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.
The tavern. There's almost always someone there. Whether its simply the bartender, or there's one, or many, patrons. Today, the place is relatively empty. A few people have come and gone, a small group sits at a corner table chatting, a few others line the bar. One such is the weyrsecond. The bluerider slumped on a stool at the end of the bar, leaning against the wall as he stare at the half empty drink in front of him. Ice half melted, fingertips rest on the top of the glass ready to slide down in order to pick it up at any moment.
It's a rather disgruntled-looking Cenlia that enters the tavern, flits in tow. She still hasn't run into R'owan to take her to Ista, and is still carrying around that beat-up old flight jacket with the patch in the back. And a Xanadu weyrsecond's knot stuck to the shoulder. The girl heads straight for the bar, flopping down and grumbling a, "Need booze," at nobody in particular. But her voice does catch the 'tender's attention, the girl promply clarifying, "Bottle of ale." And ale she gates, along with a mug to pour it in. It's only then she notices D'had over there, the girl nodding her head in passable politeness with a, "Hi, sir." Yes, he gets a 'sir'. After the recent encounters with the weyrwoman, she's not taking any chances.
D'had is slow on the reaction time. Cenlia's entrance is noted, even the fact that she's taken a seat at the bar not so very far from him. Even so it takes a moment to register her greeting. "Hey sweets," he replies, tossing the words back with a smirk of a smile, half-hearted as it is, for the gardener. "Little early ta be drinkin," he comments then. Look who's talking, but then he's talking about her.
Cenlia wrinkles her nose at being called sweets, but she's busy pouring ale and then gulping down a mugful before she replies, "Ain't early for South Boll." Whatever that means. She does peer over at D'had's own drink a moment, and then shrugs with a grumbled, "'Sides, if 'm drunk, mebbe I don't gotta see Thea again till tomorrow." She makes a face, pouring more ale.
D'had nods slowly, dark eyes falling back to the glass beneath his hand. "Trouble?" he asks, though it may well seem more like an purposeful attempt at being sociable than an actual desire to know the answer. Hand lifts glass to lips and he chokes down the contents, leaving only remaining ice and sliding it towards the back side of the bar for it to be refilled, an act which the 'tender sees too soon enough.
Cenlia snorts, grumbling into her mug, "She tried t' send me /home/." And then, perhaps realizing the rank of the person she's talking to, and adds on quickly, "Weren't my fault." The girl eyes her mug a moment, frowning, and then downs more ale. "An' it weren't tresspassin' t' be in the chicken coop neither," the girl adds in a mumble; Cenlia's assuming D'had knows all about the letter and the jacket, since it was recently pointed out to her that he and Thea share an office. That, and the second mugful of ale is probably helping addle her brain a little.
See there's her mistake. Sharing and office means nothing if you avoid said office like the plague. "Wait, who did what ta who's cat?" D'had asks, a slight slur to the words. In other words, please explain with small words that are easily understandable to drunken ears and fuzzy minds. Once his own glass is filled he lifts it again to take a drink, draining about half in one long sip. No ale for him, no he's on hard liquor.
The gardener girl relaxes quite a bit when she realizes the weyrsecond is well on his way to being sozzled. What he's drinking gets an appreciative look. Cenlia shrugs, grumbling a, "'S not important. Weyrwoman Niva said so." Niva said so, so there, Cen can forget about it now. Except she's still sulking at her ale, and downing a third mug now. There's a groan, however, as Cenlia adds, "Told me to take her klah an' cupcakes." A grimace, the girl pouring a fourth mug, though she's not drinking to lose her wits completely. Last time that happened, she ended up waking up next to a bronzer. The girl takes a look around, just to make sure there are no bronzers present, and then frowning a bit at that jacket she's still holding.
This time she might end up with a bluerider? D'had snorts, "Cupcakes huh?" something about that comment apparently amusing and completely ridiculous sounding to him all at the same time. "Well cupcake, how about you move down this way and we can drink and forget together." To form the words as question doesn't exactly happen, though while its said more as statement it could easily be construed as a request. "Even buy ya the next round."
Cenlia peers at D'had, wrinkling her nose. "Plate of sweetrolls an' a four Flamin' Ovines," she says, without blinking. The dozen or so bottles of booze and other things required to make Flamin' Ovines - the drink, that is - certainly aren't cheap. She doesn't move from her seat, but apparently that ale she's been drinking has mellowed her enough to forget her manners momentarily, or perhaps altogether, the gardener girl asking with a raised eyebrow and more than a little curiosity, "What've /you/ got to forget?"
