RP:Aftermath of Gates Closed, Gambit

Aftermath of [Gates Closed gambit]

Beachside Villa

Mahri had managed to make her way back to the Villa despite the amount of blood she had lost in Larket. She’d managed to crawl haphazardly into the hammock before passing out, a crimson stain spreading in the sand where it seeped through the material she lay on. No big deal, really. The wolf has been close to death so many times that they were practically on a first-name basis. She hoped Lita took her time getting home, she didn’t really want to try and avoid all the questions she knew her lover would have. At least no horses were hurt. Slowly, thoughts faded as she fell deeply into unconsciousness.

Lita had been at the shop later than she'd planned to be. But with tension building between Larket and Cenril and however much unspoken, inevitably at home, she'd taken to spending a bit more free time with her sketchbooks in the studio above the shop. Cal, however, had no sense of personal space and she'd thrown a tube of paint at him before he'd even gotten a word out as he'd burst through the door. She hadn't heard much after, "It's Mahri and it's bad." Just a blur of burnt orange smeared across the wall where she'd missed his head and something about the beach house. Cal was no stranger to commenting on her love life, or life in general, but she trusted him. He'd stuck around when no one else had. But lately, so had Mah... the sprint back to home felt like a million miles and the unfortunately familiar scent of her lover's blood was thick and sickly sweet. She doesn't hesitate to scoop Mahri up out of the hammock to carry her up the back deck and into the house. "Stupid girl," she's mumbling. "You should have gone to a healer instead of coming all the way here. How's it gonna look if you bleed out all over the kitchen, hm?" She's trying to keep her voice from shaking too much as she lays Mahri on the kitchen counter for now. It's flat and cold and thanks too Leo, there's a pretty decent stock of first aid supplies on hand. What else is Lita gonna keep in the kitchen, it's not like she cooks! She dumps a box out of a cabinet and gathers a handful of bandages and a bottle of rum, ignoring the bloodied handprints she's plastering everywhere. Later's problem. Right now she'd need to get Mah's shirt off and see what she was working with. "Hey," she's saying, patting the she-wolf's cheek as she uncorks the rum with her teeth and spits the cork onto the floor. "Stay with me a bit, yeah?" What she doesn't say is that Mah' not allowed to die. Lita's too damn selfish to let her.

Mahri hadn’t known Cal was there, or maybe she had and she’d dismissed his scent. It was like a dream, she felt herself floating up from the hammock and onto something hard and cold. Her brow furrows with displeasure and far away she heard voices. Lita, scolding her for bleeding in the kitchen. But, she wasn’t in the kitchen, at least not with Lita. Her mother was cooking up some potion or other for one of the ladies living in the city, humming a tune that she loved from the time she’d been little more than a toddler. “Mom?,” she questions. Her mother was gone, dead for a long time. What was she doing here in the villa? Villa…what villa. This was the farm house she’d grown up. Mahri’s mother turned, a smile split by deep claw marks happy though grotesque to see. The older woman’s left eye dangled by the ocular nerve, swinging and unseeing. “It’s nice to see you. Come help me.” Mahri groaned, her cheek patted and the smell of rum hitting her nose with a familiar burn. She’s not ready. Not yet. Not when she can find out how her parents died .. if she was going to join them. Maybe it’s a mercy she slips further down. It was almost as if the teen-aged Mahri didn’t realize her mother had been mauled as she walks to the wood stove. Her slippers whisper over the polished wood floor, the hem of her dress, a pale yellow gingham, danced over her ankles. “Sure. What do you need?” A hand missing all but one finger reaches for the various herbs bundled and Mahri handed each over, watching as they were ground, simply crushed or dropped in whole, all the while the dead woman explaining what she was doing, something the wolf wouldn’t remember when she came to again. Suddenly, the question: “Why did you do it?” Lita’ll see her frown, her brows drawing together while her blood does, indeed, stain that counter. Her lips move as though talking, denying an accusation with ‘it wasn’t me.’

