05.30.2013: A Toast to Courtesy
Summary: Taryn, Letha, Drake, Nitrim, Sophie, and Caedmon end up sharing a round of Peake Stout and toasting to courtesy and other stuff.
Date: 30 May 2013
Related: None
Taryn Drake Letha Nitrim Sophie 

The Central Arcade - Landing, Imperius
The Westend of Landing is also known as the Entertainment District. It is most active at night, where the neon lights sends the world into a kaleidoscopic glow. The Central Arcade is a wide, circular plaza with various thoroughfares spreading out like spokes on a wheel into the various regions of the district. At the center of the arcade is a round stage that nightly hosts various musical artists and groups to keep the party going even between venues. Neon piping is inlaid into the cement, creating various geometric patterns and creating pathways to various nightclubs and restaurants. AMP and Red Eye dealers covertly move through the crowds, trading doses for currency.
May 30, 3013

Afternoon trails on to night, the sky darkening and the stars above doing their best to shine through the dwindling daylight and the burgeoning lights of the city alike. There is no actual concert going on in the Arcade tonight, which doesn't mean that there isn't music playing or people dancing of course, but it's not the jam-packed mosh riot that it sometimes becomes. Drake Danger sits at one of the patio tables of a small eatery, plates piled before him, and a pint glass of some pale beer resting on the table half-full. He has an old beat-up acoustic guitar in his lap, and he's plucking lightly at the strings, his eyes half-closed as he starts and stops at a melody.

How do people ever find their way around in this blasted place? Taryn turns the corner finding himself on the same block yet again for like the seventh time today. Even in the light crowd that moves through the streets, his very rustic attire has the young man standing out a bit, and for some less law abiding individuals, perhaps an easy mark, especially with that slightly wide-eyed 'I have never been to such a big city' expression. He pauses on the parameter of the eatery that Drake is at listening to the music. Clearly not recognizing the rock god for his divinity or his music, "Hey, that's not too bad."

Letha Vallas steps into the Westend dressed in her typical bioluminescent fashion for a night-on-the-town. What is rather special about this night is that it is being completely comped by Landing Life, which has her beaming as she considers all the possible delights to dabble into, you know, for the sake of her readership. She strides through the center of the Arcade, her long duster flapping about her. Despite being nothing more than a little slip of a woman, she has gone for those tall heels that send her up a good four inches. She casts her gaze toward where a guitar touches her ears, and she blinks as she spies Drake and someone she doesn't know. Huh. She starts toward them.

An End-Of-The-World party? How could Nitrim Khournas say no. In fact, he was on Volkan when word of it passed the network and he he made sure to be able to attend for at least a short while. Straight from the ways to his hotel room, Nitrim drops off his belongings and takes to the streetside. He passes by an expensive liquor store on his way and buys a bottle of something that meets the expensive and brown standard, and then finally makes his appearance. Long coat trailing behind him with one fist wrapped around the neck of a bottle, he wades through the dancing people like a devil on a mission until he comes within sight of Drake at his perch. Nitrim slows and alters course to come within speaking distance. He glances to Taryn with a grin and nods upwards to the two of them, keeping his eyes well hidden behind his dark glasses. "Writing your potentially greatest and last, Danger?"

Drake opens his eyes at the commentary, offering up a crooked smile, "Think so? Maybe I should join a band…" His voice is a light tenor, easy and filled with just a hint of dry laughter that fits his little smirk nicely. And then Nitrim speaks up as well, and the up and coming rockstar bobs his head, "Working on it." Stilling his hand on the strings, he instead starts up a more recognizable tune, one of his early songs, 'Girly Action.' "Don't know that I've had the pleasure," that's for both of them, "Drake Danger, frontman of Hell If I Know." The bioluminescent attire beyond them catches his attention, and he sits up a little, starting up the guitar sting to the song again, a little louder.

Sophie and her guard, Caedmon, have decided to offer the Arcade a bit of a visit. The journey there always takes her through such uncertain streets, with nightclubs and drug dealers every which way. Therefore, Caedmon is on more of a lookout than usual, his gray eyes glancing around like a much uglier and more scarred version of a hawk. The young Royal shuffles in carefully behind him, a slender hand idly grasping a bit of his waistcoat throughout. In her other hand can be seen the flat surface of an electronic tablet, accompanying pen attached. They make their way towards a certain patio table of a small eatery, Sophie's amber eyes flickering to and fro. She gingerly settles down upon one of the table's seats, while Caedmon remains watchful and standing behind her.