"Got plenty ain't wanna remember," D'had replies, watching as those drinks are mixed with far more focus than it should truly take and that attempt doesn't last long perhaps for that same reason. He takes a swig of what remains from the refill of his glass. He might well have moved to her since she didn't, but while the though crosses his mind and he even shifts to begin the movement of standing, something else wins out and he simply leans back against the wall once again.
There's a snort as Cenlia hears his answer, downing her drink and shrugging, "Like what?" There's another look over at D'had, the girl saying, "Might wanna sit down." And there's a lopsided grin, the girl saying almost cheekily, "Guess weyrseconds really can't hold their booze," referring to him leaning against the wall. But the girl is frowning again, peering at that jacket, and finally deciding something, she begind fiddling with the weyrsecond knot attached to its shoulder. The knot is dirty and faded, but Cen nevertheless gets it unpinned and slides it over toward D'had, muttering, "Figure Thea forgot t' take this off. Shards, bet X'hil's glad he ain't got it no more, just 'cause of her shardin' crossbow." Despite how horribly unfair that statement might be, Cenlia doesn't seem to care at the moment, probably wanting to blame somebody.
"Ain't said I wanna talk about it," D'had replies sharply to the question. "And I can hold it just fine," he adds gruffly, evidently no amused by the commentary. "'ll take care of it," he notes a moment later, once that knot is unpinned and handed over. It get awkwardly stuck in a pocket and he moves to take another drink, which empties the glass once again.
Cenlia shrugs, though she does look doubtful about D'had claiming he can hold his booze, the girl giving another snort and downing another drink. She does nod when he takes the knot, looking just the slightest bit relieved and then, having run out of things to pester the man about, starts pouring herself some more.
D'had still has a loose hold on the glass in hand as the bartender fills it for the um'teenth time. Is anyone counting? Did anyone bother to start. "Still early," he reminds Cenlia after that drink of her's, but then he's not listening to himself and taking a swig of his own. He's seated at the end of the bar, turned slightly sideways so he can both see more of the tavern as a whole, and use the wall to lean against. The gardener is a few spaces down. Its not so early in the evening that its unusual to see people in the space, but still early enough to leave it reasonably open and certainly early enough that most all have not turned to drink so much as one particular patron has.
It is a more somber Thea than in recent days that steps into the Tavern this evening. Straight from the office and still dressed in a sweeping mid-calf skirt and blouse of midnight blue, her hair up and coiled around her head in a coronet to keep it out of the way. Under her arm, a ledger gives clue to her presence here; to catch a quiet dinner and work while avoiding the busy cavern crowd. She pauses just inside the door, right in front of it, to be exact, to allow her eyes time to adjust to the dimness.
Cenlia pours herself more booze, rolling her eyes and grumbling, "Shards, if this's early for you t' be drinkin', ya must not drink much." The girl glares sulkily at her mug, grumbling, "/X'hil/ never had no problem drinkin', anytime." Then there's a pause, the girl frowning at the booze in her hand, mumbling, "Till he got all stuffy." Gump grumble grouch. Seems someone's in a bad mood and willing to share it, or perhaps D'had is just wearing the wrong knot today. Cenlia has not noticed Thea's entrance yet, the girl gulping down some more booze.
D'had shrugs, unaffected by the tartness of Cenlia's words, or at very least shoving them aside in his drunken state. "Ain't gotta problem," he replies, cutting out a few unnecessary words from the sentence. "Just 'mindin' ya. Drink up." On that he will take his own advice. Its somewhere between glass going up and glass coming down while dark eyes send a glance across the room rather than focusing on Cenlia that he happens to spot the new arrival and the glass, when it's set down empty, is set down harder than certainly needed.
Those voices draw Thea's eyes, both known to her. There's a small sigh as she observes what Cenlia is guzzling, no surprise though. Her eyes lift towards D'had, meeting his eyes with a clear gaze. His glass slamming down on that countertop has her wincing. Still, she's here and has learned not to run. She steps across the room, nodding to Cenlia as she passes, giving the gardener an assessing look and a slight smile. Since the table next to where D'had is empty, she heads that way, flickering him a wary look. "Evening." Said to both as she slides into a seat.
