05.01.3013: Siren's Call
Summary: Several Nobles and notable Citizens encounter one another at the Violet Siren.
Date: 01 May 2013
Related: None
Nikomachos Tristan Asher Jane Cedric Thalo Ellinor 

The Violet Siren, Westend, Imperius
The entrance into the Violet Siren gives the illusion of a squat, round building with very little character or flair. It is only when one walks through the ellipse-shaped tunnel, under the glowing black lights, do they realize that the Violet Siren is far more than it seems. The foyer is at the top level of a vast silo that tunnels underground for several stories. Its transparent-composite floors look down through the various mezzanines ringing the interior of silo all the way to the expansive dance floor at the bottom. A series of staircases hug the walls of the cylinder, leading patrons past balconies that supply seating away from the loud thumping and madness of the dance floor and a series of bars to wet ones whistle.

The entire lower level is nothing but dance floor with platforms to provide varied elevation to the bumping, grinding, and thrashing of the vigorous dancers. Scantly-clad waitresses maneuver carefully through the dancers with shotglass vials of neon-colored liquor.

01 May 3013

It's early yet at the Violet Siren, still before midnight. The music is thumping and pulsing through the various levels, but there are only a hundred or so dancers on the bottom floor, rather than the two or three hundred that are more common later in the night. Nikomachos has claimed one of the booths along the lowest balcony, and sits with arms sprawled across the back of the bench, looking out over the dance floor from the noise-cancelled-quiet of the alcove. Despite his artful sprawl, there's something a little stiff in how he sits, and he only just raises his right arm to greet the few… well… lance-chasers isn't a polite term, but then again, neither is jousting groupies… who wander up to the booth now and then.

It's not that often that Tristan is out and about in places like this, and that probably shows as the reluctant knight of house Arboren wanders through the various levels of the building, looking around at the various people present now. As usual, he has that quiet, almost thoughtful look to him as he walks, shaking his head a little bit to himself.

Amongst the young, rich, and famous of the club is the young Lord Sir Asher Khournas, licks of red light flicking along the drake and serpentine embroidery of his vest, as well as flickering flame patterns along his snug pants. The Cindravale knight catches his attention after a short while of moving through the club and he approaches, "Sir Nikomachos, good eve." He says with a polite bow of his head to the fellow knight.

The steady bass beat of the Violet Siren's music is, indeed, a siren's call for Jane. A girl can easily get lost in such a crowd, especially as the hour grows late and the writhing mass of bodies multiplies. Is there a cover charge? Not as if she'd know. The wild redhead is ready to abandon the day as she pushes her way through a cluster of people waiting in line for one of the many bars and passes onto the dancefloor. Immediately she selects a random man as a temporary partner and, with a shriek of delight, 'gets her groove on.' She is not here alone, however; her mousy personal assistant is loitering at the edge of the dancefloor looking pained and exhausted.

Niko and Asher are at a booth on one of the low-level balconies, and Tristan is wandering the Tower.

Nikomachos reaches forward to pick up a tall, fluted glass filled with some virulently neon green liquid from the table in front of him, lifting it in salute to Asher as the other knight approaches his seat. A wash of flame plays over his electro-treated jerkin, and he smirks faintly, "Sir Asher. I see we both have a taste for flames this evening." The various people lurking and dancing don't garner much of the knight's attention immediately, although something catches his eye when a red-head pushes her way past the line to the bar alongside his booth. A puzzled frown crosses his lips, but then he's turning his smile back to the Khourni knight, "Please, sit. The least I can do is manufacture a drink for those who manufacture the bases for so many of our weapons and armor." Because any Khournas work that comes to the Vale has to have some artistry added.

There's a group of Royal Navy officers sequestered up by the bar, seeming to be here for one of their member, who's wearing a plastic crown. And considering how their Captain is buying them shots, must be some kind of birthday or bachelor party for crowned officer, by his pips is a Sergeant. "Reload!" Cedric claps down his shot glass on the counter, a rapid-fire clattering of the Lieutenant and assortment of Sailors and fellow Sergeants in attendence. Upon getting another round of shot, Cedric lifts his shot. "To Sergeant Benjamin Holcomb. You have been suckered into one of the most dreadful things one human can inflict upon another human being." There's a pregnant pause, before his tone deepens. "-Marriage-. As your Captain, I offer my heartfelt congratulations and wish you years of happiness to come while at same time give my sincere condolences and will make sure to offer your new wife the best leather-made whip that I can get my hands on."

