(122-01-10) Geeks and Cider
Geeks and Cider
Summary: Peri Questions some linguists at the Quill. Shenanigans ensue.
Date: Date of play (10/01/122)
Related: http://gobmush.wikidot.com/log:122-01-03-leandro-s-code

Peri is settled at a table, nose deep in a book. A glass of hard cider is infront of her as she studies. She seems to visibly be thinking and actively taking notes. Her long hair is pinned up into a bun.

Camillo slides into the Quill without doing anything to draw attention to himself. The first order of business is to order a tankard of cider and thus earn himself the right to be here. This he does efficiently, paying up front.

It is late evening. Since the Night Thrush fell ill, there has been no resident musician, though various people take turns playing. Tonight a quartet is playing slightly off key from the terrace. There are a number of Acolytes sitting in sullen huddles, grumbling about Measters and drinking ale, mixed in with the usual crowd.

Peri looks at the Acolytes, taking her books over towards them, giving Camillo a smile "Pardon, friend, but, could you tell me what this word is?" she asks to an Acolyte, expression soft. A book on Westerosi Common to High Valyrian. Her notations in a separate journal are in Lyseni dialect low Valyrian. Her eyes dart to Camillo as she offers a dazzling smile.

Camillo recognizes Peri, surely, but he lifts his brows a little, that she should think to smile his way. He hangs back a moment, considering both Peri and her company.

"Apple Cider" Is bellowed upon entrance, ducking his head through the door, the massive bastard knight, Willum, steps into the tavern, followed closely by his loyal squire, boy. Willum moves toward a seat, removing his bastard sword and handing it off to his squire. "Spit and polish that, boy." Willum groans and sits back in his seat, rubbing at his head.

The Acolytes look up startled. They are in their late teens or early twenties at most. There are three of them at this table. One of them openly takes in Peri's dangerous curves and gives her what he likely thinks is a charming grin, "Why are you worrying your pretty head about a dead language? Come drink with us." A second glares at him and likely kicks him under the table and leans over to look at the book. He furrows his brow, "What's the word for it, that thing on top of the.. pointy bit on a building, or the fancy doodads in the corners of room or on top of pillars…" The third student gives him a confused look, "Finial, maybe?" The second student nods, "I think finial is as close as we can get."

Peri blinks "Because I enjoy learning." she offers with a grin. "It may be dead but it permeates to this day, and it .. is important to know things, yes?" she offers, smiling warmly. She shakes her head "No, thank you, it would be inappropriate and mar your reputations possibly." She takes a moment, setting a gold dragon down "For your drinks for the night - as I am in debted to your kindness." She writes her note in her journal, smiling deviously "Also, I should always keep learning, if my mind is dazzling then I'll still be interesting when my body fades." she offers with a slight giggle. She heads to Camillo curiously. "Hello. Would you like to help me study a bit perhaps?" she asks, in a slightly suspicious manner.

Camillo drops his gaze to his mug when Peri approaches. "I'm afraid I am no scholar," he answers softly. "But where does your text come from?"

The squire takes Willum's sword and pulls a rag from inside a pouch at his belt. With a hacking sound the squire spits a glob of phlem on the sword. Willum groans in annoyance when the snot loogy lands on his sword. "Do. you. ever. THINK?!" Willum growls in a resounding tone. Willum's squire freezes and just sits there with the sword in his lap and the rag in his hand. "You…you said spit shine?" This causes the bastard knight to rub a bit more vigorously at his crushed skull. "I am tempted to knight you, just to be rid of your company." Willum takes the cider that was brought to his table and takes a big swallow, half of which dribbles from the crushed side of his mouth, whereupon he wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. His squire perks up and has a big smile. "You are knighting me??"

Cut rate Casanova widens his grin, "We love learning too. Indeed I'm curious about _all_ sorts of things." He waggles his eyebrows. he looks wildly disappointed as she clearly is going to go. The Helpful One smiles shyly, "There are no Maesters here and I thing you'd be good for our reputation in the dorm, and we really don't mind helping." The quiet one asks, "Why are you interested in finials?" But then she is gone and Cute rate and helpful are watching her leave like men watching the last boat sail away from a desert island, and looking on Camillo with frank envy. Quiet's head is down and he is drawing a curly cue in some spilled beer.

A nearby student nudges his friend at the goings on at Ser Willum's table and the second Acolyte snorts at the Squire's question.

Sullen moods or no, Hawke saunters in like he owns the damn place. He's probably already had one or two, knowing him, and the pirate gives a crooked and utterly amused grin upon overhearing Willum and the squire's exchange - but, instead of heading thataway, he passes by the bar long enough to get an ale before wandering over Peri-wards. "Fancy seein' you here."

