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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Oct 9, 2016 5:11:21 GMT
(Random rp idea I felt like writing; drunk person and AU, haha. Poor Ciaran’s almost always my guinea pig for this stuff…
While I’m playing a character who’s in what has become a private rp between me and Kelathi, EVERYBODY is welcome! It’s a modern fantasy setting, but since it’s an AU, multiple characters from various eras and whatnot can mingle, and having an existing shared history is totally ok (provided it’s explained to individuals involved how to avoid confusion, haha) Essentially, this is a modern version for existing characters )
It was already after midnight, outside lit only by dim streetlamps that flickered weakly. This was the dingy part of town, old and dirty, quiet compared to the bustle of life that distantly echoed from the downtown area. But that was part of the allure of the Orchard, it catered to a very specific set of clients: those that don’t ask, and those that won’t tell.
Music played faintly from the ancient speakers in the bar, some nineties pop that almost seemed out of place in its energy. Even the few hushed conversations at some of the tables were enough to blur the words, creating a breathless din that could be silenced in a heartbeat. The entrance of anyone new would cause such a response, as an open door was always considered a threat. Patrons here knew the value of being ever on their guard.
That was partly why he had gotten to the point he had, needing a moment to even realize the barkeep had asked if he wanted any help. Lifting his eyes showed that yes, he had gotten quite drunk, the man looking blurry and slightly at the wrong angle. Instead of accepting the offer of help, he pushed his empty mug to the man with an order for a refill. The man looked uncomfortable giving the man another, but he obliged the gaze that still managed to be dark. A bill was slid across the counter as the glass was returned, taken with a sigh before the man went back to wiping down the counter. He was one of the ones who benefited from such formidable patrons, a joint owner of the bar. He had long since learned the hazards of angering his select clientele, even if they were drunk.
The move to lift the glass to his lips was natural, well rehearsed in this night alone. By now his senses were dull, his reactions slow. Only the next drink of beer was a fluid motion. As he set the glass on the counter again, his eyes were again drawn to the device next to his hand, its blue light slowly flashing. Why he didn’t turn it off and stick it in a pocket was beyond him, knowing very well who was on the other end. Of course, if he turned it off, his partner would know something was wrong. Ciaran was never one to talk very much, so being quiet wasn’t so unusual. But he had already tried this a few weeks ago; get drunk, wait for someone to come finish the job… only to cave and call for help. If it wasn’t for being so well trained at survival, he wouldn't have to go to such extreme lengths to make himself feel numb when this sort of mood struck him.
It wasn’t like he was used to company… indeed, despite his best intentions, Cathal simply seemed to be a constant reminder that Ciaran was alone, with only a voice to keep him company. It was logical, given that Cathal’s skills and appearance… unsettled the everyday civilian. Ciaran at least could pretend to be just another traveler on the street. But it was becoming more and more obvious that he was a lone traveler.
Even so, the earpiece was looking more and more friendly the more it went out of focus. If someone was to attack him now… well, who knew. Perhaps Cathal had gone to find him anyway, and would come bursting in before making a mess out of anyone going after Ciaran. Then the lecture would follow as Ciaran would be carried out and taken to a safe place to sober up. Quite a strange pair of mercenaries, to be sure.
Not yet… Ciaran decided silently, taking another gulp instead of picking up the earpiece. He’d call… later. If Cathal didn’t call first…
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Post by Kelathi on Oct 17, 2016 15:44:16 GMT
((Of course, I have to join with Rhea Ciaran, get ready for Ms Trouble xP ))
It seemed to Rhea that the evening air tasted different in this part of the city. It was… thicker, somehow, and almost acidic, as if the pollution had filtered down from the rest of the city just to congregate here. She could not deny that the place had… character. The darkness did not trickle in so much as slink languidly around corners, like a great black cat stalking the streets for a nighttime treat. She let the evening absorb her in its shadow, protecting her from the harsh glare of a nearby flickering street light. In her left hand, she rolled the diamond between her gloved fingers and her thumb absent-mindedly, as if it were no more than a pebble plucked from the street. Shrouded by night as she was, the occasional glints of its polished sides were the only indication of her presence in the gloom.
She would take her time with this contract.
