'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.

Culmination of my mini-TP 9/28/05 - Log by Diz

Fort Area - Gemstone Tavern
The dim lighting by the flicker of candles lining the walls is enough to offer a view of a room decorated in such a way as to be tastefully appealing. Each piece of furniture and decoration is chosen to accent another piece, and so on and so forth, matching and tying the whole room together in a theme that's separate, and yet at the same time unified. Tables line one wall, dimly lit by candles hanging in sconces all along. The bar along the far right wall is made of richly toned mahogany, tooled by a master and polished to shine with the soft glow of wood at its finest.

Candles strategically placed add to the atmosphere, accenting, punctuating. Towards the back is an open fireplace, constantly burning with a bright light, warming the tavern on cold nights and serving as a gathering place for patrons' story-tellings. Across the room, lush pillows and soft-covered floors promote relaxation at ease. Just before the pillows is a long stage, so full of its own vigor and memory - nicks here, marks there, scuffs from footware and other things - that it's possible to imagine the shows put on for the patrons without necessarily seeing the performances.

People: Rheffayl

Obvious exits:
Out -O- Upstairs -UP-

A tall, ruddy-toned young woman, she's perhaps stockier in build than your average female. She gives off no aura of displeasure about her fleshier bodily proportions though, the distinct definition of hard muscle visible in her shoulders and arms.
Fitting in with her heavy-built physique, she possesses a tough jawline, her cheekbones harsh in the contours of her face. Her nose is large, hooking slightly at the end, easily overshadowing the feminine curve of her lips just as her nearly black brows draw more attention than her gray-rimmed, brown eyes.
She's done something her hair. What is hard to say. But it's actually lying down?! The shiny, tiny ringlets of brackish brown fall in a long cascade to the middle of her back, a thin metal headband keeping anything errant from venturing into her face.
And what an outfit! Glaring red hugs to her buxom torso, with a low scooped neckline and long sleeves. Black lacing up the center looks as if it's poised to burst. Positioned on her hips is a wide belt covered in silver beads. And swishing dramatically around her legs is a sleek black skirt. Her black ankle boots have even been given a fresh coat of shoe polish.
A Fort Weyr Candidate knot has made its way to her person. Hmm.

The Log:

Public Announcement from Rheffayl: Karaoke Night at the Gemstone Tavern is set to begin in just a scant few moments. Those interested in some goofy entertainment can @tel #10741 then walk on in.
Elara moves into the Gemstone Tavern, from the Tunnel Entrance.
Elara has arrived.

X'an steps into the Gemstone Tavern, from the Tunnel Entrance.
X'an has arrived.

Diz walks into the Gemstone Tavern, from the Tunnel Entrance.
Diz has arrived.

Rheffayl strolls down the stairs in.. well.. it's an /outfit/ to be sure. But a wide smile is giddily affixed to her face as she prances towards the bar and back into the kitchen. She and a another tavern worker alternately emerge from the back, carrying trays of punch glasses and finally.. a both of them on either side, carry out a large urn. The sweet scent of cinnamon and butterscotch wafting from the container.

Elara slips in through the door, trying to be unnoticed. She's in a purple gown. Meep. She presses against the wall and looks around quickly.

Tellus walks into the Gemstone Tavern, from the Tunnel Entrance.
Tellus has arrived.

X'an strides in, or.. well, he would stride, except he's limping a little, walking with a cane. *shifteyes* Looking windswept and fresh-faced, he holds the door open for others like a gentleman, casting eyes around the tavern with bright sparkling eyes. "This should be very interesting…"

No shy slinking for Diz! She strides in on X'an's heels, tugging thin riding gloves off finger by finger. "This will be entertaining," she might be heard correcting the weyrleader. That her tone seems sincere is a mind-boggling thing but it's true— there's nary a dry note in evidence as she scans the tavern's interior, picking out familiar faces. "I do hope the cider is ready and… ah! That's it, I think? And what in Faranth's name is Rheffayl wearing? Is that legal? Not that she hasn't the proper figure for it… ah, and Elara too! Good evening ma'am. Rheffayl! Here!"

Elara blushes as she scurries towards X'an and Diz, "Hi," she whispers softly. "Sorry I didn't come back right away X'an. I was with Wiyaneth." She smiles brightly at her lifemate's name. "What do you think?" she asks quietly, looking down at the purple gown she wears. "Thank you, Diz." "Remember, Rheffayl, only one per candidate. And…interesting…outfit…"

Rheffayl grunts a bit as she and the other worker heft the urn on to a stand behind the bar. And then she's off, scampering towards the cluster of them.. bouncing all the way. Ehem. "I'm so glad you all came! Are you ready for your taste of our new mead?" She wags a brow, "It's really.. it's just lovely is what it is. Very.. festive I think." She gives a harsh laugh, enjoying herself immensely.

X'an's eyebrows have elevated, that's for sure. Legal? Gravity defying? It's possibly not a good job that he's with two women and /that/ outfit… poor man's going to lose this battle, and maybe the war. "Pardon?" - has he taken his eyes off it yet? "I'm sure we're all here to do our breast."

Hark! Who should darken the doorstep of this hallowed tavern? None other than Journeyman Tellus. Spotting Elara and X'an the miner calls out, "Elara, X'an. Hello there!" She glances over her shoulder and quickly gets out of the way of incoming traffic.
"No thanks necessary, Weyrwoman. It took little enough work, I just had to make a few adjustments on the outer gown there." Diz gives Elara a critical once over before nodding in approval. "I haven't lost my eye, it fits in the bust. Very fetching, ma'am." But she'll have to excuse the candidate if she turns rather abruptly from fashion talk to that of… "Mead? Oh lovely. One per, but I do hope it's a sizeable one. Not all of us are lightweight—Zantos!"

Elara nods absently at X'an, "Yes, our breast," she murmurs absently, looking all around the tavern as if already seeking out candidates drinking. Tellus' greeting pulls her back to the present and she smiles, "Tellus! Welcome, I'm so glad you could join us."

Rheffayl lifts a brow at the three of them, though she can't help but smile. "Like my outfit do you? I thought I'd really.. Go for it!" A gleeful sort of fist shake enters in here, "You know, have some fun." So -that's- how she has fun.. Making herself a slightly traumatic eyesore.

X'an, entirely oblivious as to why he just got exclaimed at, blinks at Diz, drawn inexorably back to the copious bounty that barely manages to stay in place and decorus, and with his eyes suffering from the high gravity of a neutron star, /draaaaaaaaaags/ his gaze up to Rheffayl's face. "Hello Tellus, welcome back…" slap him. Someone, anyone, Elara?! HELP!

Diz gives X'an a very dark look indeed, head shaking in ladylike disapproval. "Honestly," she huffs before reaching for the shreds of her good mood. "It's a very striking outfit, Rheffayl." See? That's how it's done! "What were you saying about the mead?" she prompts, trying to bring the conversation back to the truly important topic at hand. Awaiting an answer, her attention casts towards Tellus. The young woman's vaguely familiar and as such earns a mild smile. "Good evening. You know, we really should all move to a table before we clutter up the walkway here…"
Elara shakes her head and tsks at Rheffayl, but maintains her silence. It is the tavern after all, and she has little authority. However, if that outfit sets one -bead- into the weyr…It's not proper attire for a Candidate. She slips her arm though X'an's and forcefully turns him to face Tellus. "What's the status of the kitchens?

"Breasts?" The miner glances around and quaintly regards the candidate's garb as well as Elara's. "And here I am dressed in common rags." Tellus sighs. "I happen to recall there was something going on, so I checked with the watch rider." Up go the hands in a flourishing gesture then drop to the side. The miner takes up a seat near the group, but leaves herself at her own table. "The kitchen? Oh, the kitchen. Right. We're done. Removed about one meter of dirt and stone, drilled six meters, put in a venting system then restored the floor. I checked the surveys and it looks like it's a small deposit of natural gas so it's just better to let it bleed off."

Rheffayl nods to Diz, "Right on it." But she can't help but smirk at X'an. That smirk.. is merely a weak attempt at saddling laughter though.. because she soon chuckling. "Oh goodness! Now that's why I dress up." She proclaims before sauntering behind the bar and ladling Diz a punch cup full of mead. "Don't lie to us now.. after you try it everyone around here wants an honest opinion. This mead it like everyone's baby in here." She starts ladling out cups for others as they approach the bar.

"Er…" Forcibly steered, X'an blinks at Tellus, finding the sight of the miner surprising it seems, after … /that/. His ears are going red. Very red in fact. "..Breasts? What about breasts, nothing about breasts, I wouldn't think about such a boob. I mean. I'm not thinking about tit." -FACEpalm- "Elara, I'm so very sorry. I think I'm going to sit by the fire for a couple with a pair of jugs." - and get his mind OUT of the cleavage!!!