Tristan keeps on moving along now, ending up at the bar not far from where the Navy folks are. Listening to what's being said, he shakes his head a little, looking a bit amused, as he gestures to one of the barkeepers, to make sure he can order himself a drink now. Turning to glance around the area again, he smiles, a little bit.

"Indeed, Sir Niko." Asher says as he moves and sits, "I would be keenly interested in trying a drink recommended by a knight of the Vale." He agrees, as he settles into the booth, "And indeed, I find a bit of an attachment to the flames, plus it honors the foundries of my homeland." He adds with a nod. "Quite the busy night here, I take it this is quite the premiere hotspot in Landing?"

The door to the Violet Siren opens, though few might notice this from this side of the tunnel. So the entrace of Sir Thalo is likely of little note, especially since the large dark skinned man isn't exactly a common site in Landing, let alone in this sort of ummm…establishment. Thalo moves through the crowds with more grace than one might credit with a man his size, though that may be partly due to people tending to give the grim faced half giant some space. He moves off towards the bar, in search of some liquid courage it would seem, and finds himself closing in on the group of celebrating Navy men.

Ignoring the shrill (and nearly inaudible) cry of "Miss Wyre! Miss Wyre!" from her assistant, Jane hooks her mystery man with a glance before slithering back into the dancing crowd. She nearly disappears amongst the sweating bodies as she searches for the edge of the dancefloor and, stumbling over someone's misplaced foot, manages to navigate her way into the line for drinks. It might have helped that she crushed a toe or two with the heel of a boot. Rising onto her tiptoes, she flips her curls back from her face and strains to see what is causing a bit of a traffic jam—and it looks to be a bachelor party. "Of course," she mutters to herself, resting on her heels and crossing her arms over her chest. She half-turns, looking back to see if her partner is going to follow.

Nikomachos laughs lightly at Asher's words, "I just like the flames. They dance hungrily, and they are as bright as anyone could want." He leans forward from his sprawl against the back of the booth, grimacing in pain just a little as he reaches out to press the call button in the center of the table, "Two Fireballs." He slides his braided bronze bracelet over the scanner alongside the button, paying for the drinks without ever touching coin. "I wouldn't know about premiere, but it's certainly well known. From what little I've seen, it's still yet to reach full…" he searches for the right word with a slight circling gesture of one hand, "…exuberance."

Despite all the training that accompanies the title of Knighthood, a Sauveur is demanded to keep a small entourage of guards when they are out in potentially hazardous situations — particularly if said Sauveur is a woman that left her sword-belt at home. Obviously it would have clashed with the black drakescale pants that are tightly tailored to her long legs and the backless crimson tunic that shows off a smooth, pale back that is marred only by a trio of claw-mark scars that rake directly across her shoulder blades — certainly marks of pride by how they are displayed. Sir Ellinor Sauveur strides not far behind the dark-skinned newcomer on treacherously tall heels, flanked by a pair of men in simple slacks and rather nondescript violet shirts; attention seems to fall more at the holstered hand crossbows on their hips. She is already heading down the stairs toward the bar, nicely ignoring her twin shadows as she almost self-consciously adjusts her side-swept bangs and tosses the bartender a red smile.

It's not like there's some huge gathering of naval officers. More like six of the, including Cedric. And they've made sure to stay out of anyone's way who wants to get to the bar for their own drinks. The Captain seems to be the one of the group doing the least amount of drinking. He is the Captain afterall and somebody will probably need to play the DD. The female Lieutenant leans against the counter, saying something to the soon-to-be husband with the plastic crown. Whatever she says is lost in all the noise of the bar, but it makes the Sailors and Sergeants bark out laughing, followed some military jargon that is probably only understood by fellow naval-types. All those acroynms and whatnot.

