Poseidon glanced about the cabin, wondering when last he'd been in a place so.... mundane. Simple. Dirty, perhaps, but one could only do so much cleaning without thumbs so he'd forgive the innkeeper this time. Throwing a party in such times was admirable! He wondered idly if it was just because, celebrating some achievement, or specifically raising morale in the dark times that'd apparently befallen these lands, but Poseidon didn't need a reason to let loose.
And the company was eclectic. One sung bawdy songs atop the bar, the faces of children peered from up above where they were barred from the festivities, several were claiming the dance floor. There was one on the steps with one of them that caught his eye especially: when he looked closer, he noted some of the kids, too, were vaguely familiar in the way Ampoule had been but also... was not. Nymphs were of course his first thought, but he recoiled from the idea. She was something older, something not made my the magic of he and his kin.
Alike, but different. He thought he mightve known the adult, seen her before, in another life, but he couldn't place her even when they met eyes. He looked away.
Languages of many tongues flowed through the space, and Poseidon was impressed with the spread if nothing else, the smells of different groups or lack thereof assaulting his senses; not all of these people lived here together, but something had drawn them all here together at the same time. Perhaps the inn was always like this, and down the coast, their revelry simply couldn't be heard.

There was one at a table that caught his eye; a scrappy little woman laced with fire and decorated with gold, the one demanding everyone have a damn good time. This, he thought, must've been the woman in charge. Her frame suggested some of the loose children were hers, but he saw nobody else clinging to her side to stake a claim.
The sea-eyed beast wound his way across the room and to the table, settling on his haunches to rest one leg on the table; playing with a berry beneath one blunt white nail. His gaze settled on Lyra, roaming her shamelessly.

What a party, he crooned, teeth baring in a charming, sinful grin, You seem to be a woman with good tastes, what do you suggest I try first?

Vasili had never been to a party, but there was one thing he learned today: he'd never miss one again in his fucking life.
There were people everywhere and more filtering in by the moment, the wide eyes of excited children gleaming from the balcony above, there were drinks everywhere, and a man was fuckin' singin' on the bar. People were flirting or eyeing each other in half of the corners of the room, that sickly sweet tempting smell was strong in his nose still, and personally, Vasili was hiding the hard-on of a lifetime from his place sitting. Somewhere in the crowd, it looked like dancing was starting. A woman passed him at the table he was being a glutton at, claiming that if she woke up remembering her name, someone had done her wrong. That earned a celebratory hoot followed by a tipsy I'll drink another t'that! from the dragon, and he grabbed another mouthful of sour bliss too, bursting the berries between his teeth to enjoy that tart splash against his tongue.

The bard howled about another song, and Vasili cheered him on, too.

Perhaps he'd join the crowd in a minute when, well, he was decent. For now he sat on a hip and pretended nothing was wrong, head bobbing to the song, thinking drunkenly of Neph and wishing he'd have asked her to come along, to have Creole watch the kids. Would she have been able to find fun in a place like this?