[Kulkukan Tavern] How About This Weather, Huh? - [CLOSED]

[Meera]

By the time Meera had washed, combed and braided Darksand's mane and tail, she was thoroughly exhausted. His blue chin was something she needed to tackle as soon as possible before it got sticky and grimy, and she must have washed his mouth for a full bell before it was clean. All the while, Meera could see the wild birds of Riverfall attack others. Her eyes were brought together in her confusion - she just didn't fully understand Djed, and probably never would. The fact that Aren had used Djed, too, sat ill with her. She could understand why that bothered her at least: she cared deeply for him, and how she understood magic was it was to throw parts of one's self away, and the young Drykas wanted her Akalak to stay intact for as long as possible. Images of him withering away bothered her mouth into a tight line.

She wiped sweat off her brow with the back of her bad hand which had started to throb with the pain of exertion. She couldn't favour the wrist though because it had been injured. Meera needed the extremity up to full capacity and soon, especially if Aren was going to teach her how "to kill him".

Perhaps it was just an issue with the weather, this Djed storm causing everyone to act a little unorthodox, she concluded. The blonde certainly never made a habit out of crying as nothing ever came from the act. There was no good or harm in crying, and it was seen as pointless in the young woman's eyes. But now Meera's eyes were dry as was Darksand's buckskin coat, and so she had a promise to upkeep with her partner. At least that bit of knowledge made her smile, and smile she did as she dusted off her hands onto her brown, slightly splotchy pants.

For the first time in a few days she took stock of her appearance. Her chemise was still stained with blood from the antelope even though she had washed the garment several times. Dark brown spots rippled through the linen. Now that she had a place at Aren's side officially, she might wish to dress more appropriately. The Akalak would want a woman who looked like a woman, perhaps, instead of the savage little girl playing at swords with the boys. She sighed, and gathered her pack.

Night had fallen on the Kulkukan when Meera returned to the tavern, dressed in her same clothes, but with a few nicer garments folded in her pack. They were not by any standard fancy, or even should they be classified as "nice," but they were new, and they were not her standard fare of cream coloured chemise. There was even a dress involved. The blonde settled her pack at the table Aren typically favoured and took her seat, waving to Chell and Nys. She motioned for two mugs of ale and sat back, arms crossed over her bust as though to hide her blood stains. The smile at the knowledge of her position on the Akalak's arm - although not fully understanding what that really meant due to her inexperience - was still plastered on her face. Seemingly random, the young Drykas was shown to blush occasionally as she was lost in her thoughts.

[Aren]

Aren emerged from the top of the stairs, looking tired and weary, just as Chell was preparing to bring Meera her two mugs of ale. The akalak intercepted the bar maid, who handed the glasses over with a bit of a giggle. Planting the two mugs on the table, Aren took a seat opposite the drykas. He pushed both of the ales towards the girl, honestly wanting to see if she was capable of drinking them. Of course, if she did that, her head was going to be pounding so hard the next day that he doubted she'd be able to stand, let alone train. It would be a good lesson for Meera to learn, however, so the akalak wasn't going to try to stop her. "Nys has found you a room," Aren said, after he had gotten comfortable in his chair. Honestly, he suspected one of the mugs might have been meant for him, but he didn't quite trust himself to drink in his condition, in her presence. As he sat, once again alone with only the drykas and his own thoughts, the akalak could almost feel his will being eroded by her smile. Aren wanted to tell her not to smile, not to look at him with those big brown eyes that made him smile, but he couldn't. Unwittingly, he leaned slightly forward across the table, his gaze analyzing her lips for a precision strike. After a moment, however, he caught himself, the fact that he had acted without thinking not even surprising him anymore.

[Meera]

"Waiting not too long? Bought some clothes." Meera explained her absence and punctuated it with tapping her pack with her foot.
Her arms unfurled as she leaned closer towards the table and him, when he sat down and settled in. She pushed one of the ales he had delivered back towards him once he grew comfortable. If she had felt so poorly after one ale, what made Aren think that she would be capable of handling two any better? At least Meera had eaten some of her rations in the cellar, so that wasn't too terrible. Maybe she could handle herself with some decorum this round.

"Got you a mug," the woman explained as she motioned to the lonely stein between them, "understood you might be upset over storm."
It was bought to cheer him up, and having little knowledge to the act of courting someone, she thought it might be a nice gesture to do lest she make some grievous errors in the future. Meera had thought to get him one of those Severed Head sweets he said he was so fond of, but with the commotion in town she thought she was lucky that the clothes were available for purchase and did not want to press it further. The ale should suffice, she settled in her head.

