Difference between revisions of "Logs:A Bottle Or Two"

Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr

Partly sheltered by the curving stone overhang, partly exposed to the weather, the wide stone patio serves as a balcony for socializing or just plain drinking on a sizable scale. The repurposed ledge might once have let two large dragons land, but now there's too much furniture for that: two rustic tables with attendant chairs, plus a couple more in particularly good weather, and a wrought iron bench situated to make the most of the view of the western bowl and the lake beyond.

Other changes include rough little niches carved out of the stone walls to hold glows in colored bottles at night, the climbing plant that's being trained to grow up along the overhang, and the blue ceramic pots of flowers that dot the edge of the ledge as a colorful reminder not to fall off.

An archway leads to the Snowasis itself, housed in the ledge's former weyr, while a few wide steps descend along the wall to the bowl.

A layer of patch clouds covers the sky. The air feels cool and damp, but there is no rainfall today.

Night envelops the Weyr in darkness, both moons providing silvery light, and yet the Snowasis is packed with merry-makers. Most of the bar patrons have crowded into the interior, leaving the garden patio blessedly free of the worst of the rabble and noise. Glows shed subtle illumination on the nearby tables and chairs, one of which is occupied by a skinny brunette. Farideh is perched on the end of one of the attendant chairs, her legs stretched out in front of her. She's slowly drinking from a clear glass that contains a reddish liquid - a quick glance might suggest wine. A couple at the next table over are too busy staring lovingly into each other's eyes to notice the solitary laundress.

It's late. Later, perhaps, that ought to be proper for visitors. And, yet, Weylaughn is here and in style, having opted for somber black and silver for his clothing. His footfalls are whisper-quiet as he makes his way to the patio, a wine glass in one hand and a plate of assorted appetizers in the other. His lips are pursed with thought and his expression is a serious one; heavily weighted, clearly, with the burden of decisions to be made. Or, well, finding a place to sit. There's that. His attention swings from one end of the patio to the other and very nearly miss that seat with a single chair taken - until the couple in the way happen to move, just so, and reveal an empty spot across from that laundress nursing her wine. Seriousness slides into charm and he strides over, making his presence known - at long last - by the calculated creaking of his boots.

Squeaking boots. Interrupting her drinking. Hazel eyes lift from their idle contemplation of the warped stone ledge, finding the visage of Weylaughn as he nears. Farideh purses her lips around a mouthful of wine and regards the newcomer with a sour look. Brown brows quirk in question the closer he gets, and she swallows, with a little noise of irritation. She darts a glance to the side, to the empty chair, then her distantly surprised gaze swings back to the man. Oh.

See, it's that double-take that clinches it. Weylaughn flashes her a positively brilliant smile at that second look - and it's then that he makes his move. The plate is set on the table, the chair is shifted with his free hand, and he has the manners to ask, "Mind if I take this seat?" at the very moment in which he sits. He lifts his glass a little in gratitude for the assumed permission and takes a sip of it. "It's so crowded in there," he explains with a nod toward the inner part of the Snowasis. "And it's much nicer out here. Such a fine, fine view," and never mind the obvious detail that he's not really -looking- anywhere but at Farideh.

"Sur-" Words catch on her lips as he seats himself, not waiting for her approval. That's the first strike. Those lips tug into a displeased grimace. "Yes, the view was so very, very fine." He may notice her use of the past tense, her gaze jerking from his taller form to the bowl beyond the ledge. Farideh shifts so she can cross one leg over the other. "There 'are' other seats," she supplies none-too-sweetly, slanting her eyes his way, with the barest glimmer of a mirthless smile curving her mouth. "I'm sure the view from 'those' are just as well." Nighttime has descended on the Weyr. Farideh and Weylaughn are seated at one of the tables on the garden patio ledge, each with their own glass of wine. Only one other couple occupies the ledge, whereas the Snowasis is bustling with noise and activity.

The plate of assorted foodstuffs is nudged a little closer to Farideh, while Weylaughn shifts just enough in his chair to be properly postured and all. Appearances! "Are there?" He makes a fine show of looking left and right and back to center to square his lopsided grin directly on Farideh. "Well. I'm already seated and getting up to go somewhere else just seems... silly, don't you think?" The wine glass shifts to his other hand, allowing him to offer his newly freed one toward Farideh, palm up, as if in placation. As if to prove he's not completely a wherry, he adds, "I can lean if you'd prefer to see what's behind me, but Faranth knows it'll make drinking wine difficult."

