N'thei repays Laylia for mending his coat.
RL Date: 2/18/08
IC Date: 5/6/15
Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr(#7315RIJ$)
Large with high ceilings, this cavern's most striking features are the little nooks and crannies along the perimeter and the seemingly dangerous jagged overhang of stalactites just above the hearth. More corners have been made from six, slightly curved walls with half-razed stone blocks rising from the ground as well as outcroppings of hollowed walls, making the layout cumbersome for a private dwelling, however decorative curtain rods and opaque fabrics have been installed to turn each defect in the cavern's shape into its own private corner.
Near the hearth, beneath the stone fixture hanging from the ceilings, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches have been set, the upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and even warmer hues of rich colors for winter. Small tables, fit for up to four people each, litter the landscape, while a wooden bar construction claims the wall where a dolly window to the kitchens is unlatched. The cabinetry installed has glass panels, so the various liquors available are visible.
Ahh evening in a den of iniquity-- bar lined with people, tables busy with drinking and talking and necking, laughter and conversation and the tinkle of glasses raised and clinked. Amid the confusion, N'thei and a trio of other men are still easy to spot by the cluster of people knotted around their table, by women leaning against chairs, by men counting out the pile of marks in the middle of the table. It's a big hand, this round of poker, and N'thei holds his cards flat against the table in front of him, leaned back in his chair, wearing a smile that would take a harper a lifetime to read: vague with confidence but could it just be a bluff, a flicker of doubt twinging bright gray eyes.
While Laylia usually tends to only stop by the Snowasis during the mid-day, since the night is a little riskier - at least by her calculations. She paced around outside the entrance of the room for a short while, peeking in once or twice before she finally gets the gall to walk right in. Her course is direct once her target was found, and in her arms is the completed jacket that didn't quite take the whole sevenday so he needn't actually hunt her down. With him leaned back as he is, he looks down at N'thei and insists, "Sit up so I can put this on the back of your chair."
Always with a drink at hand, N'thei just finished setting it to his lips when Laylia so bluntly intervenes. He holds the glass halfway between his mouth and the table, a merry look to dance around at the three other men tossing in to the obscene amount of money on the table between them. For a second, the conversation falters while no one seems to know what to make of this interruption, then the oldest of the card players erupts into a fit of mocking laughter and throws his cards aside, folded. Promptly, N'thei sits forward to make room between his back and the chair, eyes now settled on Laylia with bright entertainment at her. The older man, still in a gale of laughter, declares to the whole table and its hangers-on, "By the first egg, the girl can't even wait till the hand's over! What I'd give to be the Weyrleader at that."
Laylia blinks as though she's clearly not sure what the issue is here, or why the conversation has stopped. But, when N'thei obliges none the less she sets the heavy jacket on the back of his chair as she intended to do in the first place. There's a faint blush rising to her cheeks, perhaps because of the comment that was made by the old man, but all she offers in response is, "My apologies. I didn't mean to interrupt your game." She offers quite meekly, and drops her hands back at her sides and shimmies off a few steps once her load is relinquished.
There must have been much drinking before now, for Laylia's innocuous comment raises another hoot of laughter around the table, even a giggle from the pretty hanger-on at the older man's chair. While it dies away, N'thei knocks back what's left in his glass and throws his cards toward the pile of marks, says something quietly about folding, that casual while he walks away from a load of money. "I owe you a drink, my lovely," he's saying while he pulls the mended jacket across his shoulders, while he's getting a bemused look and a stream of chuckles from the three he's just left to finish out the game. On his feet, he indicates the bar with an open hand for Laylia, this-way.
Managing to take even a few further steps away from the table while the hooting laughter is commencing, Laylia has a look of utter and complete confusion. What did she say that inspired such laughter, or.. mockery? She frowns a little, and then arches a brow at N'thei as he tosses his cards on the marks, and offers a drink that before she'd insisted upon but now appears more than eager to walk away from. "You did, but it can wait for another time. Isn't it bad that you tossed your cards like that? Aren't some of those your marks?" She asks, pointing at where on the table where the cards were tossed. So far, she seems less than inclined to follow him to the bar, too.