The pay was good, but her current employee was impatient. Evidently one born with a silver spoon in his mouth, his obnoxious attitude and displeasing habit of clicking his fingers to garner the attention of others had both served to steadily grind on her nerves, and his less than respectful attitude towards her had only cemented her negative opinion of him. The payback for that was to make him sweat a bit. For he knew, out there, somewhere in the city, she had his diamonds… and there was no telling when she might choose to return with them. So calmly she let him stew whilst she casually roamed the streets, occupying herself with errands of little importance in the meantime in her attempt to stretch out the time.
There was no question that she was the best for the job in question, if you wanted it done cleanly and with no loose ends. There were a million ways to trip up a thief, hidden cameras, tripwires linked to alarms, or even just the addition of a lit showroom and a large window, to ensure a lack of the privacy usually required for such secret, illegal errands. And Rhea knew how best to tackle them all, and more. Her skill had quickly become legendary, thanks to a few tricks unique to her own use… and she had operated for many years alone, merely for her own pleasure, before she had finally roused the attentions of the wrong people; individuals whom very quickly became the ‘right’ people as gold crossed her palm. They had sat her down and had a ‘chat’ with her, and she had graciously agreed to work for them, the main reward being that her co-operation meant that she was able to keep her head and subsequently, all of her fingers. For her employer was no less than he whom was notoriously known as The Manager, and one did not say no to him and expect to leave the room in the same state way you had entered it. But it wasn’t all bad, the pay was good and whilst he was certainly a force to be reckoned with, he was also fair. It’s just that ‘fairness’ was a term he manipulated freely depending on whom he was dealing with...
She worked beneath the Manager as a freelance ‘salvager’ of goods- as he liked to refer to it, anyway. The word ‘thief’ seemed to so sully the taste of his mouth. She almost chuckled at the thought as she slipped the diamond back into the hidden pocket of her jacket. She had no disillusions about what she was, and would offer no apologies for this fact. Regardless of what people wished to call it, the fact was she enjoyed what she did, and she was good at it. As well as the money, the Manager paid her with something no one else could offer, and which had done a fine job of sweetening the deal- protection. He had many friends in many places, and it did not hurt to find yourself on the right side of them when you find yourself in a sticky situation.
After a moment’s thought, she pushed away from the shadows and continued on her way, strolling through the streets as if she owned them. She wasn’t sure what exactly had brought her to this part of the city. Perhaps a sense of morbid curiosity? It wasn’t that she had never stepped foot in the area, it’s just that the very nature of her work called for her presence in much more affluent neighbourhoods. As far as she was aware, the Manager resided in a skyscraper in the heart of the downtown area, (for on those rare occasions when he called to meet her in person, rather than sending others, this is where they had met.) As for where she lived, she tended to reside in more of a… middle ground, where the average-earning civilians tended to reside. And for want of a better word, it was boring. So maybe that’s why she had come to find herself here after all.
Utter boredom, a dash of curiosity, and a heavy dose of morbid fascination.
Upon observation, the bar had all the feel of a traditional pub in such an area, where typically only locals reside, and everyone else is met with (mostly) silent scorn. And, she would have continued to be the target of such, had she not immediately recognised one of the patrons lounging in the doorway. “Ms Vidal!” He announced cheerily, his eyes lighting with recognition and his face splitting with a toothy grin, raising the beer in his hand in greeting. She had to resist the urge to wince at the use of the surname. She knew she had to face her demons if she were to move on, but it still never failed to catch her off guard. Despite the acrid name tainting her ears, she smiled in response, and replied, - “Ryder! I haven’t seen you in a while, still causing trouble are you?” Ryder’s companions looked towards him quizzically- only moments before they had been glaring at her darkly, now they did not seem to know what to do or where to look. The man just grinned, ignoring them as he answered, “You know it. Are you here just for the sights, or would the ‘lady’ care for a drink too?”
And that was how, a few moments later, she had come to be within the bar.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Nov 2, 2016 22:05:49 GMT
(Ciaran: … can’t a man have a drink in peace? *facepalm*)
Vidal?
Ciaran’s gaze managed to straighten out a little as he head the familiar voice answer the call, glancing to the side to see who had just entered. The lady was a hard one to not recognize, but his reaction was rather the opposite of the other man’s.