L'sha climbs the stairs to his favorite haunt, the Snowasis, to relax after a long, hard day's work. As he passes by, he notices a couple of unfamiliar faces on the patio ledge. The young man in particular seems to draw his attention, so he decides to be sociable before having drinks. He walks over to the pair and smiles warmly. "Hello there. I don't think I've seen either of you two around before, are you new to the Weyr? I'm L'sha, by the way, green Rillaeth's rider."

Bribes won't get him anywhere, even if that fruit roll looks delicious. Snubbing his attempt at breaking the ice, Farideh leans back in her chair and takes a long drink. She surfaces from her wineglass as he extends his hand, palm up, which causes a frown and a crinkling of her brow. "I'm-" again, she's cut off, this time by the presence of the greenrider. That's strike two. An annoyed flick of her eyes to L'sha, followed by an exasperated sigh. "L'sha, green Rillaeth's rider. I've heard the name. I'm Farideh, I work in the illustrious laundry." It's followed by a dramatic eyeroll and a glower sent the black-haired Weylaughn's way.

Well, then. Despite his offers being turned down, Wey's smile is just dialed up all the more. It can't be helped. And then there's the greenrider, manifesting with all the manners his present tablemate - and himself, let's be honest - apparently lack. That smile is promptly turned on L'sha and he even goes so far as to stand and offer a shallow bow to the other man. "Well met, L'sha. I'm Weylaughn, visiting on business from, ah- Crom Hold." The complications of that business seem to catch his tongue a little, and he smooths it with a quick drink. "I was just telling - Farideh, is it? - that the view here is lovely."

L'sha looks a bit nonplussed as the young man bows to him, then a slight, amused smirk appears on his lips. "Well met, Weylaughn, and welcome to High Reaches!" He gets a better look at Farideh. "Oh, yes, I think I've seen you around in the caverns. Guess I didn't recognize you without the huge baskets of dirty laundry under your arms. Nice to meet you!" He slips into a seat between the two. "You've heard my name? What've you heard? Nothing good, I expect." He grins merrily, then turns back to Weylaughn. "Oh yes, very nice view, especially at sunset. Quite romantic." His eyebrows quirk slightly. "'Course, I'm used to the views from a few hundred lengths up, but it's not bad."

The exchange between the two men gets another lip pucker from the laundress, dissatisfied even. "Yes, I'm the girl who carries around the dirty laundry," Farideh says, unpleasant smile and all, but she easily slips back into lounging, observing the greenrider and Weylaughn. "I've heard the name only. In passing. Sort of how one hears about the Headwoman's assistants or the bartenders." With that, she gently twirls her glass by its stem, her expression deeply pensive.

The dark-haired Holder settles into his seat, straight-backed posture and all. Weylaughn slants a look to Farideh for a lingering moment, his mouth crooked to a side - and then he's sipping from his wine. Appraisal finished, he motions at the plate of appetizers and treats. "Please, help yourself, L'sha. I got entirely too many - and it looks as if the lovely laundress here isn't hungry." As for him? He'll take the fruit roll she was eyeing earlier and take a single, small bite out of it. "So, what -is- the view like up there? I didn't see too much when I was flown in, but it's hard to see with the goggles and everything. Have you ever been up there?" Part one for the greenrider, part two for the laundress, and part three is replaced with another bite of pastry and a thoughtful hum.

L'sha puts a reassuring hand out towards Farideh, palm down. "Oh, sweetie, I didn't mean anything by that. After all, that was pretty much me just a few turns ago. Trust me, I know exactly how you feel. It's hard work, and thankless. Raw, pruned fingers, stained sheets, and the 'smells.'" That last word is whispered. "Don't mind if I do," he says, as he pops a spiderclaw into his mouth and smiles at Weylaughn. "It's 'stunning,' really. Especially on clear days, you can see for hundreds of miles in every direction. Really gorgeous, especially watching the sun set. And I get to do it every day! Unless it rains, of course."

"You worked in the laundry?" Farideh sounds dubious, marking the greenrider with a brisk, flippant stare. "I haven't heard about that." She seems hesitant to take his word at face value, but she's distracted by Weylaughn's words enough to shift her focus that way and away from the mysterious terms of L'sha's background. "I'm not." Beat. "Hungry." But she sounds angry and defensive about it, for whatever reason. "I've seen it a few times," she mumbles into her wine, stealing quick glances at both men. "It's alright." Sullen. She sounds very, very sullen, taking small sips and letting her eyes bounce anywhere else in their general vicinity.