"A fair few." N'thei spares no further glances at the marks, leaves it to the last two in the hand to figure out where the victor lies. Once away, the drunken laughter finds someone else to focus on, anyone else, and leaves the bronzerider hitching his chin to indicate that he'll be going to the bar with or without Laylia. But-- "I'd come if I were you, they'll only keep laughing at you if you stay." He finds a way to pitch the words under the volume of the riotous conversation but over the volume where they'd be lost for Laylia because of it. He's already on his way to the bar, fingers considering the repairs while he walks.
"They'll keep laughing because they're so drunk they'll find anything to laugh at." Laylia retorts, though her slate blue gaze does return to the table and it's laughing occupants. However, her voice doesn't carry as good in the full snowasis, so perhaps he doesn't even hear those words - just sees her idly staring at the table before finally returning her focus to him on his way to the bar and inspecting the repairs. A moment of contemplation ensues, but it's just the bar he's going to, not like a table off in a corner somewhere so she follows along. "Would you have lost anyways?" She asks, so she won't feel responsible for any losses.
One of the perks of being in charge is always getting a seat at the bar. A pair move off toward quieter venues, but not before they give Laylia a blatant once-over, a flavor-of-the-week consideration. Whether or not N'thei saw the look, whether or not he heard Laylia's earlier remark; both are dubious since he acknowledges neither of them. "Matters? --What do you drink?" He must have found satisfaction with the mended jacket, now done picking at it and giving her an expectant half-smile instead.
Laylia notices the once-over, and appears quite uncomfortable the moment after. She smooths her skirt, and then pulls one of the seats so she can sit on it without too much fuss. "I'll have some whiskey since it's what you stole from me last." She says, looking at him and trying to assess by his actions and that half-smile what kind of mood he's going to be in today - it appears as swift as changing direction as the wind itself.
N'thei gives the bartender the simplest of orders, whiskey doubles, holds up his two fingers. Two glasses on their way. "Stole?" He asks the short question with a casual incredulity, with his head cocked while he puts one leg on the barstool and leaves the other foot still on the floor. There's no qualifier for the simple query; by the time there might be more to say, the drinks line up on the counter and he has one for himself, one held daintily on his fingers toward Laylia.
"You took it without asking, it's the same thing as stealing." Laylia assesses of the situation that transpired in the living cavern, and then adds, "Then you took the whole thing off when I asked you not to." She shifts on her chair and since there's not been any comment on the lack of quality in her mending or even a compliment to it - she just leaves it alone as being adequate enough. When the drink arrives, and he offers it to her, she looks at him like he grew a new head before she takes it from him. "You're nicer when you've drank more, I guess?"
N'thei holds a look upon Laylia for a long silent spell, a look that ends with a quirked eyebrow and a blink-and-you'll-miss-it shrug for her take on what transpired with I'daur's whiskey. "You guess." He samples his drink, the corner of his mouth twitched fractionally in response to the burn of whiskey, then; "I'm being polite. It was part of the deal." Hard effort!
Having not yet taken a drink, Laylia looks down in her glass and then finally lifts it to her lips to take a sip. And a sip it is, since it's rather strong alcohol and she is mindful enough of that fact. She shifts so she's turned more towards the bar and less towards him, lest anyone in the bar get it in their mind that her body language suggests more than a quiet drink. "That is true. How honorable of you." She says, quirking a much more pleasant and broad smile in his direction.
"Don't get used to it." Notion dismissed. N'thei lets the silence linger an extra few moments, lets it be filled by little more than the bubbling laughter that continues to erupt around the cavern-- peals, giggles, guffaws, all the sounds of people with liquor and good moods. "Drink faster." He tips his glass to illustrate, gone, and puts it empty on the bar in front of Laylia; anyone not counting would be left to assume she's the one that drained it.
"Of course not." Laylia says, and glances around the room to see how the card game is panning out without the Weyrleader there to presumably take all the profits. She returns her gaze to the company at the bar when he says and illustrates the draining of the drink and then follows suit. The drink empties quickly, but is followed by her covering her mouth and coughing since it was quite a strong drink and she's not used to drinking it so quickly. Watery blue eyes look at N'thei afterwards, as she catches her breath.
It can be noted that N'thei has not so much as glanced at the card game since he left it; his chair has been filled by one of the previous onlookers, and the game continues apace without him. His new game involves refilling Laylia's glass, having beckoned over the bartender and made exchange of marks for a bottle. Maybe it takes silence to maintain politeness, but he says nothing while he reaches to refill her glass. There's a questioning quality to the look that returns hers, not going to pass out already, is she?
