RP:Her Name Was Mahri

Location: Smuggler's Keep

A long winding staircase takes you down into the cellar of the store, which seems to be much further underground than it should otherwise be. In a world of shadows, lit only by the flickering flames of gas lanterns, the underbelly of the runner’s shady operation is revealed. Unopened crates and barrels line the damp earthen walls, and in various corners of the room rough hewn tables are set up, contraband in transit strewn across their surfaces. Some are destined for display and sale above stairs, others for re packaging and relocation to alternate destinations, be they private clients of the smuggler inland or the wider market offered by buyers in mainland Hollow. One might wonder how such large shipments are transported to and fro without alerting the authorities, but the presence of the opening to a rough hewn tunnel in the western wall of the room provides an answer. Should one care to traverse its depths, it would lead to the discovery that the tunnel spills out onto the now devastated Sandy Beach of the island’s southern shore. There, on the darkest of nights might the runner’s ship Starchaser be discovered unloading her illegal load.

Stumbling into a rather private moment between Finn and Mahri...

Mahri felt quite a bit, and in so short a time too. It's a wonder her senses didn't just fizzle on her. Gods above, she loved him, could never tell him unless he was sleeping and could deny Finn nothing. With her lips bruised and swollen, she offers just one answer. As though there could have been any other, "Yes." Here and now if he wasn't careful. In fact, she's already wrapping herself around him, clothes and all, and her hands latch into the ginger of his hair, clutching almost desperately. "Yes, Finn, always," then her mouth is against his, practically devouring as small growls rumble insistently in her throat.

Heavy armored steps could be heard over the wooden floor above. They did not stop, the steps belonging to either a customer who knew his way around to find Finn, or something else entirely. Snorting heavily to announce his presence at the top of the stairwell, he huskily remarked, "So that is why your scent was a particularly strong and easy to track, wolf..." His grey lupine eyes were without emotion as he looked down at the embraced pair.

Finn was almost lost to the moment, almost. Already his arms were flexing with the intent to hoist the female onto his frame, his calloused fingertips tugging at the barrier that was her clothing as her fevered whisper stoked the flames that were licking higher and higher. Mahri was indeed locked in his embrace when that entirely inconvenient distraction of a voice came floating down the stairs into the cellars the below. His arms tightened slightly around the limber body in his arms when he realized that it was she whom the male above was addressing. His answering bark was rife with the tension of a male frustrated in the act of claiming; angry and possessive. “Don’t know what the hell you think you’re after here mate..but I’d watch the tone. Reckon I don’t take well to folks stomping around my place like they own it,” he snapped irately.

Mahri frowns in confusion, her hazy mind unable to grasp the implications of two male voices. That is, until she peers over Finn's shoulder. "Rhocielle?" Confusion, definitely. Disentangling herself from the Runner, the lycan straightens her clothing, but not her hair. Who cared about that? Nor did she hide how swollen her lips were, or the flush of her cheeks. Her eyes were dilated so only a thin ring of silver encircled the pupil. "And you were tracking me, why?"

Rhocielle barked abruptly at Finn's interrupting remark. "Stow it. I am not that wolf of yours," he replied, alluding to either the man's relationship with Leoxander, or his own black wolf, Bane, "And you are no wolf either..." His gaze narrowed faintly at the human male, uttering his own challenge as his paw like hand cracked it knuckles by merely clenching his fist slowly, "You are welcome to behave like one though..." Turning his attention back to the woman, he went about his business as if other were not even there. His husky drawl was octaves more calm in speaking to the female, "Aye, I need to know where you were two days past. More specifically, two nights ago and that following morning, yesterday morning..." Nothing was said about the death of the young girl. If the Lycaness was innocent, better to not worry her unnecessarily about the details.

Mahri 's mind raced, but only for a split second, "I was drinking." There's no hesitation, since it was the truth and it's not as though any witnesses to her embiding would have been sober enough to remember just how long she'd been there drinking. " As for where I was the following morning?" A smile curves her lips, secretive and seductive, "I don't think that's any of your business."

Finn’s gaze narrowed slightly, his hold on the female relaxing slightly and allowing her to slide to the floor, though his arm would remain resting lightly around her waist. His own instinct for survival took note of the confined space..and the truthfulness of his statement. Besides, he found himself curious about the current line of questioning. “You heard the lass mate.. she was drinkin’ No law against drinkin’ now is there?” The question was lazy, even if the whisky gaze had sharpened significantly. He lowered his head to brush a kiss over her ear. “Go on darlin’ I’ll be there in a few minutes.. Seems our friend here isn’t here to buy anythin’ and I don’t fancy window shoppers much. Not good for business really..” he added huskily. It would only be a matter of moments before Mahri slipped away, from her place at his side to saunter up the stairs, pausing only long enough to pointedly await Rho’s movement that she would be allowed passage, that sensuous curve to her lips remained fixed in place, directed at the black alpha who stood between her and the privacy that was Finn’s quarters. If he moved, she would soon be gone from sight.

Rhocielle slowly descended the staircase as she began her exit, his gait almost like that of a stalking predator as his grey eyes kept locked with her. His right paw settled on the hilt of his blade though nothing in his movements spoke of hostility towards either of the individuals. Not having a care that he had stumbled into an intimate moment between the two, he was soon face to face with the woman. In his secretive and seductive fashion, he snarled almost to her lips before she left in passing, "I've made it my business..." Glancing over his shoulder to watch her as she ascended back to the store's ground floor, he snorted softly, "Aye..., we'll speak again, Mahri." Left alone with the man, "You could make this easier for her... Were you with her drinking, and if so, where?"

Finn had little enough intention of allowing the wolf down into the heart of his operation. It would be evident to most with a brain in their heads that the basement was perhaps more than a functional cellar, and everything about the lycan bespoke of one with brains. Especially the nature of his questioning. The runner was on Mahri’s heels and half way up the steps himself when he came to a stop in front of the alpha, his body placed conveniently enough in a position that would all but require a forceful passage if the lycan was to descend any further. An auburn brow arced slightly, the male’s face remaining curiously impassive as he indicated to Rhocielle that they should ascend the stairwell to the shop floor above. “Reckon that woman has never taken the easier road on anything in her life mate. An’ I’d be glad to tell you I was drinkin’ with her if I was..but I wasn’t,” he said casually, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes flashing across his rugged face. “You’ll have to be getting’ your answers from her I’m figurin,’ if she cares to give em to you..” he ended. If the wolf had responded to his cue, the end of that speech would find them back on the shop floor. Auburn head canted. “ Now if you aren’t plannin’ to buy..I reckon I’ve got some unfinished business to attend to..aye?” he said, shades of his thwarted desire resurfacing in his voice as he thought of what awaited him above stairs.

Rhocielle snorted to the smuggler, "Good answer..." His steel-grey eyes bore into the other's brown ones. A singular growl rose from his throat, "I would have hated to have gotten rough... A fight in a store would have brought down the Rynvale Guard at this location, and it seems that would be exactly the kind of attention you would want down here in your... cellar..." A wry smirk creased his own black lips as he parroted Finn's mannerism, "Reckon that, mate?" With the air of an arrogant male, he turned on his heels. With a whip of his cape, rather than his black tail, he returned to the ground floor and continued on into the streets outside once more.

Related Pages:

• Larket
• Part of the Case of the Burned Baker Arc