"I would never lie about the quality of whatever alcohol I have on hand. Although I admit that our recent rule forbidding the stuff means that I may be rather biased," Diz warns Rheffayl, smile twisting up faint and amused. She accepts the cup after cozying up to the bar, lifting it for a practiced sniff and then a sip. It seems to find approval, as her look of concentration shifts into something bright. Pleased. "I quite like this! I would say it's a success… shame about the limit. And if we want anything resembling coherence from the weyrleader, Rheffayl, you might consider a hankie over your advantages there. Just while you're serving him."

Elara blushes faintly at Tellus and looks down at her gown. "Sorry, X'an wanted me to dress up." She smiles, "Wonderful! So we can move back into the kitchen? It snowed this morning - obviously - and the lake shore isn't the best place to cook and eat." Her eyes shift to the bar and she watches the candidates closely. Then she turns and looks at X'an, her eyes narrowing. She whispers something into his ear as her arm tightens on his. Yeah right, like she's going to let him wander off with his brain…somewhere else.

Elara mutters to X'an, "… about something… H'las,… He… have… does he?"

Rheffayl pats her hair absently and takes a moment to pour over her own appearance. In response to Diz she shrugs, "I like the attention. I won't lie." Though she quickly clears her throat and takes the stage, letting an employee man the mead distributing, "Alright alright! Let's save all your energy for applause.. or booing.. whichever you're moved to most." She gestures a bit to cut out the chatter. "Now I'm going to give this a shot first. Just so no one thinks this is a proper Harper show or anything other than some bar crawlers with a few too many drinks in them." She fluffs her hair a bit, "This is called 'Gone to the Tavern' a little rhyme I thought might fit the occasion." She nods to the bartender who starts up the music. A simple bouncy tune humming through various hidden speakers.

X'an clings to Elara. In fact it's to her he looks now, ignoring Diz, ignoring everyone as she murmurs to him, his expression clouds with some really odd looking twitches and fidgets, then he laughs, murmuring something to her in return. After, his eyes shift to the stage, looking at Rheff's /face/ as one of the barfolk hands him a small glass of the mead so lavishly set out.

X'an mutters to Elara, "… embarassed, I don't… it is… bosoms…. volume… But… H'las… erm….. do…"

Diz won't seat herself on one of the pillows but she does pull up a chair at the table nearest the stage, with a fine view of it and its current occupant. Her cup of mead— it's being sipped slowly, to make it last— is set at her elbow before she waves the rest of the group over. Then she settles in, still smiling that faintly crooked smile that speaks of amusement and a willingness to be entertained.
You have not paged anyone.

Tellus blanches, "Cups runneth over?" She cups her mouth then drops her head, "I'm sorry. I really din't mean to say that." Ahem. "Yes ma'am. Folks can move back in. Just tell 'em to becareful around the venting pipe. It's well protected so thre shouldn't be a problem and the rate of release is minimal. But somebody should inspect it to make sure it doesn't get blocked." The woman hushes when the music starts up.

Elara rolls her eyes at X'an with a chuckle. She mutters to X'an, "You… candidate…. her… Or you distract… and…" Then she turns to watch Rheffayl, and nods at Tellus, "We'll do that, thank you."

Adding her own rather humorous gestures to go along with the words, Rheffayl begins:
"Just a slip of a lass, naught without class
Went a fishin' for a man
A man she found, but rejection abound
Too good for our lass was he."
Not playing host to any sort of stage fright, the barwench seems to be just as at home barking to an audience as carrying drinks.
" Onward she sought, til at a tavern she bought
A drink for whom she hoped to be hers.
He drank her ale, but at her invitation did pale!
Useless drunkard sot!"
She flashes a grin at the tavern patrons, shaking a finger around the room at the last line if the verse.

"Her conviction waning, her heart was paining.
Perhaps a different approach?
She fluffed up her chest, and wiggled the rest
Finally! A little attention!"
Rheffayl seems to have quite a bit of fun pantomiming this verse, boldly sauntering about the stage with a swing in her hips and no shortage of exaggerated gestures.
"Towards her a man did coast, full of liquor and boast
Flirtations they did exchange
But along came a girl, had scarcely to twirl
And away after her, the man did go." Adding in a stage whisper, "Just goes to show huh?" before chuckling and continuing.

Taking up mock fury, Rheffayl recites the last verse.
"What was he? A fickle troll!
Too good to give our lass a roll.
And so sulk she did, into a pint of ale
Given up on men by the end of our tale." She pauses for a second after she finishes, dipping a slight bow, slight being more than enough in this particular outfit, and gesturing to the audience. "See! Just as easy as that! Just tell the 'tender what your song is and he'll play it. Who's next?" prod prod.

Elara's brows lift. Give our lass a roll? What, down the stairs? Confused, she looks to X'an. She also makes sure his eyes are where they should be.

Elara whispers softly to X'an and slips out.

Elara leaves the tavern.
Elara has left.

X'an was really about to reply there, turning to explain the lyrics to Elara, but she's a'suddenly telling him a single word, and departing. Blinking the way she came, he's entirely unaware of a small vacated space around his vicinity, and a burly trader nudging his elbow up to 'volunteer'… "What?" - looking to the man, then the nod given to the stage, he widens his eyes. "What?! No, not yet, no! I haven't rehearsed!" - someone give him a cupie doll.

Diz is laughing into her cup by the end, far too dignified for an open show of amusement and so disguising it behind the taking of a sip. Of course, she's also one of the first to applaud the other candidate once the song swings to a halt. She won't hoot and hollar as some of those in the rear of the tavern are doing— a mixed group of riders and residents who've hit the mead early, from the look of them— but she -does- applaud. "Bravo!" And even better… "Go on, Weyrleader. Lead by example!"

Tellus claps her hands, "A fine fanciful song!" The woman hops to her feet and goes to the bar, "I'll try that mead please." She casts a glance towards the others to see if there are any takers. "Yes X'an, c'mon. Sing us a tune."

Rheffayl bursts into clapping her self, just as pleased with everyone having a good time as she could be with anything. Hopping off the stage, she waves X'an towards it. "Somebody get this man a drink and get him on stage!" She cheers with delight. Then it's time for a giddy sort of retreat behind the bar, so she can be the one toying with the stereo system of course.

Not getting out of this by excuses, certainly not when he's having a cider thrust into his grasp, a microphone into the other hand, and a boot to the rear getting him up on the podium, he eyes the mike like it might just explode, turning it about a bit, and coughing as it whines with feedback. "Whoaaa, sorry about that!" surprised for a second by the amplification of his own voice, he moves a little on the stage to find a spot where that doesn't happen. "Alright, this one's a healer's nightmare…. uhm.. put it …" leaning to speak to the barstaff, he nods, murmurs in the silence getting a bit long, then the music keys. It's the classic 'Carnival' music Ra-ta-ta-ta, ra-ta-ta-ta, ra-ta-ra-ta-raaaaaaaaaaa-raaaa beginning….

Iniroc walks into the Gemstone Tavern, from the Tunnel Entrance.
Iniroc has arrived.

Diz shakes her head at Tellus, not without a certain level of regret. She lingers over the slowly sinking level of mead in her cup, not even bothering to veil how delighted she is over seeing X'an up on stage. She chuckles at his adventures with the mic before tapping her fingers along with the beginning of the music. Familiar but she can't quite place it…

Tellus frowns while momentarily looking towards Diz. Shoulders slink, her flesh turns pink then she forgoes the drink. She plops down the bits of marks for the drink and wanders off towards the back of the tavern.

Rheffayl busily pours a few drinks once she's been shooed from the stereo knobs. (Her friend the bar tender seems to think X'an's sonic abuse was her fault and has therefore, retaken control of all the shiny buttons.) As the music rattles to life however, she stops to pay attention to X'an's performance.

X'an isn't quite as apt with the hand gestures and pantomiming as the barwench was, but he does add comedic facial expressions. He has one of those serious faces that does tend to make it seem bizarre when he's making it do ridiculous contortions.
"Maverick Prowles had rumbling bowels
That thundered in the night!
They shook the bedrooms all around,
And gave the folks a fright!"
- with a wiggle of his tush and a 'pew' face -
"The doc did call, he was appalled,
When through his stethoscope
He heard the sound of a baying hound
With the acrid smell of smoke!"
He takes a swig of his cider, momentarily surprised at the contents.. not the non-alcoholic variety evidently…

Diz is, unfortunately, oblivious of whatever offense she might've caused Tellus. Seated at the front near the stage, a cup of mead at her elbow, she is watching the stage with rapt and openly amused attention. Why? Well, just listen to what's coming over the sound system! The lyrics chosen by X'an cause a moment of groaning, her hand held over her face, and then it's back to watching— no one would be able to get her to admit it, but she appears to know the lyrics and is mouthing them along with the bronzerider.

Iniroc comes in at the heels of a few others already full of laughter and a bit of the ol' fermented goodness. On his face is a look somber enough to sober a lifelong drunk. With a sigh, Roc hangs his overcoat near the door and pauses to take into stock tonight's offerings. What… the… Oh! He'd forgotten there was a karaoke night scheduled. And is that? Yes, quite: it's the Weyrleader's turn on stage. The sullen face starts to relax into something more like a smile.

