Truly Bad Ideas

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. Behind it are drinks for those not inclined toward ale, as well as a door leading to the small kitchen where snacks are made and a back room that probably holds yet more ale.

It's not quite lunch time yet (probably, Rhodelia hasn't really adjusted to any time difference and psssshaw, what's a clock?), and the Tavern is dead-dead-dead. Aside from that one guy that wanted a beer and a patty melt and since he's been served, Rhodelia is currently drooped onto the bar counter, eyes closed and face resting on what might be a questionable surface if she hadn't had plenty of free time this morning to clean it already. There's a very soft grunt of "Whyyyyyyy?" that escapes the current bartender's lips. Not to anybody in particular. Maybe the ceiling.

It's 5 o'clock somewhere, right? And even if it isn't, Nessalyn is here with a massive beer mug in hand ready to start half the day off properly. That's right, she brought her own mug. She doesn't trust the lot of you. Which is probably why she looks faintly disgusted as she saunters her way up to the bar and finds the bartender resting her face on the top. "Well, if you didn't want your face stuck to a bar, you probably shouldn't have put it there. That's on you." No sympathy coming from this quarter. "But as a more general rule, everything hates you and life is full of suffering. Get used to it."

"Chi-chirrr," the ceiling answers. …oh, wait. That's not actually the ceiling, it's just a green firelizard. But hey, at least she's bent her head down to peek at the bartender and offer what might even pass for sympathy! So … really, it's arguable whether she or Nessalyn has the better reply. What's certain is that D'lei is being no help, at least not yet, because he is only just opening that door to arrive for whatever it is he's arriving for. Probably an important meeting. Or maybe an important drink. Or both! Who knows?

Or an important — WAHPOW!! — collision with Risali (who is very much sans her knot, ya'll, because she's about that life) when the goldrider just plows RIGHT ON INTO D'LEI'S BACK. Maybe it hurts, or maybe it was intentional, but either way, Risali's fingers are twisting in the fabric of the Weyrleader's shirt as she slow-horror-movie peers around his side to glare up at him accusingly (TOTALLY YOUR FAULT, SHE WAS JUST WALKING OK), and then blinks grey eyes bar-wards. Right onto Ness. And the not-so-familiar face that she can't really see because it's pressed against the bar top. "Nope," is all Risali says, mostly to D'lei as she lets go of his shirt and shifts weight to one hip, arms coming across her chest. "That looks like paperwork and that's all you, Fearless Weyrleader." And maybe there's a hint of humor in Risali's expression (it's totally there) when she turns her gaze back onto the other two women and raises her brows. "We talked about this, Nessalyn. Murder isn't a proper greeting in a weyr setting. You have to use your words." RUDEST, IT'S HER. But she's mostly joking, even if she probably doesn't know Ness well enough to joke like that. But, this is Risali. She's not exactly very good with people.

"My face isn't stuck!" Rhodelia doth protest, even if she is rather slow lifting her head and proving the whole not-stuck theory. She distracted from glaring at Nessalyn and her cheery rules of life by the chirruping from the ceiling and a little bit of ducking preemptively just in case chi-chirr is immediately followed by dive bombing. "Is she your's?" The question is to Nessa seeing as D'lei is still at the door. Weyrleader, murder? Rhodelia is just left blinking at the newcomers as she slowly grabs an empty mug. Oh, and there's the whole work thing. "Is anybody wanting to make an order?"

Nessalyn grimaces as Rhodelia lifts her head, half-waiting for skin to cling to the bartop and turn the girl's face into a Halloween mask monstrosity. When it doesn't, she looks fainly disappointed, mumbling, "You got lucky this time." Sigh. And then there's one of those flying pests up on the ceiling, which she's quick to assure the bartender isn't hers, thanks. But before she can follow those assurances with some undoubtedly offensive statement on her opinion of the creatures, she's interrupted by Risali and D'lei. Nessalyn's mouth drops open in offense at the goldrider's claims. "I haven't threatened to murder anyone!" Today. There should probably a 'today' at the end of that sentence. Or maybe just a 'since walking into the tavern'. She does manage to put that giant mug up on the counter in the midst of this scandalized moment, because now she needs a drink more than ever.

Collisions are meetings. They're meetings of Risali's front with D'lei's back. Also of her hands, with his shirt. Also of his eyes - beneath raised brows, and with a hint of sideways-pulling smile - with hers. These super-important agenda items concluded, he can move on to… murder? Or maybe not. There's no firelizard attack, either; the green retracts that curious head to all-but-hide in her tucked wings once more. "That's good, then," D'lei says with a pleasant smile like he's heard good news about the weather and not, y'know, murder. "Even when it turns out for the best, it's remarkably inconvenient." He turns the smile to Rhodelia, like he's about to order, then pauses and turns back to Nessalyn. "Next Tuesday, by the way. Early afternoon, if you can manage it."

