forum Revolutionary War Roleplay! [CLOSED]

Started December 04, 2018 by @KalamariCakes

tune

"Well, in the bedroom, for one." He smirked coyly.

The tavern welcomed them with warm air smelling of whiskey and mead. Bailey ran his fingers through his hair—he'd been here many times before. He frequented this tavern particularly, George's coming in at a close second.

"Commander Bailey! Excellent to see you!" The emphatic Quaker—who owned the tavern—called out. As most Quakers did, he wore a nonconscpicuous grey coat with dull black shoes; no flashy buckles.

"Not a commander anymore, Mr. Hawsworth. Just living the life," he dipped his head curteously.

George lingered behind Bailey, his shy nature, which had been less prominent recently, taking over.

"I see you brought in a friend?" Mr. Hawsworth chirped, "Can I get you two a drink?"

"His name's George. I'll have a raspberry brandy,"

"Nice to meet you," George said quietly, then cleared his throat. "I'll, uh, have the same as him, please."

"Yessirs," the Quaker dipped his head and scuttled off. Bailey sat down at a round wooden table.

George joined him, unsure what to say.

"Do you want to play some chess?" Bailey offered.

"Sure," he agreed, running a hand through his hair and shaking out the stray snowflakes. "I haven't played in a while, so you'll probably win."

He snatched a board from an empty table, "Black or white?"

"White," he answered, nostalgia washing over him. "I used to play with my grandad…." he murmured, more to himself than to Bailey.

"Mm." Baikey acknowledged.

"Well, in the bedroom, for one." He smirked coyly.

She returned his expression. "Are you suggesting something, Mr. André?"

"Do you play a lot?" he asked, rubbing at the nape of his neck.

"No," Bailey admitted with a dry laugh.

"Well, in the bedroom, for one." He smirked coyly.

She returned his expression. "Are you suggesting something, Mr. André?"

"Well, we're wed now. Who's to say alk comments aren't suggestions?" He teased.

"No," Bailey admitted with a dry laugh.

"Me neither. Well, may the best man win, I guess."

"Best man," he agreed with a nod.

Yes)

When they’re at home?)

Sure!)

George sank into an armchair, smiling. “I will beat you next time, just so you know.”

Bailey was getting progressively tipsy– and with it, more impulsive. "Bet. Bet! You can't beat me. I bet my left ear," he giggled.

George chuckled. “How much did you drink, exactly?”
(Ooh what if drunk Bailey kisses George?)

Shhhhh ;) )

"Just– just nuff for me!" He retorted playfully, picking up a pawn to swing around valiantly.

(XD)

George shook his head, amused. “Sit down, Bailey.”

"Youu sit down, fiendish sir!" He cried dramatically.

(He’s killing me 😂)

“I am sitting,” he laughed, “Come here…”

(chants
sit on his lap, sit on his lap)

He sauntered over, looking like he was walking on stilts the way the drunk man swayed. Among the other drunk patrons, Bailey was free to act crassly without drawing much attention. He bent in front of George and picked up his hand, put the wooden pawn in George's palm. "Take care of it," he spoke in a drunk whisper, "It's insumamontibstantially.. special," he misspoke terribly.

“It’s what?” George tilted his head and gave another perplexed chuckle, closing his fingers above the pawn.