Flight Fallout - Take 2

Xanadu Weyr - Wanderin' Wherry Tavern

It is often whispered in the crowds that converge here, that a certain Weyrleader was asked what he wanted in the remodeling of the pub that was not so long ago given a refreshing. He muttered back over the rim of his ever-present mug, "I don't care what you do with the place, just so long as there is plenty of ale." With that in mind, cask after cask of ale lines the walls of the tavern, the remodeler's idea of a jest. As they age, the casks bring a real rustic atmosphere to the pub, along with the deeply wooden flavor that seems to be the theme throughout.
The lighting is dim, as it should be in all good pubs, and the tables and chairs are plentiful. A long mahogany bar, intricately carved with runner beasts, stands vigilant duty at the head of the bar, lined with stools for those patrons that seek the bartender's company.

Living in Ierne Darsce knows, at least in theory, about the strong lust broadcasted by goldflights but it's unlikely that she's ever experienced it herself. It's quite likely that her mother, being a goldrider herself has managed, by the time they were old enough to feel the overwhelming tug, to take her girls away with her on Quirinth when one of the other queens stationed there rose. Perhaps also arranged beforehand, when the same glowed, an obliging greenrider would have whisked the girls off for several hours. Visiting Xanadu, the last thing on her mind has been the dragons, really. There are so many new guys- errrr people to get to know and so when Seryth takes to the pens she's here in the Tavern reading a fashion magazine that she's brought from Ierne and sipping something strong and fruity. And feeling very odd, pausing now and then to rake fingers that tremble slightly though her long blonde hair.

Goldflights are a for sure thing for bronzes, which is why Ers'lan has managed to ignore the incredible pull on his senses to go find Thea, simply because he knew the chances of Zhaoth catching were slim to none. The brown had only won his first flight six or seven short months back. The wingleader, acting, of Galaxy plods through the tavern flinging off his jacket to the nearest bar stool empty, heat showing in his face by the crimson flush there. Already motioning for his pal, Beldar, to fetch him a stiff drink, muttering about 'long nights ahead,' his eyes are scanning the room. Just because Thea wasn't there didn't mean his urges weren't in full force and neither of his weyrmates were able to console him in the ways he would need after this. Thus, his blue eyes travel and rest upon Darsce. Pretty faces are certainly this man's forte. Passing off marks to Beldar, he takes a deep breath and downs the entire thing in one shot. The flight was starting, the blood lust settling into his veins as Zhaoth was taking his kills down. Ordering another, Beldar is there with a bottle in hand, taking his glass and giving it to Ers'lan. Glances are exchanged and then the brownrider is moving. He keeps moving, with bold purpose, to Darsce's table, sleuthing his way over. "Evenin'…" he starts with a seafarring accent thick in his undertones, "Reckon ya …needin some company…?" his hand sliding to rest on the back of her chair, the other poised with his drink.

D'had frequents the tavern often enough that its not all that odd for him to show up, particularly given the goings on outside. A stiff drink is in order if he's going to stay sane. He, for one, was certainly not looking for his daughter in the place and until he has drink in hand he's not even scanning the place for someone to occupy him while his own werymate is otherwise engaged in an even stronger pull of dragonic influence

Ah, lustful urges, the desire, the need. The intense feeling — well, this greenrider knows just how that feels, with her own most recent flight not so long past, won as nearly always by Taozyuth. In her own good time, of course, she'll be returning to the weyrbarn she calls home, there to assuage and soothe the needs of a bronzerider most needing to be soothed and given relief, but as to why she's brought herself to the tavern, it's Natali's own answer for herself, that muttered softly under her breath as she sidles up to the bar. "Can't even /drink/" are the exact words spoken. "Just give me something … tart that doesn't have booze in it." Of course, it means she's likely to end up with some extremely sour lemonade or something, but with drink in hand, she's moving away to find a table.

Darsce's attention is fixed in a sort of unfocused daze on the page in front of her, fingers left mid-rake through her hair on either side of her head, elbows propping themselves on the tabletop and pretty oblivious, at least for the moment, of everyone in the place. So she misses her father's entrance, the brownrider's approach, the greenrider's murmur - everything. She's flushed herself, the pink color creeping up neck to creamy cheeks telling that her temperature is rising to a slow but sure burn. The voice behind her startles her enough that she jumps a little, lifts iceblue eyes to see Ers'lan there and… actually purrs aloud before she can stifle it as her gaze slides over his face, shoulders… Then she gets a flash of her normal haughty self back, tips her nose in the air and answers coolly, "Need?… is the wrong question, try again."