"Sure," Cenlia says, in reply to both things D'had says, lifting her own mug to swallow more booze, and then setting it down much less forcefully, the girl glancing over at the bluerider again with a slight frown. It's unfortunate that Cenlia's first sight of Thea is out of the corner of her eye, the girl making an entirely unecessary 'yawp' sound as the goldrider goes by, and then promptly attempting to flee. But Cen's not exactly sober right now, and though not quite witless, she does panic a little and ends up simultaneously tipping her bar stool over as she rises and then tripping over the thing in an effort to make a hasty exit. Crash goes the gardener, her firelizards chittering worriedly from the rafters.
"Al'ight sweets?" D'had asks sliding from his stool when Cenlia has taken out her own. He's avoiding both conversation and further eye contact with the newest arrival to the tavern. His own drunken state doesn't exactly help him at all in his attempt to assist the gardener from the floor, but he does extend a had to do just that all the same.
Thea just takes in the train wreck with an almost bored look. So totally what she expected, says the expression on her face. "Y'all right over there?" The 'maid stops beside Thea for a moment, there is a brief request before the woman leaves for the back and Thea can see that Cenlia is indeed unbroken and being helped up. With a small shake of her head, she flips open that ledger and looses herself in it. Not ignoring the Weyrsecond, but obviously not going out of her way to provoke him either. Nope, she's behaving.
Cenlia lies on her back for a moment, blinking up at the ceiling with that bleary look common to most toppled-over drunks everywhere - one that says 'what just happened?' with as much confused frowning as she can muster. "M' fine," the gardener girl grumbles at D'had as he comes into focus, reaching for the offered hand anyway. Cenlia, too, avoids looking Thea's way, the girl muttering an vaguely embarrassed, "Shardin' chair," as she gets up. So much for holding one's booze, if she can't even win a battle with a bar stool.
D'had chuckles, pulling once the girl grabs his hand in effort to help her to her feet. He's not exactly what one might call steady in the process however. "Good ta hear," he comments of her being fine. "Chairs 'er good at fightin," he adds nodding towards the offender.
Thea glances towards the bar, eyes pained but only when no one looks her way. Eyes drop to her ledger as the gardener is righted. Her pen scratches on paper, lips moving silently. Someone's working at concentrating. Her carefully neutral expression may give nothing of her inner thoughts away, but the tension in her shoulders surely might. If nothing else, the sudden arrival of Ruin from *Between* certainly does; he never hangs with the junior when she's happy. The bronze takes up a position on the back of her chair, an indication of her level of stress. The higher it is, the closer he'll be to her. He's watching the pair, eyes a-whirl with pleasure.
It's unsteadily, but Cenlia makes it to her feet, snorting and reaching down to right the toppled bar stool. She then flops down in it again, muttering, "Shards I need a drink," still avoiding looking in the goldrider's direction, though the girl does hunker down as if she'd like to disappear now. How handy that there's a drink right there, and grabs it, downing the rest of the thing in one long gulp, and then thunking it down with a belch.
Yes, because when one falls over their own bar stool the most ideal thing to do next is not to stop drinking but to drink more! Sounds good to D'had apparently as he leans to reach for his own drink and pull it closer. There's a glance in Thea's direction at the appearance of the bronze. "Don't you got an office fer that?" her snipes her way before lifting his glass.
The 'maid returns from the back with a plate and a goblet of wine, heading towards the junior's table. Thea has seen her approach, and slides that ledger to one side as they are set down in front of her, hands her the marks to pay for it and lifts her fork. There's a soft snort at Cenlia's comment before her attention is drawn by the Weyrsecond's irate-sounding question. Cool eyes meet his for a moment, before she answers civilly enough, "Hm, yes. I was hungry." Was. Still, she's going to eat it. As she busies herself with it, Ruin lashes his tail and gives a purring croon of approval towards D'had.
Cenlia looks confused a moment, as she focuses on boozing again. An office? She has an office? It takes a moment for the gardener girl to realize that D'had is sniping at Thea, and the gardener girl's eyes flit that way briefly, catching sight of Ruin and grimacing. Still she turns back, to her booze. Her only addition to the 'conversation' is an amused snort. "More booze," Cenlia tells the 'tender, and as she gets another bottle of ale, the girl laments, "Ain't as good as tuber ale."
"Don't mean ya haveta ruin a good drink with work," D'had snorts, though likely its the woman more than the ledger she brought with her that has him irritated. That 'maid who brings her food however does earn second look, a cross between a leer and a smirk at that. Cenlia's request for more has him holding out his glass behind him, while still focused on the barmaid, to be refilled once again as long as she's got the 'tender's attention. "Hey there sugar."
