January 22, 2007

IC Time: 5pmish
Location: The Smoke House, then Edge of Forks near the forest
Synopsis: Abbey and Cillian meet for the first time
Submitted by: Abbey Wallace and Cillian Tighernach

He hasn't been in the area too long, but already he's sampling the local brews. The place that Cillian had found was not too far out of the way, but it was just the same as all bars and pubs across Europe and the world. Dark, hazy, and a dull murmur of voices. He sat himself on a stool, joyously ordered a pint of rich, amber brew, and began to drink. The man struck up some lilting conversation with the few nearby, his voice soft but strong, rolling off his tongue in that easy manner of all Irish blokes that ever lived. His bright smile was infectious, and his bawdy jokes even got some people laughing. "Alrigh'!" Cillian chuckles after a long draught, pointing at the barman, "Y'need a livelier crew, lad! 'Ow's about an' ol' sailor song t'get your blood pumpin'?" A couple of the more interested patrons urge him on, others ignore him, but Cillian strikes a beat on the bar with his hand and busts out in a deep, sultry roar, "In the year of our Lord 1806 we set sail from the old quay of Cork! And we were sailing away with the cargo of bricks for the grand city hall in NEw York!"

Just another lovely evening in Forks.. Right.. If you can deal with the rain that is quickly turning to ice out on the cold road. The door is pushed open as Abbey makes her way into the bar, pausing long enough to give her jacket a shake which sends water flying on a few that just happen to be sitting too close to the door. The evil looks she gets from a pair are just ignored while she moves onwards towards the bar. Her gaze drifting over the free seat and she takes over one right as the 'song' starts up. A hand lifts to run through her wet hair a few times as a faint mutter about the weather escapes her. Once the bartender has had time to serve the drunks at one end she if finally able to order a beer. Its now when she peers over at the one who has started the song and just watches him a few moments, the thick accent being picked up from her seat. A smirk is seen at this; the last one she met up with a familiar accent she nearly got into a fight with, but then the guy was a vampire after all. For now she merely sits and listens, and once getting her drink she takes a long sip from it.

Cillian's bright amber eyes sweep the bar just as the newest arrival makes her entrance, and as he continues into his song he signals the barman with two fingers. Another pint for him, and a second for the lady at the end even though she's just ordered herself. As his song continues, the mood seems to lighten, and even those who were soured at first, particularly those in the way of Abbey's cold entrance, seem to be tapping their toes in time with the beat he's busting out on the bar. "There was Barny McGee from the banks of the Lee, there was Hogan from county to Rome, and there was Jonnhy McGurque who was scared stiff of work and the chap from Westmeade named Malone! There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule," at this, he winks and nudges a neighbors, "And Fighting Belthrayse from Dover and your man Mick Mcann from the banks of the Ban was the skipper of the Irish Rover!"

It has been a rather long time since Abbey heard this song, her father would often sing them every night after coming home from work back in Ireland. She watches him still, her pale gaze drifting over his form slightly as something catches her attention but she merely shrugs it off. Her gaze drifts back to the bartender and she smirks slightly. Great, she just gets herre and someone is already buying her a drink.. Not that it happens often but still. Her attention drifts off from the singer though its hard to not follow the song. "The Irish Rover.." A faint chuckle escapes her at this.

The man continues to sing in that deep, rich voice, and gets a good portion of the crowd tapping along, laughing, clapping, and buying drinks. It's obvious that he's having a good time, and likes making other people have a good time, be they gorgeous women OR just some ordinary bloke. Many of the songs he knows hold a deep significance in his heart, particularly those in his native Gaelic, but the Irish Rover was always a good one to get the crowd going. After another verse, the song wraps up and Cillian holds that last note of 'Rover' and it soars out over the bar, and when he cuts the song he's greeted with a hearty applause. Having livened up the crowd, he tips his glass to the barman, proposes a toast, and drains the last of his pint and reaches for his second. He glances at Abbey, maybe longer than is comfortable… for a normal person… but he thought he saw something. Still. He glances away and strikes up conversation again with a nearby seat neighbor, laughing jovially.

