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One Last Call

Savio Pontelaeus and Lord Orland Amadeo are hosting an impromptu party aboard the Rising Sun casino galley. There will be too much alcohol, not enough supervision, meeting and mingling of people.... and an attempt for some lightness, levity, and distraction before darker shadows settle over those heading to a war coming all too quickly in the near future. Formality is discouraged. Frivolity is encouraged. Accidental drownings are discouraged. Accidental stabbings, depends on the circumstances.


Dec. 30, 2020, 8 p.m.

Hosted By

Savio Orland


Raven Teague Zakhar Merek Samira Mirella Allegra Reagan Desiree Duarte Bianca Giorgio Sabella Niklas



Arx - Lower Boroughs - Dockyard - Rising Sun Casino

Largesse Level


Comments and Log


Lord Orland and Savio throw a great party tonight. That is all, that will be said.

It's a ship! A casino ship! The Rising Sun is festooned with lights and lanterns tonight, as though to call visitors hither like moths to the flame of bad judgement and regrettable choices. There is no ticketed entrance tonight as the ship has been opened for a Party, and both the weatherdeck above and the 'casino floor' deck below are lit and ready for visitors.

The casino deck is the main attraction, with crystal chandeliers and plush carpeting, and such decor as an 'extremely refined' painting (l painting) and an alarmingly extensive selection of drinks (l cabinet). Several cakes are in evidence, and a few servants of the sort of even temperament necessary to put up with a gathering like this have been employed to help ensure guests are not lacking in food, drinks, or something to smoke. Self-service also seems an option though, and there is something about this gathering that suggests anyone who is standing on ceremony or waiting for proper service is going to be waiting a while.

It's a nice environment, with, somehow, the indelible impression that something's going to get out of hand. Maybe it's that painting that creates the impression...

Word's been spread about a party; it was not an event with specific invites. The hosts could be defined as two people who should know better and don't: Savio Pontelaeus, a commoner fresh off the boat from the Saffron Chain, and Lord Orland, Voice of Amadeo. It already smells like haze in this ship, despite hatches open for fresh air, and Savio is smoking, eyeing his co-host and the liquor cabinet as he weaves around chattering people starting to arrive.

"Really don't think you brought enough alcohol, Orland."

Stefano, an inconspicuous Lycene bodyguard, Carmela, a gleaming dusken-feathered crow, Ambra, a plain-faced Lycene scribe arrive, following Mirella.

Raven stands not far from Orland and Savio, "Don't tell him that, Wastrel, he'll rush out to grab more and I'm not sure if anyone else in the city won't want a drink at some point in the foreseeable future." She has a bottle of rum in one hand, but this is her normal state of being lately.

Some people say there is no time for parties. Well, someone did not tell that to Lord Charon Teague. He is on time, to the second, as he steps into the casino. Those slow, deliberate steps into it, his eyes moving through it all, taking it in his hand is resting on that belt. Today he is weaponless, no ax nor longsword. His hand is around a woman as he bends to whisper something into her ear. As he notices it is a ship, a look over his face slowly turns back to normal. His teeth biting into his bottom lip as he moves forward now towards Orland bee-lining it towards him quickly."Hello Lord Orland Amadeo. This is my wife to be, Lady Reagan Laveer." His eyes watching the boy as he grins at him boyish, his voice is friendly with respect."Now then, where do I get my rum?"

An old man comes ambling into the casino, if it wasn't the full beard of thick snow white hair, then it might have been their gate that gave them away. A steel helmet hangs from a hook on a belt at their waist, they are wearing leather armor and other than that there's two distinguishing features, one, they are tall, over six feet and four inches of height along with thier snow white hair. And two, there's a deep thick scar that runs over the top bridge of their nose from above the left eye to below the right eye, deep gouge in the middle of their face. Beyond this, the old man's hands are tucked into what appears to be pockets at the chest level of the cuirass that they wear. A cigar is hanging out of their mouth upon which they lightly puff upon. A blue haze follows them as they puff on the cigar.

Their left hand is removed from the pocket and takes the cigar from their mouth, to then smack their lips together and mumble just enough for anyone near by to possibly hear.

Zakhar says in Crownlands shav, "Tis a party then?""

Merek makes a way along to check on the place, while he nods a bit and begins to adjust his dark attire. He seems to be watching for things that he can find and get into, like alcohol.

6 First Legion Centurions, Verina, an austere Isles woman arrive, following Allegra.

"I clearly didn't," Orland states with his hand tugging the front of his cotton shirt, heavens, it's not even SILK, "We'll need more." He side glances at the cabinet, "You never know what taste buds people have and how much people need it. I need." He was already smoking as well, his clove cigarillo spliced with haze, watching people come on board with a smirk, "NO KISS ASSERY TONIGHT. If you must kiss ass, THAT's what the Painting is for!!"

Orland is then introduced to a Lady. WELL THEN. Orland turns, "OOOOH Lord Teague! I didn't hear you right there... just now." He shakes the other man's hand and nods to Lady Reagan, "Hello Lady Reagan Laveer. Uh, drinks?" Because he totally just yelled about ass kissing... OH god.

"You're so dour," Savio accuses Raven with a grin, before raising a glass to Orland's decoration. "You heard the man -- no kiss assery tonight!" he declares to the general population. "We're going to get drunk, we're going to get weird, and what happens on the Rising Sun -- staaaays on the Rising Sun, hey. Drinks are -- there," he points around Orland in an indication toward the liquor cabinet, and toward a bar where servants are available to assist. Just a few. "Fortune favors the brave, and alcohol favors those who chase it down and grab a bottle. Newcomer in the edgy black clothes, hello! Go drink!" That seems to be for Merek.

Samira makes her way onto the casino ship with the sahsaying gait of one who is ready for some revelry. She rakes a hand through her mass of tangled hair, a smile slowly curving her lips as she takes in the sights. "Now this is gonna be a good party. I just have a feeling." Her attention turns to the painting nearby, a peal of laughter floating through the air signalling her delight. "Lord Orland, I wasn't sure about you before, but you're gaining points," she calls to the lord, her tone laced with humor. "This-" A hand lifts to gesture to the surroundings, "-this is good."

Mirella is here, certainly, and perhaps she's a little more relaxed than usual. She's sitting off at some side of the ship where she may watch the party unfold in all its promised revelry and potential chaos. She's not sitting on one of the chairs, though. No, she seems to have found a bundle of red velvet pillows somewhere, and she's made into them a nice little lounging pile. And lounge she does, half-sprawling out, propping herself up on one elbow, cheek cupped in the hand of the same arm. In the other hand she holds what might be described as a chalice of white wine. It is a huge vessel. She sips from it every now and then as she laaazily people-watches in such a way that it can only be assumed she is VERY at home here.

Raven snorts at Savio, "I have no other setting. Dour and rage. Ok so I have two settings." She drawls. She fingerwaves at the hosts and ambles away to find a seat for herself and let them play hosts.

Raven has joined the lightly used, dark-red velvet couch.

A break. That is exactly what she needed. A break from her office. A break from the missives and a chance to relax a bit. So when she was informed about the gathering Savio was having, she figured that was a good as place as any to do just that. However, it becomes quite clear as she steps aboard that she feels a bit out of place and not exactly sure where to go. Her eyes scan those that have already arrived and when they fall on Raven she visibly smiles and begins to make her way over to her, her cane tapping lightly on the floor below. "Raven. I was hoping I would find you here." She stands beside the couch, not yet choosing to sit just yet and waves her hand lightly to Savio should he catch the gesture.

Zakhar has a smile and a nod to Savio, Orland, and then Samira. He then is heading directly to the drinks cabinet, crouching over the cabinet with a mild groan though finding a couple of bottles that look interesting. And slowly pulling each one out and placing them within more hidden pockets on his person before standing back up with another groan and his left hand on his left knee. Holding a bottle of Swift Strike Scorpion Whiskey, in his right hand and cigar with that blue haze in his left. He puts the cigar back into his mouth and looks for a place to sit and drink

Merek notices Savio, and nods a bit with a lift of a drink he finds, "Thank you!" He then will drink while he looks to the waters from the side of the casino ship.

Raven shoots up to her face and there's unabashed surprise to see Allegra, "You highness! IS something amiss? Are you alright?" she frowns and looks around, "I'm not sure this is the place for you, your highness." She removes her coat and drapes it over the couch so the princess can sit on steelsilk and not questionably abused upholstery.

Teague looks around the party slowly, his arm still around Reagan as he waits for her to speak to Orland."It's a good motto." His left hand coming out to shake Orland's with a little chuckle. His voice is teasing the other man as he nods towards Raven."Good to see you again, Raven." His eyes moving over the others, nodding to those he knows, as he walks over to the booze to select a bottle of rum, anything will do as he pops it open using his thumb, as he finds two glasses pouring it swiftly, handing one to Reagan, as the other is for him keeping the bottle hanging from the leather strap from his ax. Watching as Raven is, she is placing that down for her lady with a nod towards Allegra, as he watches now his lips wrapped around the cup as he takes a long sip of it.

