A Rogish Interlude (Charlotte/Rogus)

[Charlotte]

The village of Krossen was barely worth mentioning in passing conversation to most of the Bern natives, not worth having an marking on a map of the country. But for the Bernese rebel caravan that was nearly to its destination just north of Lucerne, it was a safe haven of rebel sympathizers who were more than happy to hide the carts of siege parts in their sizeable winter storehouse while the group rested for the day. Many had been afforded what spare space the villagers could give to the travelers, with some even finding rest in a bed while the townspeople went about their days.

Well, most of the group was taking the time to rest, at least. Charlotte hadn’t been able to sleep since their first stop, and even then she’d only been able to catch a few hours of sleep. Even with as little sleep as she was running on, Charlotte was wide awake after her meeting with a potential client. The job she’d been offered was an interesting one, especially considering it came from an Illian operative. While she wanted to take it, Charlotte knew better than to immediately accept a proposal. Playing hard to get always resulted in a better reputation for her, not to mention a bit of a bump in what she’d earn from the work. She made people think her services were a hot commodity because, well, they were.

So knowing she’d be unable to get any sleep before they left in a few hours, Charlotte found herself headed to the only thing interesting left in the town – a small tavern called the Dark Lion Grogshop. Sure, it was still the late afternoon, but she didn’t see any harm in having a pint or two before they left for their final destination. Normally she’d wait until after the job was done to partake in a few drinks, but it seemed that the worst of their trip had already passed.

Pushing the door to the tavern open slowly, Charlotte was surprised to see a few other patrons huddled around tables in the homey place, which was when Charlotte realized the tavern would likely fill up with the men getting off work soon. Not the best time for the stand-out woman to be sitting in the middle of a tavern, but at this point she didn’t much mind. Finding a table near the back of the small establishment, Charlotte slid down onto the bench, ordering herself a pint of ale while she looked over the buzzing patrons, many of whom were looking her way. The blonde simply shot smiles the way of many of the men who met her gaze, humming along to a song a few were making their way through at a table near hers.

But of all the men who were there, Charlotte was surprised to see that the one person she expected to encounter was nowhere to be seen. Sipping on her freshly delivered pint - which reminded her, when had been the last time she had even had a drink? - she found her eyes drifting to the door as she wondered where her traveling partner might be. He had made it sound like he’d be here waiting for her when she was done with her meeting. So where had Rogus gone?

[Rogus]

Rogus had been busy. Technically, the man was a guard hired to protect the shipment of refugees and supplies, but in practice Rogus served as a scout for the caravan;  alerting them of any unforseen obstacles that may happen to be in the way before the caravan actually reached them. He'd watched out for bandit ambushes, Ilian patrols, even roads that had become impassable due to a mudslide or rock fall. Even at the first stop, and now at Krossen Rogus had wandered along the village limits like a castle sentry walked the walls. While this normally only served to make Rogus more bored, it had helped the caravan avoid a few run ins with the occassional Ilian, or bandit group.  When he was happy that there wouldn't be any Ilian forces coming to the village (which was known only locally for the villagers' rebel sympathies) Rogus went back to town. He'd been surveying all morning, and caught a quick breakfast of hard biscuits before looking to  see if Myscha was still awake.

He knew this was the village she was supposed to meet her newest client, and the thief secretly held a suspicion about her wish to go it alone. They were supposed to be partners, furthermore Rogus still felt some uneasiness toward Myscha's interests outside the guild. Everything they did was supposed to help the guild as a whole. Any loyalties prior to the guild's formation were intended to be over-ridden by the thieves' loyalty to the guild, but Myscha was a merchant. Rogus knew merchants had the tendency to be even greedier than thieves; the blonde was both. She'd made it clear she didn't intend to forsake her contacts which was fine with Rogus, he didn't intend to drop his either, but the fact she had a new client and that she didn't want him coming along had him suspicious.

After his meeting with Myscha in Santaruz he'd left most of his distrust for her behind, and even began to see her as a friendly rival after the night the contract was signed, but Myscha was still Myscha, and Rogus was still Rogus. He simply didn't know enough to fully trust her yet, and her 'meeting' hadn't helped to sway his stance. The red garbed thief never mentioned this his partner, and never made any indication of his suspicions about the meeting. When he saw her sneaking off Rogus decided to remove his cloak and follow her. He followed at a distance, and used clumps of vilagers and alleyways to avoid her line of sight when he had to, and with his cloak gone there was nothing to standout on his person even if she did see him. He was too far from her to be recognized, and with brown hair and stark clothing he looked like just another villager. There was still an obstacle in his way; a little thing called respect. While he still did not fully trust the blonde, she was Rogus's partner and it would be hypocracy on his part to eavesdrop on her meeting.

He tried to work through the issue but figured that it wouldn't be worth losing her trust by going further and actually listening in. Although he continued to tail her, he only followed her until she seemed to make it to her destination. He waited. If the meeting somehow went sour or was a set up Rogus would be there to rectify the problem, if anything. But nothing happened and the woman headed off, seeming content, toward the tavern.

The tavern? Oh crap. Rogus waited until she was out of sight before he made his way to the tavern as well. He'd said he would be waiting for her after her meeting, what would he say held him up? Resting? No, she'd know he was too curious about new places to believe that. He'd have to think of something else, but getting to the village's only tavern was the current priority. 

When he opened the door he prayed that he somehow made it to the tavern before his partner, but as soon as he did the beautiful blonde was looking right at him from her seat in the back of the place. He grinned back at her, a gesture that said 'You missed me, didn't you?', and made his way over to her formulating an alibi in case he needed one. 