Not catching Drake's sarcasm at first, Taryn shrugs slightly, "I suppose you could… if you wanted… " Then at the introduction, he hangs his head, shaking it slightly. "Yeah… guess you could, huh?" He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, offering a mildly embarrassed smile, "So, I'm gonna just slink back until I find a hole to crawl into…." His eyes follows Drake's to the literally glowing Letha, "And now I understand the appeal of this place… The Maiden herself walks amongst men."

Letha pulls her cluster of gold curls over her shoulder as she closes the distance, glancing once toward her left as she spies the young Sauveur and her guard — the guard definitely giving her status away since most Citizen women brave the world without the protective shadows. When she looks back to the gathering, she brightens into a lovely smile that dimples at the corners of her mouth and gently rounds out her cheeks. She offers the trio of men a gentle bow of her head — a good catchall in case there is a noble sort amongst them. "Off to bed, goes the Sun, and thus the Night takes her reign," she says with a poetic lilt, and also a bit of unspoken greeting.

Nitrim turns his head to listen to Taryn speak with his own eyes expressionless and hidden behind his dark glasses. When he turns to watch Letha approach, Nitrim runs his tongue over his teeth and slips his cigarette into his lips, eyebrow quirking towards the incoming girl. "There are a couple of them…" Maidens, that is. "…target rich environment this is for the idle, just remember to breathe." His chin tilts into a playful smirk before Nitrim turns his gaze back to Drake. "I'm Lord Nitrim Khournas, though don't let that break your stride. I'm here to drink and not rightly give a fuck for a few hours." He blows the smoke to the air and looks over to Letha, fairly making sure she notices him noticing her dress. His reply to her is a veiled smile and a nod. "Good to see you again, miss."

Drake shakes off Drake's confusion and then tosses a curling lock of hair back behind his head, "Not a problem. I'm not exactly a household name yet." He flashes a grin at the man who recognized him, "Only in the best of households." At the news that the man is a noble, he coughs, the melody stopping entirely as he slings the guitar and pops to his feet, bowing his head and then scrubbing back his hair, "Ah, sorry, Milord." Glancing over to Letha, he flashes a bit of a grin that drives a dimple into one cheek, "Sun's a square if it's going to bed already." The guard and the guarded lady get a careful bow of the man's head as well, even if she's the next table over.

Sophie begins scribbling on the surface of her tablet with that pen, slowly sketching something out as her amber eyes flicker between the device and the world around her. When she spots Letha, a flurry of activity guides her actions, diving towards her pad and swiftly gliding her pen along its surface. At last satisfied, she glances up and finally speaks, "that is quite the lovely dress, Miss…I would love to know your tailor" Overhearing the title of 'Lord' from nearby, she looks to Nitrim and says with wonder, "another noble in this section of the city? I am surprised. I had thought I was the only one to dare tread through the less…refined locations of Landing. Or that is at least what mother would want me to think." When Drake bows his head, she simply cants her own back, though her true attention is now upon the only declared noble in the Arcade.

Like Drake, Taryn offers a respectful bow to the Lord in their presence. The meaning of the presence of the guard does not register to the country raised Taryn, but he picks up that Sophie too is of noble birth and likewise, he offers her a polite bow. He then turns and grins over at Letha. "No. I must disagree. The night cannot yet reign. The night is dark and surely cowers in the presence of such radiance."

And there that noble sort is. She turns slightly toward Nitrim and her beryl-blue eyes dance quickly up his frame from head to toe with a touch of curious interest before she offers him another beaming smile. "Lord Nitrim," she says politely. "I actually just came from your home today, Milord. I've never seen rain evaporate the moment it touches the ground before. It was quite mesmerizing." She then casts a dubious look toward Drake. "You don't get night if the sun never sets," she points out to him with a tap of her nose. Then she is taken in by someone complimenting her dress, and she turns toward Sophie. "Thank you, Milady… though, I must admit, I actually brought this at a little boutique in the Sundry." She looks toward Taryn at his compliment — or she's at least taking that as a compliment — and she colors lightly.

