RP:The Stolen Kiss

Locke :: The old Tavern door creaks open, a cool October breeze pouring in with the pale moon light as Locke slips inside the popular establishment. Dressed from head to toe in warm greens and brown, a cloak pulled over his head and bow strung over his shoulder, there is little doubt left that the man is a fabled Ranger- keeper of the forests. He first turns towards the local board, eyes swiftly taking in all the information thereon, before making his way to the bar nearby. Mesthak, his normal jovial self, addresses the man immediately. "What kin I get ya?" he inquires, leaning attentively towards his new customer. Locke places his order quietly and privately, his voice loud enough only for those he intends to hear. The Dwarven barkeep, obviously put off by this man's lack of cheery demeanor, turns with a grumble and fetches his drink before moving on to the next customer. Locke takes it with a nod and silently enjoys his whiskey. He minds his own business, seeming rather sullen, and obviously lacks the people skills of most who frequent this Tavern.

Chaine blew in with the autumn chill, a more sullen and weary look on the scientist's face than was customary. The usually cheery woman was in a foul mood: her experiments today had all been tampered with, her brain was still receiving signals from her missing left pointer finger, and there was something in the back of her mind, like a presence, just sitting there… It all combined to make for a sour night. She made her way to the bar, quickly and succinctly ordering her drink from the dwarf behind the bar. Drink firmly in hand and already on its way to her stomach, Chaine made her way to a booth at the side of the tavern. She passed by a man in earthy tones, sipping straight whiskey at a table, but paid him no mind. The crackle of energy could be heard, ever so faintly, to pass through the establishment, and when Chaine sat down she found that her drink had been neutralized, changed to water and a precipitate. "Dammit!" she cursed, throwing the glass against the other side of the booth. She didn't even duck as the broken glass exploded everywhere. "Can't even get a drink today…"

Eilyo saunters into the tavern, immediately turning to peer at the board. With a heavy sigh, the woman mumbles under breath, probably unheard in the crowd of the tavern. "Where in the bloody hell are they?" She shakes her head, turning her back to the notice board to study her fellow patrons. Soft, moss eyes dance around the room as she takes in the people. Brushing a loose strand of burgundy from her face, the woman's long, slender legs carry her over to the bar, where she proceeds to gingerly take a seat on an empty barstool. She offers a brief grin to Mesthak, for the moment not ordering anything. She crosses one slender leg over the other, adjusting her dress accordingly as she continues to people-watch.

Locke is torn from his somber state by the shattering glass and placid taste in his mouth. He glances over his shoulder, eyes shrouded in shadows cast by the earthen hood of his traveler's cloak. He would have said something if the Tavern were less crowded, but in this case there's no way the white-robed woman would have heard him speak. Instead, the ranger merely stares, boring a hole in the top of her head before ordering a new drink. Having turned back towards the bar, he notices Eilyo seated next to him and, with an unseen roll of the eyes, scoots one stool away. Mesthak places the new drink in front of him, grumbling a quick, "Here ya are," at his less-than-cordial customer before moving on to the others. Lifting it to his lips, Locke immediately spits it out upon tasting and, for the first time this night, speaks aloud. "Barkeep!" he demands, "The hell are you serving?" Mesthak inches back, the two exchange words, and after trying several different bottles the dwarf concludes, to his astonishment, that all of his alcohol is little more than water.

Athyaron spots someone sitting by herself and decides he is best suited elsewhere. Making his way towards the area she was sitting he would take the next empty seat nearest her. "Eilyo how fare you this night?"

Eilyo blinks a few times, turning her attention to Athyaron. She grins slightly as she recognizes him, brushing that pesky strand of burgundy from her face. "Ah, alright, despite getting nothing about the Bard's Guild." She nudges her head towards the board. "Seems nothing's changed, eh? Still nothing but bickering and threats and various other idiotic nonsense." The woman shrugs her slender shoulders here, glancing to Mesthak. "Rum, love." The woman focuses her almond eyes on the elven man next to her, a polite grin playing on those lips of hers. "And how are you, eh?"

Athyaron frowns slightly as he hands Nancy some coin seeing as how Mesthak was busy. "Brandy please Nancy...." he says to the barmaid. "Sorry to hear about the Bard's Guild and aye nothing has changed. Too many idiots with egos that think they run the place." His own sage green gaze would shift over to the woman. "Other than that I be alright. What of you?"

Eilyo glances briefly at Locke arching a brow at the man. She grins playfully, a light chuckle slipping past those full, rosy lips of hers. "I won't bite, ya know." She blinks at her drink, tilting her head. She frowns at Mesthak. "Ya change the rum, dear?" She shrugs, sighing softly. She'll drink her rum at home it seems...she has plenty there after all.

Locke :: Mesthak stops what he's doing, quickly running to the back in search of, hopefully, unscathed bottles of alcohol. Soon enough, he returns and announces, "Nothing to worry about, folks. Ya want it, I got it. Just... In the back."