"Well, it's already more exhubarant then any of the establishments in Volkan." Asher says with a laugh, "Well, perhaps I exaggerate a bit, but.." He nods, gesturing about a little. He settles back a bit more into the seat and takes in the celebrants out and about the floor, noting the readhead, and the crowd of Navy men, before noting the large man moving towards the bar and he indicates, "Sir Thalo, The Wall." He says, "A Knight-Lieutenant of Ibrahm, and I recall close to my cousins. A good man, from what I know." He says across to Niko, before raising his hand in greeting to the large knight, wether noticed or not.

Getting his drink now, Tristan turns to look around at the rest of the room rather thoughtfully. Gaze stopping on Jane for a few moments, he lifts his glass in a bit of a greeting to her, should she look in his direction, before he takes a sip of it, taking a few steps away from the bar itself to give people a good chance to get their drinks. Still looking a bit out of place, it would seem.

The Dark Skinned man comes to the bar, just down a few seats from the Navy men. A nod is offered to them, then he eyes the bartender, and offers a grunt. Nothing is quite so typical as grunting to get another man's attention. It's a primal urge, a need to convey, 'Hey you, get me some whiskey' in as few sounds as possible. The grunt doesn't get him quite that far, but it does get the bartenders attention, "Whiskey. Neat." he states in a deep gravel toned voice. After ordering, he takes a moment to start surveying his surroundings. One of the benefits of being as tall as he is, is that he can see over crowds with more ease than others. It takes a moment for him to see Asher, but as he does his gaze stops there and a nod is offered from across the room. Then he's back to surveying.

The noise and vigor coming from the bar attracts Ellinor's attention once she puts in her drink order with the bartender. She arches her brows a bit as she spies Cedric amongst the noise-makers, and she cannot help but turn that smile into a vague smirk. "My sister let you out on your own, Captain?" She asks as she accepts the slender vial of vibrant blue liquid. She looks beyond the navy boys and girls toward where that Wall has gone and also nodded some familiarity, and, thus looking beyond him, spies the Khourni and his Cindravalen company. She quickly looks away as she takes a drink from the vial, focusing on Cedric for the moment.

One of the waitresses drops off a pair of layered shots, red to orange to yellow, at the table with Asher and Nikomachos, smiling winningly in hopes of an extravagant tip. Niko gathers up one of the drinks with a smile in return, following Asher's gesture, "Doesn't surprise me… I've always heard that you Khourni were dour sorts." And then he pauses as the big man is called out, and the Valen laughs softly, "Warrior above… he's a damned giant." He raises up his drink, downing half of it and then coughing as he spots the flare of red and black that is Ellinor, "Now, you see? Sauveurs know how to party." Once more, his gaze shifts over to the almost-familiar redhead, frowning thoughtfully and pointing out Jane to his booth-mate, "You see her? I recognize her from somewhere, but I have no idea where from…"

Well how embarrassing is this? Not only does her stranger not show his face (let us assume he was trampled by rabid dancers), but it turns out Jane has been standing behind a group of people merely socializing. After realizing the bar is open, she slips neatly around the knot and makes her way toward the counter. Her gaze wanders, alighting on an unfamiliar face here and there, but Tristan's motion catches her attention. She arches a thin eyebrow, offers a smile, and sashays her toward the man. "What are you drinking?" she inquires, bypassing introductions altogether.

Asher raises his drink to meet Nikomachos', nodding his head and downing the shot in it's entirety, grimacing just a touch before laughing, "Well, you would be dour too, if you were raised in the Black Wastes." He says matter of factly, "But there is some beauty to be found, the Obsidian falls, for example. Worth visiting at least once in your lifetime." He says, his attention following Niko's, head tilting slightly as he takes in Ellinor, then the other redhead and he nods his head, "I'm not certain either, but she does strike me as familiar as well.."

"Lieutenant, you could give the latrine a dressing down with a mouth like that." Cedric muses, tilting his glass of water at the female officer. "Think a description like that is breaking more than just a few regs. But hey, considering the occasion, I might just be willing to look away." There's some chattering from the men there, and a playful wink from the Lieutenant before the Captain laughs again and sips lazily from his thankfully non-spiked water. Looking to the and eyeing Ellinor, he shrugs. "Sometimes she lets me off the leesh. And who am I to not give my blessing to one of my men. Fairly certain someone is going to make a vid-series about Sergeant Holcomb and Sailor Pearson's love affair." He glances back to the man of honor. "What was the ship she's stationed on? Right, the Edge of Night." He nods at this, looking back at the Knight. "And what about you? Shouldn't you be outside somewhere, wrestling bears or drakes as you're known to do?"

