Revolutionary War Roleplay! [CLOSED]

"Hey," André tried calling to the woman, Jane.

Jane looked up to see a man calling to her. She hesitated, then replied with a quieter, "Yes?"

He sighed quietly. "Have you got company? Come sit with me,"

Jane approached cautiously. "Hello."

He picked up his glass, swished the liquid around. "Hey." John croaked.

"I'm Jane," she said softly, trying to keep to herself as much as possible.

"John." He spoke for himself, finished his first glass. "Why are you here alone, ma'am?"

Annalise had managed to sneak in, trying to shake off the cold from the rain.

"Thinking," Jane responded slowly.

"Have a seat. Lemme order you something to eat," the rainsoaked man offered.

"No, thank you, sir," Jane replied courteously, but she did sit down.

He nodded understandingly, "Are you waiting for someone?"

"I like to think that I am," she answered with a small smile.

He laughed quietly. Without the red coat, people hated him less. It was nice to go without it in just a bishop-sleeved undershirt. "Did you come here looking for something, like me?"

(Imma change Jane to a Loyalist for reasons, you'll find out later.)

Jane blushed. "I don't know. Are you here looking for me?"

He blinked. Oh. "Oh no, I didn't–" now he was blushing. "I phrased that wrong, looking for something, like I'm looking for something?" John corrected himself. For God's sake, man. Everyone makes you go red.

Jane giggled. "Looking for something or looking for someone?"

"Something, but sometimes I wonder if my soul needs another of its own." He answered with a docile smile. The thought of the cold rain became a bearable memory now, warming up with warm light, alcohol and someone to share a candid, innocent dalliance with.

Pierre’s grip tightened on his glass with each word the redcoat spoke. Just the sound of the stupid soldier’s voice infuriated him, he couldn’t stand that accent. He was careful to keep his expression passive, emotionless, knowing that there was a time and place for conflict and this was definitely not it. The only signs of his anger were his whitening knuckles and the slight strain at the corners of his eyes, two things that would hopefully go unnoticed.

( oooo this is gonna be a fun conflict 😂 )

(Lol yeah)

Annalise walked deeper into the tavern, slipping her hand into a man's pocket, grabbing the small bag of coins she had seen him put away a moment ago. Small, merely a convenience, but enough to start tonight.

(who's pocket?)

((Random human's. I just didn't wanna die in this chat so I just had her do something.))

(it could be one of the characters', that might start a bit of action and keep you from dying in the rp)

OH SNAP BAR FIGHT)

((Sure! Who want's to be the person who got pick pocketed?))

Not it!)

(can I?)

((Yeah!))