That half-smile is met with an open-handed smack to the cuff of D'lei's shoulder, a silent kind of, 'Shut up, D'lei,' that's communicated in expression versus vocable. And then she's moving on, back to the women, back to Rhodelia whose question earns her a scrunch-nosed smile before those grey eyes dart back to Nessalyn and her scandalized spirit. She doesn't have to answer, because D'lei does, and Risali is DEFINITELY NOT FIGHTING BACK A SMILE, NOT HER. The teeth on her bottom lip and the curves in the corner are habit, honest. And then she's lifting her brows for times and dates given by the Weyrleader, communicating a silent, 'Ooooo, you're in troubbbbbllleee,' that she, again, doesn't vocalize. Instead she moves towards the bar, dropping her arms as she pulls herself up into a chair, and rests her elbows on the bartop, and leaaans forward. Those grey eyes study Rhodelia for a moment, chin dipping between her hands so that curled fingers are pushing her cheeks up and — "I really want rum," the goldrider intones, "but men are idiots, so I will have a water instead, please." WHO COMES TO THE BAR AND ORDERS WATER? Risali, that's who. "Or, is there something non-alcoholic that you'd recommend? Also, don't worry about Ness here. She's sweet beneath all the murder and death." BEAM.

Rhodelia is still bewilderly glancing between the trio of patrons. "I'll make sure to trade my shift that day. Murder sounds messy." She'd have to break out the mop bucket and that's a duty she'd rather avoid, thanks. But since someone is actually asking for an order, Rhody peers around the bar. "I don't think I have any water…" Unless you count the questionable mop water which she's not peeved enough to serve to anyone just yet. But she does have actual mixers at hand! "I can make a strawberry margarita… without the liquor?"

"And we don't need entrails everywhere," Nessalyn adds in an equally pleasant tone — where's Taeli when you need her? — only to do a double-take when D'lei throws a random date out at her. Wait, what? She boggles at him for a moment, clearly biting back a few more colorful comments in favor of plain skepticism. In the end, she seems to decide it's less trouble to just pretend she knows what's going on than to open the door to further inquiry, so she just shrugs. "Sure. Yeah." Nooooo idea what's going on, and that look from Risali certainly doesn't improve things. She narrows her eyes at the Weyrwoman, silently communicating her own 'this if your fault somewhow' before turning to nudge her mug in Rhodelia's direction. "Fill 'er up. And I'm not." Sweet, that is. She shoots a glare in Risali's direction. BFFS.

D'lei just has a blandly pleasant look for Nessalyn, one that's got a hint of humor underneath it but doesn't exactly make clear what it is he's thinking. Aaand… "Good," he says as she agrees to whatever it is, with a nod before he looks back to Rhodelia… then down to Nessalyn's mug. "…think she needs it more than me," he muses to the bartender, then glances to Risali. "I mean, if strawberries are just too terrible, I'm sure we could arrange some water…" he says with a grin, and then - after the violence that is surely forthcoming - looks back to Nessalyn-who-is-not-sweet. "So, what are you?"

Ahhh, the questionable mop water. The very water that Risali used once, here in this bar, to overturn on another bronzerider. A STORY FOR ANOTHER TIME. Now is the time for contemplating the water shortage in the bar, and the offer of strawberry margaritas in its stead. Risali stares at Rhodelia for a long moment, back to D'lei and then — "Yes, okay. Strawberry margarita without the fun." The smile that comes is fleeting, but honest, a hint of humor and mischief somewhere in that expression even as she patpatpats a seat beside her, expecting D'lei to know that's for him. "Come closer so that I can hit you, and then complain about whoever runs this weyr. No water in the tavern? Honestly; they must be uncultured monsters." ALL SOMBER, ALL FIGHTING BACK SMILES as she looks from D'lei to Nessalyn and raises her brows. It says, 'Yes, Nessalyn, do tell: what are you?' She even meets that glare by ducking behind her hand to stifle the incoming smile. MORE RAISED BROWS FOR YOU. "D'lei, I'm pretty sure she just threatened to murder me." But there's a hint of laughter in her voice, so don't worry. Stage whisper, "Think I can take her?" Probably meant for Dash and Rhodelia (and Ness) both.

"Right…" Just ignore that little half step that Rhodelia takes away from the crazy-murder lady. It was clearly to fetch more lime juice and not to avoid any possible entrails. It's a good thing that Risali agreed to the no-fun margarita since Rhody was half finished making a batch. One serving goes into a mug (yes, a mug and not a fancy special glass, but that just means more fits in it!) and passed to Risali. And since Nessalyn didn't specify what she wanted in the mug, the rest of it's poured into the mug she's holding out. "There you go."

