Monaco Bay Weyr - Lunar Shoals Pier
The Lunar Shoal Pier is built on exactly that, a long, heavily-shored pier built out into the ocean. The structure is long and narrow, with two stories - the bottom a bar in the far back and a social center towards the front, where the people of the Weyr can come and relax in comfort. The walls are all a richly dark redwood, from ceiling to floor, with multi-colored paper and silk lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Low-slung couches are set up around communal tables, and several gaming tables are surrounded only by cushions of rich, plush design. A closed off staircase leads to the upper floor, which is designed strictly for an adult audiences. Upstairs is another bar with particularly strong, homebrewed beverages, as well as a dance stage with various props and poles with which to dance upon. Sturdy furniture is set here, many carved drunkenly with folks names, and others yet slightly rude imagry. On the wall behind the bar, a pair of beat up old goggles sit, painted in awful, garish colors and decorated with all sorts of baubles. A bit of driftwood hangs above them, with the words 'Proddy Goggles' scratched with a bit of black charcoal.
Merius
This is a large man — tall and quite heavily-built. He almost looks like a stereotypical smithcrafter but no such badge graces his shoulder. He stands almost six-and-a-half feet high and has broad shoulders, a wide chest, and powerful arms. Very dark-brown hair is kept short though not especially closely-cropped, and tends to look somewhat windblown, the first hint that this man has spent his entire life by the sea. Dark, thick and straight brows rest over deep-brown, almond-shaped eyes, a small dark mole resting at the bottom corner of his right eye. An aquiline nose rests between his eyes and over a small mouth. Prominent cheekbones and a wide, perfectly-chiseled jaw complement the rest of his features to make up a rather handsome face. Though he is good-looking he does not look particularly approachable, his default expression tending toward a faint scowl — a pity, since when he does actually smile (rarely) he sports a rather becoming pair of dimples. He carries himself proudly — his body is large and powerful and he seems to be quite aware of that in all of his movements.
He wears a breezy white tunic that is open at the neck, with half-sleeves and belted at his waist. The shirt is worn untucked over a pair of black roughspun pants that are tucked into a pair of old wherhide boots that must have once been black but are so worn and well-loved that they now appear to be a dark gray in color. On his shoulder is a white badge adorned with a sea-blue fish that denotes him as a member of the Sea Craft. He appears to be 21 Turns, 9 months, and 14 days old.
Briari
Tall, slim and athletic, Briari is the striking image of her mother, Saisri. A mop of lightly curled blonde hair trails down to her shoulders to flatter her face. Blue eyes peer out from behind the veil of blonde bangs that drip into her face. She has a sprinter's body, one built with toned legs and arms which has seen quite a fair share of physical activity or labor.
The young woman tends to wear sundresses and light weighted tunics to match her lifestyle in Monaco Bay where the temperatures are quite a bit higher. For everyday travel she will wear sandals, for more long term movement she would wear boots for her pant legs to be tucked into. She is a fan of bright and shiny jewelry made of glass and other pieces of metal and wears earrings and bangles about her wrists of different colors.
It is a wild night of music, dancing and drinking at the Lunar Shoals tonight. The band of Harpers are playing their hearts out in a playful Monaco styled tune of quick tropical beats. Briari is out in the crowd, twirling and dancing up a storm with a wide smile upon her face. She does not have a set partner at the moment, more or less taking the company of anyone who cares to match her well placed moves. Tonight she is wearing a blue dress that cuts below the knees and a simple modest shirt beneath it. Her heavy boots clonk along the floorboards beneath her.
The door to the docks opens and in walks Merius with heavy steps. He ducks under the doorway, apparently already having learned from his brief time at Monaco that doing otherwise will result in unnecessary bumps to the head. Once inside the tavern he glances about with wide eyes. All the dancing and frivolity is overwhelming, but the need for booze after a long day of ship-building is greater than his apparent need to avoid crowds. He walks swiftly to the bar but with his size he can't help but make a bit of a scene. "Excuse me," is grumbled in a low voice at a few of the dancers as he tries to get past them.
Throwing her hands up over her head, Briari's wrists cross over one another as she bounces from one hip to the next side to side. When the crowd parts for the large man, her bright blue eyes open a bit to catch sight of him coming towards her, more or less towards the bar. Reaching out, she snags him by the hand to surprise him, giving him a cat like grin as she tugs him closer. "Hey!" She calls over the music. "Dance with me, Merry."
