"A Night for Forgetting"

Log Date:
	12/3/99

Log Cast:
	Sabrienna, Nox, Tara, Richard, Caioma, Raven (NPC emitted by Tara),
Melete, Tybio, Jenara, SunHawk

Log Intro:
	House Nemea has come to Haven -- and brought with it the woman who,
fourteen years ago, was responsible for Richard's exile from his family, and
his ultimately fleeing to Haven to take up the life of a thief.
	But Nemea has brought with them someone else, too. Much to Richard's
shock, he has discovered that there is a black-haired but white-winged girl
in the company of Dulcinea's family, one who bears a disturbing resemblance
to Richard himself. This half-darkling child has caught her "Uncle Julian" 
spying upon her and her mother -- Dulcinea -- in the City Park. She's greeted
Richard with undisguised and unbounded joy, but her finding him's also led
to his reunion with Dulcinea...
	And the discovery that young Moirae is his daughter.
	Reeling from this revelation, Richard has fled the park, desperately
in need of a distraction, something, anything to shut down his mind for a 
while so that he can postpone trying to absorb this latest shock to his
existence. And the best place he knows for such a thing is his old reliable
refuge, the Siren's Song...

----------
The Siren's Song - Haven
     The dim recesses of the Siren's Song tavern have, on occasion, been 
  justifiably referred to as "a barbarous assault upon the senses." In the 
  stale air the earthy smells of alcohol and the subterranean fungi from which 
  Varati rot-gut is brewed compete with the scents of blood and vomit. The 
  walls, painted vividly with sea-scapes from an Atlantean fever-dream, slope 
  slightly inward as they arch to the sooty, star strewn ceiling, which itself 
  sags slightly, supported only by a massive central column. This column, the 
  feature the tavern is named for, is carved into the likeness of a siren, and 
  she beckons lustfully to patrons, leading them through the ring of garishly 
  painted tables to the cracked oaken bar.
     There is a stone fireplace against one wall, to drive away the damp and 
  chill on wintery evenings. Opposite that is a set of stairs, rising to an 
  upper level where guests can spend the night--or just a couple of hours with 
  a willing partner.
Contents:
Sabrienna
Nox
Tara
Loreena
Obvious Exits:
Stairs <U>  Out <O> 

Sabrienna nods and face flushes with heat, but does not color. She sips at 
  the ale, just standing beside Nox for a time. She calls over Raven and after 
  a brief discussion with the bartender, she slips the Atlantean a coin. Her 
  hand briefly, very lightly, rests on Nox's arm. "It's on me," she tells him 
  softly.

Nox nods to Sabrienna, yet retracts his arm slowly from her touch. His glass 
  gets filled with the clear liquid another time, but the dark Empyrean takes 
  only a sip. "Thanks. 'ppreciate the offer, Sabi." Despite the slur, his 
  voice is still warm and friendly.

Tara turns so she can watch, then after a moment, slips off the table, moves 
  to Nox' other side, hand resting on his other arm.

Sabrienna takes up her mug and sips at the cool ale, looking askance at Nox. 
  She doesn't know what has caused him to drink so, and it's just itching at 
  her to find out. However, due to the rules and Tara's recent reprimand, she 
  stays kindly quiet.

During the raucous night, practically anyone can blow into the Siren's Song. 
  The door's opened and closed enough that one more person on his way in his 
  fairly negligible, but that's just fine -- Richard is not exactly of a mood 
  to care who sees him come in. He stalks into the place looking a trifle 
  odd: more disheveled than usual, perhaps, his movements a shade less 
  graceful, a shade less precise than seems to be his wont. But his gaze is no 
  less alert, and it doesn't take much to espy Nox and his companions at the 
  bar. For just a moment, he halts, struck by the sight... but then, his mouth 
  set in a grimly determined line, he resumes his stubborn course in that 
  direction. The bar means things to drink, a lot more potable than the swill 
  Gelthurn usually stocks.

Tara glances over her shoulder. Spies the new arrival, pushing hair out of her 
  eyes in a gesture evidently borrowed from Jen, and frees up a barstool on 
  the opposite side of her to Nox for him.

Caioma steps into the tavern from the docks outside.
Caioma has arrived.

Nox removes his second arm from Tara's touch, slipping both hands in his laps 
  and keeping the arms close to himself. His blank gaze returns back to the 
  half-empty glass of whisky. "Thanks for carin', both of ya'. Th'affection's 
  appreciated. Just...might be misunner...misunderstood." After the words, he 
  reaches again for his glass, to take another sip, not daring to look around 
  himself, as if he's afraid. Richard's entrance is, of course, totally missed 
  by the dark Empyrean.