YOU KNEW WHAT SHE MEANT, RHODELIA. At least that's Nessalyn's opinion, as she fixes the bartender with a stink-eye that has been perfected after turns of practice. It's about as close to a murder threat as anyone has yet received, and there's a grunted, "Alcohol," from the woman as she shoves the mug back toward Rhodelia. She'll even drink that strawberry concoction, as long as there's some kind of liquor involved. Her still-narrowed gaze sweeps toward D'lei and Risali, eyeing the pair with equal suspicion. That look sharpens on Risali when the woman TRIES TO GET HER INTO TROUBLE. Deeeep breaths. Don't start a fight with the Weyrwoman. Deeeeep breaths. "I'm pretty sure I'm a person. Just not a sweet, fuzzy one." As for taking her? She's not going to dignify that with an answer.

D'lei sits down by Risali, because he is in fact obliging, and thus obliges her. "Most likely. You know how it is, no standards anywhere these days." A grin for her, because why bother fighting the smile, and then he's looking back to Nessalyn. A person? "Seems a reasonable thing to be, that," he acknowledges with an amiable nod. "If you weren't, I'd have to wonder what you were doing going around walking and talking and asking for booze." D'lei smiles, then tilts his head to look back to Risali. "She's not a zombie." Which … doesn't answer the question. Does it?

"Thank you," is offered to Rhodelia — earnest and honest in her gratitude as she takes a sip and — "Faranth, that is good." It might be why she's pushing it with the tips of fingers towards D'lei, a silent 'taste this' as grey eyes really take in the little lady tending the bar. "Are you new here?" she asks, softer, even as her attention is pulled back to D'lei, back to Nessalyn who… okay. Maybe Risali takes pity on; maybe she realizes that she's starting to toe lines and threatening to overstep them, because there's a soft, "Sorry, Nessalyn," before Risali turns towards D'lei, meets his smile with one of her own, and answers, "She's definitely not that. I think there's be more brains everywhere." BUT WHAT IS THIS? A HEIST. She's digging in the bronzerider's pockets (Risali, that is NOT a pocket) for — AHA! Marks. She totally just stole some of D'lei's marks, and she's using them to push across the bartop towards Rhodelia. "For mine. And for hers too." Because that's kind of like an apology, right? Right. And then she's clearing her throat to try and start this thing all over again, maybe twisting fingers in the fabric of D'lei's shirt to draw on his strength and personality because she's really bad at it. "So what brings you here?" And yeah, that question is for both Rhodelia and Nessalyn, if the way grey eyes jump between both are any indication.

"You're welcome," Rhodelia replies cheerily enough. And when Nessalyn actually demands alcohol with her drink, Rhody taps a hand to her cheek and then grabs the nearest bottle of rum. At least her pouring is more than generous. She even stirs it up and adds one of those fancy little umbrellas to the drink with an actual cherry skewered on the end. "And there you go. I am. New, ma'am. And I second that she's actually a person. Probably." Small possibility Nessa might be a vengeful robot, but she's not considering that option. The stolen marks are eyed but money is money and so she'll slip that into her apron. If D'lei objects, he can say something, right? As for what brings her here, Rhody just clears her throat a little. "I'm here because my shift started at ten?"

"Dragons walk and talk," ish. It's the best argument Nessalyn has, so she's going with it. "And I'm sure some of them like booze." A pointed look goes to Risali, because alcohol would explain a lot. The vengeful robot theory does hold some credence, especially given that Nessalyn's hair is filled with bits of wire twisted among the strands, the odd cog, and finished with a pair of pliers stuffed into her messy bun. "Thanks," she mutters, juuuust loud enough to be heard. She looks slightly pained to be saying it, but at least this new drink brings a faint smile to her lips. Sugar and alcohol? Win/win. Another long, instrutable look is sent in Risali's direction, before Ness gives a simple nod. Apology accepted, we're all good here. "I'm posted here." WOW, SUCH HELPFUL ANSWERS.

D'lei makes no objection to the theft of his marks. It's like he's used to it or… something. That, or he's extra oblivious today, but probably not. He does, however, take a sip of that rum-less drink, because… hey, he's paying for it, he might as well! "It is good, yeah," he agrees, with a smile that starts with Risali and then extends to Rhodelia as the purveyor of it. His gaze continues to Nessalyn, and he laughs. "Hey, I never claimed you were human. Dragons are people too, they're just… more dragon-y." He grins, then nods to the explanations given by both. Shifts and postings, good excuses all around!

A shift started, and a posting was made. Risali looks from Rhodelia, to Nessalyn, to D'lei who — give Risali a moment, D'lei smiled, and her brain needs a moment to recalibrate — SEEMS TO UNDERSTAND these answers and therefore earns himself a look. Back to Rhodelia, "It's Risali. Not 'ma'am', and I meant here, in Xanadu Weyr." At least the words are soft, a hint of amusement in them even as grey eyes shift to Nessalyn, catches that pointed look, and smiles in the face of it before shaking her head and dropping her gaze back to her drink. She pulls it back her way, turning her head to look at D'lei once more as she sips and — "Right, and they've got the teeth, and the wings, and the…" did Risali just make T-Rex hands? She did. She made T-Rex hands. TALONS, PEOPLE. "Fire breathing. Can we make a test?"