Ers'lan has a rumble of a chuckle in his chest as he moves aside from her chair, grabbing a free chair from the opposite table to spin it around, sitting on it backwards as he positions it next to her, with his arms crossed over and his whiskey balanced on top. "Did narh mean ta scare ya m'lady," his smirk that he offers is of the charming type, not completely laying it on thick yet, but thick enough to bait her with, or so he hopes. His eyes pivot back toward what she was reading then back up, offerin, "Looks like I be needin yer company. Pretty lass like yerself should narh be drinkin alone-" a mention as his eyes wander toward her fruity drink. As for D'had and Natali, well, he's targeted Darsce, like she was the gold in which his brown were chasing.

The wingleader has time to flirt as D'had hasn't yet put two and two together to realize that Darsce is about. Rather, as he turns from the bar, the first female his dark eyes happen to land upon is Natali. As she's walking towards a table he comes up behind, and a little bolder than Ers'lan he doesn't simply strike up conversation, he also drops an arm around the young woman's shoulders as he turns a grin on her, "Keep me company, hmm?" For once he's not in the mood to drink alone. "Girl shouldn't have ta sit alone."

Natali gives a little start, the soft sashay of hip as she walks a rather provocative beacon of well … provacativeness. Healthy girl, committed relationship or no, well, she'll flaunt it cause she's got it. As D'had's arm falls across her shoulder, she leans into the contact, at least for a moment before she's able to identify the source, and once noted, even then she doesn't quite pull away. "Well, can't say that I wouldn't mind the company," she returns to the bluerider with a wry smile. "Keep you company for a while, at least till Nash gets here." Because she knows sure as night follows day, her man will be there, regardless of a win or not. Taking a sip of her drink, she wrinkles her nose. "Guess when they mean tart, they mean tart. This stuff's sour." Her brown eyes flick towards the chairs. "Have a seat?" No, she won't be sitting in his lap.

Darsce's hand is lifted to raise her forefinger in contradiction, "Correction, you startled me, there is a difference!" And yet she shifts her chair a little towards his chair anyway, eyes half closing as she watches him through her lashes, a small seductive smile forming on her lips even while her gaze lifts to the bar. When she spots her father and makes eye contact, the blue of her eyes is a storm of bright emotions and confusion but she doesn't call out to him, although there is a blink for his arm around her brother's… weyrmate? Her hand lowers to pluck at her shirt front, fanning herself while murmuring, "It's hot in here!"

As the flight continues and rages outside with dragons powering passed one another in hopes to ensnare the gold, Ers'lan is fighting the sensation to get lost completely in the flight, but the lust has gone too far already not to react. The seductive smile is really all that he needs for him to become bold and daring. His whiskey is tossed back, strong sharp tastes counter balancing the urges driving him mad. Putting the glass down, he swings up from the chair, catching her raised hand she used to make her contradiction, pulling her up swiftly to meet him. He's pretty strong and even if she resists the pull of his hand, his other arm is quickly wrapping around her to settle his hand on the small of her back, pressing her toward him. "Aye, tis hot… t'will only get worse iffin we dun narh do somethin bout it…" And for him that is one outcome, which starts with his face closing in to lay a kiss on her lips - soft but with the distinct press of passion but hurried as well, as if time was their enemy. So be it too then that his hand upon her lower back settles lower, to squish her nicely formed backside.

D'had chuckles, aiming to leave a quick peck on Natali's temple, "He's a good boy," he comments in reply to her mention of his son. His foot snags one of those nearby chairs, pulling it out for the greenrider before finding the one next to it for himself. That is, until he spots Darce not so far away. He's going to be good and not butt in on her business - for now. He's going to give her her space even if his attention is split between keeping an eye on the blonde and flirting with the greenrider. Enough is enough though and when Ers'lan makes his move D'had makes his - glass slamming to the table in the same movement that brings him to his feet. A second later he's at their table and there's nothing gentle about the way he grabs the rider's wrist to remove it from his daughter's behind. "Ahem."

Natali's lips curve into a teasing little smile. "D'had," the greenrider grins sweetly at him, "you don't know /how/ good he is." Well, of course the man wouldn't. That would be wrong. "He's the best. Although I suppose I ought to say it runs in the family." But how would she know, really? Some flattery there for her weyrmate's father perhaps? Plopping herself down into the chair, she takes another swig, making another face. "I wish I could drink, I really really could use something stronger than this." But she can't. Healer's orders. "Besides, it'd just come back up anyway. Everything does, sooner or later." Darsce's voice, and Ers'aln's has the greenrider glancing towards the sudden surge of activity over at that table. "Oooooohooo," comes her rather wickedly amused chortle. "Someone's going to be in soooo much trouble." Because there's D'had. Yep. Trouble all right.