Laylia lifts a hand to rub at her eyes, the effects of strong liquor hitting her hard since she doesn't often drink much - and never that quickly. After rubbing her eyes, she notes her glass has been refilled without her asking for it. Her gaze slides from the glass, and to N'thei, then back to it. "I asked for one drink." She says, though she traces her finger across the rim of the newly filled one none the less.
N'thei, pleasant; "It's called generosity." He nods to the glass, drink-up, and simply settles back to his barstool with a curious little smile to the corners of his mouth-- patience, amusement, expectation.
Laylia half closes her eyes as the alcohol from the first drink warms her from the inside, and then shakes her head at the nod. "I really shouldn't." She insists, knowing full well it wouldn't take much of this strong stuff to put her under the table.
"Shouldn't? Or won't?" What is it about this place that incites the whole contributing-to-the-delinquency facet of a person? --N'thei lets the smile stretch slightly, lets it take on a quality of allure that has no business belonging to a person with as many personality defects as he possesses. There it is though, paired with a tempt-yourself lift of one brow.
Laylia may not be quite so young as to fall for those allures so easily, but the liquor did taste good after the burning sensation left - so she downs the next one without the pomp of coughing. She looks up at N'thei afterwards, a slightly defiant expression that dares him to fill up her glass again. Maybe the liquor is already affecting her more than she cares to admit to. "Happy?" She asks.
There's no way this wasn't the obvious result: N'thei answers the dare by filling the glass again with gusto. He tibbles whiskey right out of the bottle, smiles right back at Laylia with a flash of teeth this time. "Always." --He and Laylia are bar-side, the rest of the Snowasis alive with laughter and conversation and card games and general revelry. She's got a full glass, he's got the bottle, not hard to figure out what's been going on in here.
Laylia crosses her legs on the stool, and nudges the glass over towards N'thei to have him refill it. Seems whatever N'thei has been planning so far has gone along hitched just fine. "Liar." She answers in response, and once the glass is full she just holds onto it for when she feels like she can take the sting of the strong liquor once again.
Threading her way through the throng, Shan's clearly on a mission to find someone, one or two wary looks going her way from various riders and then small relief as she passes them by and the chatter once again fills up the gap in her wake. And there at the bar is what she must be seeking, green eyes flicking over her intended target, Laylia and then landing firmly on N'thei, "Trying to corrupt the incorruptible?" a pointed, though dryly amused look going to the alcohol being shared between the two, "You'll be trying to teach her to play cards next."
Truth from the liar; "Occasionally." N'thei holds the bottle up a moment to gauge how much remains, sloshes it by the neck to get a bead on the liquid therein, then lowers it with an impressed look to Laylia. Really though his attention is more on her glass, waiting and waiting. --And there's Shanlee. Trying? "Succeeding, love, succeeding." Laylia knows him little, so it's for Shanlee's benefit alone that a moment must be taken to indicate how very drunk he is himself, a hard thing to pick out save for the lavish warmth in his voice and the way his eyes rest merrily on their subjects.
Laylia lifts the glass to her lips and finishes that next one off without hesitation, and then sets the glass down in front of N'thei. Apparently, once you start her drinking, she's eager enough to continue. At least, until Shanlee's voice is heard and she swivels on the stool to look at her younger sister, then at N'thei, then back at her. "I heard you're the one to take lessons from, at least that's what a bronzerider with the most stunning blue eyes said." She suggests, and while she's not completely sloshed, she's definitely quite liquored up.
Through a smirk, "Mmmmm. Many's the fool that's fallen sway to losing his marks at cards due to an inviting smile and show of skin," this to Laylia and playing cards, "Ah, L'ian," must have been the comment on his eyes that jolts her memory. Turning to N'thei now, "My compliments Weyrleader for tackling such a difficult task," of her sister's state of inebriation, "I see its cost you dearly," to that of his own. A flick of fingers, one of those charming smiles of hers and an empty glass appears compliments of the bartender. Tilting it toward N'thei and his already abused bottle, "You looking to play favorites between sisters, or are you open to equal satisfaction thereof," so innocent that grin.
