RP:Deals for Fears

Location: Dezerae's Treehouse, Cenril

Summary: On his way through Cenril, Leoxander runs into a familiar companion and escorts the golden labrador home for an unexpected visit with Dezerae. And her ‘friends’...

Dezerae's Treehouse

Turning off the path from the scattered trees, the beauty of the flourished field dissolves into a narrow, cobble stone path, headed off to the south. While following the path, leaves are sprinkled across the ground, regardless the season, serving as decor offered my mother nature. The trees gathered closer to the Garden fade out of existence, exposing a small dwelling. After closer inspection, the residence was elevated slightly, anchored by a tree rather than resting on the ground. The space underneath was merely a foot or three but it was enough for this to be considered a "tree house". A few steps would bring one to the doorway and after a knock, if they were allowed to enter, a feeling of cozy warmth would sweep over them. The single room was not a sleeping chamber, which was evident by the lack of a bed or other sleeping essentials. However, this room still served a purpose. In a far right corner, several blankets and cushions litter the ground imprinted with paws, indicating that pets have rested here recently. Opposite the door, a few bottles of light liquor litter the shelves, accompanied with small trinkets collected over time. And on the left was a comfy nook that seemed used not too long ago. A cushioned seat, long enough to lay across welcomed all that want to rest and is mostly likely the first place to find the treehouse's owner.

Dezerae laid on the ground beside the steps leading to the entrance of her humble abode, arms outstretched skyward and, from a distance, a black specimen scurrying up and down the length of her right appendage. She knew Pillow would be back eventually, so instead hiding away in her treehouse, the feline remained patiently outside, prepared to let the Labrador in once he arrived. And while she waited, she’d distract herself with another of her precious pets, this one much more smaller and with a few more limbs to her name.

Leo hadn’t initially traveled the channel specifically for the reason of invading Dezerae’s space yet again, but passing by the bench after leaving the ferry at the docks, he found himself wondering where else she might be. Whether it was pure coincidence or years of tracking and keen lycan senses pulled him in that general direction, he took Arril street rather than bypassing the market and spotted the golden labrador from a few days before. A pang hit his chest as he envisioned a shaggy black mutt in a red bandana for a moment, and hopefully Pillow sensed that lost love to allow the rogue to crouch on a knee and rustle his scruff and ears in a scratch of greeting, immediately catching the cat’s scent on her companion. “Good timin’, mate…” Leo mumbled to the dog before he stood, eyes catching street lamp lights to shine in the dark as he looked in a western direction. “Le’s get’chu home.” If he wasn’t entirely sure of the way the lab was a good guide to the tree house, where his boots hardly made a step on approach for old, thief-trained ways. Naturally, he stopped just short of the front stoop path, because if that wasn’t Coco in her reach it was another tally to the arachnids she bonded with, and this one was no less ugly.

Dezerae heard steps that fell heavier than Pillow could possibly accomplish, so her attention fell in the Northern direction with preemptive concern. However, once her crimson gaze adjusted to the moonlit night and she realized the two familiar blondes walking her way, she relaxes, dropping (who was in fact) Coco into her lap, and sitting up into an upright position. The feline offers the lycan a smile, leaning more appreciative for retrieving her wandering child. “Pillow, you’ve brought a friend, I see. I’m shocked you managed to make it all the way out here, Pup.” Pillow trotted over to his owner, nuzzling against her cheek and leaning into her hand that raises to pat his head. The Labrador also notices his “kin” in her lap and also prods the arachnid with his snout, only pulling away when the small creature goes onto hind legs and waves limbs in a threatening manner. A conversation between animals that Dezeare would never understand. Her hand presses against the canine’s maw to move him aside, before making her way into standing and patting the dirt from her trousers. “What brings you here? Aside from Pillow.”

Leo might have tried to strain something that definitely didn’t turn out to be a smile, but he’d had an abundance of eight-legged encounters that year already. “I was in the neighborhood.” Telling the truth, even though he seemed to do that a lot for a criminal and con. Shining and reflective eyes from any light on the street or her windows were squinted at Coco’s display, as if any moment the tarantula might spring from her lap and attack his face. “An’ I told you I wasn’t gonna leave you alone too long.” Nope, he wasn’t stepping closer. Not that he’d been invited to do so, anyway. “Wonder how he’d get along with the boys. They’re still young, yet…” He mused about the lab that reminded him somehow of Jack, despite the different coloring. “Should I wonder why yer layin’ on the lawn when yer place is a skip away?”

