Theory of Chaos...according to Casey {Ilani}

[Casey Callahan]

That wasn’t your usual Irish Pub, but the music was good, the girls were easy on the eyes and the whiskey was bloody fine. So it was a too good of a combination for Casey to simply pass up, what else besides getting drunk of his ass could he hope for after a long day’s work? Sit in front of a TV and pop a frozen dinner in the microwave? Not blood likely! It was night time, and if there was a drink to be had, a fight to be had and a set of lips to be kissed, he wouldn’t stand idly.

As he tossed down yet another whiskey shot like it was water and his heart warmed up to the sound of the music, a surly group of bikers that had just entered the bar shoved him aside, rudely ending the loud conversation he was having with of the lovely bar’s patrons.

“Take a hike Irishman, you’re on our way,” they said and ignored him like he wasn’t even there. Well, daddy Callahan hadn’t raised a wimp for a son, he was a hot blooded Irishman and wouldn’t bow down to anyone.

Without a second thought, he pushed through the surly bikers and hopped on top of the bar with a fearless and defiant look on his eyes. Oh how he loved this, to ruffle the feathers so to speak, look any man in the eyes and tell him to kiss his Irish arse.

Ignoring the angry looks from the bikers, he coolly leaned down to pick a whiskey shot and downed it before tossing the glass over his shoulder and grinning at the sound of shattering glass. At that scene, the music silenced and all eyes turned to the defiant man standing on top of the bar.

And with a wicked grin, the Irishman started to riverdance and sing loudly.

“Weeeell bugger off, you bastards bugger off!
Bugger off, you bastards bugger off!
Like a herd of bloody swine that refuse to leave the trough
You'll get no more this evening so you bastards bugger off

Well you've been a lovely audience, but oh the time does pass.
So don't you all be lettin' the door hit you in the ass.
You've been a splendid audience, but enough is enough.
We'd take it very kindly if you'd all just bugger off!

So bugger off, you bastards bugger off!
Bugger off, you bastards bugger off!
Like a herd of bloody swine that refuse to leave the trough
You'll get no more this evening so you bastards bugger off

Here's to all the batenders and waitresses who've been servin you your beers,
and puttin up with your knoxious breath and your stupid drunken leers.
so leave your money on the table when you go,
tomorrow you'll have a sorry head and nothin left to show

So bugger off, you bastards bugger off!
Bugger off, you bastards bugger off!
Like a herd of bloody swine that refuse to leave the trough
You'll get no more this evening so you bastards bugger off

Here's to all the lovely ladies who might be waitin for the band,
and thinkin one of them might make a charmin one night stand.
Please don't be offended girls this song is not for you.
we'll be happy to oblige you when this nasty job is through.

So bugger off, you bastards bugger off!
Bugger off, you bastards bugger off!
Like a herd of bloody swine that refuse to leave the trough
You'll get no more this evening so you bastards bugger off

So you've been promising the ladies a night of lovin bliss,
but truth be told your far to drunk to stand up straight and piss.
So give it up you lousy sods you'll not be gettin laid.
and the sooner that you're out the door the sooner we'll get paid.

So bugger off, you bastards bugger off!
Bugger off, you bastards bugger off!
Like a herd of bloody swine that refuse to leave the trough
You'll get no more this evening so you bastards bugger off

So bugger off, you bastards bugger off!
Bugger off, you bastards bugger off!
Like a herd of fucking swine that refuse to leave the trough
You'll get no more this evening so you bastards bugger off”

[Ilani Moonblood ♬]

“Ilani,”

The voice floated in the air around her, and she scrunched her nose, burrowing face into the soft leather of her favorite office chair. She was sitting on a beach with the sun shining down on her face. A half naked cabana boy who looked a lot like that Calvin Klein underwear model was serving her some fruity drink, a come-hither twinkle in his eye…

“Ilani,”

And the sea water was lapping at her toes. Birds sang in the distance while a warm wind danced across her skin. Then, a real nicely muscled cutie in leather and ass-less chaps started to prance around the beach, giving her one helluva show…

“LaniLaniLaniLaniLani…WAKE UP, BIOTCH!”

With a snarl, the owner of the howled name emerged from her little cocoon of blankets and leather jackets to glare at the man floating above her desk. Wearing a haughty expression on his face, Cash the Annoying Ghost put his hands on his hips and matched her ‘please die’ glare tit for tat.