Peri hms? "The book merchant by the harbor. Would you like to read it?" she asks, curiously "Mm its okay, its nice to have compa-.. gosh." she looks over at Willum and the squire, giving a terribly amused smile in that direction. She reaches to set the book down beside Camillo "Westerosi is so clunky to work into Valyrian." she pauses "They are describing accent markers for Valyrian to be like Finials I guess. Or assuming it'd be a relevant word for me. Friends." she offers to the acolytes, without much warning taking a moment to shove Camillo's table a liiiitttle closer. She eyes the Acolytes "Don't you dare laugh at that man or that bumbler. Or I'll mock all of you right here." she hisses in warning "They are both brave and hardworking." her mother's tone audible as she shifts a bit. She blinks at Hawke "Hello Captain. How does the wind find you today?" she asks, curiously, standing to reach and pat Hawke on the back "Sit. I'm studying, but you can finish my cider for me, yes?"

Camillo casts one uneasy glance in Willum's direction, but no more. Then he looks to Peri. "I speak only common language," he tells her. "I won't be much help. I am lucky to have my letters at all.""

"If you weren't so damn good with weapons, I'd consider breaking your arms and legs and having you sit with that group over there, dreaming of accomplishing something with your life." He motions to the group at the table that are eyeing… oh its Peri. Willum suddenly notices Peri and straightens up a bit. "You'd best polish that sword quick, if there is any of your snot nuggets left on that blade, I'll shove it up your arse." He pulls a vial from a belt pouch and drinks it down. Willum's squire, boy,looks down at the drying phlegm and discreetly spits on the blade again, looking out of the corner of his eye to see if Willum notices, but its at that time Peri caught his attention, so the squire is saved another butt chewing and quickly begins polishing the well made bastard sword.

That perennial cliche, a man with a long cloak with the hood up arrives, hunched over. His furtive attempts not to be noticed make him all the more visible. He whispers an order for a small ale and peers about the room.

Somewhere in the back an elderly man in drab clothes sighs and rolls his eyes, lifting his own tankard for the attention of one of the women serving. He tries to smooth his wispy white bits of hair down and gives her a toothless smile.

The acolytes perk up as the curvy woman and her friend seem interested in including them after all. Helpful says enthusiastically, "Ah! That makes sense. The accent markers don't just tell you how to pronounce the vowels, but what inflection to use. You must be looking at an older text. High Valyrian as it was spoken the last thousand years or so is more like Common. The inflexion system is archaic. Really Old high Valyrian sounded almost like the chanting they do in the Sept. The rises and falls of the voice changed the meaning." Cute rate rolls his eyes at the linguistic nerdiness on display, "Lets not bore the lovely lady with your research Pyne." Quiet gives cute rate a dubious look, then in a very nice tenor slowly chants a bit of high Valyrian poetry, exaggerating the musicality of it and tracing the accent marks in spilled ale in illustration. "See? this finial says to go up in pitch and this one tells you to drop by a half and this by a whole tone. It's a beautiful language, really." He blushes and hides his face in his tankard. Cute rate's face falls as the dashing Captain turns up. No way can he compete with that, given acne and a shortage of chin. Then cute rate is snerking, "Polishing his sword is all he'll be doing tonight, I'll bet."

Hawke's brows furrow. "Studyin' in a—why?" Yes, this whole concept of 'learning things' when one could be 'drinking things' is a bit of a stretch for him, but, lo, free booze! "Not drunk enough for how late it is, but I s'pose that'll help things out." The acolytes, Camillo — all are eyed, and the mouthy one is snorted at, amused. "Wouldn't be castin' stones there, mate, what are your plans tonight?" It doesn't seem so much of a defense of the squire - the pirate doesn't even look in his direction - as a dig at the comment, but then he's casting a dubious eye back to Peri and all. "Studyin' what?"

Camillo looks the way of the hooded man for a moment, then returns his attention to Peri. Camillo does return Hawke's gaze for a moment, but there's nothing of challenge in his expression.

Peri considers a bit "Lysene has many accents, and the man who sold the tome said I'd better understand old Valyrian with accent markers. I mispronounce common all the time in little ways." her vowels. She does strange things with her accent and vowels - but they come out acceptably attractive. She smiles "We have accent aigu, grave, circonflexe, tremas, cedille…" she muses, "I was also studying.. ah.. Here." She opens her journal to a drawing of a red lily with notes. Medical notes! "I was studying this herb and I realized it'd be easier to learn if I learned Valyrian." she admits, smiling to Camillo. She eyes Hawke "I was considering kicking your arse, I was looking for someone smarter than me - accomplished!, I was considering seeing if my new gown will get me fined for public.." she eyes the acolytes "Is it nudity or lewdity?" she asks, innocently blinking down at Hawke, taking his hand to pull up and kiss "Sit down, get drunk, watch me read and make fun of me if I end up falling asleep in my book." she offers grinning, giving Willum a wave as she settles down. "Dragon Root. I am going to start learning herbs proper. The hooded man catches her attention and gaze, yes half open. She's knitting her brows.