"Oh? Am surprised." Her eyebrow raised to further demonstrate herself as she collected her own mug and brought it to her mouth. It wasn't as bitter as she remembered. As she swallowed she wondered if the room that Aren and Nys secured for her was the same one, or in any case the same style. Had she been forced to upgrade, she wondered. If so, she probably could not stay here long. The Drykas had no income, and living off the land did require some supplies. There was the option of the women's shelter, if that had not fallen in the storm.
"Same room?" She inquired, strictly to make conversation.

[Aren]

"Thanks," Aren said softly, not wanting to reveal that he didn't have any inclinations towards drinking, lest questions arise as to why. He accepted the mug, placing his hand on the handle as if to give the impression that he would eventually drink it. "It's... not the same room, but there's practically no difference," the akalak offered, purposely hiding how he had managed the feat when the inn looked to be packed to the rafters. Aren smiled, trying to shake off the doubts in his own mind. If there was one thing he knew without a second thought, it was that he wasn't willing to give Meera up. Come djed storm or psychopathic personality shift, that was the only constant in his mind. Right now, that was the only center he had, the only source of strength. If it wasn't for that one penetrating thought, he feared Seros would have already thrown off his shackles. Of course, if it wasn't for the drykas, Aren wouldn't be such a mess anyway, but that was besides the point. "It should serve your needs, as it-" the akalak stopped, catching himself mid-sentence. She didn't need to know how he had procured a room for her in an otherwise booked inn. He figured she could assume that, Nys being his friend, he had worked something out... or whatever else seemed plausible. "As your old room did," Aren hastily adjusted the end of the sentence. The akalak eyed the mug in his hand with a look of longing. Perhaps a drink or two wouldn't hurt, he told himself. Even an entire mug wouldn't get him drunk, after all. "No... I can't," but he knew that even if the effect was almost zero, he couldn't afford to put any more strain on his already faltering mental fortitude. Meera's proximity, her near ever-present occupation of his thoughts was already doing that job admirably enough. Nys, from across the room, could tell that poor Aren had it bad.

[Meera]

"Ah, good," She added to the conversation. "Only need bed and door in any case."

Meera was a really simple girl. The dress she had bought was one of those things she was already regretting, knowing she may only wear it a handful of times before it became useless to her. She wasn't dainty or high-maintenance, or fragile or any other feminine word Meera could think of. She was sturdy and strong, despite the womanly shape she was growing into still. A bed was almost a luxury at that to her simple desires, and the door was only a matter of protection from her stuff getting stolen.

"Thank you, Aren, for having room found for me." Normally Meera did not say thank you. The blonde added to it with a small smile. She was typically a silent woman and usually when she did speak to someone new it was short and sweet, to the point. No long conversations, no idle chit-chat. Now that she had trusted for the first time someone other than Patros, now a softer side was revealed. Now, the need for chit-chat, for long conversations was apparent, and Meera found herself in want of them, though she did not know what to say.

It was because of this that she filled the silence by taking more of her ale, a loving gulp of the brew. The blonde let it sit in her mouth a moment, almost to savour if not force herself to love the taste. It was an Akalak brew, and Aren was an Akalak. She felt she should be embracing his side, to show him how she cared, even if she could not explain it. Having swallowed her large swig, Meera regarded him as she settled her mug.

Aren always seemed so happy. He always had an easy smile on his lips lately, even when he kissed her. He always seemed to be relaxed, confident and collected. Now as she looked at him, she noticed he had lost his smile. It was as though the storm had affected him more thoroughly than he wished to admit. He wasn't even taking his ale. Her eyes softened as she looked away from him, worried that she might have petched this relationship up already. It wouldn't do for a long standing record, she thought. To be in a relationship only maybe three bells long and to have it fall to pieces? Tomorrow he planned on teaching the Drykas how to kill him... These could not be good signs. Was Aren sick? Did he have dreary thoughts and wished himself to die, but hadn't the courage to do it himself?