"Mister Danger I thought I'd just tried to avoid that." Nitrim tilts his head to Drake with a flat tone to his voice, though the sarcasm that rounds the sides of his sunglasses is enough to show that no harm was done. He lifts his head to the sky and brings the bottle to his lips for a quick pull, swallowing down the harsh liquor. Leaving the cigrette between his lips, he brushes a gloved hand through his hair and then motions from Drake to Taryn, as if to say see? That's what I wanted to avoid. Still, he turns to face Sophie and her guard, glancing from her, to him for a sizing up, and then finally back to her. "I dare do all what may become a man. Who dares more is none. Since we're all rather poetic tonight. I am Lord Nitrim Khournas at your service."

For a pause, Nitrim plucks the cigarette from his lips and grins over to Letha, charmed. "We must have just missed each other at the Ways. Nothing like a little touch of steam, is there? I'm glad you enjoyed it."

Drake chuckles at Taryn's flattery of Letha, his smirk spreading to one side as he settles back into his chair and gets the guitar back into his arms. "I'm not sayin' the sun should never set…" he frowns in thought then, tilting his head to one side and tapping his index and middle fingers against the body of the guitar with a resonant sound. "That's not a bad idea though…" Clearing his throat, he nods to Nitrim, "Uh, sorry Milord. Just trying to be polite and all."

Sophie cants her head again, this time in the direction of the country born Taryn, though she remains sitting throughout. She even continues to draw on her tablet between exchanges of words, weaving a web of presently unrecognizable lines and curves across the screen of the device. She smiles at Letha and replies, "that is of no concern. Whether the dress was found in a boutique or a majestic market shop, you have certainly chosen well. I would be delighted to know where in the Sundry such an outfit was found. I am in need of a tailor for my Knight's squire, you see…" She grins at Nitrim and nods her head, "greetings, Lord Nitrim. I am Sophie Sauveur. You might know my father, Lord Marus."

Taryn has an almost impish grin on his lips at the slight coloring of Letha's cheeks. The amused look fades slightly as he looks to Nitrim, "Beggin' your pardon, m'lord, but sure you cannot expect courtesy to be set aside just because of the setting. Relaxing or not, you are noble-born… " He turns his gaze towards Sophic, canting his head slightly to the side, "or royal is it may be… " This is the home of the Sauveur, but still such a place. Well that does explain the rather intimidating companion.

Letha casts a glance toward Drake at his consideration, and she shakes her head a bit. "You can chase the sunset just as much as you can chase the night," she says to the musician with a touch of warmth. Thank the Gods for the Ways. She then regards Sophie once more, and she offers a bit of a laugh. "Of course, Milady. I could even let the owner know you are interested so she could provide you a special showing and fitting." She glances toward the menfolk now, one pale brow lofting with a touch of interest. Then she smiles toward Nitrim as she holds up a finger briefly before she glances toward the closest kiosk bar. "Jake! Would you please bring over four cups of Peake stout?" Letha knows people, particularly in the bartending industry. Letha glances toward Sophie. "Would you like anything, Milady?"

"And I appreciate how polite all of you are, especially in light of a pint of Peake." Nitrim replies to Letha, Taryn, and Drake equally with a shrug of his shoulders. "Though, if it's all the same I'm here to enjoy the atmosphere and your lovely faces dancing and…doing whatever it is people do." He gestures with his hand towards the crowd in the distance, and then turns to face Sophie. "Lord Sir Marus, aye, I know him and I heard he had a daughter, but it's no surprise to me that we haven't met as I'm not exactly the most social Khournas son. I tend to come and go…" He smirks, looking over to Drake and Letha with an amused, knowing look. "…like a shadow." He smiles back to Sophie. "It's nice to escape, which is really why I'm here."

Drake collects his half-full pint-glass, nodding to Letha, "That's just what I was thinking, blondie. Might be more fun to chase the sunset, party all day instead of all night. Play out in the sun, and all that." Setting down his glass, he begins to tap on the body of his guitar again, a percussive sound that rattles between thumb and pinky like a snare drum. "You can even get some good music here from time to time." He nods to Nitrim, sending a curtain of hair across his face, "Along with the drinking and the dancing and the atmosphere and the drugs."