Sabrienna sits on the far arm of Nox and leans forward to say something to 
  Tara, only to spot Richard, a bit , hm, determined. She ponders on what's 
  wrong with the men tonight, but instead of speaking it, sits back on her 
  stool and takes a few steadying gulps of the ale.

Probably earning a few wary looks from the various patrons enjoying an evening 
  at the 'Song, Caioma enters dressed in an easily identifiable Hound uniform. 
  Posture erect and stiff, the dark haired woman pauses at the entrance with 
  her helmet tucked under one arm. That she's noticed by anyone upon her 
  entrance goes unacknowledged as she just looks around. A faint, nearly 
  invisible smile forms. Some things never change. Especially not the Song. 
  Not in heart at least.

Even before he claims that stool Tara's opened up for him, Richard's pulling 
  forth coins from a pocket and plunking them vigorously down upon the stretch 
  of wooden counter before him. "Gimme summat older than I, mate, and I dinnae 
  care what," he bellows out in a ringing, lilting tenor to Raven, the first 
  words he utters. Only then does he plant himself on the stool, adding 
  gruffly to Tara, "Thankee, lass." Sabrienna gets a curt nod. And Nox... 
  well, Nox gets a narrow-eyed look of consideration, before Richard jerks a 
  thumb at the younger man and calls out again to Raven, "Summat older than 
  what he's havin'!"

Raven produces something evil looking and dangerous from the dusty bottles up 
  to, and pours Richard a shot. Tara, meanwhile, leans against him, idly 
  playing with the top button of his shirt.

Even though Nox' gaze is focused on the glass, somehow feels the attention of 
  the older man on him. As well as the slipping effect he has on Tara. His 
  head turns slowly to Richard, but his vision needs a few more seconds to 
  adjust. With wide eyes, he stares at the other man, before he finally 
  figures out who is sitting in front of him. "Ave Rich," is all he manages, 
  in a still vaguely comprehendible greeting. "Drink's good here." With that, 
  he lifts his glass and empties the rest of the clear liquid from it, then 
  slams it back down on the top of the bar counter, demanding, "One more."

Sabrienna has a good idea that she will have to put up more coins for Nox 
  during the length of the evening, since she offered to pay. Lucky her. 
  Leaning up on the bar again, she smiles at Richard. "Hello, Richard. Yer 
  lookin'... uhm, tasty t'night." There's a wink that follows. She spots the 
  Hound and with a small groan, returns again to her seat. Fortunately, she 
  thinks, Nox's wings will block her from any kind of clear view.

The one of the things that's notable about this particular Hound is that she's 
  alone. Neither of the two others that should be patrolling with her are 
  along. Eitherway, Sabrienna's probably not as lucky as she hopes because 
  Caioma smooths the smile away from her lips and turns to stride towards the 
  bar itself.

Evil-looking and dangerous is about what Richard has in mind for his 
  intoxicant of choice at the moment. As Raven sets that shot before him, a 
  grin sharp enough to splinter wood flashes out across the newly arrived 
  man's pale elegant features. The glass is deftly seized up, and, lifting it 
  in a toast, Richard glances sidelong at Nox. "Ave, and here's to yer flyin' 
  again, eh?" With or without wings. From the look of him, it's pretty 
  apparent Nox is halfway skyward already, courtesy of Raven's finest. 
  Apparently determined to join him, Richard steels himself and then belts 
  back the contents of the shot glass he holds. It blazes down him with enough 
  heat to make his eyes water, and he has to cough a little before he can rasp 
  out to Sabrienna, "I thought that was s'posed t' be _her_ line!" And he nods 
  at Tara, turning his head slightly to grin up at her.

Tara grins back at the mongrel, as Raven tops up both his and Nox's shots - 
  'you've had enough' is something rarely heard in the Siren, and most often 
  from one of the girls. Blonde hair brushes Richard's cheek, and the young 
  Cyprian nuzzles his cheek. "Wanna spend some o' that on me, mm?"

Melete steps into the tavern from the docks outside.
Melete has arrived.

Nox offers Richard a wry, unsteady grin, his eyes blinking a few times to make 
  the second Richard dissapear. "Be glad I didna' tell you," he offers with a 
  throaty chuckle. Then, with a bit more dampened voice, he mutters, "Yeah. 
  Flyin', flyin' 'part, if yer' askin' me." His wings flutter a few times 
  clumsily, sweeping by accident right into Sabrienna's back, only to get 
  retracted again hastily to his back. Nonetheless, he lifts his arm steadily, 
  to let the two shotglasses meet in mid-air with a quiet 'clink'. "Som'day, 
  we need'a talk. You'n I. But nae' t'day."