N'thei refills. It's his purpose. To his credit, he stopped topping off Laylia's glass before that last round, now more a shot in the bottom of her glass than a full cup of whiskey with a smirk at her sloshed state. "No, I started out this way. She catches up fast." Another slosh to test the volume before his fingers beckon for Shanlee's glass, neck of the bottle to rim of the cup for the filling. "I'm open to so many things, love, but you're only asking for a drink. Sadly."
Niena slips in, her expression mildly furtive as she looks around. Not seeing whomever she might have been looking for, she heads to the bar and, to the bartender's disappoinment, orders a mug of klah. She sees a familiar face and heads over to Laylia. Indicating an empty chair by the visitor, she asks "May I?"
Laylia sets the glass down on the bar once it's regained some more liquor in it, but it seems her interest in drinking it is waning as the warmth of the liquor she's drank before it starts to make her drowsy. The banter between the Weyrleader and Weyrsecond is paid little attention to, her gaze transfixed on the glass in her hand for a few long moments before she says anything at all. "Love, huh?" She asks, picking that word out of all the ones her sister and N'thei shared. Her gaze then falls to Niena and a smile is given. "Sure, feel free. I think I might be leaving soon, though."
Shanlee drops an oddly approving look over Laylia, never mind that she appears to be lagging now, "What can I say, she's a Fadden," again she reminds N'thei of that, or is it perhaps warning? Cupping chin in hand as the bronzerider duly obliges with his whiskey the low laughter that spills out is his, the words her sister's, "He dreams such fanciful dreams, doesn't he?" And just to try stirring the pot adds, "How do you think I still have my knot?" as the term of endearment he'd used is repeated back to her, although a soft snort ruins whatever image her words might have brought to mind. Another appearing and addressing her sibling draws attention that way, her chin dropping from hand and lifting a little as Niena's empty arms are eyed suspiciously, "No carpet crawlers tonight?" and somehow makes that sound disdainful of the topic.
N'thei greets Niena with a nod, a simple smile that's pleasant and unlaced, rare thing. To Laylia's question, he clarifies glibly; "I've always been a fan of irony." Slid off the stool too late to offer it to Niena but not too late to indicate it's free for the taking, he reaches to press the bottle toward Shanlee's hands, to impart words in a voice lowered below the general din of the crowded Snowasis.
N'thei mutters to Shanlee, "... passes out,... T'rgo... her... and... things... I... Very... the..."
Niena is already seated but says a polite "Thank you" to N'thei. "No babies tonight -- my shift starts a bit later. I can't imagine bringing one in here even then, though, old wives' tales about rubbing gums aside." The question may or may not have been in jest; Niena has taken it seriously and at face value.
Laylia remains on the stool she's sitting on, holding the glass carefully but not drinking from it anymore. She watches N'thei slide off his stool, and arches a brow at the comment about irony - it's not getting through her addled head right now at any rate. "Shan, mind if I stay with you tonight? I don't mind the resident's caverns so much but I have a feeling I'll wake up with a headache tomorrow without the noise to entice it." She says, and then glances to Niena, "Rubbing gums? I'm afraid I don't get it..."
The weyrsecond offers Laylia a sympathetic nod, "Of course, love. I'll try not to make too much noise when I get in," clearly intent on staying out late that night. Swallowing down a rather big mouthful takes some moments of getting passed as breath inhales sharply and eyes water. Wheezing a little, she just catches N'thei's comment to her a brow rising up slowly in amusement, in liquor husked response, "I'm almost intrigued," almost but not enough to follow him out. Instead she gladly takes possession of his bottle and wiggles fingers in his direction, "Don't fall down the stairs...Sir." grin. Watching for a brief moment as he leaves, a smirk firmly crossing her mouth, she then turns to Niena, "Remind me to hang out here more in future then," wryly given to the nanny.
Neither stagger nor slur to betray him, N'thei dead-pans a reply to Shanlee; "Your vote of confidence is overwhelming as ever." He takes a long glance at the greenrider, drinks in the look of her with more relish than he's shown even the whiskey, the kind of look that would get a man slapped by the prim ones. Then there's a less lascivious smirk for Laylia while she fails to 'get it.' The only just-polite thing he says all night is to Niena: "Have a good night, miss." He strolls out, fingers deft to button his mended jacket.
