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Where: The Navigator's Pub, Durem
When: Friday night, the middle of the month, end of summer.
Weather: Crisp and cool, but not quite enough for a jacket.



Rivener sat at one of the carved wooden booths at the side of the room, a tall triple-shot of vodka before him. He didn't drink it yet though there were already four similar glasses waiting beyond it: he'd be inpolite to begin before everyone had arrived. Laz shouldn't be far, of course, and had needed no invite to this outing. It was his and Rivener's traditional monthly Drinking Night Out, and the Navigator's had been the favorite place of late. It was a comfortable establishment, with dim lighting along the walls and a series of wooden booths for groups to be alone, like little private parties. The two male Sigels didn't usually bother with anything but the bar itself, but today was special.

Today, Melisande was coming.

Rivener finished writing the text he'd been typing on his cell and sent it, smiling. Zul would no doubt be happy to receive the news, and it still stunned Riv to think so. I'm at the Pub with Laz, Melisande's invited. I'll talk to you later and tell you what happened. Maybe he'd get a chance to smooth things over a bit between the muse and the demon? He hoped Viola had managed to get the message to Pasha: the shopkeeper had insisted that she had, but Riv wouldn't be sure until he saw the dainty femme himself.

He smoothed a hand through his hair self-consciously. He'd pondered what to wear to this soiree, but in the end he'd stuck with his usual. Anything else would have been very strange, at least in Laz's opinion: Riv never dressed up for their drinking nights. All that was different today was the leather jacket currently folded neatly on the bench beside his coiled ribbon, in case it was colder outside when they left.

As soon as Laz was spotted entering the pub, Rivener gave a sharp whistle and waved from the booth, grinning. "Hope you don't mind a booth today, and hope you don't mind an extra guest: Remember how I told you I might invite Melisande along someday? Well she is supposed to show up this evening. Is that alright?" He knew he was putting the Incubus on the spot a little bit, but surely Lazarus wouldn't mind: he was a good guy.

Fashionably late would have been just like Melisande. Truly late was not. Her wings were still ruffled when she arrived, one curl caught in the corner of her mouth. She pulled it free with the curve of her smallest finger, and paused just inside the door. The grey peacoat, a gift from Rivener, was worn low. It gathered under her wings like a shawl, since she hadn’t yet cut holes for the back. Even draped so unusually, it still complimented the rich cobalt corset she wore beneath. Pasha’s shoulders were bare except for a scattering of curls from her high pony tail, and she clutched the front of grey wool coat closed with one hand over her chest.

It took her as long as it had taken Lazarus to spot the booth Rivener had chosen. The moment she noticed the two Sigels, though, her courage flickered. Before she realized what was happening, the brass handle of the pub door bumped her in the small of the back. Old fears were hard to leave behind, and though Lazarus had always been kind to her, and Rivener was now a…a friend…something within pleaded with her to flee.

It was only appearances, she told herself, eyes traveling over sharp wings and smooth definition and blood red-

”Rivener. Lazarus!” Melisande’s voice was warm enough that it surprised even her. Pink still rested high in her cheeks from her hurried flight as she approached the secluded booth. Before she could think too hard about it, she slid out of the grey London Fog coat. The cross of the wool belt pulled against the eyelets before swinging free.

Holding the jacket over one arm, Melisande smiled at the pair. A tarnished silver key glinted at her throat…not the antiqued brass piece Rivener had gifted her with, but something that seemed somehow older. It flashed as she tilted her head, briefly considering the seating options.

”Sorry if I’m late. I hope…it’s okay that I came?”

"I didn't want to overwhelm her with an invitation too early. It's only recently that she and I have started speaking more civilly to one another."

Funny how that reminded him that once upon a time, he was cruel to Melisande too. It wasn't on his mind at all, it was so long ago that he had almost forgotten about it. How could he? His expression fell a little as his mind wandered into the more unpleasant memories, it was something that he wasn't proud of himself.

Thankfully Rivener was distracted at the moment as the muse too entered the pub. Funny how so many things could change. They started out so differently, and now they are all drinking in a bar together, or at least are going to.

"Right." He smiled awkwardly at Rivener's remark, seeming a bit embarrassed. It was true that he had commented about the late invitation, but he wouldn't go so far as calling it 'impatient'. However, like Rivener, he couldn't help but admire Pasha's fashion sense too. She seems to have a keen sense for it.