Willum has his cider refilled and then at the comment from the acolytes, Willum glances to them. "Why are you listening to my conversation?" He asks this in a relatively neutral tone, but a man the size of Willum doesn't generally get by with neutral, its often taken as negative. Willum's squire looks up from his work and seems a bit surprised as it almost seems as if Willum were standing up for him, and then the Pirate seems to do the same. Willum's squire seems to perk up at the attention, maybe Peri will even end up nude and his night will be perfect. Willum offers a nod to Peri, but she seems busy with Hawke, so he turns his attention back to the cider.

Mouthy glares at Hawke, but snaps his mouth shut, having at least that much sense. He sullenly drinks his ale. Pyne nods enthusiastically, "having all those accents in your native language will really help you out if you are studying high Valyrian, since it still has all those. It's just the really old stuff has the inflexions and a few extra letters and the grammar's… weird. E#verything in a sentence or a paragraph sort of modifies everything else. Words and phrases change based on relationships. The more modern stuff is way easier to read, since it's so much more like they still speak in Essos. I guess a language can change a lot in 5000 years…" The picture of the lily draws Quiet's attention. "Weird. There's some carvings like that in the decorations at the hightower." He blushes, "Not that I've been inside, but you can see some in the stonework around the base mixed in with a bunch of other things…..

The hooded man spots wispy hair and slinks over to sit with him. Wispy hair literally facepalms and says several tart things too soft to hear over the increasingly buzzed and therefore noisy crowd.

Willum's rebuke makes all three acolytes visibly shrink in their robes, even though Quiet in particular hadn't been paying attention at all and it was really all Mouthy's fault.

Hawke gives Camillo a grin, crooked, and then touches Peri's cheek with his fingers at the kiss to his hand, plunking himself down in a seat gracelessly. "Kick my ass Whyever for? I'm just enjoyin' the company." So lackadaisical, though he's eyeing the papers and whatnot with a look someone else may give a gift basket of scorpions, and he's paying enough attention to side-eye the interaction between the hooded man and the balding wonder, though he doesn't seem terribly concerned.

Camillo glances at Peri's book. "I know a little something of herbs," he mentions. He quietly keeps an eye on each of the groups: the hooded man and the wispy haired man, Willum and his squire, the acolytes, Peri and Hawke. He isn't overly obtrusive about it, but from time to time checks in visually with each.

Peri watches Hawke "Because I need more time working my body and working out and you would make it fun." she offers with a soft chuckle. She watches the groups, thoughtfully "I.. am learning. I need to keep my body and mind sharp, or I'll get dragged to my death." she admits, watching Willum now "Do you know anything of it, Camillo?" she asks, curiously. She watches Pyne, smiling "You are most helpful, my friend." she offers, bouncing a bit in her seat, long hair bobbing.

Willum seems pleased at the reaction without yelling from the acolytes, his face generally is enough to put a dose of fear into most. Willum stands up with a groan, glances at the polished sword. "If you polish it too much you might just polish the metal away." Willum seems to get perverse pleasure in putting the fear of failure into his squire's head. Willum, whilst standing looks over toward the hooded and balding guys, curious, and then his attention moves back to Hawke, Peri and Camillo. "What're we doin over here?" Willum asks, taking a couple steps in their direction.

Camillo looks at the plant for a long moment. "I know it can make a body sick," he replies. "But so many things can. But this is a strange plant to start your study of herbs with," he says, looking to Peri's face.

Hawke grins an entirely cheeky grin at Peri's comment, perhaps wisely declining to comment. As Willum heads over, though, the Greyjoy shrugs a shoulder as he takes a swallow of his beer. "You tell me, mate, I'm just enjoyin' the booze."

Mouthy flees in outright terror as Ser Willum approaches, knocking over his chair in the process. Pyne looks like he'd like to do the same, but torn between terror and his chance to impress a curvaceous foreign beauty, his little head over rules his big head. Quiet just keeps his head down, looking even more like a turtle than before. Pyne looks openly curious about the exchange between Peri and Camillo, but doesn't want to expose his ignorance by asking about the plant

Wispy is trying very hard to be patient with his idiot companion, but it is obvious he is close to losing his temper.

Peri smiles to Camillo "It is not the first one I've ever touched. I have more knowledge with standard medical herbs." she offers, standing up to curtsey to Willum politely "Ser Willum. Well Captain Hawke is leeching. They are leering.." she gestures at the acolytes. "And Camillo here, is very helpfully assisting me in something." she offers, she is side eying Wispy something fierce. She smiles to Pyne, offering him a genuine smile. She rests her hand on Hawke's shoulder for a moment, sliding back into her chair, legs folding "It is .. a scary herb, yes. It has relevancy to something important I am somewhat investigating." she offers with a grin to Camillo

Camillo grunts faintly as he nods, looking back down to the page again. "You have seen it in another text, perhaps," he hazards.

