RP:Buying Safety
Beachside Villa
The path to the house was secluded and worn. The plants had been trimmed back away from the path and the yard smelled of fresh-cut grass. The path was familiar and her feet knew the way. There was no need for a key since they never locked the doors. She left the door open as she padded across the front room to where the little bar sat. "Leave that open, huh?" She called over her shoulder. "The breeze is warm tonight." She snagged a warm yellow bottle from the bar and made her into the kitchen for a glass. "Hey, you said you hadn't been to the beach in a while, eh?" She called as she opened the back door. She left that open too as she made her way onto the porch. Towards the right expanded the views of the garden she'd been tending and the orchards that the boys still looked after every few days. More to the right, the sea crept up towards the grasses not a few yards from the edge of the porch. It was a beautiful sight. She uncorked the bottle she still held and took a drink, let the warmth of the whiskey and the sweetness of the honey fall through her, heavy and warm. She tilted the bottle towards Ranok with a grin, "Want to try it?"
Ranok could follow Lita easily enough. Booted feet plant firmly in sand and sod alike, bearing the smith's weight from his passage. They were strangely silent, those footfalls. The magic of the things quieting the footfall, but nothing else. Hands reach up to remove the stylish hat that sat upon Ranok's head when the villa comes into view. Gray eyes flicker as they take it all in. The unlocked door, the humble and cozy interior, the excellent view. "Feels like home." Not what he really selected when he built a home, but then, he had absolutely no taste in decor. So he was told, anyways. The door was left open as requested, though the smith sends an uneasy glance that way. Old habits died hard, and that paranoia that he fostered wasn't exactly still. Open doors and the like with his back to them were hard to take. Made him slightly twitchy. He would adjust, but slowly. In the meantime, a trio of electric blue lights flare ever so gently, barely noticable. They died gently, and after that, Ranok would relax with the door open. "Beach valks are zumddink Hy really hefn' de time to do, dese days. Vedder travel, vork, or simply keepink Rynvale runnink as best as provisional government kan...sightseeink hain't on de list uf tinks to do." A lie, more or less. He had time, it was simply invested elsewhere. The bottle was eyed somewhat uneasily. Getting drunk let your guard down. More paranoia. It would never leave him, a curse held for years. His mouth twitches, and then he relents, "Oh, vat de hell." A hand extends for a glass, even before he shucked his boots and duster.
Lita had been meaning to redecorate for months. The house had been a gift. But she hated the decor. The furniture, the paintings, that hideously creepy bear-skin rug that still stared upwards with beady eyes and sharpened teeth from the floor of the front room. She'd've taken it all out and set it to fire by now if she didn't think the Cap'n would pummel her for it. Lita wasn't worried about the open doors. But then, she knew Marshall was out there, Cal's hired hand due to the worry of her safety when the Cap'n was out and about at sea. Lita had tried again and again to invite him in, but the man chose always to remain hidden. Probably for the best. Lita snorted at that comment about provisional government keeping Rynvale runing. Obviously, her opinion wasn't high when it came to said government. But she'd keep quiet about it, for now. Lita nodded in silent approval as she poured him a glass. And not to worry, the honey cut the alcohol rather well. It was why she drank it- besides that it was delicious. She was a lightweight when it came to hard liquor. This way, she could drink with the best of the sailors at the Barrell and not end up on her ass every night- or wake up in strange places. She tucked her bag into the kitchen and then tugged Ranok's sleeve until he'd oblige her with a walk down the beach. It was a nice warm night, the last bit of the sun fading into the edge of the distant horizon, the stars trying to make their way out into a velvet sky. She took another drink. "I was sorry to have missed your party. I heard it was a smashing success." The sand was warm between her toes and drew a soft smile to her lips. "I hope you'll host another so as I can come this time."
