To poor Felix, the dom-jot table must look like something out of a fever dream. The surface is soft where he leans against the table waiting his turn and colored as rich a hue as a jazbay grape, but for two large spaces near the center of the table where all the walls and odd mushroom shaped lights seem to filter toward. When a few of the balls skim across this area it shimmers faintly and something about the material skews them to a slightly different angle than where they'd been rolling originally.

Jim's gaze is on his husband more so than the table they're playing at. He grins when Felix settles in and it only gets wider when the mage looks up his way, then to Delia for some kind of information to help him out.

"Here." The captain taps the pocket in the center of the table with the end of his cue, then lifts it to tap each of the corner pockets in turn. "Here too, but it's less points than th'center one." It's only now that the captain's wondering if he'll be much good at this. It's been actual years since he's played at all and he's definitely incredibly drunk a bit tipsy right now. It should be fine though. Why wouldn't it be? He's Jim freaking Kirk. They're here to have fun and he can definitely do that.