05.24.3013: Hangover Cures
Summary: Nikomachos suffers from a hangover, and Jane and Cedric attempt to cure him. Letha stops by for a chat afterward.
Date: 24 May 2013
Related: None yet
Cedric Jane Letha Nikomachos 

Common Room - The Rose Inn, Imperius
Stepping through the artistically carved rosewood doors, there is no doubt that this inn is for the affluent. Roses are the predominant theme; they are carved into the wood and painted on the walls with their fresh counterparts kept in vases and bowls spread throughout. The floors are dark, polished woods. Directly before the small foyer is a graceful wooden staircase that leads up to the guest rooms. To its left is the main dining room where a full service menu is served, but only at breakfast and dinner. All the tables and chairs are crafted of solid wood with roses carved out of the chair backs, and table and chair legs; rose-colored velvet upholsters the seats, and they are amazingly comfortable.

Opposite of the dining room, on the other side of the stairs, is the barroom where lunch is served in the afternoons and drinks are served all day long. There is a pub-style bar that runs the entire length of the room with blush-tinted mirrors that reflects the entire room in a rosy hue. Seating includes the barstools, various sized tables, and a small cluster of chairs and sofas around the mastercrafted hearth. Attached to the barroom is a private salon that can be reserved for meetings or intimate meals.

24 May 3013

Nikomachos would probably rather not even be awake right now, but that's a bad example for one's squire. And so the Valen knight is slumped in a booth at the Rose Inn over a strong cup of coffee, one hand shading his eyes from the morning light, while said squire fusses over his armor at the stadium. A waitress fumbles a tray, causing a plate to fall and shatter, and Niko flinches sharply, groaning and rubbing his temples. Six-be-damned pills never kick in quickly enough.

Perhaps it is because Jane is used to being up all night partying; perhaps it is because her liver is made of titanium; or perhaps it is because she was actually sober last night: whatever the reason, Jane is entirely sober (and cheerfully so, in fact) as she sweeps into the Rose Inn all by her lonesome. Her newest shadow, Willow, is apparently elsewhere for the moment, leaving Jane to scan the common room surreptitiously as the hostess inquires after her party size.

"I'm meeting someone," Jane offers the girl with a purr, pulling her shades from her face and gesturing toward the slumped, tortured form of Nikomachos huddled in a booth. It is an impromptu meeting, to be certain, but couldn't be more well timed. She waves away the hostess, insisting she can seat herself, and glides up behind Niko's booth. The rustling of her very tight gown is audible as she leans down, places her head close to his, and offers an incredibly high-pitched cheerful greeting: "Well good afternoon, my lord! What a wonderful coincidence to see you here, and in my usual booth!" The heads of other patrons turn, stopping mid-conversation (and some mid-bite) to stare at Jane. She might preen a little with the attention.

Nikomachos is more interested in ignoring all the loud noises around him and getting as much coffee as possible down his gullet than scanning the room, and so the appearance of the celebrity at his ear is only noticed even as she's leaning down. He slowly starts to turn his head in that direction, and then jumps again at the overly cheerful greeting, groaning and letting his head drop onto crossed forearms, "Father…" he groans, "…why do you judge me so…?" Only then does the voice actually filter through his pounding headache, and he rolls his head on his forearms, peeling one eye open to study Jane. Hangover-be-damned, he offers up a smile, although it's a bit sickly, and even hauls himself to his feet, "Miss Wyre. A pleasure, I'm sure." Bracing himself with one hand on the side of the table, he gestures to the seat across from him in the booth, "I wouldn't want to… keep you from your usual booth. Please join me." He adds after a moment, "Quietly, please? I'm afraid I'm the worse for wear."

"I am afraid you are, dear," Jane offers in a tone that is far more sympathetic, and she waves Niko back into his seat even as she slides onto the bench opposite him. "I take it the partying ways are not usually yours. Is your head fit to split? Here," she continues quietly, slipping her hand into a purse. The rattle of pills follows as she fishes out a small canister of pills, pops it open, and slides one across the table toward her companion. "These are even better in a hypo, but for some reason the doctor doesn't think it's wise for me to wander around with them. So, conventional medicine it is. Take it with your coffee, and chase it with some hair of the dog."

Jane lifts a finger, summoning a waitress, and leans forward with her elbows atop the table to place her order. "Two old fashioned bloody marys and make them spicy. Sweat it out, milord, don't nurse it. I haven't read the news yet this morning. Who won the archery tournament? I wanted to be there, but work ran late."