She really did hate her abilities, sometimes. Especially when they made her deal with dead people who were just as mean as she tried to be.

“I was finally asleep!” She growled, waving her hand through the ghost’s legs. Cash always hated it when solid things got too close to his not-so-solid manly parts and, as expected, the ghost leapt away from the table. “Nobody’s come in here to tell me that there’s a fight, the new bartenders I hired are holding down the fort and, more importantly, YOU INTERRUPTED MY DANCING ASS-LESS CHAPS GUY! Somebody had better be DYING or dripping blood all over my bar, or so help me, Cash, I’m gonna find a way to de-ball you!”

“Like I’ve never heard that before,” Came the reply from across the room. The smart ghost had the brains to stay away from the yowling bar owner, and pointed toward the door. “You might wanna go outside before there’s a riot, though. Some dude’s making the biker’s real mad.”

Of course he was. With another snarl, some childish desktop-item-throwing at Cash until the ghost disappeared through the side wall and a face set for murder, Ilani came stomping out of the back office like Godzilla on a rampage.

“WHAT THE HELL NOW?” She bellowed, her voice just managing to carry over the loud music. Some song lyrics seemed to be her answer, as a nicely accented voice proceeded to wander over Nickelback and reach her ears. What the hell?

Squinted eyes swiveled to the side as she caught sight of the…holy crap, was he river dancing? Seriously? Her irritation melted for a moment as a shocked laugh escaped her, but one look at the grumpy bikers surrounding the bar had her schooling her expression.

Swiping a hand through her coffin-adorned hair, the psychic proceeded to stomp over to the bar, use a few drunks as leverage and pull herself onto the bar. Her denim skirt rose, causing a few catcalls to sound from the gathered masses around them, and her belly-cut shirt sparkled in the strobe lighting. Her boots made loud whomps as she moved down the bar, the regulars savvy enough to get their drinks out of her way. When she finally reached the singing Irishman, she cocked a hip and rested one hand on her waist.

“Here’s a better idea!” She squawked, interrupting the bawdy lyrics, choosing to quote her own favorite song. “You foo’, GET OFF MY BAR!”

[Casey Callahan]

Casey couldn’t help but laugh at the angry mob of bikers that eyed him from the bar. Just like his daddy had raised him not to take any crap from anyone, the Irishman loved to ruffle the feathers of any jerks that crossed paths with him. Sure he would likely be all sore in the morning, black eye, bloody nose and maybe even lost one teeth or two, but he would show them how an Irishman fought.

He was about to do just that, leap down from the bar and throw a punch at the first moron that approached him, but when the first one that approached him was a beautiful brunette…well, he reconsidered it.

Tapping his lips with his index finger as if he considered her request he then smiled. If there was something he liked even more than a good drunken rumble was a beautiful woman.

“I would gladly do so miss,” he told her with a smile before taking her hand and pulling her close to him, “but first ye should dance with me.”

He was bold, had lots of attitude and was shameless after all. Pulling her along, he danced at the top of the bar and ignored the bikers bellow. Heck, if he was going to be thrown after that place afterwards he’d at least show some style, take the best out of life, after all he only had this one.

After a few good minutes of twirling wobbly over the bar with the club owner on tow, the alcohol started working its effects on him and caused him to lose his balance and fall down on the floor bringing the brunette down on top of him.

Giving her a lighthearted smile, the Irish then frowned slightly. “Why is that man floating over ye?” he asked pointing to the ghostly figure hovering over them. Casey knew he was drunk, but not drunk enough to not recognize a ghost.

(I moved Ilani just abit in my post, if that isn't ok just let me know and I will change it. Just seemed something Casey would do)

[Ilani Moonblood ♬]

With the crowd looking on in stunned silence and a litany of F-bombs exploding behind her eyeballs, Ilani couldn’t help but give the strange Irishman a googled look. Her mouth dropped open, surprise flashed onto her face and the little slap of the unexpected had her fists opening instinctively.

The guy was pulling her into a freaking RIVERDANCE. As if she could do anything but butt-grind and the worm…and if she hadn’t just freaking tried to intimidate him! Who the hell didn’t run away from an angry Pit owner? She was torn between amusement and irritation as she was urged to copy her new partner’s dance.

