Log: Grand Opening! (Part 2)
Summary: The Lucky Seven is now open for business! Part 2!
Location: The Lucky Seven, Ista Weyr
Date: 6-26-09
June, leaning on the patron side of the bar with a beer curled in one hand, is tied up in conversation with Lachai, looking all manner of out of sorts in this setting. Sailors monopolize one table with a series of chugging contests-- a tournament, some would say-- while the rest of the tavern-goers-- their number growing by the minute-- mill around, talk, laugh, sing, and generally enjoy themselves. "No, not really. I'm sort of the owner in that the Weyr officially owns it. I run it, you could say." She casts a glance over her shoulder, toward both the bartender, Ruesse, he beckons and toward Valenia, now link-armed with Danta and heading stair-ward. "My sister," she confirms for him. "They're all my sisters," she tells him, but then leans in to add in a jokingly conspiratorial air, "in a loose sense, really." Then, louder. "Was there something you needed?" She does, after all, work here.
Dressed for the event, that is to say wearing much finer things than he normally might, K'aus comes in through those open doors with an attention for details. Like the sailors, hard to miss no matter how new you are to the scene. His lip curling, the brownrider ventures in further and approaches the bar to lean on it next to June and look first at her, blankly, then at Lachai. "Are you old enough to be here?" By the way: hi.
"A loose sense..." Lachai continues to repeat phrases, hoping, perhaps, that enough of a question is in them to spark an answer. He watches Valenia head away up the stairs, turning back only because someone else has shown up. The newly arrived rider is greeted, in turn, with a raised eyebrow. "Um, hello. And, yes. Was that really your greatest concern?" Look, he's even holding a glass of some sort of green-colored drink. Not that it looks like he's taken very much out of it.
Eventually visiting with her cousin ends and Javeri wanders back inside. Her glass is empty so she heads for the bar, but she doesn't seem to be in much of a rush. There's people to dodge, or avoid, and every now and again she stops to say hi including the table of sailors although she doesn't stay long. When she winds up at the bar there's a few people between her and the people she was speaking to earlier so she just sets down her empty glass and fishes for her marks.
June's angle in her lean is open enough to notice when, through the interest, comes a certain brownrider of note, but closed enough so that when he slips into that spot next to her, she can ignore him soundly in preference for the conversation. That is, until he barges right into said conversation. She turns her head to view him, just there at the corner of her gaze, and deals him a smooth, friendly, "Hi there, brownrider." She turns a smile back to Lachai, soothing-- nothing to get riled up over here, see?-- and then abandons her lean altogether, altering her step to open up the circle for the newcomer. On the subject of age, she stays quiet, sticking simply to another sip from her bottle.
"Was it a concern?" K'aus pins Lachai under his steady dark stare for a moment that runs perhaps uncomfortably long and says to June without actually looking at her, "Congratulations on the place." Like he's never been here before ever. "Your patrons seem overjoyed." Finally he does look elsewhere, over at the sailors again. Then a sweeping glance for the rest of those crowded in. "You must be thrilled." So enthused.
Lachai is easily discomforted, so, yes, the stare's a little long and a little dark. "You made it the first thing you said..." He explains, without much spirit to it, and very quickly looking to return June's smile instead. Shifting hesitantly still, he finally turns to the bar instead and gets to the slowly going drink. Unfortunately, he can still hear K'aus and that means a low snort into his glass at the less-than excited proclamations.
"Oh, goodness, you're still here?" Javeri says when she catches sight of Lachai. A tiny bit of maneuvering gets her close enough to speak without having to yell. "Which is not a bad thing. And it gives me a chance to apologize for running off. I've not seen my cousin in turns. And hello again to you, June." Since she doesn't know the other man she doesn't offer a hello.
While K'aus is pinning Lachai, June is pinning K'aus, though her gaze is less obviously hostile; her pleasant, hostess smile is still going strong and she has an easy, relaxed stance. "Thank you," she replies to K'aus' enthusiasm in that same smooth tone, "I am." Her gaze slides down the bar and she notes Javeri approaching with (real) eagerness in her voice. "Look who's back. Lachai just filled me in on the leather... slings, I guess you'd call them. It sounds like a very easy solution." So she's back to ignoring K'aus again, her shoulders ever so slightly closing him out of their talk. The poor brownrider gets some attention, though. "What can I get you?" It's Petra, dressed in dark topaz and a plain apron, the other sister manning bar at this hour.
Lachai's snorting is unfortunate for him; he's under K'aus's scrutiny again. The brownrider's brow furrows over it, as if the kid's done him and society some great offense. And since Javeri and June are both going to ignore him, all the more for the guy in glasses. Until Petra approaches, unseen until she speaks and his eyes are drawn to her. And then over her. "Something strong. On ice," he replies somewhere around her hips. And, meeting her eyes, he leans on an elbow and adds, "Surprise me."
Blissfully, there is someone else for Lachai to be paying attention to. He adjusts his stance, never having taken to an actual seat at the bar, to better face Javeri at her return. "I'm still here. June and I were just..." He trails off to allow June's own explanation to go unhindered, then adds, "I'm glad you two got to talk, then. Everything's, ah, going well- there was that weyrmate before...?" Though he means only to look around the room, once he casts a glance over his shoulder, the young man only spots K'aus and he looks immediately back even though the rider's attention is now elsewhere.
With a smile Javeri nods to June. "I think it will work. I'll have to try it of course, but I just cannot get the pots thin enough to actually transport well. And if they're more sturdy storing them on the ship will be no problem at all." "Can I get another green thing please," she calls out before Petra can get away. "Does it have a name?" she asks June. "I swear all I drink these days is green alcoholic drinks. But that's fine I suppose. Even if it must be unlucky." Looking at Lachai she nearly pats his arm, but stops herself. "Don't worry about him. He's a jerk." Well, he has a reputation even if she doesn't know him herself. "But, my cousin is fine, yes. He's getting married and had to tell me. The poor dear. Married. And the weyrmates were fine. They argued a bit and then went home to make up. It's pretty typical for them. Are you having fun?"
Petra is solid under K'aus' wandering eyes, her poise all muscle and unapologizing for it. She has an eyebrow lifted for him when his gaze comes up again, not at all a reproach. A beat and then, "I like the way you drink." If she realizes her play on words, she doesn't indicate it, her mouth the same thin line it was when she came up. She turns to find him a glass, some ice, and a surprise amber liquid. A scotch, he'll find when he tastes; cheap, but scotch. "You know June?" she asks as she sets it down for him, lifting her chin in her sister's direction.
Ruesse swings around behind Petra, hearing Javeri's order as she goes to get a new beer for someone else, a finger raised to hold her off a minute. "The name of the place counteracts all of that, don't worry," June replies lightheartedly, turning her eyes down to regard the drink. "It doesn't have a name, yet. None of us can think of one that's good enough. And not... sappy." She gives half a glance toward the jerk when he's brought up in conversation again, but she doesn't comment herself.
When you're K'aus, you're used to people pretending you weren't there or wishing you hadn't happened to them. You're also used to not really paying attention to people who aren't gorgeous and strong and looking at you like Petra's looking at him right now. The buzz of conversation happens around him and he largely ignores it, except to turn his head and give Javeri a mild, blank look. "No," he answers June's 'sister' before he actually looks at her again, but when he adds, "but I don't take it personally," he is. A sip, then, "Fun concept, seven sisters who look nothing alike. Your mother must have had a few exciting years earlier." With absolutely zero tact.
Checklist: Lachai is now safe. "I'm not worrying about it..." He tells Javeri, totally believable. Uh huh. "Married?" The eyebrows bounce, and he contemplates the green of his drink. "Have you ever met the to-be? And, ah, well, June was being very nice and we were talking about the job, so." He gives a nod as if confirming that this was, indeed, fun. The mentioned June is glanced at, as well, "No name? That seems like that makes it rather inconvenient for ordering, or do you just hand it out by recommendation?" He taps the glass thoughtfully, "Huh, well, worked on me..."
"Thanks!" Javeri says happily when her drink is acknowledged. "A good name? I'm terrible with names. Sooz named the ship. We were being completely lazy and that's how she came up with it." She smiles again widely and snaps her fingers. "Just call it The Green One. Even a drunk can remember that." Which is not an indication of her state. Probably. "I've not met her. He wants to me to tomorrow. I suppose I shall. It would be rude not to after all."
"Valenia and June look alike," Petra answers him helpfully, though she's nearly as blank as he is when she does so. The arch of her brows saves her from being completely so. "But it's mostly a figure of speech. No one seems to question it too much, though." Except him. Leisurely, she takes a bottle of beer from underneath the bar and uncaps it, handing it over to an older dock worker who wordlessly asked for one. It's a good thing she did, too, because Ruesse is busy mixing Javeri another, which is handed over moments later, in addition for a request for payment.
June nods at Lachai, considering the green-filled glass over a drink from her bottle. "It's the first night, so most things are on recommendation. We have one named," and she holds up a finger to indicate just how many. In case they're slow, or need help or something. "The Unlucky Seven. Seven kinds of alcohol." Her lips curve up with the cleverness of it. "The Green One," she tries out, her mind working over it as much as her mouth. "It's interesting. Simple. We may see how it works."