Sabrienna chuckles and calls down to Richard, "Ne'er were I one not t'say 
  m'mind. Can't help if I share views." She pushes away her own empty mug and 
  shrugs to Raven when he offers her another. Nearly pushed off her seat by 
  Nox's wing, she grins or grits, and reclaims her chair. "Take care, Noxie."

Melete smiles over towards Sabrienna

Reaching the bar, Caioma stands a bit away from the gathered folks, though her 
  dark eyes do glance down and take in each person, evaluating, categorizing, 
  judging. The Esper-Reeve remains quiet a moment longer then turns her 
  attention on the bartender. That invisible smile curls her lips again. She 
  remembers the Atlantean man, "Raven. Is Jenean about?" It's been four years, 
  but of everything /that/ must stay the same at least.

The big Atlantean pauses in his polishing of a mug. Grunts. "Upstairs. Might 
  be working." He nods at Tara. "Ask her."

Tybio wanders in and begins to make a comment in his normal fassion, but 
  chokes it back silently as he sees the Hound, and instead turns sharply to 
  one side and heads for the hearth.

"Talk later, drink now," Richard agrees, as his glass clinks against Nox's. 
  Tara, indicated by the bartender, still happens to be playing with Richard's 
  shirt -- and Tara gets another crooked grin that doesn't quite reach his 
  eyes. "Maybe later, luv," he demurs, "'less ye're askin' me to buy _you_ a 
  drink." Finding his glass refilled, he lifts it up again to drink. The fumes 
  of the stuff Raven's poured him make him blink a few times, but he gamely 
  starts in on drinking it down regardless.

Tara laughs, softly, and steals Richard's cup for a quick and cautious sip, 
  that makes her cough and giggle. He does, then, get a kiss stolen, before he 
  gets the glass back, "Sure y'll be able t' later?"

Tybio warms himself by the fire, keeping a wary ear on the conversation, if 
  not an eye.

Dark eyes shift from bartender to Cyprian. Caioma doesn't recognize Tara, but 
  that doesn't mean too much. Keeping her gaze on the blonde girl and Richard, 
  the Hound just waits. Doesn't really want to interupt business, but does 
  want her question answered.

Nox downs the next glass, taking again somewhat longer than his first few 
  shots. His teeth grit briefly, eyes flashing up in irritation as Sabrienna 
  remarks to him to take better care, but he still continues to chat with 
  Richard, "Glad yer' still wanna drink with me." His own grin broadens, 
  "...'n keep the girls happy." The empty glass is placed back on the bar 
  counter, with an expectant, wordless look for the keeper. Off the side, to 
  Sabrienna, he mutters, "Sure you wanna keep up payin'? Could be expensive 
  t'night, with and no much fun for you. I'll be careful nex' time."

The uniform of the Hound does not escape Richard's notice, but then, her 
  presence does not appear to cause him any concern. No one here but us 
  law-abiding citizens intent on putting our sheets to the wind, eh? "Why, 
  m'dear," he drawls to Tara, "are ye implyin' I cannae hold m' liquor?" By 
  way of demonstration, he holds his glass steady for the lass's inspection. 
  And he asides drolly to Nox, "I believe this lassie thinks I'm gonna be 
  drunk."

Tara grins. "Naw. Jus' not wantin' t' miss out." She glances back at the 
  Hound, the woman's presence registering. "Y'lookin' fer me, love?"

Expression not changing, Caioma gives a shake of her head, "Wondering if 
  Jenean's about?" Still standing straight, the dark haired woman tilts her 
  head just slightly as she asks the question.

Sabrienna mutters, "... how... drink... ye... down... I...  but if'n... ... 
  yer in... still we..." 

Caioma
     Strength and fire mark the fluid lines of Caioma's form. A tall woman, 
  she is slender but with a warrior's muscles evident in movements as well as 
  her long limbed body. Angular lines mark a serious face, setting off eyes 
  that seem as dark as the ocean's depths or alternately like the coals of a 
  still burning fire. Bronzed skin is set with a darker dappling along the 
  back of her hands and along her neck, and while there is webbing evident 
  among her long fingers, it has been cut between thumb and forefinger on both 
  hands. Dark hair that is oddly shaded black seems to have a mind of its own 
  despite being pulled back into a severe knot - ebony tendrils slip free 
  mercilessly, sometimes hiding the gills evident in her neck.
     Dressed in the uniform of a Hound, Caioma's legs are made to seem even 
  longer with the black leggings that disappear into the shined black of her 
  boots. Kept crisp as possible, her tunic with its purple edging is closed 
  tight beneath the leather curiass marked with the cerebus of the Hounds. 
  Though she's not an Empyrean, apparently she prefers the freedom of movement 
  leather provides over metal armor. A sword is sheathed on her back rather 
  than at her waist. The helmet typical to the Hound's uniform is with her as 
  well, but normally she carries it rather than wears it. For those that 
  understand such markings, the bars on her shoulder mark her as an 
  Esper-Reeve.

