More Men Making Babies

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 is night! Because night is when people are generally free of duties and ready to have a good time. Course, that can happen at any point in the day really, depending on how much people care for duties. In any case, among those in the tavern is a rather unfamiliar face to those at Xanadu…perhaps because she's visiting. Suyi has been here for the better part of the day to put on a joint performance with one of her harper friends but now that's mostly done. She's still got a few sets to go, but right now…break time! So of course this means she's settled into a chair and has a glass in bourbon in hand (alcohol does /great/ for your voice). Not really, but whatever, she likes it! Given the performance she's a /little/ more dressed up than usual, but not by much. Shorts have been traded for black and white striped pants and her usual t-shirts switched for a tank top that's been semi-cropped. Fashion~!

Enter Nessalyn, carrying a shoe. It doesn't seem to be HER shoe, since she's wearing two on her feet, but nevertheless she has a worn boot in her grip as she makes her way into the tavern. She elbows her way to a seat near to Suyi — oh, sorry, did someone else want that seat? TOO BAD — and drops the boot down on the tabletop with a loud smack. And now her seat's reserved. She leaves the shoe to claim her place as she moves to grab the bartender's attention, signaling with a sharp whistle when he doesn't immediately pay attention to her.

YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE IT IS? Starting to storm. BECAUSE FIGHT ME, THAT'S WHY. So maybe it's a precursor of ominous things to come, but when Ila'den shoulders open the door to the taverns, a flash of lightning deigns to flicker and fragment across the sky, filling the world below with the furious howl of her rage: a loud, eerie BOOM that says maybe the storm is getting closer than what might be comfortable for those outside. The clouds open up, and the rain comes, and so Ila'den is once again wet and looking every bit a very drowned, very unruly wolf. See, Nessa might be fashionable, but Ila'den is the same as he ever is: dressed head to toe in riding leathers, not bothering with the reiteration of a knot because the clothing alone should speak to his profession even if it does not denote an origin or a true occupation. It's the unruly hair, taunting gravity at defiant angles and the eyepatch that probably put him more along the lines of predator than Normal Human Being That You Can Approach and Ila'den likes it that way. (Also, his hair just does that no matter what and it's kind of grisly under that eyepatch so SHUT UP AND TAKE IT.) But ahhh, there is FAMILIARITY IN THESE HERE TAVERNS. Yes, there is a Suyi, the one who Ila'den doesn't really know, but definitely knows — he knows her because she didn't back down, and he knows her because - "Oh everyone knows the weyrleader." YEP. ILA SEES YOU WITH HIS ONE EYE, VILLAIN. HE SEES YOU AND YOUR VILLAIN MOUSTACHE, and that raspy, husky, bourbon voice comes pitched low with that awful song that still makes R'hyn RUN FOR THE HILLS (even if he totally does hum it to himself ALL OF THE TIME because HAVE YOU MET HIS WEYRMATES?). And yes, Ila'den is moving towards Suyi, is tapping fingers on the bar to order two drinks and passing one towards the already-bourbon-possessing bluerider because he probably meant to do this a very long time ago. "Are you here to write ballads about Xanadu's Weyrleader now? Risali will love that." WOLFISH SMILES. HUSKY, SHORT-LIVED LAUGHTER. Murder him. ANNND I AM TOO LAZY TO WRITE ALL OF THIS, so cue Nessalyn. Ila'den's brow rises, those lips quirk at the corners for VIOLENT, SHOE SEAT-CLAIMING, but he doesn't say anything. He just… takes a swig of his drink and watches because THERE WERE CLEARLY TWO SEATS NESS. OKAY.

Suyi isn't one to keep quiet when she's curious and there's a significant eyebrow raise when that boot is just /dropped/ on the counter. "I hope that's new because I'd rather not smell someone's feet….though that raises the question. But I gotta ask, /why/?" She's eyeing that boot critically but then enters The Big Bad (Wet) Wolf. Dark brown eyes immediately shift towards the door and the familiar rider that is gracing(?) the door way with his presence. She'll let out a low whistle for nature's theatrics because honestly that timing couldn't be better and the bluerider will appreciate it. She'll appreciate that second glass being slide towards her at least as much if not more. All too fast that first glass of alcohol is finished and long fingers curl around the second. She'll raise it in Ila'den's direction, a smile of thanks on her lips before she draws from it. It's only after alllll this that she seems to finally answer his question. "I have to finish Z'tan and his tale of two golds first, but maybe that's next on the list." She pauses slightly, head tilting to one side before there's a question in return, "And you? Here to drink and scare the drunken masses?" Because that's the only explanation right?? Not really. But she's gonna say it could be a reason!

