Most every town has it, just look around enough on the side streets and you can find it. For Ravenwing, it was in a run down building not far from the King's Brewery. Now he has set down at a table in back with a few very old and very tattered books. The second hand shop had them rat-holed away, next to an old couch. Ravenwing was able to convince the owner to sell them cheap.

While he was waiting or a beer, Ravenwing took his stetson off and set it on the other side of the table. His duster followed after, reveling a plain white longsleeve shirt. The shirt was tucked into a pair of faded blue jeans that ended over a pair of clean but well worn black cowboy boots. His black hair was pulled back and tied with a short leather strip.

Ravenwing reached into the duster and retreived a notebook and pen. He set tehm down and then made himself comfortable. Shortly after, the beer arrived. Ravenwing only noticed enough to slide the beer to the center of the table and then take the top book and carefully open it. If anyone saw the books, they would see that they were books about vampires. Most would assume that they were fantasy, Ravenwing thought so once, but now, Ravenwing believed. Now he would study.... And maybe, he would learn something interesting.

Morrigan entered the tavern with a bored look on her pretty face. Her pale hands unbuttoned her brown tench coat, letting fresh heat to hit her blue jeans and blue, button-down shirt. Her black tennis shoes had a speck of blood on them. Not that it mattered. Mortals tended not to notice or care about such things. To most she appeared as an innocent, young woman.

The cold outside and the drama at home was getting to her. Young rants and raves never appealed to her. Bliss wasted his time on obessions, which was currently switching from cell phones to shoes. Amadahy was running around town trying to make friends, sucking blood every which way. Poor, old Morrigan was hanging on by a string.

Her dark eyes scanned the bar, looking for something amusing. Something to enrich her eternal life. At the back sat a man reading books. Morrigan's left brow went up. That was not something one saw everynight. She was too lazy to use her vampire gift to pick up his emotions at the moment. Instead, she choose the mortal way. Quietly, she walked across the bar and stopped at his table, offering her sweetest smile yet.

"Are you too busy for a little conversation?" She asked politely, brushing dark brown curls out of her eyes.

The books were interesting reading. Ravenwing had hardly touched the beer as he read. He had jotted done a few notes, but as he had just started the first book, not much information had been found. Mainly, this book showed the istory of vampire kind according to the author. Ravenwing continued to read as the night slipped further along it's slow way.

He didn't see her as much as sense her approaching. He Ravenwing looked up to see a pretty face looking at him. As she asked her question, Ravenwing stood up, letting the book close as he rose.

Certainly, I always have time for conversation. Ravenwing hurried to move his duster from the table, tossing it to the seat next to where he was sitting. May I take your coat. Although Ravenwing was glad she came over to talk, he was confused. After all, it wasn't like the ladies always came up to him. Truth be told, most times, they stayed away.

Have a seat. My name is Ravenwing. Yours would be?

Morrigan gladly let the man take her coat and thanked him. He's a gentleman, she thought, noting the facts that he rose and took her coat. That is not a common thing now days. For a second she glanced at the books. They appeared to be about vampires. Morrigan had read plenty about the undead. It was a popular subject, as well as magick, myth, and mystery. Plus, it amused her to read about all the lore that came with vampires.

"Hello, Ravenwing. I am Morrigan," she said, cheerifully, helping herself to a chair. The lass did not mind telling her real name. Lying never suited her. Not that she would introduce herself as a vampire like Bliss would.

"May I get you anything, miss?" A waitress asked her. Morrigan ordered a beer and thanked the fates that she could still consume the mortal diet. It aided in creating the illusion of life.

"So, it seems you have quite a bit of reading on your hands. Resreach of somesort?" Morrigan asked Ravenwing, still not using her vampire gift to read him.

Ravenwing set her jacket down on the edge of the table and waited for her to sit. Morrigan? That's an older European name isn't it? Ravenwing thought that her parents must be history buffs. Usually, it seemed, people named their kids somewhere along their interests if possible. Or after a family name somewhere down the line. Seeing how geneology wasn't that widespread, it must be history buffs.

Ravenwing was just about to ask her what she would like to drink, when the waitress appreared. That settled, he closed his notebook.

Research?... Yes I think you could say it is a bit of research. Always pays to gain a little knowledge here and there. Don't you think so? Ravenwing smiled a little as he gently rubbed the cover of the top book. Sometimes you find the the most interesting things in old books such as these.