Tara runs her hand through her hair. "Uh." A frown, that creases her brow 
  prettily. "Upstairs. She went t'cool off an' change, I think."

Tybio shakes his head a bit and turns for the bar, making his way to the end 
  furthest from the stairs as he calls out to Raven for an ale.

Nox offers a deep, throaty chuckle to Richard, "Keep it up, and you will be!" 
  He takes another sip of his glass, then stops suddenly in shock, as he hears 
  Sabrienna's words. The whisky glass, nearly full, is hastily put back on the 
  wooden counter, as if the dark Empyrean just saw the devil in it. "Probably 
  wanna avoid that," he mutters in Sabrienna's direction. "But, 
  sure...splittin' sounds fine."

Sabrienna leans an elbow on the bar and looks at Nox, one brow going up as her 
  mouth turns upward in smirk. "Ye'll jus' 'owe' me." She teases with a broad 
  wink. Behind her Raven refills her mug with ale as he passes. Does the man 
  ever sleep?

Tybio settles onto a stoll and turns to the hound, after a long pull he asks, 
  "Lookin ta spend tha' coin ya like ta claim yer sort earn with 'er?"

Jenean. At the mention of her, Richard can't quite help a look up the stairs. 
  But then, his purpose of the moment doesn't involve recreational activity in 
  bed, even with the inimitable mistress of the Song. Nox's voice drags his 
  attention back, however, and once more he flashes that devilish crooked 
  grin. "Ach, ye havenae faith in me, either? Why, this is almost water." 
  This, of course, being the evil-looking stuff Raven's served him. It might 
  also be noted that Richard is taking his time drinking this alleged 'almost 
  water'. And although his speech and coordination seem unhampered, still, 
  there's come an ever so slight unfocusing to his twilight eyes, a slight 
  vagueness of gaze.

Tara looks between the Hound and Tybio, just shakes her head, and turns her 
  attention back to teasing Richard's shirt, draping one slim leg over his 
  lap, and showing a generous length of thigh doing it.

With a direct, sharp gaze, Caioma narrows her eyes on Tybio. Otherwise, her 
  expression stays the same. The young man gets a long, cold stare but 
  otherwise no response at all. When the Hound's gaze shifts back to Tara, she 
  tilts her chin slightly, "Let her know that Reeve Caioma was inquiring after 
  her." A nod is given, and then the tall woman turns to head back towards the 
  exit.

Nox lets out a mock sigh to Sabrienna, "Yah, know I'll owe you f'rever, lass. 
  Sowwy t'be tellin' you that I'll repay'n coin." Another glance is spared for 
  the glass of evil liquid, but the unsteady man has still enough self control 
  to not touch it. "'f you wanna have a drinkin' contest, Rich, forgedit! I 
  started earlier and'm done. Won't get any of the girls to carry me 
  upstairs." A crooked grin of amusement slides back on his lips, "Tho can 
  always bet on ya', boy." He raises his voice, so that the other people at 
  the bar can understand him better, even if he does slur badly. "On who will 
  drag off Richard upstairs first? Raven's liquor or Tara's art? Any bets?"

Sabrienna chuckles. "No' much of a bet, methinks it will be Tara."

Tybio grins as the Hound beats a hasty retreat, "Sure, we ain't no bleaden 
  hearlds though...be a cost ta give yer message Hound."

A giggle from the blonde Cyprian, though she does glance over at the Hound. 
  "I'll tell her fer ye. Fer nothin'."

Tybio shakes his head as he turns to the whore, "Well, ya do lots fer free. 
  Must not be any willin ta pay."

Tara smirks at him. "Not everyone's as cheap as ye, sweetheart."

Tybio leans back, "Yer implyin that I'd take it fer free from ya. Not worth me 
  time dear."

Shined booted feet stop in midstride. She heard that, Tybio. Slowly, Caioma 
  turns around and settles a cold gaze on the mongrel. Taking a few steps back 
  over, she simply regards him for a long moment and then states in her husky 
  voice, "I'll remember you." It doesn't sound like a good thing.