Sophie waves a hand nonchalantly in the air, "courtesy just slows things down anyway…" Caedmon, her guard, lets out the softest breath imaginable. Sophie grins at that, glancing towards Letha once more and replying, "oh, I would very much like that. The dress looks outstanding on you. That said, I am indeed looking for a tailor to craft the hunting leathers for my Knight's squire. I already have the materials, now I just have been in search of a talented individual to sew them together." She taps her chin in thought at the offer of a drink, adding, "make that five cups of Peake stout, if you would, Miss." Caedmon gently warns, "my Lady…" She shakes her head, "it is fine, Sir Barrow. If I get drunk, you can simply carry me home." Nevermind the rumors such an act might bring. She nods her head firmly to Nitrim's words about atmosphere, "I agree. If you act unnaturally, I can hardly draw you in the proper light…" And then she laughs lightly, "he had more than just a daughter, Lord Nitrim. He had four more and a son to boot. I am merely the last of the lot. And we're all living in this peculiar place called Matthias Towers…" She waves a hand in the air, "I am normally not the sociable type myself, but these days it is best we meet all we can, in light of the pending Hostile assaults…we are the generation of Vengeance, after all."

Taryn's brow furrows just slightly, "Not to be argumentative, but while it may slow things down sometimes… it is often much better than it's absence. If more people would take a moment to offer just the slightest bit of courtesy, it could make a world of difference… or more importantly make a difference in the world. All life as a beginning and an ending… ultimately they're all the same, just the circumstances differ… the meat between is what's important… which would you prefer to taste… tender and succulent or tough and bitter?" He shrugs slightly, then an air molecule passed by and his attention changes, "Oh, do the Peake make a decent brew?"

Jake the Bartender is quick to fill four pint glasses with the dark, warm Peake stout and he hands them off to one of his waitress gals to bring them over toward the cluster. Letha glances over toward Nitrim at his play of words, and she offers him another round-cheeked smile. "Hmm… that would mean you'd have to actually be up in the daylight hours," she teases him gently as she takes two of the four glasses, offering one toward Nitrim with a bow of her head. "Milord," and then she offers the other to Taryn, leaving the last two for her and Drake. "One more cup, Jake!" She calls back to the bartender, who smirks and shakes his head and goes about filling another cup. She considers Sophie now. "There is much that those of us who cannot fight are doing in the face of the War." Then she glances toward Taryn to see if he may approve of the brew.

"The Khournas family strikes again. I'm one of five myself, Lady Sophie." Nitrim moves closer to Sophie, eyes still sheathed behind his dark sunglasses despite the nighttime air. He finds a railing to lean against, which gives him an opportunity to bring one of his heavy boots behind him to rest on it. One elbow back on the rail, he smirks. "So you seem to be drawing everything, so I'm sure you'll understand. There's a lot to be seen out here, not just the drinking, the drugs, the girls, or the people that don't know whether or not they'll see next week. Things are alive here. It's worth dropping by." He holds up a finger to Sophie for a pause and turns his head to Taryn.

With one cigarette-laden hand, Nitrim takes the glass from Letha with a broad grin. As always, his voice has a smokey quality to it, a sign of too many cigars this evening and maybe a little too many drinks as well. "Thanks, young miss. You'll have to let me buy the next round." The skin near the edge of his glasses tightens, as if winking, before he leans back to catch Taryn more fully. "You make a good point. We're all one people, and courtesy has its places. What's important is that respect travels both directions and that when the time comes, despite our stations in life, we treat eachother with honor and dignity. It's why I'm not drinking alone." He salutes Taryn and drinks down some of the Peake.

Drake nods to Taryn's commentary on etiquette, although the words that follow draw an arch of his eyebrows, and he laughs softly, "Everywhere makes a decent brew. It's just a question of what kind of beer you like." He waves off the additional call for a brew, reaching forward to tap the rim of his pint glass, demonstrating that there's still beer in it, "Not that I don't appreciate the offer, Letha." And then there's the mention of Matthias Towers, or at least then is when it penetrates the skull that's awhirl with musical notes and new people, and he blinks, "Uh… Your Highness. Ah… sorry." Exactly what he's apologizing for isn't clear.

