Goldrider Sammich (Pasito a Pasito)

Half Moon Bay Weyr - Tiki Lounge
As one walks onto the wood panelled flooring of the patio, they are greeted with the scent of burning oil, the likely source the various torches burning along the perimeter of the flooring. The flooring is littered with tables shaded with umbrellas, matching chairs tucked beneath when not in use.
The inside of the Tiki Lounge seems far bigger inside than outside, even when full of relaxing weyrfolk and travelers. Towards the front, in the western corner, is a small stage, generally occupied by harpers. Several tables with chairs decorate the floor and a small area is open for dancing. The bar is rather long and well stocked, glasses of different shapes and sizes hanging suspended from a rack above the bar. Behind the bar is another open window that gives one a view of the forest behind the tavern. Turning around, one is greeted by a lovely view of the lagoon. A decent breeze helps to cool the room. Up above, rafters provide a perch for fire lizards and local avians. The thatch roof, made of straw, rarely lets in any rain.

Where to pent up and frustrated Wingleaders go when weyrlings are completely off limits? Why they go and get themselves blitzed of course! While baby dragons are all tucked away safe in their couches and their lifemates dreaming of days off without daily physical training, J'en is drowning himself in a nice big bottle of some really good stuff he'd gone and purchased outright. What else was he going to be spending all his marks on? He already had everything he needed, and what he didn't most of it was provided to him by the weyr. He'd built himself up a nice little nest egg and now he was blowing a portion of it on decent booze with which to forget about things for a night. So there is, jacket on the back of his chair, sitting all by himself in back of the Tiki Lounge. He had a nice rosy glow to his cheeks already, unsteadily pouring himself another couple of fingers into the single glass set before him, completely ignoring any other patrons that might be milling about this late at night.

It's been a long day, and long days lead to even longer nights; Risali has been in Half Moon Bay for some time now, having roused the harpers into exhibiting their showmanship with music that's upbeat, lively, inspiring the movement of bodies with the sensual sway of hips that's fast paced and requires an undulating of the entire body - and there is Risali, amid bodies that are too drunk to care or having too much fun to stop, swinging her hips with her arms up in the air. Her hair is down, she's given up her long-sleeved tunic in favor of a form fitting top better suited to Half Moon's sultry weather (despite the drop in temp because winter and storm), and that distant sound of music and voices singing is not Leirith for once. It's Risali, Risali with those aforementioned harpers still playing instruments, that join her voice as they push open the doors of the Tiki Lounge and move inside to occupy even more space with their boisterous presence - wet, because the storm has opened up clouds overhead even if none of the warm bodies moving in time with a pulse-pounding beat seem to care enough to notice. Risali's… also not sober, clumsy with her footing despite the fact that she maintains a grace in poise and sensual lines, as she laughs and leans into those who would dance with her and weaves her way through them. Sweeping grey eyes spot Jae as the harpers move towards their usual areas of performance, and Risali doesn't care if he sees her or not. She's moving without losing her rhythm, destroying the distance between them with dance until she's there in his space, reaching down to close dainty fingers around the wrist of one of his hands. "Dance with me," she breathes, and she doesn't smell sober - a fact that doesn't stop her from reaching to take J'en's newly poured glass and down it in one shot. She sets it back on the table with a wince of expression, and then she's catching one of his hands with hers as she tries to pull him to his feet, moving the entire time to that beat.

There was music and dancing this whole time and yet J'en hadn't noticed when this had become a thing, apparently content to ignore all the jovial joyness of dancers and music alike. He was paying no attention at all to the people having themselves a grand old time while he was basking in all of his misery. He was about to down his drink you see, when Risali appears seemingly out of nowhere and takes it right out of his hand, making it disappear down her own throat rather than his. Having hung up his expressionless about a quarter of that bottle ago, he openly scowls at the goldrider and snatches the empty glass back in an attempt to huddle it away. Lucky for her, he had his mind on parts that she did not possess, otherwise the way she was moving and dressed might have inspired the kind of dancing that required a mattress and waking up with all the regrets the next morning. But, she was catching his hand, and trying to pull him away from his self imposed solitary confinement of his tiny empty booth and bottled best friend. "I think ya got meh confused with one of the other two bronzeriders yer fuckin'." he growls dangerously low, his mood having not improved as he had hope, despite his slightly slurred words. He frees his hand from its prison with a twist of his wrist, sinking back into his seat and looking more like a coiled serpent ready to strike than a bronzerider more than half in the bag. Already he was wrapping fingers around the long neck of the glass bottle containing the remains of sevenday's pay, fully intent on not dancing and saturating his liver in alcohol.