With an inward groan, he subtly lifted a hand to obscure his face from the side the group came from, realizing with a start – ending in relief – that he was indeed wearing the old leather jacket that was so atypical of his style, worn brown rather than long and black. It covered up not only the scars on his arms, but the distinctive tattoo on his forearm. Rhea’s presence was quite a sobering effect on him, particularly since he could easily remember what happened the last time he had gotten at all drunk around her…
Staring at the beer that was now mocking him, only down a mouthful and now on the verge of being abandoned. These moods required being alone. Rhea was not the type to agree to leaving him alone, almost as bad as Cathal. Her reasons would vary quite a bit from the other’s, but she was still stubborn. The last thing he wanted right now was to deal with her. As much as he had sobered up at realizing she was there and within inches of discovering he was there too, he was still noticeably drunk, and it was always harder dealing with people he cared about when he was drunk.
But leaving the bar as soon as they came up to it would look even more suspicious. Ciaran took another calculated drink of his beer, hoping he could finish it and then logically be able to leave without calling any attention to the action. If only Rhea would be distracted by the others she was already with long enough…
(again a little shout out, everyone can join )
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Post by Kelathi on Dec 28, 2016 1:07:48 GMT
((Does Rhea still have her powers or is this realistic?))
She had not noticed him just yet, which was probably a good thing for them both, considering the way in which they had parted ways the last time they had seen each other. If asked, she would have claimed she was no longer bitter about the whole situation, but she would be lying through her teeth… She had been messed up for a long time after he had taken it into his head to leave, even more-so than she had been before… which is saying a lot. It had taken a long time for her to get back to this point, where she was actually socialising, and not just playing the lone wolf like she was used to. She had decided she needed a change, she needed… people, socialisation. She needed to do something other than sit around all day thinking of him.
She refused to think about her part in all of that. She ignored the fact that it had been she who had driven him away completely, instead choosing to pin the blame on him until he became less of a person in her mind, reduced to just another man, in the long line of men whom had hurt her. Despite the fact that he was…different than all of those people. He had had no intention of hurting her so severely, this she knew in her gut, no matter how good she was at ignoring the truth. He had hurt her because he had left, but he had left because he had been trying to protect her...
“If I leave this bar stone-cold sober, I will name you solely responsible.” She replied to the offer of a drink, to which the man had laughed. “That’s the spirit!” She rolled her eyes at his joke, and they made their way past the tables. She was feeling rather buoyant, perhaps from the successful evening, or the prospect of a drink… but either way, she was in a good mood. Perhaps that might be what saves Ciaran, when she finally notices him, which surely wouldn’t be long now, as she joined her companion at the bar…
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Dec 28, 2016 16:14:42 GMT
(I would hope so! haha)
Rhea might have been easier on Ciaran when she finally realized he was there, except for the fact that he wasn’t alone for much longer either.
The last time he had gotten drunk around Rhea, it had been a very… interesting night. She didn’t seem to mind so much, either. Even so, Ciaran was still under the assumption that Rhea would be better without him. Sure, he had said it before, been talked out of leaving so many times… so this last time, he left. Better for her, he had figured. Cathal was harder to avoid simply because he was Ciaran’s partner, even though the feeling was the same. The White Tiger was impressive in what he did, but that fact came to be as great an annoyance as much as it was helpful when those skills were used against the Black Wolf.
Like now. Ciaran had tried to drink himself into oblivion, but Cathal had tracked him down. But instead of going himself, Cathal had sent someone else, who entered the bar with barely a glance cast around until her eyes landed on their target. Her unusually pale coloring got a few unusual glances, but they were utterly ignored. Large gold hoops hung visibly down beneath the white-blond bob, pastel colors in her dress complimenting rather than contrasting her complexion. These earrings swayed as she strode with purpose to the counter, picking the side at least that had no one else on it.
Not that it helped that much.
Ciaran’s attention had been on avoiding being recognized by Rhea, so seeing the familiar face suddenly pop up in front of his earned a start. “What- Nayda, what are you doing here?” he half hissed, sober enough to keep his voice down. The cool golden eyes narrowed at him in plain annoyance. “I’m here because Cathal is worried. You haven’t even tried making contact with him! That earpiece isn’t for decoration!” she bit back, but was respectful of his own volume to keep hers similarly quiet. A glance at the people he was still trying to shield his face from, and her expression softened with understanding. A little, anyway. “Of all people, you should know this isn’t a safe way to deal with your feelings.”