Darsce is caught completely off-guard by the brownrider's swift move, so there's really no struggle from her to be had - at least for the moment. She does squeak a breath later though, lips pressing closed in a firm line of displeasure at being manhandled. Her eyes flare wide open at that kiss and her other hand lifts to slap the man when things simply go oddly out of kilter for her and the hand is left mid-strike in the air as her eyes slide shut for a second. Then she's pushing at his shoulder with that hand and squirming to both get away… and not get away at the same time. Caught in the confusing mix of what's going on overhead and her own values. She's vaguely aware her father is there in the room, but that's about it. And it really is too bad she's missing Natali's comments. She could ask the question she's been dying to ask. Shoot.

From the press of a smoking hot woman in his arms, that while she seems caught off guard doesn't immediately jam her knee into his crotch or anything… to the irritating sting of his wrist being twisted back and pried loose. It was one of those things that as his eyes came unglued from Darsce filled with lust to a sudden sparkle and gleam of anger and ire, glared at the one responsible. The former sailor gives an audible growl as he wrenches his wrist free from D'had's grip, eyes flashing toward Darsce. This was his catch, he wasn't going to share. See, he doesn't realize the relationship at this point. Instead, his grip on Darsce falls off only to push her behind him, as if -he- was going to protect her from this intrusion. Eyes on D'had, "Mind yer own business thar 'mate, before I mind it fer ya." Territory and claim staked.

Sadly Darsce was Donn's territory long before Ers'lan ever thought he could claim her and with heightened emotions of the flight above them, it does not bode well for the brownrider. Sorry Natali, he didn't mean to ignore you, though that compliment sent his way isn't lost before he's pulled away and does receive a grin and a wink. His attention now is focused in a hard glare at Ers'lan as he talks back at him. Mind his own business indeed. "She is my business," he growls lowly even as he takes a swing at the wingleader.

Oh, ignore away! It's actually preferable for Natali this way, it means she gets to enjoy the entertainment here in the tavern, even as Sicealth is giving her the blow-by-blow accounting of what's happening in the skies above. There's another wicked little chortle from the greenrider, she leaning forward in her chair to watch the brawl begin. "Sooo soooo sooo much trouble," comes her little singsong commentary. "Get him, D'had!" She's rooting for the bluerider in this case, apparently. She knows what side her bread is buttered on, see. Root for 'family' so to speak. And since Ers'lan isn't in her wing — sorry, boyo — she's just not that keen on him.

Beldar has his toughs on duty tonight and like every other night since the last brawl which destoryed a fair number of table, chairs, and booze. As the brownrider is a regular in the tavern, he has spent many an hour talking to Beldar, coming to respect the guy. So while Lan has his chest puffed out and means to defend his turf, as it were, he didn't anticipate it would get beyond a verbal wrestling match so quickly. As such, the wingleader is off guard and the swing lands with a head shaker of a blow that has him pitching sideways and catching himself on the table, glass dropped with a shattering tinkle to announce to the whole tavern something had gone down! Flight tensions running high, the brownrider readjusts himself, standing up with a hand rubbing at his jaw, face now showing a puffy and split lip. "-Outside-" is the terse growl from Ers'lan now, shoulders rolling forward as if he wasn't going to take no for an answer, but it was an challenge to fight, fair and square, especially with those bouncers nearing the situation. The prize they were fighting over? Potentially forgotten as rage takes over lust.

As she's shoved behind the brownrider Darsce manages to flash her father one very bewildered and lost look, probably the first time in turns he's seen her eyes frightened save when it was as a very young child waking from a nightmare. Perhaps thinking to make her escape, she sidles around the other side of the brownrider, in the direction of Natali's table which isn't much farther than several steps away, making a dive for the sanctuary of hiding underneath it as those punches start flying.

D'had might not have taken it further than that if Ers'lan hadn't pushed for a fight. "Happy to," he growls back at that 'request' to take things outside. He's not about to turn is back on the younger man though he does spare a glance for Darsce's movement. "Take 'er home," is his gruff order to the greenrider. He's far more likely to trust her with his girl than some rider who's trying to take advantage of the situation. "Don't push yer luck rider," he snorts, his attention once again fully on the wingleader.

Ers'lan's eyes slide toward Darsce as D'had tells someone else to take her home, oh, Natali. Pretty thing over there. Eyes snap back to D'had however, since that was his threat. "Good…" is his cold reply, shoving a chair aside as he steps through the broken glass, making his way outside, not stopping to look back to see if D'had was going to chicken out or not. But he's also put his back to the older man. Either way, he kicks the door open on his way through, luckily no one was on either side of it. Fighting is one way to release tension of flight emotions, it would do.