Hey there. He said with a wry wink, and enjoyed the jealous looks of the other men at the tavern. The woman seemed to have a man already, from their perspective at least. Seems like your admirers don't like me too much. Rogus took the seat across from her and signaled the nearest bar-maid to bring him an ale.

((OOC: Sorry for the wait, and if this post is confusing, I had a ton of papers to write this weekend.))

[Charlotte]

Ah, there he was. Charlotte returned the cheeky grin the Rogus always seemed to be wearing, her eyes only parting from him momentarily as he sauntered over to where she was seated. She had noticed disappointment in the wandering eyes of the taverners as Rogus approached, and most simply went back to the ales they were nursing. Which was good, considering now was not a time she really wanted the attention of the room.

Charlotte instantly pinpointed that something was off about him as he entered, though, noticing the absence of his red traveling cloak. She rarely saw the man without it, so it’s absence piqued her curiosity. He wasn’t the type to lose something like that – after all, he wore his clothes to absolute shreds before replacing them. The cloak couldn’t have been stolen because of obvious reasons, so why had he decided not to wear it?

As she thought through various scenarios in her head, Charlotte remembered something about her walk that had been a bit off. As was usual for a woman for her profession, she tended to keep an eye on any suspicious individuals to ensure she wasn’t being tailed when headed to a meeting. Now, it was nothing but a passing thought then, but while checking over her shoulder one last time before entering her destination, she recalled catching a glimpse of a man who, at the time, looked very like the thief sitting across from her. He was at a distance and appeared to be just another one of the villagers, so she’d thought nothing of it then, but could it have been him? It was a definite possibility, but she ruled that for now, it wasn’t worth bringing up now as even if she was followed, her conversation wouldn’t have been overheard, so for now she placed the thought on a backburner.

Besides, she had a pint of ale to finish. This house brew was a bit bitter for her taste, so she was hoping to order another.

“Ah, they’ll get over it,” Charlotte joked back after swallowing a rather large mouthful of ale, shaking her head as Rogus sat down across from her. She took another swig, this time finishing the last of her mug before signaling the same barmaid Rogus had called to also bring her another pint. “They’re just not used to seeing women other than barmaid’s in the tavern, I’d presume.”

Charlotte shrugged, knowing that was a common occurrence in small-town taverns like the Dark Lion Grogshop. It was one of the biggest reasons she didn’t tend to drink unless she was in a major city. Too many wandering eyes to make the trip worth it. But considering her partner had wanted to blow off some steam and partake in a few drinks, Charlotte did feel right declining. Besides, they’d been working a lot over the past few weeks, so the break was much deserved.

“Looks like somebody lost his cloak,” Charlotte commented, though not following up on the thought as the barmaid came over with a tray of two more pints, setting one down in front of the blonde and the other in front of Rogus. Charlotte took a sip, the taste reminding her she had forgotten to see if they had any other brews. Oh well. They likely wouldn’t considering the size of the place.

The young woman motioned to her pint. “It’s bitter, but it’s a strong brew. Kind of a fruity taste to it, maybe blackberry?” She sniffed the brew before taking another sip. “Definitely blackberry.”

[Rogus]

You're far too humble, love. Rogus chuckled, implying that her looks, and not the fact that she was simply just a new woman in town, were what the men had been eyeing. The bar maid brought his ale, and he looked at it suspiciously; Rogus had been the victim of rot-gut far too many times to trust every pint of ale that was set before him. When Myscha drank it down within seconds however, Rogus couldn't let himself be out done. He drank the ale down in two swigs, knowing full well he could have done it in one, but decided that in the presence of a lady it was best to show some kind of restraint.

What? Am I not as dashing without it? He grinned. Rogus wasn't one to brag about his appearances, but cloak or no cloak, rugged worn clothes and all, the man still carried the blessing of good looks. He did, however, feel a bit uncomfortable without his beloved red cloak. It was just as much a part of him as his hair was, and he had to admit that ditching the cloak had left him feeling somewhat naked.

His self-conscious thoughts were interrupted by Myscha's observation on the brew's taste and subtle accents. This made him smile, it had been awhile since he'd met someone with a taste for ale, and the fact the woman had hit the brew's flavoring on the head made him even happier. Its rather good all things considering, but its been sitting for too long, its a bit flat. Much better than the swill in Badon, though. Few knew of Rogus's brief career as a pirate in the Lycian port, but he may have let that little hint out for questioning with his eagerness to discuss the finer points of drink. Oh well, its not as if that was one of his great secrets, however he'd be sure to leave out the details of how he was, quite literally, thrown off his ship. That story wasn't best shared in the company of the finer sex, but admittedly if she got him drinking he may let that misadventure be known.

So, when the tavern becomes more lively, are we up for a song and dance? Rogus grinned and looked at myscha with the same unreadable look he gave off almost all the time, and was handed another pint. He nursed this new pint much slower than the last.

[Charlotte]

Charlotte wasn’t surprised to hear Rogus articulate about ale as he did, though the fact that the man she believed to be a drunk might actually be picky about the taste of his drinks was new to her. Granted, she was a bit harsh on the man's drinking habits, considering how much she'd imbibe on multiple occasions just a few years prior. Her taste for ales and stouts had cropped up during her stint as a brewer’s apprentice before she had run off with the smuggler’s caravan. She probably wouldn’t have been half-bad at brewing, considering her palate was surprisingly cultured, but the actual process of brewing bored her. She much preferred figuring out the ingredients and, well, drinking them in the company of others.