Scowling, rejection in the form of scathing words, ill tempers - these are all things that Risali is accustomed to having directed at her, and she is undaunted and undeterred by Jae's glass grabbing, by his growlingly slurred words as he affects the pose of an animal on the defensive. Risali is a predator; she is top of the food chain, on the offensive, unafraid as she pulls herself up onto that table, positioning herself with her fingers curled around the neck of that bottle as well. The goldrider leans in, chest laboring in the momentary reprieve of movement as wet hair tumbles forward with a grace of its own and creates a curtain of sorts for them both. "You'll feel better," she tells him, grey eyes going to his liquid numbness before jumping back to amber. "More than this will make you feel. Come on, Jae. Get up." And she's letting go of his bottle, slipping back down from the table with her hips moving again, feet back on the ground as she turns away from him even if he doesn't follow because she is not sober either, and she wants to enjoy herself, and the music tells her move - so she moves. She moves with hands pressing down her own sides as her entire body undulates in time with a rhythm that's ageless and an honest-to-Faranth siren call for those like Risali, whose blood is music and motion and dance.

As undaunted and undeterred by J'en as Risali is, he seems as equally unimpressed by her predatory top of the food chain offense, as well as the way she pulls herself up onto the table to grab his hard earned bottle with her fingers over his and puts all that heaving woman chest practically right in his face. Golden eyes drop down, lingering on what he can see and probably can peice together what he can't from there, before dark lashes flutter closed and he just takes a minute to cut through the thick haze of his booze dulled mind. OH FUCK NO was he going to let this siren of a harpy lure him into things they'll both regret because he knew himself and his state of mind at this point in his life to come to the realization that this was going to head a very bad direction if he allowed her to convince him to get out of seat. This is why when J'en looks to Risali again, he looks even more pissed and determined to disobey her every command. At least, while she was probably just as inebriated as he was. The second that her hand is off that bottle he drags it about as far away as he can without it being in his lap or something, "Fuck no." he hisses, scooting his chair in towards the table an making that lap completely unavailable for those hypnotic hips doing things that he didn't want to even consider they were capable of. In fact, he was even going so far as to rouse Leketh from his slumber and have him relay a message to Garouth, because there was no way he was going to have her keep coming at him like she has been. There was only so much restraint in the world and he liked his face not resembling ground wherry meat.

Risali? Well, she's completely unaware of the havoc the movement of her hips is causing poor I-Just-Wanna-Be-Drunk J'en in the seclusion of his booth, and for a moment she dances in blessed oblivion, allowing the music to be her companion, guiding her movements as she undulates and rolls her hips. But the music can only hold her captive wholly for so long, because she is dancing alone, and there should be a body pressed against hers because feeling music together is better than feeling it alone. So while her back is to J'en now, it's suddenly not when she does a slow spin with shaking hips and hands in the air that stays on beat. And even drunk, she's smiling in opposition of Jae's unnoticed until anger (which still does not deter her) as she stumbles a little closer and then wiggles her fingers at him with a laugh. "Come on, Jae! What are you afraid of? Having fun?" And there's another spin, where her hair extends past her body, and she stumbles again with a laugh when she stills, but then sways her way back over to Jae in a grab for one of his hands again.

In silence, the very most outward corner of Jae's left brow twitches minutely, doing his utmost best to ignore all of the everything that was undulating far too close to him for his own personal comfort. Hand tightening on the long neck of the bottle of expensive potent liquor, golden eyes narrowed to dangerously pointed daggers tossed at the entry of the Tiki Lounge, he almost groans in relief when Leketh passes back the answer he was hoping for. D'lei was coming and this meant putting an end to all this torture as well as hopefully giving Risali the distraction she needed to leave him the fuck alone to all his brooding. Risali was still dancing of course, J'en trying to pretend she wasn't, even when she's reaching into his personal space and trying to grab his hand and pull him from his chair. So focused is he on trying to will D'lei to walk through that door, that when her fingertips touch his skin his irritation rises enough to spill over in that moment as his gaze snaps to her immediately, "Risali, I ain't seen S'van in almost a fuckin' turn, ya convince meh to give 'im a fuckin' chance, and now all I can think about is fuckin' him." he snaps as he yanks his hand back and out of her reach, "Gimme a fuckin' break with the hips and tits, okay and FUCK OFF."