Dezerae suddenly remembered his apprehension, and more importantly his last interaction with the lovely Coco cradled in her arms and she softly laughs at the memory, against her own preference. The feline sighed at length, mostly to stifle the giggles that were creeping up again from lost times that he’d not recall anyhow and brushed errant strands from her face that’d shifted from standing. “I was waiting for Pillow. As you may know, dogs have paws, so a door may be a challenge.” The redhead paused for a moment, thinking quietly to herself as crimson orbs sweep over the lycan before she settles her focus on his gaze. “Why don’t you come inside? I owe you your flask anyhow.” Whether he’d accept or not, the feline starts her way into the treehouse, holding the door open for the blonde Labrador to pass through and allowing it to shut until it was slightly ajar. The lycan had hands and not paws, so she was sure he’d be able to manage. If he were to enter, he’d find Dezerae slipping the arachnid into a large container, shared back another multi-legged creature, and away from the main living area. It was the least she could do for her critter-fearing guest.

Leoxander knew he still wasn’t Dezerae’s favorite example of a person. Or perhaps more particularly a male person, and the spider may have triggered some internal alarm that begged him to find an excuse to leave, but it was a testament to his trust that he reluctantly nodded as he watched her make her way for the door. He gave her ample time to be putting ‘Coco’ back into her habitat by the time he opened the door behind her and swept the treehouse interior with his eyes, shrugging off his black leather pack to leave it by the door for an easy grab, however brief or long the visit turned out to be. The liquor was good bait to tempt the pirate to somewhat face his fears. “Have I… been here before?” He recalled their first ‘bench talk’ and how time had passed that he couldn’t remember. A chunk of his life lost in a fog just like the remnants of his old, beloved ship and the mutt that had played the part of his shadow for so many years.

Dezerae pulled the flask from a random shelf, the vessel almost sitting as decor, making one wonder if the feline had any intention of returning it. She held it out for him to retrieve and hopefully he’d notice that it was filled again, almost to the brim. “No, you haven’t. This is a newer spot for me. I just had so many pets, I didn’t know where to put them.” And she was right. Littering the room, there was a pet in every corner, the two arachnids setting in their crate while Pillow curled himself into a ball on his designated bed. Or, there were remnants of the presence of a multitude of animals, displayed by the many food and water bowls all huddled to the side. The redhead wandered back to the shelf that held the flask and pulled an ambiguous bottle, and two glasses, just in case he’d want to partake along with her. Finally, she shuffled to the comfy nook, crossing her legs onto the seat and settling onto one side. Dezerae patted that other side of the plush couch, “Have a seat, if you’d like a drink. It’s nothing like your bar, but I have a supply.”

Leoxander was a bit reluctant to take it back. It was a ticket for an excuse to bother her again, but he wasn’t one to refuse liquor after a half day of travel and more business on the horizon before dawn. Taking in the scene of all those animals and far from oblivious to the spiders in their vessels, he decided to at least try to act like a normal guest and helped himself to a seat on the couch, starting to twist open the top of the borrowed flask before he realized she was going all out with the glasses, and he could tuck that refilled supply away for later. It was fit into the back waistline of his pants with black shirt and jacket pulled over to instinctively conceal it like another hidden weapon. Whatever she’d pour him, he might take a sniff at, but it wasn’t for any worry that she might poison him - she had plenty of opportunity to handle that in the past. Just instinctive curiosity for what he was about to drink with her. “You gon’a make an appearance in Enchantment in a couple days?”

Dezerae instinctively shifted in her seat, allowing more space for the lycan to maneuver. She dropped the bottle onto the ground with a soft clunk, taking her glass between her two fingers and sipping the drink as though it were an early morning coffee. If the lycan would evaluate the liquid, he’d notice that it was in fact a rum, their common drink of choice. The notes would include caramel, vanilla, cocoa, cinnamon, toffee coated bananas, orange peel and fruitiness reminiscent of a cognac. It was a sweeter liquor than what she’d usually indulge in when partaking with the lycan but these notes seemed to fit the feline and her aura in some odd way. The drink was swirled about as she pondered her response, “I’m not entirely sure. You know events aren’t my thing. I’m assuming you’re planning to go, Mr. Popular.” The redhead took another gulp from her drink before resting the glass in the space between her crossed legs.

