RP:The Nap before the Storm

This is a Rogue's Guild RP.

Location: The Jolly Roger

Summary: Lita and Leo ponder over Gorehilt’s absence and other uncertainties, past and present.

The Jolly Roger, Rynvale

Lita is dressed in more usual attire. Little black sundress, bare feet, familiar leather bracer on her left forearm. Raven curls tied into a loose braid over her shoulder with stray curls framing her face. A sketchbook in one hand and a pencil tucked behind her ear. She's both surprised and a little glad to find the JR a bit more quiet at such an hour. She snags a bottle of whiskey and a glass from the bar before making herself comfortable on the couch. Pours herself a glass and opens the sketchbook to a more recent project, mulling over it as she takes a drink.

Leoxander finally had a chance to change out of that button down black shirt and was in the ‘lucky’ one again, which was that stained wife beater with a tear in the lower back where a knife had plunged through. He looked a little worn and there was some worry in his sharp stare, but overall he seemed in a relatively neutral mood as he pushed open the door to the warehouse pub and caught sight of Lita shortly after her scent. A glance divided her way though his first stop was the bar to retrieve a tumbler of his own, carrying it empty to the couch where he flopped down beside her and reached for her bottle to pour himself a sorely needed medicating dose from it. Resting back in the corner of that tattered seating, he watched her sketch a moment if she continued and took a drink from his cut glass, not speaking just yet.

Lita glances up at the pirate's entrance, who's also looking far more comfortable in his usual attire, but he seems on a mission for that bar just now so she halts any greeting. She nudges the bottle of whiskey in his direction across the table as he joins her. She's been working on, tweaking and generally changing the idea for Spike's tattoo since the beach bash. She'd had a few idea and had been steadily narrowing them down and combining them. But it isn't quite right, yet. With Leo making himself comfy, she offers a little sigh and leans back against the opposite arm of the couch so she can face him, lifting her knees so her toes settle on his thigh. She reaches for her glass, cradling it in both hands as she takes another sip. "You want to talk about it?" She wasn't sure what 'it' might be for him tonight but she could lend an ear.

Leoxander plucked at a couple of her toes at first before he absently began to squeeze her foot, offering a bit of a massage and in turn using her bare foot like a stress ball, making sure not to break any metatarsals in the process. He took a drink and glanced from her sketchbook to dark eyes, then just… elsewhere, across the space. Eventually landing on the stock of everclear he’d lined up on the shelves that hadn’t been touched. “Actually, somethin’s been eatin’ at me. We haven’t seen Spike in a while.” He really had no idea that Lita was working on something for said half-orc. But they lived on the same island, had lived similar lives, so it only made sense they traveled on the same rail of thought now and then. One of many reasons he trusted her to keep their paradise in balance. “You had any word from him?”

Lita attempts to tuck her toes under Leo's leg but won't complain about a massage. She appreciates the lack of broken toes any day though. She watches him carefully, following his gaze towards the overstocked shelves and then glancing at her sketchbook before taking another sip of whiskey and meeting his gaze again. "Not since the beach thing. Figured you an' Nort were keepin' him busy here, but," she shares that gnawing feeling in her gut Leo seems to get sometimes, "guess not." She'd been busy, so had Leo. Had they been too busy to keep tabs on one of their own? The sinking feeling gnaws dangerously close to guilt. The whiskey helps. "I'd be worried about him gettin' caught up in political shyte if he was a vampire or even a mage maybe. I know he's got a mouth sometimes but I'd assume anybody wanting to make some example of him would have sent some sort of word by now?"

Leoxander raised his shoulder in time with the slight lift of his glass in a half shrug. “That was pro’lly the plan, but he up an’ vanished. Thought you two had yer fix after the fight, an’ he seemed chipper at the beach scene. I been gone a haulin’ half Lora’s family across since the drow’s theatrics but… even before that…” He glanced back Lita’s way. “They likely would’a used him in some leverage by now, but I don’t see our orc leanin’ into this war the mainland’s stirrin’ up…” He finished off his drink quickly, reaching for the bottle on the table for a refill. “An’ that bloody horse would’a at least found its way back here for some fuel if it could, don’t you think? I ain’t known him long, but I feel like he’d have given us some kind’a heads up if he decided to up an’ wander.”

