Light Teasing

Date: the very end of September 4288; night; cold rain falls from a grey-black sky without moon or stars. A raw wind blows from the east.
Place: Reaver's Latitude Tavern
People: Dagnee; Derek; Verookeh; Timothy; Antha

The Reaver's Latitude Tavern is where the locals come to drink, game, talk, and generally relax. The atmosphere in the main room is crowded, smoke-filled and noisy. In the southeast corner, to the right of the main door as you enter, is a large stone fireplace; on the other side of the door, a window shows the flickering torchlight from the village street. The furniture is coarse, yet comfortable; mostly plain wood, but a few of the chairs have upholstered seats. Hardly any of it has escaped the years unscathed, though; nearly every table, chair and barstool carries nicks, dents and stains, whether from bar fights or simply clumsy customers. The wooden floorboards are regularly swept clean. At the far end of the room is a long bar, and on the wall over it a large, hand painted sign. Behind the bar you can see a door leading to the tavern kitchen. A staircase along the west wall leads up to guest quarters where weary travellers can rest and relax.

Jonathan Bing says, "Greetings lass! Welcome to the Reaver's Latitude. Can I be getting you something then? Just take a look at our menu..."

Dagnee nods, her eyes have the slightest glazed look to them, she is feeling a slight buzz. "Settling.. marriage.. tis like a ham and egg breakfast.. the chicken was involved, but the pig... it was committed." she laughs lightly at her saying.. "I'm not looking for the "Pig" quite yet... I'm only..." she leans in to whisper, "..27." she takes another sip of her mead, "I guess I haven't found the right "chicken" yet... in a mannor of speaking." she giggles again.

Timothy moves his hand over his heart, his gaze on Verookeh, "Be still me heart..." A dimple appears in each cheek, "An' what would ye dae with me when ye goot me there, eh?"

Antha pulls the hood of her cloak back and shakes away the rain from her black hair. She gives a subtle shiver and heads to her customary barstool.

Timothy glances at the door, tracking Antha's arrival, "Antha... lassie, a guid eve."

[Timothy: Eyes the color of bluest skies are surrounded by long thick lashes of deepest ebony. His expressive eyes reflect a good natured warmth. Soft waves of jet fall to broad shoulders, curling gently to the nape of his neck. His shorter bangs constantly fall into his eyes and has created a habit in the young man of blowing the silken strands out of his way. Tango is 6' tall and speaks with a highland accent. He is quick to smile and in that smile is revealed two deep dimples. Eyes the color of bluest skies are surrounded by long thick lashes of deepest ebony. His expressive eyes reflect a good natured warmth. Soft waves of jet fall to broad shoulders, curling gently to the nape of his neck. His shorter bangs constantly fall into his eyes and has created a habit in the young man of blowing the silken strands out of his way. Tango is 6' tall and speaks with a highland accent. He is quick to smile and in that smile is revealed two deep dimples.

Tango is wearing a pair of thickly padded leather breeches dyed a rich deep red tucked into hard black boots that reach to just below the knees. The sleeves and the high collar of a white shirt of soft linen is worn over a heavier chain mail shirt. Over this is a long flowing tunic slit from hem to just under the arm, cut into fourths in alternating white and red. The tunic falls to his calves and is belted at the waist. Emblazoned across the crimson-colored right front of the tunic in thick white threads is embroidered a dragon rampant. A mirror image of the emblem is embroidered on the left chest, red thread on white cloth. A second belt rides lower on his hips and attached to this is a well-made scabbard. Emerging from the sheathe is the jutting grip of a broadsword fashioned with finest metals to form a simple but strong blade.

Circling high on Timothy's right upper arm is a dark band of ebony cloth... the sign of mourning.]

Derek licks his lips just to get them wet as he keeps his focus on Dagnee, "Twenty-seven? Goodness. Now you are making me want to kiss you." He grins.

Antha turns to the source of the greeting, her lips curving into a friendly smile. She offers a slight nod of the head. "Good evening, Timothy."

Timothy plays the lut, drawing for a few darker notes. He smiles warmly to Antha as he stretches out his legs, crossing them at the ankles in a relaxed aire.

Antha orders an ale from Bing and heads over to the only familiar face in the crowd. She stands in front of Timothy, savoring the dark notes a moment. She chooses not to interrupt his play.

Verookeh answers him with a broad, fangful grin, "Bruise you a lot."

Timothy winks at Verookeh before offering a nod to the open chair, "Join oos, Antha...be weellcoome."