Reagan will walk on board with Teague. She is the picture of elegance and holds herself with a regal grace as she moves. She is quite small and delicate, the opposite of the man whose arm she holds. When she is introduced to Orland she will turn her emerald gaze to the man and offers him a stunning smile before she dips her delicate form into a low, well practiced curtsy. "Greetings, my lord. It is my honor to meet you. I have been looking quite forward to finally getting an introduction. Thank you for allowing me to attend your lovely party. A drink would be most appreciated. Tell me, what do you recommend?"

Orland lifts his glass as well, cue the Greaty Gatsby beaming grin, which actually might look devilishly handsome, for a split second. He's being polished. He's even wearing a nice long coat. There's plenty of flavors of liquor to pick from, plenty of haze going around - casually spliced with tobbaco. Cards and dices were set out if people wanted a game, but otherwise, Orland was watching Savio go for the newcomer Merek. Meanwhile Samira earns a canted grin, "I'm glad you approve. Do you think the artist got the angle right?" He pivots and pulls aside his longcoat, to show... off yes. Yes. That. He winks and gestures toward the drinks, "Have your fill." He looks over to Zakhar, "AHH, Old man. Has my father, the Good Count of Brauva, spoken to you yet?" There's a good natured wink, "There's some good hearty stuff in there that will get you warm like you were young again." So polite. A clap on Zakhar's shoulder, before he eyes Teague again, "Leave the ass kissing at the door? Yes. I think so too. Too many parties are spent bowing and blowing kisses. We just want to eat cake." He smiles to Reagan, "Uh, whatever bottle you crack open first. We've a taste for every tongue. A smoke if you like, or cake, or ... I think there's a meaty pie around here too, but I'm not sure how old the bird was used to cook it. Try the cake."

2 House Wyrmguard Guards arrives, following Desiree.

Savio grins and finger-waves at the arriving Allegra, a person to whom, normally, much deference is owed! But what happens aboard the Rising Sun, stays aboard the Rising Sun... supposedly... and it seems like a good chance for a break if that's what one is after.

"You all ought to know that while the usual sorts of entrance fees are not being charged tonight," Savio addresses the partygoers in that weird, lilting Saffron accent, "The affair is, alas, not completely free. Your presence implies consent to.... a drinking game," he warns. "Sorry about it. We need entertainment. A game of truth, of dares, or shots." Both brows lift.

"This is how it works -- you will be asked which you want. To answer some heinous truthful question in front of everyone, to accept a dare of the asker's choice, or to drink your drink. You have to choose /before/ you hear what they'll ask of you! So if you're scared..." A grin, "Choose drinking. That's why we're here anyway. Once you do one of the three, it's your turn to ask the next person. Simple, right? Right! All we need is a volunteer to ask the first ask, to a friend. Or enemy."

Allegra gives a nod to Teague, catching his glance, and was that the slightest of smile given to him as well? Her eyes drift back to Raven and the cloak set down upon the couch, moving to sit down upon it. "Savio is my friend. And friends to stuff like this for friends. Even if..." She pauses and looks about, nodding once more. "Even if I might catch something before I leave." She exhales slowly and looks to Raven, considering something for a moment. "I got this." She reaches into a part of her dress and pulls out a crimson sash and proceeds to cap her head with it, letting both the ends hang down her back, giving her a much more sailor-casual appearance. "It's what they do right?" She looks to Raven for approval.

Mirella may be a little into the 'party spirit' by now. Her pale cheeks are tinted with a touch of pink, and her big goblet of wine is only half full. Nonetheless, her voice is as clear as a bell -- though not by any means inaudible -- as she lifts it to ask Orland, "Wait, is the Count *actually* your father?" She shuts up when Savio suggests a party game, though. She will not be that first volunteer. More wine is elegantly imbibed.

Teague has joined the line.

Recognition registers as Samira's gaze falls upon Zakhar. She offers the man a nod of greeting, watching as he loads up with bottles. "Some for now, some for later, huh?" she calls questioningly before turning back to Orland. She stifles a laugh, brows arched questioningly. "Oh, /you/ were the subject? I daresay it seems like the artist took their time in achieving just the right angle. I'll assume it's a decent likeness." Grinning, she inclines her head to the man and moves to locate a drink, ready for something strong. Hearing Savio's explanation of the game, she brightens and lifts her drink. "This oughta be interesting."

Recently returned to the city of Arx, Desiree Wyrmguard arrives to the casino galley with a *click* of her heels across the wooden deck until she reaches the inside and the red rug that mutes her footfall. She brings her hands together with a light clap once she's in and overhears the description of the game. "Just in time!" she declares, despite being a fair bit late.

Savio has joined the line.

Samira has joined the line.

Teague watches it all with a little chuckle at the game as he lifts his hand to his lips with his glass, the other still offered towards Reagan. His eyes scanning each of them, seeking out those he knows to nod towards them for now the massive man is silent as he steps into the line, with a wicked chuckle as he looks at orland."Now, than I came here to drink. So it will be simple for me, DRINK DRINK DRINK! But that is boredom inudcing, I'll do that anyways I pick DARE!" The massive lord throwing back his head with a wicked howl of pleasure, his braided hair is whipping around his head with a loud jingles.

Zakhar checked luck + smithing at difficulty 9, rolling 42 higher.

Reagan will take her drink from Teague and says "Thank you, My Lord." Bowing her head to him in gratitude. She curtsies again to Orland and says "Thank you, I will be sure to try the cake. "She steps off to the side though to allow herself to fade back a little as she observes the party and this game that is starting though she does not seem to have any intention what so ever to join in.

A DARE! "Ayyyyyy!" Savio lifts a glass to the first and bravest participant, Teague! "A dare for the Lord Teague! You'll find, behind the bar, a bucket of sea water pulled up just before the party. Fill a glass. Then throw it at the partygoer of your choice." He exhales smoke politely to one side, "Throw the water, not the cup, though. Accidental black eyes are for later on tonight."

Zakhar has been lightly chewing on his cigar while mucking about with another in his hands. When done there's a moment of /erueka/ though its not said outloud. He then wanders over to the table that Allegra is at, and sits down with them. "'taellu dere."

Orland smirks at Mirella, "Say it enough times and it becomes the truth, doesn't it? He did, adopt me. I have it in writing." (@family duarte). He shrugs his shoulder a little, takes a drink of whatever is in his flask. Turning to Samira he pops a shoulder, "Very direct." He lies, openly. His eyes fall on Desiree as she climbs aboard, "Hello hellllo. Welcome aboard!" Head turn toward Teague and Reagan, his grin falling, because IT HURTS TO SMILE. Exhaling a sigh of relief that he hasn't need to entertain anyone any longer, he flops into one of the seats, jangling out his dice, as Savio starts off the party with a forced-participation drinking game. At least there's a volunteer!

Orland has joined the intimate, dark-red velvet love seat.

Zakhar checked luck + smithing at difficulty 9, rolling 48 higher.

Teague grins right at Savio with a wicked chuckle, as he looks over at the room trying to pick his target. As he walks slowly over towards the bar to find the cup, as he proudces it watching them all as he walks towards his Betrothed. Watching her now, his hand is gripping the cup as he gets near to her, he turns and throws the water right at Orland with a wink at the youth."For not calling me today for training."

"Drop by drop if I am a partygoer of choice, please! That sounds much easier to bear," says Desiree, laughter in her voice, then she offers Orland a bright and easy smile. "Thank you so very much. Might this be your ship?" Then Orland's hit by water and, rather than hanging round for an immediate answer, she slinks away to grab a drink first.

The line has been dismissed by Orland.

Reagan will arch a delicate brow at Teague and there is a very clear 'don't you dare' look on her face. She stands tall though, ready to stare down her betrothed, not slinking away, a challenge! When he tosses the water at Orland though a smirk appears upon her lips and she relaxes. A laugh escapes her and she shakes her head, lifting her cup to her lips for a sip.

As Zakhar makes is way over to where Allegra resides with Raven, the young Pravus Princess turns her attention to the man with a raised brow and a smile, yes it is an actualy smile. "Tay-lu dar-ray?" She has no idea what it means, but going on the assumption it is a greeting she tries to repeat it. She listens to something else the man murmurs to her and shakes her head. "No. No thank you. Yet, I do not mind if you do so."

Mirella slowly nods sideways at Orland's words in a thoughtful, accepting gesture. Seems like she thinks what he's saying is fair enough. She takes another healthy gulp of wine, turning her gaze back to where the game is being played. Her eyes twinkle with interest. Or twinkle from the wine. Probably 50/50, all told.

Savio loiters near Orland's seat, with a drink that seems perpetually half full although he keeps drinking it, and a hazy smokable in hand. There is no pity for his co-host being the victim of Teague's dare. "Didn't call for training? Shame on you. Shaaaaame."