For 'figure of speech' Petra earns one of K'aus's long stares. It's like he's waiting for her or the concept in question to make sense. Whether it eventually does or not is lost in the void where a facial expression should be. "That'd make you not Valenia. Or you speak in the third person." Which leads him to regard her, this dark-haired sister, over his drink when he takes one. Process of elimination. With an ear to the talk happening over there, he chimes in, "Stupid name," out of the corner of his mouth, then leans on the bar on both elbows to tilt his head at the bartender and ask, "So do they have you chained to this thing?"
Lachai breathes a noise of understanding, "First night. That makes sense." Which is gone just as fast. "Although, you didn't try to name them before opening? I guess that seems like one of things you'd want to have ready." Staring thus far quite steadily at the bar, he shifts a brief nod to June. "Oh, you know, because I'm, ah, the expert on bars. Anyway, I'm sure something'll come up and, yes, that seems like a good thing to do, Javeri. She'll be family soon and all that."
From her pocket comes a mark to hand over in payment. Before she lets it go she asks Lachai, "Did you want something else? I don't think you liked that too much if you're still on your first. An honest mark given me by my cousin will pay for it promise. No ill gotten gains from other men. Although I suppose S'tan's were not ill gotten. Still, if you don't like it you should have something else. The whole fun in going to a new place is exploring the drink menu. I guess if you don't drink alcohol you can't do as much. Why don't you drink?" As soon as the question's out though she looks at June. "If you think it's horrid that's fine. I'm not going to weep into my glass." The brownrider's comment is ignored or just unheard.
"No. I'd be Petra," she tells him while doing a one-two snik-snik uncapping of two beers, passing them on to a baby-faced journeyman harper who takes both. "Only for the next hour or so," she shares, taking a practiced look for any further orders before taking a moment to lean on her side of the bar, closing them in. She pierces him with her dark eyes. "Unless I find a better way to make money. Speaking of, you gonna pay me for that thing?" Her eyes skip down to his scotch, just a darted glance before they return.
June regards Lachai with a longer gaze for his criticism of her drink-naming process, but she doesn't seem all that phased by it, if her smile is any indication. Her gaze returns to Javeri and she laughs lightly over the joke about ill-gotten marks. "Oh, it has potential," she tells her about the name, waving a hand dismissively, "I'll have to run it by the rest, though. Yes, why don't you drink?" June re-poses the question to Lachai, dropping a look to his near-untouched glass, but returning her curious gaze to him, waiting out his answer.
There's something about the way K'aus wrinkles his nose that suggests maybe he didn't necessarily want her name that quickly. And now that he has it he doesn't repeat it. His mouth relaxes up into a near-smile, tolerant for being pierced so, and maybe a little bit amused by the concept of, ah, occupying her. The drink is given further attention by him, first when he looks down at it and next when he takes more from it. "What do you do to me if I don't?" he wonders, even while he's searching one-handed for marks in his pocket.
"No, I'm fine," Lachai quickly replies, "I've still got-" Oh, so she noticed. "/It's/ fine. I've just been, ah, talking and, uh." His gaze darts between both women, but they are equally closing in with the same question. He pauses, then, staring at the ceiling and very obviously thinking it over - which would generally mean someone very bad at it was digging for an excuse, but with him, who knows. "I like to... stay clear-headed. I don't do well... drinking." He levels off a hand and jabs it decisively through the air, so having said. "So, is this a sister's favorite drink?" He tries deflecting, lifting the thing and even taking a sip to get them off the case. "Maybe each can name, ah, one, no. I suppose there might be overlap."
"Everything has potential," Javeri replies with a laugh. "Even the tiniest grain of sand or drop of water. It's all connected together if you look." Philosophy. It's a good guess who it came from. But then she's listening to Lachai as she lets go her mark for payment and collects her drink. "Oh, that makes sense. Some people have alcohol go farther and faster than others. I shall not be a pest about it I assure you. It's completely rude after all. But there's excellent juice combinations. You should find a favorite and if it looks like it might be alcoholic people will leave you be. I do that some nights when I don't feel like drinking. Granted it's not that many nights."
A round of cheering comes from the table of sailors, a victor finally standing out from the rest, though at this point he's more hanging from his compatriot's shoulder than standing at all. Petra, bartender of the hour, gives K'aus a little flattening of her mouth, an expression that's not all that flattering on her severe features. "Unpleasant things," she says, and it's debatable whether it was meant as a dry joke or a quite frank answer. It's sure looks like she could do some damage if she tried. Her hand flips open, sitting palm up on the space of bar between them.
June's eyebrows skip upward a few degrees while Lachai fishes for his answer, and she passes Javeri a short, shrugging look. "I see," she says when that answer is finally produced, tilting a sip of beer into her mouth. "Yeah, you see, if we let Valenia decide any of the names, they'd end up being... Green Fling, or something equally..." Well, she'll just say it. "... dumb." Valenia herself is nowhere to be seen now, but Danta, the sister she was last seen with, is now standing sentry at the top of the stairs, leaning on the rail with a beer held in both hands.
"Easy there, sweetheart, Daddy's got your sugar right... here." And K'aus comes up with the correct payment for a drink like his, maybe he knows right from past bar experience-- duh. And he almost gives it right over too, brings it tantalizingly close to that open palm, but just shy of it he jerks it away and holds it up at eye level between thumb and forefinger. It probably isn't a good idea to tease people like Petra, but he's always done things that normal people probably wouldn't do.
Once again, Lachai only lifts his chin and makes a 'hm' noise to suggest he knows what June is getting at. Then again, the woman finishes her thought, too, he adds uselessly, "I see." Then, more dryly, "Though once you're drunk, it hardly seems to matter... Not the point, though. I get it." And he does, and he sounds like he does. Back to Javeri, it's time for a soft laugh, though it's not exactly an easy-going sound as it should be. "I'm not usually /in/ these places enough to make it matter. I blame you, both times." And he raises a finger and very non-threateningly jabs it towards Javeri.
"...and he says, 'Honey, if this is your idea of fertile mucus, I hope you don't bake.'" Dulcinea comes in the entrance with another healer, younger, markedly less pretty, looking just about terrified of her and not at all amused. Dulcie herself is laughing already, hand on the girl's shoulder. "Now, see? This will be fun. Fun. So, they told me I had to relax, and they told you that you needed to have a good time, and we're going to get both done. Right?" There's a little vague murmur that could be assent. "And we stay an hour and then you can go hide in whatever little corner you usually hide in, and I can go back to work, and then we're done with it." Exposition! But Dulcie just seems to be talking to hear herself talk, in the absence of any response from her acquaintance.
Javeri's drink rises to her lips for a drink and when she lowers it she says, "Oh, that reminds me! I have a business proposition for you, June! Oh, we don't need to discuss it now or anything. I know you're busy. Maybe I can come by another time later in the seven? Or you can come out to the Layabout. We can take a day cruise so you can check it out." Then she winks at Lachai. "Hey, no pointing fingers. You came into the Sandbar with someone else. I was just there already. Admit it. You are willing to brave all these awful places because my company is so amazing. Which is good because I like you. I think we'll be friends. Don't say no. I'll weep."
"Thanks, Daddy." And it sounds so much cheesier, with the color Petra's tone gives it, or rather, the lack of color. She doesn't reach out for those marks, not even when they dance away from her palm. She just closes up her hand into a loose fist and takes it back, unfolding from the lean that brought her down to him. "Leave it on the bar," she tells him stiffly and steps to the side, pulled over by an empty-eyed, older woman in a scraggly brown tunic and her multiple-drink order.
"Well, I hope you'll think about making it more of a habit," June tells Lachai with all the charm she can muster, tilting her chin in as if the smile above it was just for him. Javeri's tease of a business proposition piques her interest next, eyebrows all raised, "I'm interested," she tells the rider frankly. "We'll come take a cruise," moving on up, it's nearly a promise now, "and talk about it then." Though it's begun to sound more and more like business and less and less like a cruise. Her gaze scans the crowded room, spying through a break in it, newcomers. "I just saw someone I know," she notes to the two she's with, a hand on Javeri's arm excusing her even as she says, "Excuse me for a minute." And Dulcinea may see her coming, smiling as she weaves in and out of tavern-goers with much more enthusiasm than the healer.
K'aus's eyebrows fall again. He's wearing what could be very easily construed as a pout, frozen when Petra walks away from him so dismissively. When he realizes she isn't coming right back he straightens and tosses the pieces down onto the bar so they make little noises and turns with what's left of his drink to look at the room. June's just walked away so he tracks her progress and... when he sees where she's going, who she's going to go speak to, his eyes widen and he turns back around again so-quickly. It could be comical.
Lachai turns about so that he can prop both elbows up on the bar. It gives him a clear view of what's available of the rest of room, allowing him to watch when June walks off, though the attention doesn't stay there. "Facts are facts," he agreeably allows to the previously accused rider, his hands spreading what they can in this new stance. "Ah ha, of course, 'amazing' was just the word I was looking for. I guess I'll have to let you handle your own flattery from now on, you're doing so well." Though it was a bit of a long process, he seems to have relaxed since getting here. Yet, that doesn't mean he can't stumble with the added, "What, no, yes. Friends. Weeping would be bad. Very public."