Nikomachos chuckles softly, although there's a pained edge to it as he slumps back down in the booth, leaning his forehead on his fingers and peeking out beneath them at the actress, "Oh, I quite enjoy going out and drinking and partying. Just… not usually so many drinks in such a short time." And he groans again at the memory, "Just enough to make my head host to a marching band, but not enough to make me… clear out my system." His left hand makes a rising gesture from chest to mouth to demonstrate what he means. The offer of the pill causes him to shake his head, "I already had three." There's a pause, and he shrugs, reaching out across the table to take it, "For the headache." That smile cracks through his pain once more, "Something tells me this is more than that. Oh, and, uh… Sir Tristan Arboren won, Miss Wyre." He almost counters the order, looking especially pale at the mention of the hair of the dog, but he shakes his concerns off, nodding to the waitress and swiping his bracelet over the reader.

With a uniform ironed and crisp enough to slice bread, Cedric has appeared in the doorway, making for the service desk. Words are exchanged with receptionist, who then fingers through a holo-interface. While he waits, the Captain tugs at the cuffs on his unifrom. A handful of minutes a group of five hastily and shabbily uniformed sailors come down the stairway, each step a bit more sheepish when they spot their CO tapping his foot in wait. They all pile into a line, coming to attention and offering salutes, which Cedric returns. "Sailor Williams," he says to the first female in the line. "How long was leave last night?"

"Thirteen hours, sir." the Sailor answers.

Cedric nods. "And how many hours has it been?" is the next question.

She hesitates, having to look at her watch. "Seventeen hours, sir." There's a pause before she continues. "Sir, As the senior member the group, I'll take responsibility."

"You will? I should hope that someone does, especially when I give a specific when to be on and off the ship. Do you have any excuse that your group is the last ones that still haven't checked in?" This continues to go on for a bit, questioning and answering till the Captain says something about reporting to Sergeant so-and-so about reprimands then tells them they're dissmissed, the Sailors filing out. This ellicits a headshake, if not a humored one.

Jane watches Nikomachos with a soft, sympathetic expression, reaching out to touch his hand briefly as he picks up the pill. "I have not met Sir Tristan, but I would like to now. I always want to meet the tournament winners - it's the celebrity equivalent of meeting a celebrity, you know?" She chuckles and leans back in the booth, and this vantage point allows her to watch the starched officer march into the inn and dispatch with his work in a manner entirely reserved for devoted military men. She arches an eyebrow and gestures in Cedric's direction with her chin, directing Niko's attention that way. "If you were more like that, my lord, I doubt you would remember what a hangover feels like. It must be uncomfortable for him to be in a place that allows for things like frivolity and fun—and sleep."

Nikomachos pops the pill and washes it down with a swallow of coffee, slumping back in his seat rather than leaning forward over the table. It's easier to keep his eyes up on his companion that way. He chuckles again, "And I'm sure they find the meeting quite the event too, Miss Wyre." He turns his head to follow the gesture, groaning at the 'sudden' movement and rubbing at a temple again, "Lord Captain Ric? He's not so bad. Gives the Hostiles a bit more credit than they deserve, but not such a bad sort." The last of the coffee disappears down his throat, and he lets out a breath, "Will you be there for the tilt tomorrow, Miss Wyre? I hope to make your meeting the winner a little anticlimactic."

Touching a finger to the earpeice that's wrapped, there's something that sounds like a conversation going on. "Found them. Rose Inn….yeah, drunk…well, hungover at least. Give them light reprimands, won't be any good if taken to task, so put'em on deck six or something. When? I'd say eightteen-hundred or so. Yeah. Uh-huh, later." The finger lets go, now taking a real moment to spy surrondings, which has him picking out Niko, at least. "Now, here's a sorry sight." he comments, trotting over. "Sir, need to space out the drinks with water." A metal is dug out of a pocket, picking through small items until he sets down a pill-sized object. "Salt tablet. Help rehydrate."

Jane smiles prettily at the waitress who delivers their drinks, and she slides her chilled glass closer, using the straw to stir through the tomato-rich liquid. "Mmm," she murmurs after taking a sip before pointing toward Niko's drink. "Drink the whole thing," the actress orders, and her words are further supported by Cedric's appearance and the mention of rehydration. "Ah, or you could do it that way, too, but my way is more fun. I fear his lordship is quite thoroughly regretting not spacing out his drinks, sir. Jane Wyre." Without waiting for an introduction, the red-head reaches out a hand toward Cedric accompanied by the flash of a charming smile. "And I've been meaning to seek you out about the tilt, Sir Nikomachos. I have—an unusual request, you could say."