"Risali… ohhhh," Rhodelia may be new, but she's not that new. Names of folks with very big knots should be learned, even if said people chose not to wear those knots. "I'm pretty sure I'm still supposed to ma'am. Right?" She looks to D'lei like he might be able to weigh in there with a second opinion. As for firebreathing, bad ideas are born from free time and alcohol and there seems to be both around (even if not everybody is consuming said alcohol). "I can get something higher proof from the back… and maybe a match."

All of the sudden, Nessalyn gives Rhodelia a look that's almost friendly. Unfortunately, that expression morphs on the heels of the bartender offering to get matches and higher proof alcohol. "We should definitely have a test." Yes. For once, there's a hint of enthusiasm for something which doesn't involve her craft. She lifts that giant mug (with the generous serving of rum) to her lips and takes a long pull, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand when finished. "I would like to prove that I can breathe fire. I'm not sure about the flying, but the fire breathing…"

"Well," D'lei says to Rhodelia with just a hint of smile. "That is the question, mmh? Do you do what you were told to do by whoever it was that told you that was what you were supposed to do for any hypothetical weyrwoman… or do you do what this weyrwoman, who's right here, is telling you to do for her?" He steals another sip of Risali's drink, the better to give Rhodelia time to think - and Risali time to enumerate the details of what makes a dragon - then grins as he looks to Nessalyn. "I believe in giving people chances," he says, and reaches into his own pocket this time to bring out some marks and set them on the counter. Challenge: funded!

MISS. RHODELIA. Did you just look past Risali to D'lei and then not answer her question to boot? SHAAAAME. Only not really, though Risali's brows do rise as the barmaid looks to D'lei for help, as D'lei does what D'lei does best and gives answers that point you in the right direction without making the choice for you, and then Risali is exhaling a sigh. "You never know, I could have gone invisible. Stranger things have probably happened. Am I invisible, Dashiel?" But there's humor in that question too, a hint that she's maybe not really offended even as she watches D'lei drink more of her drink and then pulls it back to drink some more of it herself. Right back between them it goes, clearly a shared commodity now as marks are pulled out and Risali focuses on that aspect of the conversation instead. "Outside though." To protect the building, obviously. "Leirith will want to see it." See? Protecting the buildings and not at all ensuring Leirith can be present for the show of fire breathing that she's probably already creeping into the minds of everybody to — « FIRE! AHAHAHAHAHA » There she is, all bass, and drums, and booming, indiscriminate excitement for you, and you, and you, and you!

Now, Rhodelia could answer questions about what etiquette she should or should not follow OR she could make rather questionable choices. The second one sounds much more fun and so once the marks are placed on the counter, she's spinning around with a yell of "I'll get the liquor! And some water!" Yes, the questionable mop-water will make an appearance a few minutes later as Rhody reappears from the store room with a bottle tucked under one arm and trying desperately trying not to slosh the bucket of mop water. "Outside? Outside is good." Nevermind Mr. Patty Melt guy that's eating painstakingly slow. Rhody certainly isn't. She does set her bucket down momentarily to pass the bottle of questionable strong spirits over to Nessalyn. "I probably wouldn't drink that. It's used for cleaning. But it should burn really well."

Nessalyn just leans against the bar, sipping at her drink and taking perverse pleasure in watching Rhodelia sort of get into trouble. Sure, she's not actually getting yelled at, but it's the closest thing Ness has seen all day, and the fact that someone else is the victim of one of Risali's looks makes it all the better. She keeps at that drink, because making poor choices is always more fulfilling when you're mildly intoxicated. "Outside?" There's a scoff for the fact that the goldrider won't let her burn the entire tavern to the ground. Then, "Wait, no, not-" TOO LATE. Even if she completely expects Leirith's bombardment, it somehow doesn't keep the woman from wincing. Moar alcohol pls. She downs the rest of her drink before taking the bottle from Rhody. "Hey, you," that's to Mr. Patty Melt, "there's a show to go with your lunch if you get your ass out of here." You're welcome, Rhodelia. "Is it going to kill me if I hold it in my mouth for a minute?" Pause. "You know what, I don't really care. Let's do this." And out the door goes Nessalyn, fully expecting to be assaulted by Leirith as soon as she crosses the threshold.

D'lei tilts his head a bit, observing, then - as Rhodelia goes to fetch supplies for a terrible idea - turns it toward Risali. "I think you might have," he informs her. "It's tragic, but don't worry. You'll fade from everyone's memories soon enough, so at least you won't trouble anyone else with the rest of your ghostly existence." So reassuring he is, with a smile as he says it and an arm around her to give her shoulder some pats. But hey! Now there's a terrible concoction - and also some mop water - and it's time to go see just where Nessalyn's life choices will take her. Besides 'outside, into Leirith's exuberance'. D'lei slides back off the stool he just got on, and grins to Risali. "We can at least give you a firey salute for your send-off."