WATER in the FACE. Orland sputters at the suddeness of it. Just as he was sitting his ass down. Orland looks shocked, arms out octopus style, folded out at the elbows and ringing out his arms with a flick flick of all the water. Ooo but he's on the intimate couch. He looks up at Teague and smirks, slicking his hair back with a long raking comb of fingers, "Should've seen that coming..." He and the intimate couch are drenched. He sits back into it though, amused. "It's my SHIP. Yes. I'm the Captain." To Desiree, "I'd ask you to sit, but it might make you wet."

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Allegra before departing.

A Blackfleet weaver makes his way into the festivities and searches the merriment before spying Raven. Making a bee line for her he leans down and talks quietly in Raven's ear. She grimaces, "Now? Fine." She looks contritely to Allegra, "Forgive me your highness, something pressing requires my attention." She rises and points the guard to the seat just vacated "NO NOT leave her side. Tell me you understand." Her gaze boring into the reaver's before she turns and turns to seek out Savio.

Samira nods approvingly as she watches Teague's dare unfold. "Smart man. Better to accost a friend than your future bride," she remarks with a smirk, taking a swig of her drink. She moves to lean against the railing, apparently preferring to remain standing than finding a seat. Perhaps in case she finds herself the victim of the next dare.

Teague stands next to Reagan his right arm looping around her waist as his own glass is brought to his lips with a mirth chuckle as he watches them all. As he then set the new empty glass down on the table behind him, as he starts to pull out his ivory pipe placing it between his maw. His fingers packing it with a purple bag filled with tabacoo. Watching Orland with a wicked smile his eyes lighting up with mirth and mischif, as he lights the pipe taking a long inhale after lighting it with a sigh shy."Now than, I will pick you." His eyes turn towards........Samira with a wicked chuckle."Dearest Samira, Truth, Drinks or Dare!"

"For the record, there better not be any weak truth-questions, hey?" Savio warns the guests, pointing a warning finger at all and sundry. "You ask someone their favorite color, and you're going directly over the deck rail into the harbor. Just directly over the rail."

Sir Alren, 5 Templar Knight guards arrive, following Bianca.

Harlen, Bianca arrive, following Duarte.

Zakhar's laugh can be heard bellowing over the party's commotion. "Ayes, 'ed bae da ones tossers dem too!"

Raven leans in and mutters in Savio's ear, points at Allegra, gives him a LOOK and then slips off to weave through the crowd towards the exit.

"So might many things. An ever-present peril!" Desiree offers in light response to Orland. "Good to meet you, Captain. I'm Lady Desiree Wyrmguard." Her gaze flickers across to the unfamiliar Teague and Samira, then Desiree scoops up her own drink - some sort of cocktail, and she sure wasn't paying attention when she grabbed it - for a sip.

"Exactly as it ought to be," Samira calls to Savio, clearly approving of his warning. She holds her drink aloft in a silent toast toward Teague as he names her the next participant in the game. "I'm feeling brazen. Let's go with a dare."

Sir Alren, 5 Templar Knight guards arrive, following Bianca.

Harlen, Bianca arrive, following Duarte.

Teague nods slowly watching Samira, his eyes studying her for a moment as he grins softly, with a wicked smile."I dare you to pick someone here for a sketch, an intimate one. I want you to study them dare them bare as they be born, with there soul exposed as there body will be." His grin widens, as he looks at the artist with a wicked chuckle.

Reagan leans into Teague as he puts his arm around her waist. She offers him up a smile but she stays quiet as she looks around the ship, listening to all that is going on around them. Hearing the dare for Samira she looks up at Teague and then back to see who the woman will choose.

"You have to identify who you're choosing," Savio notes to Samira. "Even if the scandalous sketch occurs some other time." Extra rules, what is this! Evil host prerogative.

Earlier in the day, Duarte received a message. Orland said that he was going to come to the party he couldn't be boring. Well - what is LESS boring than arriving to a debauched boat party with the imposing Legate of Creation?

The Count helps the fae-like and preeminent member of the Faith up the gangway, arm in arm, and stops once the deck is reached to take a gander at what is exactly is going on here.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Allegra before departing.

Raven has left the lightly used, dark-red velvet couch.

Moonsilver, the pale-feathered raven leaves, following Raven.

Teague grins at Reagan with a wicked chuckle as he leans in to whisper to her. His hand is pulling her closer, as he watches the world.

"Less fluid smeared everywhere than the day they were born might be ideal," suggests Desiree, propping her hip against a table to lean there as she looks on, glass in hand.

Big parental energy incoming with these two. Bianca gingerly followed at Duarte's side, her hand tightening on the crook of the Bravura count's arm as they ascended the gangplank. Silvered irises shifted to take in the scene that lay before them, a small whisper of a smile touching her lips only to broaden as she spotted her cousin Desiree amidst the crowd. Glance drifted aside to Duarte and she murmured a soft, "A glass of wine would be delightful."

Zakhar leans over for a little aside to Allegra before stepping up from the table, a smile and an wink for her before he turns to see who else is available for conversation, the cigar in his mouth being lightly chewed upon as a blue haze rolls out from his lips and nose.

Orland notes to Desiree, "What a peril that must be." His tone is a well strung tenor in that moment, so smooth as he leans forward, "Lady Desiree, I'm Orland, Orland Amadeo." He watches her for a long moment. He's lost part of the game. It's a boyish moment that is cut short when DUARTE brings a Legate of Creation to their ship. He practically stares at Duarte, expressionless. It's the teenager stare of death to any parental figure. Then he's watching as Raven ... was that Raven?! He sits back, regardless, "Where are you from again, Desiree?" Distraction needed.

Samira's eyes are alight with amusement as she listens to Teague's requirements and Savio's addendum. "Alright, then. Let me think." Taking another long sip of her drink, she begins strolling through the crowd, eyeing each person in attendance as if sizing them all up. Finally, wearing the hint of a mischievous grin, she pauses before Reagan. "Will you be my victim?" Leaning in, she drops her voice to murmur to the other woman.

"Of course, Mother." Bianca really needn't speak twice. Look how attentive is the count. Duarte drifts off to find the wine for Bianca, but keeps an eye (somewhat amused).

Luxe arrives, following Giorgio.

Reagan smiles at the whisper from Teague but then Samira is making the request to draw her. The proper woman's eyes go incredibly wide and she lets out a small cough from the shock. The whisper from the woman causes her to blush but she finally nods her head and says "It would be an honor to see your art in practice, My lady. I thank you." Her cheeks are so very red at the moment but she bows her head to the woman.

Teague watches Reagan as his eyes move over to Samira."Well played." His voice is teasing, as he exhales the smoke out of his noise, as he lifts that rum in cheers towards Samira."Now than Reagan, you get a drawing out of my dare. It is a good evening."

"Hello!" Desiree greets her cousin, Bianca, from across the galley, managing to imbue that single word with a hefty dose of enthusiasm, along with a wave. She answers Orland with a hand laid to her collarbone, as if she somehow needs to indicate herself, "I'm from Blancbier, the family home."

For those recently arrived, the Debauched Boat Party is in swing, with a scandalous game of truth or dare or drinking in play. There are cakes, the air is hazy with smoke, there is a ridiculous amount of alcohol. There is a painting of somebody's delicate derrierre.

With Duarte's departure to fetch her a glass of wine, the ethereal creature that was the legate glided amidst the flow of aeterna to maneuver through the crowd though paused to offer one last glance behind her in assurance to the Templars waiting on the docks all would be well before proceeding forward in her hunt. The target of Bianca's trek was indeed Desiree and placid pool of her features warmed as she neared the woman. A nod was dipped to Orland, but other than a touch to Desiree's shoulder and a lean of familial kiss to the Wyrmguard's cheek she did not interrupt the conversation at hand and instead turned to quietly observe and catch up on the discussion topic.

Samira appears pleased when Reagan accepts her offer, inclining her head to the woman. "I'm glad! I will look forward to it." She sends a grin toward Teague before turning, on the hunt for her target. Eyes settling upon Desiree, she makes her way toward the unfamiliar woman. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Samira Culler and I've a very important question: truth, dare, or drink?"

Reagan will shift a bit where she stands but she curtsies to Samira and then leans in to whisper to Teague.

Late to the party comes Giorgio Pontelaeus. The elder brother of the Pontelaeus duo is dressed in a refined ensemble of silk and fine jewelry, his head held high and a polite smile on his features as he steps from the gangplank to the ship. His eyes scan the faces already present, offering a dip of his head toward those few he knows before he begins to drift through the crowd in search of his brother.

Desiree offers Bianca another smile and informs her, "This is all terribly fun." Then it's Desiree's own turn all of a sudden, and she scoots herself along to sit up on the edge of the table she was standing at. Tilting her glass to indicate Samira, she says, "Let's have some truth. Imagine the range of questions for someone you haven't met! I'm a mysterious stranger until just after I answer."