Leoxander hadn’t actually had a good rum in a while with all the frequent requests and open bottles of whiskey in his warehouse lounge. Unlike her more calculated sips, he took back the liquid in his glass in a first hard swallow, eyeing whatever remained pending the height of the glass she’d served it in. But a second drink suggested he was enjoying the taste and burn that came with it. “Don’ have much of a choice. The dust is bloody wretched but Jim’s got me covered with enough antidote to breathe through it. Not sure how aware you are of the ties we got through these cities, but this’ll be the third leader workin’ with us, if my guess comes up heads.” No, he wasn’t bragging about his life again. He was referring to that subtle organization where they used an alias on the job. One he still considered her a part of - like it or not. “Beside Lora’ wantin’ to go I’m gonna have to crowd control the squad an’ make sure the royal jewels don’t end up missin’. Not a job I ever thought I’d be doin’ but gotta keep the agreement.” There was probably just enough left in his glass for him to finish off before he looked over her way, free arm on the back of the couch and his posture fairly relaxed. “Free food, free booze. They even give you s**t if you get pretty enough. Worth a few bells of patience, I guess. Doesn’t take much to get me pretty, anyhow.” Clearly a joke. The pirate was unshaven and rugged looking as ever, but at least he smelled more like the beach and potent herbs over a wet wolf.

Dezerae passed the bottle so that he may pour for himself, as his frequency of drinking always seemed to surpass her own. Chalk it up to their size difference. The redhead leaned into the back of the couch, head resting on the cushioned backing.”You’re allergy to pixie dust?” This is the first she’s heard of this. Of course, they’d never interacted immersed in dusty air, but the feline was still mildly perturbed that she was unaware. Enough perturbed to take a larger sip from her drink. His description of his role in the event was honestly tiresome and doing the opposite of selling for her. “You’re not making this sound appealing to me. Sounds like more work than anything else. And we can’t all get pretty like you. Some of us are more harder on the eyes.” She was sarcastic but perhaps not fully. The feline was in trousers and tank top, neither of which were party-ready or ‘pretty’ in the least. Even her hair was ‘alive’ for lack of a better term, the mass of locks shifting as she retrieved the bottle she left in the lycan’s care and poured herself another glass.

Leoxander nodded in answer as he took the bottle and refilled his glass moderately, though he probably finished off what he poured in another pull, enjoying that sweet preferred flavor of that well blended rum. He passed the bottle back in turn as she spoke. “Well we can’t all be so lucky.” Retorting back to the teasing comment, fully sarcastic or not. “But at least say I’ll be able to drag you across the channel for the beach. Some’a us plannin’ on havin’ a shindig on the south shore an’ would give you a chance to meet a few like minded souls so I don’t have to be constantly pesterin’ you.” If that wasn’t tempting, what was? He was also not quite serious with that comment her way. Blue eyes found their way back to crimson in the light that illuminated her treehouse space. “There ain’t many left from those days in the ‘Corpse, but after all that happened, I can’t say I’m surprised about that. Might be nice to see you at a change of pace.” Beside laying in the grass with the spider where he stumbled intentionally upon her. Her dog might have been comfortably snoozing on one of those blanketed pet beds, but he still found some jerky in pocket he kept on hand for the twins to flick his wrist and toss it to land right in front of the labrador’s snout on Pillow’s pillow.

Dezerae would stare for a while, at him or through him wasn’t quite clear. Eventually, her eyes closed in a long blink before she straightened her form from the slump position she was in before. Another small sip is taken from her drink before she speaks, optic focus falling onto her pets on the far wall. “If it’s casual, I can try to go,” referring to the ‘shindig’ he’d mentioned. The idea of a collection of strangers, likeminded or not, was never an easy scenario for Dezerae to wrap her mind around. His final words finally catch her attention, her gaze rolling back toward the lycan though her head remains tilted in the Labrador’s direction. “I’m not someone that needs to be watched over, my friend. I am very capable.” Pillow senses the treat fall before him, through the many keen sense the canine had, and his eyes slowly opened from the napping state to a quick, excitable demeanor. He stands and sniffs the foreign jerky before gnawing, taking quick glances toward Dezerae to be sure he’s allowed. Of course, regardless he’d continue to chew despite her reaction. Lack of training, honestly.

Leoxander replied in a mellow, deep tone. “Yeah. I know.” That didn’t mean he was going to stop. And then the rogue was quiet for a long time. “So… I’ll make you a deal.” Leo leaned forward in his seat and set his glass down. On the floor, on the table, whatever might be more convenient near the bottle. “If you give me a bloody appearance between now an’ then…” What was he thinking? Why was he doing this? His heart started beating a bit quicker and he sniffed as though some of those fuzzy leg hairs were already irritating his nose. “I’ll hold that… her.” He assumed it was a her? His gaze trailed toward Coco’s living quarters. “An’ I won’t bite it if she don’t bite me.”