Nikomachos looks up as Cedric approaches, offering a nod of greeting, "Captain." The offer of the salt pill causes him to laugh softly, then rub at his temples, "ooooh. Yeah, I must look pretty bad then. Everyone is offering me something." He takes a sip of the bloody mary, then hefts up the salt pill, preparing to toss it into his mouth, "This isn't going to interact badly with whatever it was you gave me, will it, Miss Wyre?" The request from the actress, however, has him pausing before popping the salt tab, tilting his head to one side, "A request? I wouldn't be much of a fan if I turned down whatever it is you're about to ask, now would I, Miss Wyre?" Again, he tries to chuckle and ends up holding his forehead.

"Sir, I've lived my life amid Sailors. I've seen my fair share of men and women looking like bags of bruised ass the day after." Cedric replies. "Usually that person is looking at me in the mirror. Always carry a couple of salt tablets. It works, you'll just be hitting the head a couple hours from now." A look goes to the drink, which gets a shrug. "Shouldn't. I usually take a tablet before I start drinking so I don't end hating myself the day after, especially when Reville is at oh-five-hundred." Jane's introduction receives a ponderous look. "Oh, right, Jane Wyre." it finally seems to click. "Sorry, I don't get much time to go to the movies all that often." A glance around suddenly. "I didn't walk in on a reality show recording by accident, did I?"

"If a medication interacted badly with a -salt- tablet, then it would kill us all," Jane replies with a light laugh, but she cuts the sound short when she recalls Niko's current predicament. Coughing quietly, she covers her faux pas by sipping at her drink and glancing around the inn before returning her attention to the Cindravale. Her hand goes unshaken, and so she slips it into her lap while Cedric and Niko converse. At the mention of a reality show, her eybrows arch upward and she cranes her neck to peer around the Orelle toward the entrance. Alas, no camera crews are visible, and she purses her lips before squinting at the navy man. "No," she emphasizes rather tartly, turning away to stare at Nikomachos instead. "Reality shows are for the desperate."

Nikomachos shrugs helplessly at Jane's response, tossing back the tab and chasing it with some bloody mary. "Usually I drink plenty of water. Of course, usually It's not six Fireballs in an hour." He pauses, thinking painfully back, "Or was it seven? Five?" Shaking the question off with a grimace, he adds, "We were both drinking rather heavily." At Jane's tart response to Cedric, Niko chuckles again, "Miss Wyre is working on a movie with Samwell Hansen at the moment." He squints over at the actress, "Unless that's wrapped already." Scooting into the booth a bit more, perhaps to make room for the Naval Captain, he takes another pull of his bloody mary, then adds, "You still haven't told me what this unusual request is, Miss Wyre."

Apparently, Cedric has no idea if reality shows are for the desperate at not, though he does seem to get that he made an imporper remark. "Sorry Miss Wyre. I'm at a bit of disadvantage, being media disinclined. About the only thing I watch is HSNN(Haven Sports News Network)and football." Taking a seat, he sets his PDA out, setting it on vibrate, incase there's something military-related he should know about. "Ah, a movie, alright. Got it. I honestly can't remember the last time I saw one. I think…I took Marus to see this animated one a few months back. Something to do with pirates."

"It's nearly done. Next week it should be a wrap, and the movie goes into post-production. In a couple of months it'll hit the big theatres," Jane replies to Nikomachos, watching as Cedric settles onto the bench beside him. "I suspect a navy man won't have time in a few months to catch a flick, but perhaps some of the nervous loved ones left behind will be desperate for a distraction. That's what the producers are hoping, anyway, because any creds they can get to line their fat wallets…" Flicking her fingers dismissively, the actress turns the conversation away from the potentially controversial and toward the potentially hilarious. "Jousting lessons, Sir Niko. I will pay you, of course, for proper, professional jousting lessons. I've about four days' leave from the set as they work on the scenes that don't require my character. I would like as much training as you can pack into the hours until the tilt."