Orland is still wet, soaking wet. At least the humidity of the night will let him stay that way for the rest of the night. How pleasant. He picks at his soggy clothes, pulling out a box of cigarillo haze spliffs from his inner pocket, finding the box too, soggy. He reserves a curse word, in style, and flicks the box out on the table before him. They'll dry out, someday. He nods up at Desiree, "Awesome. I have no idea where that is. Sounds fabulous though." He spots Bianca coming up to Desiree, quietly smirking, "I didn't catch your name?" Because he didn't ask, but was in a way doing so now to Bianca, "I'm Orland, Duarte's .. Voice, adopted son, but who's counting. Welcome aboard." He looks toward the drawing going on. He laughs at something Savio leans in to say, nodding, "Get him drunk. Fast."

Duarte had actually disappeared from the deck entirely for a short time. His re-arrival is with two glasses of red wine from a reserve that is surely not being served to the other party goers. Luckily, the aeterna skinned Legate is not difficult to pick out in a crowd. Duarte floats across the deck until he returns by Bianca's side. He lowers the glass of wine past her shoulder (where it can be easily grasped with a bend of the arm) and murmurs into her opposite ear.

"Orland. How could you forget Mother Bianca?" He tsks gently.

Savio spots Giorgio looking for him and picks up a bottle of rum, moseying his way toward Giorgio. "Drink this until you're fun," he greets the more responsible Pontelaeus, before attending to the game again. "Ohhh, a TRUTH it is, for the lady from Blancbier," he says, and turns a grin on Samira. "Make it ruthless."

Teague watches Reagan for a moment with a little chuckle. His hand is resting around her waist as he watches the room now. He is quiet as he whispers back towards Reagan."Good party." His voice is calls out to Orland with a grin as he fires off another burst of smoke out of his nose from that pipe.

Mirella's still lounging on her pile of soft velvet cushions on the edge of the gathering. She's still taking healthy sips of the white wine in her big old goblet. Her cheeks are as flushed as they were before, and she as she leans her cheek on one hand, elbow proppig her up, she looks ready to snooze. Still, she's keeping an eye on the game, save for the lazy lift of her goblet she sends Duarte's way. It says 'hi Duarte' in the most cursory way imaginable.

Samira taps her fingers against her glass, lips pursed in thought as she considers Desiree's choice. "So many potential questions to ask. But I've been instructed to keep it lively, so... What is the most scandalous thing you've done of late? Perhaps something you thought you'd gotten away with?"

Mirella's still lounging on her pile of soft velvet cushions on the edge of the gathering. She's still taking healthy sips of the white wine in her big old goblet. Her cheeks are as flushed as they were before, and as she leans her cheek on one hand, elbow propping her up, she looks ready to snooze. Still, she's keeping an eye on the game, save for the lazy lift of her goblet she sends Duarte's way. It says 'hi Duarte' in the most perfunctory way imaginable. THERE, FIXED.

"I know your name, dear Orland." Bianca smiled in her slight way that made her look like marble in motion, beginning to clarify who she was until Duarte intercepted with both words and the glass of wine. Her arm did indeed crook to wrap spiderweb digits about the basin of the glass, leaning to better hear the Count's whisper and retorting with a low chuckle and the reply of, "Of course I do." Those intense silvered irises of hers shifted back to the younger Amadeo. "You've grown much since I last saw you exasperated at Duarte's heel. It is good to see you well and in good spirits." Her attention then turned to observe the game, asking softly, "How does one play this?"

Brows lift in nod so mild surprise at being approached so quickly by his brother with that bottle of rum, but an amused smile does curl Giorgio's features as he reaches out to take the bottle from his brother. "To your health, brother," Giorgio says before turning the bottle up and taking four deep swallows, the bottle glugging before he lets it drop back to his side. His eyes shift from one face to the next before he says toward Orland, "Lord Orland. It is good to see you well." Then he moseys up to near enough to converse with Mirella, "Good evening, I'm Giorgio Pontelaeus."

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Giorgio before departing.

Zakhar checked luck + smithing at difficulty 9, rolling 37 higher.

Savio is definitely paying attention to see what Desiree will say, but he spots Giorgio greeting Mirella, and points at her, then at him, and the bottle of rum Giorgio was given. "He's been told to drink that! Don't let him not-drink it! And if he talks about economics he goes directly over the rail! /Directly/ into the harbor, Giorgio. I will do it, you know that I will."

Zakhar shuffles over to Orland and Savio with a grin under his thick snow white beard, handing them both what looks to be a freshly rolled cigar. "'njoys 'ents."

Reagan smiles at Teague's words and they seem to make her happy, whatever it was he whispered. She stands on her tippy toes and kisses his cheek chastely before she takes another sip of her drink and goes back to watching the festivities.

Zakhar puts A fat rolled cigar that emits a blue haze when lit in Cross belt.

"I was being polite..." Orland notes to Duarte, "Uuugh, tonight is not about polite. Polite is somewhere out there," he waves toward the ocean or the docks. "There's drinks, a lot of cake, smokes.. whatever, cards, dice..." hearing his name called, he looks over, "Hey Gio!" He waves, "Make sure you get a few bottles of booze in you." He looks back at Bianca, with brown eyes blinking, "What? Oh yeah. Grown up." Mmmhmming her a bit, he stands up from the couch he's being left alone in, it is wet though. "Oh yeah, spirits are so high right now. Very high. HIGH." He smiles at them, pivots around Savio, dragging his arm around the other's shoulders, "The game, is a round robin thing. You pick someone to .. this chap knows the rules," he claps Savio on the chest, "Savio is his name." Shove toward Bianca, as he pivots around Zakhar and grabs the cigar, "Nice one Zak! This will smoke up good."

Teague watches the room as he watches it all as he exhales the smoke into the air. His hand is stuffing it out with a thick thumb plunged down into it, as he places the ivory box that his pipe is keeped in as he drops it into one of his many pockets. His eyes moving over it all, as he nods towards Giorgio."Hello again Giorgio. How are ya?" Grins over at Reagan as she is kissing him at the cheek with a little chuckle, as his eyes moving over the party trying to see it all.

Orland has left the intimate, dark-red velvet love seat.

Desiree taps a finger to her lip, brow crinkling lightly in thought - or mock-thought - then smoothing again as she goes to answer, with a laugh, "Here's one. Do you know how terribly awkward it is when someone's parent is around? Because I bet someone right here is just about finding out, although I shan't name names! And I was just after telling an innuendo-laiden joke, and perhaps I got away with it, but only time shall tell me that or not. Is it scandalous if it got missed?" She shrugs her bare shoulders, then, her question answered, she gives a brisk nod to Orland, stray strands of white blonde hair bouncing about her shoulders. "Utterly fabulous. The best. You're missing out."

Duarte can barely contain his brimming amusement when Orland passes the explaining along to Savio. But his sight catches another among the crowd and he drifts away again from the Legate's side, offering her gentle 'pardon me' as he does so.

At Giorgio's arrival, Mirella lifts herself -- albeit without any great hurry beyond that which is respectful --into a less recumbent position. Her back is held with the sort of straight posture that indicates that she's not quite plastered yet, but she seems relaxed enough, in a sort of elegant state of faint alcohol-warmed indolence. To her fellow merchant, she dips her head in a polite bow. Her voice is a murmur, but not slurred, when she greets Giorgio. "Ah, Giorgio Pontelaeus. How good to meet you. Mirella Fiorelli." With her hand free to gesture now, she asks, "Would you like to join me? I've enough cushions for two, if you don't mind sitting on the floor." She takes another sip-swallow from her goblet, then looks over to Savio with a tilt of her head. "Noted. But I do enjoy talking about economics..."

Amusement danced across her features in the barest of incarnations as she watched Orland in all of his sopping glory shove another under the bus of a potential faux pas and also dampening Savio in the process. Bianca glanced aside to Duarte amidst a deep sip of her wine before that weighty silver gaze drifted back to the young Pontelaeus with a touch of expectance. "Hello."

Savio accepts the cigar from Zakhar with a flourishing bow. "You're a hero and a legend, sir, thank you. Those of us about to get /proper/ baked -- we salute you." Upon straightening, he's briefly captured by Orland, who foists upon him the obligation of explaining the game. Orland gets a clear 'Really?!' look, but nonetheless, he looks to Bianca and Duarte, lets Orland escape, and explains the rules!

"We're a little bit of a rowdy crowd, but it's a game that suits it... and perpetuates it... each person is asked if they'll answer a truth, perform a dare, or drink to avoid doing either! Our friend," he gestures at Desiree, "Has just answered a truthful question, and now it's her turn to pick a new victim." He pauses. "This is why my lord Orland is wet. There was a dare. He isn't habitually so damp."

Duarte has joined the circular bar with round shelving within, brimming with drinks.

Zakhar has joined the circular bar with round shelving within, brimming with drinks.

Merek notices Bianca and waves that way, before he takes a moment to lean on the side and take a drink from that alcohol with him. He seems to be in his thoughts. Though he's about.

