RP:Unfinished Business

Part of the Seven Dwarves All Around Me Arc

This is a Rogue's Guild RP.

Summary: Between fights in the Titans of Winter Tournament, Eleanor shows off the Rogue's Guild's newest business venture, and Leoxander comes up with a painfully bold plan to attract the attention of their elusive enemy, The Oracle.

The Office, North Cenril

The Office is on the classier end of seedy cabaret/exotic dancing establishments. Which is to say that it boasts an actual chef, as in a person who studied to make food, and has enough bouncer presence on the floor to offer at least some low alcohol content beverages. Similar to other establishments of this nature, it's got your well-lit stage, poles, a diverse cast of dancing women, and surrounding them a population of tables, velvet wing-back chairs, couches, and people who've got nothing better to do (most of them men). Along one of the walls, by the stage, is an opening into a narrow corridor that leads to the dressing rooms for the girls, a lived-in manager's office, and a door with a stairwell that descends to what must be a basement.

Eleanor; The Queen of Rogues lost her grin entirely as Leo drew attention to the blackness that still ensorcelled her left hand. Part of her was — true to her stubbornness — inclined to snipe and snark and say something like, 'Ah'm fine.' But a more significant part of her was stilled by the concern, moved by Hound and all his hounding. Although a frown had begun to form, she pursed her full lips into a thin line and nodded soberly. "Aye," she relented, the line giving way to a faint if wry smirk. "Ah hink Ah ken th' lassie in yer heed." She had not met the healer directly, but Emilia was no stranger to Lithrydel's grapevine. Eleanor's glove remained, though, for now. And there still was a defiant tilt to her chin as she regarded the wolf steadily. "Th' Office, 'en. Uir mukker is waitin'." Her gaze followed sharply after Leo when he moved to the door, but before he was allowed to turn the knob, she brushed him aside and did the honors. El wasn't really in the mood for a light stroll through town, she was itching to get her fingers dirty, and so it should be no surprise when she took the lead and opened the loft door into the manager's office of The Office directly. It was dark and quiet inside, although some music could be heard coming from the lobby. The spellrogue wasted no time in sparking up a blue light, throwing the orb above her, where it hovered like a will-o'-the-wisp as she began to rummage through the desk drawers. Perhaps she didn't want anyone knowing she had arrived, but she offered up no explanation.

Leoxander figured out her plot the moment she gestured him aside, and although it was only a short few blocks, he had no complaints to spare the leg that had suffered a few blades and an aptly named heel tear, even if there wasn’t much of a limp left in his gait. He idly paced the room as she searched through the desk that had been returned to its rightful place, although the markings on the floor where it had torn across wood were possibly still visible, maybe even a few wounds to the walls. Although he tried to keep busy while also keeping alert, the bodyguard she didn’t need, he watched her rifle through papers and it brought the memories flooding back, his aggressive reaction to a truth he didn’t want to hear, invading her desk in an invasion of privacy to find the name of the man he still probably intended to kill. Any shelves that might exist in the manager’s office were scanned and maybe a container that once harbored some dusty substance not legal in the eyes of the law and after making certain it didn’t smell of pixie, scooped a finger around the bottom for just a hint of the bitter taste. The small jar was placed back exactly where it fit into what might be a subtle ring of dust and he leaned against the wall, no bow on his back to jab into healing bruises, arms folding across his chest with his jacket open and a hint of blue glowing through the fabric of the shirt beneath. “We got a lotta unfinished business, here.” The solemn expression had settled over on his features, a hand raising from it’s tuck into arm to scratch at the stubble growing back in. Maybe he meant their mark, the Oracle, or the retrieval of her companion Tiger. But something about his low tone that barely concealed a growl in that deep pitch revealed that it was still a struggle to know a particular target was still breathing out there, somewhere.

Eleanor did not need to raise her guarded green stare toward Leoxander in order to sense it; something had shifted in the air once they'd crossed the threshold into that stilted space, and it had stirred up enough of something that she nevertheless did bring those cautious eyes aloft, settling on the blue suggested through his shirt. Her movements had slowed a pace, thrown off by whatever she felt along that runic bond, and she swallowed, her lashes fluttering, before resuming her search. When she finally spoke, she kept her eyes low, reading through the contents of a manila envelope she had strewn out across the desk's surface. "Ah suppose that's an understatement, althoogh yoo'll hae tae be mair specific, loove." The muscle in her jaw feathered, and she exhaled through her nose, nostrils flaring subtly. Whatever was on that piece of paper seemed to be the object of her exploration, and she quickly began to fold it up with the aim of sticking it into her belt, full of its hidden compartments and secrets. Instead, she dropped the half-folded sheet on the desk and placed all ten fingertips against the desk as she elevated her piercing celadon stare toward him. "Aye, Leo?"

Leoxander had been relaxed. Healed, tended to, fed and washed. He’d had bells of bliss in the last two moons and that wasn’t to be spoiled by that unfamiliar tightness in his chest that carried several sins in it’s coils. Envy. Lust. Greed. Pride. Wrath. Nearly a full wheel of crime that kept his hellfire stoked and saintly gates above forever closed off to his stained soul. Subtly happened to be a strong suit on him, but the way those eyes flashed a wolf’s gold for a moment so brief it might be made of imagination and his black look, she could probably guess without him pouring into the details of his thoughts. Still, they were here for a purpose, and his own animosity was low on their list of priorities. “You promise me one thing, Eleanor. I’ve kept mine.” His vow to stay. To earn that trust back. To be entitled to a rank among her rogues. To fight for his dignity and shed any weakness he had come to her with in the townhouse, that night of accord. “You see him in the streets, in the shadows. In a goddamned crowd. You point him out to me.” There was alpha coming through in the lone wolf’s blood, again, and to call him a bit possessive of his mate was putting it mildly. That said, he pushed from his lean and sought a flask from inside his jacket, some liquor still salvaged and stored there from his night in the colosseum. “Let’s get movin’ if we’re gonna scout the place before night. You find what you need?” A swift change of subject whether she answered or not, any patience shown in their dusty retreat swiftly draining from the pirate’s demeanor now that they were back to business.

