[Silver Sliver Tavern] Self Service (Open)

[Keating Ash]

To Keating’s experienced eye, Cassandra appeared shy, but still open to his advances. A pretty distraction to be sure, though it remained to be seen if she was the talkative sort. His dark eyes followed the curve of her mouth and the line of her throat as she leaned closer, about to speak. And then… The man at the next table called Cassandra a whore! Cassandra turned and Keating shot a glare towards him, before his eyes returned to the barmaid. It was no matter to Keating if the girl was, or wasn’t a whore. But he could tell she was embarrassed, her cheeks were already flushed. Even as she tried to explain she faltered, the words jumbled and self conscious. Keating observed how she reacted and moved, and how the color rose with her discomfort. A whore would have reacted more smoothly to the barb. She was inexperienced and unprepared. His time spent working and frequenting drinking establishments, showed him this clearly. He continued to watch her, her unease sending a thrill of excitement through him. His anger began to soften, but she whispered and left, trailing away like smoke. And the anger that had begun to dissipate rose again. Keating was furious! Not so much at the insult, for if Cassandra was going to work in taverns she needed to get used to comments like these. No, Keating was angry that the girl had been pushed away just as they were about to get somewhere. Standing to his full height, Keating looked dark and intimidating. And it would not have been a surprise had he flipped the table over onto the masked man. His mind warned, do not engage this man. Do not! For Rose’s violence was still within him, barely leashed. His eye traveled over to the pretty barmaid, she pulled him in a different direction than the masked fellow. One more drink was all he needed to loosen and release the bonds of rage. And then he could breathe again. But this man… this man deserved… Wait, he told himself. Don’t let this man make you stupid! Keating was contained, but just barely. “You need that mask of yours adjusted,” he said, tightly. “She’s far too pretty for whoring. Here,” he said, “drink some of this instead.” And he pushed the pitcher of Silver Sliver nearer the man. “This’ll be stronger than that trash you’re drinking, and maybe it’ll temper your tongue in the process.” Turning towards the barmaid he added in a tone that wasn’t anywhere near a suggestion, “And I suggest you find some manners before I come back...” Keating walked over to where Cassandra was wiping down a table with her rag. His body brushed against hers as he maneuvered past some chairs and leaned over. A large hand settled on top of hers, right over the cloth she was using, so that they were gripping the dirty rag together. “Don’t pay him any mind, he’s just jealous is all, you being so pretty…” Keating’s body was warm, and his presence filled the space around them. The slight scent of alcohol hung in the air, though he did not appear drunk yet, “If he's upset you, I’d be more than happy to walk you home when you’re finished here… I’ll be right over there if you need me.” And he motioned back at the table, face still darkly serious.

[Annerito Uwak]

Annerito's mood changed from amused with a touch of annoyance to incredibly angry. His reaction was childlike. They weren't suffering. They were being brought closer by his words. He wasn't getting what he wanted, what he craved. Thus he was angry. Admittedly he had shown far more patience than he normally would. That could be considered an achievement in itself, but it was not the achievement Annerito was looking for tonight. Tonight he wanted to hurt someone, which he had done on an emotional level, but not to the person it was originally intended for. Physical violence seemed all that was left. He glanced at the two. Their words were hushed and he couldn’t hear them with all the noise in the tavern. He didn’t have to hear them though. He could tell what they were talking about. He could see the concern in the mans eyes. The hurt in the female’s eyes. They were growing closer. He had brought them closer. This realization fueled the fires of rage that were going into overdrive. He would have to correct his mistake and do it quickly. He got up from the table in a surprisingly calm manner. What wasn’t so surprising was the fact he picked up the stool he was sitting on earlier and poured the drink Keating had given him just a few moments earlier onto the stool, better safe than without a flaming stool. His intention was more than obvious. He was just wondering if anyone in the tavern would care enough to alert the poor sap. He doubted it. He was in Ravok after all, the city where chaos reigned, although it was a very orderly chaos. Bloody hypocrites. He strode across the room with his eyes dead set on Keating. Both hands were gripping the stool as tight as possible. He didn’t want it to slip after all. Once he had made it Keating he raised the stool above his head and brought it down, hoping break a bone or two at the very least.