Dignity was a large portion of the Drykas life. She could understand wholeheartedly why he would not wish to kill himself - there was no dignity in the act. To give up, to perform the ultimate cowardice was something Meera would not tolerate, but she certainly could not see such a strong emotional attachment to a city partially wrecked by a storm.
Meera could - and likely should - ask what was wrong. The petite blonde did not want to pry, she told herself. The truth was she did not wish to know the answer. If Aren wanted to die, she would be happier never knowing the truth.

Or maybe, she comforted herself, and the thought was written on her face with a raised eyebrow as she thought it, this was Seros.

He had told Tahl of his 'personality quirk' - which she had thus far assumed was simply a split personality, based on the way he had answered the other Akalak's question. She had not thought the the other personality could possibly be violent, however, so in Aren's sudden change in personality, a far more sullen, serious Aren, Meera thought it to be Seros.

Or maybe, she counter-balanced the hopeful thought with an immediate negative one. Maybe he didn't like what he heard about her past.

She stiffened in her chair, already convincing herself that Aren had made plans to sell her back to Endrykas. Perhaps Aren knew all along that Ysane was Meera, perhaps their relationship - their companionship - was all a lie from the start. A lure, or bait.

Her mouth was set in a tight line as she hurried frothy ale to her lip. She gulped twice before setting the drink down. The room was getting a touch spinny now that she had nearly finished the mug.

"Drink, Aren." She spoke, breaking the silence. "The pulse of my run should never be sad."
Give me proof I'm not petched. Give me proof you haven't fired my arrow, she begged of him in her thoughts.

[Aren]

Aren smiled, taking a deep breath, "You're right," he said, suddenly sounding more like himself than he had sounded the entire day. The akalak realized that there was no point in risking so much to be with Meera if he couldn't even enjoy the time they spent together. If he was going to be sullen and moody around her, if he was going to be someone he wasn't, then hadn't Seros already crept into his mind? Hadn't he already won? "I'm not sad," Aren offered, taking a hearty swig of his mug, "I'm just concerned that you won't be able to keep up tomorrow," his lips curved upward as he made the statement, however, revealing the fact that he knew better. "I mean, you are very small... and that is a very big mug," Aren teased, hoping she would go for the bait. The akalak knew that Meera had a bit of a proud and stubborn streak, and even hinting that there was something she couldn't accomplish would likely have her attempting it out of sheer spite and determination. "I'm sure you can handle one, now that you have practice, but two?" Aren nodded his head and shrugged his shoulders as he suddenly came down with a about of mock uncertainty, "I don't know... I just don't see it." The akalak made sure to pay close attention to the dryka's already slightly distorted body language, hoping to see if the girl gave any indication that she was biting. "Maybe one and a half... tops," Aren added, rather nonchalantly, almost like he was making a rather obvious bet with himself.

[Meera]

At least he was smiling, and that knowledge made Meera's own smile regain strength, pushing out her bad thoughts. She matched his healthy swig with one of her own, struggling to keep the mug steady while using her good hand - a hand she was definitely not used to using. It was easy to smile when Aren was smiling and her previous thoughts were almost forgotten completely about.

"Glad not sad," She said with a bit of breathy laughter trailing her words. Aren continued to talk and it started to become clear that he wanted her to drink both mugs of ale. Under normal circumstances Meera would have risen to the challenge - and easily succeeded - but Aren did not know those thoughts she had would creep up as she played suspicious to his motives.

"Trying to get me drunk, Aren?" The smile faded as her brow knitted once more. He had become so difficult to read tonight. She couldn't gauge any of what he said as truth or deception. In any case, Meera would have preferred herself to say something to the effect of would rather take my ale off your lips, or something comparable that would suggest kissing him again, and the words were almost on her lip before the notion that he get her drunk for his own reasons came to the foreground of her mind.

Was it really to have her fail at their training in the morning? If so, then surely he did not want to die. Was it Seros trying to render her incapacitated so she would offer no resistance to being sold back to the Drykas?

"Last time I drunk you were nak-- ..." She blushed, remembering the stark white towel once more.
"Last time I drunk you took me to ..." bed, was how she wanted to finish the sentence and lead into would you do it again?, but there was one other thing Meera needed to say first. And she would say it, just after she remembered what it was. She hiccoughed.

"Last time I drunk I told you real name... was Meera." Suddenly the memory came washing back, seemingly formed from the fabric of the sky itself to unfurl and reveal itself. Yes, she remembered with stunning, drunken clarity! She drank another healthy chug of ale.
"You know me. What I said in stable-- I tell anyone else? Did you?"