Sianne walks into the Gemstone Tavern, from the Tunnel Entrance.
Sianne has arrived.

X'an soldiers on, through the romping music, ignoring the fact he's indulging in a forbidden vice for him. Bad cider. Bad! The subsequent verses, after twirling his microphone a bit, get a leering kind of face, he turns his voice into a BLOODY good immitation of Master healer Chiron's tones…
"It's as I thought
You've been and caught
The western islands flu!
You must not go near dogs I fear
Unless they come near you!"
-and every gesture made after in the next verse is immitated by the weyrleader-
"Poor Maverick cried!
He went cross-eyed
His legs went green and blue!
The doc did hit him with a club
And charged him one and two!"
"And so my friends
This is the end
A moral to the few…."
"Steer well clear of healers!
Or they'll get rid of you!"
Tadaaaaaaaaa. Straightening, X'an coughs grins, lifts his cider to toast the floor, and holds out the microphone toward Rheffayl again, as the Karoake hostess of the moment. "And I'm not coming up again, until I've finished this…"

Rheffayl slaps a hand to her stomach as the lyrics pour from X'an's mouth. The other gripping the bar to keep from falling over. She disintegrates to muted chuckles still trying to listen. But Roc is spotted, so she hurries to the other end of the bar to offer him one of the punch glasses of mead (smelling rather pleasantly of butterscotch and cinnamon), a not so subtle move of placing it directly in his path on the bar. Though she's quick to put her eyes back on stage. This is the sort of thing.. you want to remember. And keep for later use. And it's back to the stage with her, leading with much applause. "Oh take your time. I don't know if we'll be ready for another performance of yours for a bit." Turning a honeyed smile back to the tavern she continues, "Well who's of a mind to follow -that- up hmm?"

Diz is on her feet, applauding the man as he finishes and departs the stage. Good thing for him she has no way of knowing just what's in his glass, hmm? "Well done, X'an!" she calls, forgetting proper manners for once. Surely the breach will be allowed, in a setting such as this one. Then she sinks back into her chair, reaching for her mead and clapping eyes to Iniroc in the same moment. That'll prompt her tossing back what's left in her cup, face twisted in a rather sour look. So much for making it last awhile… "Rheffayl, what else is there safe to drink? Some of the cider, maybe?"

Tellus plops herself down at some table near the door. With no drink in hand she looks sort of bland. A foot is stuck out, underneath the table. A moment's applause for valiant cause then silence from her hands.

Roc's not volunteering, that's for sure—he'll let the crowd's ears rest before his gravelly voice gives a song a go. Besides, he's got better things to do with his time, at present. Like paying a little attention to that there cup of the good stuff Rheffayl so nicely places in his line of vision. A beeline is made, regardless of any toes stepped on or elbows rudely rubbed along the way. "Thank Faranth," he breathes the sigh of relief audibly, and in his pleasure is able to handily ignore anyone's sour stares. Sipping is for pansies; the large man downs half the glass in one tip.

Sianne has walked in at the wrong moment, this song not only stopping her still but has her jaw hitting the floor and her body cringing as if she's been struke. Recovery being the first thing that must be done, Si manages to get to the bar and come away with klah "Please don't tell me that he's been singing like this for very long?" her question comes as she draws up a chair near one of the other candidates.

One of the rounds made of the bar by the staff helping out tonight brings a drink to Tellus' line of sight, rather someone actually DID hear her request for a drink, and has brought her a mead.

Behind the bar, one of the 'tenders eyes Diz then places a mug of cider before her. Not the good stuff. The candidate grade stuff. Rheffayl taps her foot, "What? Not enough drinks in you yet? Where's the backbone in this room?!" She teases playfully. Finally her weedling gets one of the ale soaked regulars to the stage.
Bandy legged and disheveled, he leans heavily on the mic, "Name's Tulio." He barely waits for the music to start before chiming in out of key and just a few beats too fast.
"Death valley queen where have you beeeeeen
Since they crowed.. you in glory
Filled your head with dreams. *Erpppp* Dreams
But it still goes to show in every desert
There's uh.. uh.. a rose
That's bloomin' for all to be seen!" He crumples into incoherence caterwalling for several more minutes until finally stumbling off stage.

X'an hops down from the podium, laughing at himself as he surrenders the mike to Rheffayl, hopping up on a stool by the bar, seemingly relieved of the need to oggle jugs now, having derailed his brain from the one track (or rather two very nice tracts of land) that they were on.

"Oh, it wasn't that bad." Diz's defense of X'an's singing ability is a little more stout than perhaps it should be. "Now -that- is bad," she adds, hooking her thumb towards the stage. She'll flee to the bar to fetch the innocent mug of cider, trading it for the now empty cup of mead. "You warmed the crowd up nicely, X'an. Lovely choice in songs." She'll toast him, now that she's close enough to speak in more conversational tones, and have a swallow from her mug.

Tellus casts a frown as her mead is put down. "Thanks." She says with style that lacks whimsical smile then picks up her mug and drinks.

"No tellin'," Roc leans over and raises, replying to Sianne's complaint with a wry twist on his lips. "I walked in a verse ahead of you and the crowd seemed already on edge, then." His smirk is wavered only a little by Diz's remarks to the contrary, to which he again asides to Sianne: "She's just saying that cause they're related. No offense in the general, Weyrleader," Iniroc is sure to say a little louder, "Good try. Take a tablespoon of sweetner before you go next time, though. Helps make the voice smoother, y'know." The last of his mead is tossed back and a pleasantly warm smile begins to spread across his face.

Sianne slides closer to Roc, in one of the rare shows of attention towards any male as of late "Then it's sure to be a long, and painful night." her faces contorting in one of mock pain "Oh woe of woes I have forgotten my earplugs." Diz's remarks only draw a smile back on to her face "Diz if that wasn't bad..okay almost as bad as that one." eyeing Tulio "Then I'll scrub flight leathers for any rider who wants me to from now until the eggs hatch." though it seems she's in hopes that her comment will go unheard by X'an.

Rheffayl is still she of the excited and non-denominational applause, "Tulio! Fantastic job!" Catching sight of yet another candidate, she shakes a finger towards Sianne, "All you just walking in, don't forget your sample of our newest mead. Even candidates are pitied enough to warrant one glass." Loud and bawdy as ever, her presence in the tavern is horrifically amplified by her attire, a fact she seems to be reveling in. Truly her element.. master of a gaggle of drunks.

"No, no, I have to say that was atrocious. My singing voice isn't in the least bit good… I'm just thankful I'm not entirely off-key." X'an winks down the bar, smirking that seems to indicate he DID hear. "But I think we've got OUR NEXT VOLUNTEER!!!" loud enough for everyone to hear, he slides off the stool, and moves to behind Sianne. "Well volunteered candidate! What're you going to rouse us with?" - Evil. Evil man.

Diz had been doing a good job of ignoring Iniroc's presence but it becomes more difficult when he opens his mouth and speaks. "Must you always be so disagreeable or is being pleasant only a possibility when you're drunk? If that's the case, I wish I could give you my glass of mead. Perhaps Sianne will donate to the cause. Rheffayl?" Anyone? It's charity, of a sort! It's the Get Diz through candidacy without taking a swing at the man who could squish her like a bug fund. "But there you are, Sianne, you can show us how it's done!"

Iniroc claps along with the rest for the new and reluctant recruit to the stage. That warm smile only spreads further across Roc's mildly flushed cheeks now that he's gotten a rise out of Diz. "Might be so, and might be good to make the suggestion to the uppers in charge. We might all get along a little better with a bit more of the stuff in us," he hiccups, polite enough to cover his mouth with a fist at the least. The past few weeks of detox allow even his ample frame to feel a buzz off the single serving of mead. Not that a little more would be passed up. "C'mon, Diz, I know you got a flask of something hidden about you somewhere—hunh?"

Sianne turning to Rheffayl as X'an makes it evident that she's up next "I'll take that sample, weak drinker that I am." Without waiting to be served she bellies right up to the bar and snatches the first mug that ends up infront of her, which happens to be nothing close to the mead that she should have gotten. Turning and saluting the Weyrleader the drink is down rapidly before she's moving to the stool "If I must." Can you say she's taking her own sweet time, since there's a swell flush creeping up her cheeks.

Her throat gets cleared as she starts up is a soft, almost on key, husky voice:

Have you heard
Of that Herd
That tore through the haaaaalll?
Oh what a sight they did maaaaake,
How the floor did quake!

Can't you just see the mess.
Can't you just smell that stench.

Just don't tell the cooks what they did to dinner!

No bow just a grin and Si manages to slide off to her chair.

How anyone could not be having fun right now.. is completely beyond Rheffayl. "This is the best day I've had since I was at that little place on the coast." She proclaims, clapping loudly for Sianne as she escapes. "Now remember, Outside the Weyrbowl or not, Candidates only get the one drink. I told Elara that we candies would be good. Else we get shooed back to the barracks." And that means no more fun! "For every one else.. who's up for another round?!" A cheer goes up from several of those gathered, a short lull as drinks are doled out to appropriate parties.