Lita was better at this when she could separate herself from it. When it was someone bleeding out she hadn't laughed with or confided in, someone who didn't take her breath away, someone she didn't... She grips the edge of the counter for a moment. She'd always been bad at this part in the past and everything in her now wants to run, and throw up, or both. Because watching Mahri hurt would hurt and watching her die would hurt too much. Mahri's saying something, things she doesn't understand, and she grits her teeth. "It's okay." She tries to say, not at all convinced. She reaches for the collar of the woman's shirt and tears until the fabric rips. How did healers do this. She'd joined that stupid guild, she just hadn't planned on Mahri being here, or it being her trying to help. Trying. Floundering. She should have gotten an actual healer and now... "Breathe." Cal's voice, from the other side of the counter. She hadn't noticed him finish removing Mahri's shirt or unrolling clean bandages as her hands shook. "Looks like whatever bit 'er went straight through but it won't stop bleeding with just a bandage." He's pressing a wad of gauze against her side, below her ribs, shoving another beneath her. Lita is staring at him. He didn't mean. He did. Her brain has a few choice cuss words to say. "Get the one from Svard, it'll heat quicker." When she doesn't move right away, he looks up at her finally, "Now!" He snaps a little at her and her feet remember how to move. She makes quick work of heading to the bedroom and coming back out with the dagger in hand.

Cal’s voice echoes into whatever dream Mahri had taken refuge in. Her shoulder’s jerk on the table with subconscious surprise. She knew that voice, the scent and suddenly she’s back at the Barrell watching Lita almost suck a man dry. She’s not horrified just as she hadn’t been then, and then there’s Cal, behind her, his voice in her ear. “This is your fault, too. You just couldn’t leave it alone, and now look at her, the monster she is.” Mahri shook her head, “She’s not.” But weren’t they both? Monsters? Somewhere the echo of ‘Witch!’ found her. A groan escapes when Cal pressed the bandage to her side, feral silver-grey eyes fly open then, finding the source of the pain and her lips draw back, showing teeth more lupine than human just then. The sound that comes from her throat is more beast than woman and she tries to crawl from her back, away from the help that’s being painfully offered.

Cal is used to that look. Usually it's from Lita, but it's more annoyance than fear that levels pale blue eyes at Mahri as he presses harder against her wounds when she struggles. But yeah, there's a little fear. He is human, after all. And not so keen on the things that can eat him, Lita having been an unfortunate friendship he'd made when she was still human. "Can you hurry up?" He growls at Lita, his voice gravel. She's fumbling with a lighter and a bit of rum she's lit in a bowl, holding the dagger in the flame with one hand as she looks up. Mahri’s awake. Mahri's awake? Her brain is a few seconds behind her and she's leaning forward, reaching for the woman's cheek to draw her attention towards her away from Cal. "Hey, it's okay, he's helping." She sounds eerily calmer, at least in her own head. She nods, her thumb caressing Mahri's cheek. Dark eyes flicker back towards the blade in her hand as she turns it in the flame, and she swallows hard. She licks her lips as she looks back to Mahri again. "Mah, this is gonna hurt, I'm not gonna lie to you. But I need you to try and be still, okay?" She's nodding, as if Mah has already agreed. "Front or back first?" Cal asks. "Back." Lita answers. "If I do the front first, you're liable to lose an arm." There's no humor in the sentiment and Cal is questioning his life choices as he helps roll Mahri slightly up to her side and before she can argue, Lita is pressing the super-heated metal against the open wound to burn it closed. She presses a clean bandage over it as Cal lays her back down and then Lita will try and do the same to the front before the dagger cools again.

Mahri swept her eyes over to Lita. This person she trusted, even with the wolf so close to the surface, she trusted her. Her ears had started to take on the subtle point of wolf-ears by then, she’s on the verge of shifting when the two sat her up and half turned her to get to the entrance of the wound with the white-hot metal against the wound. Flesh sizzled for the few seconds it made contact and, mercifully – for Cal probably – Mahri passed out again. This time, there’d be no nightmare-dreams to taunt her, simply blackness. She’d barely twitch when the same blade touched the exit wound, though she might tense a bit before relaxing again. Sweat beaded her forehead, dampening her hair as it slide down her temples. She’d feel hot to the touch but not uncomfortable like with a fever, and she kept grinding her teeth as they kept insisting on being less human and more wolf like. Eventually it’ll stop as the wolf calms and settles, getting to the business of healing the piercing wound. At least it had missed vital organs.