Willum is wearing a rose pin on his left shoulder, something that seems to be at odds with the rest of his wilted rose clothing. Despite this, he seems to wear the rose on his shoulder with a bit of pride. Willum offers a glance at the acolytes that scared themselves into a disappearing act, his glance takes in Hawke again. "Tried the cider?" he asks, not bothering to see what the man is drinking. "Im not a cider drinker, but this place has it figured out." Willum takes a seat nearer Hawke than Peri, both himself and the seat groan upon his settling into it. "Who's the hooded guy?" Willum, jabs a finger in the direction of the two.

Quiet blushes bright red at the implication that he might have been leering improperly at a lady and looks like he wants to sink under the table. Pyne winks at Peri on the off chance.

Hawke tips his beer up at the implication that he's 'leeching'; yup, indeed, and cheerfully so. "Naw, not yet, though she apparently left me half o' hers," he says, tipping the beer haphazardly toward the cup of cider that Peri left him. The question, though, has him glancing over toward hooded-guy, and he shrugs a shoulder. "Fuck if I know," he says, indelicate. "Why?"

Peri is quiet "I've seen it in person, actually, as a child north of either Astapor or Yunkai." she admits, eyes soft "it grows as a weed there. I found some in a local market, I bought it and turned it over to a maester for his studies, and I've seen it in a book in Lyseni." She rubs a spot under her dress for a moment, as if the memory has caused discomfort today. Likely over her actual owner specific mark. "Not the faintest, ser." she offers to Willum, honestly. "I like the meade here as well. It is nice cider though, I would agree ser." she gestures at the waitress smiling and gesturing for another round on her. Her cheeks are pink at Pyne's wink. She eyes Hawke, a bit sharply but ends up laughing softly. "I'm going abalone hunting in the morning, Want to captain the Dinghy and spot me while I dive?" she asks towards Hawke curiously. expression serious. Oh yes, she's going to pearl dive.

Willum just shrugs in response. "Was just curious." Willum gives a slight groan. "I think im going for a soak." Willum stands after his short stint at attempted conversation with strangers. Willum waves a hand at his squire. "Boy, come."

Camillo narrows his eyes thoughtfully at Peri's story. "I have not come across it growing, so I think it must not grow in these parts," he says. Others may notice that he greatly neglects his cider.

Hawke shrugs a shoulder. "I'm not too familiar with this place, he could be a regular for all I figure. An' sure, Peri, just let me know when you're goin' out." He takes a drink, and then his brows raise high; he cuts a look toward Pyne with a grin that looks like the goddamned cat that ate the canary. "Mate," he says, cheeky as all hell, "I think you're pawin' at the wrong tree. Not that I'm not flattered."

Peri takes a wooden coin from her bosom, offering it up to Willum "Go, on me, please be safe and well ser. If you participate tomorrow be careful and do well, yes?" she offers with a bright smile. She seems entirely relaxed. "No, only in Essos, Camillo." she nearly purrs. She smiles to Willum "I hope your squire is good to you, ser." she eyes the squire, slipping him a bath token. The tokens are permanent VIP tokens that will get both men into the luxury treatments without a reservation. She glances down, snorting slightly at Hawke's luck "Aren't you popular.." she teases softly, expression down right merry.

Willum glances between Peri and Hawke, raising a brow but not commenting. At the wooden token, he smiles and hands his back, but lets his squire keep the one offered to him. "I can pay my own way." And with that, Willum heads toward the door, ducking his head on his way out.

Willum leaves the Quill and Tankard and crosses the little bridge from the door to the street.

Camillo looks between Hawkw and Pyne for a moment, having missed their exchange while trying to eavesdrop on the hooded man and pay attention to Peri all at once. But then he nods again at her flower. "Perhaps one day you can teach me of flowers that grow farther afield."

Some papers are exchanged between cloak and wispy and wispy waves cloak off so he might enjoy his ale in peace.

Pyne jumps half a foot at Hawke's address to him, then draws himself up to try to look all haughty and dignified, "I have no idea what you are talking about, Captain."

"Always," Hawke says with a little wink towards Peri, and the reaction from Pyne makes him laugh. "Sit up any straighter'n your spine'll snap for th'effort," he advises, and then casts an eye toward the hoodie and wispy as they separate.

Peri smiles a bit "Aye, sure. Maybe sometime soon. Bryn mentioned you by name." she offers to Camillo "Are you well?" she asks, curiously. Her long fingers reach to pet Hawke's shoulder as she shifts her leg, to show Pyne her calf, the tattoos showing. She rubs her foot along Hawke's calf, showing a teasy gesture, eyes half lidded as she smiles at Pyne "I'm not worth it, you know?" she asks, smiling warmly.

Hood stalks out with a disgruntled air and his papers tucked away. Wispy seems relaxed and in no hurry, amused by the follies of youth.

Pyne looks utterly mortified. He nudges Quiet, who has been happily sucking down ale on Peri's coin at the rate only a student offered free drinks can. He peers owlishly at his friend, having entirely lost the thread of the discussion. "Huh?" Pyne says slowly and clearly, "Time. To. Go." Quiet blinks at him some more, and says very loudly and belligerently, "Haven't finished my drink!"