Nessalyn secures her drink after what appears to be a minor altercation with the bartender which doesn't QUITE result in audibly raised voices, but the body language is all tension and scowls. He probably spits in her drink, which may be why she's eyeing it with such suspicion as she makes her way back to the table. Where there's now another person. She takes this moment to eye up both Suyi and Ila'den, then appropros of nothing asks, "So are you the guy with an eyepatch who impregnates other men?" Welcome to Ila's new reputation. She tugs at one of the laces on the boot, nearly causing the thing to topple over. Deft fingers catch the lip of the shoe as she peers inside contemplatively. "It's not new. I don't even know whose it is." She's just tossing a used boot of indeterminate origins on the counter, nbd. "There might be something living in there." A shrug, and then the woman glances toward the outside, where the storm makes a big fuss over nothing, her features nothing but scorn. "I guess I have no choice but to stay until I'm wasted, now."

Ila'den raises his glass back in salute, taking another drink before leaning sideways on the table, watching Nessalyn's dispute with He Who Pours drinks even while he listens to Suyi. It's her question about why he's here that has that grey eye focusing back on her, that has him smiling a smile that shows too many teeth and looks less friendly than it does a threat. But the bronzerider is laughing again - low, husky, not at all denying that maybe that is exactly why he's here. "R'hyn and Citayla ruined my reputation with the Half Moon masses. It was time to move on somewhere less suspecting and more vulnerable." Rude. But then there's Nessalyn, the woman whose approach earns Ila'den's attention back and then… and then he's laughing. Yes, it's honest laughter, not those rumbles of sound from his chest, but honest-to-Faranth throw his head back a laugh (which might be more alarming because everything about Ila'den screams VILLAIN even in his less broody moments, like this one). That smile remains long after the laughter's gone, the glass being raised again even if he doesn't drink from it, but instead sets it down and pushes it towards Nessalyn. MAYBE HE SUSPECTS THE BARTENDER SPIT IN HER DRINK TOO. And for as awful a human as he is, there is something SOMEWHAT GENTLEMANLY IN THERE. Kind of. Sort of. He's just alright, you guys. "Ah, so you've discussed me," comes on those rough, husky tones, his rasp curling with a distant hint of accent because he is amused. "Though I try to keep it to just the one man." A beat. "Actually, he's probably the only human alive willing to let me impregnate them, so you work with what you get, little bird." YEP. HE JUST INSULTED HIMSELF AND DID IT ON DRY TONES. He even gestures at his face in case you missed that it's because he's ugly. But then he's looking at the possibly-life-harboring-boot and drumming his fingers on the table. "It won't be alive for much longer if you keep doing that," he observes. But he makes NO MOVES TO LOOK INSIDE or to stop her. Rude.

Suyi can't help it, she nearly chokes when Nessalyn mentions Ila'den's reputation. Thankfully none of that precious alcohol is lost. Amusement is shown on her features, unabashed, though that soon turns to something quite different when Nessalyn starts looking into the boot. "Are you planning on keeping it?" The harper wrinkles her nose slightly at the boot and the prospect that something might actually be living in there. "Both the boot and whatever might be in it…" There's a glance upwards at this point, dark eyes catching that predatory grin on Ila'den's face, though the bluerider certainly doesn't flinch from it. "What's that they say? Wild canines have to occasionally shift their hunting grounds every few turns to let the fresh meat build up again." She might be making this up, or maybe she read it in some random beast craft book she was forced to peruse at some point. In any case, the /logic/ behind it seems to fit well in her mind when it comes to Ila'den.

"Well, there were some very earnest questions from a confused little girl." Or Taeli — it's approximately the same thing. "I had to answer her. I told her it was absolutely true, and that your…" Nessalyn straight up gestures to Ila'den's crotch, "opens up to accept your partner. Or vice versa. So run with that if you see her again." She smirks over the rim of her glass, but that expression falters for a moment when Ila'den offers her a replacement. "I don't-" She begins, eyeing the boot, before she reaches out to snatch up the glass before he can take it back. Here, have her spit-in offering in return? There's no thank you forthcoming, just a brief nod before she begins tugging lightly at the lace again. "Maybe. Sort of depends what it is, doesn't it?" Like if it's an eensie weensie boot-sized tunnelsnake, maybe not. OR MAYBE THAT WOULD BE ADORABLE. "I'll find something to do with the boot. Like hit people with it."