The lure of music and drinks, alone or together! And D'lei… well, he didn't exactly come because of either of them, directly. Though, indirectly… well, he's kind of here because of both of them, and their combination. Or… something like that. The bronzerider from Monaco steps into the lounge with a slight frown on his face - mostly around his eyes that have that searching look. He is here on a mission! Of… something or other. There's the bar, but he doesn't go that way. There's… a variety of people dancing, but D'lei doesn't do more than glance at most of them. He and his riding leathers (sans jacket) will just keep looking until… aha, there's the target of his search. The spin, the sway, the smile that curves to replace the frown on D'lei's face as Risali slips away, back to the booth and… J'en? D'lei's eyes flick there, to see just who it is whose dragon spoke to his… but never mind that. His attention shifts back to Risali as he steps out after her across the dancefloor, his body slung low in a prowled motion as he moves his feet to the beat - because sometimes stealth is just about matching (and being masked by) what's already there. One two and across, until he steps behind Risali and sweeps his hands down around her hips, curving there even as she seeks to tug J'en to his feet. D'lei's eyes continue past to see J'en even as he continues the motion of step into sway against Risali, to press behind her with a wordless stir of his breath to her hair even as J'en withdraws with quite a few words, which bring an arch of D'lei's brow, a slight tilt of his head in for a better look at.. well, the both of them, really. What has drawn him here, anyhow?

The music calls to Risali, demands a sacrifice of movement that she heeds because there is no reason to stop. There is music, there is beat, there is bass and drums singing in her blood and she doesn't want to stop. So she moves. She's doing away with unnecessary things like inhibition and thought because those hinder the provocative curve of the goldrider's spine, the shifting of muscle in her stomach, that primal back and forth of hips that emulates so much more than simple dance. J'en is saying words to her, but Risali can't hear them anymore, not when the dance becomes so much more intoxicating than Jae's expensive alcohol; not when a body she knows too well - even in her drunken state - presses in behind her and moves with her. Grey eyes close, Risali leans back into that body, turning her head into the stir of breath in her hair with a smile that's all at once feral and exuberant. How could J'en's rejection of her matter now? There is Dash; she can feel him, smell him, taste him on every frantic inhale that her lungs make in an effort to keep up with the demands of her body. Every movement the goldrider makes becomes more sultry, more titillating and focused as she reaches up behind her, presses fingers against D'lei's jaws, curves them into claws that drag with subtle pressure along the column of his neck through her hair, sliding down his shoulder to her own shoulder. And Risali doesn't stop as she drags both of her hands down her own body without ceasing movement until they're on the hands at her hips and pushing them up, dragging her tunic those few scant inches with them. She turns as she presses his hands up her body, letting go when her ribs are being exposed because she's facing D'lei now, pressing undulating hips in against his with a roll that's certainly more explicit than it has any right. Fingers press along the Monacoan's jaw, trailing nails back, back, along the curve at the base of his skull before applying pressure so that she can drag his mouth down to hers. And it's no chaste kiss; she continues to move as her head tilts into the press of lips, a breath shared between her lifting that chin just so to catch his top lip with teeth that drag as she pulls back, a flicker of tongue that is much invitation as it is apology. "Dash," she breathes on an exhale that holds so much emotion in one word. There's a coquettish curl of lips before she continues, without giving him space, leaning like she's going to kiss him again with a minute lung that ends before contact, bumping her nose to his instead. "Jae doesn't want to dance with me. Do you want to dance with me?"

Ah, yes. J'en. He was there, he was there and so was Risali with all her hips swinging and body moving to the beat of drums tucked away somewhere the Wingleader wasn't paying any attention to. Though, it would be safe to say that if he had a hit list, the harper responsible for that rhythm (that had to be illegal somewhere) would find six foot and some odd inches of 'NO' right in their face. Jae might have missed D'lei's entry, but it would be impossible to say as much for the way he appears behind Risali. The Monaco Bay bronzerider might be arching a brow at the words his female counterpart wasn't listening to, but J'en snorts in response dismissively waving a hand backwards towards the both of them now that Risali finally had given something appropriate to undulate against removing all danger of hung over regrets when morning came. At least, removing him from that equation. Purposefully, he does not watch either rider once it was established that D'lei had answered the summons, even if there had the briefest flicker of relief and gratitude across his face for him. Maybe he'd send him something nice as a thank you later on, pouring himself a large glass of from his precious bottle of forgetfulness and downing it amongst swaying hips and sensual movements far too close for his tastes. No, he was not going to watch all that. Nope. Nope. Nope. Not in his current state of mind and physical lack of everything that they were doing for last ridiculously long eight months. His jaw tightens along with that of his shoulders, his drunken ire now being directed at the exit which was not a step or two away no matter how much he wanted it to be. No. It was past two very attractive people practically making love to each other fully dressed a foot or perhaps from the very spot in which he was trapped in against that corner. A corner that has been his sanctuary of solitude not that long ago. Growling, coiling up tighter, golden eyes remain attached to the door that had thought had brought his rescue. Turns out, this was much, much worse. Eyes slide closed, teeth clenched, and a rumbling deep "Why is this mah fuckin' life?" hissed under his breath.