"Shards and shells!" Natali lets out a yelp, slamming her knees sideways as she scoots her chair away from the table, even as Darsce's diving for shelter underneath it. "There's not enough room under those things for you and my legs!" she doesn't sound too put out though, her head coming up at the sound of shattering glass, and she's dipping her head in a terse nod in D'had's direction at his orders to see to it that his daughter gets home. "Least you won't have to worry about me," she comments cheerily then, peering under the table at the younger girl beneath it, flashing her a cheeky smile. "You need anything first? Drink? Food?"

D'had stalks after Ers'lan, glass crunching under his boots. A hand raises to stave off the tavern hands, he's not looking to cause trouble for Beldar and they're taking it to the yard. While he could take advantage of the younger man turning his back, and certainly would have when he was the same age as the other, he doesn't - at least not until he's across the threshold…

They're intent on taking it outside and continuing and thus since things don't come crashing down all around her, Darse pokes her head out from under the table and just stares at the two men. Then she sends a bit of a wide-eyed look at Natali for the question of food, mouth agape. Who could eat right now? Her voice is a touch shaky but a whole lot determined as she says, "We have to stop them! My father has only one good hand - he's not supposed to hurt the other one again!" And she's scrambling out from under that table to go chase after them, fully expecting the greenrider to help her. There's a brief hesitation as she's about to go out the door, seeking for something to grab as a weapon and comes up with… a large cloth napkin.

Ers'lan has taken his lumps as well as given them. The two sparing are of equal skill, the fight based on mental tactics, when to wait, throw a punch, dodge, and counter. Lan has had Turns fighting, on the deck of ships, in tavern brawls, even practiced training with fellow riders. It really was a game of seconds. One good hit after reading an opponent's tactics would drop a guy to the ground.

So as the two men circle and throw punches, Darsce wincing with each one her father gives AND receives, seeing they are both ignoring her calls for them to quit it, the Ierneian hovers at the edge waiting her chance. When Ers'lan's back is to her, she jumps, landing on his back and snags that cloth napkin over his face, clinging to his back like… well, like a child on a pigg-a-back ride from hell. And she's not letting go without a fight, so if her father is yelling? She's ignoring him! Her fingers are white where they grip that napkin behind the brownrider's head, legs locked about his middle. Yeah. Good luck getting her off.

Natali knows better than to jump into the thick of things. She had only offered food and drink to the younger woman as a way of forestalling the mad rush for the door and the brawlers, but well, that didn't go over well. Especially not with Darsce clutching a napkin. So what's there to do but go after her. Hovering, that's all Natali can do, she won't launch herself into the fray. She can only watch, adding her voice to the yelling, but like heck, she's going to risk getting punched or something. Her weyrmate would be mad if she came home sporting a black eye or worse.

One good hit in the right place would end it. Unfortunately it doesn't get to that point as Ers’lan's pounced from the back, his focus had been solely upon D'had that he was slow to react to the additional weight on his back. More importantly, his hands were going up to the cloth that was abruptly masking his sight, pitching forward as fingers attempt to claw underneath the fabric, growling: "Whar the faranth's f*** …!!" and he starts to stagger, spinning around a bit in attempts to get her dislodged. Up above, Zhaoth misses his opportunity and fails to catch. "Git off me!" he bellows, one hand going back behind him in attempts to claw at her, hook a hand somewhere that he can leverage her off.

In the meantime, a pair of guards on patrol have happened by the tavern… looking at one another before they charge for the scene, "BREAK IT UP! BREAK IT UP!" D'had gets a threatened point of a club, as they approach Lan and Darsce, witnessing the former-sailor's disregard of the woman on him as he shifts his weight so abruptly that she flies over the top of his shoulder…

Darsce goes tumbling and likely D’had is right there yelling at her for jumping into the fray and probably trying to haul her off so he can continue the fight. Hopefully she doesn’t hurt his bad hand if she’s caught by him!

That's when the guards muster up and charge at Ers’lan like a battering ram, to keep him from harming Darsce or anyone else. He barely has time to get over the fact that Darsce hadn't played fair before gets taken to the ground hard. They have to. He's a big guy, he could strong arm the lot of them, surprise was the key to their success. It ends up that he wrestles with them on the ground, getting in a few more battering punches before he's subdued. And not quietly. He's cussing worse than a drunken sailor while they escort him to a confinement cell.

A higher rank (guard or rider) will arrive once the brownrider is taken away, perhaps even a harper too.. to get to the bottom of what happened and to see that everyone goes home without further incident.

D'had is nothing but smugly pleased with Ers’lan being dragged off to that holding cell, don'tcha know!

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