"Oh, no. It's a just a little thing I promise!" Javeri says with all the sincerity of the happily buzzed. "A few minutes discussion and you can enjoy the rest of the cruise with no worries but getting out of the sun and finding a drink when you get too hot." But then she's excusing herself so the bluerider waves. "Of course!" Then she's listening to Lachai and again almost pats his arm, but keeps her hands to herself. "In the morning when I am sober if you want to say we shouldn't try to be friends that's fine. Anyway I only compliment myself because most men are busy showering the pretty women with compliments. If I waited I'd be a hundred and still not hear about how great I am."
Further in, pulling the less-pretty companion along with her by the shoulder, Dulcinea is not so much enthusiastic as determined. And then there's--"June! Believe you said something about a free beer. This is Anda. Anda, this is June." Anda murmurs again and though lips move and sound comes out it's really hard to actually identify words, especially over all the other people around. No eye yet for the bar or those at it, with nearer things to attend to. Dulcie is just going to have to talk for the both of them, so she does. "We are going to have a good time," she says like this is a goal which probably has a Gantt chart involved.
Another of June's sisters slides into the vaccuum of space created a few feet in front of the bar, as those wanting drinks crowd forward and those just getting them try to get as far away from the mess as possible. This one, a tiny little thing dressed in turquoise ruffles, subtly flees the company of a bleary-eyed, plump-bellied old stablehand. "I said I'd get your drink, sir," and the title bites past her barely-pleasant smile, a hiccup in the natural sweetness of her voice. "You don't have to follow me." Petra swings by to collect those noisy marks K'aus threw down, but her dark eyes are drawn to the new ruckus, on the man now uttering things sure to be lewd, from the look on his face as he catches Chidiree by the wrist. The bartender glances June-wards, but then returns to the matter of putting away her money.
"Free beers, of course," is what June uses to welcome Dulcinea and her friend, who's given an extra nod when her name is spoken. "I'll have someone bring them over. Livi!" She calls out the name and gets the attention of a darker-skinned woman in amethyst, presumably the sister that looks like Dulcinea. "Two beers. For me." No charge. She turns back to the two healers then, smiling broadly. "Of course you are," June says much more warmly, "everyone's having fun. Look." At those drunk sailors? At the men and women singing bawdiness in the corner? At the losing gambler stumbling out of the room at the right? So much fun.
"I'm sorry, that wasn't meant to sound quite so unsure," - what is most likely a practiced reply for Lachai. But then he stares at her very carefully, back straightening a little against the bar. "There's something inherently wrong with that argument," he tells her - flat, serious. "See, defining the 'the' in that manner would be to suggest that you're not. One of the pretty ones, I mean, of course. Hmph, when you're sober, indeed. You forgot the 'other'." Thus logic has deemed it true. Turning on one elbow, he finds his drink and, right before sipping, points to the door of the bar, "So no... weyrmate? To tell you how great you are."
"Oh, it's perfectly fine," Javeri says before laughing. "You don't need to apologize to me. Really it's fine. I'm teasing you. I can't help it at all." Another sip of her drink before she sets it on the bar for now. "And I say it because I know it's true you know. I'm over twenty-four and I've been plain that whole time. It's hardly a crime to know it. I mean I do what I can with my hair and showing off my legs and what not, but the truly pretty ones. No, I don't compete with them at all. It's not a great tragedy, you know. It's just how it is." Up comes the drink once more and she almost coughs on it. "What? Weyrmate? No. No, I don't believe in that sort of thing. They only leave. People you care about you know? They just abandon you. I prefer to keep things simple. Friends."
"And no casualties yet," Dulcinea observes to June, while Anda just looks progressively more uncomfortable. That might be seen as an accomplishment in and of itself. Enthusiastic or not, Dulcinea does not look in any way uncomfortable with noise and bawdiness. "Well. If anybody felt inclined to a fight, now would be the time to do it, when the healers are actually here." She says that entirely louder than is really necessary, with more smile than such a statement really deserves. "It is going okay so far?" Less loud, more a general sort of pleasantry.
"I said, please don't touch me," Chidiree tells the man with a new sternness in her voice. The stablehand pays no heed, using his hold on her wrist to overpower her resistance and yo-yo her back to him. The empty tray she carries bounces off of his gut as she tries to push away, but he just chortles loudly and slides his hands down her back in a most improper way.
Petra nudges Ruesse with her elbow and the blond sidesteps around the bar to come to her young sister's rescue. She tosses low, strict, reasoning words at him, but eventually is just caught up in his inexorable tentacle-grasp, too. The other sisters, in their variable jewel tones, have begun to slowly circle nearer through the crowd, Petra abandoning the bar and Danta the stairs, gathering like lionesses just beginning to realize their prey is too big for them to tackle. Finally, Petra swipes, sinking her claws into his bump of a shoulder and pulling. he man rears on her, abandoning his current quarry to roar at her, "Back off, you whore," while he lurches and grabs at her with a much more violent bent.
"It's going well," June replies easily, drawing a drink from her bottle before turning her gaze on the rest of the tavern. A unity in the directiong people are looking, though, and a rumble of talk quieter than it should be, alerts June to stare in the direction of the bar, eyes thinned as if it would help her see through bodies. "I think you may have jinxed me, though," she notes, still lighthearted and smiling, if weakly so. "I... Livi will bring your drinks by. I'll just be a second." Nothing to worry about, she turns and walks through the tables calmly, if a bit quicker. A second later, the drunk roars.
"Well, you know me, high-strung." Lachai mutters under the rest of the reassurances. "And, anyway, these kinds of things come in all manner of opinions, so you're just going to have to take my word on it. I'll take you for yours, of course, but your, ah, bias is marked." The light banter vanishes in a snap, though, at a few simple words from Javeri. Tension returns to his face in an instant, banishing any smile given and causing his hands to clench into fists. "They do, don't they." He says, but barely to her. It hardly matters because, one second later, and people are jumping all over and roaring and smashing things and - contrary to everything likely gathered so far - at the sound of ruckus, Lachai pushes off the bar and moves immediately /towards/ it.
"High-strung, yes," Javeri agrees with him before taking a small drink. "But that's ok. I will adapt to it." Her smile stays in place, mostly. If there's a reaction to his reaction it comes from her eyes only and those drop down to her drink pretty swiftly. What a downer. But before she can recover from it there's that ruckus. And, the bluerider? Stays right where she is at. There's no way she has any desire to run towards what might be a fight. "Be careful!" she calls after him. But, yea. Here's the bar and here she remains.
Prescient or not, Dulcinea regards the goings-on dispassionately. It's not her job to stop these kinds of things, it's her job to clean up when they're over with. "Right, right," she tells June as the redhead moves off, and over strenuous objections--well, quasi-wordless murmurs that might be objections--Dulcie hauls her friend off to a position close enough to watch the fight without being close enough to get involved in the fight. "Well, this is fun, isn't it?" Unhappy murmur in response.
That drunk stablehand just keeps on barreling, having gained too much momentum by the time his target moves to stop, even though his droopy eyes register the switch by widening with a mixture of anger and surprise. Though he plows against K'aus with his wide berth, he doesn't seem to realize the rider is a problem until that bottle comes crashing down on his head. A stunned few seconds passes, a rivulet of blood springing up from his thinning hairline, before he turns dizzied eyes on K'aus and curses hotly. "What are you doing?" he growls and swings a ham-fist at the brownrider's head, disregarding the broken bottle that his opponent probably still carries.
June appears with a push to the edge of the ring that the onlookers have created, regarding the whole thing, the two men fighting, Petra shoved against a barstool, Chidiree and Ruesse shoved together up against a table away from the blows. After a moment of assessing the situation, she sidesteps instead of taking on the action and makes her way over to Ruesse, who she grills in an exchange of low, close words.
Startled moreso by the fact that despite having just received a significant blow to his head his now-opponent is still conscious, K'aus stares wide-eyed up at him, then down at the broken bottle in his hand, then back up. Just in time to lift his eyebrows and take that fist right to the jaw, and maybe it's the downward drive more than the actual force that sinks him to the floor like a sack of bricks. He isn't down long and then he's brandishing that bottle wildly while he tries to regain his legs and holds his other hand to his head to keep it from falling off. After a quick shake he realizes it's in no danger and throws the bottle on the floor so he has both hands free to take an experimental swing at the angry man's face.
Javeri's not doing anything exciting either. Leaning against the bar, sipping her drink, watching for signs of trouble spreading so she can run like the girl she is.
Dulcinea is really not supposed to approve of this sort of thing. Fighting. There's harm in there. Healers are supposed to be very anti-harm sort of people. Anda is definitely an anti-harm sort of person. Murmur. "No, we can't leave. I told you, we have to have a good time first." Murmur. "Well, maybe it'll get better. I don't think it's all bad." Dulcinea cranes her neck, watching closely now. Anda murmurs. "Think of it as practical experience. Maybe one of them will get something broken. I should have brought my kit." Murmur, and a heavy sigh in response from Dulcie. "Yes, if you want to go get it, fine. But I'll know it's an excuse." No more murmurs, there--Anda is just plain bolting for the exit. "And you'd better come back!"
Drunken Stablehand staggers with the force of his own punch, and whirls a bit, blinking in wonderment at the fact that his opponent has disappeared. He casts about for him, and eventually finds him, but just in time to take a blow right across his chubby ossa zygomatica. That's the one that puts him down for the count, for after he staggers against a chair, he slumps to the floor and leans his head against it with a sodden groan.