Caedmon gives Taryn a firm nod and looks relieved when someone gives voice to his own values, "well said. Now if only this new generation took those words to heart…" Sophie rolls her eyes at her guard's words, but she slowly replies, "surely the existence or absence of courtesy does not decide alone how…tender and succulent this meat is?" She glances at the bartender for only a moment as her eyes pass over him and settle on Letha, "I agree. Though I'm hardly as talented in a fight as Caedmon here, I do think the drawings I create will help capture this time for a long while to come. I'm sure many people are already working hard to help those that can fight." When Nitrim moves closer, her amber eyes follow him over, smiling brightly at his speech, "I very much agree, Lord Nitrim. I am quite glad we are of a mind on this. There is vastly more to see out here compared to within the walls of the palace. I have already acquired more inspiration here than months of contemplation cooped up in my bedroom." She tilts her head curiously when Nitrim holds up that finger, though she giggles lightly at Drake's words, shaking her head, "my mother is 'Your Highness'. I am merely 'my Lady.' Though…I suppose it is always nice to be titled as such, Mister…" She falls silent expectantly, having failed to catch his name earlier.

Taryn brings the glass to below his nose, breathing in the scent, before taking a drink. He nods, "Pretty good… Thank you." He grins over at Drake, "Oh, no.. you haven't tasted some of the swill called beer that I have tasted… " He pauses, "It's the total of all experiences that color our life… each pleasant thing adds to the total, just as each bitter moments likewise colors… It is for each person to choose whether or not to savor the good or the ill." He smiles, "But for some, one act of kindness can change the course of their life… So why not take the opportunity to be that catalyst to make someone's life more pleasant?" He then realizes how much he's been talking and looks down at the stout before taking another drink, almost interally backing away.

Letha glances toward Drake at his reaction to the woman as she takes a sip of her own stout, though she now has two cups to deal with. With Sophie's own cup en route, she decides just to set it down on Drake's table while she relaxes a bit into one hip. She lifts her gaze up toward the others as they speak. She slips into that observant journalist mode where she watches and very closely listens. She glances toward Taryn, offering him a softer version of her smile. "Drake is a musician… I think he's tasted all kinds of swill." She glances toward the pair of nobles now as she takes another swallow of stout.

"Many months of contemplation in one room?" Nitrim tilts his head to Sophie, almost not believing her. Though, she is a royal. It'd be best to not toy with her too much. "Well, then you should enjoy yourself tonight, whether or not your Knight has to carry you back to your tower. I've got a man around here somewhere. It's always best that I don't see him and others don't see him seeing me. Little ghost he is." He pauses for another sip from his glass and then turns to stand alongside Sophie, looking to the three citizens before them. "Miss…" He says to Letha, smirking again with a nod towards Taryn. "…this gentleman here makes a good point, speaking about doing pleasant things for people and sending the ripples along downstream. One act of kindness, right? So tell me. Both of these gentleman seem to turn to you when you look at them. Were you intending to dance tonight?"

Drake bows his head at Sophie's correction, "Uh, of course, Milady." He points over to Letha as she half introduces him, tossing back his waves of rich brown hair and offering the royal lady a grin that tosses a dimple onto his cheek, "Drake Danger, Milady. You might've heard some of my music." And his fingers drop to the strings of the guitar in his laps again, playing the chorus to 'Flaming Heart,' one of the hit songs off his self-titled debut of a couple years ago. "And you'd better believe I've tasted some stuff I hated, Letha, but that just means it ain't right for me, yeah? I mean… it's all good to someone." Nitrim's question to Letha causes him to smirks faintly, raising his eyebrows as he looks over to her for her response.

Caedmon would almost certainly blush with pride, if he were the blushing sort at all, hearing what Taryn has to say about courtesy. Sophie smiles, cutting her guard off before he can once again declare, "well said, well said. Are you certain you are not one of my etiquette tutors in disguise?" She nods her head sorrowfully to Nitrim, "I'm sure you've heard of a sickly Royal growing up in the Matthias Towers? That was me…nearly until I was in my teens, at least. Of course, now I can do much more than whine at my parents for not allowing me out. I can even enjoy myself in the Landing Arcade, and get drunk without my mother threatening to faint with shock." She chuckles softly to Drake's uncertain words, smiling back as he more officially introduces himself, "it is good to meet you, Mister Danger. I have always wondered who stole all the danger in the world. I hate to admit it, but I have not heard much. I have been in Arborenin until recently. I might dare to go so far as calling myself something of a forester." She grins at Nitrim when he questions Letha, sitting back and scribbling a little bit more on her tablet as she awaits the response. When a server brings her the mug of Peake stout, she instantly raises the drink to the sky and declares, "to courtesy!" She takes a swig of the alcohol, only to cough most of it back out into her cup, wincing from the taste and shivering lightly.