Ranok did think the rug was a little tacky, himself. Bear rugs were only allowed if you tackled the bear and killed it with your bare hands, and no other way. Man Law, or so he has decided. Any persons that were lurking on the edges of the place would key Ranok's instinctual responses, unfortunately. Quiet or not, the feeling of being watched, a pile up of subtle clues over time, wouldn't just be thrown off by the smith. It made him really edgy, and that was putting it nicely. He frowns, too, at Lita's subtle scoff, "Hy do my best. It vasn' eksactly my choice to see Arien pretend Leo vas aliff und leaff de entire islund, nor for his vole pack to follow. Pickink up de pieces." He scowls into the drink offered to him like it was the source of all his problems. He really, really wasn't a fan of Arien's leaving, regardless of how Lita might disagree with him. Once again, he finds himself relenting to Lita's whims and allows himself to be tugged out into the sunset. It really was pretty. The cut whiskey was slammed back in typical Man fashion, minus the roar of triumph from such a feat. His mouth twitches in amusement as he considers doing it anyways. Big accomplishment, slamming back honeyed whiskey. But such things amused him nonetheless. Staring out towards the sun slowly sinking into the embrace of the ocean, "It vas, yah. Tough it vasn' de party dat vas such a success as de rabbit chasink vas. Pipple veren' so interested in de dancink, it turns out. Kolor me surprised, huh."
Lita had only started getting to know Leo in the weeks before his sudden departure. He'd stopped being a sore subject after a while. She'd successfully shoved him into that dark little box she never opened anymore. So she only nodded and gave a little half-hearted shrug as Ranok spoke of him. She couldn't argue. The city was still in shambles with the loss of its key players. And the Fold trying to move back in was laughable at best, these days. Claiming they were retaking the city as their own. Ridiculous. She knew of Ranok's association with the clan so she kept her mouth shut. But she was pretty sure that if she ever met this Rilla person, she'd just haul off and punch her in the face. Liquor helped, so she downed another swig. She caught a subtle movement off towards the treeline of the orchard and she glanced that way. Probably Marshall; she wasn't worried. But her hand fell instinctively to the dagger at her waist for a moment all the same. "Dancing in intimate. Personal. I've learned people rarely reveal such aspects of their nature without a certain sense of mystery being allowed at the same time." She tipped the bottle slightly to refill Ranok's glass. She was still drinking from the bottle- very unladylike, sure, but it was what she was used to. She was pretty sure she didn't have cooties. And if she did, they were the good kind anyway. "You should do as masquerade ball next time. Or maybe some garrish theme ball. They're always fun. Everyone can dress up like pirates and come to Rynvale." She giggled at the image in her head. Lots of pretend-Leos and pretend-Jolies running around. Maybe that would be a bit offensive but the thought was still funny.
Ranok was invested in Rynvale himself. Regardless of any 'rightness' to the action, no one else was stepping up. No one else wanted to touch the place. No one else wanted to make sure the Timelord didn't grab the city. He'd stood with men that had died for the city, when Ordox had assembled his small invasion force. He still visited the Ravine that was made as a result and paid respect to the men he'd ordered to die. Word of that, perhaps, might have spread around. The smith was a hard figure to miss. He disliked hitting women, so Lita would have been fine...though it would have been a very good way to cut this walk short. Head snaps at the movement among the trees. "Ve're beink followed." Stated simply, straightforward. The smith had dropped his glass to afford him both hands. One goes to his waist to reach for any of the multitude of weapons there, just in case. The other plants his hat back on his head. He had no luxury of knowing who this Marshall was or his benign nature. Those lights that had followed him since the house flare again, gently. Lita's motion had been what keyed his own response. Normally he'd have settled for keeping it in his attention but not giving away the knowledge. Paranoia begat paranoia, it seems. But when she relaxed, it left the smith confused. "Vat iz goink on?"
Lita would never have meant to offend Ranok. She was just opinionated. And she knew of him, sure. His reputation had preceded him, of course. Lita was just opinionated. She'd helped the underbelly of the city grow and expand. She'd fought alongside friends and seen them die. She figured she was allowed to be a little opinionated these days. Lita glanced towards the treeline again, a small shake of her head enough to leave Marshall backing off, towards the house again, still being covert, still wary perhaps of Ranok's presence amongst the manor. It was rare she brought people outside their circle to the grounds. But she'd intended to offer her assistance where she could and perhaps form a new friendship along the way. She reached out and touched Ranok's arm briefly, trying to be reassuring. "Not to worry. He's known." She was distracted for a moment by those little blue lights and dark eyes flickered across Ranok's person, searching for the source and perhaps the reason for them. Some kind of protection, she'd assume, but her curiosity had always gotten the best of her. She gave Ranok a questioningly look but he asked first and so was owed an answer. "He's a hired hand." Assassin, watchman, guard, footman; she wasn't sure what he was exactly. The few times he'd made himself known to her, he hadn't spoken and his eyes warned her not to breach the subject with him. "A friend took it upon himself to hire protection for the manor when I'm here alone." She'd been kidnapped before, left for dead more than once in strange cities by people she knew nothing of. But her work bred danger, begged death and claimed blood. She'd give her work more than that if it meant getting what she wanted. Since he'd been posted, she'd never felt fear on this property. "Ranok, I asked you here to offer my help with Rynvale- In whatever ways I can." She carried some weight with the underbelly of the world- or maybe she just liked to think she did. Either way, she could sway a person's mind. "Gold, supplies, whatever I can do to help."