As soon as the threat is neutralized, June steps in, pulling Petra away from the bar with a gentle hand to her elbow. "Get him out of here. Please," she directs, waving Ruesse over to help, though eventually it's a couple of the man's sheepish friends that come to hoist the hulk of the man to his feet, a time-consuming process. "Livi, you have drink orders, Chidiree, please take over the bar now. Don't worry," she says lightly to a couple of those nearby, planting a short pat on Lachai's arm in particular. "Keep enjoying your drinks. Just a little brawl, nothing to worry about. Dulcinea?" Her voice is raised louder, just for the few seconds it takes for the beckon. The final bit to put to rest, she turns to K'aus and watches his face for the time it takes her to heave a breath. "Free drinks for the kind brownrider, for the rest of the night," she announces toward the bar, though her voice carries far enough that it's sure she wants others to know about this precedent as well.
The kind brownrider is busy shaking his hand like it's on fire, and it probably might as well be for all that burning, and /probably/ couldn't care less about free drinks. But he is indeed facing June when she turns to him, meets her eyes easily and pauses long enough for her to heave a breath, for him to ask her silent questions. By the time she's made her announcement he's flexing his fingers and rolling his shoulder and returning to his place at the bar like he'd never left.
Lachai gives a very serious nod of acceptance when June comes by; his gaze trails the unconscious brawler until a recognized name is called. Scanning the room for where Dulcinea may be, he also takes several steps back towards the bar to raise a reassuring hand to Javeri, though she's likely already able to tell it's over. Healer unfound, even despite his delays, he makes it back to the rider, instead. "Bars, huh," he comments, sweeping a hand through his hair, "I'll never understand the need for it. Anyway, I can't remember what I was saying."
Since things are not getting worse Javeri doesn't run. "Hey, I rarely see fights in bars," she points out with a grin. Her drink is empty, but she's making no effort to get another. "It's nice to get out though. I like to be around people. Until I am sick of them and I go back to my weyr and get away from them." Shaking her head she frowns a moment, but then finds a smile. "I don't remember," she lies with a laugh. "It was probably nothing important. Random bar talk right? You should never have important conversations in bars."
She comes when called, Dulcinea, there's that much to be said for her, even if it's more of a swingy-hipped saunter in that direction than any kind of rush. They're neither of them dead or dying, after all. Well, probably. "I haven't even gotten a drink yet," she tells June as she approaches. K'aus gets not a glance, although the stablehand gets a once-over. "No, don't haul him off yet," she informs his friends, not a request, just superceding June without so much as a by-your-leave. To June herself, "Remember what I told you about head injuries? Sit him up, let him come round, make sure he's not damaged, *then* get rid of him. Or else he ends up collapsed out there someplace drowning in his own vomit." And let's hope that for once she's not doing the foresight thing.
Chidiree swings behind the bar as asked, followed soon by Petra when she's relieved of her assigned duty. Smiles replaced, they go about restarting the booze dealing and therefore the normal flow of the tavern, but as soon as she's handed out a few easily-made drinks, the younger of the two swings by K'aus' spot to lean in and tell him simply, as gruffly as her sweet voice allows, "Hey, thanks." Another scotch clunks down over Chidiree's shoulder and Petra just gives him a nod before they both move away and go about their separate tasks.
June makes her own effort at returning everything to the normal tipsy gaiety, passing calm comments to those still hesitantly looking on, but when the healer reaches them, she abandons that. "Right," she says, letting the Dulcinea go about her business unhindered. Wouldn't do to have someone die on the first night. Very bad press. "Could be a concussion. Do what you need to do," she tells her, though that doesn't stop her from standing a step back and supervising. Meanwhile, Livi shows up with the two beers that June ordered, the free ones for Dulcinea and... well, Dulcinea now.
Caught in the middle of massaging his knuckles, K'aus glances up to catch Chidiree's thanks and return it with a confused look. It's all an act though, since right after that he grudgingly nods too and accepts his free drink. And, leaning, he sips on it and stares down at the bar and presses the back of his hand against the chill of the glass.
"I used to always hear about them," Lachai mentions lightly, like he's not even aware he's saying it. Then he sighs and looks down the bar to see if, perhaps, that first drink is still there. There's no reaction at all to show that he think she's lying, which means he probably doesn't. "Out until you're not. It must be nice, having that place to retreat to so well. But then, I think it was P'draig told me he was never alone. Always something up there." In means the dragons, but all he does is angle a finger at her head to mean so.
Petra works down the bar, making sure that everyone is doing well and getting them refocused on their drinks. Eventually, she reaches the section of bar that supports Javeri and Lachai's conversation. "Anyone need anything here?" she interjects into an available pause, already eyeing Javeri's empty glass.
"Hear about bar fights?" Javeri asks before shaking her head. "I tend to run from them. I don't really like, you know, antagonism and all. People not liking each other? It just sort of brings the whole mood down. I like it when people are getting along." Shoulders shrug and she pushes a braid behind her ear. "It's nice. It's weird. Before I got my own weyr I'd never had my own space but a little almost closet when I lived with my family. A curtain over an alcove. Not real private. And, yea. You're never alone. But it's different for everyone." When the question comes the bluerider shakes her head at Petra. "Oh, no thanks. I've got to get going in a little bit."
"Smelling salts," Dulcinea reflects vaguely in June's direction as she checks over the stablehand. "Should have thought to give you smelling salts. Well, no helping it. He'll come around, I'm guessing. Doesn't look that bad. Although appearances can be deceiving." And then there are drinks, two of them, and Dulcinea only one person. "Where did that girl get to?" A peer over towards the entrance, down the bar, with a frown, now. "Least nobody needs stitches, I suppose. Although, I was sort of hoping for stitches. That would have made it more worth coming."
"Didn't think of that," June remarks to the idea of smelling salts, arms crossing over her waist while she waits for the healer to assess the situation. The bar gets a subtle, quick scan, but mostly her attention is on the offender and his groans. He even manages to burp out a slurred, hardly conscious, "Hey sweetheart," for his attendant healer. He's alive! "Sorry I couldn't be accomodating," she says with a joke in her tone. "Next time I'll have a stitches case for you." Presumptuous, that there will be a next time. "He well enough for me to kick him out yet?" she wonders idly, anxious fingers rattling against her elbow.
Somewhere in there K'aus must have finished his drink because he stands behind June and gazes down at the man on the floor with his blank face on. His, "Hey good party," might come as a surprise, then. And because he doesn't really have anything else to do or say, and because he's just that weird, he turns and makes for the exit.
"I'm fine, I'm still..." Lachai motions Petra towards that other unfinished glass before nodding to Javeri. "Yes, I wasn't raised with much of a concept of personal space, either." He sounds a bit disgruntled about it, too, but that passes. "Different for...? Oh, well, that's not helpful. I suppose I'll never understand it at all. Someone /that/ close to you..." The idea requires thought, a lot of thought, and only part of which Lachai is willing to go through then. Instead, he goes through the familiar motions and then blinks at the bar curiously. "Now you're leaving soon and I still can't believe I came in at all."
"Personal space is weird. But, yea, sorry. Some people are real close to their dragons and others exist together, but aren't, you know? All in each other's pockets all the time. That's Chadamalith and me. We were never tied at the hip." Shoulders shrug and Javeri looks at the bar like she's considering another drink, but then shakes her head. "Always know your limits," she says then with a smile. "And I drank more tonight than normal. I'd love to stay and talk, but I better not. I might say the wrong thing." Frowning for a moment she looks down at her feet. "You're never alone, you know? But you're still...you still know you're alone but for him. Because there's no one else to trust who won't leave you and...and, well, shit. That's the sort of maudlin stuff no one wants to hear. I'll see you later, Lachai. Thanks for braving the masses to seek me out. Next time just leave word if you want and we can meet somewhere you're more comfortable."
"No," Dulcinea says first to June, hard as coal. "You are annoyingly impatient." Pot, kettle. She then lays a solid gaze on the stablehand once more: "Today's date. What is it?" The healer's drink--well, drinks, if Anda doesn't make an appearance again--go ignored entirely. Now is not the time for relaxing. Her priorities are not so thoroughly screwed up as to miss that much. And, working as she is, when K'aus goes to make his exit, her attention seizes on this, goes to grab an arm as he passes. Professionally. Really. "Hey, there, hero, your friend's not the only one to take a blow, sit yourself down and tell me the Weyrleader's name and sit still 'til I can get a light in your eyes. Not going to let you go off and die, either, no matter how much I might like to."
Petra nods at her pair of patrons and moves on to the next. Out on the floor, June purses her lips, draws down her brows at the mess of a man and the fact that he's still in her bar. K'aus' departure, at least his intended departure is noted by an extra inch of frown, an opening of her lips for words that never come. They're preempted by Dulcinea's. She stands frozen there, watching K'aus for a good long moment with an apology in her eyes, even going so far as to bite her lip, but eventually she says, in the most casual way she can, "I'll go be impatient somewhere else." No one could call that tampering, for sure. With one last, meaningful glance toward the brownrider, and a glance for the scum still being tended, she walks off to do her mingling duty and keep up the spirits of the party.