Tellus mulls over her mead, slips a sip then puts the tankard down. She picks the drink back up and gulps the rest down. While putting the mug down again she gets to her feet then walks out.

Tellus leaves the tavern.
Tellus has left.

It's quite interesting to note what people will say when you're stood right behind them. X'an /had/ come to shoo Sianne to the stage, and she -was- close to the other candidates. He simply arches an eyebrow slowly upward as Iniroc attempts to goad his sister into admitting to an alcohol flask somewhere about her person, and he glances between both of them, murmuring. "Don't make me bonk both your heads together, now /will/ you? Well supplanted Diz… it's up to you to take the mike after poor Sianne there…" the door opening and shutting catches his attention though, in time to see Tellus leave… hmmm…

"I don't know what you're talking about." The look that Diz gives Iniroc could frost the sands of Igen. It's the icy look born and bred into Blooded matriarchs throughout the continent. -That- look, the one meant to be used while looking down one's nose and pursing the lips up so tightly that they go bloodless. Which, admittedly, would work better if her nemesis didn't tower over her and everyone else in the immediate area. Fortunate for all involved, X'an provides a way out. She sweeps by him, offering Sianne an approving nod as she ascends the stairs to the stage.

Sianne flops down into a chair, rubbing a hand over the back of her neck "Loud, loud, loud! Not a quiet place in the weyr." shaking her head as looks upward to watch Diz take the stage "Show them the guards can do more then just help protect the weyr." she cheers while seeking out her klah mug that's seems to have been misplaced at some point over the last several moments "Where’s my klah or something?"

A flurry of clapping, Rheffayl cheers giddily for another of her fellow candidates, hopping down from the stage to mill about the tavern a bit. Checking on people, gathering up empty mugs, all the while being the pure personification of exuberant happiness. A bounce here, a wink there, an inappropriate joke spared for one table. Eventually she spirals back to the bar, trading her mugs for a spot to lean and watch Diz.

Iniroc is in too good a spirits for even the formidable threats of the Weyrleader to dampen his mood—what a stark change from the attitude that came through the doors less than a half-hour ago. Chuckling, he even dares to clap a large hand on X'an's shoulder, "Ah, just teasing the hell out of her, man." It's hard to maintain a high level of respect after seeing the man's off-key, if lustily delivered, show. And in the atmosphere of a tavern, no less. "See how icy it gets her? I swear, Weyrleader, you couldn't pull a needle out of your sister's rear with a team of herdbeasts in the reins. Ah, good try there, Sianne." Roc gleans the name from the others shouting a little laughing encouragement.

X'an is clapped on the shoulder. It doesn't rock him /too/ much, but it does rock him some. He even ignores being called 'man' for the sake of grinning and nodding a little to the man's words. "It's an unfortunate affliction…" he murmurs just for 'Roc's ears, "…none of us is as good at taking what we dish out as we are at giving it." winking, he toasts Sianne as she resettles, grinning at her too, and taking a long drink of the cider stein in his hand. Bad, bad cider. "I might take to the stage again after I've finished this for a prose recital, instead of a song.. my voice is better at that than tunes…."

Diz covers a certain awkwardness in picking up the mic, giving it a quizzical tap to test if it's on— it is— before softly clearing her throat. She's no sterling vocalist but she sings as if experienced and maintains a prim, proper expression— she's playing straight man to the lyrics of the song that follows.

"Listen me hearties, I'll tell ye the tale,
(This story sounds better once you've had some ale)
The finest pirate that ever did sail,
They called him Captain Teal…"

"When gambling, none could rival his luck,
He's daring, he's dashing, he's known for his pluck!
The lasses, they say he's an excellent… conversationalist!
The charming Captain Teal.

When his fine ship is moored at the dock,
A marvel to see, around it they flock,
The mast reminds some of his impressive… vocabulary!
The noble Captain Teal!"

But wait, that's not all…

"His picture will hang in the most hallowed halls,
He's piloted sloops through some harrowing squalls,
Climbs fast to the crow's nest and he never falls,
He's always victorious in duels and in brawls,
He brings home the booty, spectacular hauls!
He's never been beaten, not as he recalls!
His singing's exquisite, and it never galls!
From bar, to bar, he leads men in crawls!
He crashes through gates, and vaults over walls!
He's quick to engage, no he never stalls!
'Cause this is a man with a whole… lot… of… character!
They called him Captain Teal!"

And with that, Diz sinks into a dancer's curtsey before exiting the stage. A little flushed, true, but surely that's from trying to sustain a note. Yeah.

Sianne stands up and claps rather loudly as she lets out several shrill whistles "Now that's a song." looking to X'an "She sounded better then you…by far." beam "And me as well." All happy wappy now, Si bounces back into her chair.
Iniroc quiets as Diz takes up the mic and begins her song. The arch of his eyebrow belies a certain amount of impression. "I guess certain things /aren't/ shared in the family's gene pool, thankfully for us," he murmurs, a chuckle to reward himself for his personal brand of humor. Neither an attempt at a truce nor a sarcastic dig, more likely just a genuine nugget of appreciation, Roc offers Diz a mild congrats and clap.

Rheffayl jogs back up to the stage, shouts of, "Well done! Fine job! Candidate Diz, everyone!" echoing around the tavern. "Well do we have anyone else? Candidate Iniroc hasn't been up here yet.. Surely you're man enough to belt out a lurid rhyme, Roc?" She wags a brow suggestively as she peers at him over the mic, but breaks her pose with another fit of chuckles.
"We have a song, Rheffa, honey!" One of a pair of patrons calls, dragging his friend up onto the stage with him. "I'm Shean and this is m'best mate Daven." He nods to the bar tender to start their song as Rheffayl walks off the stage. A slow solemn tune, the first of the two men begins:
"His eyes they closed and his last breath spoke
He had seen all to be seen
A life once full now an empty vase
Wilt the blossoms on his early grave
Walk Awaaaaaay me boy, Walk awaaay me boy
And by mornin'.. We'll be free
Wipe that golden tear from your mother dear
And raise what's left of the flag for Meeeee-AH!"
The two men proceed to do a bit of jig with each other, linked arms and hopping in circles included as the song picks up energetically. Next trading places, the other taking a verse.
"Then the rosary beads count them: One! Two! Three!"
Each number causing both men to stomp in time *bang bang bang* In fact several other patrons bang on their tables with fervor at the same moment.
"Fell apart as they hit the floor
In our garb of black we must pay respect
To the color we're born to mourn.
Walk away me boy, Walk away-ay me boy
And by mornin'.. We'll be free
Wipe that golden tear from your mother dear
And raise what's left of the flag for Meeeee-AH!"
They complete another jig circuit then bow, patting each other on the back before returning to their seats.

R'al has connected.

X'an seems genuinely surprised by how well Diz performed there, setting his empty cider stein aside, to clap slow and yet with gusto. Once the applause has died down, he glances to the other candidates as they poke holes in his own lyricisms, he can't help but to smile though. 'Tis the way of it that the female of the species is more deadly than the male, with siren song or otherwise. Elbowing Iniroc lightly, he nods at the stage. "Go and give it a go you…"

Phoebe meanders into the Gemstone Tavern, from the Tunnel Entrance.
Phoebe has arrived.

Iniroc spreads his hands in easy capitulation. He seems nonplussed by the elbowing and eyebrow waggling about. "I've merely been letting the crowd marinate on those so bad as to make me look so good—you two lasses not included, of course." Roc's mocking bow and salute to both Diz and Sianne is good-natured rather than the usual scathing he saves for the ex-guard. With a swagger in his hips, he wanders stage-ward and spends a moment murmuring his thanks to Rheffayl for the hospitality, the soundman for his skills plus the request for music, and the last performers for the appropriate crowd-warming. With an all-too-serious look, he begins in an unsurprising deep bass. The pitch is nearly right, the beat a little off:

"I am no king, and I am no lord.
And I am no soldier at arms," said he.
"I am none but a harper, and a very poor harper
That has come hither to wed with thee."

The song is romantic and melancholy, not quite the bawdy lymerick one might have expected from Roc, who continues in all seriousness:

"If you were a lord, you should be my lord.
And the same if you were a thief," said she.
"And if you are a harper, you should be my harper,
For it makes no matter to me, to me,
For it makes no matter to me.

"But what if it prove that I am no harper?
That I lied for your love most monstrously?"
"Why then I'll teach you to play and sing,
For I dearly love a good harp," said she.

His lets the last note die tremulously, the dramatic flair might seem mockery if not for the absolute sincerity with which he sung such a song.

Sianne slowly wobbles to her feet then moves slowly towards the door, leaving all the fun and singing to those who's head isn't spinning about.

Sianne goes home.