Nikomachos eyes Cedric as the naval officer leaves out tournaments from his choice of entertainment, but apparently he hasn't recovered quite enough for full-on teasing. Jane's request, however, draws his eyebrows up in surprise. He doesn't respond right away, however, instead draining down more of the bloody mary, and shifting in his seat a little. Raising one hand to catch the waitress's attention, he makes a drinking motion, then mouths 'water.' Getting a nod, he looks back to Jane, narrowing his eyes in thought — or avoidance of the relatively dim lights of the back of the common room. "Do you have the proper equipment? Armor, at least medium weight, training lances, a horse built for the joust? Preferably a destrier, but if you have lighter armor, a thoroughbred will work."

"As much as I wouldn't mind having a life beyond work, that's not something I'm really allowed. Especially now. But can't worry about it. Always enjoyed the few naval movies I had a chance to see. See how accurate they were. I have enough time for football, and as crummy as my Comets are, there's something to said of real fandom." The matter of her getting lessons gets another shrug. "So…is that for a movie part or just fulfilling a personal hobby?"

Jane watches Nikomachos closely to gauge his reaction, taking another swig from her bloody mary and draining it to less than half. "Protector armor," she replies promptly, listing the one type of gear that is most often handed out to those of her status. "It isn't truly meant for jousting, but it will keep me from losing a limb—I hope." Her gaze cuts to Cedric and she raises her eyebrows at his question. "A hobby, if you will," is her cryptic reply before she returns her attention to Niko. "Luckily for my childhood, I was trained in proper saddles. My own mount is a thoroughbred, but we have a destrier I could use. I am not as familiar with him, nor he with me, so I'm not certain as to the wisdom of attempting to use him."

Nikomachos frowns thoughtfully at the responses, glancing over at Cedric as he adds in his own commentary — and adding a chuckling little "Go 'Stangs." Shrugging a little helplessly, and taking up the delivered glass of water with a nod, he looks back to Jane, "If you're wearing Protector armor, you'll have to learn to take a hit. A solid one, since you won't have a shield to protect you. But the good news is that you should be able to ride your own horse, if it has the temperment to carry you in the lists." Slugging down some of the water, he sets the glass down, starting to look a little closer to human after three types of medication, several cups of coffee, most of a bloody mary, and now half a glass of water. "I'll tell you what. I can offer you intensive training for… call it six hours between now and the tilt. Much more and you'll be too bruised to compete. In exchange, I'll take one thousand dollars, and a consultant credit in the next movie you use a lance in."

Cedric flicks in dismissal at the Mustangs comments. He knows his team isn't all that great, so there's really no defense in saying otherwise. Something he accepted a long time ago. "If I had gone pro, at least they'd have a half-way decent striker." The matters of jousting things seem to go straight over his head, especially the bit about horses, so he just blinks a few times to suggest that it's nothing he has any kind of knowlege about. It's not like he even sees horses on the Ring. Or well, hardly ever. "I guess…that sounds fair. You two might as well be speaking another langauge."

"She can carry me," Jane assures Nikomachos, clipping her words short as she finishes the remainder of her bloody mary. The woman looks more assured now, and more settled, as if a little morning vodka is just the thing to bring her to rights. As to the state of her body and its ability to compete, all she can do is stare at Niko and snort in amusement. "Perhaps you should take to carrying salt tablets with you regularly, so that if you do start to drink, your brain won't be quite so addled. I will be fine. I know how to take a fall as well as the next man. I don't expect to last very long, either, but it will still be a splash. A thousand dollars for six hours of training sounds steep, but since you're sacrificing last-minute practice on worthwhile squires, I will take it. As for the consultant credit, I can't promise it just for this. However, in my next move that requires jousting - whether or not for my character - I can do some sweet-talking and eyelash batting to get you a call for actual consulting. That's the best I can do, though."

Nikomachos offers a wan grin at Cedric, "That's alright. Whenever two Navy types start talking, I get lost. Just wait until we start talking angles of deflection on breastplates and shields." And then he's looking back to Jane, "And have you ever taken a lance to the chest, Miss Wyre? Or the helmet? Tell you what, then. One-sixty an hour, minimum a thousand, up to 10 hours, if you can manage it." He hesitates, rubbing at his temples once more, drains off his bloody mary and gathers up the celery to chew on thoughtfully, "I doubt I'll be able to make the next film you're on. Liable to be fighting, you know. But I understand you can't promise anything but trying. Done on that point."