“Oh yeah? How’s a banshee supposed to know how to deal with feelings in the first place?”
A sulk answered him at first, hands rising to her fully covered arms; “I only avoid skin contact. You try to avoid any contact at all,” she replied evenly, quite satisfied with the dark look he shot at her in response.
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Post by Kelathi on Jan 2, 2017 22:26:32 GMT
“Whaddya want, buttercup?” The phrase merely earnt a dark, sideways glance, causing the man to grin, raising his hands in defense and in mock apology. “Sorry, old habits die hard. What’ll it be?” Rhea turned from him, speaking directly to the bartender, handing over a note as she ordered. “A beer, please.” Her companion laughed, stuffing the note meant for her back in his pocket, and giving the rest to the bartender as he ordered his own drink. “Stubborn as ever, I see. So what brings you back to our neck of the woods? I’m liking the new locks, by the way.” He noted, nodding towards her, referring to her haircut. What had once been long, wavy locks of dark hair had been chopped to her chin. It had been a decision she had made on the spot one day, in an effort to reclaim some spontaneity into her life.
Rhea took a swig before she answered, turning towards him as she leant her side casually against the bar, and ironically, unbeknownst to her at the moment, away from the direction of Ciaran, her back facing him. “Oh, you know me. Grand mansions and flashy cars bore me easily. It was only a matter of time before I found myself gravitating back here.” She answered sarcastically, with a tweak at the corner of her rouged lips, a hint of a smile playing on her features. Ryder simply laughed. “You are, after all, a woman of simple tastes, Rhea.” He countered, to which she quickly quipped- “Maybe, but those tastes are still much too expensive for the likes of you.” At which point, she downed her beer, as if to illustrate her point.
As they spoke, catching up on recent events, quipping back and forth with sarcastic comments and banter… she ordered another drink, then turned and leant with her back up against the bar, elbows resting on the wood. As he spoke, she discreetly let her gaze wander over the room, feeling at ease in the company she held, which was a rarity nowadays.
And a feeling that was not to last for long.
She found herself doing a double take when she spotted him, but then she had abruptly turned her head away, forcing herself to look back at her companion, pretending to listen earnestly to what he was saying. But in truth… her thoughts were running a mile a minute.
Ciaran? What on Earth was he doing here?
Her heart was thundering in her chest, a response that irritated her, as she tried to force herself to calm down. She couldn’t decide what the feeling was that had overtaken her, not immediately. It was a combination of feelings fueled by memories, positive and negative… But, mostly… anger. Yes, she was pissed off that he was here! Although, when she thought about it, it probably shouldn’t have surprised her. She remembered him being partial to a drink, especially when something was bothering him. But here? She hadn’t even known they were in the same city!
She considered cutting her losses and running. He probably hadn’t even seen her yet. But… why should she leave? She was hardened by the thought. Yes, why should she leave? He should be the one that felt awkward, he had been the one that had chosen to go, after all. He had broken her heart. Suddenly, she found herself hoping that he did see her. So that he could see that she was still here, that she had survived this far without him, and she was doing quite well, thank you!
She found herself glancing over again, but she averted her gaze before the woman besides him caught it.
Wait… who… was that?
So… he had moved on from brunettes, then, she thought bitterly. Funny, she had always suspected he would go for that wild one… what was her name? Ah, yes, Datura. That woman had really ruffled Rhea’s feathers... But this girl? She was so… fragile looking. And what was with… She mentally shook herself before her thoughts picked apart every aspect of the stranger. There was no need to take it out on the girl, she was probably a lovely person, and this wasn’t about her, not truly. Rhea didn’t want to misdirect her anger, it was him she was angry at, not some poor girl he was stringing along now...
And then the desire hit her suddenly. The desire not to just leave and be done with it… but the desire to… stir things. Well, why not? She wanted to see how he would react. Let it be awkward, she was ready for it. She had nothing to be awkward for, she decided, however accurate that thought actually was...
So, she downed her next drink rather quickly, politely excused herself to a now confused-looking Ryder, whom had noticed her lack of attention, and slipped by the people crowding at the bar, making her way directly and confidently towards Ciaran, whose back was to her. The ‘girl’, as Rhea had taken to referring to her, despite the fact that she was in fact a woman, was the first to spot her. Rhea merely offered her a smile, as if to reassure her that this would be a friendly interaction, and placed a gentle hand on Ciaran’s shoulder, the movement supple, like a feline… “Hello, Ciaran.”