Eilyo grins at the dwarf. "I think you already know what I want."

Athyaron grins as she takes note he had asked twice. "That I have my apologies." he says as his gaze shifts upon the one that had yelled. "No need to take your frustrations out on Mesthak." the ranger says calmly as Nancy drops his brandy off, causing the ranger's attention to shift back to Eilyo. "I might not need it no,but I find a glass or two at night to be... well relaxing." Raising his own glass to his lips the treeborn too would notice something was wrong with the drink. "What in the name of Lauria?" he says as he glances at the glass more carefully. "That wasn't brandy..."

Eilyo said to Athyaron, "Seems something happened to the drinks. Mesthak found safe stock it seems, however."

Athyaron said to Eilyo, "Good. Sad it seems others have no life outside of playing childish pranks no?"

Athyaron holds a hand up as Mesthak offers to give him real brandy this time. "It's quite alright Mesthak..just save mine and Eilyo's for next time. Put both on my tab." Nodding Mesthak would remember as the treeborn turned his attention towards Eilyo. "Tell me Eilyo have you ever used a bow before?"

Eilyo arches a brow at the elven man, studying him a moment. "I can pay for my own alcohol, thank ya, and...if I say I haven't are you going to offer to show me how?" There was a playful gleam in those soft eyes as she waited for his response.

Locke ignores Eilyo, turning, instead, to address the bar tender. He speaks inaudibly again, mumbling something about crap alcohol and free drinks before Mesthak takes off to the back and returning with two bottles of his best whisky. The ranger pops the cap off of one and drinks deep, offering a sigh of refreshment and a tip of the bottle to Mesthak before settling back into the same rhythm of monotony as before this whole 'ruined alcohol' ordeal.

Eilyo glances briefly back at Locke with a frown, she didn't take well to being ignored. She watched him for a moment in silence, contemplating. "Not very friendly are ya?"

Athyaron grins. "I'm well aware that you can Eilyo I just wanted to be nice." However the fact he had just been busted surprised him, as evident by the look in his eyes, even if it had only lasted for a second. "Maybe,but that all depends on what you would say if I did." he says playfully.

Eilyo grins and chuckles as she glances back at the elven man. "Ah, I see..."

Athyaron frowns, thinking he might not get this shot. "You want me to go ahead and ask don't you?"

Eilyo said to Athyaron, "You can certainly try, love."

Athyaron said to Eilyo, "Would you like for me to show you how to use a bow Eilyo? I can guarantee you a bullseye on your first shot."

You takes another deep draw of whiskey before setting the bottle on the table with an empty clang. A hand reaches up to scratch his shadowed brow before the ranger turns to Eilyo. "No," he quips, "Socializing tends to lead to -these- sorts of encounters." With that, a single digit flies in Athyaron's direction. "Though I suppose if you find the prospect of this… man stretching over you to 'grasp his bow' attractive, by all means, socialize."

Eilyo said to Athyaron, "I'm sure you can." She grins and chuckles, brushing back a strand of burgundy. "But can you guarantee you'll be keeping your hands to yourself, eh?"

Athyaron said to Locke, "*as he unslings the bow from his shoulder* My offer is genuine, not some ploy."

Athyaron said to Eilyo, "Of course. I'll keep my hands to myself."

Eilyo can't help but grin at Locke, she leans towards him idly, whispering, not wanting to offend Athyaron, as she was quite sure she probably would if he could her.

Locke chuckles lightly, if not a bit hostily. "I've no doubt," he says, not needing to swing it 'round to make the oaken bow slung across his back obvious, "But some of us actually use our bow for noble reasons."

Eilyo was now watching the conversation between the two men on either side of her with interest.

Athyaron reslings his bow as his attention remains on the human. "Mine are noble. I teach others to defend themselves. Eilyo be no exception."

Eilyo says nothing and takes a drink of her replaced rum in order to continue remaining silent; men will be men and she knew better than to get in the middle.

Locke offers little more than an eyeroll in Athyaron's direction before raising the second bottle of whisky to Eilyo. "As I said," he simply states as he open the bottle on the table's edge.

Eilyo grins at Locke. "Ah, you should cheer up some, love." Here the woman shrugs her slender shoulders, eyeing her rum. "But who am I to say anything?" She turns on her stool now, fully facing the man. "Name's Eilyo. Would I be able to get yours, or are you so unfriendly that I can't know your name?"

Athyaron simply shakes his head, elven lineage kicking in causing him to mutter something about "know it all humans" under his breath as he turns back to Eilyo. "You have my word,hands stay to myself."

Eilyo - Without turning to face him, Eilyo holds up one slender index finger to Athyaron, indicating she would return her attention the elf in a moment.

Locke sighs, setting the freshly opened bottle back upon the countertop. "Locke," he says, the irritation no longer filtered from his voice, "Now don't you have some 'target practice' you need to get to?"

Eilyo flickers her gaze towards Athyaron a moment before glancing back at Locke. "Want to have a drinking contest?"