Abbey is off in her own little world for a time, even during the stare down she gets from the other, which she doesn't pick up on right away. She blinks out of her daze and peers towards the man down the ways before he looks back to the ones near him. She ponders a moment head lifting a tad as she works on getting the scents from the room, which with all the smoke, booze, rain and other scents its a bit muddled on what or who is around her. With the singing done she goes on humming the tune to the Irish Rover to herself.

"Aye, I'll have another in th'works for ye', just have t'whet the ol' songbird," Cillian chuckles, patting a bar neighbor on the back as he slides from his perch, downing a few heafty gulps. He doesn't seem anywhere near inibriated, or buzzed after a pint and a half; he must handle it well, and he saunters toward the far end of the bar where Abbey had seated herself. He smiles at her and eases into the space between stools, leaning on the wooden bartop. Hearing her humming, Cillian laughs quietly. "So," he burrs, "Y'know the song?" He inhails slowly, deeply, feeling something stirring deep within him; he hasn't been in the presence of another wolf in centuries and his soul is screaming at him.

The movement is caught, but Abbey just ignores it, well up unti lthe guy is right next to her. She lifts her head slightly, pale gaze resting upon the others face and she blinks slightly before smirking. "Who doesn't know it?" She questions back, her own thick accent picked up. "I think anyone that has been to a bar knows the song don't ye thing?" It takes her a few moments before she picks up on the thick scent and a faint chuckle escapes her. "Why am I always the one to meet up with ye new guys?" New guys as in new wolves to the area, not age wise.

Cillian chuckles quietly and rubs the side of his face, scruffing that bit of stubble he can never get rid of. He leans down a little way, more to keep his words for Abbey only than to really do any major flirting; he's not drunk enough, yet <3 "Some lass' just get all th'luck, don't they? A lone wolf in town? Ah.. guess I'm not lone anymore, am I?" he laughs again and picks his head back up, downing his last half pint and twirling his glass as he sets it back down. Apparently the rumors were true; the wolves are gathering. "There's somethin' t'be said about the States," he muses, tapping his finger on his bottom lip, "I'm just not sure what it is yet." He flashes white teeth and drums an old rebel song beat on the bar with his thumbs, huming the tune with vigor. So. He's not the only wolf. Still. She smells so young.

Abbey smirks and mms faintly. "So they say." When it comes to her it tends to be bad luck though. "There's more around then some think. Would be nice to know why.." Heck she wishes she knew, and why are they all guys to? "I don't know.. The states aren’t all that great really. I rather miss home to tell you the truth." Meaning Ireland, which she hasn't seen in years. As for age she is one of the younger ones but she knows a couple that are younger than her at least. "I'm Abbey Wallace." Might as well make nice right?

He glances around the bar a few times, but as Abbey speaks he turns back to her, eyes sliding down and narrowing in thought. So, she doesn't know why, either. Mm. "The last time…" he murmurs, but stops. He doesn't want to talk about the last time there was a gathering. Two reasons: They're in public, and it was very, very painful. "Aye, well, I miss ol' Erin, surely. Maybe we should go back one day? It's… been a long… long time." Less than a century, or so, but he hasn't seen his home for almost 900 years, and he won't every again; or is unlikely to recognize it. As she introduces herself, his smile blooms and he gives her a polite nod, "Cillian Naohman Tighernach." He pauses, then laughs. "Or Cillian. Or Cilly. Or Tighe, or whatever your mind comes up with." Lord knows he's answered to many names.

Abbey watches him, curious as to why he stopped talking. Finn is older then her and his told her some things about the past of wolves an knows some of it isn't easy to deal with. Whil she wants to know, and she is curious at the moment she won't question it. "I don't think I'll be going back.." At least she is sure Finn would be against the idea, they also could not afford the trip there to start with. All of them in the pack are considered dead and that just makes it hard to get tickets an the like. "Pleasure to meet you Cillian." A soft chuckle escapes her and she grins. "Well I'm sure that I could come up with a few things to call ye if given the chance." This said with a playful tone.