Zakhar nods to Savio and Orland then heads over to the bar to take a seat, still chewing on his cigar.

"The very best cousin of mine currently on the boat!" Desiree decides, and clarifies for anyone unsure of who her very best cousin might be: "Legate Bianca. Fancy some truth, a dare or a drink?" Are you meant to truth-or-dare a Legate? Desiree doesn't seem at all concerned, at any rate.

Teague gets a friendly dip of the head from Giorgio before the bottle in his hand is lifted toward the lord as well. "I am doing well," he says, "it is good to see you again." He rolls his eyes at Savio's comment before he says, "You may try. Just remember, me going in that water will directly effect your coin purse." He points with the tip of the bottle Savio's way before actually offering a wink and taking another swig of the rum.

Looking back to Mirella, Giorgio offers a grateful dip of his head and says, "The floor sounds just fine to me," and drops down to Mirella's side on the cushions. "Mirella Fiorelli.... that name sounds familiar.... have we met before?" he questions with a lift of his brow. "Perhaps you purchased some Calderan Bloodstones shortly after I arrived in the city?"

Bianca dipped her chin in a gracious down tilt as Savio took the time to explain the rules of the game at hand to her. "Interesting. Thank you. That was succinct." And then Desiree was calling her right out to join the festivities. Good thing she just learned the rules! With a crane of swan-like neck to locate her cousin once again (and glass raised in distant greeting to Merek in that process) she smiled softly and offered, "I would never turn down an opportunity to tell a bit of truth."

Teague leans over to whisper to Regaan, as his hand is lfited towards Giorgio with a smile, as he waits now for the answer to his questions.

Duarte is at the bar having a muted conversation with Zakhar. The count smiles as he mixes a drink and then places it in front of the older man to taste.

Duarte checks wits and alchemy at easy. Duarte is successful.

Zakhar takes Bandage hiding Shadowed metal knuckkledusters from Cross belt.

Reagan will lean once more into Teague and whispers to him. She finds the proper place to set down her cup as it seems the couple will be taking their leave soon.

Samira's gaze follows Desiree as she makes her choice of next truth-dare-drink participant. Returning to lean lazily against the railing again, she turns a curious glance upon Bianca, waiting to hear the question posed to the legate.

Savio casts an approving look as Duarte's taken the initiative to just start makin' drinks. It's that kind of party! As Giorgio has found Mirella to speak to, and Orland is dead to him forever for foisting off host duties on his co-host, Savio wanders over to greet the mysterious Merek as he waits to hear what Desiree is going to ask the Legate. "I don't know if I hope it's scandalous or I hope it's not," he muses, and then greets Merek! He hands him a drink, regardless of whether or not the black clad stranger has one already. "What's your name, friend, and where are you from?"

Giorgio has joined the lightly used, dark-red velvet couch.

Mirella has joined the lightly used, dark-red velvet couch.

Teague lifts his hand in a departing wave towards the others as his eyes meet Orland."Lovely party, I have duties I need to handle. Be safe." With that he is nodding to those he knows, as he is leading Regan out of the party with a soft chuckle.

Merek takes up the drink, to look at it while he nods to Savio. "Merek, I'm from Tor," he notes, taking a drink from that alcohol. He seems to be thoughtful while he scratches his cheek, thick stubble masking his face. He doesn't offer any titles it looks like, at least at the moment. He seems to be watching the game in thought, "Ah... Interesting."

Kane leaves, following Reagan.

Reagan leaves, following Teague.

A very localised bit of truth-seeking follows as Desiree leans forwards, hands on her knees, to inquire of Bianca, "What was the naughtiest thing that you did as a child in Blancbier that no one ever found out?" Grinning, she sits back up and snags her drink again for a sip.

Now that was a question! Whatever Orland had been doing (tending to RL), he twists back with a full out join smoking between his lips and eyes toward who ever got asked that question. Ooooh Bianca.

"Savio Pontelaeus," Savio introduces himself in return to Merek. "I have no idea where Tor is!" He sounds fresh off the boat from the Saffron Chain, himself, which might explain it. "You look like you're stoic, and maybe even responsible, you know I've got to aim to fix that, hey?"

Mirella nods to Giorgio when he asks about the bloodstones. "I did, yes. But as far as I'm aware, we haven't met before." She lifts her goblet in an explanatory gesture -- it's running low on wine now, just an inch left at the bottom. Luckily, she has a bottle tucked away behind the cushions. She doesn't refill, though, not yet. "I've been meaning to send you a missive so that we might meet, one merchant to another, so it's fortunate that we're here now. Your good reputation precedes you, I must say."

Merek seems to think about it, then he nods to Savio, listening to the game while he speaks, "Ah. I used to be a lot more fun to be around," he admits. "Well, anyway. Sure, what did you have in mind?" he asks.

Duarte has now poured himself a drink and toasted Zakhar's glass. All smiles. Very friendly. Friends are fun.

Savio overhears Mirella and yells across the boat, "RUIN HIS REPUTATION," before he looks back to Merek, and then raises his brows. "Why aren't you fun anymore, terrible deep dark things happened? Don't talk about them. Shhh. shhhh. No words." As to how to be fun again, he hands Merek another glass. He may have three now. "Start by drinking this. And then drink that. And then come let me know how you're doing." A friendly clap to the shoulder for the man from Tor, then he wanders over to go take Orland by the arm and steer him back to his previous seat.

Savio has joined the intimate, dark-red velvet love seat.

Giorgio's eyes shift out toward the others at the party as he converses with Mirella there at the cushions arrayed on the floor. He offers the other merchant a smile and moves to clink his bottle to her glass when she lifts it, then takes a drink from the rum within. He murmurs something back to her before he says, "Well, luck would have it that my brother Savio may actually have a knack for making connections for me with those who I need to meet! This is the second time." Then Savio yells out and he rolls his eyes. "You know... you try to give him a compliment and then he does that."

Zakhar smiles and nods to whatever Duarte has said to him, raising his glass to finish off the drink. Then turning slightly from his seat at the bar to see what else the game has gotten up to.

Her whisper of a smile broadened at mention of the days of their youth, warmth emanating from her at the mere thought of her family and yesteryears before the weight of leadership, faith and their name pushed those vestiges of childhood aside in favor of responsibility. Bianca tapped a long finger against the side of her glass as she thought. "Oh, there are so many things Damon, Dominique and I got caught doing.. but --- Well, you were very young at the time, I'm unsure if you'll remember. In any case, Damon started waking up in the morning and finding marbles across his pillow. When he told us Dominique decided that obviously he was losing his marbles, which sent Damon into a panic. Every morning, more marbles. Every breakfast, Dominique goaded him until finally Damon was so panicked that she was correct he rushed to your father and explained the situation. Dominique got in quite a bit of trouble making her brother believe he was losing his mind, however... I was the one who laid the marbles every night."

Smoke, swapped for drink, guzzled, swapped for smoke. Orland nods over toward Merek, warning with a thumb aimed at Savio, "He'll get you so high." Then he winks at Savio, turning to drift through the party, doing a little bounce strut, slide, through the crowd. There's a band playing in his head. But then his arm is taken and he pulls Savio into a dance turn, spinning Savio about, before he laughs, "Nooo. No sitting." He's grooving to some unheard beat, it's call the sound of a freaky woman.

Savio has left the intimate, dark-red velvet love seat.

Savio checks dexterity and performance at normal. Savio is successful.

Merek looks to the two dancing, then to the drinks which he was given while listening to Bianca's story. He shrugs a little bit then takes a drink in the order prescribed. He then seems to think about it a moment, even acquising to the whole 'don't talk about the deep dark things' which of course likely are on his mind.

Orland has joined the glazed-wood floor fit for dancing and music.

Merek checks stamina at hard. Merek marginally fails.

Orland ought to be careful what he wishes for, because if you pull Savio into a dance turn, you get Savio dancing. He's not even bad at it, owing to the fact that you can ride a total lack of shame pretty far to make up for no actual talent. It gets him through a lot of life situations. Are he and Orland hearing the same tune? NO. Almost definitely not. Does this stop him dancing? Also no.

A laugh follows Bianca's story about lost marbles, and he instructs, "Now it's your turn! Choose a victim, and ask him or her -- truth, dare, or drink!"

Desiree claps her hands together, delighted, and says to Bianca, voice full of laughter, "Oh, that's great. I hadn't heard that off Dom at all. Whole new meaning to losing your marbles there." She smiles wide to Bianca and finishes off the drink she had, her gaze flitting inquisitively around to see who Bianca might ask.

Duarte guzzles what remains of his drink at the bar. There's a final appraising look to Zakhar before the count drifts away and back into the fold of the party.

Someone with musical talent fills the bill, sees the two dancing and provides some actual music to step twist, roll to. The rando musician, can be easily joined if someone had legit talent.