As Rivener put away her coat, Lazarus instinctively sat a little deeper into the booth, like offering a seat for Pasha. But then his red eyes fell on Rivener and he suddenly realized, it was Rivener who invited her, of course she should sit with him. The scorpion also mentioned that they recently became friends, and the last time Lazarus saw Pasha... was not exactly a great time. "Uhm." Clearing his throat, he motioned that the lady should sit. Where however, is up to her.

Well, with all the awkwardness abound, the night started out just great.

Rivener took the coat and had it folded in short order, dropping it atop his own with a soft smile. It smelled so nice, and he kind of hoped that smell would rub off on his leather jacket. The card was a surprise and he raised both eyebrows, accepting it with one hand and staring at it for a moment. A thank-you? What for? ...Ohhh, probably for the clothes I bought for her, he told himself, smiling in realization. With a nod he folded the thing away in his own jacket, to be looked at later. "Thoughtful," he said, only now noticing that Melisande had chosen her seat. Beside Lazarus. Riv sighed softly in disappointment, but hey, it was only one evening.

Besides, like this he could feast his eyes on her all he liked. She was across the way, and what a lovely form she chose for tonight. That corset was delectable, accentuating her eyes perfectly, and her hair was beautiful as always. He might have had to look away if she'd sat with him, so Riv came to the conclusion that he much preferred this seating arrangement after all.

He downed one of his shots of vodka, getting a head start on the others. He'd learned early on during his nights with Laz that if he didn't hit the liquor hard from the get-go, the Incubus would be falling off his stool before Riv had a proper buzz. He was half-way through his second shot when Melisande mentioned Laz's taste in drinks and it took all of the Scorpion's self-control not to choke on the last mouthful, grinning. "Oh yeah, he really does. They'd be right up your alley, I'm sure. What do you call it, Lazarus? A singapore slush? Or maybe a mango sunrise? I forget." With a mischievous grin, Rivener motioned for one of the bartenders.

That's when the Sigel noticed that their little booth was the subject of quite a few stares. There weren't that many patrons yet, the palce would fill out more in an hour or so, but of the folks already here a good seventy-five percent were staring at Pasha. Riv bristled, but didn't mention anything. As long as they didn't try anything stupid, he had nothing to be angry about.

"So what can I get you boys?" the bartender, Ash, asked. He was young, mid-twenties at most, and was quite a popular man with the ladies in the pub, usually. He was trying to ply his smile at Melisande, adding a wink for good measure: "Nice to see you finally brought someone beautiful along, and beautiful she is."

"Thank you, Lazarus. That sounds perfect. I've never had a martini!" The Muse murmured her thanks to the other Sigel as the waiter made his way back across the bar. She was doubly glad that Lazarus had ordered...the only drink she knew was champagne, and Ash had made her blush with a compliment and a wink in one go.

"Do you always come to the same place? I like the...atmosphere." Pasha nodded towards the polished wood and the bits of brass glinting in the low light. "And please don't let me interrupt your usual routine. It's been a very long day...I'm happy just to relax with friends." Melisande said it so sincerely that there was no doubt she meant it. She leaned forward a bit and rested her arms on the table, crossing them lightly at the wrist. "What is your usual routine?" Pasha smiled from Lazaraus to Rivener, tilting her head.

Good! Lazarus felt relieved that he ordered something light for Melisande. He wasn't sure how heavy a drinker the muse would be, but supposed they will find out tonight.

"We've been coming here for 6 months now. What can I say, Ash is good at what he does." He chuckled softly, his memory had always been better than Rivener's. At the prompt of Lazarus's recent lives, it brought back the excitement he felt when he was on his way here. "Oh I was at a photoshoot last weekend! They did another demonic theme one for the Halloween issue of some magazine, and this smoking hawt witch with red hair tried to hit on me." The excitement was apparent on his face as he spoke. "She outright grabbed me into the changing room and tried to make out with me or something. But you know, I'm already taken and all. I rejected her and left."