Finding she was already half-finished with her pint, Charlotte set the mug down on the table and laughed as Rogus proposed the original purpose of their little ‘date.’ “Please,” she joked, shifting her weight to one side and reaching to her belt to unclip something, “The tavern’s half full; plenty of people to start up a raucous tune to boot, just have to pick the right - ah, here it is!” Having found what she was feeling around for, she pulled what looked to be a respectably-sized leather flask, popping open the cork and smelling whatever was inside before taking a swig. Instantly her face scrunched up as she swallowed, but it quickly relaxed into a smile. She wasn’t the biggest fan of whiskey, but she could still appreciate its aftertaste and the warmth of it going down.

“Smoky and thick, with a hint of cinnamon. Picked it up in Macendew before we left. A lot better than the house ale, that’s for sure.” Charlotte took one more swig before holding the flask out across the table, offering it to her partner. “You like whiskey, right?” She knew the answer was yes, but if Rogus knew the blonde at all by now, he would know that she liked to pose obvious questions but allow people to answer their own way. Word choice, articulation, hell, even the pause or lack thereof before answering taught her a lot about the respective person. And Charlotte was always looking to learn more about the people she worked with.

“So what song do you think these lot would know? Probably not coordinated enough for ‘I Am Athirst,’ though that one is quite a riot when the whole place is sloshed… Seen it go on for an hour before.” A drawn out ‘hmmm’ came from the young woman as she seriously considered what song they might be able to sing to get the tavern on their feet. She knew quite a few, but sometimes it was difficult which songs would be known by which towns. Drumming her fingers on the table, she raised a pointed finger as she thought of one that might work. "Oh! You know Maggie Lauder, right? Bernese love that one!" Taking another swig of her pint, she looked around the tavern, wondering if anyone might have a guitar lying around...


(OOC: Replace Scotland with Bern in Maggie Lauder, you get the point =P)

[Rogus]

The smell coming from the leather flask's brim was all Rogus needed to deduce what it held, and Myscha's face scrunching up confirmed his suspicions. The smell made him smile, and her reaction to the whiskey's rather strong taste made him laugh. When she held it out to him, explaining the taste and her own opinion of the godly nectar Rogus could only look at her with an approving smile and nod. You know I do, love. He took the flask graciously and pulled it to his lips for a small swig to taste. Unlike his counterpart, Rogus' features didn't scrunch up in response to the harsh flavor, a testament to how strong his tolerance for the stuff was. The thief grinned and took a larger gulp of the whiskey, but was careful not to enjoy it too much; he may be a thief, but depriving another of their personal drink was something he considered immoral.

Behind his deceptively vacant look Rogus' mind was running wild with thoughts. Myscha seemed to be a judgemental sort. She always seemed to be looking at each detail as if she was a detective. Rogus wagered he was probably either the most annoying, or challenging mystery Myscha had come across for awhile. He gave very little in conversation, especially due to his vacant eyes and lack of any expression besides a goofy grin. She probably had thought him a fool when she first met him, and in Rogus's opinion she probably still did. In actuality, the hollow eyes and odd grin disguised his quick wit and cunning, two traits he held himself as having in droves. The deception, however, most likely didn't fool the woman sitting opposite of him any more. She knew him far better than most, he simply played his air of mystery too well for most others to figure him out in the short time they would know him. Myscha, however, had one piece of knoweledge that only a handful of people were privy to; Rogus was once a noble. That by itself made his gaze and grin transparent; he was no fool despite the way he normally carried himself.

He handed the flask back to its rightful owner. A hint of cinammon indeed. Rogus agreed. Thanks for the drink... Should loosen my throat enough for a good song! The thief chuckled and listened to Myscha's thoughts on what songs to choose from, drinking from his pint occasionally. She had good taste, and Rogus wasn't too picky when it came to which song would be filling the tavern with merriment, but he had his own choice to offer up.

Who wad'na' be in love wi' bonnie Maggie Lauder? He sung softly in agreement with her suggestion between his grin. Truly, he enjoyed that tune, but there was one he favored over it; he knew that anyone would know it too.

What about the tale of Charlie Mops? It was a simple song, but the tale and the tune was something even a beligerant drunk could appreciate.

[Charlotte]

If Rogus was looking to start the tavern’s tune on Charlie Mops, he had made the wrong choice singing the short line from Maggie Lauder, as Charlotte couldn’t help but finish the line with him, though a bit louder as, with her alcohol imbibement, she was losing volume control on her voice. As he was suggesting the other great drinking song, a few of the men had roared with glee after hearing the first verse of the classic Bernese drinking song, jumping to their feet and calling for more ale as they began belting the chorus.

“Wha wouldna be in love wi' bonnie Maggie Lauder?
A piper met her gaun tae Fife an speirt what was they'd call her?
Richt scornfully she answered him "Begone, you hallanshaker!
Good on yer gate, ye blatherskite, my name is Maggie Lauder"

Charlotte laughed, looking over at Rogus with a shrug of her shoulders; it seemed the crowd had chosen the song to start off the night. So instead of trying to beat them, Charlotte did the only thing that seemed right as they men howled about good ol’ Maggie Lauder: joined them. Jumping to her feet, she raised her glass and began belting the simple tune, unable to contain the rhythm coursing through her. Coming around the table to get Rogus to join her, she began to dance along as well, stomping her right foot in time with the song as she raised her hands to the ceiling, her pint obviously still held up in one.