IC Date: 5/6/15
Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr(#7315RIJ$)
Large with high ceilings, this cavern's most striking features are the little nooks and crannies along the perimeter and the seemingly dangerous jagged overhang of stalactites just above the hearth. More corners have been made from six, slightly curved walls with half-razed stone blocks rising from the ground as well as outcroppings of hollowed walls, making the layout cumbersome for a private dwelling, however decorative curtain rods and opaque fabrics have been installed to turn each defect in the cavern's shape into its own private corner.
Near the hearth, beneath the stone fixture hanging from the ceilings, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches have been set, the upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and even warmer hues of rich colors for winter. Small tables, fit for up to four people each, litter the landscape, while a wooden bar construction claims the wall where a dolly window to the kitchens is unlatched. The cabinetry installed has glass panels, so the various liquors available are visible.
Ahh evening in a den of iniquity-- bar lined with people, tables busy with drinking and talking and necking, laughter and conversation and the tinkle of glasses raised and clinked. Amid the confusion, N'thei and a trio of other men are still easy to spot by the cluster of people knotted around their table, by women leaning against chairs, by men counting out the pile of marks in the middle of the table. It's a big hand, this round of poker, and N'thei holds his cards flat against the table in front of him, leaned back in his chair, wearing a smile that would take a harper a lifetime to read: vague with confidence but could it just be a bluff, a flicker of doubt twinging bright gray eyes.
While Laylia usually tends to only stop by the Snowasis during the mid-day, since the night is a little riskier - at least by her calculations. She paced around outside the entrance of the room for a short while, peeking in once or twice before she finally gets the gall to walk right in. Her course is direct once her target was found, and in her arms is the completed jacket that didn't quite take the whole sevenday so he needn't actually hunt her down. With him leaned back as he is, he looks down at N'thei and insists, "Sit up so I can put this on the back of your chair."
Always with a drink at hand, N'thei just finished setting it to his lips when Laylia so bluntly intervenes. He holds the glass halfway between his mouth and the table, a merry look to dance around at the three other men tossing in to the obscene amount of money on the table between them. For a second, the conversation falters while no one seems to know what to make of this interruption, then the oldest of the card players erupts into a fit of mocking laughter and throws his cards aside, folded. Promptly, N'thei sits forward to make room between his back and the chair, eyes now settled on Laylia with bright entertainment at her. The older man, still in a gale of laughter, declares to the whole table and its hangers-on, "By the first egg, the girl can't even wait till the hand's over! What I'd give to be the Weyrleader at that."
Laylia blinks as though she's clearly not sure what the issue is here, or why the conversation has stopped. But, when N'thei obliges none the less she sets the heavy jacket on the back of his chair as she intended to do in the first place. There's a faint blush rising to her cheeks, perhaps because of the comment that was made by the old man, but all she offers in response is, "My apologies. I didn't mean to interrupt your game." She offers quite meekly, and drops her hands back at her sides and shimmies off a few steps once her load is relinquished.
There must have been much drinking before now, for Laylia's innocuous comment raises another hoot of laughter around the table, even a giggle from the pretty hanger-on at the older man's chair. While it dies away, N'thei knocks back what's left in his glass and throws his cards toward the pile of marks, says something quietly about folding, that casual while he walks away from a load of money. "I owe you a drink, my lovely," he's saying while he pulls the mended jacket across his shoulders, while he's getting a bemused look and a stream of chuckles from the three he's just left to finish out the game. On his feet, he indicates the bar with an open hand for Laylia, this-way.
Managing to take even a few further steps away from the table while the hooting laughter is commencing, Laylia has a look of utter and complete confusion. What did she say that inspired such laughter, or.. mockery? She frowns a little, and then arches a brow at N'thei as he tosses his cards on the marks, and offers a drink that before she'd insisted upon but now appears more than eager to walk away from. "You did, but it can wait for another time. Isn't it bad that you tossed your cards like that? Aren't some of those your marks?" She asks, pointing at where on the table where the cards were tossed. So far, she seems less than inclined to follow him to the bar, too.