"I'm behind. Niva wants these by this evening," Thea answers the Weyrsecond evenly after she has chewed and swallowed her first mouthful. There's a glance Cenlia's way with with a tiny head-shake before she lifts her glass, taking a sip of her wine eyeing D'had over the rim of the glass with eyes flat and void of anything this evening. Her glass is set down carefully, another bite, then back to the ledger, ignoring his attempts to lure the 'maid. Ruin chitters, eyes intent on the man at the bar, taking a few slinking steps from the back of Thea's chair onto her shoulder.
Cenlia eyes the bottle she's just gotten, nods at it with a grumbled, "It'll do," and then slides off the stool, managing not to tip it or herself this time. Hugging her booze and that jacket - now without the weyrsecond knot - the girl wobbles off to the exit with a vague wave to D'had. Thea isn't given a second glance. Someone's not getting cupcakes anytime soon, apparently.
D'had isn't one to give in, but the mayhaps he's had just enough booze up to this point to find the mentality to take his freshly refilled glass of alcohol with a few cubes of ice and move those few not so steady paces to Thea's table. The free hand rests on the back of her chair, the opposite side of which Ruin perches.
Thea writes in that ledger with a carefully steady hand between bites. As the Weyrseconds makes his unsteady way over towards her, she is aware of him, of course, but gives no indication. His hand on her chair, however stops her fork halfway to her mouth. She lifts her head, a polite look at him, "Yes?" Ruin slithers across Thea's shoulder towards that nearby hand with a smug chirr of welcome. His head nears those fingers, and in what may be the only affectionate gesture the firelizard has ever made, he rubs his head against the tips of them with a voluptuous croon of approval. My precious.
D'had chuckles at the 'lizard's reaction to his presence. In fact that chuckle might well be in part to the weyrwoman. "Just making sure yer doin' it right," he comments. Or just plain being nosy and irritating given that in his current state of he likely can't make heads nor tails of the writing in that ledger without staring til he goes cross-eyed.
"Oh." Thea's fork slides into her mouth, she's chewing and ignoring Ruin. Swallowing, "I'm all right." Liar. She slants a look up at him, "You seemed a little… annoyed this evening. How 'bout you? You all right?" She lifts her pen, it hovers over that ledger, but she makes no attempt to write. Ruin is almost humming with glee."
"Didn't ask how ya were," D'had remarks, brushing off her reply with little regard for what she has to say. Rather he'll distract himself with his drink. That makes what? Three.. no, five? since Cenlia came in. He never actually started counting and surely he would have lost track by now anyway. "I .. am drunk," he admits seemingly perfectly happy to admit to it if still perturbed with her presence interrupting his brooding and drunken stupor.
Thea ignores the reply, pushes her plate away unfinished, lifts a napkin to wipe her mouth. Another cool glance at the Weyrsecond, "Yes, I know." Dryly said, the words are. As Ruin gloats with a chuckle of his own, the junior shuts the ledger, tucks it under one arm and rises, coming eye to eye with the man with nothing other than courtesy in hers. "I'll leave ya to it, then." A gentle leave-taking in her tone, she inclines her head and steps away.
"Good," is the reply she gets for both comments as he turns up his glass to drain what's left. A step is taken backwards to give her room, though that step turns into two or three by the time he's done. Not to self, don't walk backwards while drinking booze.
Thea is one step past the Weyrsecond as he takes those seemingly unplanned steps backwards and it is only a quick sidestep or two before she hooks an arm through one of his, grasping the forearm to help steady him. Her face maintains that impartial neutrality even while giving him a keen glance. "You mind walking with me for awhile, D'had?" Her tone is one of casual entreaty, while behind her back her fingers signal to the 'tender, who no doubt is keeping a careful eye on his patrons.
D'had peers down at her as if trying to determine her intentions for asking such a question. In the end on last draw at the liquid that remains in his glass, which now is primarily ice melt, and he leaves it on the closest table. "Awhile," he agrees, though how long that while is remains to be seen.
Thea's hand releases the Weyrsecond's forearm as he seems to have his balance back, but she keeps her arm linked loosely with his as they move to the door. The 'maid slips up behind Thea and places something into her hand, which the junior slips into her skirt pocket. "I appreciate it, D'had," she says easily, as if he's doing her a special favor. Ruin, for some reason is looking not quite as pleased as he had been and lifts off her shoulder to lurk after them from the air.