Camillo lifts his eyebrows at Peri. "Well? Certainly. And lucky enough to get through all the trouble without falling ill." By which of course he means the plague. If he notices Peri's familiarity with Hawke, he pretends he doesn't.

Oh, that grin that Hawke sends Peri is so self-satisfied, so just pleased with life. His life is a good one, and filled with things that please him so. He leans into the touch just a bit, a subtle shift, and he angles that cheeky grin over toward Pyne. "Shame, we were just gettin' comfortable."

Peri smiles to Camillo "I'm glad, I was worried, your skin is so pale, and you look so delicate at times." She offers, tucking her feet under her chair, eyelashes fluttering at Pyne "Goodbye my pet." she whispers in her terribly vulgar, husky Lyseni. Her weight leaning on the table. "Bryn had a dream about Dragon root. It worried me. So I am studying."

"Delicate?" Camillo echoes, brows lofting. He shakes his head slowly. "Oh no, not I." He finishes off his cider that he's been nursing all this time and stands. "I ought not to be late for my duties," he murmurs, nodding at Peri and Hawke.

Pyne looks flustered and confused now, looking rapidly between the pirate and the Bath house owner. He stands and tries to tug his friend to his feet. The friend is not cooperating. Instead, he stubbornly keeps trying to get as much ale inside his skin as he can get away with. Pyne casts a pleading look at camillo as he is the only one of them he has any hopes of finding an ally in.

Peri watches Camillo "Dear.. Do you need work?" she asks, quietly. "It isn't much, but I can always use another man protecting my baths or my home and can pay you coin on a daily basis or weekly. I can provide you a home, and my baths and home allow religious considerations." She offers, honestly. Apparently Bryn liking Camillo is enough for Peri. She seems less flirty and more straightforward.

Hawke snickers at that whole exchange, taking a hefty swallow of his beer and lounging back in his chair as Peri and Camillo talk businessy things. "Loosen up, mate, it'll get y'further in life," he muses, more amused than anything.

Camillo shakes his head quickly. "No, I have employment now. With the Hightowers." He says this quietly, and while he notices Pyne's look his way, he simply looks back blankly. Apparently the young fellow will get no help from him tonight. "But you are kind," he thinks to add to Peri, and bobs his head. "I will come by the bath house one day soon." Promising that, he slips out.

Camillo leaves the Quill and Tankard and crosses the little bridge from the door to the street.

Quiet gives an ominous burp, then starts to sing loudly and not nearly as prettily as earlier, what with him sucking down so much ale. It is a song in high Valyrian, with some very very vulgar words a low Valyrian speaker would recognize despite the funny accent. Pyne is frantic now, blushing to his ears and completely unable to budge his green about the gills friend.

Peri is gentle watching Camillo head out "I'd of paid him a dragon and four stags a week." she offers honestly. She rubs her arm along Hawke's back now, watching curiously.at the group nearby. She listens curiously, her legs folding. She watches the singer, listening to the song curiously. She stands up, moving to press a hand on each of Pyne's shoulders, rubbing there with her large mitts. "Calm down. I was teasing you. I deeply apologize for embarrassing you." she whispers, bowing her head humbly.

Hawke gives a low whistle. "Well. Maybe he'll come back around," he muses, finishing off the ale and setting the cup on the counter. He shuts up, though, to watch Pyne's reaction, mostly amused.

Pyne shivers excitedly under her touch. A shapely older woman is touching him! With her hands!" He lets go his friend's arm. Quiet sways happily trying to pronounce the words with an ale thick tongue, having lost all bashfulness at the bottom of his cup. The remaining acolytes at other tables are eyeing him. Those who are Valyrian scholars are laughing out right because the song is really funny in a completely obscene way. Wispy looks amused in a way that suggests he too, might be a linguist.

Peri blinks at Pyne, cheeks red, her expression a bit embarrassed. She seems curious about the song, following it "Hawke, the lads are putting you to shame with this one." she teases, She leans, kissing Pyne on the forehead and shifting to Hawke, offering her hands for dancing, grin showing.

Hawke laughs. "Y'gonna share what it's about?" he grins, and then easily steps up to the offer. He's not the world's best dancer ever, but lord knows he's got absolutely no shame in pretty much anything he does.

Peri leans to whisper into Hawke's ear, grinning the whole while. She's translating, and dancing with Hawke, she's not terribly good, but she's got grace and a good deal of teasing antics to her movements and is having a good time.

Pyne gives her a look half adoration and half lust. His face falls again when she goes to dance with Hawke. His eyes lingering longingly at her cleavage. Quiet bellows on in is off key tenor. The song is all exaggeration and dirty allegory and puns, so, so many puns. Seaman about the good ship vagina and their rollicking bisexual adventures as they sail about in search of booty.