That's where I had to leave, more to be added later.
Location: The Lucky Seven, Ista Weyr
Date: 6-26-09
June, leaning on the patron side of the bar with a beer curled in one hand, is tied up in conversation with Lachai, looking all manner of out of sorts in this setting. Sailors monopolize one table with a series of chugging contests-- a tournament, some would say-- while the rest of the tavern-goers-- their number growing by the minute-- mill around, talk, laugh, sing, and generally enjoy themselves. "No, not really. I'm sort of the owner in that the Weyr officially owns it. I run it, you could say." She casts a glance over her shoulder, toward both the bartender, Ruesse, he beckons and toward Valenia, now link-armed with Danta and heading stair-ward. "My sister," she confirms for him. "They're all my sisters," she tells him, but then leans in to add in a jokingly conspiratorial air, "in a loose sense, really." Then, louder. "Was there something you needed?" She does, after all, work here.
Dressed for the event, that is to say wearing much finer things than he normally might, K'aus comes in through those open doors with an attention for details. Like the sailors, hard to miss no matter how new you are to the scene. His lip curling, the brownrider ventures in further and approaches the bar to lean on it next to June and look first at her, blankly, then at Lachai. "Are you old enough to be here?" By the way: hi.
"A loose sense..." Lachai continues to repeat phrases, hoping, perhaps, that enough of a question is in them to spark an answer. He watches Valenia head away up the stairs, turning back only because someone else has shown up. The newly arrived rider is greeted, in turn, with a raised eyebrow. "Um, hello. And, yes. Was that really your greatest concern?" Look, he's even holding a glass of some sort of green-colored drink. Not that it looks like he's taken very much out of it.
Eventually visiting with her cousin ends and Javeri wanders back inside. Her glass is empty so she heads for the bar, but she doesn't seem to be in much of a rush. There's people to dodge, or avoid, and every now and again she stops to say hi including the table of sailors although she doesn't stay long. When she winds up at the bar there's a few people between her and the people she was speaking to earlier so she just sets down her empty glass and fishes for her marks.
June's angle in her lean is open enough to notice when, through the interest, comes a certain brownrider of note, but closed enough so that when he slips into that spot next to her, she can ignore him soundly in preference for the conversation. That is, until he barges right into said conversation. She turns her head to view him, just there at the corner of her gaze, and deals him a smooth, friendly, "Hi there, brownrider." She turns a smile back to Lachai, soothing-- nothing to get riled up over here, see?-- and then abandons her lean altogether, altering her step to open up the circle for the newcomer. On the subject of age, she stays quiet, sticking simply to another sip from her bottle.
"Was it a concern?" K'aus pins Lachai under his steady dark stare for a moment that runs perhaps uncomfortably long and says to June without actually looking at her, "Congratulations on the place." Like he's never been here before ever. "Your patrons seem overjoyed." Finally he does look elsewhere, over at the sailors again. Then a sweeping glance for the rest of those crowded in. "You must be thrilled." So enthused.
Lachai is easily discomforted, so, yes, the stare's a little long and a little dark. "You made it the first thing you said..." He explains, without much spirit to it, and very quickly looking to return June's smile instead. Shifting hesitantly still, he finally turns to the bar instead and gets to the slowly going drink. Unfortunately, he can still hear K'aus and that means a low snort into his glass at the less-than excited proclamations.
"Oh, goodness, you're still here?" Javeri says when she catches sight of Lachai. A tiny bit of maneuvering gets her close enough to speak without having to yell. "Which is not a bad thing. And it gives me a chance to apologize for running off. I've not seen my cousin in turns. And hello again to you, June." Since she doesn't know the other man she doesn't offer a hello.
While K'aus is pinning Lachai, June is pinning K'aus, though her gaze is less obviously hostile; her pleasant, hostess smile is still going strong and she has an easy, relaxed stance. "Thank you," she replies to K'aus' enthusiasm in that same smooth tone, "I am." Her gaze slides down the bar and she notes Javeri approaching with (real) eagerness in her voice. "Look who's back. Lachai just filled me in on the leather... slings, I guess you'd call them. It sounds like a very easy solution." So she's back to ignoring K'aus again, her shoulders ever so slightly closing him out of their talk. The poor brownrider gets some attention, though. "What can I get you?" It's Petra, dressed in dark topaz and a plain apron, the other sister manning bar at this hour.
Lachai's snorting is unfortunate for him; he's under K'aus's scrutiny again. The brownrider's brow furrows over it, as if the kid's done him and society some great offense. And since Javeri and June are both going to ignore him, all the more for the guy in glasses. Until Petra approaches, unseen until she speaks and his eyes are drawn to her. And then over her. "Something strong. On ice," he replies somewhere around her hips. And, meeting her eyes, he leans on an elbow and adds, "Surprise me."
Blissfully, there is someone else for Lachai to be paying attention to. He adjusts his stance, never having taken to an actual seat at the bar, to better face Javeri at her return. "I'm still here. June and I were just..." He trails off to allow June's own explanation to go unhindered, then adds, "I'm glad you two got to talk, then. Everything's, ah, going well- there was that weyrmate before...?" Though he means only to look around the room, once he casts a glance over his shoulder, the young man only spots K'aus and he looks immediately back even though the rider's attention is now elsewhere.
With a smile Javeri nods to June. "I think it will work. I'll have to try it of course, but I just cannot get the pots thin enough to actually transport well. And if they're more sturdy storing them on the ship will be no problem at all." "Can I get another green thing please," she calls out before Petra can get away. "Does it have a name?" she asks June. "I swear all I drink these days is green alcoholic drinks. But that's fine I suppose. Even if it must be unlucky." Looking at Lachai she nearly pats his arm, but stops herself. "Don't worry about him. He's a jerk." Well, he has a reputation even if she doesn't know him herself. "But, my cousin is fine, yes. He's getting married and had to tell me. The poor dear. Married. And the weyrmates were fine. They argued a bit and then went home to make up. It's pretty typical for them. Are you having fun?"
Petra is solid under K'aus' wandering eyes, her poise all muscle and unapologizing for it. She has an eyebrow lifted for him when his gaze comes up again, not at all a reproach. A beat and then, "I like the way you drink." If she realizes her play on words, she doesn't indicate it, her mouth the same thin line it was when she came up. She turns to find him a glass, some ice, and a surprise amber liquid. A scotch, he'll find when he tastes; cheap, but scotch. "You know June?" she asks as she sets it down for him, lifting her chin in her sister's direction.
Ruesse swings around behind Petra, hearing Javeri's order as she goes to get a new beer for someone else, a finger raised to hold her off a minute. "The name of the place counteracts all of that, don't worry," June replies lightheartedly, turning her eyes down to regard the drink. "It doesn't have a name, yet. None of us can think of one that's good enough. And not... sappy." She gives half a glance toward the jerk when he's brought up in conversation again, but she doesn't comment herself.
When you're K'aus, you're used to people pretending you weren't there or wishing you hadn't happened to them. You're also used to not really paying attention to people who aren't gorgeous and strong and looking at you like Petra's looking at him right now. The buzz of conversation happens around him and he largely ignores it, except to turn his head and give Javeri a mild, blank look. "No," he answers June's 'sister' before he actually looks at her again, but when he adds, "but I don't take it personally," he is. A sip, then, "Fun concept, seven sisters who look nothing alike. Your mother must have had a few exciting years earlier." With absolutely zero tact.
Checklist: Lachai is now safe. "I'm not worrying about it..." He tells Javeri, totally believable. Uh huh. "Married?" The eyebrows bounce, and he contemplates the green of his drink. "Have you ever met the to-be? And, ah, well, June was being very nice and we were talking about the job, so." He gives a nod as if confirming that this was, indeed, fun. The mentioned June is glanced at, as well, "No name? That seems like that makes it rather inconvenient for ordering, or do you just hand it out by recommendation?" He taps the glass thoughtfully, "Huh, well, worked on me..."
"Thanks!" Javeri says happily when her drink is acknowledged. "A good name? I'm terrible with names. Sooz named the ship. We were being completely lazy and that's how she came up with it." She smiles again widely and snaps her fingers. "Just call it The Green One. Even a drunk can remember that." Which is not an indication of her state. Probably. "I've not met her. He wants to me to tomorrow. I suppose I shall. It would be rude not to after all."
"Valenia and June look alike," Petra answers him helpfully, though she's nearly as blank as he is when she does so. The arch of her brows saves her from being completely so. "But it's mostly a figure of speech. No one seems to question it too much, though." Except him. Leisurely, she takes a bottle of beer from underneath the bar and uncaps it, handing it over to an older dock worker who wordlessly asked for one. It's a good thing she did, too, because Ruesse is busy mixing Javeri another, which is handed over moments later, in addition for a request for payment.
June nods at Lachai, considering the green-filled glass over a drink from her bottle. "It's the first night, so most things are on recommendation. We have one named," and she holds up a finger to indicate just how many. In case they're slow, or need help or something. "The Unlucky Seven. Seven kinds of alcohol." Her lips curve up with the cleverness of it. "The Green One," she tries out, her mind working over it as much as her mouth. "It's interesting. Simple. We may see how it works."
