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Jack nearly stumbled through the door, Aster crowding close behind him like an over-grown pup. His loud, lighthearted laughter drew they eyes of those nearest the door. No, the soldier was not drunk before even reaching the pub, though it may well look like it. Rather, he and his Guardian had been up to a bit of mischief, barely escaping without being caught. Running with Astrophel was like being a child all over again...except he was not certain that even Kit had led him into as much mischief as the Guardian was wont to do. Or perhaps he had, and it was simply a different sort of fun.

"The look on his face!" he crowed, earning a laughing snort from the buck. He slung an arm over the Guardian's neck and took a moment to catch his breath before scanning the room.

Ah. Just there. He waved at a serving woman - she knew what he liked - and made his way over to the little table by the fireplace. He was practically buzzing with the strength of his mirth, but Jack had managed to subdue himself enough as not to be sniggering anymore. "Desmond!" he cried, clasping his friend's arm. "So glad you could make it. I do hope you don't plan to hide away over here all night."

Releasing the man, he spotted a certain doe and offered her a flamboyant bow. "Milady Liadain." He straightened only to sprawl in the chair closest to him.

Desmond rubbed the back of his neck as he took a drink from the mug that had been left on the table. "Well, I....kind of...was," he said, voice drifting away into inaudibility on the last word. Before he could open his mouth to say anything else, Liadain snorted at him for attempting to interrupt and turned her head towards Jack. She liked this man and his buck; Astrophel had played with her during the Masquerade when she had been so much smaller. Her ears flickered happily and she leaned forward to nibble on Jack's sleeve before she turned her attention to Astrophel. Desmond frowned when she actually rose to her feet to go great the buck.

"She's happier to see you two then she is to see me most days," he remarked, offering his rough hand to shake the other man's. "Good to see you again, sir. I was starting to think this, uh, meeting would never happen." He waved a hand at the barmaid and she came over with more mugs, setting one before Jack with a shy smile and flirtatious eyes.

"How have you been since the Masque?" he asked, but moments later, something caught his attention and he stared past Jack at the pale, almost ethereal doe heading right for their table, a rather large, jolly looking man in tow with a greeting already on his lips.

"Uh, good evening to you, sir! It's...no trouble...at all..." He stared in disbelief as the pale doe went right up to one of the mugs and began drinking the liquid within with gusto. "Um...Well then."

"S'kind of you to ask. Don't mind if I do," Ollie said readily, scooting into an empty chair while casually pulling the mug out from under Taxes' nose with some protest from the doe. "Two more o' these if y'please," he told the barmaid, one for himself and one to replace the one that Taxes had all but inhaled.

"S'what you get, raising a Guardian on a ship with nobody but sailors to keep 'er company," he added with a grin when he noticed the expression on Desmond's face. "Takes right to a good drink, she does, and I'll be damned if she doesn't like the expensive stuff. Made off with a bottle o' champagne once, she did, right under the cap'n nose!" An appreciative laugh bubbled up and Ollie gave Taxes an affectionate scratch as she nosed at his elbow. The filched champagne had not gone entirely to the doe of course, which was perhaps why Ollie was so quick to forgive the theft. Much of the crew had taken it in turns, though many had decided that they preferred rum. But none of the men could say that they hadn't appreciated the opportunity to try something so far above their class.

"Ollie," he added, as if suddenly remembering his manners. "Ollie Tiller."

"Jack Blackthorn," he replied, shaking the man's hand and naming each of his companions in turn - Guardians and all. "She's just a friendly lady, is all," he said, no more perturbed by Liadan's behavior than he had been by Taxes'. Of course, it wasn't his person space that was being invaded.

"You know, I once knew a horse with a fondness for whiskey. It was all well and good until he got hold of a barrel full overnight. Could barely walk straight the next morning and then he fell asleep in the middle of maneuvers. His rider, poor sod, couldn't wake the beast up and had to wait there for hours while he slept it off. He'll never live that down."

If the story was true, who could say? But it certainly sounded genuine coming from Jack.

Desmond couldn't help but laugh, even if he didn't believe Jack's story for an instant. His fellow soldiers had always bandied about drinking stories when off-duty, and he'd heard some fine ones indeed.

When Taxes nudged her in the back, Liadain gave her Chosen such a triumphant, haughty look that one would think she'd just won a medal of some kind. Whipping around, the pale, gray-touched doe sniffed at Taxes before wiggling her tail and bounding away across the floor, a clear invitation for play.

Ollie's story had him chuckling as well, and for the first time in quite a long time, Desmond felt relaxed. He lifted his mug and sat back a little more loosely in his chair. "You know, you'd think people would be a little more perturbed by very large deer running past them in a tavern, but these folks seem to be taking it quite well."

Until they break something.

Ollie chuckled. "And don't they know it, too," he said, grinning because he himself had had enough experiences with drinks and women to know that Jack was right.

The sailor watched as the three Guardians wove their wave strategically between the chairs and tables, earning themselves a few looks but going largely unbothered. Within moments, there was a short scream of surprise as Taxes, as though reading Desmond's mind, swung her hindquarters too far out of a turn and sent the glass flying out of a carefully-dressed woman's hands.

Uh-oh, Ollie thought with amusement as Taxes gleefully projected to him an image of the woman's recovering look of shock and scampered on her way. "Sorry!" He called out above the din, but then a thoughtful look crossed his face and he looked at his two companions. "Well lookit, lads, as fine gen'lemen, we ought t'go apologize to the lady face t'face." He gave them both a conspiratorial wink and pushed his chair back.

Jack shared Ollie's grin and pushed back his own chair. Some ladies might be intimidated by a pack of men converging on her regardless of their intentions, but this one looked to be made of sterner stuff. As such, he had no qualms about joining Ollie.

"Nonsense," he told Desmond, brushing aside the protest as he slung an arm around the reluctant man's shoulders and all but dragged him out of his chair. "It's only good manners. You wouldn't want to disappoint a lady, would you?" Besides, he had promised to show Desmond a good time. Part of that was a good flirtation.