"A fair few." N'thei spares no further glances at the marks, leaves it to the last two in the hand to figure out where the victor lies. Once away, the drunken laughter finds someone else to focus on, anyone else, and leaves the bronzerider hitching his chin to indicate that he'll be going to the bar with or without Laylia. But-- "I'd come if I were you, they'll only keep laughing at you if you stay." He finds a way to pitch the words under the volume of the riotous conversation but over the volume where they'd be lost for Laylia because of it. He's already on his way to the bar, fingers considering the repairs while he walks.
"They'll keep laughing because they're so drunk they'll find anything to laugh at." Laylia retorts, though her slate blue gaze does return to the table and it's laughing occupants. However, her voice doesn't carry as good in the full snowasis, so perhaps he doesn't even hear those words - just sees her idly staring at the table before finally returning her focus to him on his way to the bar and inspecting the repairs. A moment of contemplation ensues, but it's just the bar he's going to, not like a table off in a corner somewhere so she follows along. "Would you have lost anyways?" She asks, so she won't feel responsible for any losses.
One of the perks of being in charge is always getting a seat at the bar. A pair move off toward quieter venues, but not before they give Laylia a blatant once-over, a flavor-of-the-week consideration. Whether or not N'thei saw the look, whether or not he heard Laylia's earlier remark; both are dubious since he acknowledges neither of them. "Matters? --What do you drink?" He must have found satisfaction with the mended jacket, now done picking at it and giving her an expectant half-smile instead.
Laylia notices the once-over, and appears quite uncomfortable the moment after. She smooths her skirt, and then pulls one of the seats so she can sit on it without too much fuss. "I'll have some whiskey since it's what you stole from me last." She says, looking at him and trying to assess by his actions and that half-smile what kind of mood he's going to be in today - it appears as swift as changing direction as the wind itself.
N'thei gives the bartender the simplest of orders, whiskey doubles, holds up his two fingers. Two glasses on their way. "Stole?" He asks the short question with a casual incredulity, with his head cocked while he puts one leg on the barstool and leaves the other foot still on the floor. There's no qualifier for the simple query; by the time there might be more to say, the drinks line up on the counter and he has one for himself, one held daintily on his fingers toward Laylia.
"You took it without asking, it's the same thing as stealing." Laylia assesses of the situation that transpired in the living cavern, and then adds, "Then you took the whole thing off when I asked you not to." She shifts on her chair and since there's not been any comment on the lack of quality in her mending or even a compliment to it - she just leaves it alone as being adequate enough. When the drink arrives, and he offers it to her, she looks at him like he grew a new head before she takes it from him. "You're nicer when you've drank more, I guess?"
N'thei holds a look upon Laylia for a long silent spell, a look that ends with a quirked eyebrow and a blink-and-you'll-miss-it shrug for her take on what transpired with I'daur's whiskey. "You guess." He samples his drink, the corner of his mouth twitched fractionally in response to the burn of whiskey, then; "I'm being polite. It was part of the deal." Hard effort!
Having not yet taken a drink, Laylia looks down in her glass and then finally lifts it to her lips to take a sip. And a sip it is, since it's rather strong alcohol and she is mindful enough of that fact. She shifts so she's turned more towards the bar and less towards him, lest anyone in the bar get it in their mind that her body language suggests more than a quiet drink. "That is true. How honorable of you." She says, quirking a much more pleasant and broad smile in his direction.
"Don't get used to it." Notion dismissed. N'thei lets the silence linger an extra few moments, lets it be filled by little more than the bubbling laughter that continues to erupt around the cavern-- peals, giggles, guffaws, all the sounds of people with liquor and good moods. "Drink faster." He tips his glass to illustrate, gone, and puts it empty on the bar in front of Laylia; anyone not counting would be left to assume she's the one that drained it.
"Of course not." Laylia says, and glances around the room to see how the card game is panning out without the Weyrleader there to presumably take all the profits. She returns her gaze to the company at the bar when he says and illustrates the draining of the drink and then follows suit. The drink empties quickly, but is followed by her covering her mouth and coughing since it was quite a strong drink and she's not used to drinking it so quickly. Watery blue eyes look at N'thei afterwards, as she catches her breath.
It can be noted that N'thei has not so much as glanced at the card game since he left it; his chair has been filled by one of the previous onlookers, and the game continues apace without him. His new game involves refilling Laylia's glass, having beckoned over the bartender and made exchange of marks for a bottle. Maybe it takes silence to maintain politeness, but he says nothing while he reaches to refill her glass. There's a questioning quality to the look that returns hers, not going to pass out already, is she?
