Summer - Month 13 of Turn 2716
Monaco Bay Weyr - Lunar Shoals Pier
The Lunar Shoal Pier stretches past the docks as a long structure with two stories. Rather than a traditional door, the building boasts two sliding panels that are pulled upwards when the establishment is open for business. Sturdy panels of dark redwood soar upwards, forming the walls from which paper lanterns hang. The first floor seems to be divided into several areas, each for slightly different sort of entertainment. Immediately to the left of the entrance are two pool tables, several dart boards, and a handful of designated areas for drinking and card games. To the right is a wide expanse housing only the flash of multi-colored lights and the dancing feet of patrons.
The lighting dims as one ventures farther inwards, lending a more relaxing atmosphere to this area of the building. A spiral staircase is settled in far left corner, leading to a terrace that overlooks the first story. Tables and chairs are set up here, as well as a small snack kitchen from which workers constantly seem to be rushing back and forth. Lest safety become an issue, black railings keep the more inebriated patrons from a long tumble downwards. Taking up the remaining length of the back wall, is the establishment's most important feature - the bar. Multiple shelves are lined with bottles upon bottles of alcohol, leaving no question as to how well Lunar Shoal is stocked. Several stools are available for those who prefer to be closer to their drinks, however couches and low slung tables are also littered around the area for those seeking a more comfortable seat.
And now, perhaps the most remarkable feature….instead of the drab wooden planks that line the dock, the floor of the Lunar Shoal Pier is made of pure glass. The thick panes provide a clear view of the churning waters below, allowing customers an unimpeded view of frothy waves and the occasional dolphin. The bright blue of the ocean is reflected upwards, casting a shimmering glow onto the ceiling from which the establishment's second eccentricity hangs.
The skeleton of a massive fish is suspended in mid-air, it's form reaching at least half the length of Pern's largest green. It's maw hangs open to display a fearsome set of sharp teeth, some several feet tall. Another bony frame, a smaller fish with one deformed fin, hovers in the air. It's positioned as if it were attempting to flee the predatory creature…but perhaps not fast enough.
It's afternoon in Monaco Bay Weyr, and while the Lunar Shoals Pier might not be as crowded and hoppin' as it will be when the sun starts to set, there are definitely patrons taking advantage of food, drinks, and fun times to be found out on the water. Or… hovering over it, as the case may be. Because that glass floor man, it's definitely a feature. One that has caught S'van's attention and halted him in the doorway, as though wary of stepping foot onto the smooth, transparent surface. How is it that, two months into his stay at Monaco (injury aside) he has YET to walk into this establishment? Regardless, he's here, glancing between floor and bar patrons, and back to the floor. "Huh."
"You know, it's only ever broken once. We had a couple of people fall in, but no one died….I think." Reya's words precede her arrival, though she's probably joking. Hopefully joking. The small Weyrwoman grins as she slips past S'van and spreads her arms in a grand gesture. "Welcome to Lunar Shoals, where the rabble go to…rabbelize. It's a word, don't question it!" There woman shoots a grin towards the Weyrsecond before she's immediately heading to the back towards the bar. Her order? Something of the rather fruity variety. It's a very pretty bright blue color and not entirely natural looking, but it tastes /good/. Her current attire is a rather flowy shirt and a pair of shorts that have seen far better days. Seems Fuerioth only won half the battle this morning.
There's something horribly wrong when you're bored of free time. Between the lack of weyrlings to teach and the issue with being grounded, Quinn is finding herself seated within the Pier at one of her usual tables that she would frequent when amongst her wingmates from Flame. Only today, the woman is alone and flipping through a small book in front of her with a dull expression. Curled up in front of her book is a small bronze firelizard, snoozing away happily whilst the rider wastes the hours away. She's accustomed to ignoring those who enter since the place is so popular, but Reya's voice always earns a moment of attention, at the least! Lifting her gaze, Quinn brushes back the cropped blonde hair away from her vision and raises a hand to the weyrwoman in greeting. "Ma'am." She calls out, before noting that the recently familiar face of S'van was close by. "Sir." She adds afterwards.
"S'that right?" offers S'van, glancing up from the see-through floor to the sauntering Weyrwoman, a half-smirk already in place. "Of course, the significance of it only breaking the once depends on how long it's been in place at all." Longevity, you know? It's important. But as she scoots past and across the glass with apparent confidence, S'van follows right along. His strides are long, self-assured and unhurried. Casual. Speaking nothing to the potential apprehension he might feel at walking over such an unusual floor. An amused sound for the grand welcome, noting that it "Looks pretty quiet at the moment," with an arched eyebrow as though to wonder where those rabble-ers might have gone. The 'sir' of greeting is briefly ignored, before he seems to realize it was meant for HIM. Then, there's a rueful sort of look for Quinn and a quick, "Just S'van today," he notes. "This is hardly a formal setting," and he's definitely not dressed formally, having left the leathers at home in favor of looser, more tropical-friendly attire. "How are you, Quinn?" asked with genuine curiosity, eyeballing the firelizard on the table briefly before moving back to the pale-haired woman. "That," he notes, pointing at Reya's drink, "looks dangerous."