"Congratulations, Sergeant. May the Six smile on you and yours," the Sauveur knight offers to the celebrating Holcomb before she finishes off her shot and offers the glass out to the bartender for a refill. She considers Cedric's words before she casts a glance out toward the gathering masses. "Oh, I'm hunting a far easier species tonight," Ellinor offers with a quirk of her lips toward her brother-in-law. "Though I have considered taking a trip out to the Northern Mountains… against my mother's wishes of course. It is hatching season." She spies Jane amongst the crowds, also feeling as if she's seen her face somewhere before, before she looks back toward the Orelle.

Tristan shrugs a little bit as he hears that question. "What was it called again… Something Surprise, I guess it was. Tastes rather good too," he offers, offering a bit of a smile now.

Nikomachos drains off the remains of his drink, nodding his head at Asher, "Well, it would either require becoming one with the Wastes, or standing out like a flower among the ashes. Me…" one hand presses against the rippling flames of his jerkin, "…I tend toward the latter solution." And then he laughs, snapping his fingers and gesturing down toward the dancefloor and the familiar redhead speaking with the man in the nondescript clothes, "The Underdark. Hah. That's Jane Wyre." Looking back to Asher, he adds, "I suppose that this is the place to be in the Westend." He winces again as he twists to pull his swordbelt off the wall behind him and begins scooting out of the booth, "Now I just have to say hello."

"You know, that's what makes you a very terrifying woman, right?" Cedric languidly notes, back and elbows propping him against the back of the bar. "Because you seem to consider everything in aspect of a hunt." A quick scan across the quick. "So, so who's lucky, or perhaps unlucky depending on what you plan on doing, winner tonight?" The idea of eyeballing some drakes illicits a shrug out of him. "The only thing I hunt is Hostile ships around Desolation. We're still trying to figure out what happened to the Blackbird out there. Which is why the I was out there for the past few months." Another sip. "Hmmm…I guess we just have our own preference in hunting grounds." A small stretch, "But not here, at least, not for me. I'm actually surprised Lyerienne didn't show up, she knew I was going to be out here. And your parents wanted to watch the kids for a few days. Lyri seems to think Marus takes after your father."

The Wall, aka Thalo finally gets his whiskey a virtual eternity later. Or perhaps Thalo is just that impatient. Eitherway, the glare he gives the bartender seems to show his distaste in the length of time it took to get his drink. He takes up the glass, and eyes the whiskey inside. He swallows the whole pour down in a single swig and puts it back on the bartop, "Another, and fill it up this time." he orders rather than asks. With that handled he looks over to Ellinor and Cedric, a look of mild interest crossing his features, but only for a fleeting moment.

"Terrifying?" Ellinor asks, faux-affronted to the accusation that has some sense of truth to it. "Come now, Lord Captain… I am as harmless as a dragonfly." And she takes a solid gulp of her second shot of neon blue booze before she considers the married man with a shrug of her shoulders. "I haven't decided yet. Probably someone who will bore me once the buzz wears off." Then she laughs at the assessment of her nephew. "Good. There are worse men to fashion one's self after. Marus is a smart boy if he has decided to follow the quarter of his blood that runs with the fires of Khournas." She pauses a moment. "I did hear about the Blackbird though… some say that it was just a failed nav system and an aggressively pursuing asteroid."

Asher offers a slight nod and a gesture, "By all means, Sir Niko, do not let me keep you from her." he says with a laugh, the Khournas knight moving to slip from the booth once Nikomachos has departed, his attention shifting towards the bar.

"Something Surprise?" Jane laughs lightly, eyeballing Tristan's drink a moment longer before making a decision. "I'm willing to give it a try, but if it fails to please me, I'll make you pay my tab." The words are spoken in jest (hopefully), and in one fluid motion she flips her hair back over her shoulder as she turns away and closes the small gap between herself and the bar. Leaning forward, she crosses arms atop the counter and waits patiently for the bartender to notice her. "A 'Something Surprise'—whatever he's having," she orders, gesturing with a bob of her head in Tristan's direction. While waiting for her drink, she turns around to rest her back against the counter - presumably for the opportunity to people watch.