X'an's expression looks actually appreciative of that ditty from Iniroc. He doesn't tease or anything, settling onto a bar stool once more, and resting his elbow back on the wood, blinking slow at the seriousness. His applause is in fact rapping his knuckles on the woodwork, watching Sianne stagger out, sozzled on one mug. Oich!

It's hard to pretend as if she's not listening, especially in a place that's been wired for sound. For the first line, Diz keeps her back to the stage. By the third, she's turned to regard the brute up there with open surprise. The second stanza sees her mirroring the slow blinking being done by X'an. And by the time Iniroc's finished, she pays him the supreme compliment of not saying a thing at all— better that than risk a grudging tone of voice when singing his praises for the chosen song. Instead, her eyes roll after Sianne and she comments, "Lightweight." She can be such a cow at times.

Phoebe has been convinced to come, in spite of herself, and therefore edges into the tavern just a bit —pausing to lean against the entryway. When she notices who's singing, her expression goes all sappy and stupid, mouth slightly open to catch flies and eyes widening in a dreamy sort of way. "Oh, isn't he just /perfect/?" she asks of anyone, everyone, whomever.

"Well sung! Ordinarily I'd buy you a good stiff drink but seeing as we're all good little candidates today, it'll have to be cider." Rheffayl offers Iniroc. Phoebe, slack-jawed in the doorway is directed towards the bar with some over the top arm movements, "Come get your taste of mead, girl!" Not as if she needs it or anything. She sidles up to X'an however, giving the rider a stout poke on the shoulder. "I think you've rested enough. How empty is that mug?" She even makes mock to peer over his shoulder at his drink.

X'an tilts his mug in fact, showing it to be empty for Rheffayl's inspection. "I'm fished up and foundered, drunk up and sundered." he murmurs to the buxom one, not falling into the same trap as earlier, by straying his eyes down to the ill-contained bounty… nudging lightly at the woman's elbow. "I'm not singing again… I'll never live it down, but I will recite an ancient, ancient bardic tune…"

Iniroc basks in the smattering of applause—sure, he wasn't half bad, but the majority of the rowdy tavern crowd might have appreciated something a little more lewd. Still, Roc is blind to that fact and merely hears the praises and adorations of his fans. In the case of some, of course, silence is much appreciated as well. He's reluctant to hand over the mic, stammering, "B-b-but I've got some more…" before Rheffayl bustles so busily as to move him offstage. With a sigh, he retreats form the podium to give the Weyrleader another go. Phoebe is seen as Roc heads towards the bar for that mug of virgin cider and he flashes her a grin.

"Love is blind," Diz quips, welcoming Phoebe to the fold with a short gesture of her hand. "Pull up a stool or better yet, get up on stage and grace us with a song, Phoebe." Is this more of the woman's cruelty? Difficult to say. She's starting to look rather glassy-eyed, as if the mead she'd down earlier was finally starting to have an effect. It may well be that the drink has softened her less positive qualities. "After the Weyrleader, of course. X'an's about to share his talent with us a second time."

Growing impatient with the staring, nearly drooling girl, someone pushes Phoebe inside away from the doorway which she has been blocking, sending her stumbling into a group of three young women who're all giggling at Iniroc's performance. "Excuse me, excuse me, sorry!" she quickly apologizes before spinning awkwardly, then scooting rapidly toward the bar. "Mead?" she repeats, having heard Rheffayl's comment, though she's a little caught up in the grin directed at her —go figure. "Why is everyone singing?" Good ole' Phoebe, confused already and she's only been here five minutes tops. "Wuh, who, me? Well, um…" Her lips quirk, nearly a smile.

Rheffayl smirks at the Weyrleader and waves a hand towards the stage, "By all means. Please, lift our weary drunken souls with tales of ancient fantasy." Before she heads back to the microphone, "Our Weyrleader has just told me he's going to recite us a bit of prose. And if you're kind we might get Candidate Phoebe up here just after him. That sound agreeable to all of you?" Rouse the rabble! Then again, has this lot of soggy traveling folk done anything but be kind tonight?

X'an slips off his perch to quietly take the stage this time, no music following his footsteps, cold eyes closed and a peculiarly serious look on his face. His voice when it rings out, carries with a harper's practiced enunciation, lilting the words of the old bardic verse out to the crowd.
"I leaned upon a coppice gate, when frost was spectre grey
And winter's dregs made desolate, the weakening eye of day
The tangled binestems scored the sky, like strings of broken lyres
And all mankind that haunted nigh, had saught their cothold fires."

"The land around me seemed to be, the ages corpse outlean't
The sky its cloudy canopy, the wind its death lament
The ancient pulse of germ and birth, had shrunken hard and dry
And all spirits 'pon the earth, seemed fervourless as I."

"At once a voice arose among, the binestems overhead
In a fullhearted evensong of joy illimited
An ancient bird, frail, gaunt and small, in blast beruffled plume
Had chosen thus to fling his soul upon the growing gloom."

"So little cause for carolings, of such ecstatic sound,
Was written 'pon terrestrial things, afar or nigh around
That I could think, there trembled through his happy goodnight air
Some blessed hope: Whereof he knew, and I was unaware."

That's that, his head bowed, he holds the mike to the next taker, and slips from the stage in silence.
K'ori moves into the Gemstone Tavern, from the Tunnel Entrance.
K'ori has arrived.

Iniroc swallows his newly acquired mug of cider in a gulp. Still excited from his turn at the stage, he veritably bounces in place and lets his fingers quietly tap out the meter to X'an's recital. "That's a good one," he notes to any and sundry. With a gentle nudge at Phoebe's elbow, he supportively murmurs, "It ain't so bad up there… but if you don't want to go, I'll go in your stead." It would seem chivalrous, if not for the obvious fact that Roc is apparently a limelight lover.

Some of the ice has gone out of Diz's spine, leaving her to lean against the bar and brace her chin on a fist. "I think you misjudged your crowd, brother mine," she murmurs, barely loud enough to be heard over the crowd noise. Brows then do the quirky thing over her eyes as a look is turned on Phoebe and her beau. She says nothing but the twitch to her smile projects plenty. Awww, aren't they cute?

Quick to shake her head as she listens to X'an's performance and also tries to pay attention to Iniroc, Phoebe states, "Oh no, I know exactly what to sing…" Well, that's oddly decisive for this particular candidate, but she has her moments, clearly. Beau? Hah, she wishes! Drooooooool.

Rheffayl claps, though the distinct impression of complete non-comprehension is on her face. Not really a poetry sort of girl. Especially not when all she was picking out was death and corpse and such not. "Wasn't that something?" She nods perhaps too fervently, but luckily.. most of the crowd assembled has gotten beyond true listening, and are just confused by the lull in the music. The magic of ale. Tasty tasty brain death. "Let's all give Phoebe a nudge shall we?" More clapping. Happy clapping. Some of the few remaining sober clappers.. Rheffayl is determined to keep up the level of applause.

Phoebe slides off her barstool and wobbles in the direction of the stage, already blushing under that tanned skin of hers. Still, she clambers up there, not requesting any music, and opens her mouth to sing. Nothing comes out at first, but then she takes a deeper breath and begins, eyes half-lidding as her voice lilts, a sweetly purring contralto…

The water is wide, I can't cross o'er
and neither I have wings to fly
give me a boat that can carry two
and both shall row - my love and I

Now love is gentle, and love is kind
the sweetest flower when first it's new
but love grows old, and waxes cold
and fades away like morning dew

There is a ship, she sails the sea
she's loaded deep as deep can be
but not as deep as the love I'm in
I know not how I sink or swim

The water is wide, I can't cross over
and neither I have wings to fly
give me a boat that can carry two
and both shall row - my love and I

and both shall row - my love and I
and both shall row - my love and I

As the last note trails off softly, Phoebe clutches her hands together against her chest and sighs contentedly, then blinks and looks slightly flustered as she ducks her head and skitters off back into the crowd, having done her piece.

K'ori sure picked an interesting time to visit Fort. Or Fort's tavern, at any rate. The greenrider does indeed head in, and promptly blinks. Alright, there's singing going on. And a performance by X'an of all people. Surprise much? Most definitely. His head slowly shakes, a small smile quirking at his lips before he sneaks through toward the bar to get a drink. He settles though into a seat to listen as others go up as well.

X'an slips down onto his seat by the bar again, giving the lovechild of a shrug and a hunch breathing room to the audience, he'll hover over his cider. Hey, when did THAT get filled up again? It doesn't matter. "Misjudged perhaps.. I don't care. That one's been hovering in my brain for a while, Diz." he offers as sweet Phoebe's voice lifts and swells to the sea-shanty, earning a smile on his lips and a glance down the bar… to spot K'ori. "Well, well.. Fort's hospitalities, greenrider. Good to see Igen's riders in Fort's skies and caverns again. And taverns. Caverns.. taverns.."