Camillo comes out of the Quill and Tankard and crosses the little bridge from the island where the famous inn stands.

Hood hasn't the sense to hide his direction, trusting in people not being able to see his face to keep him anonymous. he is nearly out of sight, but a fast moving spider will easily spot him striding angrily towards the Citidal bridge.

Camillo tails Hood at a good distance to avoid catching his notice. Luckily the way the man is moving, with his distinctive garb this evening, make him an easy target to pick up.

Stealth isn't really necessary. The man never looks back. If one gets close enough, he might be heard muttering some very rude things indeed about disrespectful Septons.

Camillo keeps on the man's tail in the event that he might see a face or learn the room he ultimately goes to.

He's head towards the Maester's hall, down the wing where the full Measters in residence have their cells.

Camillo of course does not follow him into the building, but he waits outside to see whether he can see a light brought into any room.

There are a number of lights still on, but a flickering candle light appears in one. Likely, that's the one you want.

Camillo makes a mental note of where it is until he can go home and mark it down. He departs then.

Hawke is more sure on his feet than actually good at dancing - one doesn't get exactly a lot of practice at it on a boat - but he laughs at the translated words. "I think that gives me a new appreciation for other languages," he grins, stepping through a few steps and keeping it far from flashy. He leans in, eyes bright, and murmurs in her ear: "I think you've got him all in a twist."

Peri 's gown makes a slight rip, her gown ripping slightly at the hip "Now gentle, gentle." she offers, laughing a bit as she arches along with Hawke, she seems to use more combat steps than actual dance. She's having a ball "Should I switch partners and see if I can get him to come to port without taking my clothes off?" she whispers to Hawke with a soft snicker.

Hawke just grins, rakish, and the reminder to be gentle, and he casts an eye sideways. He looks so, so amused, eyes bright, and gives Peri a wink. "I think I'm goin' to get another drink, why don't y'give him some fun?"

As Quiet keeps pausing to drink, the Valyrian tends to get mangled a bit, leading to a certain amount of nonsense creeping in without him noticing. Pyne is sitting again with his legs crossed watching Peri wide eyed with an expression that suggests he's afraid to stand up right now.

Peri holds her hands out to Pyne "Come on, lets dance, we're here to relax, yes?" she asks, swaying her hips and pouting, singing along with the song in low Valyrian - it isn't pretty, she's not a singer at all, but she does at least have a pretty face!

Hawke grins as Peri goes over to Pyne; he drifts back to snag a drink and half-heartedly flirt with some serving gal, but his attention is definitely, definitely more on the dance floor.

Pyne is rather flushed and not entirely sober himself. Still, the woman of his (future) dreams is offering him a dance and no robe tent is stopping him. Up he goes and into her arms with no clear idea of what the steps are, but all the enthusiasm of a twenty year old virgin with his first chance at maybe getting some if he plays his cards right. he has the athletic ability of a man who spends all day studying.

Peri is quick to sway, her arms swaying as she holds the young man's hands. She seems amused, weight swaying. Her lips are pursed as she gets soft eyed. She sways, her long legs make the dance awkward.

Pynes hands are sweaty. He struggles mightily to drag his eyes away from her cleavage to her face. his eyes bounce back down every time he loses the battle. He is at least a foot shorter than her which only makes the temptation worse. He is gawky; he is terrified; he is pitching a tent so hard he's having trouble moving his legs smoothly.

Peri is trying to dance chastely with poor Pynes the acolyte and expert tent pitcher, she's moving gracefully to the lewd garbled Valyrian song being sung loudly. She seems amused and for the most part trying to have an air of grace - you know for a semi-fat giantess a foot taller than the acolyte.

It is getting late. The band have long packed off home and the remaining crowd is well lubricated. An extremely drunken Acolyte, having had someone pay for his whole night's drink is slurring out an increasingly nonsensical, extremely filthy song in high Valyrian of exactly the kind very geeky students have always written in dead languages. He is mostly slumped over his tankard.

The skinny acolyte Pyne stumbles face first into Peri's bosom, being not really sober himself and hypnotized by those pillowy orbs bouncing so close to his nose. The trembling and sweaty acolyte gives a shriek of mortified alarm and tries clumsily to pull back and apologize. he looks like a startled rabbit, "I, I, I didn't mean… so sorry! Ack!"

It is a bizarre hour for an unmarried woman of Visenya's status to enter the Quill and Tankard. However, some would note that Visenya is a bizarre woman herself. She wears one of her delectable gowns, this one sewn with silver and gold thread to mimic flames at the hem. She draws stares from the remaining drunk patrons, but she pays them no mind. Visenya is used to stares.

What she is not used to is poorly sung Valyrian. With a wrinkle of her nose the Princess of Westeros approaches the drunk Acolyte, taps his shoulders, and asks, "May I?"