D'lei swings his hips in a counter-rhythm to Risali's that creates a grind - and then she turns, which means that their rhythm is matched, pressed close together as her hands slide along his jaws as he studies her, now; amber eyes intent as she curls her nails in and draws him down so that he can meet her lips with his parted ones, trail his hands down further just to make it clear that, nope not chaste… because somehow covering her with his hands makes the sensuality of her motions more apparent. Not that J'en is watching. Or at least, he's certainly trying not to. Willpower is sometimes a limited resource, especially if there's eight months of having to use it along the way! Still, D'lei - despite having been drawn here by that message - makes no immediate attempt to engage J'en, instead focused on the kiss with Risali that he does not slow the motion of his hips - or hands - to provide, because that would mean not following the beat. "Mmh," he answers his name - or maybe provides as another exhale - as their lips part, then… "Heh." He tilts his head further down, with a nip for her jaw where it curves in toward chin. "Not everyone hears the same music." He glances past, to take another look at J'en, who… glaring, check. Growling? Yep. Lamenting his lot in life? Oh yeah. There's a wry quirk of D'lei's lips, and he turns his gaze back to Risali with a sudden shift to grin. "Then let's dance." Because why not - they're here, there's music, and maybe it'll even give Jae his chance to run away when the two of them gyrate to the dance floor. Assuming he doesn't make a foolish mistake like looking at them as they grind and sway and swirl, that is. Which…. well. It's a risk, it is! One of the hazards of life.

This is J'en's life now because J'en made choices - like Risali made choices, like D'lei made choices, choices that landed all three of them here for varying reasons, but no less here. But J'en's second (or third, or fourth, or fifth) mistake was arguably reaching out to Dash hoping that the Monacoan would try to reign in Risali's mischief as opposed to partaking in it. D'lei is Risali's best friend, the one that jumps from cliffs with her at midnight and dances with her under light of moon; he's the one that always tells her, 'Yes,' even when the answer should sometimes be, 'No,' because he's as wild and as free as she is. He is partaking with her now, swinging his hips in tandem with Risali's every movement - a primal kind of rhythm that all bodies are born knowing, but that some anticipate better with every subtle shift of muscle that echoes each other without thought, transforming movement into dance. Slowly. Step by step. Risali arches into the press of hands, tilts her head back as he nips her chin and then laughs at his words as she holds to D'lei for contact, and balance, and - "The world is spinning, Dash!" But there's no implication of feeling unwell, just Leirith-bordering levels of wonder at the world, at her ability to stay on her feet when she's so very not sober and grey eyes find amber, find amber seeking other amber eyes and… it's a mistake. D'lei grins, Risali returns his smile with a feral flash of teeth and an answering, "And sing, Dash!" But she hasn't forgotten you Jae - not now, not yet, not even with D'lei serving as a distraction because this is Risali, who is still moving as she turns again, pressing her back into D'lei's chest once more as grey eyes seek Jae and… there's the half curl of her lips as she moves against Dash and crooks her fingers at Jae. "Jaelyn!" A roll of her hips, another laugh. "You'll have plenty of time to miss S'van. Dance! Dance, and you'll forget!" Temporarily, anyway. It works for her, why shouldn't it work for him? NEVERMIND HIM TELLING HER TO FUCK OFF EARLIER.