Iniroc manages another mug of the candidate-proofed cider, this one he sips more slowly. An expression of absolute surprise washes over his face as Phoebe begins, the mug lowers inch by half-inch to the bar. "Well now, who could've saw that one coming?" he mutters with a wry grin on his face. "What a sweet voice, and such a pretty song, Phoebs."

"It was worth the listen, at least. If not entirely appreciated." Diz tinks the side of her mug against the bronzerider's before quieting to regard Phoebe with the same surprise she'd aimed at Iniroc earlier. "Goodness," she echoes, less eloquently. "I think…" And that's when the guard turned candidate is stricken with a very odd look indeed. She stands, leaving the cider, and murmurs something about 'Ray to the stables'. Then she's off for the exit, pace quick.

Phoebe's cheeks are hot and flushed, a beaded line of sweat shining across her brow as she makes her way back toward the bar where a mug awaits her. "Thank you," she mumbles modestly at Iniroc, then hops up onto an empty seat, settling in with a wiggle. "My momma taught it to me." Said a moment later, she blinks at Diz's abrupt departure. "Did I do something wrong?" she asks, watching her backside make for the door.

Diz leaves the tavern.
Diz has left.

K'ori abandons the grip on his drink long enough to send a small wave in X'an's direction once he's seated again. "Well I had a delivery to make, so I figured that I could use a break." He glances over to where the singing had been taking place. "I'd heard something about this setup but I hadn't ever gotten the chance to see anyone doing it."

Rheffayl winds back up to the stage. And it's a bit of a task considering how Phoebe's singing stirred sleepy drunks back into whooping, hollering drunks. "Phoebe! Wasn't that wonderful? Any one else want to dare a go before we degrade to full on drinking in here? These men are getting restless.. for entertainment!" A series of cheers. Seemingly feeding on the energy, Rheffayl bounces a bit, prancing around the stage like some sort of trained pony, making exaggerated gestures and faces, much to the delight of regulars. She's obviously just making an ass of herself, but seems to be having as much fun as anyone else, maybe even more so.

As eager as Roc had been just moments before Phoebe went up to the stage, he seems a little shy now that she's given such a good show. He looks busy with that mug of cider, but spares a moment to assure his fellow candidate. "Diz is just Diz, I don't think you could do anything to ruffle those feathers any more than her just plain waking up on any given day leaves her feathers a ruffle." With a sage nod, he seeks a refill and offers a mug of the simple drink to Phoebe. "We get just one serving of the mead apiece, but all the harmless cider we can drink."

Phoebe takes the offered mug, but blinks oddly at Roc over the edge of it after taking a sip. "Feathers?" It's a figure of speech, but there ain't no figuring when it comes to Phoebe. "I didn't mean to ruffle her… um, feathers," she replies after a moment of thought —at least, she sure looked like she was trying to think. "Is this mead?"

X'an tilts his head to his fleeing sibling, watching her with a blink, a hand gets waved to Phoebe, as if to allieviate her worry. "It wasn't you, lass. That's Svandis for you… that moment of 'Aaah, did I leave something cooking in the claypits?!' look. She does that sometimes." - Honest, that's not just a cover story to cover his sister's odd behaviour, fleeing the tavern, he returns a grin upon K'ori. "It's been relatively successful actually…" nodding to Rheffayl. "I'm sure our buxom barwench of the night wouldn't mind if you took to the stage, K'ori, if you've a mind to give us a ditty, or a wiggle…"

Squeak. Yes, that sound came from K'ori. Honestly, saying things like that while he's trying to swallow? Bad combination. Vaguely widened eyes just peer at X'an a moment. "/Me/?" This tavern should come with a large warning sign. Yes.

Rheffayl hops down from the stage, a bit of sweat clinging to her exposed flesh. "It's a might warm up there hopping around and such." She says with a breathy grin, tapping on the bar, "I'll have my mead now if you don't mind, Marlle." She directs at the bartender, who places a punch glass before her with a nod. "Here's to mead. The sweet nectar I'm not again to touch till after eggs begin to crack. Cheers." She hits the bar once with her fist, picks up the glass, and swallows it all in one gulp. "Beautiful."

Iniroc keeps his hand on the mug he's sliding to Phoebe so that he now slides it away with a sheepish grin on his face, "Nope, that one was cider. I had forgotten you ran up to the stage before you got a chance to get your share of the mead." The extra cider is kept close at hand, but signals to a bartender who is not Rheffayl-who-should-take-a-break-for-once. "Cheers, indeed!" he calls down, watching the barmaid turned candidate take the shot down like a real pro. What do you expect from a tavern employee, after all?

X'an chuckles, shaking his head with a grin to K'ori's squeaky, wide-eyed look. "It's really not so bad, but you're a visitor, you're not /obliged/ to…" winking at the greenrider, he lifts his mug to toast the toast of mead with Rheffayl, bobbing his head in a nod. "Hear, hear." and it occurs. "Oh, K'ori, these good folks.. the ones nearest here anyway, are our candidates.. Rheffayl, former barmaid hereabouts.." nodding to the woman. "And our hostess for the evening." pointing Iniroc and Phoebe out.. "Roc and Feebs…"

The confusion breaks for now as Phoebe lights up, leaning toward Roc to accept the mead offered her, and sipping it contentedly at first —then gulping as if she can't get enough. "Wow, this is really good stuff!" she exclaims, then frowns when she realizes she's just drained the entire glass in a few drinks. "I'm out…"

Iniroc hears his name, swivels around to offer a polite counter wave. "Hey there," he grins, but turns his attention back to the other so named candidate. "Whoa, girl, whoa," Roc laughs heartily. "That's the only glass of /mead/ you get, and trust me—you're bound to feel it right soon, too. It's strong enough that downing just the one serving gave /me/ a bit of a buzz."

"Feeling it, feeling wha…." Phoebe starts to say, but is interrupted by a rather firm hiccup that has her chest bouncing in her bodice. Hiccup. Hiccup. Hiccup. This sets a precedence for future hiccuping, as the poor girl clings to the bar with one hand and presses the other to her diaphragm to try and stop the helpless action. "Oh no, I'm drunk!" Oh noes! She's not really drunk yet, but she's definitely feeling the effects and overreacting too.

K'ori blinks for a moment at X'an, then just pouts..though he does offer a nod to those he's introduced to. "Nice to meet you all.." And with that, he promptly knocks back the rest of the drink, setting the empty glass on the bartop. Hopping onto his feet, he only offers a huff at X'an. "You're gonna be sorry, you know." And off he goes. Hey, can't turn it down, can he? Well he /could/..but the greenrider won't. Nope, he instead, sings.

If you are lost in your way
Deep in an awesome story
Don't be in doubt and stray
Cling to your lonesome folly

Now you're too close to the pain
Let all the rain go further
Come back and kiss me in vain
Mother oh do not bother

Hear the chorus of pain
Taking you back to proper ways
It's so easy to find
If you could remind me

Now you are lost in your way
Deep in an awesome story
So I will find you again
Kiss you for lonesome folly.

The greenrider trails off a little bit, and then quite promptly vacates back to his seat. Oh yes, singing in front of people is quite embarassing. Yes, yes it is. Run away! "Can I have another one?" Yep, refill for the Igen rider's glass.

Rheffayl slumps down onto a bar stool, reclining back against the bar. Absolutely comfortable in her surroundings. Even in that blouse. K'ori is nodded at come introductions and cheerfully applauded at once he returns from he venture to the stage. She's not getting up though. "I do believe.. that it's getting to be a later night that I'd like to think about. Especially considering our early morning tomorrow." She says with a good spirited sigh. "Besides, I think our new friend Rider K'ori did an excellent job wrapping up the evening for us, yes?"

R'al goes home.
R'al has left.

X'an blinks owlishly. "That's /bad/?" He doesn't seem to see it, and motions for K'ori's glass to be refilled with the mead (cinnamony and butterscotchy goodness), smiling and closing his eyes in the hubbub of the tavern, rosy cheeked and relaxed indeed. "I think it's been a success tonight Rheff, and I didn't mention your jugs again after that embarassing start." only he did, just then. "It's an amazing blouse, and I'm sure there's death defying anti-gravity supports in there with them both…" - see, this is why he doesn't drink. "It's really quite the sight."

Iniroc is watching a couple of jugs juggling himself, over here next to a hiccuping and panicking Phoebe. His clapping and shout of support for K'ori is half-hearted at best, eyes never straying from his fellow candidate. Propriety, on some level, is recalled as the Weyrleader's voice brings to the forefront of his mind certain rules and the like. "Ah, uhmm… well, probably not gonna be too bad there, hon. Have a slice of bread with butter, and wash it down with a bit of klah. That'll get the ball rolling on working the mead through your system," Roc assures, all the while trying to look any place else other than Phoebe.

K'ori is indeed embarassed for a few moments after he sits back down, gratefully drinking from his glass. Mm. Cinnamony butterscotch goodness. "I don't think I've ever done that before." The normally somewhat shy greenrider certainly wouldn't normally perform.

