The Wanderers' Way

Rose chose not to dwell on such, however. A shiver had quaked up her spine and she wanted nothing to do with the idea of it. Shaking her head, she began sorting her belongings between things that she could sell and those that she might still be able to make use of. "Does everyone know I'm here or just the people that saw you bring me in...?" Word must certainly travel fast around here, but that was under the assumption that the people around the Port were the gossiping type.

"People know someone was brought in. I covered you pretty quick after I figured out who you were and where you were from. Guardsmen didn't even get a good look at you or your clothes." He said, turning her back on him and starting to rummage through the dresser beside him. "C'mon, I know I keep one in ever- Aha!" He said with triumph, producing a bottle of rum, prying it open with his teeth.

Her eyes went from him, to the bottle, to her bag. She had a plethora of options before her. Despite her recent recovery from dehydration, however, the bottle was looking appealing. "So, what's the catch?" She asked, eyeing him with just the slightest note of distrust. Hell, if he wanted her body then she cared not; sex was a tool to her. Still, for all she'd heard of Port Nowhere, her circumstances were sounding too good to be true.

"Catch?" He asked, spitting the cork into a corner and taking a long swig of the rum. "There's no catch here. Only people playing with catches are from Euno, like yourself, or the fisherman. Those of us here, we came here so we wouldn't have to deal with catches. So that if someone wanted something from us, they'd tell us. So that the only reason we'd spill sweat or blood is for a reason we believed in."

She didn't much seem to like or accept his answer, in part because it was so contrary to what she was accustomed to. Hell, she was a bard and an assassin to boot; distrust was merely in her nature. Too lazy to stand, she crawled over to join him, sitting across from him and holding her hand out for the bottle.

He offered it without pause or care, leaning back against the dresser and studying her.

Rosaline didn't have so much as a breath before the bottle met her lips. She tipped both it and her head back as she took a long, easy swig, swallowing it down with something akin to a moan before handing it back to him. Closing her eyes, she relaxed slightly, thinking to herself.

He smiled just a bit, raising the bottle in toast to her. "Alcohol, the universal uniter." He murmured, before taking a swig.

"Tends to be." She agreed, opening her eyes to look at him. "So, are you having me believe that you're helping me is... Selfless? I owe you nothing in return?"

"I know what it's like to come here, a stranger, alone and with next to nothing... Harder when you're not a kid." He said, offering her the bottle again. "Call it whatever you want, owe me what you think I deserve. S'far as I'm concerned, I've no ledger to settle with you."

She took the bottle gratefully, tipping it back once more and swigging it greedily this time. Handing it back, she wiped her mouth with the loose sleeve, ignoring the discoloration it left behind. "Do you share all your rum with everyone you keep up here, pirate?"

"Share my rum with whoever looks like they need my rum." He said simply, shrugging at what he perceived as her attempts to upset him.

She laughed softly, mildly amused by his response. "And what makes you think alcohol is to be my new best friend?"

He shrugged. "It was mine."

She looked at him in a manner that silently said, 'Really?' Shaking her head, she leaned forward for the bottle, ignoring the indescreation of her attire as she sought the label for the bottle.

The label was simple, pure white with red lettering. Port Nowhere's Finest: Rum-Runners Pride "Local brew. Not bad, not as good as some of the whiskey the captain steals from Kiran or Eunian yachts."

Rose nodded, laughing a bit to herself before taking a long swig and holding it to her chest. She leaned towards him, a cocky grin on her face. "Take it back." She challenged.

He blinked a few times, looking down at her. In what seemed like an instant, he had her pushed down onto her back on the bed...and the rum started pouring onto her clothes.

Her body arched at the sudden contact with the liquid, which spilled along cleavage and fabric alike, staining them in equal measure. She smirked slightly, clearly amused as she pursed her lips. "Now, there's a mess to clean up..." She taunted.

He didn't seem to mind this new task, sticking his tongue out and very unabashedly running it up from to the top of her cleavage to her neck.

Her head tilted back leisurely as she closed her eyes, sighing. Only slightly out of her control, her hips and back raised with his gesture, her hands limp beneath his grasp.

Grey licked and suckled and skin and clothing alike, well aware that this had moved on from just a simple game of 'grab the beer'.

Rose was more of the quiet type of lover, soft gasps and sighs escaping her as he moved along her. Her body moved only slightly beneath his touch. She neither struggled nor writhed.

When he found there was no more left to do, he started to tug at her dress, aiming to pull it off and bare as much of her as he could. His eyes met hers, seeking silent permission.

She met his gaze with a smirk, a shrug, and a challenge.