J'en emulates a certain Fortian brownrider when he becomes all of the nopes, forcing himself to pretend what is happening in his peripheral vision is just not happening despite it being quite possibly the worst of tortures ever to occur to him recently. He'd been good, he'd stayed away from not only his weyrling but all the weyrlings in general. A devout and driven Wingleader, who's riders probably hated his guts for the long hours and grueling workload meant to distract him just as much as it was to get them all up to snuff. Important, especially with a storm brewing and all the potential mayhem that that would undoubtedly bring. Mouths and bodies pressed together in time with a wicked sultry beat is exactly what J'en didn't need right now, it wasn't helping him forget anything. In fact, it was stirring up all of nearly a turns worth of repressed and shelved lust, certainly trying his patience and picking away at his crumbling resolve. The Half Moon Bay bronzerider swallows down his mouthful of burning liquor, taking a steadying breath before he dares opening his eyes again to once more find fault with the distance between himself and the exit. Ignore it as he might try, it does register that D'lei was sashaying Risali away from him with an angle towards the dance floor, allowing him to put palms to the table and unsteadily push himself to his feet. Somehow able to filter out Risali's drunken exclamation of how the world was spinning, determinedly set on using the path that his fellow bronzerider had opened up as a means of escape. Away from the swell of perfectly formed hips rocking against narrowly angular ones connected in part to handsomely chiseled jawlines. He needed to get the fuck out of here, and quickly before what was left of his willpower was blasted away by the far too arousing display D'lei and Risali offered for sex-starved eyes. J'en had made it three or four steps before he hears his pre-impression name followed by laughter and another siren song of promises that pull at all the reasoning he'd come here to get fall on his face blasted in the first place and he slides heavily lidded eyes towards goldrider and bronzerider. "Fuck…" he growls, seeing it all, taking it all in. Already he was sliding out of his flight jacket, leaving him only in those hip hugging and low cut leather pants and a form fitted tank top in only the deepest of crimson. The stripped clothing item is tossed into a seat of his booth and he stalks the pair with more heat than one should be allowed for one person to possess, pressing himself right up against the lithe and seductive form of the woman who'd beckoned to him with come hither fingers. Effortlessly he falls into rhythm with them, rocking his body in time with hers, while leveling a long penetrating look first at the top of the dark hair spilling from the top of Risali's head and then slowly lifting to match amber to gold.

So many choices. So many terrible (or is that wonderful?) choices. D'lei's smile is amused by Risali's lack of sobriety, by the spin of the world around her… because she's not upset, so neither is he. The world is a wild ride sometimes even without the assistance of alcohol, so what's a bit of assistance for the party? Not that he seems to need it, the music carrying enough of rhythm, enough of the stirring deep inside to make him follow it, to follow Risali and lead her at the same time, as one hip leads and the other follows, as they sway and grind to each other. To dance and… D'lei laughs, trailing his fingers up along Risali's sides, one hand curling out while the other one traces in along her chest, over heart, up to where collarbone shows over lungs. "You already are." Singing, with the air that moves quicker for her dancing; with her heart that beats to drive the blood through her body with its own rushing tune. And so they dance away. And they might have made it, too - or at least given J'en his own chance to get away - but then there's the look back, the capture of the Half Moon bronzerider with eyes and words. D'lei laughs as he sees J'en give in to the music, with a tilt of his head back as he gives the full-throated amusement to it, then returning his gaze to see Risali, to see J'en coming in behind her, catching her between them as they - all three - dance with gold between bronze, as eyes meet above the shortness of Risali and D'lei's hands slowly lift, following a pattern in the music to rise in a pair of arcs as his feet follow a different one, faster as his hips move in echo of that movement to grind and press and dance.

Risali laughs as she bends into the press of D'lei's hands, as she leans her head back, and arches her spine, and breaks out in goosebumps even if she's not sober because D'lei's fingers are on her body and that always makes her internal tempo a frantic beat. "But you're not." Risali contests as she grinds, and rolls, and sways, and undulates around a smile that remains after the laughter as escaped her lungs; long after she's started singing again despite accusing D'lei of not singing. And then J'en is there, J'en is heeding the beckoning of music through the motions it inspires in Risali's body - the crook of those fingers, the sway of those hips - in tandem with her and D'lei. And Risali laughs, unaware of eyes meeting over her head as she tilts her head back just enough to bump the back of her head against Jae's chest while she laughs - carefree, jubilant, free except for the way music, and rhythm, and the press of two bodies against her that keep her captivate and demand more motion. So she presses into Dash, presses back against J'en, rocks between the two men sans reservation because she is here to have fun, to enjoy herself, to feel the music, and become the beat that moves all of their feet in that maddeningly quick pace that still somehow manages to be heady, and heavy, and sultry. She grinds, and dips, and is jarred by the bodies keeping hers between them and then - "It's too hot, Dash! It's too hot, Jae!" And there's more laughter, more movement as Risali is suddenly tugging at her tunic and tossing it aside because… well she's drunk, and she's hot, and at least she has a bra on for once? It could be worse, not that her hair doesn't fall over her breasts to cover them with its length and thickness, but HEY. And now she's… trying to take of D'lei's shirt? Nobody panic. "Too hot!"

