A Message

[Tierney]

Bemused, Tierney turned his attention from Redjack to the red-haired woman, replying to her anger in his best Irish accent. "The last setta wee little folk, as I hear, were in Ireland, Miss. But, yer right, if'n I was slummin' and flirtin' I wouldnae be here, concernin' myself with Redjack and the girl he seems set on panickin'."

He half-grinned, charming and cocky as he straightened his faded coat; his clothes surely weren't in such good repair for her to think he was that high up in society, were they? "And since it seemed like ye werenae gonna say anythin'...I did."

[Redjack Ryan]

As if waking from sleep, Ryan shook his head and blinked a few times. He reached out to lay a hand on Tierney's shoulder. "Oi there let's be friends now, no need t'argue." Suddenly, it seemed as if the man's senses had returned. Lucidity shot into his eyes, and he fixed Liz with a glare that he hoped spoke what his voice did not. He couldn't very well blurt out that Valentine was walking the streets of London with these other two present.

"Thanks f'r lookin' out f'r me, mate," he grinned at Tierney. "Had few tonight, best cut me off now?" His words were contradictory to his thoughts, that there wasn't enough gin in London to drown the terror creeping up his toes that very moment. Still, though his eyes were red, they were smiling.

"I 'pologize f'r my behaviour, Miss," he gave a little bow to the blonde girl, the one who even now regarded him with fear in her eyes. He'd let his game slip far too much in these days of tribulation. If Valentine was indeed back, he was going to need all his finesse, and then some.

[Tierney]

Tierney smiled in return; examining the older man. He hated to see Redjack like this. At least when "like this" was more than just the usual rounds of drinks and drunkenness. Still, he'd been like this for some time. Tierney still had no idea exactly what was wrong, and his curiosity was quite fierce. Fierce enough for him to catch the look Redjack gave Liz and wonder if it was a berating for trying for a fight, or if it was something else. Something having to do with the message he'd gotten so upset about.

"Yeh, per'aps I'd best cut ye off." He grinned lazily at Redjack. "Canna hold yer liq'r like ye used ta."

He glanced at the red-haired woman, Lizzie...Liz, wasn't it? Now that he wasn't being sniped at, it was easier to recall her name. Well, recall Redjack drunkenly calling her name. For some reason that he couldn't put his finger on, he didn't think that he and Liz would be very friendly anytime soon.

Then his gaze shifted to the messenger as Redjack bowed and apologized to her. Poor panicked little thing. Some measure of sympathy stirred; the girl reminded him of one of his sisters. Mentally he grimaced; he didn't need sympathy. What was the world coming to?