"Maggie", quo'd he, "and by my bags, I'm fidgin' fain tae see thee!
Sit doon by me, my bonnie bird, by troth I wid not steer ye,
For I'm a piper tae my trade, my name is Rob the Ranter,
The lasses loup as they were daft when I blow up me chanter"
"Piper", quo'd Mag, "hae ye yer bags or is yer drone in order?
If ye be Rob I've heard of you, live ye upon the border?
The lasses a' baith far an near hae heard o' Rob the Ranter!
I'll shake ma fit wi' richt goodwill if ye'll blow up yer chanter"
Then tae his bags he flew wi' speed aboot the drone he twisted
Mag up an walloped o'er the green for brawly could she frisk it.
"Weel done!" quo he, "Play on!", quo'd she, "Weel bob'd", quo Rob the Ranter,
"'Tis worth my while tae play indeed when I hae such a dancer!"
"Weel hae ye played yer part", quo Mag, "your cheeks are like the crimson,
There's nane in Bern plays sae weel since we lost Habbie Simpson!
I've lived in Fife baith maid an wife these ten years and a quarter,
If ye should come tae Ainster fair, speir ye for Maggie Lauder!"

An uproarious cheer sounded from the tavern as they finished, smashing their pints together as they downed whatever was left in their pints, Charlotte doing the same as well. As she finished, she shouted to the room, “Ay, what about ol’ Charlie Mops then?” The mere mention of the tune struck a chord with the room after their warm-up on Maggie Lauder, the men giving a louder shout of approval as they began to chant the beginning of the song, intent on not moving into the first verse until they’d had their ales refilled. All the while , the barmaid quickly ran around, though a roll of her eyes told Charlotte she was not used to the liveliness that had been injected into the pub.

Charlotte did her best to chant along, though she was nearly red in the face from laughing as she watched the room of men swaying and shouting in (relative) unison. She hadn’t seen a tavern this lively since she’d visited Jutes when she was still running with the smugglers. Then again, Charlotte often had a hand in flipping a tavern from tame to uproarious chaos, and she hadn’t tried anything of the sort as of late. Didn’t tend to be good for business, but there weren’t any clients or customers watching her now, just her trusty partner Rogus. And of course, she knew he wouldn't mind.

[Rogus]

Rogus had quite willingly joined in on the second verse of Maggie Lauder, and stood to dance and sing with the rest. It was utter chaos, Rogus went from partner to partner swinging them to the next person, then twirling into dance with the next; all while singing as loud as he could. He'd lost sight of Myscha almost immediately after the tavern exploded, and was only slightly annoyed that he hadn't gotten to dance with her. Just like his partner, Rogus had been laughing hysterically at how quickly the tavern had turned into a full out party. When she called out for the next song (he heard her voice, but still was unable to see her), however, he didn't hesitate to be the one to start it.

Rogus leapt onto the nearest table, raised his mug to everyone around him, downed it in one large chug, and began singing.

A long time ago, way back in histo- ry,
When all there was to drink was nothin' but cups of tea,
A- long came a man by the name of Charlie Mopps,
And he invented the wonderful drink, and he made it out of hops.

Until that point, everyone had been cheering and let the man sing the first few lines, save a few who had begun to sing along. Somewhere after the first verse, someone began to play a flute, much to the cheer of everyone there. His voice was loud, but he was singing it, not yelling the verse; he was a very talented singer, despite his normal, rather gravelly, voice. After the last word, everyone joined in.

Hey! He must have been an admiral, a sultan or a king,
And to his praises we shall always sing;
Look at what he's done for us, he's filled us up with cheer,
Light bless Charlie Mopps, the man who invented...
Beer, beer, beer, tiddley beer, beer, beer...

Rogus had begun doing a jig on the table (somehow he'd managed to grab another pint), singing along with the chorus, but when the next verse came along his voice strained above the rest. Most eyes focused on the thief as he danced, drink in hand, and sang.

The Drunken Rat, the Caelin Drum, the Wexford Inn as well
One thing you can be sure of, it's Charlie's beer they sell;
So all you lads and lasses, at eleven o'clock you stop,
For five short seconds, remember Charlie Mopps!

One... two... three... four... five...

Unfortunately, Rogus may have been a good dancer, but his stage was rather small. When he stomped at the last word, he took a step back to jump for the 'Hey!', but his foot only touched air and he fell hard to the cold stone floor. A hush fell over the crowd, and a few patrons went to see if he was alright...

HEY!

Rogus popped up immediately in a theatrical display, holding his unbroken, still half full, mug in the air as he practically screamed the word to initiate the chorus and the song was back on, to the joy of the crowd, and the thief himself; it would have been a shame to stop the merriment there.

He must have been an admiral, a sultan or a king,
And to his praises we shall always sing;
Look at what he's done for us, he's filled us up with cheer,
light, bless Charlie Mopps, the man who invented...
Beer, beer, beer, tiddley beer, beer, beer...

A bushel of malt, a barrel of hops, stir it around with a stick,
The type of lubrication to make your engine tick;
Forty pints of wallop a day will keep away the quacks,
It's only eight pence halpenny a pint, and one and six in tax.

One... two... three... four... five...


Hey! He must have been an admiral, a sultan or a king,
And to his praises we shall always sing;
Look at what he's done for us, he's filled us up with cheer,
Light, bless Charlie Mopps, the man who invented...
Beer, beer, beer, tiddley beer, beer, beer...

At the song's end everyone cheered loudly and a few gave Rogus a hearty smack on the back. The thief could only laugh and smile as he accepted a few of the congratulatory smacks, one man even handed him a pint. He hadn't gotten back up onto any tables, but he certainly kept singing and dancing until the song's end. He meandered through the crowd looking for Myscha, he still hadn't gotten a dance with her, and since he'd made a rather comical performance with his fall Rogus looked forward to whatever jokes she would throw at him. The singing had stopped for the most part, but the music certainly hadn't. Flutes, lutes, and harps were all still being played.

[Charlotte]

Despite the tavern being full of burly men, there was no shortage of song or dance inside of them as they continued to belt out their hearty tunes. Charlotte danced around the tavern, admittedly not as impressive a sight as usual as she wasn’t wearing one of her many flouncy dresses. That didn’t stop the young blonde from clasping hands with a few of the drunken farmers and swinging to and fro with them. She occasionally caught sight of Rogus as he jigged atop the table, which widened her already large smile even more, but when Charlotte danced in a tavern, she went wherever the flow of the dance took her.