Yep, totally ignored. Risali just watches the rush, pretends not to hear Nessalyn's protests (or Leirith, for that matter), and then looks at D'lei as his arm comes around her and reassuring pats are delivered. A beat, two, three, and as he slides from his stool, Risali slides from hers to hook an arm around his hips and tuck her shoulder in against his side. "You are entirely too excited about never having to deal with me again." A punch, to his side, because he deserved it. "I always knew you wanted K'vir to yourself, you greedy, greedy man. There's enough of him to share, you know." But she's smiling back, knocking into him once more with her body as she eyes the mop-bucket-water, debates pointing out that it will probably be getting poured on Nessalyn if she catches fire, and foregoes the warnings because sometimes her sense of humor is really the worst. Like her dragon, who is also the worst and is definitely there to greet every party with a awkwardly-knobbed head and too-short limbs. « MINIONS, I HAVE BROUGHT TOGETHER A GRAND JURY OF PROFESSIONAL BADASS FIREBREATHERS WHO WILL JUDGE YOUR BREATHING OF FIRE. » "Leirith, I don't think —" « YOU DO NOT THINK, MINION. IT IS TRUE. So I did the thinky thoughts for you! And I told Garouth and Zekath. » BEAM. Notice she doesn't say what their answer was, and Risali doesn't pursue it. Instead she rolls her eyes, and motions towards Rhodelia and Nessalyn. "Lead the way, ladies."

Rhodelia may or may not have exaggerated the lack of water in the tavern. But the bucket was there and ready and dirty mop water beats having no skin, probably. "K'vir?" She walked in on that conversation only late enough to be confused, although she'd probably be confused even if she heard the beginning. At least Risali isn't being completely ignored. As for whether this will kill Nessa or not, Rhody shrugs. "Probably not. If you start getting sick, I hear the healers have something to clear out your stomach…" And there's just a nod as the Patty Melt dude is shooed away. No come back agains offered as she's practically bouncing in excitement about the impending show, even if that does slosh a bit of the water out. She'll clean that later. "Wait, Leirith is going to be there?" Rhodelia's bouncing pauses right at the door as she peers out looking for a VERY, VERY BIG dragon.

Decision already made, Rhodelia's claim that the healers can clear out her stomach does nothing to deter Nessalyn from her quest. Sometimes we have to endure a little stomach pumping in the pursuit of a good time, right? RIGHT. She does her best to just ignore Leirith, passing by the gold and not reacting if she attempts to make any kind of contact. Sure, not acknowledging things and hoping they just cease to exist has never worked for her in the past, but maybe this time will be different. "You have to stand out of the way." That's to Risali, whom she waves away as soon as she has secured a spot that makes her unlikely to set anything else on fire (besides herself). "Because you're- you know." RISALI KNOWS WHAT SHE IS.

"I am, in fact, an open book," D'lei admits to Risali. "Which is rather strange, given that most books don't walk or talk. Or breathe fire." He slides his arm in around her, because that's what he does to people who punch him (when they're Risali), and they head on out to keep an eye on these proceedings. "…I'm not sure you could keep Leirith away, really." There's fire. It's badass. There's Leirith. She's loud. Also large. The other dragon currently arriving, well, he's relatively small compared to her (though still big enough to be a bronze dragon), and he's definitely quiet compared to her in terms of both his mind (which does not broadcast to everyone) and the way he moves as he takes his seat in the shadow of the tavern building and tucks his tail in around his legs. He's out of the way! Like Risali will be, and D'lei with her. "Very flammable," he agrees with what Nessalyn surely meant. "Like a marshmallow." SWEET AND GOOPY.

"Shut up, D'lei," Risali laughs, another shift of her weight to knock him slightly to the side without steering him off course. "Are you going to try?" The fire breathing, she means. But there's Rhodelia! K'vir? Rhodelia's question is answered with a smile — the kind of smile that has her biting down on her bottom lip to contain some of it even as she presses one finger to them in the universal sign of silence. It's a secret, except it's not. Not really, but Risali is quick to avoid topics that involve personal things, K'vir being one of them. So instead her attention drifts back to D'lei when he answers the questions about Leirith, nodding in agreement with the assessment that she will definitely be there and why. And Leirith? SHE IS SO THERE. She's all big, boxy, not-quite-pretty bulk that's an undignified mustard yellow and yet seems completely undaunted by her own flaws; she makes up for a lack of physical beauty with sheer temerity and the kind of cheer that doesn't stop. Ever. She's also attempting to boop Nessalyn's butt with her snoot, but that's details that people (definitely not Risali) should just pay no mind to. "Can you not hear her?" Risali asks Rhodelia, genuinely curious because — there it is again, a swell of heady beat and bass and drums that does not stay on the path to only Risali's mind, but batters at the minds of all those receptive to her touch. « DO NOT DISAPPOINT ME, MINION! » And maybe she's giving up to boop D'lei's butt instead, to laugh as she moves closer to Garouth without squishing him for once and lowers herself to wait in barely restrained anticipation. That's why the continuous laughter, honest. Risali, welllll… She tilts her head with a half-smile for Nessalyn, a kind of understanding of what she means even as she smacks D'lei again and moves off to the side with him. "I'll show you a marshmallow, mister." SO MUCH INSULT. WOW.