The waitress came with Morrigan's beer and Ravenwing raised his glass. Cheers. Ravenwing took a sip. Te beer had gotten warm, but it did not bother him. Too many nights in burned out bars had killed his taste buds when it came to beer. Warm or cold, it tasted all the same to him now. So what brings you out at this late hour?

Morrigan could not help but grin. Ravenwing's comment about her name was interesting. She was glad she choose to speak with this one. Part of her wanted to blurt out the reason for her name, but she would have to reveal her age. A lady never tells her age. Instead, she sat there, smiling, until he asked why she was out so late. Why was she out? Oh, yes, vampire lunatics.

"A Celtic name," Morrigan stated, refering to his earlier comment. She took a sip of the beer. The cold alcohol was pleasing, but only made her crave blood more. "A goddess, actually." She paused and set the drink down. A soft sigh escaped her. "Honestly, I'm just out, enjoying the night air. I needed to get away from home for a little while." Which was true. The hunger for blood was not strong enough for her to hunt, yet. She would visit a dance club for that, maybe. Or perhaps an alley.

"What of your name?" Morrigan asked, politely, "If you don't mind me asking. I like it, but it is uncommon." Her head tilted slightly, watching the man carefully. Her brow pinched with curiousity.

Celtic you say. Well a pretty name for a pretty lady. Ravenwing listened as she explained here wandering. Not much night air here. Best place for that is in the forest around here. You get away from the cars and factorys spitting their foul breathe and then you can taste the night air. Here, it is just dark.

Ravenwing was surprised that she asked about his name. Not many people did. My name? Well... I'm Comanche Indian. I was given a name on my birth, just like any other. For us though, tradition dictates that we get our man name. Once the time came, I had managed to shoot a raven through the wing with an arrow. So my grandfather named me Ravenwing. Could have been worse. I could have slipped in the mud and be named dirty bottom. Ravewning smiled. The naming ceremony was almost like yesterday. The dancing and gifts, the roar of the fire, how proud his grandfather was of him. All that and so much more passed before his eyes. If only his people had stayed like that. Maybe.. Maybe..

Ravenwing blinked and looked at Morrigan. Sorry, kinda blanked out a bit. So, what do you do here?

Morrigan listened intensely, imagining a boy striking a raven. She smiled. Most modern people could not relate to old weapons. But, apparently, Ravenwind could. Morrigan noticed that he zoned out for a moment. She guessed he was remembering.

Postponing answering his question she took another sip of beer. "I bartend from time to time," Morrigan said, after gulping down half the glass. She paused. She had yet to give anyone a good excuse for all her wealth. Most of the time she claimed that her roommate, Bliss, was the money-maker. His work was not famous though, which made the lie difficult to cover up. Of course, other than her clothes, he had seen nothing that would suggest wealth. She was safe for the moment. Then she relized her tattoos were showing.

She blinked twice. Ravenwing seemed well educated. Clever enough to know that the tattoos were not normal. But was he educated enough to notice the symbols and what they meant? Her markings were Celtic. Vampire Celtic, that is. Dark, strange flames were etched into her wrists. The marks on her back and ankles were hidden, fortunately.

Morrigan smiled, remaining calm. "What is it you do?"

You tend bar? An interesting job. I'm not sure I could do that one. Too many different drinks to know. Best I could do is pour a beer. Ravenwing was getting interested in this lady. Must be a bit hazardous though. You have cut yourself, or maybe it was someone else that bled on your shoes. Ravenwing smiled. and raised his glass to her, then finished the beer.

Ravenwing thought about the question. Would you like another drink? He sat back and studied her for a bit. Well, right now, I'm just looking for a job. I guess you could call me under qualified for most legal jobs. My job in the Army wasn't something that employers want. Until I find one, I'll just keep on reading I suppose. The flames on her wrist caught his attention. Why he didn't see them before, he wasn't sure. So why did you get flames on your wrists? His tattoos remained hidden underneath his shirt. They were his badges of honor and as such, he was not ashamed of them, but most would not know the honor they represent. and some just couldn't help but joke about them. As he wasn't looking for a fight most tiimes, he kept them hidden. Did she have the flames for a purpose, or was she one of those people that just looked at a tattoo artist book and said, how pretty I’ve got to have it? Somehow, he didn't think it was the last one.