Ash interjected at the moment as their drinks arrived, and Lazarus managed to mutter a word of thanks before he left. Pulling his bright red drink garnished with a pineapple slice over, he took a huge sip that drained a quarter of the cup's content before letting out a sigh of satisfaction. He could already feel the warm buzz as he chuckled. "So what about you Rivener? Did you get groped by hot chicks at your job?" It wasn't a mystery to Lazarus what Rivener does to earn all those money for his growing closet collection. There are no secrets in their drinking sessions.

Rivener's eyebrows raised. "Another one? Good for you, Laz!! You're going to have a full portfolio soon. Did they ever think of taking your horns out of the picture digitally? I bet you could do all kinds of modelling if they did that!" He grinned happily at Laz, laughing softly as the Incubus went on about a witch that had tried to molest him. For whatever good that would do, seeing as they had no lower bodies. It seemed to flatter Lazarus at any rate, and Riv snickered at the punchline. Taken was enough to turn a woman down, but only after Laz had let her corner him into a closet.

Melisande's question about being taken made Riv grin, raising an eyebrow at Laz. The Scorpion was quite curious to see how proud Laz would be of announcing his relationship. Or maybe he'd be bashful? Or just state it like a fact? That was definitely Laz's to answer, anyway, leaving Rivener free to accept the drink Pasha offered for a taste. He didn't normally like fruity concoctions, but who could pass up an opportunity to drink from the lovely muse's glass? Riv put his hand over hers to keep the glass steady and his lips touched the sugar-rimmed glass for a short sip.

...Which he nearly sprayed all over the table when Melisande asked what groping was. Riv managed to keep the drink in his mouth where it belonged, though he brought a hand front to press to his lips, eyes dancing. "S-seriously? Uh..." How someone like HER could live without knowing about groping was beyond Rivener! He cleared his throat and sat back, grinning, trying not to laugh. He wasn't mocking her, absolutely not, he was just stunned. "Groping is when someone touches you in a way you consider inappropriate, or against your will. Like if you would be standing at a bus stop and someone comes over and squeezes your-..." He pointed at her chest vaguely, doing his best not to LOOK at it. "That's groping. Vaguely sexual touching, I guess? It's hard to properly explain."

Blushing slightly, the dark Sigel drank his last triple-shot then took a sip of his tomato-flavored drink to wash it down. He could feel the faintest tickle: he'd need another shot or two later, but he should be good and drunk at about the time Laz would be. Speaking of Laz, Rivener's attention went back to the elder Raevan so he might answer the question from earlier, smirking. "You know damned well the only people groping me at work are the dumb idiots who try to get too close to my boss. And it's not so much groping as just them trying to pry my hands off them as I throw them outside. I gotta say, I like your work better than mine." He winked at Laz.

Perhaps it was the explanation, or perhaps it was the drink, but a kiss of pink settled high on Melisande's cheeks as the boys tried to explain groping. Her hand flattened protectively against her chest as Rivener motioned...fingertips tensing delicately on her pale skin. "I never...I don't..." The Muse was rarely at a loss for words, but she covered by taking a sip of her drink. Things like that happened?

She took another sip, and before she realized it, the petite drink was almost finished. Embarrassed, she set it back on the table, and tried to focus on the conversation. "Xiu?" She didn't realize who Lazarus was talking about until she said the Raevan's name herself. "Xiu!" She pronounced it differently, having only read the word before when the Sigel himself had written it. "You're..."

Again, at a loss for words. Pasha dropped her eyes to her glass and touched the rim, remembering how she'd felt when she'd seen Xiu. He wasn't her Zavier...but to Lazarus, he was. She was smiling when she looked back up, popping one sugar coated fingertip into her mouth. "You're lucky. Cheers!" Melisande lifted her glass to clink against her companions', taking the last sip before setting it carefully back down. She was warm, and finally starting to relax. Her traumatic day was suddenly seeming very far away.

"I sing somewhere else, now. Or, I did. I might not have a job anymore." Pasha made a tiny moue, a rare expression for her, and pushed the empty glass away with one finger. "It's been a strange day." Not wanting to bring down the conversation, she smiled across the table at Riv, closing her hand absently around the key she wore around her neck.

"How about you? Are you...taken?" Even asking made her want to blush, but Melisande bravely held her ground. Distantly, she could imagine Vi swooning over the counter, whether the answer was yes or no. The thought made her smile dimple just a touch.