Eleanor kept her stare locked hard onto Leo, her chin low to help those gold lashes curtain her eyes, guarding them against his. As his request came to her, though, she stole her gaze away, snorting derisively. "Ye main be it ay yer gods-damned min', expectin' me tae tryst a hin' loch 'at," the spellrogue's husky tone meted out with acerbic edges. She pushed away from the desk, straightening, in order to cross her sculpted arms under her chest, her left brow arched. "Thaur is nae bludy way Ah'm lettin' ye gang aff oan them." El stood her ground, ignoring the questions he tried to change the subject with; on top of that, she added in a lower, dark tone, "In fact, Ah expect ye tae wark wi' heem next time we hae a chance."

Leoxander; Eleanor earned herself a helluva look from the pirate with those words. Work with him. She might as well be telling him to play a deck of cards with his estranged, royal brother. “So you expect ‘im back, then? Or is that already the case?” His tone was kept fairly level and professional for now, and she needn’t fear a round two of Dal’ken’s interference with that rune on his chest. But he was so bold as to approach her as he took another drink of his tonic and wiped any stray off his unshaven jaw with a once again gloved hand that hid his mark of rage. “Let me take a wild guess. He knows about her. What she is. What she did. More than you can forfeit.” There was no obvious aggression in his tone but the rogue did seek answers now that their trust was true, or at woven into a sturdy line that would hold the weight of their words well enough. “What’re you lookin’ for in those papers?” He gave a significant pause in case she felt it necessary to answer his low spoken assumption, but the question he expected her to finally reveal.

Eleanor lifted her shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. "Ah expect he's aroond," she continued carefully. "An' Ah'll see heem when Ah need tae see heem." The spellrogue lowered her chin, regarding her partner through that guarded fringe of gold. "Nope, he doesnae hae onie feckin' scooby abit onie ay 'at." She snorted softly, her chin rising a few degrees to meet him as he approached. "Ye pure wanna gang doon thes road wi' me, Leo? Ah tauld ye 'en, an' Ah'll teel ye noo." El drew in a slow breath, steeling herself. "Ah will teel ye everythin', but there's wee tae ken." The expression she gave him in the arcane blue light was still as cautious as ever, her lips pressed into a thoughtful pucker; but her eyes, they had softened, as much as they could in his presence, as much as he had yielded to hers. "But he knows ay mah business wi' Hudson ... tae a certain degree," she told him quietly. "Let's jist say … He has a way ay bein' in th' reit place at th' reit time." Once more, she objected to his attempts to change the subject, but this time it was so that she could take a step closer to him, leaving little space between them to lift her chin in stubbornness, her smile suggestive but knowing, smirking all the while in her pale eyes. "Whatever ye ... feel abit whit Ah did while ye waur gain, weel, ye can jist forgit it." Eleanor kept her voice low, hiding whatever vulnerability she could. "Ah wulnae ... Ah repeat, wulnae play those games, Leoxander." Her grin blossomed into a wide, evident smirk now, and she reached for him, idly and affectedly toying with the lapel of his jacket. "Ye an' Ah, we hae other games we can play." It was only then that she deigned to consider the papers once more, and she tossed her gaze over a shoulder toward the desk. "An address," came her reply, her gaze swiveling forward to meet his again. "Ye ready?"

Leoxander made that sound for a moment. That low rumble deep in his chest buried where her rune marked his sternum. Something about her seeing him when she needed to didn’t settle well in the dominant wolf that had bonded, finally, with an equally dominant man, but promises would be kept and trust maintained. He stood his ground on her approach, letting her reach and clutch his collar and say what she needed to say, perhaps what he inevitably needed to hear. But in answer to that last question, in the blue light of her wisp, he found his right hand clutching roughly into her drying hair for a grip that attempted to force her in so he could assault her with an unpolished kiss that took her taste and might swell her lips a bit, should he get away with it. And he wasn’t an easy forfeit in any kind of duel. It broke with the sting of liquor from his tongue and a few scratches around her mouth in his wake, untangling digits from flaxen strands as he answered her shortly but more calmly. “Yep.” Another flicker of green and gold from the rogue's eyes as he turned, but once again he let her lead the way in case she willed another shortcut across the map necessary.

Unnamed Property, South Cenril

Eleanor's nostrils flared at that sound, but she didn't withdraw, and when Leo moved in, asserting his claim on her, so to speak - well, the spellrogue responded quickly. Her hands snaked up from his collar, roughly weaving and curling into his rough-shorn hair, and she gave into the kiss as much as he demanded from it. Every bit of her was engaged, drawing in the taste of him and by the time they parted, El's breathing was ragged. And she smirked, pale eyes narrowed. "Guid." And she meant it on many levels as she dipped her chin in a confirming nod. Leo was smart to yield the path to her, and she moved around him toward the door — yet not without brushing against him, that playful spark back to her eyes when they caught his on the way by. Once her hands had reached the knob of the door, her palm was giving off a blue glow through her black leather glove. The portal-magick was the same each time, but Eleanor had only traveled to this place once. Once was all it took to take them into the next room and the spellrogue brought the floating blue light with them, throwing it ahead with a flick of her wrist. It bounded through the room ahead of them, illuminating a low, wide room, several stony pillars throughout casting long shadows around. The ground was stone and sawdust, and as El ventured into the area, she picked up the smell of sweat and blood, casting a glance over her shoulder toward Leoxander, presuming it would be the same for him. Her smirk grew. With another quick gesture of her hands, the orb split into four, spreading out into the quadrants of the room, each as empty as the last, and as Eleanor approached the center, she turned toward the wolf. "Welcome tae uir newest property," the rogue grinned, her hands finding her hips. "Sae … It mauna swatch loch much haur," El swept a hand toward the subterranean room they had entered. "But abune," she pointed up, "thaur ur fightin' pens, room fur dormitories." Her sculpted shoulders rolled in a shrug, her hand returning to her hip. "Ah plan tae hire oan aicht," eight, "able-bodied fighters, fur which Ah'll use yer help fur. We'll feed them, clothe them. Lit them barnie fur gauld an' glory…" Much like Leo had done so recently, and come out victorious in. "But th' real draw — th' real gauld haur," or so the queen of rogues hoped, "Will be in leasin' out these fighters ... lettin' fowk bid oan them in an auction, tae barnie in their nam — ur oan th' down-law, if they'd prefer." Her dark grin understood. "Payin' generoosly fur th' opportunity tae dae sae, an' tak' a portion ay th' winnings." Of course, all of this would not be performed by Eleanor directly, but that was where their 'mukker' came in. "Whit dae ye hink?"