[Aren]

"I wouldn't dream of it," Aren said, feigning seriousness for a moment, before casually dropping a bit of his own ale into her nearly empty mug. The akalak watched with continued amusement as the alcohol Meera had imbibed began to well and truly take it's effect on her. Her inability to finish a sentence was charmingly endearing, but it left him with little room to reply. Instead, Aren just sat there, his head comfortably propped up by his hand. He seemed to be waiting for the drykas to figure out what she wanted to say, intermittently taking sips from his dwindling ale. Finally, she decided on a topic. It was one which, the akalak realized, Meera most readily talked about when she was inebriated. The subject of her exile (if that was the proper term) was a delicate one, and one that seemed to always be in the back of her mind. Aren could sympathize, having a similar problem of his own. "Your secrets aren't mine to tell, nor would I be inclined to reveal them, even if they were," he replied, rather matter-of-factly. "But, I suppose someone could have overheard you... the last time," Aren had to admit that it was a possibility. Meera hadn't been very subtle, and was certainly loud enough. At the time, the tavern had been rather void of patrons, however, so there was a good chance no one had overheard her. Nys and Chell had been close by, but Aren doubted they would have had the time or inclination to pay attention to the ramblings of a drunken bar goer. "I think you're in the clear, though," he offered with a sincere smile, trying to reassure her.

[Meera]

There was no panic, though she really should have. It was strange to tell yourself to experience an emotion you didn't usually experience, but then again, today was a strange day. The ale at least loosened her inhibitions and allowed her the ability to speak and say what she wanted to say - a trait more commonly found in her Drykas brethren, not Meera.

"Did not tell? All this time and did not tell?" Meera smiled wide, deciding that she could trust him implicitly with anything. He had known for over a week? two weeks, now? and he had told no one - so he said, but Meera decided to take a leap of faith. Meera could only pray that she would land somewhere relatively close to Aren.

"That good. I worry. Little smile tonight, Aren. Worried did wrong some way. Glad you want me still." She reached for him with her hand at his vest, pulling him close for a bruising, almost insulting kiss.
"Still want you." A hiccough punctuated it, but made it no less true.

She didn't shrug off the extra ale, though she did laugh and joke about it.
"Will drink under table!" She exclaimed, never fully understanding the phrase. Why anyone would drink under a table, and why anyone would think that was a good thing, Meera had little knowledge of it, and she decided it was likely an error in translating.

She had to wonder though, this business still to settle about her room. It was still a pressing thought. Had asking him to find her a room made him upset, then? If he had remained loyal to her and her secret, had requesting him an errand been a mistake? Perhaps it was best she did not inquire more about the room.
"What room is number yours?" Ah, being drunk always caused people to petch up their sentences. Meera laughed.
"Ah, ahaha, mean what number is your room. Is what I meant. To say." She laughed some more. "We are close? Have dress to show later." Not that she thought Aren would particularly be interested in the dress, but she had pride, and she wanted mainly to know that the dress she purchased met his taste. It was best to distract the question at hand by explaining her reason. The more swigs of her ale the young blonde took the better it seemed her decision to buy a dress. She hadn't had a dress in well over a decade. Dresses and crying were things best left for little girls, and Meera had packed up all of her toys long ago.

[Aren]

Aren merely shrugged, not thinking that big a deal of the fact that he had not blabbed her drunken rambling to everyone he met. He had know, when he heard it, that it was not something he should be divulging. Doing the logical thing, in his opinion, was nothing to brag about. The akalak did not, however, complain when his actions awarded him with a rather forceful kiss from Meera. He could tell the drink had left her rather out of control, but he wasn't complaining. Humans had that luxury, and it was one the akalak envied. "Still want," Aren parroted, without hesitation. He laughed at her assertion that she would drink under the table, her ability for inadvertent humor beginning to impress him. When the drykas asked about his room at the inn, however, the akalak conveniently ignored her question. The mention of a dress, however, he could not. "Dress?" he asked, genuinely curious as to what Meera was talking about. Was that the "clothes" she had bought? She was rather skunked, but the girl was not prone to making up stories while she was drunk, as it was, in fact, quite the opposite. "What kind of dress?" Aren had to admit that he wouldn't mind seeing her out of the rugged attire she generally wore, but the girl had never struck him as the type to wear anything else. He wondered, for a moment, what could have prompted this desire. After a few seconds, though, his lips involuntarily curved upward, as he realized why.