As her dancing took her to one of the back corners of the tavern, Charlotte saw and heard the loud THUMP as Rogus fell from the table. He was up almost immediately, though, the alcohol probably helping against any pain that might have hit him right away from that fall. What a lively character he was, never seemed to miss a stride or a step, even when he clearly did skip a beat. Even when things were rough the man kept dancing on, which was something Charlotte could admire as she could empathize on more than one level. Even when life was roughest, you had to keep moving, whether you were a former street urchin or an ex-noble.

But now wasn’t the time for thoughts like that! The song started again, and Charlotte laughed and began clapping (as she’d finished her pint at some point in her travels across the room), her body swaying in time with the music as her feet continued to take her through the tavern with different dancing partners. She too had noticed that she hadn’t had a dance with her partner, but she knew it would happen at some point in the night.

So with cheeks red with merriment and chest full of song, Charlotte happily sang the last few verses of Charlie Mopps, one hand raised and the other on her hip as her feet did a joyful jig. It had been an awful long time since she’d been in a lively tavern like this, and much longer since she’d danced as freely as she was. For tonight, though, she didn’t much care, only allowing herself to think about what she wanted to take a drink of next.

As the taverners found themselves at the end of their next song, a great cheer coursed through the room, with men again toasting their mugs and drinking down what remained of their mugs. Hands obviously free of drink, Charlotte pulled the flask of whiskey from her hip, having a good, long sip before placing it back on her side. Huh – it didn’t seem to burn as much going down this time. But her mind was already gone from the whiskey, eyes now searching the room for her rogue companion. As soon as Charlotte spotted him, she pushed through the now crowd, laughing as she finally found him, grabbing to his arm for support as she stumbled after pushing through the crowd too quickly.

“I’ve never seen a dance like the one you did!” Charlotte exclaimed jokingly, still unintentionally close to the man as she spoke. “Normally you’d stick a jump like that, but you might start a dance craze with the… The Gus Crash, they’ll call it!” Laughing at her own observation, she looked out over the tavern. The noise level had gone down substantially, but there was still a healthy buzz about the room, as well as a few stringed instruments and a flute or two being played by some of the patrons adding to the ambience. A warmth had begun to buzz within her, likely from a mix of the cheerfulness and alcohol that was coursing through her veins.

Her eyes did one last round around the tavern before Charlotte looked back up to Rogus. “Well, now that you’re out of the spotlight,” Charlotte observed, a rare, genuine smile coming to her lips, “Maybe you can grace your partner with a dance. Though I don’t know if I’m as skillful as you,” she jokingly added with a light jab to the ribs. A few of the men who had retaken their seats had again begun to notice where Charlotte’s attentions were focused, but Charlotte paid them no heed, her focus on the man she’d been traveling with.

[Rogus]

Rogus wasn't expecting Charlotte to appear out of no-where. Nor was his arm quite prepared to be a human support beam. He grinned down at her after she stumbled into him, holding his arm for dear life. Normally, he'd have said something witty, but she was already commending him for his jig and fall, saying that it had the potential to be popular; jokingly of course. He thought the 'Thief's Thud' sounded catchier too, but he wouldn't spoil a healthy laugh by being picky about the name of his dance. In an attempt to help Myscha stand better, and to close the already small gap between them, Rogus wrapped his free right arm around her waist.

To be quite honest, love, it was an accident! He'd leaned in and whispered as if he were telling her a grand secret that only she would have the pleasure of knowing, winking. Of course, that was purely for effect, everyone there knew he hadn't meant to bust his butt on the tavern floor. The thief could tell his partner was in good spirits for the first time in a while; she even laughed genuinely, and displayed the rosy cheeks of someone who'd been enjoying themselves thoroughly.

Like Myscha, Rogus too was red in the cheeks from drink and laughter, and to a somewhat lesser extent; intoxicated. He could tell that his partner had her fair share of drinks, normally she wouldn't be nearly this friendly with him. Banter aside, he was almost positive this was the first time she'd been so close to him for reasons other than pure seduction. Though he'd never admit it, she had him quite flustered. The woman was twice as beautiful through the view of his ale goggles, her laughing and rosy cheeks made him even more worried that a commoner may be out of his league. But why was he worrying about that? They were partners, maybe friends, nothing more.

That fact was immediately made questionable after the next moment. Her genuine smiles were indeed rare, and like many rare things, Rogus had a penchant for admiring them while he could. This particular smile though, held his attention like a ball and chain. He was already enchanted by her features, and the alcohol, but the smile through it over the top. He no longer was glancing around, his eyes were focused on Myscha, his grin hiding his thoughts from her. The thief noticed her eyes were locked on him as well, her desire to survey the crowds seemed to be lost and he was now in her spotlight. After a moments hesitation, Rogus managed to put together an answer for her.

Well, I suppose I could... He gave her a side glance, and a wry grin. He was pretending to play hard to get. Myscha would know by now that Rogus was only teasing her, and that he had fully intended to dance with her. I'll lead-- Oh? I'll be sure to take it slow then! She wasn't as skilled a dancer as he, was she? He didn't buy that one just yet.

Rogus had no intention of taking it slow, after all what fun is a dance if it doesn't match the music's rythm. He wouldn't do anything complicated at least. The ex-noble grinned and grasped Myscha's hand, leading her to a less crowded section of the tavern. The music was still playing at least, and Rogus led his partner in a dance appropriate for the tune. It was obvious Rogus knew his way around a dance or two. He wasn't taking it all that slow either, and even if Myscha struggled to keep up Rogus was adept enough to compensate for it.