The claim that stomachs can indeed be pumped was supposed to be comforting! Rhodelia has plans for fire (mop water) and possible poisoning (the healers). What more can you expect? Rhody is left with shrugging when she's not enlightened as to who exactly K'vir is. She'll find out at some point or else he's a non-drinker and are they really worth knowing? And as for hearing Leirith, the jump at the minion proclaimation would be a yes, just like the nod of confirmation she gives. "Is she always so loud?" That's a whisper to the weyrwoman even as Rhody is trying to keep her butt out of booping range. "Good thing I have the mop water then." For all the marshmallow flammable people around. "Do you need any well, help?" To Nessalyn, although what help Rhody can give is questionable at best.

That hefty serving of rum is kicking in, and Nessalyn feels just lightheaded enough to overwhelm any pesky doubts which might try to ensure some sort of self-preservation instinct. NONE HERE. She's the one who's going to leap off a cliff first and check for rocks below on the way down. "Alright, Leirith. I'm pretty sure you don't deserve this, but hey." She spares the gold one glance, before turning to look at Rhodelia. "Unless you want to hold the match," don't do it, Rhody, "I don't think there's much you can do." Just have that bucket ready. She opens the bottle, taking a brief swig and practicing her method of spitting it out. Y'all wanted to watch a woman spit booze, right? "Ugh." It's nasty, if the twist of her lips is any indication, but she still lifts the bottle to her lips another time. Cheeks puffed out, she lights a match and holds it out as far as her little arms will allow. (Look, she's small, it isn't far.) And then she spits, briefly. AND WOOOOOOOOOOSH GOES THE FLAME. Nessalyn drops the match with a yelp as her hand becomes far too acquainted with fire, a series of expletives falling from her lips.

D'lei gives Leirith's head an affable thump in answer to that butt-boop. Sometimes dragons and their riders start to resemble each other, after all. Behaviorally, at least; if Risa turns yellow, those healers should also be gotten involved. "Oh my," he replies to Risali's insult, with an arch and wiggle of his brows, then grins as he gives her a bit of a squeeze. Garouth rumbles softly as Leirith joins him, though his yellow-flecked eyes remain focused on the small and flammable creatures of human appearance but draconic aspirations. And there's the spit-up… yes, good, Nessalyn has proved her power over the elements of alcohol. And the t-rex-talon extended match… and « FIRE!!!!!! » Is that a word from Leirith, her expression of emotional glee attached to the concept of flame, or just the fact that there sure is one and fire has a way of drawing attention? GOOD QUESTION. But Nessalyn succeeds, and there's only a minor unintended consequence. Only one hand! And between them, they've got like eight of them here. D'lei abandons Risali as the profanity starts, shrugging out of his jacket as he does. Impromptu flame-smothering device, get! Which is what he'll apply to Nessalyn's hand if it doesn't wise up and stop burning before he gets there.

Zekath is up there somewhere in the shadows too (I GOT PERMISH, RELAX), probably a little alarmed by humans having draconic aspirations, but enduring the sheer ludicrous nature of this entire shindig in good spirits because, well, there are things that you learn when you share a ledge with a certain Queen — rolling with the unpredictable punches is one of them. But the question for Leirith's decibels as answered with a one-shouldered shrug and an almost-wry (or resigned) pull at the corner of Risali's lips. "Always has been." And she probably always will be, Rhodelia. Welcome to Xanadu Weyr. And while Leirith booms laughter at insults that neither faze nor deter her, Risali squeezes D'lei back and clamps her teeth at him before turning her eyes onto the show. And, yes — « FIRE!!!!! » As we have ALREADY ESTABLISHED via D'LEI'S POSE, LEIRITH (but she was so excited it needed saying twice), Risali watches with wide eyes and then cheers and then — ohp, nope. Thaaaaaat's not good, and so Risali doesn't even try to stop D'lei when he abandons her. Instead the goldrider makes strides to keep up — not because she intends to get in his way and pretend that she miraculously became a healer, but because she can do one thing really well: "What do you need, Dash?" She can fetch, and there's an unshakable calm about her as prepares herself to run for gauze, or cold water, or a dang healer if that's what's needed.

It was really so exciting it needed to be said three times, and Rhodelia is the charm with an exclamation of "FIRE!!!" all of her own. She even jumps up in the air with a celebratory hand wave but then there are other hands and more fire and celebration is cut off with a yelp. The questionable mop water was brought out for just such an occasion and so the water bucket is getting thrown in the direction of Nessalyn and probably D'lei depending on how quickly he's running with the whole jacket thing. Whether it hits either of them is a whole other matter. "Ooooops."