[Cassandra Coven]

Cassandra wiped the table free of the wet circles left by cold mugs and colored spots from spilled drinks, scrubbing a particularly stubborn stain a little too vigorously, venting her frustration on it. The masked man had practically called her a whore! How offensive! How rude! Who did he think he was? He was probably ugly, hiding behind such a horrible looking mask, that's why he was mean and...and... insensitive! Yes, he was insensitive! Certainly, her interest in Keating was genuine; she certainly wasn't going to ask for payment or anything like that from him if their flirtations had led to that. He was tall and good-looking, not like the masked man's ugly facade. He was probably jealous! Yes, that must be it... Pre-occupied with internally working out her feelings and giving voice to the hurt the masked man had inflicted on her, the dark-haired barmaid did not notice the approach of the object of her attraction until he brushed against her from behind, startling her out of her thoughts. By the time she realized who it was, the man's large and powerful hand had engulfed her own small one. Cassandra could only stare at his calloused knuckles as he spoke quietly to her. His palm felt rough against her skin but she thought she detected gentleness behind his touch. Her cheeks reddened anew, whether from his compliment or his offer she herself could not tell. "Thank you," she mouthed. Her eyes met his for a moment before her lashes fluttered over them and she was staring at their joined hands once more. "You are kind, but I...do not have my own place. The proprietor lets me stay here until I..." Her voice drifted off, embarrased. She wanted to tell Keating that she would love to have a walk with him, but would he still want to after her admission? She looked up, hoping that the man was not turned off by the fact that she was poorer than dirt at the moment. Her eyes widened, however, at the sight of the masked man raising a chair behind Keating, ready to smash it down against the unsuspecting man's back. Cassandra gave a cry of fear and alarm, the only warning she could give Keating.

[Keating Ash]

Keating’s bigger hand gave a comforting squeeze to Cassandra’s smaller, more delicate one as she confessed to her living arrangements. The girl was embarrassed; he could tell. But in actuality, Keating couldn’t have cared less where the barmaid stayed. It only simplified things now that he knew where to find her. A reassuring grin appeared on his face and he stepped even closer, bringing his other hand to rest on the small of her back. “We’ve all been there, at one time or another. That isn’t something to be embarrassed about. I’ll tell you what, why don’t you and me-” Warning! Fear filled Cassandra’s eyes, and its cry sounded on her lips! There was no time for words. That kind of look only meant one thing to someone who had frequented too many taverns over the years. Fight! Keating ducked from reflex as his legs bent at the knees, and his body braced for an unseen blow to drop. Unsure where it would land, the man acted to protect himself and raised his left forearm and shoulder to hopefully block the attack as he whirled around to face the attacker. “Argghhh,” agony shot through his arm as a stool shattered down around it, knocking him down to a knee. The arm fell limply to his side, either broken or badly bruised, Keating didn’t know. All thoughts of playing nice were brushed violently aside as his rage took hold. Reaching out with his good arm, he grabbed the nearest stool and swung it out and around with all the force and anger he could muster. From his low position, he hoped to take the masked man’s legs out from under him and take him down. A deep growl sounded in his throat, as he saw who it was, “You ungrateful bastard! I shared my drink with you!”

[Verilian]

Cassandra Coven +1 Socializing Lores: Favortism, Why you Shouldn't Ignore the Ugly Ones Keating Ash +1 Socializing +1 Brawling Lores: Self Control, How to Drown Your Sorrows Expenses: - 1 gm for the mug, (the Pitcher is on the house as a reward for protecting one of its waitresses.) Annerito Uwak +1 Socializing +1 Brawling Lores: How to be an Ass Expenses: -4 cm for the drink You Question My Logic? : A point of socializing goes to everyone for all their conversations. The brawling is for what little fighting did happen.. pretty self explanatory I think, but if you think I short changed you or feel I missed something, please let me know. Notes: It's always sad to see a thread die, especially when it was just beginning to get interesting. Remember, don't start a fight unless you are willing to finish it.