RP:Preparations

Mahri and Nortengaal run into each other in the Jolly Roger where he takes her downstairs to see the progress and preparations for the fighting ring being planned. Leo later arrives and they discuss other plans.

Mahri can be found lounging on the large leather couch with a bottle of rum at the ready. Meaning, propped up on her stretched out thigh and held between two fingers and regularly brought to her mouth for a drink. Jet-black hair drapes over her shoulder in a thick braid, something she hasn't done with the mess of curls in, like, forever. The Jolly Roger isn't exactly a bustling hub of activity at the moment and, being honest at least with herself, Mahri isn't sad about that. Lita wasn't at the beach side villa, and even though the wolf could have stayed there, it didn't feel the same without her vampire lover there. So, this is where the she-wolf can be found if anyone came looking, or wasn't looking. It was all the same to her.

Nortengaal is humming an aimless tune to himself as he walks down the wharf towards the Jolly Roger, soon to be home of the Bear Knuckle fight club. He’s in notably good spirits, which in this area of town might attract some…unwanted attention, were he not as known around here as he was. And so he continues, unaccosted, as he reaches his destination, still humming to himself as he pushes open one of the metal doors and enters the bar. A brief moment to let his eyes adjust to the difference in lighting also lets him scent the lounging she-wolf before he sees her. An easy smile forms, and after taking a detour towards the bar to grab a bottle of cinnamon whisky, the bearman ambles over to where Mahri lounges and plops himself down into a nearby chair. “Evenin Mah. How goes?”

Mahri rolls her eyes, followed by her head, towards the ever cheerful bear and takes a long pull from the bottle before she responds, "It goes, Rug. you seem chipper." She'd have moved her feet if he had chosen to sit on that couch, but given her history with it (and Lita of course) perhaps that might not have been the best idea. "You seem to be in a good mood. What's got you so happy?" Was the woman ever in a good mood? Probably, just rarely.

Nortengaal chuckles a bit. Chipper huh. Been a while since that was true, thats for sure. He uncorks his whisky bottle and takes a drink from it, savoring the burn as it goes down. A shrug and another chuckle are followed by a slight shake of his head. “Well for one, the work on my fight space is coming along nicely. For two i was hoping to run into you soon, i have a question for you. And for three, i happened to come across some positively delightful herbs. So all in all things are looking pretty good right now.”

Mahri quirks a brow in curioslty then. "Oh, that's nice to hear. How soon before it's finished?" She remembered asking some time ago about private hand-to-hand lessons. "You should let Leo know about those herbs. I'm sure he'd appreciate it." Wetting her whistle, Mahri swings her legs over to edge of the couch to sit up, leaning forward so her forearms rest on her kness and the half-finished rum dangles from an apparent loose hold in her fingers. "Whatcha wanna ask me?"

Nortengaal smiles broadly, leaning forward a bit in excitement. “I’m not exactly sure to be honest, but so far they’ve finished reinforcing the floor slash ceiling, and are working on smaller structural things around the room before setting up the bones of the different areas.” a chuckle “I’ll be sure to do that.” A twinkle enters the ruby eyes of the bearman and he pauses a moment to take another drink from the bottle. “How good are you with knives?”

Now both brows go up with the last question. The bottle is carefully set on the floor while the silver-forged dagger is drawn from its sheath strapped to her thigh, "I reckon I'm fairly decent with a knife. Why?" Did Nort have targets down in the basement? "Actually, before you answer that, why don't you show me what's been done so far downstairs." The dagger is slid back into its home, safe and snug in the leather. "I'm rather curious to see for myself how you plan to lay it out."