Laylia lifts a hand to rub at her eyes, the effects of strong liquor hitting her hard since she doesn't often drink much - and never that quickly. After rubbing her eyes, she notes her glass has been refilled without her asking for it. Her gaze slides from the glass, and to N'thei, then back to it. "I asked for one drink." She says, though she traces her finger across the rim of the newly filled one none the less.
N'thei, pleasant; "It's called generosity." He nods to the glass, drink-up, and simply settles back to his barstool with a curious little smile to the corners of his mouth-- patience, amusement, expectation.
Laylia half closes her eyes as the alcohol from the first drink warms her from the inside, and then shakes her head at the nod. "I really shouldn't." She insists, knowing full well it wouldn't take much of this strong stuff to put her under the table.
"Shouldn't? Or won't?" What is it about this place that incites the whole contributing-to-the-delinquency facet of a person? --N'thei lets the smile stretch slightly, lets it take on a quality of allure that has no business belonging to a person with as many personality defects as he possesses. There it is though, paired with a tempt-yourself lift of one brow.
Laylia may not be quite so young as to fall for those allures so easily, but the liquor did taste good after the burning sensation left - so she downs the next one without the pomp of coughing. She looks up at N'thei afterwards, a slightly defiant expression that dares him to fill up her glass again. Maybe the liquor is already affecting her more than she cares to admit to. "Happy?" She asks.
There's no way this wasn't the obvious result: N'thei answers the dare by filling the glass again with gusto. He tibbles whiskey right out of the bottle, smiles right back at Laylia with a flash of teeth this time. "Always." --He and Laylia are bar-side, the rest of the Snowasis alive with laughter and conversation and card games and general revelry. She's got a full glass, he's got the bottle, not hard to figure out what's been going on in here.
Laylia crosses her legs on the stool, and nudges the glass over towards N'thei to have him refill it. Seems whatever N'thei has been planning so far has gone along hitched just fine. "Liar." She answers in response, and once the glass is full she just holds onto it for when she feels like she can take the sting of the strong liquor once again.
Threading her way through the throng, Shan's clearly on a mission to find someone, one or two wary looks going her way from various riders and then small relief as she passes them by and the chatter once again fills up the gap in her wake. And there at the bar is what she must be seeking, green eyes flicking over her intended target, Laylia and then landing firmly on N'thei, "Trying to corrupt the incorruptible?" a pointed, though dryly amused look going to the alcohol being shared between the two, "You'll be trying to teach her to play cards next."
Truth from the liar; "Occasionally." N'thei holds the bottle up a moment to gauge how much remains, sloshes it by the neck to get a bead on the liquid therein, then lowers it with an impressed look to Laylia. Really though his attention is more on her glass, waiting and waiting. --And there's Shanlee. Trying? "Succeeding, love, succeeding." Laylia knows him little, so it's for Shanlee's benefit alone that a moment must be taken to indicate how very drunk he is himself, a hard thing to pick out save for the lavish warmth in his voice and the way his eyes rest merrily on their subjects.
Laylia lifts the glass to her lips and finishes that next one off without hesitation, and then sets the glass down in front of N'thei. Apparently, once you start her drinking, she's eager enough to continue. At least, until Shanlee's voice is heard and she swivels on the stool to look at her younger sister, then at N'thei, then back at her. "I heard you're the one to take lessons from, at least that's what a bronzerider with the most stunning blue eyes said." She suggests, and while she's not completely sloshed, she's definitely quite liquored up.
Through a smirk, "Mmmmm. Many's the fool that's fallen sway to losing his marks at cards due to an inviting smile and show of skin," this to Laylia and playing cards, "Ah, L'ian," must have been the comment on his eyes that jolts her memory. Turning to N'thei now, "My compliments Weyrleader for tackling such a difficult task," of her sister's state of inebriation, "I see its cost you dearly," to that of his own. A flick of fingers, one of those charming smiles of hers and an empty glass appears compliments of the bartender. Tilting it toward N'thei and his already abused bottle, "You looking to play favorites between sisters, or are you open to equal satisfaction thereof," so innocent that grin.