…And resist the urge to stick out her foot and trip him. Well, at least the swinging and whatnot was fun enough. All that twirling forced a laugh out of her, and as the crowd behind them started to cheer, she felt herself relaxing into the dance.

Which, of course, led to a tumble off of the bar. With a squawk that practically echoed in the room, she toppled over, hands scrabbling to grab onto a metal support pole. But, thanks to the surprise-stiffened arm around the Irishman’s waist and its resulting weight, face planting on the floor was the preferred route.

With another unhappy noise as her forehead smacked against his chest- ooh, very nice chest; and here she’d thought that he was just some skinny Mickey…no offense meant- she picked her head up to glare down at the chortling guy beneath her. Damn, talk about a compromising position; her knees were on either side of his hips and, if the poor guy tried to pick up his head, he’d be smooshing his face right into her boobs.

Her naturally overactive libido immediately did a happy dance, and she rolled her eyes at herself. Sure, the stranger had an accent that practically had her knees melting, but…but…

Waitaminute, hold the phone. Did he just say ‘floating man?’

Her eyes doing yet another google dance, she glanced over her shoulder to meet Cash’s surprised eyes.
“You can see him?” She asked, too shocked to move off of him. “You can see a guy floating behind us? Holy CRAP, you guys are just coming out of the woodwork! Tell me right now; who the hell are you, and are you human?”

Each demand was punctuated by a poke in his chest, forgetting for a minute that they were surrounded by bikers and lying a bit too close for comfort.

[Casey Callahan]

A laugh escaped Casey’s lips as he watched her reaction to his comment, but that laugh soon died out as he became too distracted gazing the beautiful woman on top of him. It certainly made him don’t mind that his ass had just met the floor the hard way, and when he raised his head a little for a better glance…oh hello!

With a smirk in his lips he leaned his head back down and eyed her. “I certainly like your questioning method,“ he gave a little chuckle, “Aye, I can see the floating man, why wouldn’t I be able to see a ghost? And aye, I’m one hundred percent human…unless you believe the stories about me great-great-grandmother that is.”

Casey could never explain how it was that he saw what he did, sometime it was a person sometimes it was an object, it could be subtle or as shining as the sun and he had come to understand mankind wasn’t exactly alone in the world. Good thing there was this story of members of his family that could do wondrous things and it wasn’t that much of a shock when they knew Casey saw hidden things.

Sometimes it skipped a generation or another, but once in a while a Callahan could pull off a nice trick and he was one of them, as simple as that, be it if the stories about fae blood real or not.

But never mind the old stories, the floating man and the alcohol in his blood, he was too comfortable right there to care about that. The most important doubt in his mind right now was: would she slap him if he tried to kiss her?

Smirking he raised a brow. “I answered two of yer’ questions already, as far as who I am, how about I exchange that information for a simple kiss? It usually gets me more talkative, ye know?”

Yeah, he is shameless.

[Ilani Moonblood ♬]

Whoof, the guy definitely had one helluva cute accent. What was it about Irish guys and their ability to rend all American girls into a drooling mass of goo? Some God Upstairs really had a sense of humor, man…or a really giving heart. Just keep talking, Mr. Irish Guy…

Then again, reality was the better place to live in, right? And reality was telling her that the guy was all human, could see Cash and that she was still straddling his waist. Now all she needed was her man to walk in and catch sight of the scene.

Definitely a thought that had her scooting off of the guy with a squawk. Holy crap, she needed Derek to stop trying to save the world and get his ass home!

“No, I’m not gonna kiss you!” She sputtered, pushing herself to her feet. Man, her world was definitely going topsy-turvey if she was passing up a chance to flirt and be flirted with. She really had to go do some hard thinking about life and crap, before her head exploded. Or her reputation died a sad, sad little death.

Whirling on the snickering crowd behind them, she snarled a few choice words that had the bikers going back to the bar and prying eyes quickly finding something else to look at. Turning back to the Irishman, she offered a hand, while Cash floated behind her. He was babbling on about ‘fairies’ and ‘not good,’ but she wasn’t getting any bad vibes from the drunk dude, so she’d save judgment until later.

Eyeing him with a raised brow, she tilted her head curiously. “I mean, I could kiss you,” She went on with a wolfish grin. “But I doubt my boyfriend would like it. He’s got a bit of a possessive streak and he’d love to eat your face. What I can offer you is some diplomatic immunity from the boys over there, and some tequila…if you can hold it.”