Merius is certainly surprised by being snagged. He is so surprised that he actually emits a startled "Wha — " He stops and glances down at the harper with wide eyes. "Dance?" He sounds utterly perplexed by the very concept. "Briari, I don't dance." He insists — not unkindly, just incredulously. He nods his head toward the bar. "I drink, though. I can drink, definitely." That would be necessary before dancing could commence, anyway.
"How come every good-looking guy I run across these days insist they don't dance? It's not that hard. You just sway, maybe even stomp your feet now and then to the beat." Snagging his other hand, Briari laughs as she sways herself left to right, giving a playful tap-tap-tap of her feet. "I can drink also, and I may even join you for one if you try and dance to one song."
"Good-looking?" Merius goes ahead and takes the bait. He rubs his chin thoughtfully with his free hand before that one, too, is snagged. "I doubt anyone around wants me stomping." He lifts one sizable foot and gives it a skeptical look. "As long as it ends in drinks," he says slowly, adding a quick "Strong ones." Lips purse in a thoughtful frown as he tries to follow along with Briari's foot tapping. He gives that up without even attempting it. Instead he begins to sway from side to side with a comical lack of rhythm. "This doesn't seem right."
It would appear that Merius is not the only two-left footed man in the building, but Briari has only eyes for one at the moment. "Well, if you aren't used to it, it won't seem right. Practice makes perfect." Letting go of his hands, hers find their way to his hips as she gives a nod of her head. "Trust me, loosen up and let me guide you. You have to feel the beat in the air and move to it." Left. Right. Left. Right. She helps him sway, slowly at first, then building the rhythm as she giggles. "My favorite drink is the anvil strike. What's yours?"
Dark eyes narrow as Merius turns his suspicious gaze on the harper. "Let you guide me?" His thoughtful frown turns vaguely grumpy. "I thought the man was supposed to lead." He'll need several more lessons before that becomes possible, probably. Eventually, with Briari's help (read: her physically moving him to the actual beat) Merry manages to find the rhythm. Or at least something approximating the rhythm of the song currently being played. "Every drink is my favorite drink," he answers gruffly, looking down at his feet, frowning. "I've never had an anvil strike."
"It's my father's ale. Will put hair on your chest." Briari grins up at him as she slides her hands back down to his, then guides them to her own hips. Her hands once more glide upwards, this time about his shoulders since he is too tall. "Take the lead then." She says as she rocks playfully. "It's a Monaco born drink, he won a contest about twenty years ago after brewing it and it has become a staple here. You should try it! It can knock the younger guys out real quick."
"Take the lead?" That will teach Merius to have less-than-progressive notions of gender. "Ummmm…" He readjusts his grip on the harper and begins to sway again — completely arhythmically. He is expending a really depressing amount of concentration on doing something very poorly. The change in topics is a relief. "I'd like to try that ale." At Briari's last comment one corner of Merry's mouth twitches upward in amusement. "That sounds like a challenge to me." He stops his feeble swaying and nods toward the bar, "Want to see if I can hold my anvil strike?"
Despite the fact he is probably in the top three worst dancers she has ever partnered with, Briari is grinning. "Sure, I'm sure you can show me a few moves of your own at the bar. Proper mug handling techniques." She teases as she wigglse out of his grasp. "Thank you for the dance! It was fun. It should always be fun, even if it's not always graceful. I'm going to get myself a Sunset Beach. Something fruity."
Merius heaves an exaggerated sigh. One of relief, most likely. One dark eyebrow twitches up as he flashes an amused half-grin at Briari. "'Not graceful' is being kind. But I told you I don't dance." He makes his way over to the bar and settles himself heavily at a seat. "Drinking I can definitelly do." He gestures at the empty seat beside him. As a bartender ambles over Merry leans toward Briari and says in undertones, "You can't emasculate me on the dance floor and make me ask a bartender for 'something fruity.'" There is a slight undercurrent of desperation mixed in with the humor in his voice.
Leaning forward, Briari gives him an impish smile. "Don't worry, I'll order my own and pretend I don't know you." Despite the fact everyone probably seen the seafairing giant dancing with the resident popstar. Bumping her shoulder against his, she grins. "Two anvil strikes!" She calls over to the tender, flashing him a V sign with her fingers. ".. and one Sunset Beach for my friend here!" Now she is laughing as her eyes widen, glancing up at the large man.