Lita takes a long swallow of rum to try and settle her nerves. Mahri has (thankfully?) passed out again. And still there's some large part of her that wants to run. She can feel Cal watching her. Studying. Measuring. Calculating. "Lita," - "You should go." She cuts him off. He doesn't move though, just watches as she carefully cleans the fresh burn wounds and manages fresh bandages. There are tears on her cheeks. Why is she crying? She'd seen loved ones hurt before. "Lita," he tries again. She's moving to lift Mahri from the counter and he moves to help as well. "Stop it." She snaps at him. "Don't. Don't touch her." She bares fangs at him, a low hiss in the back of her throat and his shoulders square as he takes a step back. His fear melts into defiance and she is instantly apologetic. "Just go." Her voice softens some as she says it. "Korina," he says gently and she stiffens with Mahri in her arms as she turns towards their bedroom. She'll tuck Mah into bed with the covers up to her waist, nevermind any blood and mess, all that could wait. She can hear Cal still in the kitchen, cleaning up, and she sits on the edge of the bed a minute, smoothing stray curls away from Mah's face. She'll lean down to press a kiss against her lover's temple and sit with her a while longer before going back out to apologize to Cal and thank him for his help.

Mahri stirs only slightly when Lita stiffens, her eyes flutter open blindly before closing gently again. Once in the bed, she’d sleep most of the night with a couple periods of restlessness and one where she’d try to leave the bed, her body rippling on the verge of shifting to the wolf but with not enough energy to follow through. If she could shift, run, she’d be ok. She just needed to get away. Find the cool mists to the north that didn’t remind her of a home she’d lost, the woods of Larket. Once Lita gets her settled again, she’ll sleep the rest of the night and the entire next day. It wouldn’t be until about halfway through the next night she slowly woke up, skin cool and not hot to the touch, the wolf that struggled to get out calmed and settled once again. Looking around the room, it’s automatic that she reaches across the distance on the bed to search for Lita.

Lita spent most of the next day and night in and out of their room. Pacing and worrying and drinking. She still hated rum. She'd kicked Cal out at some point. He kept wanting to talk and it was getting on her nerves, even if she knew he meant well. But she couldn't exactly talk to him about how Mah being hurt was Larket's fault, and how that made her feel partly responsible as well, and was she making the wrong choice entirely with this whole damn war? The beach house was supposed to be neutral but even after the kitchen had been scrubbed down, she could still see the abstract patterns of where Mah's blood had been. At some point she'd slept a little, curled up in an armchair in the bedroom, not sure if Mahri would shift to her wolf form and if she'd need the extra room to do it. She's still there when Mahri stirs at last, her legs stretched over one side, and she uncurls herself when she sees Mahri moving. "You're awake." She says, instantly regretting it. Her voice sounds raspy, worried, and she tries to stuff it back down. "I should get some clean bandages on your wounds." She should have gotten a healer. But she hadn't wanted to leave. "And get you something to drink." Water probably. She nods and heads for the kitchen for the first aid supplies and a glass of water.

Mahri ’s head turned towards the sound of Lita’s voice. She hadn’t been dreaming, Ace had been there the whole time. Somehow, that was a relief. One she showed with the smile she gave. “Yeah, but only if by water you mean rum,” she whispered hoarsely. Why did her throat hurt? Probably because it was dry. Using her elbows, Mahri pushed herself up to lean against the headboard, her right hand reaching to touch the bandage wrapped around her middle. “Was that friend of yours here?” She vaguely remembered seeing him and not liking something. A sudden thought had the she-wolf look up at Lita, “Did I hurt him?” Had she dreamt mauling him or had that happened? The image of her mother torn half apart and making a sleeping potion for the miller’s wife came unbidden as well, that image was shoved aside with a shake of her head.

Lita has to take a second in the kitchen to steady her nerves. Mahri being awake and seemingly okay makes her want to start cry again. What is wrong with her!? She reminds herself to breathe and in no kind terms yells at herself to get her crap together. And somehow Mah asking for rum makes her smile a little, briefly. "Water." She says as she makes her way back into the bedroom and hands over the glass. She perches on the edge of the bed and peels back the sheets. Mahri's at least still in her underwear. "He was here a while, yeah. And no, you didn't hurt him, he's fine." She's careful as she sets about peeling off the bandages, cleaning the wound areas and getting fresh ones on. "I can make you something to eat if you want. And if you want to get up and sit out in the living room a bit, I'll get fresh sheets put on the bed for you." She doesn't ask what happened. She's not sure she wants to know yet. Even if everything in her wants to leap into some long-winded apology. Not just for Larket but for you know, practically maiming her girlfriend. "Don't think I'd recommend a shower for another day or two though, let those burns heal an' all.