Stumbling into the Rose Inn is the young journalist Letha Vallas. It appears that the doorjam tried to trip her, though she recovers with a quick exhale, tossing her slightly wavy blond hair back deliberately. She casts the hostess a bit of an embarrassed smile as she adjusts her messenger bag and gives her double-lapeled jacket a bit of a tug. "Uh… I'm looking for Miss Wyre?" She asks the hostess, who looks her up a down a moment as if to judge if she has any business looking for the actress. Letha's expression becomes stoic, stormblue eyes narrowing a touch before she flashes her holographic badge that says PRESS in big letters. "She's expecting me." Or at least she hopes that Willow girl got Jane the journalist's message…

"Unless you're talking about deflection of turrets against hull plating due to improper attack vectors, no…probably not. I think I've only been to one joust in my life. And that was only because Lyrienne made me go." Cedric admits. "I've never taken a lance, but I've taken enough punishment from various other weapons to get a vauge idea that's probably pretty unpleasant. Never the pain during, always the concussion afterwards. And maybe the shattered ribcage." The mention of all that makes him rub at the medical light medical scars around his cybernetic eye. Oh my, the paparatzi. The Captain will shut up at that point.

Jane's jaw clenches, and her expression hardens momentarily; she is normally not one to take offense at having her abilities challenged, but for some reason Nikomachos' tone is perceived as flippant and dismissive, and the actress is not amused. "I'm afraid you've only seen 'The Underdark', my lord, which doesn't give you a very deep understanding of my many talents. Let us just say that I do all of my own stunts - all of them - and I work hard with my trainers for each role that requires physical exertion beyond faking an orgasm on screen." There, let him chew over that particular mental image.

With a dismissive flick of her hair over her shoulder, Jane allows her gaze to wander away from the booth and to land inevitably on Letha's familiar face. Aw shit. Press. She hastily snatches a napkin from the nearby dispenser, dabs at her mouth carefully lest any of her drink be lingering on her lips, and pinches at her cheeks to bring a bit of color into her usually pale facade. Screwing her expression up into a cheerful smile, she waits until the woman is directed toward their table.

Nikomachos blinks at the change in the actress, although he does indeed pause at the image provided, crunching hard on the celery stick. He buys himself a moment of time by pointing the end of the celery stick at Cedric, "Turrets, armor, blasters, my point exactly, Captain." He shrugs a little helplessly, then turns back to Jane, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to blame last night's drinking on that one, Miss Wyre. It wasn't an intended insult to you. It was intended as a challenge, to inspire you to prove me wrong." The quick busywork to prepare her for the arrival of the press causes him to frown quizzically, looking over in time to see the 'PRESS' badge, "Ah. Right. My apologies on the unintended insult, Miss Wyre. I'll give you the lessons you've requested, no cost." It's not like House Cindravale needs a mere thousand dollars, anyhow.

The Hostess still looks a bit uncertain about the blonde woman, but she decides that it could be worse if Miss Wyre is expecting her and Letha is turned away. So. The woman starts to lead Letha back toward where the trio has gathered, plastered with a broad smile that almost all wait staff have mastered over time. The journalist has settled into a more relaxed smile, nudging her messenger bag behind her as she strides toward them. "Miss Wyre," the Hostress trills. "You have an expected guest." And she gestures Letha into a seat amongst the others. She watches as the Hostess walks away before she turns her friendly smile on a group. "Hello, hello… Miss Wyre… did your assistant get you my message?"

There is a moment of time before Letha arrives that Jane's expression softens into something more genuine, and she shakes her head briefly at Nikomachos. "It was an unintended insult, my lord, and not an offensive 'yo momma' joke. I'm a big enough girl that I can handle your skepticism, and it certainly doesn't warrant going back on our deal. I won't hear of you doing this work for free, but I hope you're not expecting me to cry if I take a lance to the helmet." And then Letha is at the table, greeting her as if she were expected. Jane's smile tightens a degree as the actress makes a mental note to have Willow flogged mercilessly. "She did, but I will admit that I completely let it slip my mind. Please, sit, and I hope you do not mind a little company. Order whatever you'd like, on me." She slides over on her booth bench, allowing plenty of room for journalist to sit without having to actually *gasp* touch legs.

Cedric doesn't seem to have much to say at this particular moment, deciding that taking up space is about the most he can do right now. "You can't blame him, the poor man seems to of been through enough. With the drinking and the carrying on and whatnot. Positive encouragement, that's what that is." A shrug. Oh, look, let's just look at the news on his datapad, that'll be fun.