Cedric makes a lazy gesture with his hand. "Sometimes he wants to be a ship pilot. Other times, a Knight. Even other times, an architech. Those little plastic construction toys? The ones you build just about anything with? Loves them. But what I don't love? Stepping on one in the middle of the night going to the head." A snort. "You and Lyrienne are both dangerous, you're just more open about it." he comments before shaking his head on the matter of a ship. "I don't don't buy that, Lady Sir. Why would a ship be following an asteroid? Unless there was something worthwhile for it to be chased, like raw ore or something unknown. I've always considered the idea that Hostiles are building a staging ground on the larger asteroids, but we have most of those catelouged, we'd know. Unless they have something new we don't know about." Suddenly he gets punched lightly in the shoulder by the Lieutenant. "Sir, you said 'no work talk'. I thought you didn't pay attention to scuttlebutt." she grins. "I don't, I'm just….being rhetorical." She waves him off before going back to chatter with her compartiots. "I think most of the men here are going to bore you, Ellie, especially if your idea of a good time is wrestling drakes."

Nikomachos rises up to his feet, pulling the paired belts around his waist and fastening the gaudy buckle so that the arming sword hangs lightly at his side. It's not the best club accessory, but it's part of the look, and he keeps one hand on the pommel to hold the blade carefully alongside his leg and out of the way of others. Whatever else he is, he's not shy. He walks straight up to Jane, offering out his right hand, "Sir Nikomachos Cindravale." The introduction is accompanied by a confident smile, "What am I buying the famous Miss Evangeline Emril?"

"Then let us both hope it pleases you," comes Tristan's quiet reply to Jane as he takes another sip from his drink now. Then he spots Nikomachos heading over, studying the man a bit quietly for the moment, before he simply offers a bit of a nod now. Taking another sip of his drink.

From the booth he's just departed, Sir Asher is on his way towards the bar. He has no sword belt to fetch, and really no weapons visibly carried. He offers a polite nod to some of the others standing about as he sidles up, gesturing the bartender over his way.

Jane's eyes widen, but only briefly. She watches intently as Nikomachos approaches, and when he offers his hand, she slips her cool fingers over his to shake it firmly. "A pleasure, sure," she greets with a teeth-revealing smile that turns to an expression of mock horror mixed with genuine embarrassment. "Well shit, you found me out, sir. I will never escape that 'vid, no matter what I do. Tell me you didn't actually pay money to see that load of crap. If you did, I think it's me who should be buying you a drink. As it is, the lazy lout was drumming up a 'Something Surprise' whose name that gentleman" she gestures with a lift of her chin toward Tristan "could not recall." On cue, the drink arrives, and she half-turns to pick up the glass. "So, a Valen. Your people are my people, in whatever sense location of birth can unite a couple of strangers. Enjoying the party?"

Ellinor considers her brother-in-law's words for a moment, though any comment she may have is interrupted by the playful punch from one of his lieutenants. She casts him an apologetic look. "We will talk more later, Ricky… about this." She nods gently to the conversation that they will get back to at some point. Then she glances back toward the room as she finishes off the rest of her vial. As she scopes out the possibilities, her gaze falls on the Wall once more, and then beyond him Asher. Nikomachos definitely falls within her vision, but is quickly written off as he has engaged another redhead. "I suppose… I should go be dangerous." She awards Cedric's cheek a friendly peck before she finishes off her second vial. "Congrats again, Sergeant," she says beyond Cedric, casting him a red smile.

"If you can find the time, you being such a busy person and all." Cedric notes, waving off his Lieutenant. "But, I'm on leave until the Intent is refitted. Figure now is the best time and the crew would just love me more if they had some downtime before things get too hectic. And if I don't, Lyrienne won't let me hear the end of it." But he nods all the same, even going so far as returning the same gesture to his sister-in-law, giving her a peck in kind. "You know where to find me."