Tybio blinks and looks back ta the Hound, "Mighty underinformed if ya aint 
  allready heard of me Houndie"

Sabrienna rolls her eyes, "Ah, no, no' again from 'im..."

Nox gets a positively wicked expression from Richard as that bet is proposed, 
  though the man's attention has been coaxed away by that fetching expanse of 
  Tara's flesh bared to hm. A spark of something that may well be lust 
  glitters across his eyes for a moment, but that's _all_ the sign he gives 
  for the moment of how the young cyprian's affecting him. "I daresay it's 
  both of 'em I'll handle tonight," he tosses off airily to his winged 
  companion, whilst sipping at the vividly amber fluid in his glass. He 
  doesn't bother to look at Tybio, but the drawl in his voice as he addresses 
  Tara blandly suggests he's well aware of the youth's taunts, "Ye never did 
  strike me as th' sort who seeks out a boy to do a man's job, y'ken?"

Tara grins at Richard, and shifts till she's sat astride his lap. "S'why I'm 
  sittin' here, love." A smirk at Tybio. "I reckon he c'nkeep his hands full 
  amusin' himself..." Wickedly. "Mind ye, there's probably not much there 
  t'keep his hands occupied."

A single eyebrow arches up and there's a bit of a smirk on Caioma's face. 
  Tybio's face is committed to memory and then the boy is dismissed as 
  unworthy while she turns and once more heads towards the exit.

So at least somebody will remember something tonight. Nox isn't sure yet 
  wether or not he will. So maybe check back on who the one remembering is. 
  His eyes wander towards the Hound, looking blankly at her, trying to beat 
  her appearance into his drunk mind. Caioma was the mentioned name. Reeve 
  Caioma. The features should make her easy enough to recognize again.

Nox calls out in Richard's direction, "Don't let your girl run off. Or you'll 
  have nuttin' left but drink. Jus' like me." Besides all the obvious sarcasm, 
  taunting and challenging hint in his tone, there's a quiet, subtle edge of 
  hurt, hurt that reflects, for a brief moment, in his dark violet eyes.

Sabrienna frowns. Notinsomuch as she is insulted, which she is not, but that 
  Nox has some sort of forlorn love in his life. While one hand goes for her 
  drink, the other pats Nox's arms softly. "There, there luv. Thin's will look 
  better a morning or two for now, when ye wake up."

Caioma steps out of the Siren's Song and onto the docks outside.
Caioma has left.

Tybio chuckles softly, taking a sip from his ale.

Jenara steps into the tavern from the docks outside.
Jenara has arrived.

"Yer message'll get relayed, Reeve, dinnae fear," lilts Richard's tenor up 
  over Tara's delectable shoulders. He hasn't missed her request anymore than 
  he'd missed Tybio's taunt, though at least ostensibly his attention rests 
  upon the young woman who's insinuated herself into his lap. Leaning back 
  against the bar so as to give himself a bit of support as he holds her, he 
  chokes softly on a swallow of his drink at Tara's cutting jibe. "How patient 
  are ye, lass?" he purrs to her then, his voice dropping in volume, turning 
  to husky velvet. "I need t' be communin' for a time with this noble beverage 
  Raven's been good enough t' serve me" -- lofty words for something he's just 
  described as 'almost water'; hrmm! -- "and nae t' mention, I'd like t' keep 
  company with m' friend, here." His hand that holds his glass indicates Nox. 
  And for just a moment, Richard's blue gaze crosses Nox's violet one, in a 
  silent but keen acknowledgement. The darkling has his hurts, and the older 
  man, perhaps, has one or two of his own.

Tara draps arms round Richard's neck. "I c'n wait, hon."

Tybio comments dryly, "Waited this long...what's a little more ta snag yer 
  first."

Jenara smiles a she hefts her usual basket on her hip as she enters the Song 
  with another set of bread and pastries. She winks at some of the girless 
  patrons who know her face who also know she doesn't "work" here. mongrel 
  lass makes her way through the crowd and grins when she spies Richard. 
  Making her way over to him she ploops a small fresh loaf of bread infront of 
  him with a grin."there now..now ye can nae say I no ever did anything fer ye"

Nox's arm begins to tense up again under Sabrienna's touch, shaking nervously, 
  but this time, he doesn't draw back. As he looks back at her, a haunted look 
  enters his eyes, but is gone before it can be grasped. "Awww, sometimes it's 
  just great to have caring friends," he says in a deep rolling, unsteady 
  tongue. Richard's gaze is caught with a firm one of his own, before he 
  grasps his glass again in a determined gesture, lifting it high. "To company 
  with friends! To all of you!" he declares as a toast, then lets the whisky 
  sink back into his throat. With a quieter, rougher voice he adds, "And to 
  forgettin' sometimes, 'til the next morning. 'cause it's better than 
  drinkin' alone."