Lita furrows her brow. "He was chipper at the beach scene. I mean, I know we had our tiff, but we buried the hatchet and made things right between us." There was a dance and everything, after all. "No, I agree, I don't see him goin' to bat for anyone else. At least, not unless for this place, y'know?" She offers a brief smile because what she really means is for Leo. "I assume Cinderback not being around might mean they're together at least. But it is strange, that he'd leave without saying something. Hell, if anybody would understand the need to run, it'd be us lot, yeah?" She flexes her fingers around her glass, tapping idly at the rim. "Think it's time we start kicking some rocks?"

Leoxander nodded along with Lita’s confirmation that all was good as far as the rogue alliance went. Not that they would ever call themselves that. “Passed time. I got a wedding comin’ up but Suo-... Loravelle knows my priorities, and we need to keep this family an’ this community we’ve got together, Ace.” Leaning back again with a hand on the top of her ankle unless she’d managed to tuck them away under the warmth of his leg, he took a drink from his refilled glass. “Also…” He set his glass on the table once he finished it off. “We got a few from Cenril visitin’. Dezerae’s ‘round here somewhere, an’ Khitti should be comin’ over soon to put some wards on the ships. Maybe Nort’s base for the fights an’ a few other places we could use them. I know a lot of us ain’t exactly fond of the magicworks, but… I’m not gonna see another Parasite or vain noble try to uproot this place from us.” Back to the topic at hand. Gorehilt. “Any idea where we start? He likely had some history in Gualon but my gut tells me he wouldn’t give up this to go back to that.”

Lita is more than willing to help ease tension where she can. Especially with everything else on the pirate's plate just now. "Let's not get rash with the wedding plans just yet. Let's assume he's on some extended bender somewhere, enjoying a few worthwhile companions, yeah?" She attempts a smile, trying to be reassuring. "I can ask around. I'll find Nort, ask him some questions. I know they were gettin' pretty chummy. Been meaning to drop some supplies at the hq anyway, so I'll poke around Gualon some too while there." She finishes off her drink and leans forward to snag the bottle and refill her glass. She'll offer to refill his too while at it before settling back into a comfy seat. "If Khitti's warding your new place, feel free to have her add the beach house to that list." She might be one not fond of magics but she loved the beach house more. Had no intention of seeing it swallowed whole. She's quiet a minute, staring down at her glass in hand before she asks, "You think he's alright?"

Leoxander took that refill, and her mention of the beach villa being warded was acknowledged with a nod. If it wasn’t asking too much, he probably would have had the witch ward half the south end of that island, but he wasn’t about to let its inhabitants and defenders get lazy. It seemed half the rest of the world had with their ballroom events and happy gatherings, and while it was a nice change of pace from being on constant guard and suspicion, it was the responsibility of him and the woman beside him on the couch not to let Rynvale fall into those habits of thinking things couldn’t go wrong. He decided to confide in Lita after a moment, after a drink from his glass. “Never really thought this would actually happen. Thought about it a lot, when the elf was governor. When we fought off Larket an’ the Empire…” A deep breath preceded a heavy sigh. “We sure got a helluva lot to fight for now, don’t we?” Blue eyes traveled her way with his head rested back and turned on the top of that chewed up couch.

Lita hadn't been involved as much with the island when Arien was governor. She'd kept to herself a lot more then, with Finn and Hanan and Alaine, more focused on trying to find the pieces of her past than looking to her future. She hadn't even banked on having a future on the island. And yet here she was, a decade and more later. "And then some." She agrees with Leo, about what they've to fight for. Each day seemed like they were adding people to that list, however loose the affiliation. It was luck that made them both good at spottin' people worth knowin'. "I didn't think I'd find anything here after Hanan left. With everyone else gone. It means somethin' to see so much life back in this place. Back at the beach house and at the shop." She leans forward and turns a bit, shifting so she can lean back against him and nestle into the warmth of him, pressing her toes against the arm of the couch where her back had been previously. "I know I'm a helluva lot to put up with but I hope you know I'm glad you do. I don' take it lightly."