Morrigan tried not to choke while she drank some more beer. Ravenwing had mentioned the blood. He did not seemed bothered by it though, thankfully. But she was not sure that discussing tattoos was any better. She played with the napkin under her drink while she thought of an answer. But her inner Celt took over, finally. She had to brag.

"They represent an important event. An event that saved my family's name," she said, her chest puffing out proudly. "I did something brave and noble, bringing honor to my kin." This was the truth. She considered her sire, Camlin, as family. He inked the flames into her wrists the night after she became an immortal. The next night the pair conquered his greatest enemy.

Morrigan blushed. She had said too much. Maybe. "Another drink? Yes, please."

He hit something, that much was evident to Ravenwing as she talked. What bothered her? Not the Tattoos as she seems quite proud of those. That left the blood. Why would a few drops of blood bother her? Hell, after tending bar, with the fights that usually erupt there, a few drops of blood can't be all that bad. Oh well, a riddle for another time.

Ravenwing signalled for two more beers. Not many people get tatoos because of that these days. It used to be pretty big years ago, a brave deed or a significant event was tatooed in certain areas. For us, it used to be that a feast full of dancing and giving of gifts. Of course, the family of the one that did the deed gave those gifts, and most of those were aquired by raiding. These days, we settle for tattoos as well. Most of us can't afford to buy all those gifts.

The drinks arrived and Ravenwing played with the glass for a bit. The times we live in does not place such a high value on honor.

After Ravenwing's words Morrigan stared off into space. "True," she agreed, "Honor, pride, bravery, virtue...these things seem to mean nothing now." She sounded heart broken and she was. The values that fueled her people were now only parts of fantasy novels. She let out a heavy sigh, then forced herself back to the present.

"Thank you for the beer," she said, raising her glass, "Let's toast...to honor." Her voice was strong with purpose, but she was smiling as if the toast as only an excuse to drink. The vampiress was serious, though. This mortal understood honor and how important it was.

"I have other tattoos, by the way," she told him. She could not help but show off.

To honor then. Ravenwing raised his glass to Morrigan And then took another drink. It was nice to see that there was someone else that thought about honor. Ravenwing thought back to the Commanders office when, in his class A's, he was told that he was no longer wanted in the Army. The Commander told him that he had no call to attack the soldiers, that what he did was wrong. It didn't matter that they had damn near raped those young girls. The Army talked a good game about honor, too bad it couldn't live up to the talk. Ravenwing forced those old thoughts back to the corner of his brain that they normally were kept. He realized that he had been frowning and smiled at Morrigan.

How many more do you have? Are they something I can see, or did you save them for someone special? Ravenwing smiled as he said that. As for myself, my feathers are for touching the enemy before I killed them. For my tribe, that was at one time considered the bravest thing to be done. Plus, it seems to me to be the most honorable way to wage war. Seems we have lost that art in modern warfare.


((OOC Sorry to take so long. Had a busy week. And now I'm having a time getting back into my char.))

"I have one, very large tattoo on my back. A couple on my ankles, too," Morrigan said, "And, yes, I have a few 'special' ones as well." She added a laugh at the end. "Feathers for touching the enemy? Interesting. Touching the attacker is brave. Sometimes it is impossible not to. But, when was someone like you fighting? As far as I known, the battle between white folk and natives has died down."

Morrigan felt a little embrassed about asking such a question. She could sometimes be too bold, she knew. Hopely, Ravenwing would take offence. She took another swig of beer and thought about past battles. Then, she grimanced. Wars were so ugly and cruel. There were definately more fight in which only her weapons touched the enemy. She drank, again.

"Enough about fights," she said, wanting to change the subject, "Do you have any hobbies?"

(ooc: No problem. Take your time!)

Ravenwing smiled. There were always one or two “special” tattoos. I was in the US Army for a time. If you are good enough, there are always jobs that put you in contact with the bad guys. For better or worse, I am good enough.
Hobbies? Ravenwing thought a few seconds. Well…. I have a small ranch on the edge of the city. Got a couple of horses and I ride them. I go camping some and I shoot rifles and bow. Occasionally I whittle as well. Most nights I like to read, and I think that is just about it. How about you? What interests you?

Ravenwing looked as an older couple left the bar. The woman had her arm around her man's waist helping him along. Ravenwing watched as they walked to the door, then turned back to Morrigan.