There's a soft, thoughtful, "Hnh," of a sound and Weylaughn's eyebrows climb up with dubious lopsidedness. "Really? I suppose I'll have to find some way to see that some day." He idly swirls the contents of his glass around and proceeds to take another swig, only to find the glass distressingly empty. This is far more disconcerting than the sullen young woman at the table or the discussion of laundering by the rider. It's enough to urge him to his feet and announce, "I'm getting some more of this," his glass is lifted demonstratively. "Would either of you care for something?" Not that he'll give much time for answers; his declaration is made while he's already on the move.

L'sha shrugs, "Well, among a bunch of other things. I'm a weyrbrat, so I was fostered in the caverns. I did just about everything down there, in the kitchens, the storerooms, watching the littles, you name it, I did it." He looks up as Weylaughn stands to refill his glass. "Oh, would you be a dear and pour me a glass of Benden Red?"

Tonight the Snowasis is in full swing. People are packed into the large cavern, filling the table and bar with plenty of noise. Few are outside on the garden patio. Farideh, L'sha, and Weylaughn just happen to be one small group of two - the other being a couple making out at the table next to theirs. Farideh is relaxing in her chair, holding a partially empty wineglass. L'sha is sitting near her. Weylaughn has just gotten up to retrieve more drinks. "How unfortunate," Farideh says simply to L'sha, not sharing his unaffected attitude towards weyrlife. She does, however, lift her glass to the man-on-the-move with a sarcastic smile. "Anything will do."

"I'll just get a bottle... or two," is tossed over Wey's shoulder with a grin flashed to L'sha. That smile is shared with Farideh for just a few seconds longer - an attempt, perhaps, to either bolster her mood or reassure her that, no, he's not going to poison her. Or something. And then he's gone, descending into the belly of the stuffed Snowasis. Faranth only knows how long it'll take for him to return!

Fortunately H'vier doesn't come out of the Snowasis at the same time Weylaughn is heading in. It's fortunate because the bronzerider looks pretty legit drunk, not exactly bouncing off the wall of the doorway onto the patio, but certainly brushing against it and reaching out a hand to make the wall help him with balance. He pauses there. Walking while drunk needs concentration. And it gives him a chance to take in the passing scenery of a young woman's butt as she walks by with a friend.

L'sha returns Weylaughn's grin. "Make it two!" He shrugs to Farideh. "Well, it wasn't too bad, really, once you get used to it. And there are perqs to working in the lower caverns. I've seen plenty of girls get Searched, and you can usually hook up with someone after a flight ends and the losing riders stagger into the..." He trails off a bit and his face freezes a bit as H'vier approaches.

"Hook up?" Something about the phrase makes Farideh turn and give the greenrider a disgusted frown. It's while she's staring that she notices his reaction to something - over there, at the Snowasis's entrance. Her head turns, elbow balanced precariously on her chair's arm; an elbow that slips and causes the laundress to swear, even as she notices, with surprise, who is using the wall to keep from falling down. Lips pursing, she leans towards L'sha, to whisper, "Maybe you should go help that guy, he doesn't look too good." Not that many dragonriders leaving the bar 'ever' look too good, but, live in the moment as it were.

Two, it is. And a nearly full glass for Wey, with an empty one also in hand. It takes some creative fingerwork to keep the bottles and glasses from going all a-tumble, but the young man manages it well enough - somehow. He's graceful, if nothing else! But he's given just a bit of pause as he realizes the patio is a bit more crowded than he left it and he takes a moment to consider the imbibable offerings in hand. He glances over his shoulder in a moment of rare contemplation - but that moment passes and he treks to the table to put the bottles down and present L'sha with, shock of shocks, the full glass he already has. "A fine Benden for you and- ah. You! What'll you have? I hope it's wine, because that's all I've got." That's cast toward H'vier, with a lofting of eyebrows in curiosity. One bottle is uncorked and he cants his head toward Farideh. "I hope this will do your bad mood in."

Hand still pressed against the nearest wall, H'vier closes his eyes to refocus once there are no more butts to look at. When they open again, he starts shuffling his way slowly in the direction of the stairs that lead down to the bowl. But there's a moment where he glances in the direction of Farideh and her entourage and he pauses again like there's something about something that he recognizes. He just can't place it.

L'sha's eyes widen in horror as Farideh suggests that he go and help H'vier. He stares at the woman and shakes his head almost imperceptibly. As Weylaughn returns with the wine, he looks overjoyed, as if it's his Turnday. "Oh, how wonderful! Why thank you, kind sir!" He takes a sip and mmmms, but his eyes still flicker nervously in H'vier's direction. Oh, Faranth, he's coming over here.