((OOC: IRL, my knowledge of dancing doesn't go very far past the generic slow dance and cat daddy, sooo yeah))

[Charlotte]

[OOC: No worries!! I took some liberty in the dancing and kind of moved Rogus a bit, but if it's not what he would have done tell me and I will edit it!! Just wanted to write a bit more of the dancing and keep the flow, hope you don't mind =]]]

Charlotte giggled as Rogus’ hand made its way around her waist and he whispered in her ear. She was in extremely good spirits, and she was sure Rogus would be able to tell all too well that right now, she was not the same person he had come to know and work with over the past few weeks. Usually cool, calculating, and observant, it had taken Charlotte time to hone those traits, even if she was naturally talented when it came to reading people. And it was certainly not the first thought on her mind as she slowly became more intoxicated as the alcohol she drank absorbed into her bloodstream.

Rather, the young woman had two thoughts on her mind right now – Rogus and dancing. The latter was more of a desire than anything, but the former was something perplexing and strange to her, a thought that had been creeping in the back of her head for some time now. Charlotte couldn’t help but wonder if the man always tried to keep up appearances like he did, playing off like nothing bothered him or fazed him. She could always tell there was something behind his eyes, but what it was, Charlotte still had a hard time trying to tell. As she waited for him to accept their dance, she could see it again, but it was gone in an instant as he teased her as he always did.

“Oh, I’ll be able to keep up, don’t you worry!” Charlotte laughed as Rogus grabbed her hand to lead her to a less crowded area of the tavern to give them a bit more room to move. Rogus led the dance, his left hand still clasped in her left as they raised their arms high, starting a bit more traditionally with a lively jig. He set the steps for Charlotte, and she would dance them to her in reply, of course a beaming smile on her features the whole time, her focus again on Rogus alone. Every now and again they would spin in between the step “challenges,” but before long the corner of the tavern began to fill with other men taking the pair’s lead and dancing again, having caught their breath from before. It even seemed the musicians could sense the pace was increasing, so their tunes began to speed up.

With the pace quickening, Charlotte reached around, sliding her free hand into Rogus’s and taking the lead for just a moment as she spun them around a few times, laughing as they bounced and turned. Charlotte was starting to feel light-headed, but it only made her want to dance more, a sense of pure elation washing over her as they danced. She stumbled mid turn, nearly falling as she dissolved into laughter again. But Rogus was able to catch her before she fell, his hand grabbing the curve of her side and pulling her to their hips met. Charlotte wrapped one arm around the middle of his back and kept holding his other hand as they continued bobbing and dancing, though now closer than before.

While Charlotte was out of breath and consumed with dance, song, and alcohol, there was one thing that suddenly crept in to the back of her mind. It was a thought she hadn’t ever entertained before, but considering what good spirits she was in and the fact that she was beginning to trust the thief she danced with more with every passing day, Charlotte figured now was as good of a time as any.

So still dancing with Rogus leading them, Charlotte leaned her face in and spoke slightly louder than usual to make sure Rogus could hear her over the vivacious music and singing and stomping that filled the room once again. “It’s Charlotte, by the way! My name, that is. Some people used to call me Charlie, too.” She hadn’t told the thief yet, despite their weeks of working together closely and becoming partners and she guessed friends too. It had felt odd saying it out loud, considering almost no one knew her real name anymore; Charlotte barely said it herself outside of her own thoughts. Maybe she was tired of no one knowing, or maybe she had had a few too many pints before they danced. Whatever the case, Charlotte knew it felt right, and for some reason it was important to her that Rogus knew her real name. Not because they were partners, but because of whatever it was their friendship was.

[Rogus]

I'm sorry, but only one of us gets to make a fool out of themselves today! Rogus laughed, catching the woman by her hip before she could fall to the floor. He was leaned over her, his arm the only thing between her and gravity. In the brief moment that he held her, his eyes were locked onto her and there Rogus briefly flashed a smile. Maybe it was because he was drunk, but he couldn't help himself after seeing his partner acting so care free. Normally, Myscha was nothing but an ice cube, a very observant ice cube. She never seemed to let her guard down, or show much true emotion. He enjoyed this new version a bit more than the usual Myscha. The look he was giving her was the same as the one before, the one that she was unable to figure out.

As quickly as this gaze appeared it was gone at the moment he brought her back into the dance, pulling her up in a way that the two partners were closer than before; their hips met and Rogus felt Myscha's arm wrap around the middle of his back. The dance continued in this more personal fashion. Rogus' attentions were so focused on his partner and the dance that the migration of the tavern goers into the newly designated dance floor was completely missed. This was quickly becoming one of the more fun dances he ever had, and he had to admit that the woman whom he was dancing with played a large role in that. Rogus thought he may finally have met the real Myscha, but he was soon proven wrong; Rogus hadn't finally seen the real Myscha, he'd finally met Charlotte.

“It’s Charlotte, by the way! My name, that is. Some people used to call me Charlie, too.”

That was something the thief hadn't seen coming. He'd always suspected Myscha was just her false name, but he'd honestly overlooked what her real name might be. The dance didn't falter despite the surprise.

Its nice to meet you, Charlie. Rogus grinned and winked at her, continuing to lead the dance. I hope I'm allowed to be the someone that still calls you that... When not in the company of others. He knew she hadn't told any of the other thieves, and everyone he'd seen that knew her called her Myscha. Rogus fully understood what a privelage he'd been allowed, and like the other secrets the two had shared; this one would never reach the ears of anyone else unless Charlotte herself told them. He could see that this information held importance to her, and that she was happy with her decision to share.