Well, it could always be worse. Nessalyn's entire face could be on fire, so really, a sacrificial hand isn't all that bad. Of course, she doesn't really have the presence of mind to consider the alternatives when FLAMES ARE TRYING TO EAT HER HAND. That mop water lands more on her body than on the burning extremity in question, but it's a momentary distraction from the PAIN! BURNING! OW!! situation. And then D'lei and his jacket are there to SAVE THE DAY. Or at least keep Ness from becoming an honorary member of the Skywalker family. "Motherf-" There's plenty more swearing to be had. Really, she could do this all day. "I'M WET AND MY HAND IS A CHARRED STUMP."

DROWN THE FIRE! …wait, no, the water isn't exactly managing that, it's more splashing Nessalyn … and also D'lei. Good coverage! Wide spread! Bad … actually putting out the fire, but that's a detail and there's an A for effort even though effort doesn't start with A, but it's okay, Leirith doesn't mind if you're terrible at spelling. D'lei suffocates the fire instead of drowning it, and let me assure you, Nessa, that the weathered leather of his jacket against alcohol-fueled flames is the opposite of great. Especially when he really pushes the leather firmly against the scalded skin to make sure that he's got the fire out. …but hey, at least he does get the fire out! And the water dripping from both of them helps make sure that match is going to gutter out instead of setting the ground on fire, so, bonus! Well done, Rhodelia! "Okay," D'lei says, because hopefully it is, and removes the jacket to actually look at the hand that… probably only feels like char and ash. It probably just looks like a lobster with dermatitis. Or so he hopes! "Let's see…"

INCOMING BUCKETS! But NOT TODAY, rogue bucket. NOT TODAY. Risali manages to not get hit by it, giving Rhodelia a look like ARE YOUR LIMBS OKAY, CHILD? DO YOU NEED A HEALER? as she moves after D'lei but stands far enough back not to actually be, you know, in the way. Instead she waits for instructions, grey eyes focusing on Rhodelia instead of Nessalyn's burned hand and… maybe Risali is extending a hand for Ness to take and squeeze if she needs another outlet for the pain. Because, you know, she knows that helps sometimes. Still, now is the time for leaving the important things to the people who are actually trained for these kinds of situations. She might be barking orders out soon, but for now, Risa's just pretending Leirith isn't trying to peer over heads and see just what the fire left in its wake. « FEAR NOT, MINION. IT WAS STILL BADASS. » Sigh.

Rhodelia is just going to curl her own limbs inward now that she's bucket-free. Maybe out of embarrassment at tossing a bucket at the Weyrwoman, maybe at the whole water-not-helping thing, or more likely a little of both column A and Column B. "We still have more of the spirits if you need to disinfect it?" Immediately after offering the suggestion, she's dropping her eyes and scuffling over to reclaim the lobbed bucket. One awkward side-shuffle step at a time.

Nessalyn isn't big on touching, but D'lei and his jacket are getting a free pass thanks to the whole EVERYTHING IS ON FIRE AND I'M DYING situation. (Maybe it's not that dire, but brains can be pretty primitive and right now Ness's is assuring her of her imminent demise.) There's a lot of hissing and growling and various other sounds from the woman which are more akin to a wounded animal than a human being with the power of speech. Hopefully when that jacket is pulled off it doesn't take any skin with it, because that really ruins leather, and D'lei shouldn't lose a jacket for his efforts. "More alcohol, definitely," she grits out, glancing toward Rhodelia like the woman might be her savior. She's not considering the liquor for disinfecting purposes, of course, but these are unimportant details. She even reaches for Risali's hand, only to hesitate halfway there, her hand forming a fist in the air instead. "Is it bad?" she demands, half-glancing at her bloody stump of a hand, afraid to actually look at it head-on. It's definitely not good, and she might want to see a healer soonerthan later, but there probably won't be permanent damage. Unless, say, she's stupid and stubborn and refuses to get treatment. "LEIRITH THIS IS YOUR FAULT."

If it does take down the jacket, it won't be the first that D'lei has lost in the line of duty… and it probably won't be the last. But jackets are replaceable, while hands are… less so. So, the jacket's tossed aside, while the hand is inspected carefully, with his own hands near-but-not-touching as he moves his head for different angles. "So, here's the good news," he says, as his head lifts to look to Nessalyn's face instead of her hand. "Burn salve includes numbweed, and gauze is a lot softer than leather." Ray of sunshine, here. "Bad news is, you need both, and the next month is going to suck." There's a trace of sympathy in the half-wince, half-wry look, and then… "So, are we sending Risa for supplies, or to let the healers know we're coming?"

There's no offense when the offer of her hand is refused halfway through acceptances, Risali merely drops her hand back to her side and lets patient and… well, whatever you want to call Dash have some semblance of privacy by looking back to Rhodelia. OH NO. The awkward side-shuffle. Risali watches Rhodelia with something akin to sympathy, leaning down to pick up the bucket even and move to hand it back to the barmaid before she goes in to get her booze. "It's okay," she tells her, soft and around a smile that holds no humor but aims for reassurance. It's briefly in place, faltering as she turns back to focus her attention back on Nessalyn and D'lei when she hears her name. "But I don't recommend ever pouring alcohol on a burn." A HINT OF HUMOR? That much, at least, she knows, and she waits.

