neat, and I'm sure that all they've got planned is food and dancing. Shards, that's neat looking. Though I'd be terrified of catching my hair on fire if I tried doing the same, I s'pose."

Donakan smirks at Polsie, "Like I said, it's a craft secret. I think that the Master taught me because he felt sorry for me that I didn't have a dragon of my own to spew fire for me. But i'll be happy to teach my bronze how to spew fire when I finally meet my lifemate." He keeps the smile on his face despite the rather somber story about why he was taught the skill. "Safety is the key. Especially if you are spewing fire around all that alcohol in a bar. If the Weyrwoman wishes my performance, then I can perform." He waves goodbye to all of those people who are departing.


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