"How many times have we discussed the term ma'am now? It makes me feel /old/ and it's all stuffy. Save that for Ali, or Jaz…I wonder how she'd react to that." Reya chuckles a bit before jutting her chin over toward's Quinn's reading, "For fun….or something like battle tactics." The Weyrwoman leans against the bar, drink in hand and stirring it lightly. "The floors been around a few turns, we put it in not too long after the slide. May need to start another round of upgrades around here soon." And is that a flash of pure evil in her eyes? NO. It is not, Reya is a good(fsh) person. Let's just call it excitement. "They'll start filtering in within the next few hours. Half of the regulars are still probably asleep." A laugh escapes the woman's lips before she's quieting to take a sip from her concoction. "What this? I can assure you that it is, I'd offer you a taste but…." Well he doesn't drink! "So more for me." There's a brief grin accompanied by a wink.
Quinn is hardly seen out of her riding uniform and today is no exception. Even if she's off-duty, there's a certain inner desire for Quinn to just appear smartly-dressed at all times. At least, in her mind, she'll appear a proud and shining example of Monaco's finest. With a nod she returns to her book, idly flicking over a page with one hand and reaching out to lightly caress the oily-coloured flit resting beside her. "Jaz acts pretty much the same as you." Quinn responds, once more tearing her eyes away from the page to look at the drink S'van had commented upon. "What is it?" She asks curiously, easing around in her seat to sit facing the bar instead. She would stand but.. She's not really feeling it right now. Maybe later.
"I'll be gone by then," says S'van, of the time when the rabble-rousers will accumulate. There's a grin to go with the words, a laid-back air to the newly knotted Weyrsecond that defies the formality displayed by Quinn's smartly-dressed and proper attire. He's clearly on a break of sorts, having an off-duty jaunt down to the bar, for an undefined purpose. "Jaz?" asked curiously, because maybe he hasn't run into the newest Weyrwoman just yet. Or maybe he just doesn't want to leap to conclusions. Dangerous blue drinks get a shake of his head, a quick but cheerful, "Yeah, no thank you," for the sorta-but-not offer to take a sip. "Even when I did drink," because he did, once upon a time, "It's definitely was never blue." So /definitely/ more for her. And so he just stands, in comfortable conversation distance to the women, grey eyes skimming across the area with curiosity. His gaze lands on the pool tables for a bit longer than the other 'attractions', though he's soon enough moving on. "Half Moon had some curious drinks, too," noted of his former home.
"I think it's an affliction for all Monaco Weyrwoman…a lot of Pern's Weyrwomen actually I think. Then again, I never go to those meetings so…." There are very good reasons why Reya doesn't go to those meetings. "This? A lot of alcohol, a little juice, and I don't know what makes it blue but it's pretty." The rider takes another sip of her drink before settling on a bar stool. "So why're you here anyways? Heard you've been grounded for a /while/…If this is some sort of punishment you had to have killed someone." In case it hasn't been clear, this lady has no filter, it's a terribly bad habit. Course, this is /after/ Fuerioth has helped her improve somewhat. "Yeah? I swear I have to visit, sounds like there's a lot of fun to be had." Though curiosity is getting the better of her, "What kinds of drinks?"
Quinn isn't going to hazard a guess at the blue either. She's no expert on drinking herself, but she can appreciate a pretty thing when she sees it. Speaking of juice, however.. That's enough to eventually coax Quinn out of her seat and towards the bar, sword rattling away at her side as it always does. Thankfully, no blood stains on it! "Punishment is one word for it." Quinn muses as she waves over the bartender and waits for him to finish up the task he's currently performing. "Kith's last flight had an.. Unexpected outcome." The greenrider glances around as she speaks, as if checking that the bar was indeed mostly vacant. She hadn't been so reluctant to speak about this sort of thing on the Terrace with S'van since it had mostly been empty too. "She was injured and so we were grounded for a few weeks but it was enough to, well.." A single motion is made downwards to the stomach region. Hopefully that's more than enough of a hint! Letting that sink in with Reya, the woman turns back to the bartender as he arrives and allows S'van to discuss further the stories of Half Moon beverages whilst she orders herself a glass of juice. A very diluted glass of juice.