"I beg your pardon, m'lady. It is not my place to lecture. I don't know what has possessed me tonight… " Taryn takes another drink of the stout, this one a bit deeply, as he stands there slightly uncomfortably. At Sophie's toast, he lifts his a bit. He turns to Letha, nodding slightly, quite happy to turn the attention away from his soapbox. "Yes, all here and the envious night dine on anticipation."

Letha looks up as the Khournas man speaks to her, and she glances between Taryn and Drake. There is only a moment of hesitation before her expression brightens with another beaming smile that just gently lifts her eyebrows. "Isn't the only reason to come to the Westend, Milord? Or at least one of the only reasons." She takes another swallow of stout, glancing toward Drake as he offers up his introduction, and she actually pauses a beat before offering at the tailend, "And I'm Letha Vallas, Milady." Then she turns her attention back to Nitrim with an open and earnest curiosity.

With one long, lithely muscular arm, Nitrim extends his glass to the sky. "To Courtesy." He answers the toast and then downs the last of the stout. Fingers hooded over the top of the glass, he sets it down on the rail. With only a little left to his cigarette, he takes a final drag before stubbing it out. "Well, then Lady Sophie, congratulations on your newfound health and ability to explore the galaxy. You've got drinks, potential dance partners, and the security to do as you please without too much trouble. The possibilities aren't endless, but they are many." He pushes his sunglasses over his eyes to make sure they don't slip, though his gaze does focus on her for a short while before turning back to Letha, Drake, and Taryn. "If I didn't know any better, Miss Vallas, that dangerously sounded like you've got an empty dance card, and no current dance partner." His smile was dark and almost knowing. "Men come to the Westend, noble and common alike to see beautiful girls like this one. Now…" He looks to Drake and Taryn. "…for fuck's sake will one of you ask this beauty to dance, or I'll take the opportunity myself. All this talk of sunsets. To hell with the Hostile." He offers his bottle of bourbon to Sophie. "We die tomorrow? No regrets. No fear."

Drake shrugs helplessly at Sophie's commentary on him, "Sadly, Danger isn't my middle name. Just my last name." He raises his own glass, "To Courtesy." Shifting from 'Flaming Heart' to 'Don't You Cry No More,' he adds, "This is one of my more recent ones, with Hell If I Know. That's my band." The reaction of the royal to the stout causes him to chuckle, "They have wine here too, Milady. Although if you want to try another beer, a lager or a hefe might be more to your taste. It's a bit lighter." Letha's nonexistent response to Nitrim causes him to chuckle, and the nobleman's own response makes the musician laugh quietly and go back to playing 'Girlie Action.' "Letha can get her own dance partners just fine, Milord. She doesn't need help about that. Besides, lady's got a beer."

Sophie chuckles lightly at Taryn, at least after her guard provided a handkerchief to wipe her mouth, "it is fine. I am plenty accustomed to it." Her attention is momentarily drawn away when the other woman introduces herself, smiling lightly, "Miss Vallas. A pleasure to meet you. Thank you for the drink…even if it would seem the flavor intends to balk at my tongue." Amber eyes flicker to Taryn once more, and she offers, "it would appear as though you are the only one remaining before I have been introduced to all…though I must admit my curiosity to your profession as well. Not deportment instructor, I presume?" She sets the mug of Peake stout on the table beside her, listening happily to Nitrim all the while, "thank you, Lord Nitrim. I intend to welcome all opportunities that I may, until every possibility has been depleted." She takes the offered bottle of bourbon and plays the liquid uncertainly around in its vessel, "y-yes, no regrets, no fear…" After a moment, she throws caution to the wind and manuevers to swallow down a sip of the man's drink. The liquid burns on the way down, somehow managing to only wince when she coughed before. She sets the bottle upon the table as well, before handing the handkerchief back to Caedmon and replying to Drake, "ah, the secret is out then. Your entire family took the danger then." She nods her head lightly, "you play quite well, Mister Danger. I have tried playing an instrument. But it would appear I have always been drawn to the painter's easel instead." She waves a hand, "it is no worry, I am certain with enough successful sips, I shall eventually succeed in drinking an entire cup."