Richard begins to speak, perhaps to murmur some further flirtation to Tara, 
  perhaps to deliver another languorous insult to the cocky youth seated not 
  too far away -- but whatever he had in mind dies unspoken as Jenara enters 
  the Song and strides right up to him. At the redheaded Mongrel's approach, 
  color drains out of Richard's face. Recovery comes quickly, however. 
  Quickly, too, does his devilish grin return. "Grand timin', lass," he greets 
  the newcomer roughly. "A spot o' bread'll make the whiskey stretch farther." 
  And at Nox's toast, he carols, "Hear hear!" Down goes the rest of his 
  glass's contents, while he keeps an arm looped about Tara's trim little 
  waist.

Nox sinks back into himself, a bit unsteadily, stretching his wings out 
  partially. to lean against Sabrienna, trusting her enough to rely on her 
  support, while watching Jenara's entrance and Richard's reaction. "Uh-oh," 
  he mutters over to her, quietly enough so that it might easily be drowned in 
  the noise of the bar. "Looks like family business to me."

Sabrienna leans forward to indeed become a support to Nox. Her eyes travel to 
  Jenara and smirks. "Yea, so it does."

Not that Tara cares, being cosily sat astride Richard's lap, arms round his 
  neck. he smirks at Tybio. "Still make me one ahead of you, wouldn' it."

Jenara is unaware of all the comments her presence has engendered. She grins 
  at Richard.."well ye did say ye wanted bread" she says teasingly..moving 
  around the small group to hand her basket over to Raven. She smiles at 
  Sabrienna , Nox and the pretty Cyprian in Richard's lap with a merry "Heyla" 
  in greeting.

Tybio grins from his seat at the end of the bar, not dignifying Tara's absurd 
  comment with a responce.

Sabrienna responds to Jenara with a quiet, "hey."

If he heard Nox's murmur to Sabrienna, Richard gives no sign of it. Instead, 
  his gaze lingers warily upon Jenara for a few seconds, and to her he drawls 
  with a blandness that doesn't match his stare, "Thankee for the thought." 
  Only as the newcomer steps away does he shift position, thunking his empty 
  glass upon the counter. "Raven! Top me off again, man, will ye?"

Nox throws back a friendly audible, "Heyla, lady!" at Jenara, watching her 
  moves, while remaining leaned back against Sabrienna. One bare, dark elbow 
  props up on the oaken counter, to support the Empyrean as he whispers to the 
  woman behind him, "Know her?"

Tara senses "Richard, close to you as he is, can be felt to shudder 
  fractionally against you. Something about that Jenara, maybe."

Sabrienna whispers something to Nox.

Raven obliges with another shot of the dangerous spirits Richard and Nox seem 
  to be drinking, and Tara, with a smirk, beats the Mongrel to the glass, 
  taking another eye-watering sip and giggling before handing it to him.

If Jenara notes the odd look Richard gives her she makes no comment upon it 
  instead looking at Raven to ask "That be enough to cover t'morrow to or will 
  ye need me t' bake another batch?"

SunHawk steps into the tavern from the docks outside.
SunHawk has arrived.

Sabrienna rolls her eyes and wonders outloud, but softly so it only carries to 
  the four other patrons at the bar nearest to her, "All the damn puppies, 
  t'night. Wonder who their lookin' fer."

"'Ere now," murmurs Richard mock-sternly to Tara as she swipes his drink, 
  "that'd be mine then, lass. How'm I s'posed t' prove t' ye that I can hold 
  m' liquor if ye hold it for me, eh?"

Tara giggles, sat in Richard's lap, and gives him a kiss flavoured with the 
  strong spirit. "S'nice. Bit strong."

Nox mutters, "... any ..." 

He appears in the doorway in the most inobtrusive manner possible, his 
  demeanor quiet, his mood not the sort to draw attention. Further, his 
  attire, entirely indigo, meshes well with the shadows lingering near the 
  doorway. Were it not for the glimmer from his tidily trimmed pale hair and 
  his keen irises, SunHawk would well blend into the scenery.

Jenara chats idely with Raven for a moment before gathering up her basket and 
  her coin.

Nox has the near-blank look common at the stage of complete drunkness, fixated 
  on his empty glass. Not lifting his eyes, he addresses Raven, "Callin' it a 
  day, Raven. Wass' my share?"