Leoxander tried to fight that pull off a slight smirk but it was a losing battle as she brushed past him in that intentional way. There had been a time or two when Leo had fallen victim to a trap by someone he trusted, but there was no hesitance as he crossed through that portal and into the room that became illuminated with her blue arcane lighting. At first, his brow was furrowed as his nocturnal eyes grazed across the scene, but that smell… that familiar smell of spit and sweat and testosterone was not lost on the lycan. The darkness left his eyes for a hint of curiosity as he pushed the tread of his boot into some of that well-crafted pit of grains and chips meant to soak up spilled blood. “I take it you think I might have a knack for this fightin’ business…” The end of his statement didn’t come across as a question. He wasn’t boasting it, but Leo had earned his title, win or lose against the Blue Demon. Leo tried to hide the amused light that spilled back into his eyes as he circled the arena and glanced up as though he could see the barracks she described. “I think it’s overdue, an’ I think we’ll be pretty damn wealthy ‘fore long. The ship’ll be handy fillin’ supplies and bodies in but we can work on both.” It was another distraction from their war against the Oracle, and as he landed his gaze on her, he added as gently as possible. “I also think it couldn’t hurt to have the queen and her cat on a throne to enjoy the show.” He was already envisioning the pit, Eleanor’s rightful perch, his roam through the crowds to keep the underground entertainment flowing, and the chaos roaring. Crows in the congregation, watching. “This ain’t the jewelry mart…” He added, wondering if she had used that to conceal the surprise, or if this was another pitstop on the way.

Eleanor; "Ah pure techt," she said, moseying closer to him, "findin' others worth puttin' bunsens oan, an usin' these fightin' skills tae help strengthen uir numbers." Her smirk remained throughout her pointed nod, and her hands found his lapels again, toying with them in that distracting way of hers. When she lifted her gaze toward his, her smirk broadened a subtle degree; well, subtle to those that didn't know her as well as Leo certainly did. But then as quickly as it had grown, it faded entirely. Her eyes darkened. "Nae sign ay 'at feckin' huir." The words spilled out of her like venom, and she all but missed his mention of the jewelry mart. "If she doesnae shaw up in th' next fortnecht, if ... yer shaw didne draw 'er in. Weel." Eleanor snorted. "Ah hae an idea hoo we micht finally gie 'er attention."

Leoxander saw the change in her expression and demeanor, but it didn’t wilt his entirely. “I do.” He said to the last of her statements. “That last fight is gonna draw a good load of attention this week. I ain’t afraid to call her out right there in the arena. She wants to hurt you, an’ I’m fairly sure she’ll know one way to do that is to get to me.” It was an idea tossed up as he approached the spellrogue with his expression stoic but focused again. “She don’t know enough about me to consider me any more than bait. My guess is she’s already had someone watchin’ the last of it once I brought the wolf into the yard. Or the shadows.” Maybe not the best plan, but tracking, searching, hunting had given little benefit thus far. And perhaps Eleanor might recognize that it showed that bit of loyalty that he was willing to take the risk. “Just have to be subtle. Somethin’ only she’ll hear.” He watched her expression to try to read her thoughts before she spoke them, but even with that rune sometimes he couldn’t predict what the spellrogue was thinking.

Eleanor would be lying if she liked any of what Leo was saying - but she also saw, and trusted entirely, that he knew what the feck he was doing. She lowered her hands from his lapel, resting them on his chest, and she drew in a deep, agitated breath. Lifting her gaze, it was hard not to curl her lip; not at him, but his plan. "Ye draw 'er tae yer big shaw," she warned him softly, "ye coods end up losin' mair than ye bargained fur." El pushed out a short huff of a breath, and pulled at Leo's jacket again, a sure sign of her restlessness. "Subtle isnae gonnae cut it wi' 'er anymair," Eleanor admitted, brows furrowed. "If yoo're gonnae gang in, ye need tae gang aw in, loove." Her eyes studied the pulse of blue through his shirt, before she looked up at him again. "Ah'll dae whit Ah can tae support it ... but Ah dornt feckin' loch it."

Leoxander fixed his stare upon Eleanor, and between those moments of aggression and frustration and chaos planning, he lifted his hand to cup her jaw and bring it up to hold it to his, already locked or not. “I’ve only one thing to lose, now. It don’t have damn to do with this fight, or any that come after.” His gaze actually mellowed rather than steeled, as that stood in their own arena of future champions. “She’ll come. You know she will. It’ll be up to you to spot them out across the flock while I keep their attention busy.” Not a kiss, but a wolfish touch of his large nose against hers, and he let his hand fall to turn and study that space once more. “This’ll do. Somethin’ to look forward to. We’ll see if it’s worth our bet in a few moons, love.” If Leo had gained one thing beside her trust, that one thing seemed to be a strange sort of confidence.