Her gaze drifted to Savio as he encouraged the game to proceed forward, a wry little smile for Desiree catching her lips before she nodded toward the dancing host. "I wish I was better acquainted with everyone, but hopefully as the evening progresses that will come to change." Warmth remained evident in Bianca's features, her voice raising a bit more to address those who followed the game and she turned toward the bar where Duarte prepared drinks. "Count Duarte. Truth, dare or drink?"

Orland has a cigarillo in his mouth, his head pivotted upward as he starts to sway and move to the... empty no no real music! There's real music. It makes it so less creepy. In his other hand is a drink he is carefully grooving with. He smiles with the cig in the crook of his lips, but soon bounces and dances like a total commoner would in any bawdy tavern. There's some motion to Desiree, to Merek, to the people at the bar, to the others to join. The game can still play around them, but the movement definitely helps the body get all that liquor flowing into the body sooner. Maybe the kids just high, either way, he's twisting and bobbing.

Orland checks dexterity and performance at normal. Orland is marginally successful.

Duarte has left the circular bar with round shelving within, brimming with drinks.

Duarte was floating nearer about then. He doesn't stop walking toward Bianca when she asks the question. He smiles, "A difficult thing. I know this throng would likely enjoy the amusement of a dare, but you the comfort of a truth - which the former surely wouldn't deserve." He arrives, finally, before the legate. "A truth."

Savio checks stamina at hard. Savio is successful.

Zakhar moves away from the bar after finishing his drink in a gulp a quick glance to the room, then heads over to the dance floor.

Zakhar has left the circular bar with round shelving within, brimming with drinks.

Zakhar has joined the glazed-wood floor fit for dancing and music.

Samira checks stamina at normal. Samira is successful.

Zakhar checks stamina at hard. Zakhar is marginally successful.

Orland checks stamina at hard. Orland marginally fails.

Samira has been lingering on the outskirts of the crowd, content to keep to herself as she watches to the game progress. She's had enough to drink by now that when the dancing starts, rather than hanging back self-consciously, she joins the group. Her moves carry none of the graceful refinement that the peerage might, marked clearly as the moves of one who does most of her dancing in exactly this sort of setting - drunken gatherings.

Savio looks like smoke-drink-dancing is his natural form of locomotion. It might be. All these times anyone saw him walking, it's just an affectation, this is his natural habitat right here. He leans in to murmur something to Orland, king of kicking off the dancing here, and then calls toward Bianca over the music.

"It doesn't have to be raunchy... but make him squirm! Skewer him with that truth like an insect to a specimen board!"

Desiree slinks off the table's edge and to her feet, and, with a brisk wave, and a smile directed to Bianca in particular, she's off.

"Charming as ever, man of Bravura." The glass basin of her cup lifted in a small faux cheer toward the fellow fogey in appreciation of the compliment he spared her in his obtuse way. "You are wise to choose truth, 'lest you would be sopping like Orland by the end of this turn." Her glance drifted over the crowd, nod given to Desiree's departure with a smile before she looked back to Duarte. "I know this is a party game and I should choose a question for the crowd, but I fear no other opportunity may arise that you may reply genuinely." She inhaled a short breath in further consideration, but in the end her initial intent was put aside, "What was your greatest fear when you were first elevated to your current station?"

Merek seems to be contenting to walk around a little bit drunkenly and finds a place to settle in.

Duarte clucks lightly and cants his head. Did he just 'tsk' a legate?! Yes. But it was a nice tsk. A friendly, playful tsk. "Don't waste your turn, love."

Zakhar is in a hushed conversation with Orland on the dance floor, though turns to when he hears Duarte declare that someone is wasting their turn and shouts out in a gruff voice, "How about what was you expression when you first learned what a dirty pull meant?"

Savio steals a drink from one of the few hardworking servants. It was intended for someone else, and the server looks exasperated, which is ignored by Savio. "Wasted turn or not, she asks, and you answer!" he tsks the Count. It's a round robin of tsk'ing here. "It's the law." It isn't.

"I've made my decision," Bianca retorted, small smile ever lingering on her lips in expression of good humor. She turned toward the dancers, "Savio? Does he still have the option to drink if he doesn't wish to reply? Or has he missed his chance and honor is now on the line?" She redirected, though at Zakhar's gruff shout a soft snicker fell from her.

Savio snap-points at Bianca. "The second one," he assures.

Orland takes a drink from his left hand, balancing out the haze stick in his right, nodding toward Zakhar with a twist of a dancing sway, as he slams down the remainder of his drink. He goes back to bobbing a little, smiling over at Merek with a little wiggle of his fingers. He looks over his shoulder to laugh at something, puffing on his cigarillo haze spliff. He points a finger at Savio, "This is your fffauuult. I warned you." He chuckles at some inside joke as he continues to dance like a drunken fool.

"You heard, honor's now on the line," Samira teases, evidently curious to hear the count's answer. She tips back her glass to drain it of its contents and doesn't bother attempting to refill it - a clear indication that she must be departing. Even so, she lingers to catch this last round of truth, dare, or drink.

Duarte looks thoroughly amused, but also slightly disappointed that Bianca doesn't relent. He must answer or lose all honor. His word would mean nothing. His lineage worthless. His very name a thing that brings cringe and eyeroll to the masses of party-goers everywhere. Answer, he must. "Many. Most played out indeed. That I would become less a genuine thing once draped in silk. That distance would wrench away and turn sour my deepest love. That I would suffer long hours doing math. That the barest needs of a whole would consume entirely the yearnings and desire of one."

Orland flat stares at Duarte, "I said you can't be boring!"

Bianca's fingertips lifted to hover just before her lips, her brow knitting a touch in genuine empathy for many of the fears he touched upon, but even with that empathy the mournful undertones were still met with mirth. "Oh, I had asked for one fear and was met with a bouquet of them. So tragic, yet relatable in different capacities for so many. It is your turn, Count. Who will you ask?" A chuckle then sounded as she glanced back over her shoulder Orland.

"I'm not known for my listening skills, Orland," Savio replies over the music to his drunk dancing partner, "Or for my decision making skills." He does sort of spin out toward the side of the dance floor, a hand on Orland's uninjured wrist to bring him with, and pauses there to listen to Duarte -- with a hint of a smile. The answer's contemplated, but not picked on, and he prompts, "Your turn to choose a --" Ah, there's Orland. Bless his heart. Savio is not sober enough not to laugh, but he continues, "--A victim, just as our friend states."

Moonsilver, the pale-feathered raven arrives, following Raven.

Duarte steps aside. "Zeekher!" he shouts. Where is he...oh there he is! Duarte's eyes find the old man. "Which will it be?"

Zakhar checked luck + smithing at difficulty 9, rolling 42 higher.

Zakhar bops his head from the dance floor, "Tis 'ver 'ere! ah-- dare!"

a cabin boy arrives, delivering a message to Giorgio before departing.

Raven will find that the Debauched Boat Party is still in full swing. Savio and Orland were dancing, Zakhar is rollin' joints, an entertained Samira is watching the game but perhaps soon to leave. Giorgio and Mirella are engaged in quiet conversation, while Duarte and Bianca exchanged a round of truth! Merek is slowly getting drunk because Savio kept bringing him drinks, and Zakhar has chosen a dare from the Count! Musicians have struck up a tune, adding to the general clamor.

Orland is stoned and between the two others on the dance floor, directed this way and that. He pokes Savio in the cheek, like FACE cheek people, "NO Oldies next time. I'm going to throw myself off the damn ship..." he starts walking that way, but yank on his wrist, staring down at Savio's grip, "Let me jump man. I gotta jump!"

"That's a great many worries to carry," Samira notes after listening to Duarte's comments, momentarily solemn although Orland's remark brings laughter threatening. Setting her glass aside, she waggles her fingers in a wave of farewell to the group at large. "I gotta be going, but this was fun. I'm sure I'll regret having to leave so soon when I hear tales of debauchery and mischief tomorrow."

"RAVEN. Throw me off the ship!" Orland states when he sees her return.

Raven strides back in pausing halfways through the room to look around, gaze seeking someone or something. She points to Orland, "You!" She beckons with a finger, "Come here."

Duarte upnods from Zakhar to Orland. "Swat this one back the head, hmm?" The count takes a step or two backward to melt into the background now, with Bianca. A look of appreciation shot to Raven for dunking Orland.

Zakhar checks strength and brawl at normal. Zakhar marginally fails.

Savio is poked, squinting one eye closed as he does, and then struggles to retain control of the Orland. He fails, which leaves Orland free to try to dive off boats. "No, you're no good at the ocean! Land-o!" You have a new nickname, Orland. "You're balls at swimming! You're gonna look dumb and maybe drown, don't do it!"

Zakhar goes to back hand Orland and while his hand connects its also slidding off of the top of the boys head knocking his head into a tilt looking down. A loud clap is heard echoing through the room. Zakhar then goes back to puffing on the cigar that he's been chewing on. Nodding to Orland, "Tis betters without the bandage, yea?"