Laughing good naturedly, Cillian nods his assent at her, "Aye, y'might just come up with a few new ones, but y'might be hard to find an original one." He winks before leaning over the bar and ordering something a little harder than just beer. Just one glass; after all, he doesn't know what kind of drink Abbey really enjoys. With his short glass briming with sharp, acrid hard liquor, Cillian swirls the drink playful and downs half of it, shivering as the alcohol burns its way down his throat. It takes a /lot/ to do that to him and he loves every minute of it. "If it wasn't so foul weather I'd ask ye' to go for a walk, but… y'just got in all warm'n'cozy an' I won' put ye' through that." Still, he'd like to talk a little more in depth. That feeling in the back of his mind is still screaming at him and he leans down a little and whispers in Abbey's ear, "Y'have a presence around ye', Alpha, an' I've not seen that for a long time." This close, she smells of wolf, but different than /she/ did ages ago…

Abbey chuckles at this, his amusing and interesting, and new for some reason its really caught her attention. Though she was like this with Brian too so she isn't sure if its her or just the fact that his new or the fact that there is something else about him. "As if the cold really could bother us anymore." Even though she came in the fromm the ran she isn't cold at all. While he goes about talking she works on her drink, the alpha bit catches her attention and she glances to him curiously. "How did ye know that?" Its not often that she seems a bit confused, though at the moment she is to a degree. "We can go on that walk.. If yer interested." An now she is curious about how he knew that.

He thought that might grab her attention, and he clinks his glass against hers and polishes it off. "Aye," he murmurs, pulling out his wallet and slapping down the change for both their drinks, and a little extra, and pushes away from the bar. Cillian saunters back to his spot, gives a friendly nod to his previous bench companions, promises an encoure later, and shrugs into his coat. Under that he'd had a battered looking satchel that he slings over his shoulder and moves back toward Abbey, and eventually the door. Outside, the cold wraps around him, but it feels almost refreshing from the stifle air of the bar. "Ah," he muses as he waits, glancing across the sidewalks, wondering which way to go, "What I wouldn't give for a real pub…"

Abbey watches him a moment and just smirks as she finishes her drink and stands up moving towards the door to wait on him. During the wait she can only wonder how he would know such a thing. She pushes the door open once his on his way again and holds it open long enough for him to come out into the lovely Forks weather. A folded up baseball type hat is pulled from her jacket and she gives it a smack against a leg before pulling it down over her head in some attempt to keep the rain out of her hair. Even though the cold doesn't bother her wet hair does. "I barely remember them.. Left Ireland when I was a kid." This said while her hands settle into the pockets of her jacket as they move down the street. While he doesn't know where they are going she has more of an idea and she is heading on towards more quiet and area where people don't normally wander through. "How did you know that I'm a Alpha?" Its not that like she goes around flaunting it around new wolves after all.

Ah, the inevitable question. Cillian turns his feet and follows along next to Abbey, his bright eyes standing out against the cold, dark night; he doesn't know his way around, but trusts that Abbey won't lead him into an alley, stab him, and take his wallet. Call it a hunch. For a moment, the rain reminds him of his home, but he soon realizes that it's a dirty, city rain, not the same as the highlands, and he blinks a few drops from his eyes. "Well," he ponders, running his hand back through his hair and using the rain to slick it from his eyes, "Y'learn t'look for things. I've only ever had one Alpha, and she had something about her that y'couldn't ignore…" Cillian almost sighs when he thinks on Gabriella, but refrains. He watches her, a smile toying with his mouth, before he gestures with an arm out into the rain. "Take a guess, Abigail. A wild guess." He turns around, walking backwards, facing her. "I'll guess, too. My age. Your age." Cillian grins. "I want to see how observant y'are." SMILE.