Dezerae was quite low energy this evening, perhaps due to the time or the rum. But as he spoke, her relaxed expression introduced a furrowed brow, as she attempted to follow his proposal. By the end of his offer, her eyes were wide, crimson hues no longer shrouded by pale lids. “Pardon?” She heard him, so her question was just a formality and for a moment, she wondered if he’d in fact lost his memory. A few beats passed in silence before the first true smile all evening emerged and she unconsciously bounced in her seat, likened to an excitable child. “You’ve got a bet.” Dainty fingers taps his shoulder for encouragement before she stands and wanders to the crate, which held both Coco and Bartholomew, and lifts the full container and wanders back to the couch. The proximity of two critters may be a lot, but this allowed for easy access to the crate, lest she need to toss the tarantula away amidst another fainting spell. The lid is lifted and put back once Coco is retrieved and the feline’s tarantula occupied arm is held outstretch toward the lycan. “She’s all yours.”

Leo barely resisted the urge to crawl backward over the back of that couch as she brought the terrarium closer with the wolf spider and the tarantula. F***. Forgive him, gods, but that was the word repeated in his mind as his eyes fixed on the pair within. The hair on his neck was standing on end. What if they smelled predator? Weren’t they predators? What would a spider bite do to him? Shut up, Leo! The string of thoughts as he tried to calm his demeanor, somehow knowing they might sense it. Don’t breathe on them, right? Well nine hells, he was breathing from his nose a bit rapidly since his jaw was clenched. He tried to take a deep breath and started to outstretch his hand, curled his fingers back in, rubbed his neck. Okay. A deal was a deal. Deciding she would follow through to face her own fears, he shed his jacket even, set it aside, and moved his inked arm to be near hers so Coco could bridge the gap and crawl on. F***.

Dezerae watched the lycan carefully, tracking any signs of a fainting spell. Coco, on the other hand, was not as careful of people’s space and feelings, scurrying left and right, but remaining mostly isolated on Dezere’s arm. Perhaps it was the hairs that stood on his arms that was not sensorially appealing to the critter or his rapid pulse that would radiate through the small being as well. Regardless, Coco lingered more onto the redhead’s arm, at times stepping one of many feet onto the lycan and quickly turning about to scurry in the opposite direction. Eventually, Dezerae guides the arachnid, practically shoving the poor thing onto Leo’s arm - if he’d allow. Once Coco made full contact, the feline pulls away, leaving the pet to shift about chaotically. She, as in Coco, was frantic, but not aggressive. Never one to bite, instead she’d move around at a rapid pace, pausing at times to assess her exits.

Leoxander shut his eyes closed hard as his arm remained rigid in the air. He could feel it crawling on him, wrist to sleeve hem, then… gods help him, onto his chest. He held his breath a moment, trying not to breathe offensively on the creature. “It’s okay…” He said in a low tone that probably hummed a soft vibration through eight spiney feet. “We’re okay…” Who the hell was he talking to? Coco, apparently, using Loravelle’s mantra. While she tended to count down numbers facing something so terrifying, there were few things the lycan pirate feared more than spiders. And he’d had to face a bone construct of enormous shape in a battle, recently. “Okay…” Yep, still saying that word. He opened his eyes, tilting his head up so he didn’t exhale all over Coco’s back. “....Okay.” All his. He looked gradually down at the large arachnid on the front of his shirt, meeting two eyes with eight, wide but focused.

Dezerae found this fascinating and she was not shy to the fact. Her alert attention was split between pride for how well Coco was behaving in this situation and shock at how well Leo was behaving in this situation. “You’re doing so well, Pup. The both of you are practically best friends.” The feline shifts forward, breaking into his personal space if he’d allow, and prods the arachnid in a nurturing manner, comforting the small pet and confirming that Coco was not abandoned by the feline. A finger gently grazed against the tarantula’s head, the smallest of pets, before her attention floats back to the critter’s new stomping ground. “You’re very much okay. I bet you want to take her home now, huh?” Dezerae laughs quietly again for the second time this evening before nodding finally. “You did you side of the deal, so I guess I’ll do mine.”

Leoxander wanted to growl for her use of the nickname at that particular moment beyond all others, but he wasn’t about to upset Coco. His chest was still moving a bit quick for his comfort, but he was doing his best to control his breathing while Dezerae prodded her companion and made him more nervous. “If I touch it… is it gon’a bite me?” He was feeling bold, or perhaps just that willing to prove how much the feline’s appearance now and then would mean to him. It was always topsy turvy like a sea storm with their friendship, but he meant to keep hold of it like a line to a sail.

Dezerae : This was more than the feline could have possibly imagined, compared to the last time they were in this situation. Perhaps it was the couch. Forgetful of personal space once again, her mind just focusing on her proximity to Coco, she places a hand on his chest, signaling for him to relax his breathing. Another piece most likely not helping his nerves. “Oh, she’d never. She’s a darling, I promise.” The feline absentmindedly grabs at the lycan’s hand, and guides it toward the arachnid, though the pressure from her fingers were light in the off chance he pulls away.