Ranok glowered still. It wasn't known until he tackled it, quantified it, and made it scream for its momma. Since he'd seen none of Lita's thoughts on Rynvale, The Fold, or the state of its control, he couldn't exactly react to the thoughts. All was well, save for the form of Marshall. Another sharp look at the hand that touched his arm. He makes a displeased expression, and exhales. All at once, the tension was gone out of his body. Like a switch flipped, it was all gone. Remarkable control over his emotions, perhaps. What was more likely was that he was just *very* good at hiding it. "He moves like a vraith." A compliment. Sort of. The lights dim. To call them strange was Understatement of the Year. Lita was only grasping the depth of matter. They weren't telling their stories yet, however. Back to flecks of light. It may be realized that those lights had been with the smith the whole time, merely set at the dimness of stars in the sky. Difficult as all hell to spot out in the light, but becoming increasingly more evident as the sun sank. "You friend knows how to pick dem." Mulling over Lita's offer in his head, he finally says, as he bends down to retrieve the dropped glass, no hint of embarassment from his dropping of it, "A luvly uffer. Resources are plentiful. Rynvale iz a trade port, after hall. Its kuffers are a bit in qvestion...Arien's schpendink...vell." He halts. More badmouting of the female lycan was probably unwise. Ranok *could* be tactful. Sometimes. "Hy em supplyink much uf de gold myself. So, on dat front, de uffer iz onneeded. Vat Hy do need iz hends, und skill." Lita's connections were undoubtably useful, no matter how much sway she held. The question was...would she like what he planned to do? He hesitated on that for a moment. Washed out the glass in the ocean first and cleaned it off with a waterskin pulled from a worldly pocket. "Perheps Hy kould use hyu...de onderbelly uf de kity iz in a bit uf a turmoil, iz it not? De government gone. Provisional government in place. Not enough eyah."
Lita was assuming the wraith comment was a compliment for Marshall. She'd have to agree. There were times when it was easy to forget the man was even about. Until he made himself known, of course. Or wanted her to see him. Sometimes it was just the flicker of movement, other times it was a soft sound. Not quiet out of place, just sometimes attention-drawing. And even then it was easy to brush it off and think it nothing more than the wind or a stray critter in some underbrush. Ranok was speaking again and her attentions returned to him. She smiled softly. "He should. He helps to train them." Again, she didn't offer any extra information on the matter. But Ranok was going on about Rynvale again so she perhaps she needn't worry about any unnecessary inquiries. She watched him clean off the glass, silent, before she'd pour him another drink. A smirk had found its way to her lips. It was easier to supply gold and supplies, even easier sometimes to round up a few of Cal's men to send after a particular item. But sometimes it just wasn't quite as much fun. And Lita's curiosity was certainly piqued by the possibility of fun- maybe a little danger. "The city's shadows are only in such a tizzy because they're not sure what it is can be done. What I mean is that, with new governments and faces come new regulations and rules, new customs, new bribes to set. A lot of high players fled to Cenril when the riots started there. Less worry over impending political changes and contending offices. The few remain here in Rynvale have dug in their heels. They're a stubborn lot, but they're appeased with the right amounts of coin and liqor." She took another swig from the bottle and let it settle. "I can always round up a dozen men or so willing to help with a job." She wouldn't mention Cal. Best not to. "What did you have in mind?"