[Casey Callahan]

With a mix of disappointment and amusement Casey watched as the brunette moved away. Maybe he was losing his charm if he couldn’t even get a simple kiss.

“A bloody shame Miss,” he told her with a smile, still lying down comfortably on the floor before he took the hand she offered and rose to his feet. Peeking over her shoulder, Casey could see the floating man babbling nervously about faeries and couldn’t resist the chuckle. That was the old tales said, but he thought it to be foolish. What? He was supposed to believe his great-great-grandmother was Tinkerbell?

When the woman managed to get all the bikers to look away with a few handpicked words, he shook his head. How come big scary man be afraid of such a pretty thing as this brunette?

When she spoke again, a smile appeared in his features. Maybe his charm wasn’t so off after all, she was just a good girl with a boyfriend. “A boyfriend then? I was starting to worry I had lost me charm,” Casey laughed and wobbled slightly drunk, “but if he’d try to eat me face he’d have another thing coming because…” he played with the lines of one of his favorite Irish songs, “I’m a Callahan and we are as stubborn as mules with our blood on fire when we ain't at Sunday mass. We'll look any man straight in his eyes and say kiss me Irish arse! Yer’ better kiss me Irish arse!”

Well, people used to say he had less sense than a rock and they weren't far off. With another laugh, he winked at her. “Bhean gleoite (cute lady), have you ever met an Irishman who couldn’t handle his liquor? I can drink anyone in this place under the table and I would accept that tequila – there was a playful challenge on his tone - And would ya tell yer’ ghost friend to calm down before he has a heart attack and dies again? He isn’t the only ghost I’ve seen and neither the only creature that me eyes can spot so no need for him to have a fit about that.”

[Ilani Moonblood ♬]

“EEEEEK, he’s looking right at me! Lani, he’s looking right at me! He can see me! He’s not supposed to see me!”

Oh, to have a high pitched squeal sound off right in her damn ear. Definitely something to rosey up that disposition of hers. Especially when her normally overactive libido, currently going into withdrawl from lack of Derek was making her second guess her previous decision. It was just a kiss, man…wasn’t like she was going to marry the guy…

JESUM CROW, what was she thinking?! Let’s join in with Cash, she thought with a mental slap. AAIEEEE!

Thank God that the guy had a sense of humor, or she might have gone on with the screaming in earnest. With an amused snort at his family declarations, she shook her head and rolled her eyes.

“My brothers would have LOVED you,” She said dryly, raising a brow as she looked him over. “And that’s not a compliment. But alright, I think we have a challenge, Mr. Sexy Irishman. We’ll do this in my office, just in case things get…interesting.”

Aka, she found out that he was some kind of supernatural baddy and she needed to whap him with a poltergeist. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, but with her luck lately? She needed to be a bit careful.

Snagging his hand before he could protest- or start singing at her customers again…man, this one was definitely a first; singing insults- she practically dragged him toward the office, shutting the door behind her with a kick of her boots. Casually, she sauntered over to her desk, bending down to retrieve a bottle of her favorite tequila from the drawer beneath. Snagging two glasses on her way up, she came back around the desk and hopped up, crossing her legs.

“Have a seat, Irish,” She said with a grin, nodding toward an empty chair as she filled up one of the shots. “Here ya go; best tequila in the place. Now…tell me. How can you see Cash? And what in God’s name made you think you could sing insults at bikers and NOT get killed? ‘Cause buddy, either you’re crazy or brave as all hell.”

[Casey Callahan]

No one could say watching a Victorian ghost having a fit wasn’t amusing. The decease surprised that the living could see him? Wasn’t there anything wrong in this picture when it was the consensus of most of the world that ghosts weren’t even supposed to exist? Yeah…there wasn’t supposed to be Irishmen that could see things like shifters, demons, vampires and all the other kinds too if you want to be technical, but with the amount of alcohol already in his system…well, screw logic.

With a laugh, Casey gave no resistance when she pulled him along towards her office. A shame there had been no brawl and no kiss, but he wouldn’t pass up a drinking contest. Heck, it was his greatest ability wasn’t it? Drink like there was no tomorrow and live to tell the tale? He was damned Irish after all.