Nortengaal was secretly more than a little pleased he’d managed to get such a reaction from Mahri. It might not have seemed like much, but if you knew her at all you’d know that was almost the same as her exclaiming out loud. His eyes are drawn to the dagger’s movements. It was a beautiful weapon to be sure. Blinking away the moment of transfixion, another broad smile crosses his lips at her request, and he takes another deep pull from his bottle before mimicking the she wolf’s action and placing it on the floor. Standing, he turns and waves her to follow him, reaching into one of his many waist pouches to extract a key, which once produced will serve to grant entry to the basement, in all it’s transitional glory. Leading the way down the stairwell, Nort pauses at the bottom and waits for Mah to join him before he starts to describe the various areas he plans to have, from the betting stand against the west wall to the small bar area against the south wall, and of course he doesnt forget the “ring” itself, more an octagonal area roped off all around. . Mahri waited for Nortengaal to open the door and lead the way downstairs. It is, after all, his domain she was coming into. The work in progress was impressive and as he described the future lay out, Mahri pictured in her mind. The betting boot, the bar (especially that) and the octagonal ring in the center of it all. She could see it clearly and the thoughts of it brought a rare smile to the corners of her mouth. "It's going to be amazing, Rug." The nickname she'd saddled Nort with wasn't said with malice or distaste as before, but more like an endearment. She wandered around the space, careful of the construction debris and supplies. She wasn't bothered by the saw dust kicked up by her booted steps. Her voice echoed across the space when she asked, "So why did you want to know if I'm good with knives?" Given her chosen tool of the trade was daggers and knives, it seemed there had to be a reason behind it.

Nortengaal might not have seen Mahri’s smile, looking about the room as he was, but he definitely heard it in her voice, emphasized by the shift in tone of her moniker for him, and he smiled in kind. He had initially been a bit nervous about the prospect of leading something so potentially big, but as time had passed and outside interest had grown he’s come to feel more excitement than anything else. Lost in his visions of the future he almost misses her question, and takes a moment to shake his head clear before responding. “I’m hoping i might be able to learn a thing or two about them myself, if’n you wouldnt mind showing me.” he said, straight to the point.

Mahri came back around, slightly dusted in the remains of beams and other materials. She didn't seem to mind at all and once face to face with Nortengaal again, she tilted her head. "I can. Leo might be a better teacher but given I've asked for some lessons from you, I can do a trade if you want." Teeth caught at her bottom lip in thought. "Any good blacksmith can forge a set of well balanced knives for throwing. What exactly are you looking to learn?" Stabbing wasn't hard, it was the other skills of her craft that were more time consuming.

Nortengaal nods a bit, brushing some errant dust out of his own hair. “I’m asking around honestly, trying to get as much learning in as i can, so it’s good to know that Leo might be able to help me out too. But yeah i’m definitely down to trade some skills with you.” he pauses, kind of wishing he’d thought to bring the bottle of whisky downstairs with him. “Well, I for sure want to learn to throw knives effectively. I’ve got a bit of an idea how it works, mainly from watching other folks, but i’m more of the hands on type of learner. Maybe some of the finer points of knife fighting in general.” Nort chuckles. “Anybody can stab somebody, not everybody can do it with style.” a grin follows his words. “Plus, i’ve been thinking of some new toys i might want to acquire, and though im a bit of a collector, i like to have at least some ability with the things i own.”

Mahri understands just where Nortengaal is coming from. The same reason she'd asked for more hand-to-hand lessons; needing to expand her own skills. "I used to know a few really good smiths. Not sure if any are around anymore. I could ask Leo." It's a suggestion, but she's also trying to think of anyone else she could ask or put the word out that a black-smith is needed. She caught that sort of compliment in reference to her stabby-stabby skils and the corner of her mouth twitches. "I thnk Leo would be your best bet learning knife fighting though."

Leoxander tended not to mark his approach carelessly, but once he caught scent of his fellow were, they would hear the metal door close behind him. Above the pair, creaking steps still forever quiet. “You should know better’n to say my name three times, Mah.” He was standing in the doorway, which might draw their attention first if it wasn’t already open. Stepping down the stairs to sit on the third or fourth from the bottom and rested inked arms over his knees. “Lita knows one, think he’s on the island now an’ then. I s’pose I could see if my weaponsmith is hauntin’ her old shop.” His nocturnal eyes scanned the cellar to see if any construction had been finished. Between the renovations of the kitchen, the ‘storeroom’, the place was full of sawdust, tools and materials for the past couple weeks.