Eleanor was quiet a moment, studying the wolf in the glowing blue light of the nearest orb. She swallowed before speaking, and when she did so, her tone retained its low fortifications, its husky guard against vulnerability. "Yoo're gonnae hae tae keep 'at Demon thrang, too." El pushed out a pensive sigh, the muscle in her jaw feathering for a beat. "We're gonnae hae uir hans foo ... main need tae pull in puckle feaithers, fill out th' flock oorselves." Leoxander's confidence, as much as she might have played a part on it, was infectious, too, and she lifted her chin with a swell of it, nudging her nose against his. She drew in a breath slowly, held it, and released it before her pale green eyes searched for his blue counterparts in the odd blue light. Her thoughts were interrupted by a rapping at the door they'd come in through, only it wasn't as heavy as a man's knuckles, and for a brief spell, her brows started to furrow anew. Her features relaxed, however wryly, and her attention returned to Leo. "Aam afraid uir mukker will be unable tae join us tonecht," she revealed with an arch of both brows. "Yoo'll hae tae meit heem anither time, aiblins." El tilted her head, a grin pulling at her full lips. "Ah hink we hae time afair we need tae heed back tae th' islain — tae th' jewelry shop." The woman paused a hearty beat or two, her lips twitching as the grin was tempted into a darker line. "Anythin' yoo'd loch tae dae while we're still in toon?"

Leoxander listened to her words carefully while his thoughts pooled on their own. Somehow the weight of his battle with the champions of champions had become nothing more than a distraction, nothing so important as a title to claim. And the rogue was fine with that. “I’ll keep him busy. But we need some eyes in the crowd. I think I might just know a pair.” His wandering eyes moved back to her. “The girl. She hears a lot and doesn’t say much. But she had a lot of questions for me that night after that one sunovabich.” His opponents were a blur at that point, but it didn’t matter “Wanted to know a lot about me. Wanted to pay me her winnings, too.” He’d seen the spellrogue next to her that very night and had his suspicions of how that gold came about. “She’s a skittish lark if I ever saw one but she might be a good fisher.” He wasn’t certain how the Fox would take that suggestion, but it was a thought to chew on. “Let’s go check out your shop and find you some proper jewels for your crowning ceremony, then.” A light tease as he submitted to her lead and direction; turns out the jewelry wasn’t just a distraction and he had energy to spare. The night was young for felons, yet.

Eleanor let her hands trace up the wolf's jacket collar until each glove pressed against the back of his neck. But the look on her face as she kept herself closed in on the wolf was anything but friendly at the mention of his newest fangirl. "Nae. Absolutely nae. Nae fur thes." The spellrogue's tone was adamant and low. "She has nae idea whit she'd be gettin' intae." Eleanor shook her head. "Onie third-eye thug gits a sniff ay 'er, they woods eat 'er alife, in front ay a' fowk." Her scowl grew more pronounced as she spat, "Make an example ay 'er." The spellrogue drew in a breath, released it into a sigh, and her expression softened a smidge. "Ah dornt disagree 'er een an' lugs can be useful, but nae haur," the spellrogue continued, the edge from her tone gone, if only slightly. "She'd be a sittin' duck. We need a helluva lot mair than jist 'er bonnie coopon protectin' us frae their sneakery when they shaw." Another sigh later, and she nodded, withdrawing her hands from around the rogue in order to stuff them into her pockets. "Nae, Ah hink it's time we brooght in proper kimmers. We hae enaw ay them noo, jist need tae say th' words." As she began moving toward the doors, albeit somewhat slowly, she slanted her gaze sidelong toward her partner-in-many-things, and the start of a smirk was pulling at the corner of her mouth. "Mah crownin' ceremony, eh?"

Leoxander lost a little friendliness in his expression but did not push her away. “So you want me to trust you with this.. Man. And I don’t have a goddamn say in who I should trust.” There would be no more kisses from the pirate, that night, despite the surprise and the task on hand. “I understand. It’s up to you.” He ended the conversation at that, standing still for a pause before he followed her to the door, no longer interested in discussing her crowning ceremony. She was already wearing her crown. And Leo had lost his smirk, for now. Still, the wolf followed, focused on the job they were about to encounter to scope. Clearly she’d triggered a bad mood in her unpredictable pirate.

Eleanor shook her head, her curls stirring around her shoulders. "Aam nae tellin' ye nae tae troost 'er, Leo," she growled at him. "Ah troost her, too. Ah also troost th' lassie isnae ready ur qualified tae tak' oan th' burden ay lookin' out fur these killers. Ah'm jist tryin' nae tae gie 'er killed." She huffed, kicking at the ground and pivoting before turning back toward Leo. "Meanwhile, Sarge—" Her cheeks puffed out, flushed with color. El hadn't meant to slip his name out, but it had stumbled from her in her sudden vexation. "Now thaur is someain fa micht be able tae hauld his ain." The spellrogue's flaxen brows knit under that heavy crown, and she sighed even heavier. "An' fur th' record, coz it clearly needs tae be said, Ah am nae interested in gonnae doon 'at road wi' heem again. Ever." She jabbed a finger out toward him, punctuating the remark. "It was a one-time thin'. We—" El huffed out again, jerking her fingers between them. "Werenae e'en together, an' yit Ah am bonnie sure Ah hae proven mah loyalty tae ye since, tenfauld." The spellrogue shook her head again that night, only slowly this time, a bit more defeated, her features crushing under the weight of the remorse he had invoked in her. She made no move toward the door again, not wanting to leave this room with things as unsettled as this. "Leo ... mo ghaol," she continued, her voice husky, throat thick. "It is up tae me, but 'at isnae th' point haur at aw. She simply isnae ready yit." There was an emphasis on the 'yet'. She swallowed, her pale eyes imploring the wolf to understand where she was coming from as she stood between him and the door.