Rogus was a bit conflicted over this seemingly minor exchange. Though he was still drunk, he began to realize that their recent interactions; dancing much closer than two friends, and especially 'business' partners should, the reveal of Charlotte's real name, the way neither of them seemed to unlock their gaze from one another, were becoming more and more personal. Was it appropriate for the two of them to behave like this? Sure, they were both drunk, but they were functional enough to dance impressively surely they still had enough sober brain cells to remember who and what they were. Apparently not because Rogus decided to ignore that bummer of a thought. What was truly bothering him was the thought that this had probably only come about because of alcohol. He decided to shove that one aside too, there was no reason in ruining the fun they, and everyone else were having. because of it.

I suppose its my turn to share something, eh? Speaking loud enough for her to hear mid-spin, he chuckled, he knew how Myscha would reply, but he wondered how Charlotte would.

[Charlotte]

Had her eyes tricked her? Had she witnessed a real smile coming from Rogus for just a moment? Charlotte wasn’t entirely sure as the moment had come and gone so fast as they danced, but she swore she had seen both corners of his mouth curl into a smile as opposed to just one turning his features into his usual devilish smirk. It wasn’t easy to get a genuine expression out of either of them, so Charlotte was almost positive that was what she had seen. And it was a handsome smile, too.

While giving her real name was important to her, Charlotte was glad Rogus seemed to not only understand, but not make a big deal out of it. “I wouldn’t have told you if I wanted otherwise,” she laughed, continuing to follow his lead as he spun them around, keeping their movements in time and rhythm with the music.

It was a strange line the ‘business’ partners were toeing right now, but frankly Charlotte didn’t care. Her impulsive youth had burst from her when the song and drink had begun in the tavern, and Charlotte saw no reason to quell its rise. Their tone and conversation was so different from their first meeting, when their conversation was more of a battle than anything else. Instead of narrowed eyes and pointed words, they relied on hearty laughs and kindred high spirits. Charlotte lived for the battle of wits, but she had to admit, it was nice not having to mentally spar for a change. It was nice feeling free for a few hours, like she didn’t need to try and outsmart an opponent.

But a slightly sobering thought came to her as Charlotte’s hand shifted inside of Rogus’. Would they be here if they hadn’t been drinking? Would they have had the same kind of conversation as before without their liquid courage? She was having the time of her life, but was that because of the company or because of the drink? It was troubling, sure, as Charlotte wanted to believe she wasn’t being uninhibited just because of a few pints, but she wasn’t so sure. The old “Charlie” had finally come out after years of wall-building and shielding, but was that who she really was anymore?

Shaking those thoughts away for now, Charlotte refreshed her briefly fading smile as Rogus spoke. The old sharing game, ey? Turning round twice more, the two stopped spinning, their dancing not halted but steadying itself for a moment as one question that had been itching at Charlotte for a while came to mind. As they continued to move to and fro, Charlotte kept her left hand firmly held in Rogus’s as the other slid out from behind his back. With his cloak gone, much of the man’s arms were exposed, though a short sleeve covered the brand that the both of them knew to be there. Her eyes following her own motions, Charlotte’s soft hand touched Rogus’ warm bicep, sliding up under the sleeve over the brand. She could still feel the scar that he'd incurred from the night they'd met. The blonde looked back up to him, her jubilant smile having faded for an inquisitive gaze with a hint of concern, a look the thief rarely wore.

She tried to keep her voice low enough that the whole tavern wouldn’t hear while still loud enough so Rogus could hear her simple but heavy question. “What happened?” Part of the question came from her usual information-hungry self, but Charlotte couldn’t attribute only that to the reason she wanted to know. In fact, that was the least driving force behind bringing her question to light.

[Rogus]

For a moment, Rogus' smile faded and his expression turned solemn. He knew what her question would be, but he wasn't quite prepared for the meaningful way she had asked it. She seemed almost worried about him, and that scared the man. He had been prepared to tell her weeks ago when they were less than partners and more of adversaries, but now he was worried she may think less of him. Despite this, Rogus felt like she deserved to know. Perhaps it was the way her hand rested gently under his sleeve; at first it had felt alien and invasive, but her tone, and the concerned look in her eye made it feel warm and comforting. Or maybe because she had told him her real name, Charlotte, he felt he owed a secret. Whatever the case, Charlie had opened up to him in more ways than one in this tavern, and Rogus knew he wanted to do the same.

Perhaps this isn't the right time, love... He said quietly, Rogus had lowered his head to be closer to her ear so she could hear. We're having a great time, aren't we? He trailed off. For once, Rogus was as readable as he'd ever been. He was obviously surprised by the way she'd asked the question, and it seemed he was carefully selecting his words so he wouldn't distance her, or ruin the rather enjoyable time they were spending together. After a few moments of continuing the dance in silence, Rogus gave up trying to be careful, and just told her exactly how he felt about this.

I don't... I don't want you to think less of me right now. I'd rather give you the full story privately, too. His way with words helped him from sounding like a blubbering idiot, but she'd be able to tell the question had caught him off-guard, and that he was having some sort of conflict with how to answer. Rogus hated sounding so weak, he hated not being able to smile and look her in the eye as he spoke. He almost hated her for asking the question. He figured now was the best time to stop hating everything, and just face the issue like a man. He'd once told Ryuzaki that if he'd only change the way he thought, the way he saw the world would change as well. It was time to practice what he preached.

Rogus raised his head up so that he could look Charlotte in the eye, and raised his voice just enough so that she could still hear. He didn't grin, or smile. The woman would know that Rogus was opening up in a more genuine way than simply sharing a secret. He gave her a firm look that told her to hold back any sympathy; what had happened wasn't as tragic as someone would assume.

