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Date Posted: 03:05:15 12/14/01 Fri
Author: Rowan, Laurel, and Tristan
Subject: Becoming pros at partying

Rowan could tell immediately that Isobel wasn’t very used to dancing, or else she just didn’t like it very much. After a few minutes, though, he could see her shoulders roll back a bit and the concentrated look on her face relaxed. Valhorek’s rather frenzied rendition of the song from Jeremy’s magic device made partnering a bit on the difficult side, though Rowan did his best to improvise. Although the way Marz and Jeremy were jumping up and down looked kinda fun, he didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to twirl and dip the beautiful Isobel a bit.

“This 'highway to hell'” she spoke into his ear so he could hear her better, “…it would hold many great adventures, no?”

He couldn’t help returning her grin. “Baby,” he laughed back, “We’re on the highway to hell, and there’s no turning back. Stick with us, and you’ll see what I mean!”

Rowan decided he’d never said a truer thing in his life. It now seemed as if he had to work to defend his life against the minions of evil on a daily basis, and damn it, he loved it. For a skittish nobleman’s son turned outcast adventurer, this little group of companions he’d happened upon was a frigging dream come true.

After the song ended, most of the dancers were a little whooped, but Valhorek obligingly went into a slow, sultry sounding gypsy ballad, the healer’s nimble fingers teasing the notes out of the lute the way he’d never heard his sister’s do. He recalled the man saying he captained a ship, or maybe it was only that he owned one. Whatever the case, it suddenly made sense that he would have such a wide repertoire.

As the song ended, everyone was started by a sudden announcement from Jeremy, of all people. Rowan chuckled as he led Isobel off the “dance floor” to the fireside, plopping down next to some of the others in their group. The two lovebirds were sitting side by side, looking as distantly friendly as usual, but Rowan wondered idly if a little alcohol and those shitty smelly cigarettes Jeremy was passing out would soon make them whistle a different tune together.

He laughed again once Jeremy outlined the details of his silly game, and he leaned next to Isobel and cocked a silver eyebrow at her. “Hey, now, you won’t try to kill me with that old sword of yours if I go and kiss you in that cave, huh?” he asked, throwing in a wink and a grin before sipping at the brandy one of the children handed him.

~*~*~*~*~

As Laurel listened curiously to the variety of new tunes singing forth from her lute, she sipped at the brandy-like beverage a little girl with dark, matted hair had handed her earlier. She could tell immediately that it was quite potent, and promised herself firmly that there would be no seconds. She tried to drink it slowly, too, but the thick, fruity taste of the stuff masked the alcohol quite well, and she found herself sipping steadily as the minutes flew by.

By the time Valhorek was pounding out a strange rhythm, with the even stranger lyrics being provided by an excited Jeremy, she was throwing her head back and laughing at the pair. She grinned behind her cup to see Corum dancing with one of the tribal girls, a circle of other chanting women surrounding the couple for some strange, apparently shamanistic reasons. Marz and Tristan were next, followed by Tia and Erlic, then Rowan and Isobel, with a few young tribe members joining in as well. When the ballad started up, some of the more exhausted dancers sat back down, though a few couples still lingered.

That’s when she remembered Ravin’s parting remarks. Funny, but she’d actually excused herself from Marz earlier, only to get mysteriously sidetracked again. Steadying herself with exaggerated care against a nearby rock, Laurel got to her feet and wandered over to the cave she’d seen him disappear to. When she got there, she couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped her mouth. Ravin was sitting on his knees, a myriad of misspelled words scratched painstakingly into the dirt.

“You poor sweet thing,” she said with a smile, kneeling down beside him. When she tried to squint her eyes and make out some of the words, the thief quickly moved to erase some with his hand, giving her a sheepish sort of smile. “Well, it’s a start,” she soothed. Then she pointed to one of the words still intact. “Kyri?” she asked, and he nodded. “Hmm. I don’t know about that spelling, though I’ve never seen it in writing. I’ll have to ask someone else—

She paused when Jeremy’s reverberating shout echoed into the cave, announcing the beginnings of one of his famous games. “Shall we?” she asked, holding her hand out to him. Of course, it seemed polite for him to help her stand, but she knew she’d need his support more than she was willing to admit. Unfortunately, he seemed a bit tipsy as well, but they managed to make it back to the campfire with happy smiles on their faces.

“They started without us!” she exclaimed, putting on a fake pout. “Where’s Erlic?” she asked, sitting down beside her brother. She gestured for Ravin to sit beside her.

“With Tia,” Rowan answered, nodding in the appropriate direction, “In yon old cave,”

He looked particularly remorseful, but she noticed that didn’t stop him from pulling at a strand of Isobel’s dark hair and winking at her.

“My heart goes out to you, little brother,” she said dryly. She then tried to convince herself she didn’t care who was in that cave with Erlic. What a silly girl she’d be if she did!

~*~*~*~*~

Tristan was mildly upset when Marz put off the meditation lessons, but he tried not to show it. Besides, he was too busy trying to keep his feet under him, as he was immediately hauled back up and whirled around to the strangest music he’d ever heard in his life. He was relieved when Marz pulled away from him, only because he was a little confused as to what was going on. But what happened next was even weirder.

He watched as first Jeremy, then Marz, began dancing in a new way, jumping up and down and grinning like idiots. Tristan frowned and cocked his head, trying to imitate their actions. It wasn’t hard at all, although he made one unusually graceful metalhead. He spun around and jumped and even let a smile creep out onto his face as some of the others joined in. When the last few chords died out, he was happy to let Marz drag him back to the outskirts of the dance floor around the fire, both of them trying to catch their breaths.

He sniffed suspiciously at the jug one of those dirty kids had handed Marz, his eyes widening in surprise. “Just like fruit juice,” he murmured, giving Marz a sidelong glance. “Right.” Marz shrugged and seemed completely oblivious to the stuff’s alcoholic content. But just as he was about to chug down another mouthful, Jeremy flopped himself down beside him, offering everybody around him a cigarette. Tristan didn’t need the fire to light his; he just gave a little huff of his breath the way he always did. Immediately, as he inhaled the sweet smoke, he realized this was one of the kid’s special cigarettes. He was about to snuff it out, remembering his plans to go cold turkey, but something stopped him.

“Hot damn!” He turned and stared at Jeremy, who began describing another game similar to the spin the bottle game they’d all played a few nights ago. Tristan’s eyes widened and he quickly took a few more desperate puffs from the cigarette, hoping the stuff would dull him out of his mind before the game could actually get started.

It didn’t work, but fortunately Erlic and Tia were the first to go, so he relaxed for a while, slouching slightly against Marz. He blinked a couple times and smiled, suddenly feeling a little less nervous than before. “Three minutes is a long time,” he drawled, holding the cigarette in one hand while he spoke while curling his other arm around Marz’s. “What’re you gonna do when you go in, hmm?” Despite his unusually easygoing manner and playful tone, the question was a challenge, even if he himself didn’t realize it.

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