Derek watches Dagnee flee and then shrugs, "Hmmmm....well, that was interesting."

Antha pulls out a chair with her foot and plops down into the offered chair.

Timothy looks over at Derek, "Ye an' yer juice be weelcoome tae join oos, Coousin."

Timothy nods to Verookeh, introducing the two women, "Antha...this be Verookeh..."

Music fills the air, as the minstrel begins playing A Fair Lady I Did Court.

Derek chuckles as he gets his drink and joins the little party. Antha and Verookeh each get a nod of greeting, "Good evening to the both of you."

Timothy adds to the introduction, "An, the yooung roogue here be me coousin, Derek."

Antha nods in return to Derek, accompanied by a polite grin. "Pleasure to meet the both of you."

Verookeh smiles, close lipped to the woman, then says, "Hello, Antha." some people are scared of fangs, and tusks aren't much better. Wimps. She considers the cousin, asking, "Aren't you the one....?"

Timothy laughs softly as Verookeh recognizes Derek. He'll let his cousin handle this one.

Derek's brows rise curiously at Verookeh, "Which one?" He leans back in his chair and takes a sip of his drink.

Bing looks around the room expectantly. "Who needs another drink?"

Antha takes a swig of her ale and listens quietly, though she is quite careful to look at Verookeh, yet not stare impolitely.

Timothy reaches out for his drink, claiming a swallow that drains the glass of its amber-colored contents. He flicks a look between Derek and Verookeh before giving his attention to Antha, eyes moving over her in swift assessment, "Ye lewk bonnie this eve, lass."

Antha arches a brow at Timothy. "You're stone drunk, aren't you?"

Timothy laughs, a husky sound slipping from his lips, "Hardly. Ye dinnae think yerself fair?"

Verookeh answers, "You made some rude suggestions to me when we last met." her voice low. She wishes she had her club with her.

Antha shrugs. "I've never looked in a mirror." She eyes you with serious contemplation. "Do I know you well enough to believe your words are not just meer pleasantries, Timothy?"

Timothy's smile takes on a serious edge, "Lewk tae a mirror, lass. Ye need na tak me werd fer it."

Derek's brows remain risen as he continues looking at Verookeh, "I did? What kind of rude suggestions?" He lifts his glass to his lips and takes a sip.

Antha smiles in return, but it is laced with curious suspicion. Finding the situation awkward, she takes a large drink of her ale.

Timothy shrugs, humming a soft lilting tune as he keeps an eye on Derek and Verookeh...hard to explain to his uncle that the boy was squashed. He murmurs to Antha, "Ye distroost me sae..."

Verookeh stands, a growl not unlike a Rottwieler getting approached, sounding from her throat, "You talkd to me like I was a whore, Ritchka." it took her a while to figure it out of course...but she caught it, eventually.

Timothy tilts his head back, a note of warning to his tone. Derek, he'll protect. "Verookeh..."

Antha opens her mouth to protest Timothy's statement, but stops short at Verookeh's accusations toward Derek.

Derek does everything in his power to keep his cool as he looks at the towering woman before him. He does lean back a great deal, pressing as far back against the chair as he can, "Excuse me? I did?" He looks...confused to say the least.

Verookeh's knuckles crack before she looks back to Timothy at his rebuke, waiting for him to continue.

"I think you have me mistaken for someone else." Derek replies just to prove that he's totally confused. His brow stays puckered in concern.
Antha's eyes settle on Timothy, hoping he will choose his words carefully.

Timothy puts his lute aside, rising as he moves to Verookeh's side, reaching up to catch her chin and draw her attention to him. He murmurs softly to the half-orc.

Timothy mutters to Verookeh.

Bing tamps down his pipe and walks to the fireplace for a coal to light it.

Verookeh might very well have taken a bite out of any other person to try and touch her face while in such a mood, she looks at the boy, then back at the knight and tenses her fist just once before she relaxes with some reluctance.

Timothy's fingers drift down Verookeh's arm, "I thank ye, lass." He glances at Derek, "Shouldna ye be in bed? Your own or some girl's?"

Antha visibly relaxes as the situation becomes calmer.

Derek smiles and nods to Timothy, "Sure, I should. I just think she's got me confused with Darren." For Verookeh's benefit, he explains, "My twin brother." He quickly finishes off his drink and then pushes his chair back so that he can stand, "Have a good evening." To Verookeh, he mentions his impending kindness, "I'll smack Darren for you when I see him later." And then he heads for the door.

Timothy winces, actually, trying not to laugh. "G'nocht, Derek."