Peri makes this noise. This startled awful noise at having a face in her cleavage "That uh.. is not yours my friend." she offers to Pyne, tactfully. She blinks at Visenya. Her low Valyrian is spotless, she just isn't much of a singer. She's stone cold sober! She watches Visenya "Do you wish to dance with him or I, Princess?" she asks, a little unsure of the etiquette in this situation. She seems calm to still the lad. "Poor dear." she coos at Pyne. "Are you sad Hawke is drinking now?" she teases.

Speaking of Hawke, he's pretty much dying over by the bar, trying not to laugh so hard that his poor healing ribs hurt. Poor, poor Pyne.

The Singing Acolyte is bobble headed drunk and there is a long pause between her tapping his shoulder and him trailing off as he realizes someone might be talking to him. He squints up at her, then goes slack jawed in alarm as he figures out that a Princess might be addressing him. He attempts to stand as is fitting, and pitches face forward on to the table, knocking over two half full tankards and flailing about wildly in alarm and confusion.

Pyne's looks wide eyed between the two women, clearly not up to this much female interest and tries desperately to hide the groin area of his robes with both hands. he whispers, "I must be asleep. Please tell me I'm asleep."

It is getting late. The band have long packed off home and the remaining crowd is well lubricated. An extremely drunken Acolyte, having had someone pay for his whole night's drink is trying to come to terms with a Princess being there, mostly by attempting to swim in a pool of spilled ale after landing face first on a table. Pyne, a rather tipsy acolyte is looking in terrified alarm between Peri and the Princess Visenya, trying to hide the tent in his robes with his hands

"Ugh. How pitiful." Visenya says under her breath as the Acolyte falls face forward into the table. Gathering her skirts up, she steps over the poor fallen man to stand where he once was. Pursing her lips, the Princess thinks on it a moment before she begins singing a light fast-paced song in high Valyrian. Her voice is good, if untrained. There's a bell-like quality. At any rate, she's better at it than the Acolyte.

A Dornishman appears from the rooms upstairs, remaining on the staircase for a moment to enjoy a better view of proceedings. He spots a few familiar faces, some unfamiliar faces and … a princess. A singing princess. Elyas can't resist clapping his hands in a round of slow applause as he approaches the small group. "Who'd knew this place had such wonderful entertainers.", he remarks, "People are literally swooning at your performance…."

Peri squints at the Dornishman. Her weight bobs away from Pyne, her hands smoothing her hair down as she tugs her dress up, making sure she's decent as she stretches herself a bit, eyes half closed as she picks up her cider, taking along draw as she closes her books and tucks them into her leather bag quietly.

"And how do you know I am a Princess?" Visenya asks, her amethyst colored eyes turning onto the Dornishman as he makes his appearance. "Perhaps I am a courtesan from Lys who is overly fond of flame motifs?" She puts her hand on her chest, and lets out a little laugh, "Oh, I remember you! You were that sailor." She steps over the fallen Acolyte again, the train of her gown pulling over the man. "Did you not go to King's Landing and seek out the Master of Ships?" She tsks, "Fortune favors the bold, Master Sailor."

The flailing acolyte gives up the struggle and passes out. It is likely for the best. Slowly, he slides under the table.

His embarrassed compatriot, who is also a linguist looks back and forth between the women. he is scrawny, about twenty, and a foot or so shorter than Peri. he looks between the woman. He gives a strangled croak, clears his throat and tries again. His voice is rather full and deep for such a scrawny fellow. He comes in at the choruses, a not entirely shabby support for the bell like princess' voice. As it turns out, he really does know his high Valyrian even if his voice is nothing to write sonnets over. His eyes flick back and forth between the women unsure of what he should do at this point and pretty sure he can see his chance of losing his virginity fading by the second, his voice trailing off as the Princess addresses the Dornishman and the scholarly and curvaceous Lysene seems to be fleeing as well.

"Who could ever forget the beauty of your face, Princess Visenya?", Elyas smiles at the woman, "I was planning to leave, but then I was offered employment here in Oldtown which was impossible to resist. So fortune brings me into your path once again. Although not for long, I'm afraid, I must move on" Good news for the scrawny acolyte perhaps? He takes notice of Peri then and offers her a nod and a smile. "I hope you made it home safely the other day, Mistress."

Seeing the hubbub attendant on the arrival of the Princess and the collapse of the Singing Acolyte, a certain wispy haired mostly baldy, mostly toothless old codger pays for his cider and slips out, unobtrusive in his dress and demeanor.

Peri is quiet for a long moment "Because Lysene people generally do not send their pretty women so far from home, princess." she offers, voice soft as she addresses Visenya before she offers Pyne a seat, tapping it as she smiles. "Yes I made it home perfectly safe, and I assure you, I'll not be back to your mistress' home, so you need not fear or flee Old Towne so quickly." she offers at Elyas, tone flat. Neither welcoming or friendly like normal, she's quiet taking a few more moments to put her studying items away. She takes out a pair of slippers from her bag, bending to put them on carefully with a sound of complaint escaping. She does not seem to like Elyas. "Lovely scholar, I should be home at this hour, do you need walked back to your lodging?" she asks, towards Pyne, cordially offering an escort.