Tabbi walked just down the street to a different club type scene. It seemed a good place to hide out for a bit till the street cleared from people fleeing the White Mice. She found a stool by the bar and sat down. Normally this wouldnt be her thing, but tonight, it was. She felt a bit odd, sitting dressed in an obviously rave styled minidress and stillettos, but noone was looking over at her.
She ordered a soda and sat quietly watching the door to see if trouble was going to follow. Probably not, her life was typically very booring, tonight was just unusual. To look less conspicuous, she pretended to be interested in the video game that was near her.

Ravenwing looked up and saw the young girl walk in. He watched her a she made it to the bar and sat down. Dmn young for a bar. He thought. He decided to keep an eye on her just so she didn't get into any trouble.

Tabbi kept peeking out at the door, obviously looking at something. Sometimes she would jerk back like she was afraid of being seen, other times she would almost lean around the end of the bar to get a better view.
Finally she stood up, smoothed her dress down, and checked her hair in the mirror reflection. She stopped, noticing a guy checking her out. She pretended not to notice, and rocked one hip, in the sultry sexy pose that girls always assume in the girly mags that guys seem to go nuts over. From her purse, she pulled her little perfume bottle and with a pink painted nail she dabbed a little on her neck, then her chest, just below the already low cut front.
She pulled her hair back, pulling a few strands from the chrome plated collar choker and shifted to her other foot, rocking her hips as she did, giving her admirer a chance to see the silk dress slide smoothly over her body. She loved a little attention, and she wasnt above taking it where she could get it. The night was a total loss so far, one dead guy, lost her job, night club turned into a police raid, and the little red headed girl she was eyeing had ran the other way.
Tabitha sighed and put her arms behind her head, stretching her back, arching well beyond normal, to the arch only gymnasts tend to be able to do.
Whatever else this night was going to bring, it was still rather early, and it wasnt like she had to worry about getting up for work tomorrow...

!6, couldn't be older than 16 and in a bar. Ravenwing kept glancing over at the girl at the bar. He hoped Morrigan would understand as there seemed something odd about the girl. He dropped his hand down and checked his bowie knife just in case. This girl was hunting trouble, and from the looks of it, she had found some tonight already. The bartender wasn't paying much attention. If he had, he would have tossed her out on her ear by now.

It seemed as most of the other patrons were ignoring the girl, so Ravenwing split his attention between the girl, the door, and Morrigan. Hopefully, the trouble the girl was courting wouldn't show.

As the crowd passed, Tabbi started to feel better. The cop didnt seem to be chasing her, and noone else came in. She grinned and sat on the stool to decide what to do next. The night was young, and she was already dressed to thrill, so she decided to make the most of it. Where, that was the question. So far the White Mice has run for the hills. She grinned wondering if they had a Starbucks or maybe a good rave club near. She checked her hair and make up and decided to check out the dance music here, if it sucked, then there was always another club... "after all, its not like someone was trying to kill me or anything. " she joked with herself. "I hope" she added quietly as she turned to look for the dance floor.

Morrigan could sense the girl before she entered the bar. The girl was young, but not completely ignorant. The vampiress kept most of her vision on Ravenwing, though her senses were bouncing off the wall trying to keep the girl in check. This one could be trouble, she thought.

She noticed that Ravenwing was also watching the girl. "The lass does seem a bit young to be here, yes?" Morrigan asked Ravenwing, her voice low. Her Celtic accent coming out hard. She cleared her thoart, hoping Ravenwing was not a master of languages. "If I worked here, she'd be out already. But this place doesn't always get enough business. The bartender probabaly doesn't care."

Suddenly, Morrigan winced, touching her forehead as the pain of low blood hit her. She regathered herself quickly, not wanting too much attention. But the cold feeling in her thoart lingered. She gulped more beer, the alcohol was starting to effect her. As much as she should head home at the end of night, she did not want to. Part of her hoped the beer would give her the courage to go elsewhere.

And rid me of this pain...

Tabbi smiled, as she liked to smile, it typically made other people smile too. In a room full of smiling people, its hard to be a poo poo head. She giggled at the thought. She walked over to the music selection and bit her lip. It was by far not the kind of techno and goth rock she was used to. "Hmmm.... this is like... egg head music, maybe I totally chose the wrong place and stuff." she thought looking perplexed. "I didnt think these places really existed... wow, heres a story to tell... oh heck, I dont know anyone yet except that Rin lady.. I wonder if she made it out ok, I should probably go look and see, since its rather... cerebral here." she muttered to herself as she turned.
She noticed more eyes on her so she did exagerate her saunter a bit as she headed back to the doors to peek out and see if the cops were there or not.