WILD CANINES, HUH. Ila'den laughs again, though he doesn't deny it. In fact he takes Nessa's drink as it's pushed over to him, eyes it for a moment, and then shifts to place it on a serving tray as one of the people doling out drinks goes by. There's a look spared the bronzerider, but Ila'den just ignores it because he's super rude and anyway his attention is focused on the two women he just party-crashed. "You have to let the herdbeasts breed, little bird. I have a healthy appetite after all." Whatever that means. "It sounds like your Z'tan does too. A tale of two golds?" A raise of brows, not quite a question seeking clarification so much as a statement (and it's not like he has any room to talk because LOOK AT HIS LIFE, LOOK AT HIS CHOICES). But Ila'den's attention is on Nessalyn again, her words earning another quirk of lips, another husky rasp of laughter that goes as quickly as it has come and doesn't seem in the least repentant for the potential ruination of INNOCENT SOULS. "Better yet: I'll offer to show her." Because Ila'den is a horrible, wicked man and a liar, but SHUT UP. As for the boot, well… Ila'den takes it in, tilts his head as if trying to get a better look, and then IS RUDELY INTERRUPTED by the appearance of one UNRULY WEYRWOMAN. Look at Risali go, all parts drenched, completely a drowned rat because hair is clinging to shoulders and face and clothes and arms and - "Dad. You left me ALONE WITH HIM?" Is Risali reaching pitchy tones? DON'T BE ALARMED. Ila'den is laughing already, getting to his feet as he shrugs out of his jacket to reveal - GASP - a long-sleeved tunic underneath. How does this man survive? "Excuse me, ladies," Ila'den offers, and he moves to Risali who GLARES ACCUSINGLY, but accepts the too-big jacket as it comes over her shoulders, curling up in it even as Ila's hands come down on Risa's shoulders and he guides her towards the exit. He leans down to say something, and it earns him a shriek of, "DAD!" before Risa punches him. And that's it. That's how they exist. With Risali looking ready to commit murder and Ila'den laughing at her for it.

Suyi, you thought you were done choking? Nope. This is gonna happen /again/, and possibly many more times tonight given the current company. "I guess so, though is that something we really need to find out?" Because random stranger's shoes are kind of gross. "Where'd you pick it up from anyhow?" Still, her curiosity is piqued. "Somehow I don't think there'll be any difficulty repopulating." The bluerider smirks slightly, taking a sup of her drink. "Oh yes, two golds." It's unclear if the harper is going to say anything more, but suddenly there is a /Weyrwoman/ and yelling and shrieking and the bluerider watches with her head tilted to the side yet again. There's some amusement in her features, but with them disappearing for a bit her attention turns back to Nessalyn. "Suyi, from Half Moon for the record. And…." She's about to introduce her life mate only he is going to introduce himself to Nessalyn. Her nice thoughts? They are quite /suddenly/ bombarded with the image of some grenade like object /exploding/ into a million tiny multicolored dustballs with google-eyes. « Zychaelth's HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA ». Said blue is outside /somewhere/ doing Faranth knows what in the rain.

Ila'den finally gets a laugh out of Nessalyn when he suggests showing poor Taeli his bits at work. "Please do. I'll pay, seriously." She's already rifling in pockets as though to pull out what she deems to be the appropriate fee. How much does traumatizing an innocent hunter cost these days? "Wait, am I being called little bird?" She glances to Suyi for confirmation, because surely that wasn't directed toward her. Before she can voice any further objections to it, Risali is here (the trauma flashbacks are real, guys) and Nessalyn suddenly snatches the boot to her chest like the goldrider might steal it. "DAD?" yes, she's busy defending her pilfered footwear, but that doesn't mean she misses the very important news that, "He's Risali's dad?" WHAT JUST HAPPENED. Still looking slightly stunned, she turns her gaze back to Suyi, staring at the other woman blankly for a moment before any attempts at conversation seem to register. "Oh, I stole it off someone's foot." She takes a sip of her drink, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that Risali didn't simply spring from her nightmares into the real world. "Nessalyn, enginee-" W. T. F. "Is your Zychaelth related to Leirith, by chance?"

"I think he's called both of us that at one point this evening?" Suyi isn't /quite/ sure about it, but she /thinks/ so? There's a curious look to Nessalyn as she watches the two depart. "Is it that surprising? I haven't met the Weyrwoman but I mean…they definitely /seem/ like father and daughter?" Because why else would they be saying those things! "Well met Nessa and…no, at least not directly? He just likes to surprise people." In many ways. To be fair he /has/ improved and matured somewhat since he was little but Zych will always be Zych and there is a reason that a pile of left shoes is on the ledge of their weyr. Which honestly means Suyi /should/ be used to the idea of random boots but maybe it's also why she's kind of wary of random shoes. « Is it a left boot? Because I have a need for left boots and would like to add it to my collection. »

