(Untitled)

[a_lioness]

When Bar wants Alanna to do something, she usually does it without too much question. No one asks her anymore if it was her twin brother Thom who scarred Bar and Bernard, but she remembers, and she still, to this day, feels partly responsible

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[hallelujahpilot]

One pony-tailed pilot at the Bar, looking entertained.

"Anything with rum in it?" She asks.

[a_lioness]

"Yes," Alanna states firmly. "Anything with rum in it."

Why not? It seems a reasonable option. She knows from doing this a time or two in the past that it tends to be a key ingredient in mixed drinks. Not everyone drinks it straight, like pirates.

Still, she flips open the drink book and points to the recipe for a Flaming Goat.

"Like this."

Beat.

"On second thought, that one has impending disaster written all over it."

[hallelujahpilot]

Trudy cracks up.

"I think I'll just stick to some whiskey, thanks."

[a_lioness]

"Thank the Goddess," Alanna grins. "Fire and alcohol in a drink mixed by my hands might be a deadly mistake."

Stepping sideways, she grabs a glass and a bottle of whiskey, then gives Trudy a thoughtful look.

"This okay?" she asks, holding up the Jack Daniels.

[queenofmay]

"Olau is where you are from, if I remember correct?"

Oh. Right. Familiar face you might know.

[a_lioness]

"Yes, I'm-"

"Marian!"

Please do pardon Alanna, Marian, if she doesn't quite answer your question yet. She is too busy staring and smiling. It has been a long time.

[queenofmay]

A very long time.

And if she looks tired more in her blue-gray eyes than in any part of her countenance, from how easily she stands or how her shoulders are set, with his hands at her side loose, she does at least smile with complete honesty. It lightens her eyes and turns her lips more toward a curve.

It's a nice addition to a very long. . .while.

"Good evening, Alanna."

[a_lioness]

Pleasure and surprise gives way to concern, however vague, as Alanna tilts her head and really looks at Marian.

"How have you been?"

Time can take its toll, she knows.

[ever_noteful]

"Hello, Alanna.

"May I try the tea?"

[a_lioness]

"Good evening, Meg."

Alanna smiles pleasantly at the other redhead, thinking she might actually enjoy herself this evening. Wouldn't Indy be proud?

"You can," she adds slowly. "But you won't hurt my feelings if you find you'd rather have something else. It's an acquired taste."

George insists it will grow on her. She keeps trying to like it out of pure stubbornness.

[ever_noteful]

"Well," Meg says slowly, "maybe I'll acquire it.

"And maybe I'll shortly be asking you to change to my usual mint.

"How are you?"

[a_lioness]

"You might, at that."

Doubtful expression directed at the tea she's preparing, Alanna thinks a moment before replying.

(She is capable of it, every now and then.)

"I'm well," she says. It's a bit surprised sounding. "Quite. My daughter smiled at me earlier and I am no longer wearing my brother-in-all-but-blood's body. I shan't complain. And you?"

[tavar_of_alera]

Tavi ambles over, books on tactics and on furycrafting tucked under his arm. His split lip is healing, finally, and the scratches are gone. His black eye has almost completely disappeared, too, except for a small hint of color.

Her announcement makes him bite his lip to hide his amusement. Somehow he guesses Alanna might not be intended for bartending as a rule.

Tilting his head at the board, he asks, "Hello, Sir Alanna. What's the tea like?"

[a_lioness]

Not as a rule, no. Indy had tried his best to train her, but her natural stubbornness and reluctance to make polite small talk with people who annoy her had him throwing up his hands more than once.

Luckily, she likes Tavi and doesn't consider anything they say to each other small or insignificant.

"Strong," she answers easily, tossing him a smirk. "A bit bitter and earthy. George swears by it."

[tavar_of_alera]

Even if they're only talking in what passes for light conversation for him, there's probably something important in it, more often than not.

And anyway, she had him at "strong."

"Thank the furies," he says fervently. "I could use it." His expression is mildly aggrieved. He climbs up onto a bar stool and lays his books on the counter. "And if there's some bread, I could use that too."

He's had a bloody long day.

[a_lioness]

"Of course. Butter? Jam?"

As she asks, Alanna idly flicks open one of the books and scans a page before finding his eyes again.

"Working hard, aren't you. Why don't I throw in a stew?"

[a_lioness]

Eyes flicking sideways, Alanna makes a face and slowly, deliberately turns her gaze upon the rafters above.

"That voice is so much more pleasant when I'm not hearing it in my own head," she tells no one in particular.

[a_lioness]

Alanna still isn't looking at him.

"Right. We aren't to speak of it."

Beat.

"Especially the lake."

Her eye twitches.