D'had peers at that something handed from 'maid to weyrwoman. Or is it that he's leering at one, the other, or even perhaps both. Hard to say for sure. As they head for the door, there is that drunken stumble to his step, but surprisingly his balance is so very far off as it might seem it should be.
Thea thankfully doesn't have to get the door; the 'maid does that for them holding it open for them to step through. She's carefully watching just where the Weyrsecond puts his feet as they step over the threshold, watching for any sway that might mean he's about to topple. Once outside, she turns towards the coastal road. "Heard you had a long day." She doesn't say from who. Could be from a blue tattling to a gold.
Could well be that. The 'maid gets on final smirk before she's out of sight and out of mind as Thea directs their path towards the cross roads. "You know, sweeps, office work," Though he never did show up in the office…. "Littla this littla that," he explains without actually given any specifics on what his day entailed.
And Thea doesn't ask for details, either, nor does she correct him about the office work - she was there. She watches him from the corner of her eyes, carefully noting his balance. Her arm linked in his will not do much to help him should he lose his. "I see," she replies quietly. "Too busy to come for meals all day, too?"
Siebith senses that Seryth announces her presence with the soft fog that shrouds skeletal trees before spring,« She comes with yours. » There is the distinct sense of heaviness, a pressing weight of resignation,« Mine is not happy. »
Seryth senses that Siebith's consciousness rises with the bubbles of sleeping spring that hides in river currents. « Mine is not happy either. He is » The pictures that follow are of nothing special, simply the way the pair of their riders walk though things are far from clear, shifting independently of each other, hard to focus on any given thing.
Siebith senses that Seryth stirs the branches with a mental snort at the picture he sends, « That is… strangly muddled. » Her mindvoice fades as slowly as tendrils of fog will when stirred by nothing at all.
D'had shrugs. There's a sway to his steps, but as long as he doesn't trip he should be okay. "Grabbed somethin' on the way out," he explains, "Was over Ressac later, stopped in there abouts." And dinner apparently consisted of alcoholic beverage and nothing more.
Thea nods to this, "Good." Yes, she's noticed he's not mentioned dinner, but says nothing. She's relaxing just a bit as his walking seems at least good enough not to wind up with him in a heap on top of her or smacked into a tree. She falls silent then for a time then finally, "Have a good swim last night?" Grasping for straws here.
D'had nods, head bobbing a few times more than necessary. "Was good," he agrees, "Went out to that island for awhile," or all night as the mental snort Siebith sends Seryth seems to note. "Nice there. Quiet. You woulda liked it." Scattered thoughts. Forget the fact that both of them would likely be happier if the other wasn't there.
Thea hmms at this, "I'm glad you enjoyed your swim, but what island?" Someone hasn't done much (any) exploring since arriving in Xanadu, apparently. "Quiet? I would have." She peers ahead, measuring the distance to- well, her destination. No, not being there would not help make this junior any happier.
"A few of 'em out there," D'had explains, "Not really swimming distance," At least not for a human swimmer, "Sie came out though. You're pretty." Not it doesn't exactly have anything to do with anything but it is the comment that rolls of his tongue.
Thea nods to this, her feet taking careful steps in the dark on the uneven surface of the road. "Hmm, I'll bet he enjoyed the water. It was calm last night." His last comment has her sliding him a sideways glance and biting her lips together for a moment. Her answer to that, when she can keep from laughing is a gracious, "Thanks, so are you." See if he remembers that comment tomorrow!
"We're both pretty we should be pretty together," D'had grins. Yes, very drunk. A step pulls him to the side away from Thea as he tries to focus on her rather than the road. He'll most definitely be regretting this evening come morning.
Humor the man is likely what Thea's thinking as more alcohol makes it from his stomach to his brain. "I'm sure we already are," is the dry answer. His step to the side has her dropping his arm and looping hers around his waist instead, "Careful." She pauses her steps, "Might want to stay -on- the road?"
D'had seems almost upset when she drops his arm, but he's more than pleased with the result as he wraps an arm around her shoulders as she does his waist. "Roads an me ain't never got along. Ocean don't have roads. Sky don't have roads." If that's supposed to be a reason for not walking on this one it doesn't seem to make it that far and he's not objecting if she's leading him back to it.