There is a deep rumbling sound of appreciation from J'en with the press of Risali against him, hardly innocent in the way his hands find her hips even as she pulls her shirt up over her head and tosses it where it might trip up anyone else that may be enjoying the deep pounding rhythm of drum beats. Fortunately or unfortunately as the case may be, the music was close and loud enough to hammer out any thoughts that might have occurred to Jae to think, leaving his head blank except for the unconscious following of movement against the goldrider sandwiched between himself and D'lei. He'd dropped his gaze with a lowering of lashes, his expression unreadable without the guidance of his gaze saturated with unanswered need. A need that he drunkenly attempts to placate with purposely placed feet and the way he grinds himself up against the woman before him, with only the music and the bodies mashed up against one another to distract him. No mind is given to newly exposed flesh or the threat of even more, in synch with the roll and sway of the way they all move together seemingly as one along with the music. Motion, perpetual, one pelvis angled against another rocking - thrust forward and back again but never in the same pattern and one has to wonder if anyone else was doing anything other than watching the three of them. Youth, beauty, and all the sexual energy intentional or otherwise being unleashed.

What better than dancing to serve as a distraction? Why… shirtless dancing, clearly. It will make it easy to not think about things, by making it very hard to not think about other things. Like bodies, moving to the beat. Like hips, rocking and swaying; like the shoulders that move in tune with them. "Then listen," D'lei answers her, with a tilt of his head as he gives voice to the music, letting it have his lungs in the breathless tones of exertion that are - for the most part - hidden under the music. At least, for everyone who isn't right up against him! Because while alcohol may make some voices louder, and make other ideas seem good whether or not they are, D'lei is… just here to dance. His arms lift in a sweep to the sky (or at least the ceiling) as he dances with Risali, with J'en whose motions he can feel transmitted through her in every step with the beat… because dancing is hot in ways of exertion and sweat and, yes, the press of bodies together, and Risali is tearing off her shirt because of it - reaching for his to do the same, D'lei's lifted arms making it convenient for her to peel it up off toned abdomen and chest, to pull it to where her shorter height means it's stuck on his arms - at least, until he pulls them down, out through the sleeves as he ducks his head and… grins, his words a tease as eyes are bright. "No, you are."

SO MUCH DANCE! The hot press of hotter bodies, the swing of undulating hips that is provocative in and of itself as they move and are moved and lose themselves in the pulsing beat of song. Spines curve, shoulders shift, feet make thoughtless patterns that are no less complicated in their application to the beat that moves through them and helps them get lost. Like Risali is losing her clothes, casting aside her shirt, tugging at D'lei's after being rewarded with his voice that draws grey eyes to amber with soft surprise, with encouragement in the way she watches him as he moves, and he sings, and she helps (coerces?) the oldest of the trio to strip. And he's exposed (okay, so it could be a lot more exposed, but SEMANTICS), and Risali's hands are no longer on her own body, but on D'lei's. She maps the outline of collarbone with the tips of fingers, curls them in to drag nails down D'lei's chest where they flare out along his ribs, sweeping back in as they find the definition of abdomen and pause where leathers dictate she go no further - where she hooks them just underneath, pushing back along his hips and utilizing the leverage she finds to pull him closer to her, to press herself closer to him as he ducks his head in, and she tilts her head back to nip under his jaw and chin as D'lei speaks. "I thought I was beautiful," she teases on a whisper of breath. "And sad." But then the goldrider's eyes are raking up D'lei's body again, her own eyes bright with mischief and a heat that has not dissipated simply because shirts have been lost… and maybe a little bit of inebriation too. "You…" A beat, as she tries to find the right words and fails, laughing. "Are a thief, Dash." Of propriety. And probably her virtue. Again. Because striking, and stunning, and handsome have poorly construed definitions that cannot describe the kind of creature that D'lei is. He's so much more than the inadequacies of any language can hope to capture. Like Jae, who she can feel against her back, and who also has on too many clothes, but is behind the goldrider and so escapes a thorough stripping (of shirts) - for now. And then…? And then the music draws to an end, drawing Risali's attention away from the bodies she's pressed between as her hands come up in the air and she cheers, allows her lungs to labor for breath as she claps her hands and then bounces in tiny jumps against Jae and D'lei. "Don't stop! More music! More!" She's trying to be heard over the din even as she she's swaying on her feet in a way that is less dance and more drunk, dissolving into laughter. "I'm going to be sick." But at least she's being cheerful about it? Even if she's suddenly trying to stumble and push herself away from Dash and Jae.