Abbey tilts her head, her pale gaze watching him a few moment. Her stab him? Not likely, well unless he pissed her off and then it wouldn't be stabbing more like a mauling in her case. She smirks a bit. "Right.. All I did was come into the bar and sit down, not to sure how that shows anything." As he starts walking backwards she stops letting the rain fall upon her while just smirking at the question and she takes in a breath checking the scents. "Your older than anyone I've meet before." There's Brian and Finn, and Luc seems a bit on the older side but she isn't sure about him fully. "You talked about pain back at the bar, did you mean the wars?" There is a pause. "An its Abbey.. My mother was the only one allowed to call me Abigail." An that has been a while, being called her old name would drag up to much about her past and that's behind her. Mostly at least.

"Very well, Abbey," he offers with a polite nod, and mimes a tip of his cap; apparently he left it somewhere else. It'd help, what with the rain and all. "The war?" he murmurs, turning back up the walk and beckoning her to keep her feet moving. After all, they /are/ out in the middle of the city. Never know who's lisetning. "Aye, I've seen many wars. Which one do y'mean?" He knows she means THE war. The war were he lost Gabriella, and everyone else. "The Irish War of Independnce, World War II… or… I?" he makes an effort of pondering this, maybe plays it up a little too much, but eventually sighs. "Aye. /The/ War. Our war," he whispers. "I was there." But he manages a weak smile, "Still… I was…" Cillian quickly adds a count on his fingers, "Already… three, almost four hundred then." A long pause before he turns back to her. "So, you're a little off, I'd say."

Abbey watches him curiously as she starts to follow along after him once more, as for who might be around she doesn't seem that worried. Well it is raining like crazy who in there right might would be around /here/? As he talks about the different wars she can only wonder who old he really is now. "If that's the case.. You sound older then Brian." A faint heh escapes her. "Close to a hundred give or take a few years." She's quiet for a few moments as they walk along moving further from town and more towards the edge where the forest starts. "Finn didn't think many of you survived after the war.." So much for Finn's idea.

Cillian takes a deep breath as they move away from the city, hooking a thumb underneath the strap of his bag, the other burying deep in his pocket. He whips a few strands of hair away from his face, and grins lightly at Abbey. "Just a pup, Alpha," he chides gently, though he means no harm by it. He shrugs lightly, taking another breath, scenting the wet pine, and grass, and earth, "I lost my Alpha that day, and many others," he muses whistfully, "But her last order to me was to run. So I ran. Made it back home, and hid. Hid for a long, long time. I don't know if anyone else survived that day, but I had to believe they could." He continues moving, humming an old tune. "I haven't run with a pack for centuries. An' I felt somethin' moving again, just like that day… So. Here I am." Shrug.

Abbey looks amused as she hears him call her a pup. "Ya ya.. I've heard that before." She says with what seems like an amused tone. "Only female in the pack so I got lucky I suppose." This said as she smirks. Not that any of the guys would try to take her on, she has been known to fight dirty after all. "I've heard that before.." From Brian and look his in the pack now. She ponders a moment seems to recall another wolf that ran with a pack and doesn't anymore. "So.. Now that your here what are you planning on doing?" This questioned while she moves a bit closer, curious to what his answer might be.

"Not really sure," he replies quietly, honestly, folding his arms across his chest, tilting his head as he watches Abbey come closer. Cillian shudders once, a large droplet of rain sliding down his neck, but when he breathes out a cloud of steam puffs from his mouth. "It's so strange, but I can feel the traces of the Pack around me, not just you, but anyone that happens to be nearby. I haven't felt that in centuries, not since before the War… It's like a feather against my mind, so gentle, so inviting. Yet I know what happened the last time we all gathered as One." Cillian looks rather solemnly at her, and wipes a raindrop from his cheek. "But you, Alpha? What are you planning to do?"