For 'figure of speech' Petra earns one of K'aus's long stares. It's like he's waiting for her or the concept in question to make sense. Whether it eventually does or not is lost in the void where a facial expression should be. "That'd make you not Valenia. Or you speak in the third person." Which leads him to regard her, this dark-haired sister, over his drink when he takes one. Process of elimination. With an ear to the talk happening over there, he chimes in, "Stupid name," out of the corner of his mouth, then leans on the bar on both elbows to tilt his head at the bartender and ask, "So do they have you chained to this thing?"
Lachai breathes a noise of understanding, "First night. That makes sense." Which is gone just as fast. "Although, you didn't try to name them before opening? I guess that seems like one of things you'd want to have ready." Staring thus far quite steadily at the bar, he shifts a brief nod to June. "Oh, you know, because I'm, ah, the expert on bars. Anyway, I'm sure something'll come up and, yes, that seems like a good thing to do, Javeri. She'll be family soon and all that."
From her pocket comes a mark to hand over in payment. Before she lets it go she asks Lachai, "Did you want something else? I don't think you liked that too much if you're still on your first. An honest mark given me by my cousin will pay for it promise. No ill gotten gains from other men. Although I suppose S'tan's were not ill gotten. Still, if you don't like it you should have something else. The whole fun in going to a new place is exploring the drink menu. I guess if you don't drink alcohol you can't do as much. Why don't you drink?" As soon as the question's out though she looks at June. "If you think it's horrid that's fine. I'm not going to weep into my glass." The brownrider's comment is ignored or just unheard.
"No. I'd be Petra," she tells him while doing a one-two snik-snik uncapping of two beers, passing them on to a baby-faced journeyman harper who takes both. "Only for the next hour or so," she shares, taking a practiced look for any further orders before taking a moment to lean on her side of the bar, closing them in. She pierces him with her dark eyes. "Unless I find a better way to make money. Speaking of, you gonna pay me for that thing?" Her eyes skip down to his scotch, just a darted glance before they return.
June regards Lachai with a longer gaze for his criticism of her drink-naming process, but she doesn't seem all that phased by it, if her smile is any indication. Her gaze returns to Javeri and she laughs lightly over the joke about ill-gotten marks. "Oh, it has potential," she tells her about the name, waving a hand dismissively, "I'll have to run it by the rest, though. Yes, why don't you drink?" June re-poses the question to Lachai, dropping a look to his near-untouched glass, but returning her curious gaze to him, waiting out his answer.
There's something about the way K'aus wrinkles his nose that suggests maybe he didn't necessarily want her name that quickly. And now that he has it he doesn't repeat it. His mouth relaxes up into a near-smile, tolerant for being pierced so, and maybe a little bit amused by the concept of, ah, occupying her. The drink is given further attention by him, first when he looks down at it and next when he takes more from it. "What do you do to me if I don't?" he wonders, even while he's searching one-handed for marks in his pocket.
"No, I'm fine," Lachai quickly replies, "I've still got-" Oh, so she noticed. "/It's/ fine. I've just been, ah, talking and, uh." His gaze darts between both women, but they are equally closing in with the same question. He pauses, then, staring at the ceiling and very obviously thinking it over - which would generally mean someone very bad at it was digging for an excuse, but with him, who knows. "I like to... stay clear-headed. I don't do well... drinking." He levels off a hand and jabs it decisively through the air, so having said. "So, is this a sister's favorite drink?" He tries deflecting, lifting the thing and even taking a sip to get them off the case. "Maybe each can name, ah, one, no. I suppose there might be overlap."
"Everything has potential," Javeri replies with a laugh. "Even the tiniest grain of sand or drop of water. It's all connected together if you look." Philosophy. It's a good guess who it came from. But then she's listening to Lachai as she lets go her mark for payment and collects her drink. "Oh, that makes sense. Some people have alcohol go farther and faster than others. I shall not be a pest about it I assure you. It's completely rude after all. But there's excellent juice combinations. You should find a favorite and if it looks like it might be alcoholic people will leave you be. I do that some nights when I don't feel like drinking. Granted it's not that many nights."
A round of cheering comes from the table of sailors, a victor finally standing out from the rest, though at this point he's more hanging from his compatriot's shoulder than standing at all. Petra, bartender of the hour, gives K'aus a little flattening of her mouth, an expression that's not all that flattering on her severe features. "Unpleasant things," she says, and it's debatable whether it was meant as a dry joke or a quite frank answer. It's sure looks like she could do some damage if she tried. Her hand flips open, sitting palm up on the space of bar between them.
June's eyebrows skip upward a few degrees while Lachai fishes for his answer, and she passes Javeri a short, shrugging look. "I see," she says when that answer is finally produced, tilting a sip of beer into her mouth. "Yeah, you see, if we let Valenia decide any of the names, they'd end up being... Green Fling, or something equally..." Well, she'll just say it. "... dumb." Valenia herself is nowhere to be seen now, but Danta, the sister she was last seen with, is now standing sentry at the top of the stairs, leaning on the rail with a beer held in both hands.
"Easy there, sweetheart, Daddy's got your sugar right... here." And K'aus comes up with the correct payment for a drink like his, maybe he knows right from past bar experience-- duh. And he almost gives it right over too, brings it tantalizingly close to that open palm, but just shy of it he jerks it away and holds it up at eye level between thumb and forefinger. It probably isn't a good idea to tease people like Petra, but he's always done things that normal people probably wouldn't do.
Once again, Lachai only lifts his chin and makes a 'hm' noise to suggest he knows what June is getting at. Then again, the woman finishes her thought, too, he adds uselessly, "I see." Then, more dryly, "Though once you're drunk, it hardly seems to matter... Not the point, though. I get it." And he does, and he sounds like he does. Back to Javeri, it's time for a soft laugh, though it's not exactly an easy-going sound as it should be. "I'm not usually /in/ these places enough to make it matter. I blame you, both times." And he raises a finger and very non-threateningly jabs it towards Javeri.
"...and he says, 'Honey, if this is your idea of fertile mucus, I hope you don't bake.'" Dulcinea comes in the entrance with another healer, younger, markedly less pretty, looking just about terrified of her and not at all amused. Dulcie herself is laughing already, hand on the girl's shoulder. "Now, see? This will be fun. Fun. So, they told me I had to relax, and they told you that you needed to have a good time, and we're going to get both done. Right?" There's a little vague murmur that could be assent. "And we stay an hour and then you can go hide in whatever little corner you usually hide in, and I can go back to work, and then we're done with it." Exposition! But Dulcie just seems to be talking to hear herself talk, in the absence of any response from her acquaintance.
Javeri's drink rises to her lips for a drink and when she lowers it she says, "Oh, that reminds me! I have a business proposition for you, June! Oh, we don't need to discuss it now or anything. I know you're busy. Maybe I can come by another time later in the seven? Or you can come out to the Layabout. We can take a day cruise so you can check it out." Then she winks at Lachai. "Hey, no pointing fingers. You came into the Sandbar with someone else. I was just there already. Admit it. You are willing to brave all these awful places because my company is so amazing. Which is good because I like you. I think we'll be friends. Don't say no. I'll weep."
"Thanks, Daddy." And it sounds so much cheesier, with the color Petra's tone gives it, or rather, the lack of color. She doesn't reach out for those marks, not even when they dance away from her palm. She just closes up her hand into a loose fist and takes it back, unfolding from the lean that brought her down to him. "Leave it on the bar," she tells him stiffly and steps to the side, pulled over by an empty-eyed, older woman in a scraggly brown tunic and her multiple-drink order.
"Well, I hope you'll think about making it more of a habit," June tells Lachai with all the charm she can muster, tilting her chin in as if the smile above it was just for him. Javeri's tease of a business proposition piques her interest next, eyebrows all raised, "I'm interested," she tells the rider frankly. "We'll come take a cruise," moving on up, it's nearly a promise now, "and talk about it then." Though it's begun to sound more and more like business and less and less like a cruise. Her gaze scans the crowded room, spying through a break in it, newcomers. "I just saw someone I know," she notes to the two she's with, a hand on Javeri's arm excusing her even as she says, "Excuse me for a minute." And Dulcinea may see her coming, smiling as she weaves in and out of tavern-goers with much more enthusiasm than the healer.
K'aus's eyebrows fall again. He's wearing what could be very easily construed as a pout, frozen when Petra walks away from him so dismissively. When he realizes she isn't coming right back he straightens and tosses the pieces down onto the bar so they make little noises and turns with what's left of his drink to look at the room. June's just walked away so he tracks her progress and... when he sees where she's going, who she's going to go speak to, his eyes widen and he turns back around again so-quickly. It could be comical.
Lachai turns about so that he can prop both elbows up on the bar. It gives him a clear view of what's available of the rest of room, allowing him to watch when June walks off, though the attention doesn't stay there. "Facts are facts," he agreeably allows to the previously accused rider, his hands spreading what they can in this new stance. "Ah ha, of course, 'amazing' was just the word I was looking for. I guess I'll have to let you handle your own flattery from now on, you're doing so well." Though it was a bit of a long process, he seems to have relaxed since getting here. Yet, that doesn't mean he can't stumble with the added, "What, no, yes. Friends. Weeping would be bad. Very public."