Thea steps back to the road. Isn't she lucky he's cooperative and not surly? But then likely he'd have been left to find his one way home. "Roads would mess them up, yes." She's agreeing with him there. "They're not so bad when they're far away from holds. I've spent a lot of time on them." A careful look towards him to see if he's okay with a silent plea, Please don't pass out. This junior can't carry you.
D'had hasn't passed out yet! Hopefully he'll make it the rest of the way. Hopefully. He swaggers as he walks, exaggeratedly so, and yet his while his balance seems like it must certainly be off beyond measure he somehow manages to maintain it. "Ain't never on 'em," the roads one must assume. "They go where they want to."
Thea makes no comment further about roads and the fact that his 'never been on one' is said while walking on one. Her lips twitch, but she manages to keep herself in check as they draw up to his weyr and she is shouldering the door open wide enough to let them pass.
Siebith's Weyrbarn
The space over all is well lacking in decor. There's the standard kitchenette, table and chairs, couch and that sharding other table and well.. that's about it other than the ladder like stairs that lead to a curtained off loft over the human sized living portion. There is however, a feminine touch found in a vase of flowers on the table.
D'had's weyr is just as empty as the last time she was there when they were nearly drown in that storm. Siebith has taken advantage of the weather to rest outside and so even his portion of the space is vacant as they enter. "Suppose you gonna say ya never been on a boat now, huh?"
Thea pulls the door shut behind them with her free hand, for the moment not responding to the question. It's dark, she might remember the way to go, so steers D'had towards the couch. "I think you should avoid that ladder for tonight, hmm?" Not like she can stop him if he really wants to climb it, but. As they cross the room, "I've been on a boat, yes." Her voice retains that patient quality when telling someone something they already know and may ask again.
D'had's expression flickers with confusion. "Ladder?" 'What ladder? There's no ladder,' the word seems to imply just in time for his shin to kick the low table in front of the couch. "Damn sharding.." mutter mutter.
"Oh, sorry, sorry. I forgot that was there." Thea is truly apologetic. "You alright?" Her turn to keep asking him that tonight, it seems. No point in answering about the ladder. She backs them up a step, moving around it turning to pat the couch with one hand, to make sure there's nothing on it before turning so he can flop there. "There ya go. Your couch." She withdraws her arm from his waist, stands there waiting for him to remove his arm from her shoulder.
D'had mutters some more, "Not the first time," he says of the table. "Should just throw the thing out." Yes, he's kicked it that many times. When presented with the couch, flop he does, though he seems intent on taking her with him if at all possible. He drops to a seat, keeping that arm around her shoulders in attempt to drag her down with him, of course it really wouldn't be all that hard to duck out of either.
He remembers the table, but not that he saved her from drowning on a boat. Sad, what alcohol will do to a brain. That movement isn't perhaps so unexpected as sudden and Thea does indeed go down with him, landing rather ungracefully beside him with a squeak. She turns her head asking him, "You alright?" waiting for his answer before moving.
That isn't the sort of boat he was thinking, so no. He chuckles for that squeak, grinning which of course she can't see in the dark, and pulling her close if she'll let him. He remembers the table, but not the ladder too? "Alright," he agrees.
Thea doesn't resist being pulled closer, but she's talking as he does it, "D'had. Hey listen, I need to go so you can sleep this off. You had a lot tonight and tomorrow you're-" She peeks at him to make sure he's catching what she's saying. He's been so touchy lately… she's trying so hard not to wind up with him angry tomorrow. As if she has a choice about that, seems like no matter what she does he's angry with her. "D'had?"
And in the space of those few seconds of hesitation the weyrsecond has smooth passed out. At least he waited until she had him home and sitting?
Okay, the passing out has Thea both relieved and concerned. She leans to make sure he is indeed breathing before rising to kneel and remove his boots, lugging his feet up and dragging the rest of him so he's lying down, flipping that blanket he keeps on the couch over him, muttering all the while. For a moment she stands there, thinking. Then she's carefully moving across the room to that kitchenette, feeling about for a glow and once finding, opens it a crack while she finds the few items she thinks appropriate. The glow she leaves open - just in case he awakes. Back beside his couch she places on the table a small cloth, and a glass of water, before removing from her pocket what the 'maid gave her. A small bottle thunks the tabletop beside the water. And last - a special touch: A plastic bin is placed on the floor beside the couch. Someone is going to have a lovely morning. As she slips away she mutters, "Fools drinking too shardin' much…" Muttermutter