Abbey humms faintly while her gaze drifts over the area before turning her attention back towards him. She is curious as he goes on talking about the area. "Perhaps its something special about you.. Some wolves are suppose to have abilites or something like that." She has a few herself so this is the only reason that she knows about it. "I don't think anything like that would happen again. While there more of us here then have been around for a while we all arn't the same." Meaning the tribe of wolves down the way. "Me?.. Not to sure other then stay alive somehow." She shrugs a moment while lifting her head so she can look at the cloudy sky. "An keep my family safe as well." There is a pause at this and she lifts a hand to rub faintly against the side of her neck where scars can be seen. "There are many vampires around here though, everyday more seem to appear." Many things are on her mind, and when Finn isn't around she worries even more.

Cillian watches Abbey silently, stoicly, standing in the rain and getting more and more soaked by the minute, though he doesn't seem to care. He puts the collar of his coat up, though it's already a little too late for that, and steps a little closer as she begins to talk about the forbidden ones. His eyes that on a dark cast to them, and he lifts his hand and touches his finger to her mouth. "Y'aren't t'mention them," Cillian murmurs lowly, a look of unbidden rage hiding behind his normally gentle eyes. "You tell this… Finn, was it?" he asks, blinking away more rain as it begins to pour harder and harder, "You tell him that the Children are returning." After a long pause, he shoves his hands in his pockets, "And for God's sake keep yer eyes open."

Abbey glances back to Cillian as she picks up on the air around them that went from calm to something not so calm. She is quiet as he talks, even more quiet at the touch but she doesn't move away from him. Her pale gaze rests on his picking up the anger and the rage without a problem. "I do a lot of things that I'm not suppose to." This is her answer to the cold ones, a faint smirk seen for a moment. "We know they are returning, we only hope that so many here don't gets others attention on the area." She says softly, meaning the Volturi. A faint smile is seen. "I always do.." Which isn't a lie she just tends to find lots of trouble because of it.

The dangerous glimmer behind his eyes fades slightly at her comment, and he can't help it as his lips curl into a slight grin. "Ah, I knew a Lady just like you," he manages to chuckle, and he steps back slightly. Afterall, a gentleman doesn't hover over a lady. So, the Cold Ones are returning, too? He'll have to stick around then and give a few of them a piece of his teeth… and he'll need to find a flamethrower, or something. Cillian takes a slow breath and lets it out with an explosive puff of steam, like a cloud exploded, and his eyes trail longingly to the trees. The memory of a pack hunt through the forests untouched by man is something he'll never have again, but maybe if he sticks around he'll be in for a few surprises. "Well, Alpha," Cillian says softly, musing, "I hope to see your pack someday.. At least I know what bar yer'at."

Abbey chuckles softly. "I think if there is another like me around then we're in trouble." This said with a playful tone. Her gaze drifts towards the forest watching the trees before her eeys close a moment, even with the rain and cool weather it isn't all that bad out here. "You stick around long enough and your meet them." Her eyes open while she looks back to him. "If you ever need anything let me know alright?" An there she goes being helpful. "Brain works at the bar at nights, I get a few shifts in here and there."

"Aye," Cillian nods. He'll stick around, no question. There's obviously something he has to do here, but he's not sure just what it is, yet. Having been in the city for a while, the forest seems to be drawing him, even in the dark, even in the rain… The man's eyes turn back to Abigail, and though he'd love to call her by her proper name, he won't. There is that presence around her, that scent, that feeling of power, the with Abbey there's something mixed in behind it. Perhaps he's just been on his own for too long, but he'll have to stick close and meet these wolves; Brian, Finn. He breathes out in the dark, eyes glistening as he watches her, and reiterates, "Aye, I will."

"There are two others, Kai and Shael.." Abbey hasn't seen them for a while either, lately it has just been she and Brian, some pack. A slight smirk is seen. "If you run into them tell them to call me." She understands why Shael has been so distance but Kai that's a different story. "The forest is rather nice during and after the rain. Makes you seem like there is nothing else around." Finn kept she and Kai out in the wild for a long time, and while she doesn't mind city life being out in the forest is where she would rather be at times. "An, not many humans wander through it with the weather at the moment either." Seems she picked up on something from him and the forest.

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