Ravenwing caught the slip in accent. He had heard another person do it before. A 1st LT from Boston slipped during a speech once. But this wasn't Boston, this was something from Scotland or Ireland. The only thing that helped him to remember was watching Star Trek with friends. So he couldn't resist as he replied.

Aye, that she is lassie. Ravenwing winked at her to let her know that it was all in fun. Trouble is though, I think she is hiding from someone. She's watching for someone to come in and is trying to hide it.

Ravenwing watched as the girl moved across the bar and idlely scan the jukebox selections. He then looked at Morrigan. If she leaves, would you mind taking a walk with me? I think maybe it would be better if someone watched her to make sure she gets somewhere safe. The way she is acting, and dressed, I'm a tad worried.

Morrigan was stunned, at first, at Ravenwing's Irish joke. Not offended, but surprised. She had half expected him to become instantly suspicious, outraged, and leap over the table to kill her. Then, her common sense reclaimed her. Of course, he would not jump to the conclusion "she is odd so she must be a vampire". And only a very well trained linguist would know my Irish is a bit Celtic, she thought, switching her mind from warrior mode to almost human-like mode. She relaxed, allowing herself to smile at his remark.

"No, I would not mind joining you for a walk," she said, "I am just as concerned for the girl." Morrigan's narrowed as she watched the young one. The girl did appear to be hiding from someone or something. Not letting her eyes off of Ms. Trouble she finished her beer. The unmistakable buzz of alcohol was streaming through her. A vampire drinking on such a low blood level is just as bad as not eating all day and drinking rum.

Just as she figured, nothing but violin and flute music, like those people on Braveheart would play. She sniffed. In other words, crap. "Hmmph... people actually pay money to hear bag pipes? Shit, I'd pay good money just to get someone to shut the hell up if they played them." she joked to noone in particular. She shrugged and wandered back to the door. The street was still active with people comming and going, mostly looking for someplace to hide, there was a storm comming. She leaned her head against the door and turned back to the bar. Leaning back, against the door, she sniffed. The pupils of her eyes widenned as she peered into the darkenss. She couldnt put a finger on it, but something felt queer. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood up, there was something wrong, but what it was she didnt know.
She walked to the bar and without asking, took a glass from in front of a guy who appeared to be on the verge of passing out and sat at a table. From her little purse she pulled out a plastic bag, which she poured the contents of, being eye shadow, brushs, and some foundation, back into her purse, then poured the drink into the bag, then poured some hand lotion into it. She zipped the seal shut and put it back into her purse, next to her lighter. She smiled, feeling more comfortable with her subway distress flare ready. The night looked like there was something in the wind, and she liked being at least a tiny bit read. As she went back to the door, she snagged a book of matches and pulled one out, then bent the cover around so that it held the match on the striking strip. She kept it that way as she walked out.

Ravenwing watched as first, the girl made the fire cocktail, then stowed it in her purse. He took a final drink from his glass and pulled some money out to lay on the table. I believe the time to go is at hand.

Ravenwing got up and then helped Morrigan out of the booth. He put on his duster, without fastening the front then set his stetson on his head. Ready? he asked Morrigan.

Morrigan nodded to Ravenwing, pulled on her coat, and toss a roll of bills on the table. The alcohol seemed to give a kick as blood rushed to her skull. It was quickly drowned out by Morrigan's concerns for the girl. Not that she was afraid for the girl's safety, that was only part of it. But a sparky lass with a flare for a purse was potently dangerous. Of course, Ms. Blair could always just use her extra special talents to solve the problem, but she perferred not to. Especially with mortals around.

Morrigan fastened up her coat, remembering she had tucked away a spare dagger and a wooden stake, just in case. She patted the secret pocket were the large knife was and looked at Ravenwing. "I'm glad you decided to keep an eye on her," she said, "I just hope nothing happens." But Morrigan knew, deep within, she would not mind a little action.

The night was starting to get a bit cool, so tabbi stuck close to the wall as she walked down the street. The people out and about were chatting as they peeked into the different clubs and tried to decide where would be a great place to resume whatever they were doing at the Mice, before it emptied. She felt something wrong, but couldnt put a finger on it. It was like when she was on a sub way in New York, being watched, but not knowing who. Still, she pressed on, hoping that the cop or they lunatic he was after were not the ones looking, following, maybe hunting....