Wine! Glasses! Farideh positively glows with excitement, sucking in a breath as she looks over Weylaughn's spoils. But there's just the small issue of the drunken bronzerider to deal with. Those stairs are pretty dangerous, given he can't even stand up straight. She sucks in her bottom lip, glancing between L'sha and Weylaughn. "What are you two? Useless? You can't see he needs help? What if he breaks his neck falling down those stairs? Are either of you going to take responsibility?" Stubborn chin jerks first to L'sha then to Weylaughn. With a sigh, she stands and makes to move towards H'vier herself. Sooner that's done, sooner she can get to drinking wine. "You. Uh." She looks back at L'sha, wonderingly; does he know the man's name? "Get away from there," with a frantic wave of her hand. Oh, yeah, this is going wonderfully.

Oh, confusion. How it blossoms on Weylaughn's face! He still manages a dip of his head in lieu of a bow to L'sha, with a mild, "My pleasure," and then his attention shifts directly back to Farideh. Still. There's a sidelong look angled toward the other rider and his lips purse. "-Do- you need help?" His accent is mostly Cromese with a slight dialectical twist. "He might not -need- help," is shot sharply back to Farideh. "See? He's managing well enough on his own." He waits until someone else makes an actual move to do the helping while he helps in his own way: namely, by filling glasses and- that's about it, really.

L'sha looks as though he'd rather cuddle a tunnelsnake than touch H'vier. He takes another sip of his wine, looks at it sadly and sighs, then stands up, but doesn't move toward the bronzerider. He gets the hint from Farideh. "He's H'vier, bronze Reisoth's. You need any help there, sir?" Oh shards I hope not.

It's not like he's moving that fast! He's been drunk before! And he's too busy watching Farideh moving toward him to be in terribly imminent danger of falling to his death. Sorry, guys! "What?" is his brilliant response to the series of questions and comments sent in his direction. "Need to sit down. I know you," the last is added with the hand not holding himself against the wall pointed in Farideh's direction.

That hand that was waving is held out - see! He does need help! Farideh gives Weylaughn an I-told-you-so look, which she gives to L'sha too for good measure. "H'vier," she says, testing out the name, and pasteing on a charitable smile for the dragonrider's sake, "come sit over here. There's wine. It's comfortable." She pulls out her vacated chair and motions that he should take a seat, but that's all she does, before handling her new glass of whatever Weylaughn brought back from the bar. "I think you might be mistaken," she supplies for H'vier, and then a thoughtful hum after she tastes the new wine. "What is this? Benden? Tillek?"

"See? He's fine." I-told-you-so looks not withstanding, of course. Weylaughn is immune to those, see? He glances at L'sha for a moment of mutual something-or-another - solidarity in -not- helping the guy that needs no help? - and then his attention shifts back to the rider and the young woman. His glass remains in hand for the duration of the escapade and he also remains standing, having forgotten that he had a chair. "Benden," is the answer he tosses at Farideh with a raised eyebrow. "What else -is- there? Would you rather I go down for a Tillekian red instead?" Shudder.

No. H'vier doesn't seem to think he's mistaken. Which is downright certainty as drunk people go. But, screw it, he'll sit, slouching down into the chair and leaning against one side so his hand can come up and hold his face. Perfect for conversation. So long as no one minds him talking through his hand. "Thanks," he offers, belatedly, like he's having some trouble keeping up with what's going on.

L'sha does that frozen look of terror and head-shaking thing again at Farideh, silently mouthing the word "No!" He looks up to the heavens for help as the bronzerider is led over to a chair, then seems to sink into his own chair. He takes a large gulp of wine. He focuses his attention on Weylaughn instead. "It's a lovely vintage, you have very good taste! So what sort of business brings you to High Reaches?"

Both moon and glowlight provide lighting on this night at the garden patio ledge. Laughter and booming voices fill the air, echoing from the direction of the Snowasis; it's packed for another night in a row. Two tables on the ledge are filled - one with a couple who are close to being obscene, and the other with a hodgepodge of weyrfolk. Weylaughn has recently brought over bottles of wine and glasses. H'vier has just stumbled over, aided to a chair by Farideh, who has her hip propped up against the table as she takes dainty sips from her own wineglass. She watches L'sha, her eyes narrowed in a suspicious way. "Benden is always preferable to Tillekian wine. I wouldn't dare ask such a request." She slants a sardonic smile-and-glance Weylaughn's way, her mood, obviously, not improved. A small sigh escapes her lips as she looks over at the drunken dragonrider, and her own eyes roll skyward. "Hey," as she kicks the bottom of his chair, "don't pass out. I don't think either of these jerks would carry you home. You'll end up stuck out here until morning and who 'knows' who would find you then." Maybe Giorda. The horror.