"Oh, no. It's a just a little thing I promise!" Javeri says with all the sincerity of the happily buzzed. "A few minutes discussion and you can enjoy the rest of the cruise with no worries but getting out of the sun and finding a drink when you get too hot." But then she's excusing herself so the bluerider waves. "Of course!" Then she's listening to Lachai and again almost pats his arm, but keeps her hands to herself. "In the morning when I am sober if you want to say we shouldn't try to be friends that's fine. Anyway I only compliment myself because most men are busy showering the pretty women with compliments. If I waited I'd be a hundred and still not hear about how great I am."
Further in, pulling the less-pretty companion along with her by the shoulder, Dulcinea is not so much enthusiastic as determined. And then there's--"June! Believe you said something about a free beer. This is Anda. Anda, this is June." Anda murmurs again and though lips move and sound comes out it's really hard to actually identify words, especially over all the other people around. No eye yet for the bar or those at it, with nearer things to attend to. Dulcie is just going to have to talk for the both of them, so she does. "We are going to have a good time," she says like this is a goal which probably has a Gantt chart involved.
Another of June's sisters slides into the vaccuum of space created a few feet in front of the bar, as those wanting drinks crowd forward and those just getting them try to get as far away from the mess as possible. This one, a tiny little thing dressed in turquoise ruffles, subtly flees the company of a bleary-eyed, plump-bellied old stablehand. "I said I'd get your drink, sir," and the title bites past her barely-pleasant smile, a hiccup in the natural sweetness of her voice. "You don't have to follow me." Petra swings by to collect those noisy marks K'aus threw down, but her dark eyes are drawn to the new ruckus, on the man now uttering things sure to be lewd, from the look on his face as he catches Chidiree by the wrist. The bartender glances June-wards, but then returns to the matter of putting away her money.
"Free beers, of course," is what June uses to welcome Dulcinea and her friend, who's given an extra nod when her name is spoken. "I'll have someone bring them over. Livi!" She calls out the name and gets the attention of a darker-skinned woman in amethyst, presumably the sister that looks like Dulcinea. "Two beers. For me." No charge. She turns back to the two healers then, smiling broadly. "Of course you are," June says much more warmly, "everyone's having fun. Look." At those drunk sailors? At the men and women singing bawdiness in the corner? At the losing gambler stumbling out of the room at the right? So much fun.
"I'm sorry, that wasn't meant to sound quite so unsure," - what is most likely a practiced reply for Lachai. But then he stares at her very carefully, back straightening a little against the bar. "There's something inherently wrong with that argument," he tells her - flat, serious. "See, defining the 'the' in that manner would be to suggest that you're not. One of the pretty ones, I mean, of course. Hmph, when you're sober, indeed. You forgot the 'other'." Thus logic has deemed it true. Turning on one elbow, he finds his drink and, right before sipping, points to the door of the bar, "So no... weyrmate? To tell you how great you are."
"Oh, it's perfectly fine," Javeri says before laughing. "You don't need to apologize to me. Really it's fine. I'm teasing you. I can't help it at all." Another sip of her drink before she sets it on the bar for now. "And I say it because I know it's true you know. I'm over twenty-four and I've been plain that whole time. It's hardly a crime to know it. I mean I do what I can with my hair and showing off my legs and what not, but the truly pretty ones. No, I don't compete with them at all. It's not a great tragedy, you know. It's just how it is." Up comes the drink once more and she almost coughs on it. "What? Weyrmate? No. No, I don't believe in that sort of thing. They only leave. People you care about you know? They just abandon you. I prefer to keep things simple. Friends."
"And no casualties yet," Dulcinea observes to June, while Anda just looks progressively more uncomfortable. That might be seen as an accomplishment in and of itself. Enthusiastic or not, Dulcinea does not look in any way uncomfortable with noise and bawdiness. "Well. If anybody felt inclined to a fight, now would be the time to do it, when the healers are actually here." She says that entirely louder than is really necessary, with more smile than such a statement really deserves. "It is going okay so far?" Less loud, more a general sort of pleasantry.
"I said, please don't touch me," Chidiree tells the man with a new sternness in her voice. The stablehand pays no heed, using his hold on her wrist to overpower her resistance and yo-yo her back to him. The empty tray she carries bounces off of his gut as she tries to push away, but he just chortles loudly and slides his hands down her back in a most improper way.
Petra nudges Ruesse with her elbow and the blond sidesteps around the bar to come to her young sister's rescue. She tosses low, strict, reasoning words at him, but eventually is just caught up in his inexorable tentacle-grasp, too. The other sisters, in their variable jewel tones, have begun to slowly circle nearer through the crowd, Petra abandoning the bar and Danta the stairs, gathering like lionesses just beginning to realize their prey is too big for them to tackle. Finally, Petra swipes, sinking her claws into his bump of a shoulder and pulling. he man rears on her, abandoning his current quarry to roar at her, "Back off, you whore," while he lurches and grabs at her with a much more violent bent.
"It's going well," June replies easily, drawing a drink from her bottle before turning her gaze on the rest of the tavern. A unity in the directiong people are looking, though, and a rumble of talk quieter than it should be, alerts June to stare in the direction of the bar, eyes thinned as if it would help her see through bodies. "I think you may have jinxed me, though," she notes, still lighthearted and smiling, if weakly so. "I... Livi will bring your drinks by. I'll just be a second." Nothing to worry about, she turns and walks through the tables calmly, if a bit quicker. A second later, the drunk roars.
"Well, you know me, high-strung." Lachai mutters under the rest of the reassurances. "And, anyway, these kinds of things come in all manner of opinions, so you're just going to have to take my word on it. I'll take you for yours, of course, but your, ah, bias is marked." The light banter vanishes in a snap, though, at a few simple words from Javeri. Tension returns to his face in an instant, banishing any smile given and causing his hands to clench into fists. "They do, don't they." He says, but barely to her. It hardly matters because, one second later, and people are jumping all over and roaring and smashing things and - contrary to everything likely gathered so far - at the sound of ruckus, Lachai pushes off the bar and moves immediately /towards/ it.
"High-strung, yes," Javeri agrees with him before taking a small drink. "But that's ok. I will adapt to it." Her smile stays in place, mostly. If there's a reaction to his reaction it comes from her eyes only and those drop down to her drink pretty swiftly. What a downer. But before she can recover from it there's that ruckus. And, the bluerider? Stays right where she is at. There's no way she has any desire to run towards what might be a fight. "Be careful!" she calls after him. But, yea. Here's the bar and here she remains.
Prescient or not, Dulcinea regards the goings-on dispassionately. It's not her job to stop these kinds of things, it's her job to clean up when they're over with. "Right, right," she tells June as the redhead moves off, and over strenuous objections--well, quasi-wordless murmurs that might be objections--Dulcie hauls her friend off to a position close enough to watch the fight without being close enough to get involved in the fight. "Well, this is fun, isn't it?" Unhappy murmur in response.
That drunk stablehand just keeps on barreling, having gained too much momentum by the time his target moves to stop, even though his droopy eyes register the switch by widening with a mixture of anger and surprise. Though he plows against K'aus with his wide berth, he doesn't seem to realize the rider is a problem until that bottle comes crashing down on his head. A stunned few seconds passes, a rivulet of blood springing up from his thinning hairline, before he turns dizzied eyes on K'aus and curses hotly. "What are you doing?" he growls and swings a ham-fist at the brownrider's head, disregarding the broken bottle that his opponent probably still carries.
June appears with a push to the edge of the ring that the onlookers have created, regarding the whole thing, the two men fighting, Petra shoved against a barstool, Chidiree and Ruesse shoved together up against a table away from the blows. After a moment of assessing the situation, she sidesteps instead of taking on the action and makes her way over to Ruesse, who she grills in an exchange of low, close words.
Startled moreso by the fact that despite having just received a significant blow to his head his now-opponent is still conscious, K'aus stares wide-eyed up at him, then down at the broken bottle in his hand, then back up. Just in time to lift his eyebrows and take that fist right to the jaw, and maybe it's the downward drive more than the actual force that sinks him to the floor like a sack of bricks. He isn't down long and then he's brandishing that bottle wildly while he tries to regain his legs and holds his other hand to his head to keep it from falling off. After a quick shake he realizes it's in no danger and throws the bottle on the floor so he has both hands free to take an experimental swing at the angry man's face.
Javeri's not doing anything exciting either. Leaning against the bar, sipping her drink, watching for signs of trouble spreading so she can run like the girl she is.
Dulcinea is really not supposed to approve of this sort of thing. Fighting. There's harm in there. Healers are supposed to be very anti-harm sort of people. Anda is definitely an anti-harm sort of person. Murmur. "No, we can't leave. I told you, we have to have a good time first." Murmur. "Well, maybe it'll get better. I don't think it's all bad." Dulcinea cranes her neck, watching closely now. Anda murmurs. "Think of it as practical experience. Maybe one of them will get something broken. I should have brought my kit." Murmur, and a heavy sigh in response from Dulcie. "Yes, if you want to go get it, fine. But I'll know it's an excuse." No more murmurs, there--Anda is just plain bolting for the exit. "And you'd better come back!"
Drunken Stablehand staggers with the force of his own punch, and whirls a bit, blinking in wonderment at the fact that his opponent has disappeared. He casts about for him, and eventually finds him, but just in time to take a blow right across his chubby ossa zygomatica. That's the one that puts him down for the count, for after he staggers against a chair, he slumps to the floor and leans his head against it with a sodden groan.