N'thei refills. It's his purpose. To his credit, he stopped topping off Laylia's glass before that last round, now more a shot in the bottom of her glass than a full cup of whiskey with a smirk at her sloshed state. "No, I started out this way. She catches up fast." Another slosh to test the volume before his fingers beckon for Shanlee's glass, neck of the bottle to rim of the cup for the filling. "I'm open to so many things, love, but you're only asking for a drink. Sadly."
Niena slips in, her expression mildly furtive as she looks around. Not seeing whomever she might have been looking for, she heads to the bar and, to the bartender's disappoinment, orders a mug of klah. She sees a familiar face and heads over to Laylia. Indicating an empty chair by the visitor, she asks "May I?"
Laylia sets the glass down on the bar once it's regained some more liquor in it, but it seems her interest in drinking it is waning as the warmth of the liquor she's drank before it starts to make her drowsy. The banter between the Weyrleader and Weyrsecond is paid little attention to, her gaze transfixed on the glass in her hand for a few long moments before she says anything at all. "Love, huh?" She asks, picking that word out of all the ones her sister and N'thei shared. Her gaze then falls to Niena and a smile is given. "Sure, feel free. I think I might be leaving soon, though."
Shanlee drops an oddly approving look over Laylia, never mind that she appears to be lagging now, "What can I say, she's a Fadden," again she reminds N'thei of that, or is it perhaps warning? Cupping chin in hand as the bronzerider duly obliges with his whiskey the low laughter that spills out is his, the words her sister's, "He dreams such fanciful dreams, doesn't he?" And just to try stirring the pot adds, "How do you think I still have my knot?" as the term of endearment he'd used is repeated back to her, although a soft snort ruins whatever image her words might have brought to mind. Another appearing and addressing her sibling draws attention that way, her chin dropping from hand and lifting a little as Niena's empty arms are eyed suspiciously, "No carpet crawlers tonight?" and somehow makes that sound disdainful of the topic.
N'thei greets Niena with a nod, a simple smile that's pleasant and unlaced, rare thing. To Laylia's question, he clarifies glibly; "I've always been a fan of irony." Slid off the stool too late to offer it to Niena but not too late to indicate it's free for the taking, he reaches to press the bottle toward Shanlee's hands, to impart words in a voice lowered below the general din of the crowded Snowasis.
N'thei mutters to Shanlee, "... passes out,... T'rgo... her... and... things... I... Very... the..."
Niena is already seated but says a polite "Thank you" to N'thei. "No babies tonight -- my shift starts a bit later. I can't imagine bringing one in here even then, though, old wives' tales about rubbing gums aside." The question may or may not have been in jest; Niena has taken it seriously and at face value.
Laylia remains on the stool she's sitting on, holding the glass carefully but not drinking from it anymore. She watches N'thei slide off his stool, and arches a brow at the comment about irony - it's not getting through her addled head right now at any rate. "Shan, mind if I stay with you tonight? I don't mind the resident's caverns so much but I have a feeling I'll wake up with a headache tomorrow without the noise to entice it." She says, and then glances to Niena, "Rubbing gums? I'm afraid I don't get it..."
The weyrsecond offers Laylia a sympathetic nod, "Of course, love. I'll try not to make too much noise when I get in," clearly intent on staying out late that night. Swallowing down a rather big mouthful takes some moments of getting passed as breath inhales sharply and eyes water. Wheezing a little, she just catches N'thei's comment to her a brow rising up slowly in amusement, in liquor husked response, "I'm almost intrigued," almost but not enough to follow him out. Instead she gladly takes possession of his bottle and wiggles fingers in his direction, "Don't fall down the stairs...Sir." grin. Watching for a brief moment as he leaves, a smirk firmly crossing her mouth, she then turns to Niena, "Remind me to hang out here more in future then," wryly given to the nanny.
Neither stagger nor slur to betray him, N'thei dead-pans a reply to Shanlee; "Your vote of confidence is overwhelming as ever." He takes a long glance at the greenrider, drinks in the look of her with more relish than he's shown even the whiskey, the kind of look that would get a man slapped by the prim ones. Then there's a less lascivious smirk for Laylia while she fails to 'get it.' The only just-polite thing he says all night is to Niena: "Have a good night, miss." He strolls out, fingers deft to button his mended jacket.