Leo couldn’t recall being that close to Dezerae since the initial bench session, and there was no hate in the touch that managed to slow his breathing pattern. Then his hand is guided by her smaller, softer grip and his teeth grit harder as he maintains that slow breathing, watching it encroach upon the large, furry spider. The wolf in him wanted to whine warning. The human in his eyes looked very uncertain. But… Leo followed through with a prayer to Lady Luck that Coco might accept the graze of his callused fingerprint down her cephalothorax and abdomen the way she accepted her feline companion’s pet. He did look a bit pale and oxygen deprived, but he was trying to stick it out. "...Fuzzy..." He murmured, not expecting that texture to his touch.

Dezerae nods enthusiastically, “Isn’t it great? She’s practically a puppy.” Eyes flicker to Pillow, who continued to gnaw at his newly acquired treat. The feline falls back, to allow the lycan a moderate amount of space, yet still in arm’s length from the critter, clapping quietly at the newfound relationship she’s created. “Do you think you like them now? They’re harmless in the grand scheme of it all.” Of course, some were poisonous and even a bite may cause harm to the normal bystander. But Cleo was trained - even more than Pillow - and the confidence that Dezerae had in the small arachnid was a lot more than she could claim for other people, let alone pets.

Leoxander shook his head, but he risked another surprisingly gently touch down the back of the spider who, overall, did seem pretty mellow. The eyes, though. Those… curved fangs so close to his face. And why so many damn legs and no paws or feet? He had gotten over his animosity of vampires, but could he do the same for these little blood suckers? “No…” He answered her question solemnly. But… maybe that one was -okay-. Nevermind the giant albino arachnid Khitt sometimes pulled into view through a portal, or the flying bastards in the Vailkrin arena that bout. Or the skeletal construct that had pinned him down and sent him nearly into shock. “You can take it back now…” Baby steps. He’d survived, Coco hadn’t been flung across the room. It was a small success and worth it to give her a reason to make an appearance, soon.

Dezerae would pout, slightly, in response to the rejection of the Coco + Leo bond. Regardless, though this wasn’t a resolution, but it was at least a start. “You’ll fall in love with her eventually.” Fingers approach the arachnid and effortlessly lifts her off the lycan, the critter most likely attracted to the familiar scent of the redhead. The woman falls back into her side of the cushioned seat, observing the scurrying pet for any senses of trauma before slipping the pet swiftly back into her and Bart’s crate. Bartholomew hopped a bit, assuming that it was his turn for exposure, but instead is met with the lid. The two critters seem to huddle to a corner of the container and conduct a meeting to discuss Coco’s exploratory findings. At least, that’s what Dezerae would like to believe. When the multi-legged critters are safely at distance from the blonde, the feline refocuses her attention on him. “Good job.”

Leoxander swallowed against the involuntary urge to throw up and he picked up her glass, or the bottle, or whatever was still in reach to reward himself with a therapeutic gulp, side eyeing her for the praise. A deal was a deal, and as he handed whatever he took a drink from back to her he reminded her of that. “Guess I’ll be seein’ you on the island soon, then.” It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the brief company, despite that phantom feeling of skittering legs on his arm, but he still had a trip to complete and it was getting late. “Maybe even make an appearance at the coronation if you’re feelin’ frisky.” Standing up, he may or may not have a bit of nervous webbing to peel off the hair dusting over the nautical tattoo, making a bit of a face even if nothing was actually there.

Dezerae took the bottle, obediently, watching him as he stood, mildly concerned that this would be the moment he’d faint. But instead, he was surprisingly steady, so she allowed the concern to melt from features. “A deal’s a deal. I can’t promise you the coronation, because that’s a bit much. But I’ll visit your lil’ island and may even present myself to the shindig you’d mentioned.” In the agreement, the feline acknowledged that she’s gotten the easier end of the stick so she’d (attempt) to hold true to her promise, lest an extreme bout of anxiety came into play. They would both just need to see. The feline held the bottle to her lips, prepping to drink, but spoke first, “Regardless, feel free to visit again.” The comment is accompanied with a wave.

Leo let a look linger in Dezerae’s direction, eventually breaking away after a nod. He would take what he could get when it came to her making some sort of appearance now and then. “See you soon, then.” Sure, he looked surprisingly stable, but out of sight of that tree house he’d probably have just a small fit and swipe at his arms and brush off his shirt and look ridiculous. But at least at that time he grabbed his pack and casually exited her place, he remained composed.