"I'm glad for you, Master Sailor." Visenya says with some sincerity. "If you are in need of work I probably cannot help you." A pause as her lips twitch open, "But Prince Rhaegor is envoy to the King, and a dear friend of mine. I might be able to manage an introduction for you." That said, she picks up her skirts up to walk towards the bar. When Peri addresses her she says, "You. You saved me." A pause, "You know one of them hatched. Come and see them if you'd like."

Elyas doesn't seem to be too put out by Peri's reaction, he just smiles. "I have no plans to leave Oldtown anytime soon, Mistress. And thank you very much, Princess, that is very kind of you." His smile warms several degrees when he looks at Visenya again, "Right now I am rather full-time employed, but should the need arise, I will be happy to take advantage of your kind offer."

Pyne sits down hard where he's told to and peers up at Peri's pillows of delight like a drowning man tossed a float. The subtext between the real adults is beyond him. His tankard being overturned, he grabs the nearest unattended one to sip for comfort. The import of Peri's question penetrates the bafflement and hormone haze. He jumps up again, all clumsy eagerness. "Yes! I would love to escort you!" His drunken friend entirely forgotten in his rush to misunderstand Peri, his is gallantly offering her his arm and puffing out his chest in the hope it will make him look more muscular.

Peri is quiet "If it is permissible, next time I bring my little one to visit Prince Dhraegon if you are not busy, highness." she offers, bowing her head. "Only one hatched? Congratulations and my sympathies, princess." she offers to Visenya, doing a proper curtsy. She pauses to look at Pyne, bursting out in a genuinely amused laugh, her fingers petting Pyne's hair "I'm too old for you, you know. You'd do better with a younger lass." she offers honestly. "Someone … tamer, perhaps." she hefts her heavy bag, putting it on her shoulder.

Pyne looks at Peri all goggled eyed, "Let me learn at your feet, Mistress?" So much hope, so little chance. Or suave. No suave at all.

"You've a babe? How lovely." Visenya says to Peri. "Yes, do please come. And yes, but the other one is fine. It simply wasn't ready." She laughs at Pyne, and says in a pretty voice, "Perhaps you should learn to be less pathetic or gain the coin to pay for your women, Acolyte?"

As the talk moves to babies and hatchlings, Elyas decides it's time to FLEE.

Pyne visibly wilts in both senses. What chance has a tipsy and very virginal Acolyte of not particularly exulted birth before the cruel barbs of a Princess and dragoon rider.

Peri is quiet "No, I've a pretty little baby. I'm ah.." she looks for a fib "In seriousness not ready for a new man. I find your sort to be trouble." she offers a smile to Visenya "Yes princess. He was born in the tenth month." she admits with a soft laugh. She looks apologetically at Pyne, smiling "You can still be my friend but you shouldn't burden me with your lusty expectations, despite the rumors, I'm not actually terribly wanton, dear friend." she half whispers to Pyne "If I was wanton they wouldn't let me tend to prince Dhraegon or into the Citadel to aid in translations of low valyrian and with healing the ill." she confesses to Pyne, expression going sweet. She eyes Elyas, mumbling "He's a load of sand of in his crack." she mumbles, in Lysene dialected low Valyrian. Her expression gets bitchy very briefly before she returns to sweetly smiling.

Pyne bucks up a little. Women's matters! Right! And he's trouble!

Visenya doesn't speak Low Valyrian. She grew up on the only island in the world that still speaks classical Valyrian. Still, some of the words are similar. Even if she does understand Peri she makes no indication of it. "Bring your boy then. He ought to have a gift. I never rewarded you for saving me."

Peri smiles "No reward is necessary, princess." she admits, voice soft. "My son is well cared for. I promise. Prince Dhraegon is… enthusiastically enchanted by the boy. I think when he has his own mine will stop being so fascinating." she admits with a soft laugh. "I've goals for him, his happiness and education among them." she offers. For having a low born bastard, he's doing very well.

"A bauble, then." Visenya decides. "Nothing too outlandish." That said, she gives Peri a nod of her head, "Goodnight, Mistress. If this one causes you trouble I recommend dropping him in the harbor." She looks at Pyne sternly as she says this.

Pyne blinks at the Princess' threat in alarm.

Peri smiles "Oh come on, I could break him with my thumb princess. I'd be more apt to show his shame to the most devout." she offers, honestly, taking Pyne's arm gently, petting his hand. " You just need to find a properly appropriate lass." she offers to Pyne "Or devote yourself. "If you desire, Princess." she bows her head a bit low, her smile showing "Have a lovely evening princess."

Pyne ducks his head, blushing, "If I want to study, the Citadel is my only choice. Still, before I say my final vows…" he gives her a hopeful look, like a puppy begging for a treat.

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