Rhodelia will take the bucket with a muttered thanks. "There's many reasons why I'm not a healer." Reason number one is probably because her idea of first aid is alcohol fixes everything. Luckily, she doesn't need to go back in to fetch more alcohol because she'd probably end up running out the back door and disappearing. There's a flask pulled out from her back pocket and passed over towards Nessa. "Vodka." In case she cared to know what she was about to consume. And there's definitely some wincing at the sight of the semi-burned hand. Reason number two why she's probably not a healer.

Nessalyn hates nothing in the world so well as THIS ENTIRE EXPERIENCE. Admittedly, the part where she spit fire was pretty great, but everything since that moment has been terrible. Tears of pain prick at her eyes, but she is absolutely not going to cry until she's safely back in her room where no one can see her. "It's not going to-" For once, she actually struggles over her words. "My hand is going to be okay, right? It's not going to stop- I'm an engineer, I need my hands." Reflexively, she tries to wiggle her fingers, which is a REALLY POOR DECISION. Thankfully, Rhodelia is there as her savior. "Thanks." Gruff, still, but she's going to take that flask and down as much as she can take in one go before she hands it back to the barmaid. "The longer we stand here, the more people start getting into my business. I can get there myself."

D'lei's gaze flits down to those unwisely-wiggled fingers, which… at least prove that they can make that mistake. Which is good, even if the experiential nature of it is terrible. "If you take care of it, yes." This is serious Dash. He is serious. "Maybe some scars, but no impairment." And really, that's what's important here. Aesthetics are for elegantly designed technology! "If the blisters break and it gets infected… that can get nasty. Gangrene nasty, if you're particularly unlucky." Did we mention how he's a ray of sunshine? Because he is. He nods at her decision to go to the healers herself, though, "I'll walk with. I'm headed that direction myself." Never mind that he didn't seem to be before he had a reason to play herd-dog and make sure Nessa actually ends up there. That is a minor detail that he will ignore as necessary.

For the (completely forgotten in my last pose) record, Leirith is of the opinion that: « IT IS ONLY A FLESH WOUND, MINION. NOW YOU LOOK BADASS. » No, really. If you are looking for an appropriate amount of sympathy, or chagrin, or apology, or anything other than cheer and compliments, you're having conversations with the wrong dragon. "It's okay. D'lei was search and rescue before I stuck him with Weyrleader. He can handle it. You should probably get back to your shift, though," comes gentle for Rhodelia, as Risali moves to retrieve D'lei's discarded jacket and folds it in half then over one arm, tucking it in against her stomach. "It was nice to meet you, though." Risali? Sheeeee is looking from D'lei, to Nessalyn, to Leirith and — "You'll be okay, Nessalyn. Just listen to the healers." It's half an apology, half a reassurance, half an ORDER, LADY. And then she's catching D'lei's elbow, mindful not to jar him or touch Ness as she leans in to press a kiss along his jaw and starts off ahead of the group — towards the offices, probably, to start on some paperwork.

"Right… my shift," Rhodelia nods and just clings to her mop bucket. The mop bucket is safety now that things aren't on fire and it's not flying through the air. "Good luck with the gangrene!" Rhody is probably less helpful than even Leirith aside from the whole flask sharing thing. She's not even taking it back when Nessa hands it back since that would involve getting closer to the smell of burnt flesh. "I'm going to go. To my shift." And probably to hurl her cookies at some point, but Rhody is outta here.

Good call, D'lei. Nessalyn will never admit that it's a good call, but she's also only offering a brief scowl in protest to his decision. "Fine." Grumble, grumble. She cradles her hand to her chest, holding it very stiffly in order to avoid any further finger-wiggling mistakes. She does turn her head to scowl up at Leirith — even if it's true, scars DO make you look badass and Ness is well-aware of this, this isn't a moment in which she can appreciate that in any measure. "Yeah, okay," is uttered in response to Risali, in a tone that's more dismissive than anything else. But she does want to keep her hand in fuctioning order, so in spite of that stubborn response, there's probably nothing to worry about. There's probably a moral in here somewhere about what laughing at the pain of others gets you, or maybe just the stupidity of making rash decisions, but Nessalyn doesn't care about any of that. She's going to get some numbweed on her hand, and then a few more drinks to numb the rest of her. LET'S GO.

Oh, good. No arguments! Just grumbles, which D'lei is just fine dealing with by ignoring. He waves to Risali and Rhodelia as they go their ways, then walks along with Nessalyn at whatever pace she likes… as long as it takes them to the infirmary. At least he doesn't try to make conversation along the way, just… makes sure she gets there without any new injuries. And then he too vanishes, because… maybe also paperwork. Whatever could be causing it? This is such a peaceful, comfortable place with no reckless behavior whatsoever. Nope. Everything is probably going to be mostly absolutely fine for the most part!

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