It's probably for the best, in the end. Another joins the table and Weylaughn is at the perfect angle to see, well, everything. Like the despair on L'sha's face and H'vier's hand on his face and also Farideh putting wine in her face. -Everything-. It also means he's able to spot the brownrider that pops his head in - or out, technically - to the patio area. A motion from the rider has him frowning. The glass is left on the table and he steps aside to meet with the other man. Conversation is had, low-pitched as such conversations tend to be and, when it's done, he returns only briefly to the table to tell L'sha, "Family-related business, you could say. And Weyr-related. It's- I need to speak with the Weyrleaders. But I've just been informed it's too late - and that I need to find -somewhere- to stay for the night until they can find space." Sleeping in the residential area? Not for -this- visiting Holder. "Enjoy the wine, though! It's one of my mother's favorites - and one of mine, too." That, of course, is for everyone - with a pointed smile angled to Farideh - even if he is starting to make his way out.

Maybe it's the familiar faces, or more likely the mention of wine that draws the scribe to the Patio ledge on her way from the records room. The party, draws her attention and she's approaching, with a finger wave for Farideh, just as another soul departs. "Tillek can produce good vintages, but it's hard to compete with Benden wine." She says as she steps up behind the green rider, surprise. Her mouth quirking, "So who was that?"

H'vier jerks when his chair is kicked like he possibly was falling asleep. But he only sends a sort of sloppy glare in Farideh's direction, hand falling away from his face afterwards and has he even noticed there was a guy here that's leaving now? Hard to say. H'vier does shift his gaze in L'sha's direction. And what he probably thinks is a glance might end up being more of a stare to everyone outside of his drunk bubble.

L'sha looks a bit disappointed as Weylaughn stands to leave. "Well, nice meeting you, Weylaughn. Maybe you could talk to the Headwoman to see if she has any suitable quarters. Or maybe..." He shakes his head, cutting off his next thought. That would be too forward. He gives another nervous glance at H'vier, glad the bronzerider seems too drunk to recognize a male greenrider in his presence. He looks up as Edyis speaks, ending up craning his neck back to look at her upside-down. "Oh, hi, sweetie! How're you? Haven't seen you around in a while."

Is that a smile Farideh is trying to hide behind her wineglass? Might be. Her eyes, one brow quirked in amusement, follow the Holder's exit from the patio. Interesting. "Hm?" she asks distractedly, blinking a few times as her eyes alight upon Edyis, "Who was who?" There's too much going on to focus on any one thread of conversation. She lets her eyes drift to L'sha and his eager recognition of the scribe; since they're busy chatting, she turns and bends down, staring up-close - as close as she can get anyway - into drunk H'vier's face. "Just how many drinks have you had, you idiot?" Then, she tsks.

"Been better, Master Jeroman has been working me to death ever since I got back from Monaco. How's Rillaeth and wing life suiting you?" She tones softly, grabbing an empty seat next to L'sha. "The one that just left, mentioned vintages and talking to the Weyrleaders about family business." Edyis twirls a finger before snagging one of the bottles and a glass, and helping herself. No one is going to argue right? She studies the bronzerider and Farideh with mute amusement as she listens.

L'sha takes another sip of wine and offers Edyis a seat next to him. "Oh, poor dear. Well, try not to work 'too' hard." He waves a hand in the departing holder's direction. "That was Weylaughn, he's a holder from Crom, here on...some sort of hold business. So how was Monaco? I guess you hitched a ride with Savannah when they came back here?"

Considering that H'vier's reactions are somewhat stunted by his inebriation, Farideh can probably get pretty close before he's trying to lean back away from her and lift a hand at the same time. "Fuck, woman, I don't know. Not enough." He's still conscious! But too many because he can't get back to his weyr, which has left him stranded here.