As soon as the threat is neutralized, June steps in, pulling Petra away from the bar with a gentle hand to her elbow. "Get him out of here. Please," she directs, waving Ruesse over to help, though eventually it's a couple of the man's sheepish friends that come to hoist the hulk of the man to his feet, a time-consuming process. "Livi, you have drink orders, Chidiree, please take over the bar now. Don't worry," she says lightly to a couple of those nearby, planting a short pat on Lachai's arm in particular. "Keep enjoying your drinks. Just a little brawl, nothing to worry about. Dulcinea?" Her voice is raised louder, just for the few seconds it takes for the beckon. The final bit to put to rest, she turns to K'aus and watches his face for the time it takes her to heave a breath. "Free drinks for the kind brownrider, for the rest of the night," she announces toward the bar, though her voice carries far enough that it's sure she wants others to know about this precedent as well.
The kind brownrider is busy shaking his hand like it's on fire, and it probably might as well be for all that burning, and /probably/ couldn't care less about free drinks. But he is indeed facing June when she turns to him, meets her eyes easily and pauses long enough for her to heave a breath, for him to ask her silent questions. By the time she's made her announcement he's flexing his fingers and rolling his shoulder and returning to his place at the bar like he'd never left.
Lachai gives a very serious nod of acceptance when June comes by; his gaze trails the unconscious brawler until a recognized name is called. Scanning the room for where Dulcinea may be, he also takes several steps back towards the bar to raise a reassuring hand to Javeri, though she's likely already able to tell it's over. Healer unfound, even despite his delays, he makes it back to the rider, instead. "Bars, huh," he comments, sweeping a hand through his hair, "I'll never understand the need for it. Anyway, I can't remember what I was saying."
Since things are not getting worse Javeri doesn't run. "Hey, I rarely see fights in bars," she points out with a grin. Her drink is empty, but she's making no effort to get another. "It's nice to get out though. I like to be around people. Until I am sick of them and I go back to my weyr and get away from them." Shaking her head she frowns a moment, but then finds a smile. "I don't remember," she lies with a laugh. "It was probably nothing important. Random bar talk right? You should never have important conversations in bars."
She comes when called, Dulcinea, there's that much to be said for her, even if it's more of a swingy-hipped saunter in that direction than any kind of rush. They're neither of them dead or dying, after all. Well, probably. "I haven't even gotten a drink yet," she tells June as she approaches. K'aus gets not a glance, although the stablehand gets a once-over. "No, don't haul him off yet," she informs his friends, not a request, just superceding June without so much as a by-your-leave. To June herself, "Remember what I told you about head injuries? Sit him up, let him come round, make sure he's not damaged, *then* get rid of him. Or else he ends up collapsed out there someplace drowning in his own vomit." And let's hope that for once she's not doing the foresight thing.
Chidiree swings behind the bar as asked, followed soon by Petra when she's relieved of her assigned duty. Smiles replaced, they go about restarting the booze dealing and therefore the normal flow of the tavern, but as soon as she's handed out a few easily-made drinks, the younger of the two swings by K'aus' spot to lean in and tell him simply, as gruffly as her sweet voice allows, "Hey, thanks." Another scotch clunks down over Chidiree's shoulder and Petra just gives him a nod before they both move away and go about their separate tasks.
June makes her own effort at returning everything to the normal tipsy gaiety, passing calm comments to those still hesitantly looking on, but when the healer reaches them, she abandons that. "Right," she says, letting the Dulcinea go about her business unhindered. Wouldn't do to have someone die on the first night. Very bad press. "Could be a concussion. Do what you need to do," she tells her, though that doesn't stop her from standing a step back and supervising. Meanwhile, Livi shows up with the two beers that June ordered, the free ones for Dulcinea and... well, Dulcinea now.
Caught in the middle of massaging his knuckles, K'aus glances up to catch Chidiree's thanks and return it with a confused look. It's all an act though, since right after that he grudgingly nods too and accepts his free drink. And, leaning, he sips on it and stares down at the bar and presses the back of his hand against the chill of the glass.
"I used to always hear about them," Lachai mentions lightly, like he's not even aware he's saying it. Then he sighs and looks down the bar to see if, perhaps, that first drink is still there. There's no reaction at all to show that he think she's lying, which means he probably doesn't. "Out until you're not. It must be nice, having that place to retreat to so well. But then, I think it was P'draig told me he was never alone. Always something up there." In means the dragons, but all he does is angle a finger at her head to mean so.
Petra works down the bar, making sure that everyone is doing well and getting them refocused on their drinks. Eventually, she reaches the section of bar that supports Javeri and Lachai's conversation. "Anyone need anything here?" she interjects into an available pause, already eyeing Javeri's empty glass.
"Hear about bar fights?" Javeri asks before shaking her head. "I tend to run from them. I don't really like, you know, antagonism and all. People not liking each other? It just sort of brings the whole mood down. I like it when people are getting along." Shoulders shrug and she pushes a braid behind her ear. "It's nice. It's weird. Before I got my own weyr I'd never had my own space but a little almost closet when I lived with my family. A curtain over an alcove. Not real private. And, yea. You're never alone. But it's different for everyone." When the question comes the bluerider shakes her head at Petra. "Oh, no thanks. I've got to get going in a little bit."
"Smelling salts," Dulcinea reflects vaguely in June's direction as she checks over the stablehand. "Should have thought to give you smelling salts. Well, no helping it. He'll come around, I'm guessing. Doesn't look that bad. Although appearances can be deceiving." And then there are drinks, two of them, and Dulcinea only one person. "Where did that girl get to?" A peer over towards the entrance, down the bar, with a frown, now. "Least nobody needs stitches, I suppose. Although, I was sort of hoping for stitches. That would have made it more worth coming."
"Didn't think of that," June remarks to the idea of smelling salts, arms crossing over her waist while she waits for the healer to assess the situation. The bar gets a subtle, quick scan, but mostly her attention is on the offender and his groans. He even manages to burp out a slurred, hardly conscious, "Hey sweetheart," for his attendant healer. He's alive! "Sorry I couldn't be accomodating," she says with a joke in her tone. "Next time I'll have a stitches case for you." Presumptuous, that there will be a next time. "He well enough for me to kick him out yet?" she wonders idly, anxious fingers rattling against her elbow.
Somewhere in there K'aus must have finished his drink because he stands behind June and gazes down at the man on the floor with his blank face on. His, "Hey good party," might come as a surprise, then. And because he doesn't really have anything else to do or say, and because he's just that weird, he turns and makes for the exit.
"I'm fine, I'm still..." Lachai motions Petra towards that other unfinished glass before nodding to Javeri. "Yes, I wasn't raised with much of a concept of personal space, either." He sounds a bit disgruntled about it, too, but that passes. "Different for...? Oh, well, that's not helpful. I suppose I'll never understand it at all. Someone /that/ close to you..." The idea requires thought, a lot of thought, and only part of which Lachai is willing to go through then. Instead, he goes through the familiar motions and then blinks at the bar curiously. "Now you're leaving soon and I still can't believe I came in at all."
"Personal space is weird. But, yea, sorry. Some people are real close to their dragons and others exist together, but aren't, you know? All in each other's pockets all the time. That's Chadamalith and me. We were never tied at the hip." Shoulders shrug and Javeri looks at the bar like she's considering another drink, but then shakes her head. "Always know your limits," she says then with a smile. "And I drank more tonight than normal. I'd love to stay and talk, but I better not. I might say the wrong thing." Frowning for a moment she looks down at her feet. "You're never alone, you know? But you're still...you still know you're alone but for him. Because there's no one else to trust who won't leave you and...and, well, shit. That's the sort of maudlin stuff no one wants to hear. I'll see you later, Lachai. Thanks for braving the masses to seek me out. Next time just leave word if you want and we can meet somewhere you're more comfortable."
"No," Dulcinea says first to June, hard as coal. "You are annoyingly impatient." Pot, kettle. She then lays a solid gaze on the stablehand once more: "Today's date. What is it?" The healer's drink--well, drinks, if Anda doesn't make an appearance again--go ignored entirely. Now is not the time for relaxing. Her priorities are not so thoroughly screwed up as to miss that much. And, working as she is, when K'aus goes to make his exit, her attention seizes on this, goes to grab an arm as he passes. Professionally. Really. "Hey, there, hero, your friend's not the only one to take a blow, sit yourself down and tell me the Weyrleader's name and sit still 'til I can get a light in your eyes. Not going to let you go off and die, either, no matter how much I might like to."
Petra nods at her pair of patrons and moves on to the next. Out on the floor, June purses her lips, draws down her brows at the mess of a man and the fact that he's still in her bar. K'aus' departure, at least his intended departure is noted by an extra inch of frown, an opening of her lips for words that never come. They're preempted by Dulcinea's. She stands frozen there, watching K'aus for a good long moment with an apology in her eyes, even going so far as to bite her lip, but eventually she says, in the most casual way she can, "I'll go be impatient somewhere else." No one could call that tampering, for sure. With one last, meaningful glance toward the brownrider, and a glance for the scum still being tended, she walks off to do her mingling duty and keep up the spirits of the party.
That's where I had to leave, more to be added later.