Nortengaal ’s hand idly finds and unclasps the flask at his hip from it’s holster as they talk, the need for some sort of libation strong enough to cause unconscious action. He brings it to his lips, giving it a little swirl to make sure there was liquid in it, as if it was ever empty, before he takes a swig of it’s contents. A slight face is made, as he discovers it currently contains amaretto, as opposed to the whisky he was expecting. He’s about to offer it to Mahri when his conscious brain kicks in and he stops, remembering that she definitely doesnt share his immunity to silver, and he gives the flask a closer inspection to make sure it was safe for her to drink from, and not one of his silver ones. Oh joy of joys, its not silver after all, and he again moves to offer it to her, managing to indicate with a few gestures that she should smell it first to make sure she’d even want to take a drink of the sweet liquor. The bearman is about to speak when who should make himself known but Leo himself, and he turns to greet the alpha with an easy smile on his face. “Well, speak of the devil, or so it’s said. Heya Leo. I’d certainly appreciate the inquiry.” He notes the man’s gaze as it crosses the dusty work space, and Nort takes a moment to fill him in on what's been completed and what still needs doing, basically giving the same spiel he just gave Mahri a few minutes ago. “...and i think once all that’s done we’ll just need the wards from our witchy friend and we’ll be in business. Though really, we can always get that done later on if the basic construction stuff gets wrapped up sooner than later.”

Mahri eyed the flask, possibly wondering if it's his usual silver as well before he hands it over in offer. A quick sniff, a shrug and she takes the offered drink. Certainly she knew Leo had arrived. His footfall might be light, but his scent was what had alerted the she-wolf. She was lightly coated in dust from construction and an absent shake of her head after the shot of amaretto sent some floating around in small glittery motes. While Nort catches Leo up, she'll sneak in another swig from the flask before handing it back. "Hey Boss," she smirks, silver-grey eyes glittering with amusement, "If I knew that's all it took I'd have done it sooner." Say his name three times, that is. "Didn't think I could drag ye away from your Mouse though. Or," she cocks her head a bit to the left, "whatever else you been up to." Moving past Nort, Mahri settles on a step a couple down from Leo and leans against the support beam.

Leoxander took in Nort’s observation with a thoughtful not as he glanced around the room. Of course, ‘Bil’ as he was known, his merchant booth would be left in tact and Leo motioned idly toward it with hand and jaw. “We’re not kickin’ Bil out. I’m sure you’d be doin’ each other a favor if you kept him around to help with the books. Sell booze, merch, whatever you wanna get. The witch, I haven’t seen her in a high moon but I left a little message in her apartment. But I’m glad I caught you two here together.” He stood stiffly from the stairs, evidence he’d been on his feet traveling back and forth and overseeing island repairs. He looked Mahri’s way with a stretch of shoulders harnessed in light armor with small blades strapped to his ribs. “She’s workin’ on cleanin’ up the books to get the library open. Still haven’t found much on the archives from the parasite’s ploy.” But that was a subject far from any priority, for now. “If I’ma be keepin’ an eye on things an’ handling these (censored) sit downs, I’ma need someone to run this place. Nort, you’ll get your cut from the fights, Ma, keepin’ things in check topside an’ maybe searchin’ out some new faces for tenders. A lot up in the air, but what’re yer thoughts?” He wasn’t making any move for the sweet mix in that flask, but made his way behind the three-fingered man’s booth to dig out a pint of whiskey to get him through the rest of the night. Maybe.

Mahri shifted as Leo walked past, noting the stiffness with a frown. "I can do that, yeah. I'll post for bartenders in the paper or something." Reaching into one of the deep pockets of her duster, Mahri pulls out a thin cigarette holder, drew one out and lit it the usual way. It wasn't the same as Leo smoked usually, but she'd offer him one anyway. Blowing a cloud of blue-grey smoke, she says, "Been lookin' at the Trading company, too. Not sure who's runnin' it now, but I was thinkin' of lookin' into it and offerin' to buy the place. Could be useful."