Nikomachos bows his head to Jane at her acceptance of the apology, giving Cedric a soft, amused sort of snort. When Letha arrives, he does his best to provide a charming, broad smile, although it still comes off a little sickly, "Miss." He turns that (less than perfect) practiced smile over to Jane then, laughing softly, "Are we interrupting an interview, Miss Wyre? We can absolutely move on… I would be happy to meet you in the stables beneath the Tournament Grounds after you're done here." He's not trying to start a rumor, but… he's also still thinking a bit fuzzily.

"Oh, thank you, Miss Wyre," Letha says with a brightening smile that gentle dimples. She pulls off her messenger bag, tucking it down near her feet once she has taken a seat. She actually doesn't have her tablet or stylus out, which may suggest she is here to chat rather than interview. "Hi," she says to the pair of Lords who are also with Jane. "I'm Miss Letha Vallas with Landing Life," she greets, offering a slight bow of her head in greeting before she smiles toward Jane. "And I don't mind the company." When the Waitress comes past, Letha orders a lemon water and a club sandwich — probably the cheapest things on the menu. It might be 'On Jane', but she appears to be not taking advantage of the offer. Then she looks over toward Nikomachos. "Oh! No… not an interview. I was assigned to cover what H.A.G. is up to, and I was stopping by to just… socialize with Miss Wyre." Relationship development and all that.

"Lord Captain Cedric Orelle and Lord Sir Nikomachos Cindravale," Jane offers by way of introduction, gesturing first to the staunch, uniformed man and then to the green-about-the-gills nobleman offering apologetic smiles. "We were just discussing movie work, sports, jousting - you know, all of the 'manly' topics because they very well wouldn't have a word to say about clothing design."

She half-turns toward Letha, smiling as she pulls the celery from her empty bloody mary glass and crunches the end of it contemplatively. "Mm, HAG! Of course, I remember Willow mentioning it to me now, but I think I deleted the mail. I am terrible about these things, especially when work keeps me from getting good sleep. I hope you are doing well today, Miss Vallas. The weather seems to be nice outside—oh, speaking of which…." Pausing, Jane pulls her shades from their perch (dangling along the neckline of her gown and nestled right in her bosom) and slides them across the table toward Nikomachos. "Wear these outside for now if you insist on leaving. Salt tablets don't make everything better that quickly. I can get them from you later at the stables."

Nikomachos looks down at his finely tooled clothing at Jane's jest about fashion, "And now, Miss Wyre, we're even, because I have volumes to say on the subject of fashion." He blinks a moment, then offers up his still-wan smile to Letha, "Miss Vallas, any relation to Master Christian Vallas?" He waits for the response there, nodding his interest, then looks back to Jane, just in time to have his attention drawn down front and center. It's not his fault, honestly. His sightline rises from sunglasses to eyes, and he takes the polarized lenses with another little laugh, "My thanks, Miss Wyre. I'll try to pull them off half so fashionably as you do." He nods to Cedric to get the other man to let him out of the booth, sliding out, collecting his sword and rising with a groan, "Thank you both for the help, pleasure to meet you Miss Vallas." And then the sunglasses go on, and he goes out.

"A Knight and a Captain," Letha says observantly, and she grins as her water arrives, and she uses the straw to stab the lemon down into the icy bath. "I'm doing well, Miss Wyre, thank you. I've been chasing after tournament contestants all day, so far… there was a musical competition last night," she explains. As the sunglasses are offered, she between Nikomachos and Jane curiously as she sips at her water. Then the Knight inquires on her surname, and she bobs her head. "He is my father…" She looks like she is about to pose a question, but the Knight is then on the move and it thus silences her. She instead just watches him walk away — okay, she probably really watches him walk away. She clears her throat then and returns to smiling at the remaining pair. "I recognize you, Captain… you competed in the archery event yesterday, right?"

Cedric blows out a breath at the idea of being the odd man out, but nods all the same and allows Niko his exit. Or escape, whichever word one prefers. Half-tempted to make a retreat himself, he's taken off-guard by the question. "Color me surprised." he notes, tugging at the hem of his uniform. "But I was there, yes, though I can't say that my performance was anything to write home about.