Merius manages to simultaneously growl and heave a beleagured sigh at the same time. He drops his face into his hands, rubbing his temples as if feigning a terrible headache. Merry takes his revenge quickly, though. As soon as the bartender arrives with the drinks he perks back up and snatches both of the ales — one for each hand. He downs first one, then the other at a breakneck pace. Only manly drinks for this seacrafter. He turns back to Briari, fully prepared to go 'ha ha!' but then he makes a face and brings a hand back up to his head. No need to feign this headache. The anvil of his head is being thoroughly struck.
Taking the Sunset Beach, Briari watches with an impressed look on her face as she takes a sip from her fruity drink. One hand rises upwards, ticking fingers in a count down. Three… Two…. One… and boom goes the dynamite. As his hand goes to his head, she giggles as she motions to the tender for a bowl of peanuts and a water. "Well, I have to admit, my father would love you. You didn't throw up, start crying, or black out. My dad can get four down before he is finding himself naked and singing on the bar top whipping his pants over his head like a drunk wherry."
A groan escapes the seacrafter's lips — a very manly and not at all pathetic one, at that. Merius lifts his eyes to the bartender as he places a glass of water on the bar in front of him. He snatches the glass up quickly and begins taking rapid sips. Dark eyes flicker over to Briari, taking in her apparent amusement. He waves an imaginary white flag in her direction. Surrender! "A drunk wherry?" He gives a resigned chuckle at the mental image. "Can't give that stuff to an actual wherry without killing it." Attentions return briefly to the bartender. "Another Sunset Beach," is requested in a whisper-quiet undertone.
"You're going to be awesome to hang out with." Briari admits to him with another giggle once he orders another Sunset, then leans in against his shoulder. She may as well give the tavern something to look at. He earned it. The Harper draws her bright yellow drink to her and takes another small sip, then stirs the pink contents at the bottom together. "So, Merius, besides building ships and drinking the most manliest drinks on Pern, what else are you into?"
A bright yellow glass is placed before Merius on the bar. Before Merry can grab the glass the bartender places a small paper umbrella on top of it. "Very funny." Is Merry's gruff reply. He raises the glass to his lips and takes a delicate sip… …which he very nearly chokes on as the Briari leans against him. His cheeks flush furiously at that. Sign number one that those earlier drinks have already made their way up to his head. He clears his throat before answering simply, "I sail." Sign number two that he is gradually losing his grip on sobriety: he raises a shaky hand up to the harper's shoulder and rests it there. …For just a second, before giving her shoulder an awkward pat and moving his hand away. Smooth.
"I surf." Briari gives a grin as she inches in as his arm lifts upwards, expecting it to be draped across her shoulders. When it doesn't, she chuckles. "I have a board back at my place if you want to see it sometime. Bright blue and yellow. Won it in a card game. Took me awhile to learn how to use it but I can at least stand up now for almost a full minute before the waves knock me over." Once she finishes the drink, she motions to the tender to get herself an Anvil, which is poured and slid over to her. Instead of knocking it back like a champ, she takes slow, measured slurps.
Despite the fact that they are no longer on the dance floor, Merry begins to sway slightly, back and forth. "Surfing?" He looks a bit like he's trying to surf right now, albeit on his barstool rather than a board. He takes a long pull on his drink before clumsily replacing the glass on the bar. "I'm no good at surfing," he admits in a drawl that is comically interrupted by a hiccup. "Or dancing." He finishes his bright yellow drink and hiccups again. "Used'ta be good a'drinking." He turns to smirk over at Briari, bringing his hand up to her again. After a few misses he finally manages to make contact with her shoulder, and this time he leaves it there.
"Hey, are you doing alright? You're a big guy and all but you look like an Auntie in her favorite rocking chair." Briari slides an arm around him as well to try and steady him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt a bit. "Let's slow it down some, sip on some water and get some nuts in you. I don't want you puking on my nice new blue dress. This dress here is the moneymaker after all."
Merius nods… …for a bit too long. "'M fine, fine." He leans an elbow on the bar and rests his chin on his fist and actually…smiles. "Dress is safe. It'll keep looking good. He nods again, emphatically, the hand he is resting his chin on slowly creeping closer and closer to the bar. All at once his head and arm drop, and before you know it his dark eyes are closed and he is making a pillow of the bar as he begins to snore quietly — with better rhythm than he ever had on the dancefloor.
Finding the large man suddenly out snoring upon the tabletop, Briari's eyes widen a bit, followed by a laugh. Though of course that other large arm of his is still draped across her shoulders. Sliding herself out from under his arm, she takes it and gently places it on the bar as well. Finishing her drink, she takes a napkin and scribbles a note down for him and slips it into his hand. With that, she is back out to the dance floor!