Locke turns his whiskey bottle up, drinking deep before responding, "Not particularly, no."

Eilyo arches a thin brow at the man. "No? Well, why not?"

Locke said to Eilyo, "Because I," he taps his drink, "Am two bottles ahead, and women are much less tolerable once you get them drunk.""

Abaelith sits down and yells aloud "Okay, I`m going to prove to Mesthak here that us dwarves are supperior when it comes to alcohol!" he blabbers on and on before dropping a pouch on the bar counter "5 of your strongest brews mate"

Eilyo said to you, "Less tolerable?" She arches a thin brow. "Even being two bottle ahead, I bet you I can win."

Locke shoves a thumb towards the intrusively loud dwarf. "Look there. A drinking partner!" he declares with mock excitement, "Now lemme alone." The man's annoyance is becoming quite obvious now, though he keeps his cool and his seat in hopes that she'll grow bored and leave.

Eilyo said to you, "I bet if you win I'll never bother you again in any way, shape, or form for as long as I live, and believe me dear that's quite a long time. And if I win, you simply have to be a little nicer to me if I say hello to you. Aye?"

Athyaron said to Eilyo, "I'll take you up on that contest."

Locke slides back in his stool, his head resting upon his arms as he folds them on the counter. "Can't you just leave me alone," he asks, clearly aggravated by the constant annoyance that is Eilyo.

Athyaron said to you, "*clearly pleased it's his turn to chastise* Your manners towards ladyfolk are clearly in need of adjustment."

Locke lifts his headed, nodding sagely. "Aye, they are."

Eilyo tilts her head. "Why do you want to be alone, Locke?" Her voice was soft now.

Locke ignores Eilyo.

Eilyo said to you, "Oh come on now. Why do you want to be alone?"

Locke does more ignoring, this time while drinking whiskey.

Eilyo pouts a bit, a soft sigh slipping past her full, pouty, rosy lips. She turns to her rum, taking a drink in silence. How was she gonna get through to him?

Eilyo sighs heavily, turning once again towards Locke. Soft words are mumbled as she lays a few coins on the bar before him, intending to pay for his drink, or any future drink. "Sorry..." With that, the woman grasps her bottle of rum firmly in her slender hand, slipping gracefully from her stool. Taking a long swig, she saunters from the room, this particular path so often taken she didn't even need to really pay attention. Why had this bothered her so much?

Locke finishes up the last of his whiskey, slipping enough coin to cover the cost across the counter and leaving Eilyo's untouched, before collecting himself and heading out the door into the chilly October air.

Eilyo was leaning against the wall of the tavern, empty bottle of rum hanging limply in the arm by her side, her gaze focused idly towards the rest. She wanted to cheer up before heading home, she didn't need to be questioned by her children after all...

Locke slips out the door and, upon noticing Eilyo, makes his down Kelay Way headed in the opposite direction.

Locke continues heading towards his intended destination, Eilyo's soft footsteps not falling upon deaf ears. Eventually, he spins around, looking her square in the face, and demands to know how long she plans on following him.

Eilyo stopped just short of the man, peering up at him, a frown etched on her pretty face. "As long as I need to!" She seemed rather determined about something; in truth that man had rather offended her and she intended to let him know just how much so.

Locke takes a step back, looking down at the girl with a face as annoyed as hers is mad. He waits for several seconds, as if expecting something, before, "... As long as you need to what?"

Eilyo continued to frown at the man as she suddenly moved closer to him. She prodded at his chest, her face very close to his, though that wasn't entirely on purpose. Her thin brows were furrowed together with frustration and the musical quality was almost lost in her light, alto tones. "What in the bloody hell is wrong with you? What could have possibly happened to you to make you so unbearably cold?!"

Locke said to Eilyo, "I've been to many places, Kelay not the least of them, and I find it best to stay... Uninvolved." He hardly reacts to the girl's sharp pokes or close proximity, though after saying his piece, he turns towards the forest to the south. "Now," he continues, "If you'll excuse me..."

Eilyo makes to grab Locke's arm as he turns away, growling softly under her breath. "I don't excuse you! Being uninvolved and being an ass are two very different things and sir, you were being the latter!" The angrier she got the more her accent came out.

Locke pulls away from the woman and towards the forests, held back only by the angry clutches of a woman scorned. He makes little attempt to tear away, instead spinning back towards the woman and, in a moment of wild abandon, planting his lips firmly but tenderly across hers. His free hand slips up to the crook of her neck and, if but for a split second, he enjoys the intimate touch of another human.

Eilyo was shocked to say the least by this sudden gesture. Her soft eyes grew wide as she stood there, unsure what exactly was happening, her slender form tense. After a moment she relaxed, resting her slender hands on his chest. She pulled back ever so slightly, her face still dangerously close to his, her voice low. "What...was that?"

Locke pauses for several seconds, peering into the girl's eyes. Finally, before she could break the silence, he breaks away. This time, -he- offers the, "Sorry..." before running off into the forests, perhaps never to be seen again.