Antha gives Derek a little wave.

Verookeh doesn't feel reassured, but she nods anyway.

Derek heads for the door, his lips curving into a larger smile with each step he takes. He's in a triumphant little mood, he is.
Derek has just stepped back out onto the street.
Derek has left.

A ringing chord marks the start of a new tune as the troubador starts to perform Greensleeves.

Antha whispers, "Why does he not have an accent like yours, your cousin?" to Timothy.

Verookeh lets out a low, rumbling sigh, then smiles meakly at the woman, "I'm....sorry about that..."

Timothy sighs after his cousin then looks up at Verookeh, "Me apooloogies...had I wit ye still held dislike, I wouldna have invited him fer drink." He tilts his head to Antha, murmuring, "He was raised in D'Image. Ah was raised in the Hielands."

Antha nods to Verookeh, unsure of why she is owed any apology. She hmms at Timothy's reply.

Timothy settles back into his chair, hooking an arm over the back as he crosses his feet at the ankles, casting a smile to Antha, "An' me accent isna as heavy as soome. Me k-night insisted I learn tae spake prooper coommoon."

Antha takes another swig of her ale. "I have a confession - I barely understood what that Cameran was saying earlier today."

Verookeh shrugs a little, "I talk worse..."

Timothy grins at Antha, "Aye...he is new tae the area...his burr be thick. He'll learn."

Timothy smiles at Verookeh, "Noow, lass...ye've been daein' right guid. Dinnae ye think itherwise."

Antha shakes her head at Verookeh. "Nay, I've heard quite a few indecipherable accents. You sound fine."

Timothy tips his chin, gesturing toward Antha, "There...an' Antha spakes weell." He pours himself another drink, heading into a nice buzz. "Me k-night was verra brutal aboot me learnin. It isna sae important in the Hielands...boot served me weell here in Waes."

Verookeh smiles weakly with a blush at the Knight's praise, then confesses to the woman, "I...try very heard to speak well." which explains why her words have been so slow and measured, "But...I slip if I don't..." how was it...?"pay attention."

Timothy grins, "An' Ah soound like Cam if I dinnae watch me words...sae, ye are far better ooff than me."

Antha nods sympatheticly. "And we're only speaking of languages. You could go on and on about dialects." Her own voice is smooth in the d'Image tongue, only the most subtle of accents.

Verookeh says something harsh and guttural, a shrug passing her shoulders, before a meak smiles touches her lips, "I not...did not...use this tongue much when I was a cu-..." pause, "child."

Timothy tosses down another tumbler of whiskey, his hand resting atop the glass as he rocks it back and forth contemplating some thought or other. He reaches for the bottle, filling his glass before returning it to the center of the table.

Antha finishes off her ale. "When did you start to learn?"
br>Verookeh answers, "I think...when four winters old." she sighs as she realizes she missed a few words, then, "But not many of my father's people liked me, so I only heard hurtful things when I got too close to the village. Mother's tongue is much easier for me." She looks to Timothy, then asks, "Are you alright...?"

Timothy lifts his eyes and smiles, "Aye, lass...relaxin'"

Bing raises a brow..."Aye, I could tell you stories about some of the high and mighty around here. T'would mean me life though, they don't take kindly to it, not at all!"

Antha teases Timothy. "Relaxing, eh? Do you ever do anything else?" Of course, she's in the tavern as much, or more so, than Timothy, but that's not the point. ;)

Timothy smiles faintly, "Ask me that should there be war."

Antha goes to clap Timothy on the back. "Hey, we enjoy your company. Right, Verookeh?"

Timothy chuckles, "Noow, that Ah wit...who else keeps ye entertained, fair damsals?"

Verookeh blushes faintly at the question, but nods, "Yes, very much." if there was a war...maybe she could get some real coin rolling in, but then a lot of her friends might get hurt. Damn...Double-edged swords!

An evil smirk spreads across Antha's lips as she recites something he once said to her: "Now, that wouldn't be very discreet, now would it?"

Timothy grins, lifting his glass and tossing down the drink. "Asides...th'k-nights have returned an' Ah am ooff duty." He clucks his tongue, "Sae, Ah celebrates." He shoots Antha a quick look then grins, casting her a wide grin.

Antha leans closer, looking Timothy square in the eye. "What're you celebrating?"

Verookeh looks toward Tim, now, curious about that herself.

Timothy leans close to Antha, his breath warm and rushed with whiskey, "Me freedoom." He waggles his brows.

Antha mock-pouts, "Oh, it's not the anniversary of the day we met?" She chuckles to herself and orders another ale.