"Weird," is Nessalyn's assessment of that, her nose wrinkling in distaste. No one calls her little! Or a bird. Either one, really. "I don't know, I never really considered what Risali's parents would be like. I just sort of assumed she didn't have any." A shrug, as though assuming someone doesn't have parents is totally normal. She takes another sip of her spit-free drink, already eyeing up the selection behind the bar in preparation for her next order. She's keeping a particularly close eye on that bartender with whom she almost had an altercation, waiting for his coworker to swing by so she can snag him instead. "Oh. She just laughs a lot. Loudly." And uninvited. Still, Zychaelth isn't trying to do her head in with pounding beats, so he's already preferable. "My parents' dragons have never been quite so…" She just waves her hand, like that explains it. "If he wants the boot, he can have it. Just warn him that something deadly and dangerous is living inside. I'll just steal another one."

"The secret of Xanadu's Weyrwoman…she spawned from the ground." Suyi chuckles at that and takes another sip of her drink. "Well, Zych /does/ do that…mostly at other people's misery." This /is/ the blue that unceremoniously dumped Vykrov in the water after kidnapping him back at Half Moon. "Really, don't need encourage hi—" Yeah, too late. « Deadly? /Dangerous/? Bring it to me, I'll do away with it at once! » The following images being sent over? Dozens of mini-Zychaelth's climbing into a giant shoe while armed with pitchforks. « HAHAHAH, yes, I will do away with it quickly. » Because this big bad dragon is /more/ than enough of a match for whatever poor creature might actually be calling the shoe it's home. "Why'd you steal it anyways?"

"I mean, that was my assumption. Just crawled out of the earth." She casts another glance toward the door, as if half expecting said Weyrwoman to reappear. There's a wariness about that glance, and she tugs the boot a bit closer to herself in spite of her promises to give it away. "What else are you going to laugh at, besides the misery of others?" She glances down into the boot, almost protective. What poor, defenseless creature is about to meet the wrong end of a blue? "He can't kill it, it's very rare. It has to be preserved." There's about a 95% chance Nessalyn is making all of this up, but her expression is so earnestly serious. The question is met with a shrug, her arm still around that boot as she goes for another drink. "I was there, it was there. I need it for a project."

"I guess it wouldn't be the most far-fetched thing given the stories I've heard." Suyi chuckles softly and takes another sip of her drink. "Zych will laugh at most things to be honest." Though now the blue's interest is quite piqued. « Rare? That's no matter if it is dangerous. Deadly and dangerous must be /destroyed/ otherwise it will kill mine. » Because who knows, maybe it's some special little creature that will instantaneously kill Suyi. Sounds legit, right? "A…project?" Again, intrigued but it doesn't sound like she's going to press the matter very much. "In that case, you can keep it, we probably don't need it." They /definitely/ don't!

"She made me deliver her baby after we set fire to Monaco." Nessalyn intones, utterly serious. And it's not that it's a lie, per se, but there are definitely some shades of grey to that story which aren't being told. "Your Zych seems to think you need it." But before a decision on the fate of the boot can be made either way, thunder crashes again outside, timed particularly well with the door slamming open. A grizzled man who seems already well into his drinks and in roughly as good of condition as the old boot comes stumbling in with one foot bare. "I saw 'er!" He announces, trying to raise his voice above the sound of chatter inside the tavern. "She took my-" Nessalyn's eyes go wide, and she promptly shoves the boot in Suyi's direction. SHE'S NOT TOUCHING IT, IT WASN'T HER. The rest of her drink is quickly downed, and the petite woman uses the advantage of her height to duck behind someone taller. The man comes charging in Suyi's direction, but the culprit has vanished, leaving only the boot behind. Seconds later, the brunette pops up on a chair by the door. "MISSED ME," she hollers. Then with a tip of her head in a long-distance farewell to poor Suyi, she escapes out the door, leaving the bluerider to settle up with the angry man.

There are /many/ things happening right now. Suyi fully intends to comment on Nessa delivering the Weyrwoman's baby but she's quite abruptly interrupted by the very angry man. "Shit…." Yeah there is a BOOT in her hands now and Nessa just /threw/ it there and left her to deal with this grizzly looking man. Not that Suyi looks /that/ concerned. She stands up, boot held out as far away as it can be from her. "Yours?" Is that a large blue head dropping into the doorway as Nessa disappears? Oh yes, it most definitely is, and he's letting out a loud rumble. "I'll fight you for it." Dude, she is a /weakling/ but Zych isn't and she's going to slip away to his side. Does she have a set to finish? Yes! And she will be eventually. But she's /keeping/ the boot, mostly so she can throw it back at /Nessa/ at some inopportune time in the future!

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