Ranok was...well, Ranok. He knew when you should ask, and when you shouldn't. Usually he didn't care, but he knew. "A he, den, iz de man dat hired hyu a vraith body guard? Interestink." This was drawled, slightly. The liquid poured into his glass was swirled. He smirks, just slightly. Make it appear as if this revelation was a big deal when it wasn't. Tug on her chain, so to speak. He drains half the glass without ceremony. "De nev kriminals vill find me a herder target to bribe. Hy don' tink Hy need to tell hyu how much uf a bad idea it iz to treaten me und mine. Gold uffers me noddink Hy hefn' already." The glass was outstretched, and the lights flare again once more. Was that a shooting star that passed exactly where he pointed? Spot one, miss the other, unless you were quite sharp. "Ah, but every man hes his price. Mine hain't so schteep ven hyu find it. But..." There goes the rest of the glass. "Kenril. Even as kriminals flee to Kenril, dey find a schtone vall. De church, tightenink its grip. Dey'll succeed, hyu know. Hy've seen Redovian in action. De man iz difficult to distract, und even herder to get to. Und he hes resources uf his own." No mention of who's side Ranok was on. But it didn't take a genius to figure it out, no doubt. "Hy've heard rumors dat kriminals from Kenril are fleeink to Rynvale. Vat a tvist, eh?" Fingers cover the glass to prevent a refill, and his expression turns from the mild amusement it was to a developing Ranok Classic scowl. "A tvist, indeed. Und Hy'm not heppy about it. Vat Hy vant iz faurly simple. Hy intend to driff de kriminals out uf Rynvale as vell. De organized vuns. De schmugglers. De pirates. Uproot de seedy onderbelly. Zumddink tells me you men vould not be so eager for adventure, now, in dat light." A glance, cast at Lita, to see her reaction.
Lita nodded at Ranok's interest in Cal. But she knew how to keep her lips sealed. Information was power, she knew this better than most. The silence was deafening. She had little patience for games unless she knew the rules and could predict the outcome and this one, true to his reputations, seemed rather unpredictable. Marshall's presence, even across the grounds, was a sudden comfort. "I don't have much to say of the organized crime. But I will say that it's not all as horrible as it seems. Some of us are good. Some of us strive to help, even from the depths of disaster that we surround ourselves in." Us, not them. We, not them. She was a part of it, she would make that very clear. But she wasn't a threat, not yet. If she were, she would be dead by now- or at the very least, at the end of one of Ranok's pretty blades. The lights were a distraction, and the lines of worry that had creased her features were erased for a moment, replaced with an entirely opposite emotion. The name Redovian cause Lita to momentarily forget herself as she rolled her eyes. She wasn't fond of him, either. Thorn in her side most days. He was so intent on cleaning up Cenril that he often shucked the good with the bad. Society's underbellys may have been of a seedier sort, but they weren't all bad. And most offered protection for the wayward citizens. Perhaps Ranok was smarter than his western counterpart. "I won't help you to purge the city of its entire history, if that's what you ask. Some of those same criminals fought alongside the armies of Rynvale during the invasion." She wanted a stronger drink- or two or three- but kept herself in check and corked the bottle. "I'll agree that some need to be driven out for the good of the city's whole. But some do not." She wouldn't hide where her allegiance stood. She'd stand behind Cal any day. He was a good, decent man. She's quiet a moment, mulling over his last words. She bit at her lower lip and turned slightly to face the ocean, searching for the horizon that was indescernible from the sea. "They would. For a good cause, they would draw weapon and lay down their lives. These are people with families, too, Ranok." It was the first time she'd used his name. "People with children, with loved ones, with homes on the island. People that choose to help their communities in the only ways they can because their provisional governments have seen to mark them as unfit human beings. Somehow lesser because of mistakes made in the past. They deserved their second chances and they prove themselves time and time again." She was calm, her voice steady. She'd stand by her decision.