But what a sight when the club owner got the tequila! He was tempted to ask her to check if there were other bottles on that drawer. Behave Casey! She had a boyfriend and was a nice girl, he respected it, save his usual flirty nature for the bad girls that were oh so much fun.

Taking a seat in the appointed chair he gave a smile to her. What was she saying? Yeah, he should stop paying attention to those legs and hear what she was saying.

“I like to think I’m both,” he replied to her crazy or brave question. “And come on, all those nice fellas out there, it was just some good old time fun! I might have a broken nose and some ribs in the morning sure, but it is all part of the fun, isn’t it?”

It was no wander that his friends called him nut-Casey.

Smiling again he continued, “And thank me great-great-grandma if ya believe in the old tales. They say she was a fae, and at times those with Callahan blood are born with some useful gift, mine is sight. Me eyes already seen ghosts, demons, fairies…and a lot of beautiful girls like ye…” – okay, stop a second to roll his eyes at himself, remember she has a boyfriend?-

“But are we going to just chit-chat or you have the guts to try to out-drink me? Because yer’ a little girl, ye have the advantage of me already being halfway drunk,” there was a taunting playfulness on his voice before he picked one shot with one hand and patted her knee with the other.

“Come on, drink up!”

And with that he raised the glass in a salute and downed it, feeling the welcomed burn go down his throat.

“Not exactly me Irish whiskey, but not bad at all.”

[Ilani Moonblood ♬]

“Nice fellas? Holy crap, Casey, either your crazy or just really damn brave.” With a laugh, she made herself comfortable on the desk, downing her own shot with a happy sigh. She did sure love the hard stuff, as well as any excuse to get squiggled. There just hadn’t been very much to celebrate lately, so finding a guy who could see her ghosts and NOT eat her face? Definitely time to break out the ‘champagne.’

She paused with the liquor halfway to her lips, eyes widening slightly. Wait…did he just say ‘fae?’ As in ‘fairy?’ As in…Tinkerbell? She practically threw the shot down her throat in an attempt not to burst out laughing. Yeah, the image of the Irishman with little wings and a loincloth…definitely not one for a serious conversation.

Her voice was a bit strangled when she spoke next, immediately going to refill their shots. She pointedly ignored the ‘beautifl girls’ comment, though her lips quirked in amusement. “Fae, huh? I don’t think I’ve ever met anybody with…um…that kind of background—wait, are you freaking challenging me? DID YOU JUST CALL ME A GIRL?”

With a snort of amusement, she downed her shot and immediately poured another, inhaling that one as well. Pouring him another, she leaned forward with a brow raised teasingly.

“You mean, your Irish moonshine? The stuff my boys bring in can lay your ass out so flat, you’ll be asking for the license of the steamroller that hit you. So don’t be bad mouthing my tequila, buddy. You gonna keep talking, or should I show you how a REAL drinking contest goes?”

Two more shots hit the deck, and she grinned toothily at him.

[Casey Callahan]

Yeah, Casey was brave. But his bravery was tainted with a healthy amount of craziness, anyone that knew him could vouch for that little detail of his personality. He would take on the bikers and laugh in the morning before popping some painkillers into his mouth.

To him however, the old tales about fae blood were no laughing matter. It was his family heritage after all even if he wasn’t sure himself if he believed such tails, but a guy had to be proud of his heritage. He had Michael Callahan for a father, the greatest father he could ask for. He had taught him to stand for what he believed in and never take any crap for any jerk without kicking his ass, morals that every good Irish had to uphold.

“Aye I did,” he replied to her with a mischievous smile, “yer’ a girl unless me eyes are playing a trick on me. Yer’ little and frail and can’t hold your liquor like a strong Irish man can!”

There were the teasing words that were so common to his character, taunting her into a friendly drinking contest.

His smile turned a grin that almost reached his ears as he watched her down the next couple of shots. Damn, had to admire a woman that could drink like that!

“Are ya out to steal me heart?” he asked placing a hand over his heart and rolling his eyes playfully. “Yer’ good…for a girl, but ya can’t beat a real Irish. If ye have the courage to test yerself against me, yer’ ass is the one that will be on the floor.”

Winking at her, he leaned down and took the glass in his mouth, tossing his head down and downing the drink. Leaning his head back down and taking the glass back into the table, he grinned at her. “That is how a real man does it! Now pour me another because I haven’t even started and me throat is parched for all your girly chit-chat.”