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Post by Kelathi on Mar 10, 2017 19:43:26 GMT
((Do you want me to edit? ))
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Mar 10, 2017 19:49:43 GMT
(No, no... I THINK I have a response but I wanna make sure before writing it haha... life has been distracting me)
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Post by Kelathi on Mar 10, 2017 20:18:29 GMT
((Ah I see, no worries! haha I'm the best person to understand that, don't worry xP))
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Mar 10, 2017 20:24:48 GMT
(lol... I'll try to reply later, I have to leave to do some errands in a bit here - so excited to read the responses though *squeal*)
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Post by Kelathi on Mar 10, 2017 20:30:49 GMT
No worries! I'm quite pleased with myself, have been battling with block and thought i'd only be able to reply to 1 and i'm doing quite well haha
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Mar 11, 2017 4:14:41 GMT
(bwahaha, Nadya has no patience for Ciaran's bs about relationships... even if she's still working out her own XD)
Nadya noticed that they were being approached too late to give Ciaran any warning, having been in the middle of a whispered lecture about his always playing the lone wolf for his multitude of reasons, which she was busy dissecting individually. When she finally saw the woman, her eyes began to widen… and then the woman had her hand on Ciaran’s shoulder.
So rigidly trying to keep his face from where Rhea might see, Ciaran’s response was… unusual, particularly for someone as used to fighting as he was. The touch made him twitch, stiffening like he was ready for an attack despite the gentle move. At hearing his name, so calmly spoken by one who was dangerous to know when she sounded so calm… his eyes closed for a moment before he finally turned to look at her, having managed to steel his expression and steady his voice. “Rhea,” he replied in kind, straightening up.
“Oh! You’re Rhea.”
Ciaran’s gaze darted over to Nadya at her almost surprised tone, having momentarily forgotten she was even there. Maybe he wasn’t as sober as he thought he had gotten from the start at seeing Rhea there…
“My name’s Nadya, I work with Cathal in the mainframe,” she went on to say matter-of-factly, nearly making Ciaran grimace at her calm reaction to the situation, going so far as to even offer a gloved hand to shake. Ciaran leaned back a little to get out of their way, trying to bring himself out of the conversation if at all possible. Not that he really thought he could escape now that Rhea had noticed and approached him… Even so, Nadya’s light tone was irritating; she knew how awkward it would be after what happened. And she knew because Cathal wouldn’t let the matter drop until Ciaran explained his even darker mood of late…
Given the dark looks Nadya had been giving him, Ciaran figured that she would happily make things more difficult for him, as she claimed he had for her…
(saving what I had last time for next post )
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Post by Kelathi on Jan 9, 2019 13:39:29 GMT
If they were together, the woman made a great show of appearing gracious in this potentially awkward situation. The only one Rhea’s presence seemed to have caused discomfort so far was Ciaran, which she ticked off in her head as one victory so far. Not bad, two seconds into the interaction. At least the woman had heard of her- that had certainly stroked Rhea’s pride. She smiled at the mention of Cathal, she’d been so wrapped up in her perceived hate of Ciaran she’d pushed thought of all else to the back of her mind. Now he had resurfaced to the front, and she felt a familiar pang of loss and regret for how things had turned out, before she mentally shook herself out of it. She understood why she no longer had contact with Cathal, he was fiercely loyal to Ciaran, and she would expect nothing less. She did find herself wondering in that moment, though, if he missed her as much as she missed him. The loss of his fatherly presence had been a double blow in all of this.
“Nadya, that’s an interesting name. Are you from around here?” Her question was genuine and also based on the accent she could hear in the woman’s voice. As she took her hand, Rhea noted that despite her fragile form, the handshake was firm. She reminded herself she was supposed to dislike the girl, but it was difficult when she had not really done anything directly Rhea, even if she was with Ciaran. The person she wanted to concentrate all that negativity on was the man himself, and it was satisfying to let him sweat by the side-lines for the moment whilst the two women chatted civilly.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jan 9, 2019 17:37:06 GMT
Going out drinking tonight was proving to be a really, really, really stupid idea. As Rhea warmly greeted Nadya, Ciaran could tell things on the edge of his vision were getting fuzzy again, the shot of adrenaline wearing off. And with Rhea, it was always problematic to not be on his best form.