"Shocking," for Reya never going to 'those' meetings, a flash of teeth and a twinkle in those grey eyes displaying quite aptly that Sev might have a notion as to /why/. And then… well. Kind of demonstrated in the lack of filter that at least produces a rough sound of laughter for that, though he's eyeing Quinn's sort somewhat apprehensively as she heads for the bar. "Have you ever, actually killed someone?" he wonders, half in jest but… mostly he wants to know if that sword has been put to use or if it's decorative. The reason for the greenrider's grounding is left for Quinn to discuss, though there's an arched eyebrow and a pointed look her direction at the 'unexpected outcome'. "There are ways…" but he'll just stop RIGHT THERE because he's got enough sense not to dive into discussions of birth control with the pregnant, sword-wielding lady. Yup, Nope. Back to discussions of drinks which are, maybe, safer. "Well, there's a rather strong concoction named after the Weyrleader. He wasn't Weyrleader at the time, but he is now," he offers with a grin, hand grasping the back of a chair to drag it out, just so he can drop into it unceremoniously. Sprawling. Taking up way more space than he ought too. "R'hyn's Abs," he continues, to give the name of the drink. "And there's a rather… disturbingly green and glittery-thing going around right now that is supposed to be lime flavored? Probably, like that," and he nods his head to her blue drink, "it's more alcohol than anything else."
Reya pauses a moment, drink to her lips and then her gaze quite quickly flicks over towards Quinn and her unexpected outcome. "OHHHH….who's the baby daddy?" Rude, oh Faranth she's so rude. "Wait, tell me it isn't /Syd/?" At the thought the weyrwoman is making a handful of gagging motions. Even MORE rude. Poor Quinn. Course in this Weyr it's no secret that there's no love lost between Reya/Fuerioth and S'dny/Marzoth. "Well in any case, /congratulations/! I'll get you a gift!" Thankfully her voice is at least semi-quiet, no one seems to be looking in their direction yet. "And also drink enough for your part too." At S'van's comment there's another quick wink for the man before Reya's letting out an appreciative, "Oooooh!" She takes a sip of her own drink. It's disappearing fairly quickly. "A drink named after abs? And /glittery/? Yeah. next vacation is decided already I think."
"With this sword? No. But I can't speak for any of the folk whom crossed me during my time at Cove Hold. Some of their injuries weren't too pleasant." And that's as far as Quinn will go on that matter. She sips at her juice, thankfully not hearing the input regarding contraception - she might have indeed had a few choice words for the new Weyrsecond otherwise - and leans on the bar for support to 'enjoy' her muted and mostly flavourless drink. That is, until she almost gags and chokes as Reya's outburst has her spitting her drink out over the bar. Charming! "It-.." Coughing as she wipes her mouth, the greenrider blinks back tears and shakes her head to the Weyrwoman's question. ".. N-No. As much as it dissapointed Syd to hear, it's Lu'ka from Fort." She takes another experimental sip to ease the pain of her stinging throat and tries to wave Reya's offer off. "Don't need any gifts. Just want this over with already. A trip back to Half Moon does sound nice though. The Dolphin Bay resort is really relaxing."
S'van is just going to sit here, sprawling in his chair, and act like this is a perfectly normal, perfectly acceptable sort of situation. Weyrwomen with no filters. Greenriders spitting their drink over the bar. That may or may not have killed people. Totally a normal day. But lest that relax contenance fool anyone, he's definitely tuned in to the conversation, head tipped with just enough inclination that it's obvious he's listening and not trying to hide it. He just… doesn't have much to offer by way of commentary on people that Reya dislikes but apparently, Quinn does not. That 'over with' comment gets an eyebrow lift and a half-grin, but thankfully any smart-ass type comments are kept to himself. Self-preservation. He may not have it in spades, but what he DOES have is at least applied appropriately. "Yup," he for drinks named after abs. "Never had it, but apparently it's good? Though… to be honest, I doubt I would drink it even if I /did/ like alcohol. Just… the guy was my Assistant Weyrlingmaster, and then my Weyrleader. It would feel really, really wrong to drink something named after a part of his body."
"Lu'ka?" She doesn't know the man, but meh! "Then that's even /more/ reason for congratulations!" Reya, please, stop. PLEASE. Stop. "No no, I'll definitely get a gift of some kind…just leave me a note, could be some nice alcohol for after or…new….armor? A book?" Honestly the Weyrwoman honestly hasn't the faintest clue what Quinn would like, she's just stabbing into the dark at this point. Wait, Quinn's already provided the answer. "GOT IT. Post-outcome trip!" Fear it Quinn, fear it! "Course, you should come along if you have the time too, S'van!" She takes another long sip of her drink before she ends up laughing. "That would probably be a bit disturbing, huh? Sipping on something named after a mentor's abs? Good choice good choice." A slight pause, "How're you and J'en settling in here anyways? Getting used to the differences?"