The troubador leans down to check the tuning of his instrument for a moment. Satisfied, he starts to play I Know Where I'm Going.

Verookeh blinks and looks oddly at Antha, then Timothy...

Timothy sits back, gazing at Antha, "Met? Hmmm..." He promptly glares at Eric, "Smart-ass," before he smiles to the two women.

Antha's ale arrives and she accepts it graciously. She looks to Verookeh and says: "The highlight of my day is teasing Timothy. You must forgive me of my sick enjoyment."

Timothy smirks, "Aye...terrible tease she is tae, Verookeh..." He nods, turning his glass over to signal he is done...

Verookeh nods, "It ok...I just...will pob...prob..." hell with it, "not understand jokes."

Antha grins. "In your defense, my jokes aren't exactly gut-busters."

Timothy tilts his head back, rolling it a bit to work out some kinks. "Nair mine."

Verookeh smiles weakly, "Better than mine, yes?" She'd curse herself later, but for now, she's relaxing her brain. Enough practice on the tongue for now, right?

Timothy closes his eyes, lacing his fingers over his belly. "Why did the chicken crooss the rooad?"

Antha groans and rolls her eyes at Timothy.

Verookeh tilts her head a little, "Why?"

Timothy grins at the groan, "Tae shoow the poossoom it could be doone."

Verookeh blinks once...then twice and stares blankly at the Knight.

Antha puts her fingertips in her ale and flicks her finger at him.

Timothy cracks an eye, getting a few drops of ale sent in his direction, "Sae...I win fer worst jookes."

Antha smirks at Timothy and says, deadpan: "Well, everybody has to be the worst at something, eh?" She adds: "Course, telling bad jokes isn't it."

Verookeh shrugs and says, "I bad flirt."

Timothy smiles at the ceiling, "Bad as in guid, or bad as in bad?"

Bing sighs to himself sadly. "The stories I could tell..."

Timothy cracks an eye, gazing down his nose at Antha, "I dae hoope ye arena referrin' tae me skills as a loover...since ye havena tred that groound tae joodge."

Verookeh finds her cheeks flushing suddenly and seeks out a simply -fascinating- spot of woodgrain on the tabletop to examine.

Antha rolls her eyes at Bing, always talking to the voices in his head or whatnot. She turns back to Timothy, her eyes wide and honest. "True...but this town likes to gossip." It's hard to decipher if she's joking. (OOC: depending on how well you know her, she is)

Timothy clucks his tongue, "Noow see here...na fair tae pick oon the oonly male in th'area. Bad form." He rises slowly, lacing his hands above his head as he arches into a stretch. "An' Ah've ne're had a coomplaint." He smiles darkly, "in fact...they ulwaes coome back." Usually holding out a wedding band!!! Which is another word for QUEST!!!

Antha whispers _very_ quietly to Verookeh: "It's so cute when they get defensive about their swiving skills."

Verookeh's cheeks darken even further at whatever suddenly catches her ear. Wow, look at the absolutely beautiful texture of that knot!

Timothy catches if not the words, the whisper and casts Antha a smirk of a smile, "An' with that...Ah will seek me bed afore me egoo is nathin' boot tatters."

Antha sticks out her lower lip and gives Timothy eyes like a puppy. "You're right, I'm sorry Sir Timothy."

Timothy rests a hand on the back of Antha's chair and bends, murmuring near her ear as he casts Verookeh a smile...a response to her growing blush.

Antha senses: Timothy murmurs softly, his breath hot, "Anetime ye wish tae find oout fer yerself...give a yell."

Verookeh clears her throat a little, but, for the life of her, her brain is completely derailed, right now.

Antha gives Timothy a coy, teasing grin in response. "Goodnight, Timothy."

Timothy straightens, his smile a bit tired and a bit off...he's flying on a buzz. He moves over to Verookeh, "Ah'll see ye soon, lass."

Antha let's her eyes slide up and down Timothy, then downs her ale, waves to Verookeh, and heads for the door.

Verookeh reaches up and gently clasps Timothy's arm, "Sleep well, yes...?" she says, then twists awkwardly to wave at Antha, "Bye! Be safe, yes?" she calls hastily.

Antha replies to Verookeh, "Not if I'm anywhere near Sir Timothy." She winks.

Timothy chuckles, smiling after Antha before he looks to Verookeh, "Aye, lass...Ah'll sleep verra weel..." On a nice haze.

Antha yawns exaggeratively, then pushes open the door of the tavern.