Hiccup. Hiccup. Hiccup. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Phoebe tries to clap for K'ori's performance, but she can't seem to manage that and hiccuping at the same time so she eventually just gives up and tries instead to slide off of her stool. She's not really drunk, but definitely a bit wobbly as she gets to her feet. "I… gotta go lay down…" And wake up the entire barracks with her noise, no doubt. A thought strikes her though, and she wobbles vaguely in X'an's direction and asks in an uncertain tone, "I'm not in trouble am I… for having sex, right?"

Rheffayl chuckles, "It's quite the piece of modern machinery, let me tell you. And it took Marlle there yanking his heart out to cinch it up snug enough for me to safely bounce around like I've been." She glances down at her chest and gives a small shimmy. "I think I ought to get a few more of these really. But then I'd have to have someone help me dress every day. Which I'm not opposed to exactly. It'd just get a bit tiresome." She smirks at the Weyrleader, "Unless of course -you'd- like to help me." Tease. /Tease./ "Then I think I could stand to make some longer term arrangements." She grins widely, sassing and playful woman that she is. And then it's time to EYE Phoebe. "Unless your partner is /extremely/ bad, you can't be talking about tonight."

"Neither have I, for what it's worth K'ori.. but it's all in the name of fun, and noone's laughed more than they did at me, for sure. And not for good reasons." directed at the greenrider, X'an's in good cheer regardless, even as Phoebe's asking him such a bizarre question, and Rheffayl's giving him the cheeky sass. "You wouldn't spend much time /in/ your corset if you actually got me to do it up for you, Rheff. Although you would spend quite some time with myself tied awkwardly with my fingers knotted in your laces." - snerk - But this needs addressal. "Phoebe… /when/ did you have sex?"

Iniroc is thankful for the visual break—a sweat was beginning to form on his brow. The Weyrleader and Rheffayls' conversation has moments of audibility over here where he's seated and a look of curious surprise alights his features. Which is promptly dashed into a myriad of confusing and angry expressions as Pheobe stumbles upon them with her question. "/What/?" he can be heard to exclaim from behind the three, the feet of his barstool scrape noisily as he forces his way to standing.

"Well… I was here, and I was eating, and I dropped some food and… and…" Phoebe's eyes clinch up slightly as she gets upset just thinking about the horrible thing she's done! At least, she thinks it's horrible… "…and this guy, I don't even know who he is, touched… my breasts!" The dam breaks, tears rolling down her patchy-shaded cheeks. "I admit it, I had sex… I didn't want to, but I did. You can take me home now. I broke the rules, no sex, no drinking… oh no, I drank too!" Wail, sob, wail! Ah, the stupidity of Phoebe never ceases.

K'ori goes home.
K'ori has left.

Rheffayl almost looks as if she's thinking about it. "Hmm.. having you where you can't run away /and/ tied to me. Strange how I'm not noticing the drawbacks yet.." she mumbles to herself before loosing a light hearted chuckle as she turns back to the bar, "Oh I suppose I need a water, Marlle. Klah'll have me running for a latrine right in the middle of a really nice dream.. I can see it now." Phoebe is merely given a head shake, "Remind me to give you a good talk when we're alone, girl."

Keladry walks into the Gemstone Tavern, from the Tunnel Entrance.
Keladry has arrived.

Well now. Well now /indeed/. Gosh. "Uhm…" X'an straightens his spine up, thoroughly put out and at a loss when Phoebe bursts into tears. "We gave you permission to have one glass of mead here for this event.. you can't be thrown out for something we said you could do, candidate… as for the touching of a breast, that's.. " - how to put things delicately. He casts aside to Rheffayl. HELP. "Speaking of breasts.." mutter murmur mumble "…and one who has abundance of them… /would/ you speak to her about erm.. that?" - because really, a touched boobie doth not a baby make. Back to the wailing one… "Pheobe, calm down. Really! An accidental fondle isn't going to get you in trouble!"

Phoebe's tears do not exactly cease instantaneously, though X'an's assertions do catch her attention as she looks from Iniroc to X'an, then back at Rheffayl, perhaps expecting accusations to be written in their eyes. "B-but… he touched me," she insists, wanting to be absolutely certain she's not in any trouble. Well, this certainly explains why she's been hiding and dragging herself around the weyr like the guilty party she's felt she is. Really, she probably wouldn't have said anything, but the mead is talking…

Ryu walks into the Gemstone Tavern, from the Tunnel Entrance.
Ryu has arrived.

Iniroc obviously feels the need to step in here, and though he's careful to not get too close to the visibly upset candidate he does attempt to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Hon, you didn't /ask/ that knucklehead to touch you. On your part, it's the accident of having a, um, well, being attractive and a man being drunk enough to be that bold." He smirks and confides in the group, "Besides, the guy got taught a bit of a lesson anyways, after you left, Phoebs. And I /swear/ I didn't do it." In fact, speak of the devil…

Rheffayl spins back around to face the Weyrleader and candidate in distress, "Phoebe, dear child, you haven't had sex. You'd defiantly know if you had if this how you get worked up over a little uninvited grab-ass, or chest in this case. If you would like me to.. I'll explain all the necessary parts to sex to you. In private. You really are a very high strung girl you know that?" She says as she sips her water.

"Grab… ass?" Phoebe chooses to echo that particular comment from Rheffayl, blinking at the other girl oddly before suddenly beginning to hiccup again, which only brings a fresh round of tears through frustration. "But momma always said not to let men touch me because that leads to sex and sex to babies and I'm not to have babies —and he /touched/ me!" In Phoebe's mind, that's equivalent to having sex, you see. "I… I don't want to know Rheffayl! I shouldn't have let him touch me in the first place!" With that, and with some considerable decisiveness, Phoebe turns and heads toward the exit, still upset.

"It wasn't your fault, Phoebs," Iniroc calls out, to no avail, at the fleeing candidate's back. Grinding a fist into the other hand, the look on his face is downright threatening. "Damn that man. She's just an innocent, it's not fair for her to get all worked up over something really so ridiculous." Isn't it such chivalrous behavior, on Roc's part? He notes to Rheffayl, "A female type really ought to help her understand certain things, I think. Coming from the likes of me, it might just seem like I'm trying to… well, I don't want her to think anyone /else/ is gonna try to take advantage and the like…"

Ryu arrives just in time to see Phobe dissolve in tears. "Great, not again?" Her face screws up in disgust. "What the heck is the matter with the males around here, anyways?" she grouches. "And for that matter, are we candidates gonna have to hire someone to defend us?" She looks around and spots Iniroc, and heads towards him.

X'an silently facepalms. "She was searched…" he can be heard to mumble. "That means she has it.. but lordie." Dragging his palm down his face, the man cups his jaw, wide-eyed look on the door in the aftermath of Phoebe's passage out of the tavern, he flicks attention around those remaining. The hand drops. "Thank you for that Rheff. If I tried, I would undoubtably screw it up…" he looks annoyed though, probably at the notion of drunken gropage. "Good night other than that little outburst though. Pat yourselves on the back people."

Nimrod has arrived.
Phoebe shrugs as Nimrod takes flight from her shoulder.

Phoebe leaves the tavern.
Phoebe has left.

Let it be known, she tried. Rheffayl is far more of a 'embracing one's youth' sort than a matron though so.. failure wasn't unexpected in this situation. "I suppose I'll have to give it another shot.. later though. I need time to formulate .. a better approach." She dips her head to X'an. "Hopefully she'll be more sensible next time."

Ryu weasels her way in beside Iniroc. "What happened? Some jerk again?" Coins are dropped on the bar. "Something hot to drink, please. This just isn't fair. They can grope us, but if we haul off and slug them back, we get in trouble." A pointed look at X'an makes her opinion of that idea rather clear.

Uh-oh, here comes trouble. Roc plasters a pleasant enough smile on his face, but a wary look angles its way mysteriously towards X'an, then slides back to Ryu. "Hey, no, Phoebs was just telling X'an about what happened the other night." He's quick to add, with a significant eye-wink to the girl, "But it's /all/ under control now. Really. Well, getting there. She's still a bit upset, but only cause she thought /she'd/ be in trouble. Listen, uh, folks, I'm gonna get going. I'm tired as all get out and since I can't have any more to drink—well, it's time to call it a night."

"/Nothing/ happened, other than she had a moment of dissemblance of supposed crime, noone's touched anything that they shouldn't have tonight, candidate Ryu. And I depreciate greatly that you're giving -me- looks for no real reason." X'an says in a cold tone of voice, frowning toward the young woman. "You get in trouble if you take the law of the weyr into your own hands and start and execute fights…" — poor Iniroc's trying to be the circuit breaker when the fuse has already been tripped. Sharding alcohol in his system… "I want to know who it was that thought they could lay hands upon one of our candidates, and I want to know pronto, because that's not on. They'll be out on their heels looking for employment elsewhere faster than you can snap your fingers."

