/... But slowly her breathing slowed, and she let herself sink to the ground. She rested her head against the cool white of the basin and waited for her heart to at least try and return to normal. When it did, she didn't move for a long time. And when she did, she dressed. She didn't care whether te clothes she picked up were clean or not, only that they covered her skin. She brushed her hair, but only out of old habit. She laced her boots, and grabbed her purse, and descended te stairs outside her room to the tavern.
Dark and gloomy and perfectly suiting her mood, the Smuggler's Haunt was exactly the sort of place she would have stayed with Felix when their rent was overdue, only three hundred miles away in a tiny coast town in the South East of England. If she remembered correctly, it was called Brixham.
Or Paignton.
Or maybe that was the neighbouring town... She didn't know, and she didn't care. All that she knew was that she had been in both towns at some point in the last month, and that the alcohol at this place was cheaper.
The place was also empty at the present time, an asset that had already extended her stay by two days. The pet parrot of the owner of the Haunt flew over to her shoulder when she sat in the alcove table she had claimed as hers a week ago, nd sat there with his claws digging in to her skin.
"Crackers!" It squawked after the word like it always did, and Rori shrugged her shoulder in the hope the bird would fly away. It never did. The bird cursed loudly, a word that even Lacey would have winced at, and pecked at her ear, screeching "Crackers! Crackers!" all the while. A serving boy bustled over and shooed at the bird, replying to its curses and insults in kind until it flew away.
"Sorry about Kevin," the boy said, "He's a bit temperamental."
"Whiskey."
"Comingrightup."
The exchange felt rehearsed now, over done. They had said te same things to each other every day - in fact, every time Rori sat down to drunk. And considering the date, she'd been coming I to the main therm at all times of day and night this week. She was unsurprised when a glance at the clock told her it quarter past four in the morning. The serving boy - Leo? Alex? Kit? She wasn't sure - brought her a bottle of whiskey and a tumbler. He knew by now she was just going to keep calling him back until she'd drunk the whole thing. He was the first persons who just stared charging her by the bottle.
Dark and gloomy and perfectly suiting her mood, the Smuggler's Haunt was exactly the sort of place she would have stayed with Felix when their rent was overdue, only three hundred miles away in a tiny coast town in the South East of England. If she remembered correctly, it was called Brixham.
Or Paignton.
Or maybe that was the neighbouring town... She didn't know, and she didn't care. All that she knew was that she had been in both towns at some point in the last month, and that the alcohol at this place was cheaper.
The place was also empty at the present time, an asset that had already extended her stay by two days. The pet parrot of the owner of the Haunt flew over to her shoulder when she sat in the alcove table she had claimed as hers a week ago, nd sat there with his claws digging in to her skin.
"Crackers!" It squawked after the word like it always did, and Rori shrugged her shoulder in the hope the bird would fly away. It never did. The bird cursed loudly, a word that even Lacey would have winced at, and pecked at her ear, screeching "Crackers! Crackers!" all the while. A serving boy bustled over and shooed at the bird, replying to its curses and insults in kind until it flew away.
"Sorry about Kevin," the boy said, "He's a bit temperamental."
"Whiskey."
"Comingrightup."
The exchange felt rehearsed now, over done. They had said te same things to each other every day - in fact, every time Rori sat down to drunk. And considering the date, she'd been coming I to the main therm at all times of day and night this week. She was unsurprised when a glance at the clock told her it quarter past four in the morning. The serving boy - Leo? Alex? Kit? She wasn't sure - brought her a bottle of whiskey and a tumbler. He knew by now she was just going to keep calling him back until she'd drunk the whole thing. He was the first persons who just stared charging her by the bottle.