Leoxander regarded his new queen's words with careful consideration. He hadn’t yet told her about his moment in the Frostmaw tavern with a further introduction to the maidservant, but he hadn’t given enough information for it to matter. He’d mostly just fixed the door she accused him of breaking - which he had not. “So we keep careful. But an extra set of eyes won’t hurt, and she’s an easy disposal if she proves worthless. You’ve already earned some trust on both. They hate me. It’s a good gig to play. Good rogue, bad rogue.” And while the tension was in the air, a sinister plan started to formulate in his mind. “What if we… split?” Oh, the wheels started to turn. “You are tired of my battles and rallies. I can’t see you in the eye with all your plans. We make it a bit of a spectacle that I will lead the wench right to you, and none knows the better.” Suddenly, the rogue was back, meeting her eyes again. “No one would know but us. Maybe even that Blue demon thinks me broken hearted in the ring. They’d underestimate us in a moment.” Anger set aside, something sharpened in his eyes as he held hers.

Eleanor rocked back on her heels, chewing on Leo's words, her thumbs rubbing against the trim of her pockets. "Och aye," she murmured, guardedly. "We keep careful." She pressed her full lips into a thin, pensive line, but with the wolf pirate's suggestion, the growls she'd been trying to keep at bay before rumbled forth. "Whit in hell's nam is wrang wi' ye? Split?" It was a sore point to put forward in the wake of all their other discussions, heated and heartfelt. Her initial response didn't quite do her justice though, and already her mind was spinning, reeling, considering the advantages and disadvantages. Swallowing, that muscle in her jaw fluttering as she ground her molars, and she moved toward him, lifting her gaze, which held in her pale green depths a mixture of uncertainty, insecurity, and more importantly, understanding. "Ye ken, when Ah said 'aw in', Ah didne pure techt 'aw out.'" Her brows formed a furrow, and as she searched his eyes, her own picked up bits of blue, whether from the blue orbs nearby, or her own inner light, it was not immediately evident. "Ah hae tois conditions," she began, her hands reaching forward to pull at his lapel, pulling him closer. "Firs', yoo're gonnae feckin' owe me efter." Eleanor smirked, snorting softly, but her fingers curled tighter around his jacket. "Second, ye better feckin' pay some ay these dues afair, too. Ah'm nae breakin' up wi' ye in public withit a proper send-off."

Leoxander gripped her in return, whatever he had to hold onto with her fitted leathers. “Think of it. She knows you’ll come for me. I’m not saying this is real. What are we damned good for if not a farce? And what better an arena to make it known?” He quieted for her conditions and listened carefully, some of that anger lost from his eyes with this unorthodox solution. He weighed their options and their possible outcome, but that look of Loki shown back into his eyes. “We make a bit of a spectacle of it. I go into the ring, defeated already. She’ll be watching, win or lose, to take advantage of that. We jus’ need it believable, mah goal.” He botched the words horribly, but cracked a new smirk after. “Let’s give them a show, and if nothin’ else comes of it, maybe the demon will have his mind in a scramble. It ain’t a cheat if you’re careful, aye?” It seemed a perfectly roguish thing to do, not with Shi as his aim but any eyes in the crowds that might already be aware of his curse. “What d’ya think? Doesn’t mean you can’t help me prepare till our spectacle.”

Eleanor's lips formed a faint smirk. "Ye dornt hae tae convince me loove, sae lang as ye kin mah conditions." Her eyes flashed at him, and her hands moved from his lapel to curve around his neck again. "Ah will be expectin' payment suin," the rogue continued, the slyness entering her tone once more. "Reit awa' in fact." She leaned in, pressing up on the balls of her toes so that she could reach up, nose against his. "Consider it a deposit." El nudged her nose against his again, before pressing herself to him, her kiss purposeful, speaking volumes to her trust in him.

Leoxander narrowed his eyes just enough. “I’ll make it believable. Just when I pay proper rites well deserved.” Said before that sealing kiss. They had some work ahead of them in the next few days to make it profitable and believable, but for now they’d dodged a bullet to come together for a task, once again. “Be brutal. As I know you can be. I'll return the favor.” One last round to go, and a curveball might just do him a favor if it paid off.

Eleanor; When El lifted her eyes to Leo once more, the pale green half-moons under her heavy lids were already building up their guards in anticipation of what was to come. "Aye, Ah'm sure there's a lot ay material tae wark wi'." She tried to keep the mood as light as they could be, in this subterranean hall with blood, sweat, and sawdust, conspiring against the upcoming fights. Her lips twisted into a smirk, but it didn't quite reach her pale eyes when they lifted toward Leo's bluer counterparts. "Sae whit will it be thes time? Ye lae me under anither curse? Shoods Ah be payin' a visit tae …" El stopped herself, frowning. None of the words meant anything, not really. They were empty barbs, and yet they twisted in her gut at the thought of having to fling them at him. "I dinnae loch thes, Leo," she huffed out on a heavy breath, slowly shaking her head. "It's gonna gie pure feckin' messy." Her familiar wryness returned at last, settling into her green eyes with an unfathomable depth to her understanding. "Ay coorse, ye dae ken eh'd dae anythin' fur ye. E'en thes." She drew in a deep breath, held it, and released it, her smile growing slightly, her fingers toying with the back of the collar on his jacket, beneath his mess of blond. "If it means takin' 'er doon?" Beat. "Ur at th' verra leest, gettin' a leid oan whaur th' feck she's bin hidin'?" The spellrogue sucked in another lungful, rolling her shoulders up with it, and both were dropped with a resigned shrug. "Ah troost ye. Ye troost me. An' nae matter whit Ah hae tae say next time we see each other …" Her expression shifted, subtly. A moment of raw honesty held like bated breath as she prepared to be the most direct she'd yet to be. "Ah loove ye, Leo."