Mahri might be tired yet because she takes the water and sips from the glass just to make Lita happy. Looking down at the exposed wound, Mahri frowns then remembers how it happened. The next drink is a huge gulp. “Good, good,” that Cal hadn’t been hurt. And that she hadn’t hurt him. The burns were a healthy pink as new skin took over with no scaring. Even the wound from the crossbow bolt was close to healed. “I’ll be fine. I just need to run and it’ll be ok.” But, she’d let Lita fuss and take care of her. It seems she needed to. “Can you give me a sponge bath, then? I smell terrible.”

Lita is still staring down at the fresh bandages. Everything still smells like Mahri's blood and burnt flesh. Or maybe that's just still seared into the back of her brain. Run? Right, wolf. She still wasn't a hundred percent sure on how that worked. A sponge bath? Was that humor? Was she supposed to laugh? "Uhm, yeah, think I can manage that. Let's get you sitting up, yeah?" She leans down to loop an arm under Mahri's good side to help her sit up if need be. Yes, she's probably being overly fussy. Geeze, she's channeling Mouse or something, that's gotta be it. Assuming Mahri doesn't fall over or anything, she'll fetch a basin of warm water and some soap and a rag. "You want to tell me what happened?" She asks carefully, sitting next to Mahri on the bed and wringing the rag through soapy water before starting to clean Mah's shoulders, working her way down slowly.

Mahri grunted a little, sitting up with Lita's help and sliding her legs over the edge of the bed. One arm is looped around her lover's shoulders and the other pressed against her side. Silvery eyes slide up, the corner of her mouth quirking upwards in a slight smile when she answers, "No." She's not telling Lita what happened and have the woman feel guilty about it.

Lita rolls her eyes at Mahri's answer. If she was being cagey, she was certainly feeling better. Lita dips her fingertips into the water and flicks a few drops at the she-wolf's face in playful protest, before leaning forward to press a kiss against her cheek. She lingers close, nuzzling her jaw with a little sigh. "I'm glad you're okay." She says finally, before leaning away again to continue helping with that sponge bath. "Now, tell me anyway. About what happened? This war is gonna take so much from everyone involved. I'm not about to let it take you from me."

Mahri sighed, taking a moment to just enjoy being taken care of. "I really don't want to tell you. All that's important is no horses were harmed." Beneath the bandages, if Lita decided to change them, the wounds would be healing, the burns from the dagger barely visible. Since she hadn't been shot with a silver crossbow bolt, there wouldn't be a scar either. "And apparently, I'm a witch now."

Lita sometimes wants to strangle people for trying to protect her from things. Even if she knows it comes from a good place- a place of someone caring about her. She dips her head and playfully nips at Mah's shoulder in protest, but fine, she'd let her keep her secrets. What was one more. "Well, I'm glad the horses were alright then." She drops the rag into the bowl of water and arches a brow at her lover. "A witch?" She leans back slightly, feigning suspicion. "Listen, I can overlook and forgive a lot of things, but a witch!?" She offers a playful smile. "Do I need to hide the broom or something? Don't want you flying off in the middle of the night."

Mahri snorts out a laugh, the nip tickled. "No, not yet. I haven't mastered that skill yet." Reaching for Lita, Mahri pulls her close for a proper kiss before laying back down and closing her eyes. "Thank you for taking care of me, but I think I'm gonna just take a nap now." There's a pause, where it might seem as though she's fallen asleep, and maybe she's drifting in that place between, but Ace's excellent hearing might pick up the soft, "love you" right before the wolf drifts off for the next few hours.

Lita is quietly grateful that Mah falls asleep after those words. Not because they're unwarranted. Her heart catches in her throat and it takes her a minute to move off the bed with the bowl of water so Mahri can sleep. She tugs the blanket up around the she-wolf before leaning down to press a kiss against her temple. She'll change her bandages later. This stupid war. One way or another, she'd find a way to make sure Mahri came out of this alive. She'd make sure of that.