Rheffayl purses her lips slightly in Ryu's direction. "It's hardly X'an's fault if a candidate comes into the Tavern, a place they generally ought not be anyway, and gets touched by some brazen drunk. It is, X'an's area of concern when his Weyr's candidates make animals of themselves in public, Ryu." Say anything specific.. not Rheffayl. That is, until she swings her gaze back to X'an. "It was just some schnockered egg oogler, taking advantage of close quarters and Phoebe spilling food down her chest. Some nameless nothing who's gone by now. Though I'd wager if you -really- wanted to find him.. Ryu'd know what to look for."

"It was when the kitchen's were closed, it was the /only/ reason we were all here, just to get a warm plate," Iniroc's positively backpedalling at this point. And backing away, slowly but surely, to grab his coat and head out the door. "I'm just gonna make sure Phoebe got back to the barracks okay." Any excuse to bow out of the fray, because for /once/ it's not his fault.

Iniroc goes home.
Iniroc has left.

Ryu wrinkles her nose at Rheffayl's comment. "You'd have to find him, first. And you'd have to know their name to report him," she points out, counting on her fingers. "And yeah, we were told we could come here. Bye, Ini. She adds another finger for that, then holds up a fourth. "Plus, there was riders here, and prob'ly weyrstaff too who coulda said something to the guy." Her head swivels to Rheffayl for a thoughtful look, then back to X'an. "And you might as well hear it from me, how did you put it?" Her forehead wrinkles as she tries to remember the words. "I took the law of the weyr into my hands and executed."

X'an's gaze follows Iniroc's hasty retreat, switches back with his head tilting to listen to Rheffayl's account of the goings on, and he nods slowly. "Did he press the issue to the point of assault, or simply did not know his own inebriation levels, candidate Rheffayl? Would you consider that to have been sexual…" - Oh now. Now wait a moment. Swivelling attention like he's on a gyro, X'an's pale gaze fixes on Ryu. "You …. what /exactly/ did you do, candidate Ryu?" - icy cold.

Rheffayl holds a hand out, gesturing at Ryu, "Which is why I said you'd know how to find him. You were the one who permanently damaged him. Might want to look for a man with just one ear is my suggestion." A slow look at X'an then back to Ryu. "Which by the by, I meant to ask, you get sick from ingesting that human flesh and blood off that dirty migrant?" Hey.. Ryu admitted fault first. She wouldn't have spilled other wise. "He was a bit of a weasel but have a quick fondle and enough glowers from myself and Iniroc.. he was making his exit. Ryu thought it necessary to chew his ear off, literally, and then pull out a clump of hair. Roc detached her." She recounts the event dryly, sipping at her water.

"Hey!" Rheffayl gets an annoyed look. "I didn't go that far. He'll have a bruise and teeth marks, that's all." X'an's eyes are met squarely. Ryu's obviously not ashamed of her actions. "Everybody just stood around watching, didn't even try to stop him," she practically spits. "So I gave him something else to think about so Phoebe could get away." Her shoulders are squared, prepared to meet her doom. "I bit him. Once. And that's all I intended to do."

X'an's eyes glint, not taken off of Ryu, listening to Rheffayl's account of what occured, then the girl's own. "When was this?" he waves a hand around at the various areas of the bar, looking to Rheffayl briefly, then back once again. "And I'm not pleased, Ryu. I'm sure you'll have words to say about this, but I'd like -YOU- to tell -ME- why we don't let you fight." - very cool, cold, calm, he is. "From how you understand it."

Rheffayl shakes her head, "Probably about a week ago." She states in a casual way before standing and strolling back behind the bar to get herself a refill on her water.. and get out of firing range. She doesn't have any particular desire to see others hurt or in trouble and thusly, with draws from the main line of conflict.

Ryu lift her eyes to the heavens as if asking for strength. "When the guy groped Phoebe," she replies, obviously wondering why that question even had to be asked. "Candidates should have self control, be mature, set and example, and should never fight as it upsets the dragons." She rattles those off without even having to think about it. Whether that's from simply memorizing or because she truly understands isn't obvious. "AND," she sighs, "dragonriders should stand up for what is right and should stand up for their weyrmates and stand up for those who are in trouble." Which have nothing to do with not fighting, but she seems to think it has to do with why she acted against the rules.

X'an doesn't nod, doesn't shake his head or anysuch thing, flicking a single glance toward Rheffayl, he points a finger at his empty mead stein, a silent indicator. Hopefully the longterm barmaid will notice! Then back to Ryu… "Dragonmen and dragonwomen are a breed apart for a multitude of reasons. Have you ever actually seen a dragon upset, Ryu?" he doesn't bother to wait for her reply, forging on with: "I've seen Wiyaneth upset once. She ripped a building to pieces to get inside. Took the roof clean off. Forty odd meters of gold carnivore, wanting blood on one person because her rider was afraid and upset. My own dragon.. Izelth.. has almost caused a rock cave-in before because I lost my temper, rained destruction on my computer room back at western… he was trying to get inside so he could hurt the person that was making me so livid." sniffing, he looks at the bar, idly fingers a knot of wood. "You're right, we don't let you fight because it upsets the dragons, because fighting makes you angry, makes you livid and enraged. Very, very few people fight cold hearted and clear minded, and those few that do are terrifying to watch. So, do you want a future dragonrider.. hypothetically speaking… to be incapable of exacting punishment and revenge, justice and protection of what is right, at the expense of a persons life? Thirty six meters of bronze dragonflesh, talons and teeth won't let me lash out in anger. Why should we allow any who want the chance to bond do likewise? They'll suffer for it in the end, if they can't choose their battlegrounds."

Rheffayl does indeed fill X'an's mug again. But with a careful flick of her eyes between the two of them, fills it with non-alcoholic cider. Just to be certain. Generally yes, drunks are fun for her, and hell, a handsome drunk is all the better.. but angry yelling and candidate knots don't make for a fun time.. thus.. candidate and X'an grade cider.

A firm nod indicates understanding of X'an's words. "I know what I did was wrong." A glance towards the bar checks to see if her own order for a drink has been filled. "That's why I told you. If I didn't know it was wrong, I wouldn't have, would I?" she shakes her head and her hands go in her pockets. "So do you want me to leave now?" she asks, looking away into the distance.

X'an sighs. Hand reaching for the cider, he drags the stein closer, noticing the contents, Rheffayl gets a flick of a look. And the faintest nod of thanks. Then he's staring at the contents. "No, I don't particularly want you to leave, Ryu. I'm disappointed more than angry at you." turning toward the bar, he cradles both hands around the drink, turning faintly away from the young woman. "You were proud of your actions." — and that's what he leaves it as, with a silence you could cut with a knife.

Rheffayl freezes. Not as slick as we think we are, are we? She exhales a held breath once he nods. She'd like to avoid the yelling directed at herself. She moves a little farther down the bar to start cleaning glasses though, too much barwench at heart to think she could actually leave the tavern when something is going on.

Ryu's shoulders slump in defeat. "I'm NOT proud, and I don't know why you think that," she sighs. "I'm frustrated." A hand rubs her forehead trying to smoothe away wrinkles. "Frustrated that some adult didn't know better regardless that he'd been drinking, frustrated no-one tried to stop him, and most of all, frustrated with myself that I couldn't think of a better way to handle it." She walks away from the bar, then turns back. "I'm not proud," she repeats, then slumps into an empty chair.

The bar's been quite busy tonight, with the karaoke fest that occured earlier. The scent of mead and ale hangs in the air, although most of the canidates have cleared off back to the barracks by now, there's still a couple here. X'an's sat at the bar, cradling a (non-alcoholic) cider, back to Ryu, who just walked off. He turns his head a margin, so the very edge of his eye can be seen by the girl behind him, streak of white hanging down by the side of it, the muscle of his jaw shifts up and down. "Alcohol turns great men into idiots and fools into friends, Ryu. From what Rheffayl indicated, the man was three sheets to the wind, and you couldn't think of any other way to get him humiliated than biting him on the ear? How's about a jug full of salad dressing in the lap, to show just how small his pecker's shrunk infront of a tavern full of people and cronies, sozzled by the drink… it turns into a walnut, let me tell you. You looked at me with defiance in your eyes, about to pick a fight with the weyrleader of the clutch you're standing for, accusing with a look that this is somehow my fault and your restrictions are unfair. It's laudable that you told me, it's not laudable that you behaved in that manner. I am disappointed. If it occured a week ago, that was exactly the time when everyone was crowding in here to get hot meals and the like, so noone would have been in a good frame of mind; that in mind, I'm leaving your punishment as being your own shame. I'm not going to tell Elara, and I trust noone else will." back to the bar, he curls his hands tight around the stein. "Rheffayl, I really would appreciate you having words with Phoebe. She's a lovely girl, but the lights are not all on upstairs… she should have slapped the man's face or somesuch, and the notion she thinks that that touch to her boob is sexual transgression has given me a headache." dry chuckle.

Rheffayl nods, finally remembering that she can flee to the barracks and now has an excuse to do so? Look at her go! "Of course." And promptly tosses her rag under the bar and trots for the door.