SunHawk most assuredly fails to draw the attention of Richard. Although he as 
  of yet shows no blatant signs of inebriation, those two shots of aged 
  whiskey he's put down have kindled a small bonfire inside him. The warmth of 
  it is beginning to spread through his system, putting a faint but pleasant 
  haze between him and the world around him. That haze is rather helped along 
  as Tara molds herself against him and fuses her mouth to his; by the time 
  Richard comes up for air, he's looking ever so slightly dazed. "Strong," he 
  whispers then, sounding suspiciously entranced. "Like it that way, do ye?"

SunHawk is, of course, stone-cold sober. One would imagine a gentleman in the 
  guise of a Hound commander would be nothing but the picture of sobriety and 
  abstinence, and the upright carriage and noble cut of his uniform and 
  countenance are annoyingly immaculate. His business, at present, is only 
  looking around...and he has, one surmises, little intent to draw attention.

Sabrienna eases out from behind Nox and heads to the back of the bar to 
  relieve herself.

Tara licks her lips, arms draped round Richard's neck. "Mm." An impish smile. 
  "How 'bout you?"

Jenara starts to head back out but pauses at the sight of the Hound 
  commander..like any self respecting Mongrel she has a strong sense of 
  self-preseveration adn she sems to be doing a silent catalogue of her recent 
  activities to see if any of them could have drawn the attention of a Hound.

Handsomely maintained boots make quiet thudding sounds as SunHawk walks 
  patiently around the revellers toward the bar, his smile small below 
  watchful eyes. No words are necessary beyond those of greetings; he has no 
  threat about him.
Yet.

The current Hound in the bar, even if he did draw Richard's notice, would 
  cause him no more concern than the last Hound had done. Still no one here 
  but us law-abiding citzens, most definitely... or at any rate, law-abiding 
  citizens bent on getting drunk, getting bedded, or both. Jenara and her 
  bread by now have also slipped out of Richard's immediate ken, for Tara 
  grows more fascinating the longer she sits there in his lap with her sweet 
  young arms about his neck. "What d'ye say, dearlin'?" he murmurs, keeping 
  her close with one hand, sipping down his whiskey with the other. "Think 
  between ye and this brew, I c'n forget life for a night?"

Jenara hrmss softly..and tries to make herself as unseen as possible as she 
  tries to slip past the Hound.

SunHawk's glance focuses on Richard and the female perched on him - he was not 
  born yesterday, and he knows fully well the sort of place in which he 
  presently stands - though his expression changes not at all. Then he looks 
  toward Jenara, and one brow flickers upward. "Good evening," he murmurs in 
  her direction. "I trust you are staying out of trouble."

Jenara stops in her tracks and then turns a bright smile upon the Hound.."Me?? 
  Oh aye.. I nae ever be lookin' fer trouble mind ye, good commander..." and 
  she can't help it she /winks/ at you.."but it forever be findin' me!"

Nox draws in a languid gesture a few silver coins out of his tunic and places 
  them on the wood. "'ss should cover my share. Ask Sabi f'r t'rest," he 
  mutters in the direction of his last emptied glass. Richard gets an awkward, 
  clumsy looking gesture of farewell, before the dark Empyrean lifts himself 
  off his stool with much struggle. The Hound Commander catches for a moment 
  longer his attention, but not long enough to make it through to his drunken 
  brain. With a staggering, greatly curving pace and drooped wings, Nox makes 
  his way for the exit.

"Well, lass," intones the Commander, in a gentle basso juxtaposed with his 
  warrior guise, "when it finds you, come see me. We'll see if we can chase 
  the trouble away for once and all. Hrm?" During this brief speech he takes 
  note of Nox and his state, frowning a trifle.

Tara smiles at Richard. "Bethcha I can do better than th' whisky."

Jenara laughs merrily and nods.."oh aye Commander..ye be the very first person 
  I be seekin' out when troulbe comes a callin!" she catches Nox's staggered 
  walk to the door and as she's about to leave herself she offers.."can I be 
  helpin' ye??"

Over Tara's shoulder, Richard blinks blue eyes turned languid, almost dreamy, 
  at Nox. "Vale, m'friend," he murmurs, before the cyprian captures his 
  attention again. To Tara, he grins... just a trifle blurrily. "I cannae have 
  both? Seems t' me a man ought t' have his cake and eat it too..."

Nox declares firmly to Jenara, "'m doin' fine." Yet his swaying movements seem 
  to betray any falsehood in his words. Despite it all, he manages to makes 
  his way out by grazing only one table. If Richard's wishes are still heard, 
  they evoke no reply.

