1627, Fire Season, Fertility Week, Clayday Eve
Varanis and Berra settle down to drinking at Nochet’s primary Temple of Uleria. Xenofos is there for moral support. The binge drinking session begins in Drinking Party (Part I).
Part 6/11: Tipsy musings about water, wrestling, and melons.
Varanis drains the cup,1Cup #9 lurches to her feet, then sits back down hard. She may not have been feeling it before, but she’s definitely feeling the wine now. With a bemused grin, she turns to Xenofos. “We got a little tipsy, cousin.” And then she launches into another song. This one is silly and rather bawdy. Despite her current state, she manages to perform it well.2Failed con * 5, passed sing, even with a penalty for drunkenness.
“I’m getting there,” Berra says sleepily. “But I’m a bit after you. Are you shure we should…” She checks her accent. “Sure we should send for Venlar? He’d probably look down at us. Very tall person.”
Varanis giggles. “He’s taller than Xeno! Maybe not. Already caused him enough trouble with Mellia.”
Xenofos looks at the two. A sober person could read him like an open book.
Berra is not at the stage of falling over, but probably does not want to get up right now. She has not relaxed this much in anyone’s presence for a while.
The hostess suggests the two to fall down on couches. “After all…. Are you drinking?” “And she raises her finger and looks around. “Or …. Are you drinking?!!!”
“Ummmm. The second one,” Varanis tells her earnestly. “Oh! We’re still getting melons, right, Davorelia?” Varanis twists around to look at the courtesan again. “Mind you, you and I have our own, don’t we?” She giggles at her lewdness. “Berra’s more like strawberries, but she hides them away all the time anyway. Can’t seem to get her into the bath with me.” Varanis gives Davorelia her best sober look. “We could toss her in the bath now…”
“Shhh. Vareena, you must behave to have melons….”
“You could. I don’t mind taking a bath here.” Berra stretches out, a full-body cat movement that sees Davorelia’s grace and raises it lazily. It is spoiled slightly by a hiccough.
“You know, I had a dream once that someone tried to drown me in the bath…” Varanis tells them all very seriously, swaying a little as she reaches for the wine.
“Mhm?” Berra disentangles herself from her own stretch, and lies relaxed again.
Xenofos picks up the kithara again. He checks the tuning. It is still lovely. He starts to try the chords for lament of Dormal’s wife and stops.
“I love water, but… one of these days…” Varanis shrugs. “Obviously, I shouldn’t add it to my wine, right?”
“Xenofos can have yours,” Berra says. “But you know, feeling like this makes me feel not actually sleepy at all. It’s just the outside that’s sleepy. I want to go have a boxing match. That’s what I want right now. Melons are probably better for me.”
“You should. If you want to drink your cup full,” answers the Ulerian.
Varanis grins. “No boxing. Wanna wrestle?”
“No, because it’s a room for communion, not for getting wrecked. But tomorrow. After we wake up.” Apparently Berra is on her best behaviour.
“Wrestling can be communion too. But don’t tell Xeno I said so.” She winks at her cousin even as she says this to Berra. “Also, I can’t wrestle with either of you the way I’m thinking of right now. That would be weird.”
Davorelia strokes her behind the ears. “This is a drinking party Vareena…”
Varanis practically purrs. “I know. Just seem to keep saying the things that cross my mind when they cross my mind. This is why I don’t drink a lot often. Often a lot. A lot often.” She tries out the words and shrugs. “Among other reasons.”
“It’s Air escaping from her,” Berra says. “I think. Although it might be Storm Bull’s bad air…” She smirks, on her pillow.
“Hey! I’m not Rajar!” Varanis objects. She lunges forward, grabs an olive and tosses it at Berra. Then she looks at her fingers and wrinkles her nose. “Olives.”
Berra almost rises to that, and then just leans over and takes an olive instead. “If you don’t want them, you should have said. Xenofos gets your water, I get your olives, Devorelia gets… something. Whatever. Dignity, when we get to that point.”
Davorelia smoothes Varanis’ feelings (and the wrinkles on her faux Sartarite top). “You can not just run away from the party if you are the hostess, Vareena.”
“I know. Duty,” Varanis tells her solemnly. “More wine?” She holds up her empty cup between them.
Davorelia holds her hands, and fills the cup while holding her hands.3Cup #10 Probably wise, as it means she’s not trying to pour the wine into a moving target.
Berra watches Varanis, sleepily, but with a smile that looks very contented, at a low level.
Varanis tries to take this cup slowly, really, she does. But it vanishes too quickly, despite her grabbing some meat and cheese to nibble as well. “You know,” she muses, “I’ve already lost count.” Then she giggles.
The hostess looks her in the eyes and kisses her lightly on the lips. “You said you would drink heavily, Varena…. Show us the meaning of drinking heavily.” Oh, those dimples.
Berra says, “Not many, but they were fast. Some.” Helpful.
“Vareeeeeeena,” Varanis tells her, staring into those dark brown eyes. The Ulerian strokes her cheeks.
Berra turns her attention to Xenofos. “Fingers not right for the music?” she asks him.
“A drinking party Vareena?” the courtesan says.
“Are you tryin’ to distract me from my drinking?” Varanis asks Davorelia. “Because it might be working… but, I should be a good… um… what am I? You’re the hostess. What am I?” Her brow furrows as she tries to work it out.
Davorelia continues to stroke her cheek. “I am the hostess.” She looks at Varanis, then at Berra and Xenofos. “For a party,” after looking at them again.
Berra is smiling at Xenofos, relaxed. It needs an impressive twist of the posture to manage it given how she lay down, but she is doing a snake-kitten crossbreed impression. Out of armour she is very stretchy.