Ranok snorts. Not quite a complete scoff, though it was close enough to almost make the mark. "Hy em sorry. De paintink uf kriminals as goot in action amuses me. Hy've lived herd times, before. Used to schteal. Resorted to beink a tug before Hy vas svept up by powers Hy didn' onderstund und only barely grasped years down de road. Hy killed men for money. Zum may argue dat Hy em, now, 'a goot man'. But never vunce deed Hy tink my survival vas henny measure uf goot. It vas more...brutal. Hy deed not vant to die. So Hy deed vat vas necessary." He raises his glass to his eye a moment, then lowers it. The thing cast beams of light as the moonlight began to shine. "Do not get me vrong. Dere are goot men dat resort to bad tinks. Dat loaf uf bread schtolen iz vorth seeink you children not schtarff. Zumtimes evil men *do* need to die, und doze merchants *von'* miss doze fev koppers hyu sviped. But keep in mind. Dese men dat schteal, schmuggle. Cheat, tieff. Kill, mug. Or henny variation dereuf...dey're doink it to odders dat are tryink to surviff, too. De guards uf a schip are dere to earn der pay, so *dey* kan feed a family. Dey hain't inherently evil because dey take de pay uf an evil man." He casts his eyes to the woman beside him. "But dere are zum dat enjoy der dark vork. Propagate it. De bad sort. So." His head tilts upwards slightly. "Hy suppose it vould be in de interest uf mhenny to point dem out. Vould it not? De farmer dat treshes kan see only vat lies before him, after hall. Vun schtalk iz anodder ven hyu're on de ground level. But if zumone vo knev doze fields...schow him vere de rocks vere. Vere de veeds vere. Vere not to kut...perheps he may be inclined to listen." A slight smile. There was the offer. Fairly Ranok-like, all told. He wasn't stupid, after all. "Hy kannot promise total amnesty. It iz impossible. Mistakes heppen. De scyde overcuts now und again. But, perheps, zum uf doze resources kan be devoted to nurturink de schtalk left behind ven de mistake iz made. Hy em no monster. Vell." His features turn sad. Just slightly. "Hy suppose Hy em, hall saeed und done. But Hy digress." The offer was simple. Lita helps Ranok by pointing out the elements that need removed. The familes of those that lose their lives assisting this purge would be looked after. What any soldier could ever want.
Lita was still silent as he spoke, still staring out at that horizon, watching the stars come out to play. She knew better than to be emotional about all this. She was better than it. But these people, some of those same people that Ranok was so quick to be rid of, they were as close to a family as she had come to have in the last decade. She gave a little sigh, almost imperceptible as she listened. Of course he would choose a farmer's analogy. She was the daughter of one, after all. Not that he could know such a thing. The tale made her smile all the same and she shook her head lightly. She could do without a few criminals about Rynvale. She could just as easily leave Cal's name off of that list- perhaps the Cap'n's and the Fox's as well. Most of the others had fled the lands some time before and hadn't been heard from in some time since. They'd have to clean out the runner's tunnels. Move all the merchandise someplace else. Haul it all up to the Kraken and the gambling parlor above, maybe even the manor. But no, too risky- or was it just risky enough? She was chewing at her lip again, her mind racing, steering away from her. "I can do some digging and see what I can come up with, it should so be desired." She turned towards him then, that refracted light from his glass casting a soft beam of rainbow across her cheeks. She gave a little nod. "Far be it for me to hinder the noble efforts of my governments will." She turned back towards the house. The night was late and she had much to do already. "And me, a humble landowner." She waited at the back door for him to follow and she took his glass, set it aside the bottle on the porch railing. "I do hope you'll stop by again sometime. And if you should need of anything-" She left the offer unfinished in the air between them. Perhaps this could be a mutual arrangement after all.
Ranok knew the potential risk he was taking by letting Lita know. She informs her buddies. The most ideal situation would be them leaving rather then fortifying. It was almost desired, given that it would be one less branch to snip. But, nothing ventured, nothing gained, after all. "Vorry not. Hy hef no intentions uf settink afire de koves as an openink moff." Yet. "De rats kornered fight dat much de herder. Not to make henny implications. Hy vill hallow pipple to vacate. De lesser schteeled men, de 'goot' vuns, so to schpeak, are de vuns dat hopefully leaff before henny blood needs to be dravn." The glass handed off, the body tingling just slightly from the effects of the alcohol. A hand at his torso and he inclines slightly, "Hy live to serve, after hall." Said without a trace of irony, the words carried a strange...heaviness, about them. It was difficult to describe, but there nonetheless. He straightens. "Hyu know, Hy tink Hy'll take de uffer. Nekst time less business. Onless dat iz vat hyu veesh. But...ontil den, yah?" A hand, tugging the brim of his hat. A smirk, spreading just slightly across worn and weathered features. And then he would be turning to leave, departing down that homely and cared for path, duster spreading behind him like a thing alive. Blue lights, bobbing behind like demented will-o-the-wisps, brightening to illuminate the path. He'd be visible down the entire beach. A strange statement to make, for a man so paranoid, it was. But he must have had his reasons.