Nikomachos is smooth, or at least he thinks he is. When Jane proffers her hand, he turns his own palm up beneath it, bowing over the actress's hand to brush his lips over her knuckles. Straightening up again, he shrugs a little helplessly, waving his bracelet over the reader that the bartender holds out in order to pay for the drink. Tristan's nod draws his attention away for a heartbeat, and he returns the nod with a polite smile before looking back to Jane, "Private screening, actually. It was amusing," he hesitates a moment before adding with a crooked grin, "…as soon as we had a half dozen drinks in us." He nods at the connection she makes between the pair, "It has nothing on a feast following a tourney, but at least I don't hurt as badly, "one hand rises to rub at his chest a moment, "as I usually do after a tourney."

The triple of whiskey is take up as soon as it hits the bartop and downs half of it in one swig. He tosses a card on the bartop, "Wrap it up. Quick." And he finishes the whiskey while he waits for the bill to get settled. He shoves away from the bar, setting the glass down and setting a hand on the pommel of his sword, which is not worn as a fashion statement while others may be. He offers a nod to Asher, "M'lord." he offers on his way past the cousin of his lords liege. It seems he's the only man Thalo gives any deference to, others are simply moved out of the way by the presence of the man, either by force of his presence or by force of his…well forcefulness. He isn't afraid to move people out of his path. And with that, The Wall is leaving The Club.

Finishing the rest of his drink as he listens to what's being said by the nearby people, Tristan steps over to place his empty glass at the bar, unable to hold back a bit of a chuckle as he hears Nikomachos speak about not hurting as badly as after a tourney. "You know, managing to block things with a shield and such can be a good thing in the tourneys, Sir," he offers with a momentary smile.

Huh. Green eyes follow the departure of the Wall as she approaches Asher's booth, and Ellinor finds herself staring perhaps a bit longer than appropriate before her gaze alights on the Khourni. "Sir Asher," she greets companionably as she gestures to his booth. "May I join you, or are you off to find a unsuspecting woman on the dance floor?" She glances over her shoulder briefly to her brother-in-law before she focuses her gaze back on the knight.

"Sir Thalos." Asher greets with a nod of his head to The Wall as the big knight departs, he exchanges a few words with the bartender and recieves a drink after a few moments. His attention shifts briefly before he is on his way towards Cedric and Ellinor, "Sir Drakefire, how good to see you." He says as he's approached by her, flashing a smile, "And you certainly may, I had not planned to head to the dance floor yet, but if you are offering." He gestures a little. "Is the night treating you well?"

When Ellinor looks back at Cedric, he's making this flicking motion with the tips of his fingers, as if the guesture would say 'go on, I'm still here, have fun'. The Captain seems to content to lounge about his with crewmates and being a good designated driver and making sure none of them get too rowdy, even for an occasion like this.

"It has been rather uneventful so far, though I know my brother-in-law is enjoying a pre-martial celebration with some of his crew," Ellinor says as she slips into the booth, leaning her bare back against the seat as she crosses her legs with a graceful touch of femininity. "Have you met Lord Captain Cedric Orelle?" She asks, pointing out the man still at the bar.

"Private screening, of course." Jane is mightily pleased by the gentlemanly greeting, pulling her hand away almost reluctantly to link her fingers together around the base of her glass. The reference to drunken viewing, however, leaves her laughing. "Yes, I suspect most of the viewers were well into their cups! It passes the time when the plot device cannot." For a moment she is silent as the conversation turns to the mention of joust, brows knitting together as Nikomachos gestures to a recent wound. She has no chance to reply before Tristan intercedes, and she glances sideways to the man. "That is something easier said than done, and even moreso after the fact. The next tournament is not so far away, either. Are you—both keen on entering?" The question follows Jane as she moves sideways automatically, allowing Thalos his space to maneuver around their small group.

Ellinor hasn't forgotten about her guards… really… they loom. Close by.

Nikomachos laughs lightly at Tristan's commentary on his claims to bruises, "Have you jousted before then, goodman?" Evidently, Arboren knights are more difficult to spot in the wilds than their Valen counterparts. Must be the difference in shininess. Looking readily back to Jane, he laughs again, "I wouldn't miss it for all of the inner worlds, Miss Wyre." Curling his left arm in as if he were holding a shield before him, he slams his upper arm with his right hand, "The impact of lance on shield, and shield on body… it's not something one readily forgets, or willingly avoids after experiencing it." He too shifts aside from the passing Wall, giving the big man a nod as he disappears.

