Part-ee!

Pasht laughed. "I did not quite come for the food," she said, though a burgeoning candy dish and cooler had mysteriously appeared along one wall. "I ate earlier and decided to socialise while I was out." All the while, she made suggestive gestures with her umbrella.

In the process of backing up, Hirax tumbled over a great big tiger. "Crawdads," he gulped. He lay still in the hope that Nergye wouldn't notice his new pointy-eared passenger (of sorts). Mai trotted over to bat at Hirax's dangling green hair, unheeding of the much larger feline.

Sunev landed a short distance from Sarina. The parasol spooked him, but not enough to keep him from approaching on foot claw.

"Would you maybe care to socialise in a more private setting? Maybe a rosy bower..."

(Indeed, the place seemed to have acquired some formal gardens since anyone had last bothered to check their surroundings.)

"If you are not bothered by roses, dear man. You must mind them. Roses have sharp teeth enough to draw your blood. Are they lovely enough to be worth the pain?" Pasht asked with perhaps a hint of playfulness. She was still working the old umbrella, though she had succumbed slightly to good manners; her speed had dropped, but that was all.

Sunev eyed Pasht critically before landing some distance from both Pasht and Sarina, apparently deciding he didn't like parasols. He thought of them as garish "wings-on-sticks" and couldn't understand their purpose at all. Pasht's use of hers did not aid the dragon's comprehension.

"Well of course. What good is a rose without thorns or sweetness without sharpness?" He'd noticed the brolly-twirling but wasn't distracted by it.


Weft was holding his ground a few good steps away from Sarina and Sunev, sword still outstretched. What on earth is Suitov up to? he thought. Women were all much of a muchness to the monk, but he was fairly sure this wasn't the one that had been clinging to Suitov's arm last time he saw him. This one was better dressed.

Though, he thought snidely, only by default because this one was not holding her ensemble together with electrical tape.

"I wasn't even aware I'd started drinking, you know." Julia sighed to noone in particular. She was still a bit confused about what just happened. She could have sworn people had moved and things had disappeared. Also, something had definately happened and then UNhappened, which was more than a little peculiar.

"Ah well, since I've started...ah."

Empty pockets.

"I don't suppose anyone here owes me a drink, do they?" she hollered.

A "puh" in the negative from the shelf behind her indicated that Bowman did not.

"Shall we walk together, then?" Pasht said to Suitov. His pale skin bothered her a bit; it was harder for her to detect his blood than was usual for her.

A blonde in chainmail clunked her way into the Hall. "Ach, yer a lass after me own 'eart, are ye?" Lady Knight bellowed happily. "Tryin' t' get something fer free! Yer all roight, miss." Lady clapped Julia heavily on the back.

Julia hurtled forward from the unexpected blow and smacked her head on the table in front of her.

"Oowwwww!"

"Sounds good to me," purred delectation in bonbon form, sidling closer and offering an arm. "Let's walk. The running and screaming comes later."

It was a streak of canine bent and fall tendancies. It skirted the knight and bypassed the bonbon, resolving itself into a man crouched to stand by the cooler.

He reached for a silver can. It clashed alarmingly with his coif (which wasn't terribly) and his complexion, overall visible. He was furry but not enough.

"These free?" he asked.

The tab was bent and the beer poured gulletward.

"Sorry m'dear. My, yer just a wee thing t' go flyin' loik that! Are ye hurt?" Lady asked Julia. The warrioress' sword vibrated in its massive sheath, much like a cat winding up to pounce.

Pasht accepted the proffered arm, pressing herself against its owner. "You, sir, are a man after my own icy heart," she laughed. Her parasol dangled, forgotten, beside the side slit in her skirt.

Mai tilted her head at the beer guzzler, trying to decide if it was a familiar chugger or not.

Atop a furry perch, Hirax lay very still in an attempt to will himself into invisibility. His green hair somewhat marred that effort.

"Among other things," he said, "among other things."

Meanwhle Weft saw the hairy shifter and promptly freaked out even more.

"You there! You're not called Kerak are you?" he yowled, taking aim at the man's neck. His swordpoint didn't waver, but his eyes were wide and he managed to convey an impression of bristling.

"Not that I know of. Is it an insult?" The not-depilated beerdrinker backed out of easy lunging distance.

"I love a man who knows what he wants and reaches it for it," Pasht said with a downward glance. "We don't have to enter the bower. We could find some pleasure right here."

On the floor, kitten-Mai had caught a whiff of lupine scent. Lupines being bigger predators, Mai chose to slink to the sidelines. She'd watch from a distance until she felt safe.

"Hurt? Oh no, smacking my head on this hefty wooden table didn't pain me in the slightest."

Julia noticed the sword and wished she'd made her previous comment sound sincere.

The furry guy backed farther away from the sharpie and tossed the empty beercan towards the exiting cat.

"Here kitty, kitty. You'all like shiny things, dontcha?"

Shiny can! Mai's kitten instincts took over. She ran to the can, tapped it, then fled when the can loudly rolled across the floor. Impressed, she repeated this scenario several times.

Lady grinned at Julia. The merc had a sneaking appreciation for people who didn't cower around her and her sword. "That's it, lass, buck up and shrug it off! Wha' dunnae kill ye makes ye stronger. Tha's why ah'm willin' t' drink muddy ale -- it's good fer ye, innit!"

The can-rolling grated on Pasht's sensitive hearing. "Would anyone notice, in your estimation, if I flung that scrap of lint out a window?" she asked. If Mai had noticed the vampiress' glare, the kitten surely would have frozen in her padded tracks.

"Aye, I mean, yes... although I'll pass on the muddy ale. Never could drink ales or beers. Had a rather unfortunate incident one Christmas. Let's just say my Aunt's cat runs away when I come in the room now."

Lady had a Scottish accent, of sorts. Shirley Manson is Scottish. Julia wanted a spotty dress.

Weft hissed under his breath when Hairy actually used the K-word. This confirmed his worst suspicions: it was all a plot against him.

The sword wove a complex pattern between Pasht, Julia, sorceress and 'wolf. It looked a little like eenie, meenie, miney, mo...


The vampire's companion followed her glare. "Whi- oh, the cat?" he asked. "Spit it if it bothers you."

There were some unpleasant frequencies in the last sentence, beyond human hearing but well within animal range. He didn't like bumbling interruptions. He also relaxed the arm he'd sneaked around her waist.

The ex-lupine didn't look as though he'd bet much on the fuzzball's chances. He lunged under the sword for another chance at the cooler.

"Just getting another cold one," The 'wolf narrated, attempting to avoid a pointed riposte. Sweat stuck an orange and black/white salted lock to his cheek, but discretion forbade brushing it back. It itched and his face twitched.

"Cold what? Oh." Weft blinked, still somewhat wide-eyed and bristly. But he didn't go stabstabwhirlystab, which was presumably a good sign.

"You're definitely not Kerak or Lance or, er, any of that crowd, right?" he said, unconvinced.