"Perhaps I should escort you back to your rooms, sir," SunHawk suggests while 
  taking longer strides than earlier witnessed to catch up with Nox. "Come on, 
  now...shall we?"

Tara giggles. "I guess we could do both."

SunHawk steps out of the Siren's Song and onto the docks outside.
SunHawk has left.

Nox steps out of the Siren's Song and onto the docks outside.
Nox has left.

Jenara shakes her head at the drunk Nox and follows him and the HOund 
  out..although you can be sure she's gonna leave that solider's company real 
  soon.
Jenara steps out of the Siren's Song and onto the docks outside.
Jenara has left.

Those who make their departures seem barely noticed by Richard, now. With a 
  deliberately reckless abandon he swiftly drinks down the rest of his third 
  shot of whiskey; aye, this man is apparently hells-bent upon putting 
  _something_ out of his mind. Once he empties the glass he returns it to the 
  bar, wraps his free hand around Tara, and murmurs silkily, "Ye drive quite a 
  bargain, m'dear..."

Tara mms. "Wanna drive th' rest of it upstairs, mm?" She sniffs at the dregs 
  of the glass, oiuts.

"Consider me persuaded." Odd. Some men, with three shots of whiskey in them, 
  would be slurring their speech by now. Richard's accents, on the other hand, 
  appear to actually be growing crisper. He begins to shift the girl in his 
  lap, perhaps intending to sweep her up into his arms... but as he rises, for 
  just a moment, the warmth of the whiskey in his blood shoots up to his head 
  and blurs his vision, turning the edges of his world gray. Richard doesn't 
  stagger, but he does pause a moment, his gaze going absent and his eyes 
  blinking slowly shut and then open again. "Mmmm..."

Tara slides gracefully to her feet, and nods at Raven to refill another glass, 
  which she takes. "C'mon."
Tara climbs upstairs.
Tara has left.

[And in minutes...]

You push open the heavy door and enter Room III.
Room III - The Siren's Song - Haven(#861RADJ)
     This room must be the largest on the floor, and--unusually--it contains a 
  window that isn't shuttered or boarded over. The walls are covered with a 
  blue-on-deep-blue brocade fabric, to block out the drafts as much as to hide 
  the rough boards underneath. The bed is little more than a large pallet on 
  the floor, but it is covered with layers of richly colored throws and 
  pillows and looks quite comfortable. There is a small table and two chairs 
  in one corner, a large wardrobe opposite the bed, and a washstand containing 
  a basin and a pitcher of water (brought up from the well in the courtyard) 
  next to a small trunk beneath the window. The light from a lamp hanging in 
  one corner has been muted somewhat with a red silk scarf, casting its warm 
  tone all over the room.
Contents: 
Tara
Obvious Exits:
Hallway <O> 

Tara pulls the door shut behind you, setting the glass down and draping arms 
  round the man's neck.

Down in the common room Richard had shaken off his momentary dizziness readily 
  enough, and he'd kept to his feet sufficiently to follow the fair-haired 
  cyprian up the stairs. But his movements have been a trifle slow, and now, 
  with a lazier than normal edition of his lopsided grin curling his mouth, 
  with the closed door allowing privacy, he pulls Tara up against him and 
  seeks out her lips in an ardent kiss. The whiskey is strong upon his breath, 
  but it hasn't seemed to dull his knack for this kind of thing -- indeed, 
  Richard knows _exactly_ what to do with that elegantly cut mouth of his. 
  "Help me forget, eh, amora?" he rasps out pleadingly, as the warmth of the 
  whiskey meets and merges with heat rising up in response to her attentions.

Tara's arms and mouth are warm. Softly, "S'my job, love." Blonde hair brushes 
  his cheek, body pressed close against his. "I guess yer goin' t'be my last 
  one t'night, mm?"

"Please," comes the almost plaintive response, "don't... don't ask me to think 
  past this moment, am--" This time, though, Richard catches himself on the 
  endearment, his voice growing huskier as he amends, "--lass. I don't... want 
  to think." The casual mask he'd worn down at the bar is beginning to slip, 
  his expression a melding of desire and some sort of inner turmoil. Rather 
  than softening it, if anything, the whiskey he's put down is exacerbating 
  that look of his. With an edgy kind of passion he seeks out his current 
  companion's lips again, wanting consciousness of nothing but her mouth 
  meeting his.

If that's what he wants... Tara's good at her job, and, much more, understands 
  what her job really is. No further talk.

[To be continued...]