RP:The Proposal

Location: Broken Barrel Inn The laws of the land do not apply to this establishment, yet somehow there is order among chaos. Aged, abused by the weather, the Broken Barren Inn stands defiantly against the stormy shores of Rynvale just off the dock, but it is a place far from welcoming. The split, oak carved sign hangs sideways on only one chain, irony not quite lost in the words tarnished by rain. Through that open door barely sitting on it’s hinges, the light of a blazing fire reflects across a dingy interior made to look more wealthy with trinkets. The walls are covered with artifacts and cheap glamour from other worldly locations and ports; rusted weapons and sea-monster fishing lure, ship wheels, a gold-braided rope, the mounted bones of an aquatic creature with seven limbs, tapestries and carvings of various culture, and instruments that no one could know how to play. Centering all of this is Redbeard’s Maiden, herself: a sultry, golden-haired mermaid bust with red painted lips and a beckoning smile, caught in a net draped to the rafters. Mounted to the wall not far behind, a fish-like tail adorned by flawlessly painted emerald scales stretches out behind her. For every first tankard bought in the Broken Barrel she is afforded a salute, a custom that Simon, the bar’s general, has not allowed to die over the years. Dominating the center of this room is an impressive four-sided bar, flanked by booths along all ways, each lit by a hanging candelabra of worked iron. Gatherings of shady sailors and outlaws collect in groups, keeping the atmosphere noisy with harmonica and bagpipe while others plot their next dastardly scheme. While invited to venture upstairs, wandering toward the cellar door might earn you a few dirty looks.

Finn was the darker shadow in an already dark corner of the taproom. The hour was late..late enough to be long past the time when the legitimate citizens of the island had pulled shutters closed and snuffed the flames out within their lanterns; late enough for the sordid underbelly of the southern shores to have come alive, revealing the murderin' thieves, drunkards and whores that were so very carefully masqueraded during the daylight hours. The rogue felt very at home. A tankard of ale was lifted by a broad tanned hand to a pair of firm lips, set for the moment grimly within his rugged face. She was late-if she intended to come at all. Why he was sure that she would show, he was not entirely certain- but as it were, there was little enough else to do this eve. He had completed the night's run, and returned as was his habit to the Barrel, to find none but the veriest scum of Rynvale present. Strong fingers absentmindedly threaded through the coarse, jet fur of the wolf who shared his booth, dark head astraddle the runner's thighs, as his gold flecked eyes kept careful watch of the night's merrymaking. Each movement at the door would draw idle gaze, before the some new distraction lured attention its way again. He was oddly content. Life was most..satisfying at the moment.

Mellie was hesitant, one hand gripping the delapidated door of the broken down inn and pub, the other balled into a diminuitive fist at her side. Would he be here? Why did she even care? This could be a trap. No. He said he'd be here, and she was here because she needed answers! If he had wanted to see her hanged or handless, he would have exposed her for what she was when he had the chance. This mental tug of war continued for what seemed a very long time, before eventually a group of local drunkards and riffraff came up behind her, aiming to top off their buzz. A few had their arms draped over the shoulders of a whore (or two in one case), while the others leered at the young thief with missing teeth and foul breath. "C'mon in darlin'!" One crowed in his drunken slur. Mellie shuddered delicately, but smiled kindly all the same and followed the lead in. One problem down, now if she could just find -him-. Baby blues flicked feverishly around the crowded inn, looking for that face that had haunted her thoughts and dreams since that day. And then, a splotch of auburn caught her eye...and her breath. Mellie straightened the opened collar on her clean, form-fitting blouse, and smoothed the black, side-split skirt to reassure herself of her appearance. Just as she moved to place a leather booted foot forward, her arm was snatched up by one of the toothless sailors. "Ww-where ya goin' off ta?" he shouted. The young thief's hand fell to her side, fingers feeling along the top of her thigh where the split ended, tracing the outline of the hidden dagger.

Finn's hazel gaze had found the door-again at the sounding of drunken celebration and had already begun its slide away from the all too common sight, when instinct gave him pause and he allowed gold flecked irises to track their way to the small group once more. He felt a spike of satisfaction. Really, he should be a betting man..though he'd almost thought to lose this night's wager made with himself. He leaned back in the booth, booted ankles crossed, the dark fingers of one hand idly making a gold coin dance over and under his knuckles, back and forth in a soothing rhythm. She stood out in the crowd of slatterns..the would be thief..and was dressed entirely to nicely for this lot, she was like to become a mark herself, and for all the wrong reasons. It would seem the runner's instincts bore true, for no sooner had the thought surfaced, that the petite female found herself engaged by the most distasteful of company. Finn's eyes narrowed slightly in the dark, the gold piece stilling in its circuit a beat before starting anew. In his lap, Bane raised a dark head, feral eyes glimmering yellow in the lantern light as he turned to look in the direction that seemed to so captivate his master. They were attuned, beast an master, after years in each other's company. A low rumble sounded in the chest of the wolf. When Finn was unhappy, so was Bane. " I'd be thinkin' twice about what you've got a mind to be doin' mate.." The husky drawl was laced with the promise of punishment if heed were not taken to the directive. " She's one of my assets..lay off." Not true..yet..but it would do to grant her clear passage to his table. Unless the man was a fool.