Quinn is happy to answer that questioning tone in Reya's voice. "He's a Harper. Sometimes visits with the other Journeymen here or plays an instrument here or at the Terrace. He's making a habit to visit more while this is all happening so I'm sure you'll spot him eventually." Because Quinn likes to ensure that the man responsible for her condition gets the same treatment as herself! An offer of a post-birth trip probably would have Quinn shaking in her boots, but right now she seems oddly open to the idea. Maybe it's those horrible hormones people have been telling her about! ".. Yeah. That sounds good. I think I might go stir-crazy from being stuck around Monaco for so long so.. why not?" Yes Reya, Quinn will likely be terrified by the time the baby's out and she realises the gravity of this commitment. Drinking more of her diluted juice, she takes a moment to herself so that S'van can answer the weyrwoman's next line of questioning.
Even S'van is looking a little concerned at the continued offerings from Reya. Gifts. Post-birth alcohol? Outings to Half Moon for drunken revelry and crazy shenanigans?! "Uh… sure…?" for the invitation to come along, though he looks somewhat less enthusiastic about the idea than either of them. "I mean. What kinda trip are we talking about here?" because there are definitely visions of all sorts of debauchery (glittery drinks and possible table-dancing) floating in that head of his, if the skeptical and somewhat side-eye looks are any indication. And his next question, which is a polite but not at all innocent "How far along are you?" inquiry to Quinn, might just be to ascertain how long he has to concoct alternative plans. "He seems nice enough," says Sev of Lu'ka, "From what I saw, anyways." Drinks, of an alcoholic and body-part-named variety, get a grimace and a dry, crocked smile. "Well… so far… so good?" he decides for him and J'en settling. "It's been… peaceful for the moment but, we haven't really gotten to the part where we are actually moving furniture…" and a wince for that. "I might spend a few days sleeping in my office."
"Good! Very good!" Reya just oozes enthusiasm when both Quinn and S'van accept the trip proposition….for now! "I'll keep an eye out for Lu'ka then, but fear not, I'll be on my best behavior." For a brief moment all the excitement in her faces disappears and the goldrider winces slightly, "I mean it." /Fuerioth/ means it. Thankfully the gold is much more in control than her rider is and helps keep Reya in line. "Well, let us know if you guys need any help. Though…J'en seems like the private sort? At least on first meetings." Or maybe Reya just overshares things! There's another sudden wince from the rider and soon she's pushing away from the bar. "Apparently I have to sign something." A pause. "Something/s/." And Fuerioth is going to make sure she does. So much internal berating happening right now! "Catch you guys later?"
Quinn definitely appreciates the offer of good behaviour. No scaring Lu'ka away, now! "Thankyou." She smiles weakly with a nod, turning to face the goldrider as she starts to make her departure. "Have a safe return, ma'am!" Because signing things apparently puts you on immediate 'duty mode'. A wave is given to the goldrider as she leaves, then a look back to S'van as he inquires of her progress. "I'm not sure, exactly. I'd estimate it was around the time Kith's flight happened.. Which was around ten weeks back.. But it could have been, um.. Before that. Or after. Lu'ka was visiting Monaco before Kith rose." She's not too ashamed to admit that fact, but she seems keen to rule out the fact it was anyone else. No comments on what kind of trip from Quinn - she's probably just as clueless as the poor bronzerider! "Speaking of my lovely lifemate, though, she's just informed me that I have a visitor waiting for me back at the weyr. You'll have to excuse me." With a quick nod to S'van, Quinn makes for her table and collects her book, nudging the sleeping firelizard awake and onto her shoulder before making for the exit as well.
"Thanks. Might need a place to put some stuff… our weyr back in Half Moon was a bit, um. Bigger." A lot bigger. Like five times bigger. But S'van does not seem at all bothered by the downsize into their cozy cottage. As for being private? "Yeah, you could say that. He's also somewhat… particular about how things are handled. So I'm thinking I'll just… let him do his thing and come back when it's done." Hide. He's going to hide from his weyrmate. A friendly sort of grimace, sympathetic in nature, comes for the announcement that Reya must go sigh things; a task Sev is becoming all too familiar with. "Good luck," is offered in parting, a hand lifted from where it had been resting. "So, sometime yet. But you can probably fly straight to a lot of places, if you needed to get away?" Trying to be helpful, at least. "Of course," for excusing her, though he doesn't bother to stand or do anything formal about it, just another little hand-wave in farewell. "Enjoy your afternoon, Quinn," are his parting words and, upon her gathering of items and departure, the bronzerider rocks himself up and makes a beeline for the pool tables.