Leoxander had been through a wide range of moods in the matter of bells in her company. Nothing truly new when his red fire mingled with her blue arcane. But those words, those damned words so honestly spoken caused his jaw to tighten, his nose slightly flaring as he kept his breathing as calm as he could, his eyes locked on her with a strange expression. Not angry, not even confused. But uncovered, as though he’d worn a mask most of his moments even while the face cover loosely bunched around his throat. He was still terrified to speak those three words out loud, as though they were the words of some ancient curse that would doom him back to solitude and failure. He couldn’t do it - not yet. “I d’know what else to do. Nothin’s gonna be right until we fix this. Fix you…” His gaze lowered and if she didn’t pull away, he collected her gloved left hand in a careful grip, a surprisingly tender brush of thumb across the top. “If we play the part, one of us will look vulnerable. I just know that’s what she’s waiting for. Hell, half this world knows when we’re together, we’re a fuggin’ force that ain’t gonna raise the whites.” There were a lot of holes in this unexpected turn of planning, true. He looked across the pit floors, around the empty room. “Someone’ll see it. I think she’s likely been watchin’ us the whole damn time.” That brought his thoughts back around, and he began to understand, or at least make an educated guess why he would need to work with an unknown man he desperately wanted to watch choke on his own blood. “It’s up to you. You’re my commander, an’ I’ll be your cap’n.” Eleanor might be a little surprised to hear him speak those words sincerely, but the one time alpha had learned to trust her judgement. Even if he didn’t always agree. “If we do pull this off, you know she’s gonna think us in a wind open in a storm. Someone’ll slip. And when they do, we’ll put an end to this, and you’ll feast on the bloody hag until she’s a withered sack of bones n’ dust.”

Eleanor was not sure what she had expected when she finally felt brave enough to utter those words without the lace of pretense. But, admittedly, she definitely did not expect the look Leo gave her in response. As if the words hadn't been coiling around them for months, uttered as punctuation, as quiet, secret terms of endearment only they understood. She exhaled, her chest feeling tight and tingling; a rather uncomfortable feeling. Her tongue felt made of lead as it sat in the dry hollow of her mouth, and she began to move her hands away. Yet, as he took her left hand, full testimony to her reckless sinning, she studied his face, unable to pull away even as she fought off a deep frown. "She's definitely bin watchin'," she told him, keeping her voice low. "Ah ... gart a mistake, a while back. Hud tae visit a body ay oors, out in Enchantment." Eleanor scowled, dredging up the memory. "A handful ay hers attacked us. We dealt wi' each ay them, but it was messy. We waur messy. Glaikit." The woman's pale eyes had shifted away from her scrutiny of the wolf, shades of remorse cast over her features. But soon enough, pale greens sought out blues again, tentative as much as guarded. "-When- we pull thes aff," the spellrogue corrected him, her confidence surfacing faintly. "We're gonnae pit an end tae 'er together. Once an' fur aw."

Leoxander could almost feel that echo of sensation like strings wrapped around his heart, and he nearly winced in apology as his mind fought against it, his pulse pounding in his ears. A certain measure of silence hovered between the moment before he took a sniff of breath and tried to meet her eyes after a while studying her gloved hand, taking in that extra information. “An’ I wasn’t there…” Which weighed a certain amount of guilt on his shoulders, but also confirmed that it was likely the Oracle would continue to taunt and nip at strings, play the role of a nuisance until Eleanor stumbled, until one or both of them were vulnerable to get rid of, apart. “You got enough fuel to get us to the ship? We can hit up your jeweler’s digs, first, but we need to figure out the script an’ I’m itchin’ to hear her waves.” The smell of sweat and wood would suit another time, but the pirate felt there was only a spot or two safer than the abandon depths of his island’s cove.

Eleanor's brows twitched, fending off a furrow. "Ye dornt hae tae be aw places. We managed, mair than." What she was neglecting to mention, however, was the strange golden arrow that she had been shot with; the wound in her shoulder had been healed by the time she had seen him next. And they had certainly seen worse. Her other hand remained curled around his collar, and she moved it now, resting over his heart, palm brushing where the rune would be. "There's mair than enaw fur a trip tae th' ship. An' later." El's fingers tapped a rhythm against Leo's chest, her lips pressing subtly together, pensive as ever, before she withdrew altogether. Tension coiled between her shoulders as she moved to the door, palm already flaring with the blue portal spell trapped in the ink. Although she had agreed to the plan, or what it was developing into, Eleanor was still dreading it. With a sigh, she curled her hand around the doorknob, pulling it open into the captain's quarters of their ship, her first step a bit unsettled as she went from land to water, but she kept the door open for her partner to pass through into the dark suite.

Leo's Ship, Hidden in Rynvale

Leoxander instinctively touched a hand around her lower back as he felt that first step sway in the moderately shallow waters, deep enough to need anchor and avoid running around, but a stone’s throw from the shore that was at times lit by torchlight. At that time of day, the light that illuminated sand and stone and a slow tide was what managed to spill from the opening of that cove some distance away. He sought out an oil lamp to give her the chance to withdraw her wisp of arcane and set it down on the desk, moving to a recently hauled trunk to open it for a corked bottle and two simple, small glasses. Quiet for the time it took to pour, he could feel Eleanor’s uncertainty as if it were his own, and would pass over a glass of exceptionally potent, top shelf whiskey her way to let her drain and drown away some of those nerves. He took a few gulps of his own and set it down on the corner of the desk, still standing, turning the base of the tumbler in his fingers a bit. “So what could’a happened in a few short days to tear us apart like old leathers? We can’t be too vague, an’ we can’t be too obvious. The more rumors float around the more it’ll peek interest.” He perched on the edge of that mostly bare surface, a few blueprints and a few brass instruments dominating one side. “We’re gonna have to sneak aroun’ a bit for a while, or risk some time apart with a good trap in waitin’...” A touch to his chest mimicked his tap with a flicker of faint life as he added, “I have a feelin’ we’ll still know if we get into deep waters.”