Leoxander hesitated to take it, but he knew Mahri wouldn’t give him anything he had any deadly allergies to, and grasped her hand to share her little magic spark. Speaking around the cigarette, he leaned back and took a drag, inspecting it between callused thumb and forefinger as the flavor was drawn over his tongue and into his lungs. “That sounds like a plan. We’re gonna have more cargo comin’ in an’ right now we’re the only flag permitted to dock Cenril for shipment. “You want the place, we’ll make sure you get it. “He glances toward Nortengaal. “Guess that makes us partners, then. I know I can trust you with the place…” If not, not hellfire or walls of ice would stop him from getting revenge for the only place he’d ever truly called home, beside his ship. “Can’t keep you in that closet though. Was a temporary fix.”

Nortengaal nods along with Leo’s words, taking his flask back and having another, almost unbelievably long pull from it before he slips it back into it’s holster at his waist. Gods bless magical containers. And his mother for knowing how to make them, among other useful things. Eyeing Mahri’s fancy smokes holder, he almost asks for one before remembering he currently has his own herbal blend to enjoy, and he retrieves his own slim wood and metal smoke box from the back pocket of his pants. Extracting a slim, rather fragrant rolled smoke, he lights it using a similar trick to Mahri’s and inhales deeply, followed by a slow exhale upwards so as to not be rude and blow smoke in his companions faces. “Oh, i wouldnt dream of it Leo. Matter of fact, Bil and I have had a few chats now about my ideas for the place and his thoughts on those ideas. He’ll likely be running the betting booth - “ he pauses here, considering something a moment. “And the merch area, which is a thing i honestly hadnt considered, merch that is.” Another slow inhale and exhale. “I might know a person or two who could make for good extra security, should we come to need that sort of thing.” At the mention of being partners, and being trusted with such an important place, Nort cant help but to smile. To think, it feels like it was scarcely a year ago when Nortengaal had been out wandering the wilds, aimless. And now he’s part of something bigger than himself, but also deeply personal. Tears dont quite form, but his eyes do take on a little more shine than usual for a moment or two. Then he chuckles and shrugs a bit. “Oh, i dont mind the closet. It’s cozy.” He cocks his head to the side, thinking. “That said…while i extremely appreciate all the space that’s been shared with me, i would like to have a place to truly call my own.”

Mahri's rather excited to have a place of her own to run and, well, conduct business as well. "Thanks, Boss. Until then I can manage this place, too. Rug and I can work well enough together." Speaking of, her attention shifts to the bear, "I do like what you're doing with the place." Getting up from her spot, Mahri sticks her cigarette in the corner of her mouth to dust herself off a bit then goes back to leaning against that post. At least now she's a couple inches taller and doesn't feel quite so dwarfed by the males present. "Anything else we need to know? Keep an eye on or out for?"

Leoxander chuffed a short breath of laughter at Nortengaal mentioning the betting booth. “Just expect Trix to show up now and then an’ try to make a little side profit. Wards ain’t gonna do much ‘gainst her if she’s up to her usual out o’ pocket chaos.” He gave the two ample time to spill their dreams and plans, he responded to each in turn. “We’ll find you some space nearby. There’s plenty vacant in the city but I’d rather you closer to the rest of us.” Turning his attention to Mahri with another drag from that smoke. “Maybe we can get you set up upstairs at the post, though I know you got a place or two to hang yer blades. My next order of business is to get these clenched up ‘rynvalian’ scouts on board or replace ‘em. Don’t care for a bunch of extra eyes where we don’t need ‘em.” One more drag and he just rolled up the nub left to snub it out, as if he couldn’t feel the burn of it. “When all’s said an squared up, we should throw an opening at the pub. Get ‘em all drunk and throw them in the pit.” A shadow of a wolfish smirk came with that last comment as he washed it away with a drink from his glass pint.

This is a Rogue's Guild RP.