Panting perhaps, sweating absolutely, when the music comes to an end and the world comes back into focus its a reality that J'en could have done without. Risali topless, D'lei half naked, and the both of them labored in breathing and pressed against one another in such a way that his hands twitch. Upon realization of their location, they fall away, having missed entirely their conversation and any other exchanges that were not expressed in how hips and bodies moved to primal drum beats. The bronzerider takes half a step back when Risali thrusts her arms up in the air and makes demands on the harpers, the grinding of the gears inside his head attempting to change the direction of thought towards something other than the Monaco Bay rider's well defined abdominal musculature and the way his leathers cut across the dip of his hips or the jut of the 'v' they create in tandem with one another. This, of course being, what his eyes had come to focus on with the goldrider sandwiched between them as she half stumbles away. A dull ache pulses into being between Jae's eyes as he works his way through the fog of his own intoxication to try and reach out and stop Risa from falling flat on her face, brow pinched and mind refusing to focus. Instead it was everywhere at once. To the people shuffling by, to the one or two stares they're still subject to, to the bartender passing drinks just behind them, to the sweat sliding down the curvature of her back and the thick length of lashes around amber hued eyes. That throb was rapidly becoming a stab, intensifying even as the harpers acquiesce to the bold request and begin to play again and feet shuffle across the floor to make use of it despite claims of impending sic. "Risa…"

At least it's the top half of D'lei that's naked. It could be worse, because that V of abdomen only implies how it makes an hourglass of hips and legs, how those lines lead in with their contours to show that he is … yep, those riding leathers are FITTED, they are. Things one might notice, as eyes follow the shape of bronzerider body in the absence of a goldrider shield… but never mind that. D'lei's laugh for Risa's tease turns into a concerned look for her sickness, a lowering of his arms as he tilts his body away to give her a chance to escape instead of painting the dance floor with slightly-used booze. He glances to J'en, with a lopsided smile. "Another drink, more dancing, or your chance to escape?" he asks the Half Moon bronzer, though he doesn't wait that long for a reply before he's ducking down to catch the pair of shirts - his and Risa's - before they get too trampled. Once he's done that, he'll linger for another moment for answers before… yeah, cheerful or not, he's going to go make sure Risali doesn't find herself a cliff to go with her sick. But first! "I'm headed by the bar…" he adds for J'en, with a tilt of his head as if to invite the other man along… though he'll be boring when he gets there, just a glass of water instead of anything fun.

SO MANY EYES, SO MANY GAWKERS, SO MANY PEOPLE NOT MINDING THEIR BUSINESS. Risali doesn't care; she's used to having eyes on her for reasons that are not just a lack of clothing - like yelling at people, and potential murder, and things that come with a much more negative connotation. Jae reaches out to study the goldrider and she laughs, swatting his hand away as she stumbles, pauses, stumbles again and settles in the nearest seat she can park her body at. No cliffs for her, no actual sick, either; Risali simply leans forward as she catches her breath and presses her face into the cool surface of the table, grey eyes closed as she wills away nausea, and heat, and - her name? Risali lifts her head again, blinking after Jae with a smile and more laughter when D'lei comes to make sure she's alright. She waves him off too, blowing a kiss before she motions for Jae to follow Dash. Don't mind her. She'll be right here, relearning the finer points of how to breathe and maybe not create biohazards on the floor.

Golden eyes do linger to seek line and contour for possibly a heartbeat or two, an admiration for the flesh seemingly poured into that fitted leather mould, but no longer. There is the most fleeting of glances for the rest not covered, left to glisten and attract the odd strand of hair or droplet of sweat and then gone as J'en finds new reason to clamp his teeth together and grind them in reflection to the way the muscles at the peak of his jaw twitches. All else might be ease and laughter in the pursuit of fun, but the Half Moon Bay Wingleader was in his own personal hell which had only intensified thanks to the pressing of bodies and mood enhancing drumbeats. His gaze passing between D'lei and Risali and it was all he needed to confirm that the relief and release he was now actively seeking would be be found with them. A heavy look falls onto the Monaco Bay rider before it skips over him to slam into the woman Impressed at Xanadu. "Fuck this shit," he growls under his breath, glaring mostly at the barcounter draped goldrider. "Stay the fuck away from meh for a while." It was more hiss than annunciated, turning on a heavily booted foot to stomp the best way he could considering the alcohol pumping through his veins which made rational decision making impossible at best. He grabs his bottle half consumed booze and jacket, heading straight for the exit and the cooler night air beyond. Shoulders tight, brow furrowed tighter, and golden hued death for anyone stupid enough to meet his gaze as feet move with purposeful movement to take him free of everything that music and movement had seductively promised but teasingly left undelivered.