As Raven points at Orland, he twists, "Yessss ... What is it?!" He looks toward Savio with a frown, wait, was that a NICKNAME. Did he become cool person by having one of those?! Then there's something going on behind him -- SMACK --- momentum pitches his head forward, as well as his body. "Owww what the fuuuk...." he pivots around to face Zakhar with an indignant scowl, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah man, shit," he pinches his expression.

Bianca cast a glance aside to Duarte as he passed on a whisper to her and the reply was only a minute smirk, before she reached to give the man a light squeeze on the forearm before drawing back. A nod of farewell was given to Samira as she drifted down the deck toward the reclusive Merek.

Raven blinks and barks, "SAVIO!" She gives him a __POINTED_ look and points at him to indicate there will be WORDS later. She then strides forward and unless stopped will grab Orland by the arm and drag him away from Zakhar and leans in to mutter to Orland.

Zakhar looks around the room, the spots the 'victim' for the next round, the newly returned Raven is given his cold dead stare. Pointing to her directly, "Dae young'un pups. Dae Blacksheart. Whut's yer pen'ty?"

Savio should not laugh at Orland getting whacked upside the head. He should not. But he is, just peals of drunk-ass laughter, enough that he is helpless to prevent Orland's capture by Raven, nor does he heed the SAVIO that bodes trouble later. Instead, he steals another drink from someone, and bows theatrically to Raven. "Raven the Blackheart! A truth, a dare, or will you drink to avoid them?"

Engaged in polite and friendly conversation with Giorgio, Mirella nonetheless turns her head to have gander at what's going on with Orland. She looks momentarily bewildered (like WTF) and squinty-blinks a couple of times in a sort of mildly tipsy confusion. Distractedly she waves to Duarte before turning back to talk to Giorgio again, face falling back to calm once more.

Zakhar puts Bandage hiding Shadowed metal knuckkledusters in Cross belt.

Orland is fortunate that he's so flexible, passed around like a cheap trick, tch, being hauled on by Raven as he's tugged over and muttered at. The immediate response is a shocking "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAT!" He laughs, awkwardly, "She... we need... like... Now?" he inquires to Raven. He tries to whisper something. Oh it's going to be marvelous.

Giorgio looks up from where he reclines on the cushions as Orland is apprehended by Raven, his brow furrowing and the elder Pontelaeus keeping a careful watch on the situation as Savio involves himself. He offers a nod of his head toward Mirella at his side, murmuring something back to her though it is clear that he is still monitoring the situation closely from where he sits.

Orland mutters, "Sleep with you like ... ... sleep ... you ... .. ... sleep? You what... Whayyy? Like right ... ... Says who?"

Raven rolls her eyes and wrinkles her nose, "Ewww. No! Of course not!" She squints at him, "Never ever not even in your dream STILL applies." She brandishes a finger at Savio then and growls lowly, "Question is do you feel like a swim to or you wanna stay here to enjoy your party?" She grimaces and then siiiighs and relents though she is clearly Tense As Hell "Fine. Pick. I don't care and you'll make me suffer whichever I choose. You want a truth or you a dare?" D'aww. Look! The Blackheart is attempting to be...ah..supportive?

Merek looks then to Bianca and nods a bit to the woman, seeming to be relaxing from the drinking. The man seems to think about it, "It is nice to see you, Legate." There's an incline, and a rare smile for the woman.

Bianca leaned to set her half full glass aside as she reached Merek, the hand that once bore the cup now extending to the man palm up in offer along with a small smile. "Come dance with me Merek. I believe I still owe you one."

Zakhar smiles to Raven, "Naew, why'd Ay'd makes yea suffers? Ya keepsy dodgings me questions."

Raven rolls her eyes and wrinkles her nose, "Ewww. No! Of course not!" She squints at him, "Never ever not even in your dream STILL applies." She brandishes a finger at Zakhar "Don't you..." She grimaces and then siiiighs and relents though she is clearly Tense As Hell "Fine. Pick. I don't care and you'll make me suffer whichever I choose. You want a truth or you a dare?" D'aww. Look! The Blackheart is attempting to be...ah..supportive?

Orland looks like he's been slapped at the 'EWW' that Raven hails. POOR lad. He's cool. He's okay. He sweeps his hand through his locks of fine mousey hair. Rejection is so hot. "I need a drink-" that should answer her question.

Merek offers a light smile to Bianca, then he nods a bit to the woman. He does take the hand while he begins to follow along upon the ship proper while he shifts a hip, "You are doing well?" he asks. He begins to lead while he walks to a party waltz.

Merek checks dexterity and performance at normal. Merek marginally fails.

Duarte makes

Mirella stands from the cushions, giving Giorgio a pleasant smile as she waves to him her goodbyes. Then she turns to the rest of the revelers and raises her voice enough to be heard. "Good party. Thank you. Now I'm going to bed." To Orland, "Don't jump off the ship, Orland. That would be stupid."

Zakhar smiles a silly smirk back to Raven, "Ays offers yae a drink of Belk. A loves lil's conncot'ion thas mixes dark beir, bleed red wine, 'nd the moldiest cheeses we 'ans musters."

Savio wordlessly hands Orland a glass of what looks like Lower Boroughs Gut-Rot Hooch. It's from the cabinet! Press F to pay respects.

Duarte makes a perfect chaperone at the moment. The swatting of Orland and then the rejection of Orland being amusing things to watch. But after a minute or three he begins to walk and soon enough slips into an open stateroom.

Mirella has left the lightly used, dark-red velvet couch.

Stefano, an inconspicuous Lycene bodyguard, Carmela, a gleaming dusken-feathered crow, Ambra, a plain-faced Lycene scribe leave, following Mirella.

Elizabetta, a disapproving lady-in-waiting, Lily, an aloof lady-in-waiting, 6 Grayson House Guards, Clark, an exasperated guard arrive, following Sabella.

Isabelle, who is just so tired of everyone's nonsense, Sam, who is a boy and definitely not a princess in disguise, Roland, the worst bard in Arvum, Steve, an ungainly pelican, Sabella arrive, following Niklas.

Raven looks after Orland and siiighs "Well, I didn't..damnitall, kid, you're killing me. Here." she lifts a bottle to offer it to Orland but Savio swoops in with a bottle so she just abandons the bottle of Rum she's been carrying around all day like a security blanket and pinches the bridge of her nose like she's fighting a migraine, "Can someone please translate this for me?" she points at Zakhar.

Sir Alren, 5 Templar Knight guards leave, following Bianca.

Harlen, Bianca leave, following Duarte.

Sir Alren, 5 Templar Knight guards arrive, following Bianca.

There is a debauched boat party in progress! Some sort of game involving dares, and maybe truths, and a lot of drinking, is afoot. Musicians -- gathered from the guests rather than a hired troupe -- are playing music. No one is sober.

And also Orland is wet.

Zakhar checked luck + smithing at difficulty 9, rolling 36 higher.

Shortly after Mirella rises and makes to retire from the party, Giorgio rises up from the cushions he had been reclining upon. He drifts around the outskirts of the party, his eyes studying the boat as much as he is the party goers as he makes a round about trip back toward the gangplank. When he gets there, he turns to look over his shoulder toward Savio and lifts the bottle of rum high over his head to signify, 'I'm taking this', and then he steps atop the plank and departs.

Bianca checks charm and performance at normal. Botch! Bianca is simply outclassed. This is monumentally beyond them and the result is ruinous.

Savio seems to have understood enough of Zakhar's dare to Raven to instruct a server to mix dark beer, red wine... and moldy cheese. The server then presents this to her, looks at her like, 'good luck,' and then departs. Evil party host Savio gestures at Raven's cool new beverage. "There's your dare, hey. Drink up!"

Giorgio has left the lightly used, dark-red velvet couch.

Luxe leaves, following Giorgio.

Raven checks stamina at hard. Botch! Raven is simply outclassed. This is monumentally beyond them and the result is ruinous.

Zakhar checks stamina at hard. Zakhar is marginally successful.

Orland checks stamina at daunting. Orland fails.

Savio checks stamina at daunting. Savio is marginally successful.

Raven checks composure at hard. Raven fails.

Orland takes the Gut-Rot, swigs, then looks at Raven, full out deadpan, "I'm so stoned. Tell me when we sleep together." Though he doesn't make it to drinking that drink, because he's stumbling back... looking for a couch but deciding the floor looked about right.

Bianca moved with all the grace of years spent controlling one's poise. Displaying dignity and the utmost decorum. She moved with Merek down the deck to the area others were formerly dancing, shifting to better face him and taking up a familiar posture for a simple waltz before the pair began to sway. "I have be---" and then it all went terribly wrong. The grace evaporated. Her features shifted from their placid draw to instead become the picture of surprise and maybe a little bit of horror. Heel of her boot caught on that flow of aeterna and she was going down. And they were dreadfully close to the edge of the boat. Oh gods above, her first party in a year and she was going to eat it on the dance floor.

Merek checks dexterity and athletics at hard. Merek is marginally successful.