Jane smiles at Letha, listening to the explanation and finishing her stalk of celery in a rather noisy fashion - for there is no polite and quiet way to eat it. She watches and admires just as much as Letha does as Nikomachos exits the booth, flashing a tantalizing glimpse of a muscular backside, and departs the restaurant. With a quiet sigh, she returns her attention to her companions, and is startled when she hears that Cedric was a participant. "In the archery tournament, my lord? Brava! How did you fare amongst the competitors? Did you place? I was just mentioning to Nik—to Lord Nikomachos that I hadn't time yet this morning to read the news or check the tourny standings."

Letha flashes the Captain a broad grin. "You Navy folk don't show very much at tournaments, so most sit up and take notice when one decides to compete," she takes another draw from her straw as she settles back into her seat comfortably. "I did hear that a Lieutenant has decided to throw himself into the melee ring… I can't remember his name though." She rubs at her chin thoughtfully before she glances toward Jane. "He tied for third… yes, my Lord? Lord Sir Tristan Arboren won, though. Perhaps a little unsurprising…" She squeezes the mouth of her straw shut with a kind of nervous habit. "They say that your upcoming movie involves a joust, Miss Wyre… have you been doing any research with any of the competitors?"

Cedric shrugs. "I was in the area after a briefing with other ship Captains. Planetary defense, fleet organization, all very boring things." he notes. "If I hadn't been on Imperius, I probably wouldn't of bothered, but I have a knack for my crossbow all the same. I had even considered the melee as well but…I doubt I'll be about for that. My ship goes out for manuevers later today. And yes, tied for third. Like I said, nothing spectacular." Letha's knowlege about Jane's movie has him looking amused at the actress. Just a hobby indeed.

"Third! Congratulations, my lord captain, on your success at the archery competition. To be ousted by an Arboren is no big surprise, but to be competition to them - that is a feat, indeed." Jane lifts a finger to signal the waitress to approach, and she nudges her empty glass forward to be taken while placing an order for a gin and tonic. It appears the actress not only has a fondness for drink but an aversion for food as well; except for the celery, not a crumb has touched her lips today. "Mm, no, well—yes, but no? There is a jousting scene, but alas I am confined to a corset in the stands, waving my favor tearfully for my love. It is his last competition before he is called away to war, but I shan't give anything more away than these details you can catch in the trailer. No, I have not had to joust for this role - or for any, yet. I am hoping someone will pick up a script on a female knight, though. I would like to branch out a bit."

Her gaze darts sidelong to Cedric, catching his expression, and she arches an eyebrow coyly. No words are exchanged about her meeting with Nikomachos, however, and instead she turns the conversation back around onto Letha. "It sounds like your work as a journalist is exhausting, Miss Vallas. Here for HAG, there for archery, next for the melee, and there's still the tilt and the sorcery to go. Will you be present at the feast, too? I intend to make an appearance there, at the very least."

"Of course, Miss Wyre… I wouldn't dare ask for plot spoilers," Letha says with a broad smile before she finishes off her lemon water. She then shrugs her shoulders a bit. "I'm sure you could see if there's a script writer out there who would love to fashion something for you." Then she flashes a grin toward Cedric briefly before the conversation settles on her. "It is exhausting, but very rewarding." Isn't that what they all say? "I thankfully have someone else covering the tilt and melee, but I will be there for the feast. I have an interview with Saffron Williams after the show is done about some of her stylization. She has quite a stage presence."

She appears as though she is about to elaborate on that before the Hostess walks up with a holonote in hand. "Miss Vallas… this is for you." She takes the note, looks it over, and then frowns. "Ah, if you will excuse me, Captain, Miss Wyre… I need to make a call over to the Vale." And she starts to exit her seat.

"Saffron Williams - I am looking forward to the concert, very much so. She is such a darling," Jane drawls, and she gets that starry-eyed, far-off expression of someone daydreaming about fabulous adventures. With a heavy sigh, she returns to the present and flashes a brief but dazzling smile for Letha. "Good work is always exhausting but rewarding." Interrupted by the arrival of a note, Jane falls quiet. When the waitress brings about Letha's sandwich, the actress takes it upon herself to request, "I think she'll be taking that to go. Put it in a box, could you? There's a doll, thanks."

So when Letha passes the small tablet back to the hostess, Jane is aware that the journalist will be taking her leave. "Of course, breaking news never waits for one to finish their lunch. Your sandwich will be in a box at the front waiting for you, Miss Vallas. I am sorry our meeting was cut so short, but I am sure we will bump into each other at the feast. It was a pleasure to meet you at last."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License