And J'en makes his decision about this shit and how it is being fucked, and D'lei watches him go with… yep, a grin. He watches J'en until the other bronzer's about at the door, as that grin turns into a laugh and then… a shake of his head, tossing that off as - since J'en is quite gone - he joins Risali, sliding the glass of water in to where it will be there in view when she dares raise her over-heated head again, tossing her shirt over the back of her chair as an offer of some modesty to be reclaimed (or not, maybe it's just there to wipe off some sweat) and… taking another chair for himself, lounging sideways against it with one arm hooked around the back as he watches the crowd move and dance and… do all those crowd things.

More mean words from J'en when all Risali wanted to do was dance. Risali wanted to be the physical manifestation of music, the embodiment of beat and rhythm, and share the frenzy of bodies in motion. Risali's goal was not to seduce; it certainly was not to further enrage Jae, but to give him something to do that helps her be less… everything. And it didn't work. And maybe anybody else would cower away from Jae's fury, but Risali meets it head on with brows raising and grey eyes working through intoxicated confusion to try and find out just why he's pissed at her this time - ohp, there he goes. Risali's lips are forming soft vowels that are soundless in an effort to respond, and maybe if she wasn't drunk she would have had a better response than staring blankly until D'lei is in view and she gives him a smile as he brings her water. "Daaaaash," and she pulls the glass over, downing it slowly, leaning sideways into his sideways leaning with her head finding his shoulder while she works on his GIFT. It will undoubtedly help in the morning. Then? An exhale as she dips her head, hiding her mouth behind her hand as she laughs. "I think you stole Jae's propriety too. His virtue was gone a long time ago, but somebody should make laws against you." Risali tilts her head back, so she can smile at D'lei. "Wicked bronzerider." And maybe she is poking a finger to his cheek, holding it there as she twists the appendage, and tries to find her thoughts again amid so much BRAIN MUSH. OH, THERE IT IS. "I want to go outside. And I want to swim. And I want to -" A pause, as Risali leans a little closer, as if she's just seeing D'lei for the first time and running fingers over the lines of his face - his nose, his brow, his jaw, his lips. "You are fiercely handsome, Dash." And there's one of those smiles that's not at all sober, but no less meant. "I love you." AND SHE'S LEANING FORWARD, to put her glass on the table, to ignore her shirt as she moves to stand on her chair with enough balance even if it's a bit shaky. "PIGGY-BACKS, DASH! OUTSIDE! TAKE ME!" And maybe he can DANCE THEM OUT, given she's already starting to shake those hips again while she waits for him to reject or acquiesce her request.

D'lei traces his fingers along Risali's arm, up across her shoulder and… he laughs again, crossing over shoulders as she leans in against him and drinks that water that… her head will be pleased about in the morning when it has slightly less of an ache. "Maybe he'll find it again when he gets to the bottom of that bottle," D'lei suggests with a laugh, and turns his head to nuzzle in at Risali's hand, at the skin between fingers and thumb with his lips and a little tease of tongue as she burrows her finger into his cheek to find her words where she apparently hid them in his word-hole. "I'm certainly not keeping his." Risali's, on the other hand? Well. She has hands, and if they are maybe not the steadiest… nor her words the clearest… they are still running across his face as she speaks desires that… include him. D'lei's head tilts forward, with a kiss for Risa's fingers, a laugh that's followed by a softer smile. "And I love you," he murmurs, words soft and almost muffled even before she leaps into motion, to the chair and… shirts? They can be tucked into his leathers, one on each side, before he of the steady feet takes Risali onto his back and dances her right on out of here. Okay, so it's not the most elaborate dance, because he'd rather not trip and fall, but still. He sways to the music, she sways more to the music, and he carries her right out of there and down to the beach where they will swim. Because so what if Risali is drunk? He's not, and D'lei is a search and rescue wingleader. THIS IS PRACTICALLY HIS JOB, IT'S FINE.

Add a New Comment
Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 License