Raven eyes the glass dubiously "Oh please, I'm a sailor, I've had nastier." She takes the glass, gives Zakhar a flat look and chugs the glass. It lasts all of ten seconds before her jade green eyes bug out and her cheeks puff out before all of it comes right back out all over the now overused couch. Splat! "Oooh, GODS! That's FOUL!"

Raven says, "l"

Merek looks then to Bianca, he isn't leading the best. Then he notices when the woman is about to then take a fall. He considers within the moment, and wraps a hand to her waist, dipping her. Yes, that was just a very elite dip. He then swings to pull her back up. Marginally successful, because when he does that lift from what was definitely a fall and not a dip, he himself rolls along upon the ship, "Ah!"

Sabella and Niklas, impeccable in dress and demeanor, arm in arm like young love birds, stroll onto the boat as if they belong there. They believe they belong anywhere. They are Graysons, after all. Even so, that does not mean they can't have a little fun from time to time. "Look, my love, they're playing some sort of game." She looks up at Niklas. "And they have cake!" They love cake.

Raven looks disgusted and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and points at Merek "You!" She jerks her head towards Savio, "Take that one for a Swim. It's a warm night he could use a lil refreshment."

Zakhar quickly grabs at the glass that Raven is about to toss away, and proceeds to drink the remainer of the Belk. Smiling to the Blackheart, "Tis takes a lifetime tae like."

Orland drops A pack of Cherry flavored Black Mountain Cigarillos now with extra Haze.

Walking in with Sabella on his arm comes Niklas, The man dressed /secret prince/ like with the darker umbra and the near lack of adornment save for the neatly polished and shaped gems found across his outfit here and there. When he is handed the Haze cigar on entering he looks to it before looking back to his wife offering her a broad smile of warmth and love, "Oh party games!? Those can be most fun love, I once used Steve to win one you know." The man telling her about to launch into story only to look things over once more as he leans in and whispers, "Where did you say you heard about this again my muse?"

A pack of haze spliced cigarillos pops out of Orland's longcoat as he makes the floor his pillow.

"Hello hello hellooo," a weird Saffron Chain lilt greets the fine new guests! This is Savio, of course, evil party host. Good party host, Orland, is enjoying everything the floor has to offer right now. "Leave formality at the door for this one, my friends... and maybe also anything you don't want to get messy, hey? No kiss-assery here tonight -- unless you like the painting, then by all means -- and what happens on the Rising Sun, stays on the Rising Sun! Our game is one of truths, dares, and drinking..."

Savio pauses to pick up the cigarillos spilling from Orland's coat, and he pats him on the head before sensing imminent danger. "Merek, no! You can't throw me overboard! I'm the lovely host!"

Savio takes A pack of Cherry flavored Black Mountain Cigarillos now with extra Haze.

Relief engulfed her as soon as her tumble to the deck was halted in a jolt, stark white hair flowing out behind her and why she might like to think that this was a flawless save in which there was no notable notice of her faux pas... that was certainly not the case. Bianca was grateful nonetheless, her arms having chokingly tightened about Merek in that savior moment and when the man of Tor did his catch and a light laugh rose from her lips lighting up the entirety of her features as if the key to Bianca's spirit was in her smile. "I have been well." She finished her statement, relief still worn on pallid features. "Thank you, Merek." The latter was murmured in response to the save and she loosened her grip about his neck. "How have you been, Admiral?" She added the title to her question with a touch of slyness.

Raven checks strength at normal. Raven is marginally successful.

Merek checks dexterity and athletics at normal. Merek fails.

Bianca then glanced back as she realized her hero of a dance partner had just been called upon for a dare.

Raven siiiighs and steps over, stooping to scoop up Orland, "Before you go for your swim, Wastrel, where's this one's room?" she looks around and uughns, "Or where should I deposit him?"

"I do not recall, dear husband, but here we are!" Sabella smiles around at everyone on the boat. "I am certain all of these people are simply wonderful." She shrugs off her cloak and drapes it over the side of the boat. "Hello everyone! I am Princess Sabella Grayson. Do you know my husband? He is simply the most amazing husband. Prince Niklas Grayson, the acclaimed - no, legendary, playwright."

Merek looks over to Savio, then to Raven. The man nods a bit while he considers it for a moment. "Truth, dare, or drink?" he asks Savio, while he takes the man and casually just throws the man off the ship, almost getting caught in that rigging. Then he speaks to Bianca, "Ah, I'm doing well... It's been a while, and I missed seeing you about," he admits, his smile a little more obvious, while he seems to relax as the hold upon him does. He does touch the hand briefly, then nods. "Been... Dealing with a lot."

From the floor, Orland lifts an arm, "NO kissssss asssssery!" it's a half mutter in the floor, or into Raven's arms. He looks like he's gone and done himself in again.

Zakhar steps over to follow Raven. Offering help to carry the drunken fool Orland to a room if needed.

Savio gets pitched right over the edge, toppling ass over teakettle toward the water below. "Daaaaaaaaaaare," he can be heard making his choice, followed by a distant 'splash' as he finds his way to the water.

Zakhar shouts from nearby, "twas a luvely parts dear pups."

Niklas follows Sabella over, His own cloak is not actually pulled off though instead he draws it back off one shoulder as he looks the nice sized haze cigar. The man lifting it giving a little sniff before making a curious little face as he looks back to Sabella, "Oh as am I.. this smells different than the ones I had when the children were born." The man giving a little shrug of his shoulders though as he looks from his wife back to the group, the introduction from Sabella has his smile only growing as he moves to light the cigar from a nearby candle. Soon he returns to his wife's side his left hand tucking in against the small of her back as he looks at he game only to have his focus fall to Orland hearing the mention of No kiss assery, "We will do our best to refrain then and follow the rules of the party good man." The cigar lifted and a puff taken from it before he is licking his lips a bit in confusion.

Niklas is overheard praising Savio: A fine party! and a strange cigar!

Niklas is overheard praising Orland: A fine party! and a strange cigar!

"Perhaps you can come talk to me about it another time?" Bianca replied to Merek though her gaze was directed overboard as Savio hit the water. Once she was sure he was not going to drown she chuckled and looked back to Merek.

Raven is overheard praising Amund.

Raven is overheard praising Savio.

Merek nods a bit to Bianca while he seems to think about it. "You can come up, but you have to scale the side of the ship, no ladders." The man nods a bit, then he smiles to the woman, "I think that would be nice. A lot of things are different these days, I admit." He does seem thoughtful, "If you need be on your way, I can escort you to the deck." He thinks, "While I watch Savio climb."

"Am I being accused of... 'kiss assery?'" Sabella looks around, confusion evident in her expression. "I have the best husband in the whole of Aion!" Her voice is full of conviction, "I would never lie about such a thing."

Zakhar looks over to watch Savio 'fall' over the side of the ship, he then leaves Orland to Raven to deal with and grabs a cushion from the red velvet couch and tosses it over the edge, shouting down, "Taf yae used yer knifs 'ull climbs faster! Er, tuse da floaty cush, 'nd sleep it uff."

"I am in no rush as of yet, but as it seems my escort of the evening has abandoned me I would very much appreciate your arm." Bianca knit her arm with Merek's, following his lead as the pair waited to see just how successful Savio would be in barehanded climbing up the side of a ship.

Niklas checks stamina at normal. Niklas is successful.

Never fear, brave partygoers, Savio's an island boy, and that Saffron weirdo seems to have no trouble with the water, nor does he seem unfamiliar with ships! Granted, he's not usually clambering around them while this drunk (or is he?), so there are a few moments of climb climb... fall, splash. Climb climb climb... "AHFUCK" fall splash. Blub blub. Cling to cushion. Climb climb climb... and eventually, he does reappear on deck, a ridiculous, sopping wet mess. "Ayyyyy!" he congratulates himself with both arms held out wide, still holding a glass. It is full of sea water now.

"Merek, you'll have to pass a truth or dare to one of our new friends," he instructs the knight, before hefting up Orland, and holding on to his co host in something that's half hug, half carry. The intention seems to be to stash Orland in one of the ship's other rooms. "You guys have fun! We will be right back!" Someone should check later to make sure they're not dead.

It's that kind of party!

With so much going on within the confines of the boat and the party past full swing Niklas is looking upon the world around him with an eye afire with interest, seeking out every sight and every sound and yes even sadly every scent using every sense he could to take it all in as he draws lightly on the cigar. It's then that he hears Sabella speaking up with that voice brimming with conviction. The sight and sound of her defending her claims of his worth as a husband bringing a tear to his eye as his hand on her back draws across it. The man quickly leaning in to brush a kiss against he temple before looking to the departing Merek and Bianca, A dip of his head given to the two as he tells them, "Enjoy your night among the stars."

Raven siiiighs and looks around disgrunted, cradling the swooned man in her arms and eyeing the available resting spots dubiously. So she stands there awkwardly holding the man like he's a giant toddler that's passed out in her arms.

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