Leoxander offered an arm around her shoulder to welcome her in, resting it loosely to hand off her opposite shoulder. “Always knew you were worth the trouble, Ace. Seems you felt the same about me.” Yeah, they had that kiss in their recent past, and he was a little troubled it had cost her the trust of what seemed to be a decent man, but anyone who didn’t understand the pirate’s ties to people who meant so much to him in the past… well, they’d just find themselves a bit disappointed, because he wasn’t about to abandon those ties made. He had a lot to tell Lora’ at that point, and would take his friend’s advice not to let it wait too long, but he had faith she would understand. He had to, for once. “Her sisters are settled up. Might be a good time for you an’ I and a few extra claws to dig into some dirt an’ find out where our greenskin’s gone off to.”

Lita is grateful he hadn't really brought up the kiss. Or the dragon. Neither of which she'd any particular interest in rehashing. She should have been more upset at the latter. And maybe if she stopped long enough to think about it, she would be. But there were ingredients to round up for Kas, trade routes with Vailkrin to sort through, whatever the hell that play was about and now an orc to find. Not to mention Mahri. "You're alright I guess." She offers a grin, glancing up at him as she lifts her glass for a drink. "But yes to finding Spike." That might have to get bumped above Kas, even, for now. "You want me to rope Mah and Nort into this?" She wasn't sure how Leo and Mah had settled with all those revelations about the pirate's past. They'd work it out, she'd no doubt, the only question was when. "You an' her okay?" She asks, a bit hesitant, not trying to step on any toes.

Leoxander glanced down at her, then back across the spacious warehouse room, taking a drink just before a nod to her second to last question concerning Mahri and Nortengaal. “Yeah. Somethin’ tells me we’ll need a few extra pieces on the board if things are ugly.” He leaned forward against her, squishing her up against his chest or shoulder as he set his glass emptied for the second time on the table, and leaned back to prop a boot against the edge or leg of it. “Me an’ who? Lora’? We’re fine.” He didn’t realize she might be talking about Mahri, but really, his fellow alpha had been through a few storms with him and they always managed to survive. His other limb not attached to the hand idly toying with the end of Lita’s braid rested on the arm of the battered furniture.

Lita mumbles a complaint as he moves, huffing as if she's being squished and then resettles against him as a makeshift couch. "No, you an' Mah. Things got pretty tense at the beach thing, seemed like." She wasn't sure how much she was supposed to know, or how much Leo wanted her to know. His business was his own but she'd a right to check in on him as her friend, whether he wanted it or not. "Just meanin' if you ever wanna talk about it, I'll listen. Or I can pin yah down for some fresh ink," she offers a playful grin and a little shrug. "Dealer's choice, really."

Leoxander was quiet for a while. He’d said some words to the Cat, but she was originally the one that clued him into the gap in his memories that he could not recall beyond fragments, like something exploded sending pieces scattered across the map. “More about what you confirmed. That I’ve got a daughter out there somewhere. Still hard to imagine…” He wanted another drink, now, but was too comfortable in her contrast to his high running body temperature to move. The last week had been draining, mentally and physically, but nothing he wouldn’t recover from. “After we fig’er this (censored) out, that’ll be some reason for some ink therapy…” When he knew where Gorehilt was, and where their loyalties lied, if any, in what seemed a small pending war. When he knew how Loravelle might react to knowing he had a child out there, somewhere. “You min’ if I jus’ rest my eyes a minute?” He sank a little deeper on the couch, arm loose in case she sought to escape.

Lita doesn't find it so hard to imagine Leo with a daughter out there somewhere. Maybe because she'd had a son out there at some point too. She's not sure what's worse though, knowin' they're out there or knowin' they're not. She finishes her own drink in lieu of a response. She's of no pressing mind to move just yet. He's warm and comfortable and for this moment, there's a safety in that. "Not at all." She murmurs. "I got yah, Cap'n." It wasn't a nickname she'd use in public for him, not because he hadn't earned it or didn't deserve it, but because it was what she'd called Hanan once upon a time. But it's important, all the same. She reaches a little for her sketchbook without leaning too far, opening it across her knee to a clean page so she can sketch a little while he snoozes some. She didn't mind keeping watch, especially not with sleep eluding her these days. And if anyone deserved some good sleep, it was the pirate.