Mellie drew her painted lips back over her teeth in an unbecoming grimace, those fingers still dancing eagerly across the outline of her dagger. How she wished for a fight this night...almost thirsted for it. Probably just the rush of adrenaline, but still, it was not at all an unpleasant feeling; like the rush of almost getting caught. The drunkard grinned his toothless grin, tightening his grip upon the girl's arm, until a certain voice rung out true and clear above the roar of the crowd. He stared off in the direction from whence it came -Mellie stretched up on her toes to view, as well- and abruptly dropped her arm. There was a certain air of respect shown toward Finn from this crew; their smiles all wiping clean, heads ducking, and feet rushing on to their prior destination. Mellie cleared her throat, shot a dagger of a glare at the still dumbfounded male, and moved to approach where the rogue sat so calmly with his beast. "I would say thank you," began the soprano, "but I'm unsure as of yet whether or not it's deserved. What's your aim, stranger?" Skuttling up behind her, the familiar tan ferret moves into position at his mistress' feet, trembling with the fear of being in such intimidating company as the wolf, a much bigger predator and carnivore. Mellie would wait until the offer was made before she seated herself at the booth.

The offer would not come, or rather, not with words. Booted ankles were uncrossed briefly and one of the loose chairs currently positioned against the outer edges of the table, nudged in her direction. The scraping sound roused the wolf again, who eyed the small tan critter at the woman's side with baleful disinterest before lowering his head again. Those strong fingers reached between dark ears to stroke an idle pattern as the runner watched the woman..(girl really?) take her seat. " Thanks are wasted in our world darlin,' nothin' in life is ever free..or have you not been alive long enough to discover that?" He took the sting out of otherwise ominous words with a not so subtle wink and the flash of too white teeth. "Still..I suppose I could say you're welcome.. what're you drinkin?" He deliberately left the more significant part of the question unanswered for the time being.

Mellie would not be distracted. She came here with a purpose, and had no intentions of leaving without it being fulfilled. Dainty hands smooth down her skirt as she takes the offered chair, drawing one leg over the other and allowing the split in her skirt to fall open, revealing a sun-bathed limb, and the very tip of a silver point. From there, they folded amongst themselves atop the table between the two. One corner of the teen's lips pulled up into a lopsided grin of amusement at the rogue's wise words. "I've been alive long enough to know better, but not long enough to give a sh..." But her words were interrupted as Nabit leaped into her lap and curled up, comforted by the apparent disinterest the wolf showed. The thief took in a deep breath of the ale and sweat scented air, then responded with, "I'll have what you're havin', if you don't mind. And then I'll be havin' that answer." Referring of course to the one that he had so skillfully dodged. She leaned forward on the table, lowering her voice to barely more than a whisper and seeking to hold his hazel stare within her own. "Asset?" She repeated his earlier term questioningly.

The gold piece hitched in its rhythmic cycle again- she had nice legs..for a kid- and then resumed its course before being finally flipped into the air and caught, only to be placed at the edge of the table just in time for the attention of the passing barmaid to be captured. " The island blend.." order was placed with a quiet murmur and an appreciative moment spent in observation of the female's own amply displayed 'assets' as she moved away. It'd been too long since a female had warmed his sheets...he was getting to be worse that Bane around a bitch in heat. A self deprecating grin tugged at lips in a tanned face before his gaze was drawn towards his current and more pressing engagement, a nod of acknowledgement given to her claim to experience. "Aye..asset." His expression was suddenly serious, as ever he was on matters of business. " I've a mind to expand my...business. I might have use for individuals with your.. skills-though I suppose I'd actually have to see 'em in place first. Sorta lost it on the fruit stall gig as I recall." Hazel gaze pinned her to the chair. The truth might sting..but it would appear she was not a terribly good thief as he'd yet to determine. As if to clarify in the event that she might not understand, he would add a clipped comment. " I'm lookin' to run a crew on the Shores.. up in the shopping district. All the fancy lords and ladies lookin' to splurge after the wars will be ripe for the pickin'"

Mellie watched the way her company so bluntly ogled the other females in the area, and noted how they were all too eager to soak up the given attention. Just business? Possibly. She'd been known to flaunt certain things herself to get what she wanted. Her focus only became more starved as the rogue explained in that husky voice; her interest piqued. A fingernail tapped delicately against the front of her teeth, faltering in rhythm at the mention of the fruit-stand incident. Not one of her finest moments. A light warmth rushed her youthful features, but she straightened her back and lowered her shoulders stubbornly. "Mm. Well, you've given me somethin' to think on, then. Of course, I'm not admitting to anything you think you might have seen," Pig-headed to the end. "But I've gotten what I came for." Ignoring the fact that a drink was just ordered for her, she stood to her feet, arms cradling the beloved ferret close to her body, just under her ample bosom. The teen's curves were more pronounced in this ensemble than they were in that cloak and dark clothing...perhaps she wasn't as young as she put on. Would she ever admit? Probably not. "I know where to find you," was all that was left to be said, as far as she was concerned. Heeled, leather boots pivoted perfectly, spinning the thief in an about face and carrying her back the way she came. However, just at the door, Mellie did steal one more glimpse of the rogue over her shoulder, and flashed that crooked grin. She'd be back.