"I have tried it, yes. But I've always found myself being far more suited for archery." A brief pause, as he looks both to Jane and Nikomachos. "A pleasure to meet you both. I'm Sir Tristan Arboren." Another brief pause, and a bit of a smile. "I'm sure I will see you both later, but for now, I will have to depart." Another polite nod to both of them, and he starts moving through the crowd, to make his way out.

"I haven't met him no, I admit." Asher replies to Ellinor, offering a smile, "I don't find much occasion to speak with Orelle's, to be honest, but they certainly are interesting folk, I am quite interested in visiting the moons of the Ring at some point, actually."

"Alright, alright." Cedric whistles. "C'mon, we have three more bars to get to tonight and Sergeant is not as nearly as drunk as he should be. Lieutenant, find this man a strip joint. The rest of you, adjust your collars and let's get moving." While he may be a Captain, he's also the second son of Orelle, so that does entitle him to more than a generous bank account. His wallet he has a card scanned, likely paying for the majority of drinks they had. "Oh, and Ell-Tee. Next round is on you." The young Dalton makes a face. And she thought she was gong to get away with getting free booze tonight. As they're heading out, Ric clips a loose salute off to Ellinor before guiding his trope out onto the street.

"Have you not been at all?" Ellinor asks, perhaps a touch surprised. She relaxes back into the seat, regarding the Khourni across from her with a curious tilt of her chin. "I was actually just at Niveus for ice climbing," she shares quite freely with the slight quirk of a smile before she gestures for one of the passing waitresses to hand off one of the vials from her tray. She gestures for Asher to take his own pick of the glowing liquids as she sips at her seelction. She returns the salute with a raise of her glass to Ricky on his way out.

"A pleasure, Sir Tristan," Jane murmurs to the man before he departs, and returns her attention to Nikomachos. She draws one fingertip about the rim of her full glass, studying the Valen intently. Her lips part as if to continue the conversation, but the effort is stymied by the untimely arrival of her harried, red-faced assistant. "Miss Wyre! Miss Wyre! I FINALLY found you. You have four hours until make-up, and you completely skipped rehearsal with Mr. Hanson. If you don't get there on time, they will murder me. We HAVE to go now!!"

With a grimace, Jane downs her drink in one go and sets the glass atop the bar; one mustn't waste what was given freely. "What the melodramatic Allie seems to forget is that it will be my hide they skin for a throw rug. I hate to drink and dash, but work never quits - especially not now. Hmm, here." Reaching out, Jane grasps Niko's hand without warning, turning it to reveal an open palm. Into this, she slips a small plastic retangle, accompanying the gesture with a grin. "My personal number. Don't sell it to anybody." With that, she is turning about to find the exit and falling prey to Allie's next lecture.

"Oh, I've been, I spent a short time after being knighted traveling the ways." Asher replies, "But I do not often make it to the Moons of Oculus." He explains, "I make it to Ignis perhaps most of all, but largely for family business rather then pleasure." he says with a slight shrug. He reaches to accept one of the vials himself, as the waitress stops by, "I haven't spent a lot of time on Niveus, I admit, was the climbing good?"

Nikomachos shrugs helplessly at Tristan, although he nods an apology at the introduction, "Ser Tristan, then." The approach of the the assistant causes the Valen knight to arch an eyebrow curiously. Laughing, he inquires, "And here I am keeping you away from rehearsal… not that you need it, although I'm certain that… Samwell Hansen, is it? could use the practice." He starts to respond to her apology, only to have his hand grabbed. He demonstrates quite neatly that he's a tourney knight, not an actual fighter in that he has absolutely no instinctive response to the sudden movement. Folding his fingers over the card, he flicks it up between his knuckles a moment, showing it off, then responds, "Now just why would I do that, Miss Wyre? Then you might not be inclined to answer if I ring you up." Not that most comms ring anymore. "A pleasure. Do enjoy the shooting."

"It was decent… cold as fuck," Ellinor says, perhaps a bit indelicately as she takes another sip of her vial. "I would go again, but there is a chance I won't have the opportunity… before…" And she gestures offhandedly toward the nothingness beyond the ceiling, knowing it might know what she speaks of. She quirks a smile his way though before she rolls her shoulders. "I've not been to Ignis… seems a bit… hot." And she smirks.

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