Eleanor's gestures were subtle as she moved into the captain's cabin and brought that floating blue light with them. With Leo grabbing the oil lamp, she flung the arcane orb toward the desk, where it pooled in an ashtray before dissipating in a brief sparkle. She followed after it and the lamp, scanning through the items left on the desk's surface, even as she stole sideways glances toward the captain. As he joined her, she turned to face him, leaning her hip heavily against desk. She reached across to take the tumbler in her gloved right hand, her left hooked over her belt. Eleanor swirled the potent amber liquid around, mulling over the question the pirate thought brave enough to put out in the open, returning to their discussion on the seemingly inevitable split. Tilting it back for a quick, burning swallow, she curled her lip, and set the glass on the desk, nodding for another. "Weel, whit hae we fooght abit afair?" she mused, her tone low, throat thick. "Yer wolf ... ye leavin'. Mah ... magic. -Heem-. Tak' yer pick, loove." Finally, her pale eyes lifted to seek out the wolf's in that yellow lamplight. "There's enaw sins atween us tae lecht a pyre." The rogue shook her head with resignation and her continued stubbornness. "There's nae way Ah'm nae huntin' ye doon in th' shadows durin' thes, an' Ah expect likewise frae ye," she told him, that bead of uncertainty settling like a cursed pulse in her gem. "We've spent lang enaw apart, Ah willnae lit 'er tear us apart fur real."

Leoxander reached a hand toward Eleanor to… well, it would seem like the rogue was due to cop a feel of curves from the back to front in the center of her frame, but she might quickly realizing he was in a shameless search for her tin of cigarettes. “You’re the one that’s gonna catch most o’ the thrown questions, my guess. Social grievance ain’t my play. More likely to lure the beast if I’m out of sight an’ mind for a time, and that final round ‘gainst the Blue’ll give me reason for it, win’r lose.” Hopefully he’d either come across her possession in his search or she’d assist to fish it out for him, the end of one put between his lips as he dug back pocket for his tin-cased firestarter. “Gotta be my fault. Not that I’d expect anyone to flock my way, anyhow, but it’ll draw some extra attention yer way, I’m hopin’...” However the smoke was lit, he took a long pull from it and brought it into his lungs, the first take of her herb he’d helped himself to in days. Head tilted back, he stared blankly up at the ceiling with a slow stream of exhale and some words bitten around the smoke at the end of it. “I could be leavin’ again… pissed off at your plans. Wantin’ this island to myself or jus’ bloody done bein’ a hound on a leash.” A sidelong gaze moved over her way with a subtle shake of his head. “I don’ feel that way, an’ you know that, but it ain’t that far fetched for the sheep to eat up. I’ve nothin’ if not my nasty reputation.” Another drag had his eyes squinting and flickering with some wolfish reflection in the lantern light as he weighed her reaction.

Eleanor brooded through another tumblerful of whisky, her lips pressed into a pucker in-between swallows. "Ye wanna lure heem out … Mebbe it's nae yer fault thes time." Her gaze dropped pointedly toward the blue rune imprinted beneath the wife-beater, before she lifted her gaze to study him, his hands roaming in search of that tin. She helped it out of her pocket and into his hands, her fingers lingering on his, with a pointed squeeze, before he'd be able to open it to retrieve the hand-rolled cigarettes. "Mebbe ye foond out ... foond out abit Sargaso …" It was a whole lot to say his name out there, not a misspoken syllable, but rather enough or more to sign a death warrant for the paladin. "An' ... say Ah huvnae closed 'at duir." Her flaxen brows lifted in a suggestive waggle, and as she sought out his eyes, she added, low, "Ah hae … But say Ah huvnae …" The spellrogue swallowed, her smirk wry, dark. "Say ye foond out exactly whit we did oan th' office desk ... efter everythin' …" She tipped her chin to that, before helping herself to her third glass of whisky in as many moments. Returning the tumbler to the desk for good, she settled her gaze at him before reaching forward to take the cigarette for herself, rather than take one from the tin. "Doesnae matter when it happened, ur fa it was wi'. Ye spent plenty ay time as th' big bad wolf, lit me be th' whoor' queen."

Leoxander took another hit from that herb and sighed another very heavy exhale, boldly locking his gaze to hers as she spoke a suggestion that had drifted in the back of his mind, but he hadn’t wanted to say. It was too damn perfect, because it wouldn’t be hard to channel some bottled anger and act that part at all. Nor would it be difficult for Eleanor to have every detail on mind, and amidst argument from day one in the basement to the small jabs they had that day, it might finally help them both to move on from a memory that got swallowed in his time as a beast with burdens. The pause stretched a few seconds longer than necessary while he finished the amber left in his glass and helped himself, and her if she coincided, to another pour. Whether it was because of the pull of the rune or a clench deeper in his chest behind it, he rubbed his thumb knuckle of left, branded hand clutching the glass across the center of his sternum. “You’re not gone’ like it, love. People lookin’ at you in that way, thinkin’ you’re willin’ to stab anythin’ that walks one way or another. Still hits me in the gut, sometimes, knowin’ they talk an’ the truth never mattered.” Something other than anger, intense love, or mirth touched into the pirate’s expression as his eyes risked a look back at her. Something more remorse and uncertain, especially at the thought of tarnishing her reputation in any way. Not that she was any sort of saint, and not that the revelation of their theatrics wouldn’t eventually come floating to the surface, but sometimes lies dug their claws in deeper than truth could ever pry free. “You sure you’re ready for that taste? You an’ I gotta make another promise, righ’ now… nothin’ we say or do that day means a damn thing as far as you an’ I.” Not even the waves could relax the land-sickness feeling in his stomach as they lapped the shore and hull while he awaited her answer.

Eleanor leaned heavier against the desk before putting both hands on the edge of it, pushing herself up onto its surface and crossing one knee over the other. "Ah awreddy dornt loch it," she reminded him with a soft snort, although by that time, her expression was resigned if wry. "But ye pure hink Ah caur whit those fowk hink ay me? Ye hink Ah've worked thes stoaner tae lit their petty gab twist th' chib?" El felt she deserved a bit more credit than that, it would seem, and she stole the cigarette for another deep drag, passing it back before she took up the tumbler. She held it in her lap, slanting her gaze toward the wolf slowly. "Whit we say t'day, that's th' truth as we ken it." She had already as much as promised him everything in the delivery of those three words earlier, but although they'd gone unreturned, she had to admit, she hadn't really expected him to. Leo had a way of saying and doing things at his own pace … as did they both. And she did not regret saying them. When they spoke together, here, alone, she accepted their truth, including the parts that hurt. "Naethin' else is gonnae matter ance we part ways." She tilted her chin, hair now dry as it shifted around her shoulder, and she fixed him with a stare less guarded than before, a low nod pulling at her chin. "Ye an' me."