"Taryn Wystrel, m'lady." The young man says with a bit more of a respectful tone. "I'm a groom… I take care of and assist in training horses…" He does have a Valen accent, even if it is very rustic. He looks over at Letha, then back to Nitrim, "I'm sure that I would prove a poor dance, especially for someone so cultured…. Though besides a stumbling buffoon, I am sure it would make Miss Letha even more the bright star of the evening."

Letha laughs at all three of the men, and she shakes her head a bit at Nitrim's threat. "I, however, do not require a dance partner." She says with upward flash of her palm before she finishes off the rest of her beer in a simple tip of her chin. She rolls her shoulders out of her jacket, showing off her bare arms and shoulders and starts to fold it up. Then she tosses her curls off her shoulder as she steps out toward where the dancing mobs are starting to form up. She flashes a glance over her shoulder toward the group she has left behind before she tosses her jacket to Jake the Bartender and then goes to join them writhing bodies of the darkening Arcade.

Something about Letha's independent manner brings a smile to Nitrim's face, which settles into place as he watches Letha walk off towards the dancing crowds. Once she disappears, he looks over to Sophie with one eyebrow lifting over the rim of his glasses. Playfully, his shoulders rise in a shrug and he reaches for his bottle again for another swig. The burn goes down easy for the man, a seasoned drinker. "Will you be venturing out to dance with the others, Lady Sophie? I imagine it would provide a security nightmare, but if your man there needs a second pair of eyes, I'm more than willing to offer mine."

"Well…on that note, the two of you." Nitrim looks back to Drake and Taryn, half-humored and half-disappointed. "It seems my attempt to inspire a little bit of fire has fallen short, though Taryn, a bit of advice. No man ever attracted a lady through fear. Drake? Well, you seem to know what you're doing so I'll not bother. It was a pleasure to meet the two of you."

Drake shakes his head at Sophie, "No Milady, I'm the only one in Danger. And thank you, Milady. I've had a long-a — " he clears his throat, "a long time to practice." Just how long someone who looks to be in his late teens or early twenties could have practiced, of course, is up for debate. Taryn's demurring and Nitrim's response causes Drake to laugh lightly, a clear, ringing sort of sound, "Let me give you some advice… Taryn, yeah? Don't ever pass up a chance to dance with a pretty girl. All you have to do is shuffle your feet to the beat a little, move your arms, and not hit her in the head with them." Reaching forward, he drains off the last of his beer, pointing in the direction of the bioluminescent dress and rising to his feet, "If you'll excuse me," he confirms the Lord's estimation, "I have some of my own advice to take. Enjoy your evening Milady, Milord." Bowing his head, he brushes his hair back from his face as he straightens up once more. His guitar is slung behind his left shoulder as he makes his own way into the crowd.

Sophie arches a brow, "indeed, Mister Wystrel? You are quite educated for a groom, I should think. I have a few horses of my own, though I admit to the crime of rarely conversing with my grooms. I believe I would enjoy meeting the horses you have cared for, when I have the time." She waves a silent farewell to Letha and then Drake as the pair disappear amongst the throng of dancers, turning towards Nitrim to say, "I am quite comfortable just watching the sights and listening to the sounds, Lord Nitrim. I am an artist, after all. Still, I thank you for the suggestion. Perhaps another time…" She nods her head firmly as Nitrim begins heading off as well, "it was a pleasure to meet all of you. I believe I should part ways as well. Caedmon gets anxious in places like these." She slowly rises to her feet, canting her head lightly in farewell before her guard carefully leads her towards quieter pastures and much needed sleep.

Taryn watches the gathering disperse as quickly as it gathered. He offers to the two nobles a respectful bow as each departs. He shakes his head. His second night in the city, and, like the first, it has proven to be quite different than he had expected. He finishes off his glass of stout, before heading off into the night himself.

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