Charlie, I didn't want the life of a noble. I hated being pampered, and having it easy. I betrayed my family, and tried to steal from the castle vault... and I got caught. He kept the story as concise as he could. Rogus left out almost all of the details, but explained his reasons for the most part. The full story, and explanation, could be shared in a less public place. He felt a tinge of guilt for not trusting her earlier, and following the woman to her meeting, but he planned on making up for it. Obviously he could trust her, and he wished he hadn't been stupid enough to think otherwise.

There's much more to it than that... I want to tell you the rest when we're alone. The word 'want' stood out. He could have said 'You deserve to know' or, 'I'll tell you the rest later', but he said 'I want to tell you'. That mattered to Rogus, even if it didn't matter to Charlotte.

Unless of course, I seem so utterly selfish that you hate me now. He grinned to hide the insecurity of his last few words behind a false joke. He knew it was entirely possible that what little he had told her was enough to change her whole opinion on the man. He was worried that it would too.

((OOC: Sorry again for the absence! I had written a response on the 29th, but apparently it was lost in the forum.))

[Charlotte]

To many, the subtle changes in expression, the tilt of his eyes, even the slight furrow of his brow, would go unnoticed. Charlotte was not one of them, though, as she tilted her head to the side and she studied Rogus’s face. Her eyes darted between the corners of his mouth, the light curving around his cheekbone, the slight wrinkle in his forehead, everything. It was something she did with almost every person she met, but it was rare she was able to do so this close to someone, with little barrier between them.

Because Charlotte had, as much as a secretive person like herself can, opened herself as a book for Rogus as they danced in the tavern, Rogus seemed to be doing the same. The surprised then somber nature of his features... these were looks that she had never seen the man wear, and she tried to memorize how his face looked when it wasn’t crinkled in a devilish grin. It made her feel closer to him, and the small insight had become a secret shared in and of itself. But there was still more on the table, and Rogus looked conflicted about addressing it here.

The right time... Charlotte broke their line of sight for a moment, not sure what to think. Had she asked the wrong way? Of course, even she made mistakes in her locution, and she didn’t want the man to feel uncomfortable with something she had asked. Wait, when had she ever cared about something like that? A tightness formed in Charlotte’s chest as she looked Rogus in the eyes once again, her eyes glassy and confused. She was worried: not just about what she had said, but the fact that she was worried about something she said. She knew she was inebriated, but she still thought clearly, she still could make decisions. So why was she feeling so... empathetic?

Rogus hadn’t finished, though. The tightness in Charlotte’s chest grew worse as he expressed that he didn’t want her opinion of him to lower. He had looked away from her, too, and the woman knew that was a surefire sign that he was telling the truth. For most, breaking eye contact was a sign of lying, as hiding their face silently told Charlotte that they had something to hide from her. But with people like herself and Rogus, who were very skilled in lying, it was one of the most telling signs of truthfulness. They looked away when things became too personal, too raw, too real.

Charlotte still didn’t know what to make of the two of them being so… genuine with one another. On one hand, it was comforting having someone to share things you could tell to no one else. To many it may not have seemed like much, but the both of them had, at this point, shared enough that one could ruin the other, in more ways than one. But the goal of all the sharing, had it only been for that? For leverage? Charlotte didn’t think so, and she was fairly certain that Rogus thought that too.

And while she might not ever truly understand what it was like to be in his shoes, her troubles so different from his, in a way, Charlotte could understand. Both of them had done terrible things, but they were to get by. Maybe Rogus hadn’t needed to get by financially, but for some people money wasn’t the end all. Charlotte felt partially fulfilled by having more money than she’d had five years ago, but Rogus’ reasons for doing this seemed… different. Was his reason, much like Charlotte’s other one, that he needed something more thrilling than normalcy? Maybe.

The young woman had noticed as the man said he wanted to tell her. To him, it wasn’t owed to her in some game, it wasn’t something he had to do. The spirits only know, if Rogus had to do it, he might not have simply because it was more fun not to. No, Rogus expressly said he wanted to tell her, which in turn meant that he wanted her to know. He wanted her to understand, in a way who he was – and who he had been. Why he had made the decisions he had. The thoughtful way he had told her made her mind buzz alive with thought, running through different scenarios and ways that could end.

Charlotte smiled; there was the grin she was all too familiar with. The blonde didn’t know which Rogus she liked more; the one who grinned and joked and made cheeky comments, or the one she had just been privy to for just a few moments. She did her best to maintain her own smile, as she was feeling so unlike herself, so insecure, and all of her inner thoughts and musings were making her want to desperately put her walls back up again. Could she handle being so open with someone again? Bearing their past burdens like this? She was thinking about all of this too much, getting ahead of herself, wasn’t she? Her mind often took off running in thought when it needed to be at walking pace, but especially under the influence of alcohol, it was harder to meticulously control and categorize her thoughts as she usually did.

She shook her head in response to his off-handed comment, some of her long hair having slipped forward on her shoulder and now obscuring one of her eyes. “I want you to tell me when we’re alone too,” she said simply, her voice wavering a bit. If nothing else, Charlotte respected Rogus more than ever now, with how open he had been with her, so she didn’t mind waiting until the time was right. Too, she was starting to feel a bit lightheaded and dizzy, likely due to the fact that she had barely been breathing in the past few moments, so caught up in the moment and in her thoughts that she’d, well, forgotten. Still close to her partner, Charlotte softly laid her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes for a moment as she sighed. She moved her hand from Rogus’s bare skin to rest on his upper middle back, her other still clasped in his. Even with the raucous tavern around them, everything seemed to grow quiet as she rested her head on his broad, strong shoulder.