"That one." Now they're going somewhere. "I wonder what he was up to. What Holder actually comes to a Weyr to talk to the Weyrleaders?" Farideh asks, like she knows. She snorts and moves back a step, away from the bronzerider, so she can half-sit on the ledge of the table where all the wine and glasses are; that's a bad move, and doesn't bode well for all that glass. "It's good to know you've got some of that wonderful attitude still intact." Her hand gropes around for one of the half-filled, abandoned glasses, which she thrusts at the already drunken H'vier. "Here, if it's not enough, you should fix that." That's an innocent smile, really.

"Wonder what a Cromese holder wants with Reaches, especially since he's too good for the resident barracks." More of an observation than social commentary, or at least it's intended as such. It could be she's lost her filter. "No Savannah left before I did, I got back just after Hraedhyth's clutch hatched. Monaco just isn't as fun." Edyis quips, swirling the glass and scenting the wine before taking a delicate sip. "Right?" Lifting her glass in Farideh's direction, "It would be one thing if it were like the Rone situation, but to my knowledge Crom hasn't had any issues I've heard of. " There's a snicker as wine gets shoved at H'vier.

L'sha shrugs at Farideh, then at Edyis. "Who knows what holders get up to? I certainly don't, nor do I care to. He was quite good-looking, though, don't you think?" He grins at Edyis. "Of course! Nowhere is as fun as here. Oh!" He suddenly stands up as a blue dragon lands in the bowl near the patio. Rillaeth immediately croons to the blue and sidles up next to him. "It's K'ren. Love to stay and chat, but I have to go. He drains his wineglass and stands. "Edyis, want to meet in the Snowasis later? I'll buy you a drink. Nice to meet you, Farideh." H'vier gets a curt nod. The greenrider walks over to the stairs with a little bounce in his step, then meets the blue's rider and heads up to the bar hand-in-hand with him.

If he were less drunk, H'vier might notice that Farideh references being familiar with his attitude already. As it is, he only snorts some unflattering sound. And accepts the glass that's pushed into his space. "You gonna take me back to your bed if I drink this?" He somehow still manages to make this sound suggestive. Even if there's a very good chance that he wouldn't do more than pass out. Possibly before getting to her bed.

"Mhm," Farideh muses, taking a long drink as she looks up at the sky, at all the glittering stars overhead. "It's definitely odd. Cromese in the Reaches, making plans with the Weyrleaders. Hm." For now, they'll just have to conjecture, as the object of their fascination has fled. She settles her gaze more firmly on H'vier, trying her best not to laugh into her Benden red. "So you can throw up in it? I don't think that would be a wise choice. What do you think, Edyis?" His drunken antics are a source of amusement for the laundress now, as she watches him with a genuine smile and eyes lit from within with good-humor. "Drink. You'll feel better." Surely, she's not taking advantage of his drunkenness. Surely.

If Edyis had a comment on what holders get up to she bites it back in favor of a sweet smile. "Of course, I will see you around L'sha." Of course it isn't long before H'vier's question earns an eyebrow lift from the young scribe, "I think you'd be a better woman than I to let him." Because clearly it would only be out of pity since the poor man is stranded and not with any expectation of anything else in her opinion. That or the idea of a bed hog really doesn't appeal to her. "She's not wrong, the best cure for too much wine is more wine." She's taking Farideh's side on this one.

H'vier drinks the wine. Because it's there and why wouldn't he drink it? It's probably not the wine's fault that he says something mostly unintelligible, though, and leans forward to rest his head against his arms after they've folded into such a comfortable pillow on the table. He just needs to rest his eyes for a few minutes. Don't worry about him. Unless he stops breathing.

Another one bites the dust. It's with a sigh that Farideh relinquishes her spot sitting on the table and turns to face Edyis, twirling her glass by the stem again. "Pitiful. Can't handle themselves sober or drunk." She considers the graveyard of wineglasses and wine bottles on their table, with a pout, and then diverts her gaze to the scribe. "I think we need more drinks. Want to join me at the bar? I'm sure there's at least one or two drunken riders left to buy us something."

And he passed out. "Well that's lovely." In a passed out, drooling on the table sort of way, "I find myself never bored around you Farideh, you certainly know how to send a man into the table." Laughing, now Edyis sips her wine. "Mm, that does sound like a plan. You'll have to teach me the trick though of getting them to buy."

An infectious laugh bubbles out of the laundress as she steps away from the dragonrider and towards the still-crowded drinking establishment. "It's all in your words and body language." Farideh waits for Edyis to fall in step beside her before she moves off towards the Snowasis, leaving behind H'vier and their messy table. Some drudge, somewhere, is wishing them ill. "Just follow my lead," she says gleefully, slipping between warm bodies and angling herself towards the beloved Reaches bar.