Leoxander couldn’t deny she had the same thick skin and mental shell as he’d worked his way into over the years, and who was to say which of them had lived longer? It was something trivial that he’d never bothered to question, but it just didn’t matter. Nodding along with her and sharing that risky bit of confidence, his blue stare locked on green, their contrast like deep to shallow crystal waters. “This is gonna work, El.” He reassured her, as much as he reassured himself. “All in…” He echoed her sentiments which might have been nearly significant as those three words he hadn’t managed to chance, but knowing the pirate as she did, she might realize it took just as much effort and emotion to state the two. “But I’d damn better get one more roll in the dust before game day, Fox. I’ll be starvin’ an’ lickin’ my own wounds for a while after this.” He stubbed out his smoke in his gloved palm and tossed the roach of it on the desk before he lifted his glass and sealed their pact with a rogue’s handshake, meaning a clink of whiskey glasses. “I’m expectin’ you to rile me up enough to beat the ever-dyin’ hell out of Sir Champions of Champions.”

Eleanor kept her eyes trained on the captain of the ship, her full lips twitching as she tempered her thoughts a beat. Then, with another nod. "Ye feckin' bet it's gonnae wark. Th' alternatife isnae acceptable." She lifted the whisky and swallowed through a single gulp, lips pressed together through a faint wince. "Aw in." Maybe she did understand as her eyes found his again. Or at least, she wanted to. Eleanor wanted to see, to trust. Even after all these years, it was still a struggle for the queen of rogues. Leo was the only one to have come this far with her, to have earned this much of it. And so she decided, perhaps inspired by the many innuendoes under the wolf's words. He had earned everything. "Only a body?" Her lips twitched wider with a soft snort, her flaxen brows arched. "Loove," the spellrogue continued, shifting slightly on the desktop so that she faced him more. "If Ah'm gonnae rile ye up proper, an' ye ken 'at Ah can—" Eleanor's pale celadon eyes sparkled with her layered intentions. "It's gonnae happen ower, an' ower, an' ower again until ye cannae feckin' stain me." She clinked her glass against his and finished off the dregs to punctuate, before meeting his stare again, heated with a ring a blue. "An' 'en we barnie."

Leoxander was brought back around on the wheel of moods, to actually chuff a chuckle as she spoke those intriguing words. “Jess’ leave me the energy to hold my feet below, savvy?” Not a promise he’d actually make her keep. Perched on the edge of the desk, he looked down at his empty glass, and for some reason, his brow furrowed a bit. He traced his thumb across the rim, and lost his smirk. Then he turned his head to meet that glow again, blinked his own stare a bit, and said in his more soft and deep tone. “I love you, too.” Be it a curse or an epiphany, whatever was meant to be - was meant to be. “Y’know I have for a long time.” He covered his tracks as a rogue might, but that didn’t discredit his testimony. It almost seemed to steal some of the predator out of his posture as his slouch prevailed and he looked away after a significant moment, silently hoping he hadn’t ruined all they had achieved. Eleanor of all people knew how detrimental those words could be. After a long pause to afford her any response she might see fit to give, he sniffed in that way that the pirate did like he’d taken a bump of snuff, and looked ahead toward the door to those quarters. “We can scope your market if you like, but tomorrow I’m due to prepare. Never met him in a match I didn’t lose, an’ I don’t like to lose.”

Eleanor chuckled softly in reply. "Ah will make nae sic' promises. Aw in, min'?" It would become another of their phrases, full of meaning, turned end over end to hide behind their pretense and denial. Whatever ghost of a smirk had found the spellrogue's full lips started to fade as she watched Leo, his own attention suddenly fixed on that glass. She felt the tension bloom and blossom between them, coiled and ready to strike. The strike, however, was delivered most unexpectedly, and Eleanor nearly dropped her glass at his next words, her gloved hand tightening reflexively around it. Sucking in a breath, her eyes flared with more blue before settling into the shallow waters he was most familiar with. "Leo." She swallowed, and set the glass beside her thigh on the desk, her own gaze falling to the tumbler. "Dornt fash yerse abit th' markit reit noo," she began, a certain coyness entering her husky tone. "Ah'll figure out anither way tae gie in afair th' auction." El's pale eyes danced in the lamplight when they returned to her lover, and she couldn't help the crooked grin that spread. "Th' markit will still be thaur later, efter aw."

Leoxander tried to distract himself with the process. Plans, agenda, timing. But at that moment, time stood nearly still for the wolf who had bonded with the other half of his human soul. It was a constant struggle between living in the now, and preparing for the worst. Lycanthrope not necessary to relate, though it definitely enhanced that tear between two sides. “You said two days. I don’t have two days. An’ we can’t know how the rest will react to this unless there’s some way we can tell your murder without shinin’ truth on this farce.” As perfect as this plan seemed, he had to struggle against his desire to remain that unneeded bodyguard and trust her survival without him. She’d managed two years, what would be a few moons more? “You should at least find someone to keep eyes on you, in case this whole… magic shite don’t work out.” He didn’t need to point out the rune another time. “Even if it’s him.” His solemn gaze was the most honest he could give as it returned to hers, again. “I trust you.” He punctuated that statement even if she already knew it, and slid off the desk with the empty glass left behind. “I’d like to sleep here, tonight. Won’t be able to hide here after the fight. Too many know to find me, here.” Nor would he divulge what place, if any place he had in mind, where he intended to be. It had to be real, and fake, hand in hand.