“Mm, no, I’m transplant,” Nadya replied, clearly using someone else’s term for her moving there. “But I am actually very glad you are here!” Ciaran visibly cringed a little at this, already beginning to turn a little to go back to his drink, having a guess at what might be said next. His guess was wrong. With a look of pure annoyance, bred out of concern, Nadya glanced at him before focusing her attention back on Rhea, the smile quickly growing strained the more she spoke. Despite her words, so boldly stated, her voice was kept low, not wanting anyone else to hear and get any ideas.
“See, ever since his split with you, Ciaran’s been making himself a target by going to seedy little places like this and getting flat drunk and waiting for who knows what to happen. So Cathal and I have to keep tracking him down and dragging him to safety, but he’s too stubborn to admit what is very obviously the problem. So, if you wouldn’t mind helping me out, can you please convince him to stop trying to get himself killed?”
The “smile” stayed hard as she looked back to the source of her own agitation, while Ciaran stared up at her in shock, not so much for what she said but in the fact that she actually said it. Nadya seemed to recover a little, evidently confident that Rhea wouldn’t let anything else happen, smiling at her more genuinely this time. “Nice to meet you,” she said again, pulling back as if ready to march out again, not even having to try to avoid Ciaran’s attempt to stop her. His footing slipped a little, and he found he had to catch himself on the counter a moment after trying to stand, revealing just how true Nadya’s words had been.
Pushing himself back onto his seat, with not too little effort to keep his balance, he kept his eyes from moving to Rhea, even if that meant somewhat staring in Nadya’s direction. She had paused when he slipped, clearly concerned but unable to do anything if he did fall. So instead, she sent an icy glare at any curious glances in their direction, managing to turn away most of them as if she was able to defend them. But in spite of her staying, she clearly knew what the problem was, and that she had very little control over it. Ciaran didn’t do well with a broken heart either…
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Post by Kelathi on Jan 9, 2019 21:42:09 GMT
For a moment, Rhea merely blinked in response, a little taken aback by the onslaught this woman set forth with her explanation. She had to admire her boldness, it’s not often in this world you come across someone who cuts through all the bullshit and just states what’s what.
Well, that was it.
She liked the woman.
Damn.
Well, so far, this hadn’t gone to plan… as the woman continued, however, she suddenly became aware that her initial assumption couldn’t be correct. If it was, why was Nadya asking her to help Ciaran? What made her think he would listen to her, after all that had happened? He hadn’t been very good at listening to her before everything went to hell! Then Ciaran had done something that had only confirmed Nadya’s words, clearly unsteady on his feet and practically asking to be mugged. She understood Nadya’s wariness in this place, Ciaran painted a rather obvious target on his back.
Rhea sighed then, mind made up. Sure, she was angry with him, but she didn’t want him beaten up… not by anyone other than herself, anyway, she thought bitterly. She turned to Nadya. “Just give me a minute.” Then before waiting for an answer, she turned on her heel and walked away. But she didn’t go far, stopping before her friend, who was looking at her curiously. “Thought we’d lost you to your new friends?” He commented, acting offended for a moment, before a crooked grin crossed his face. Rhea just smiled in response. “Sorry, I had some… things to clear up. Listen, will you do me a favour?”
Rhea returned to the bar shortly to make introductions. “This is Ryder, he will help us get him out of here.” ‘Him’ clearly being Ciaran, whom she had yet to actually exchange words with. Ryder, upon seeing Nadya, appeared to be taken aback for a moment. But when he smiled, it wasn’t a leer, in fact he was clearly trying his best to look respectable and approachable, and he tipped his head in greeting. “How do’you do, missus.” Rhea almost snorted in laughter, she’d never heard him speak like that before, but for his sake she decided not to blow his cover by commenting so. “He’s trustworthy.” Rhea added, aware that her companion probably didn’t appear so. Ryder shrugged in response; clearly aware he did not look the honest type. She didn’t actually intend for Ryder to physically help Ciaran out, more to make sure their little entourage weren’t bothered by any passers-by deciding to try their luck whilst the two women struggled with their drunken burden.
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