Log: Three Questions
IC: Day 12, month 8, turn 22 of Interval 10.
RL: 2010.04.29
Looking like she's been pulled through a bush backwards, Bailey finally returns with a gift for Rio. It all goes horribly wrong at the end.
Thanks to Rio's player for his patience over the three days this took to get done. You rock dude!
Candlario's Boat, Ista Weyr
As you ascend the triple masted ship, you can appreciate her size first hand. The canvast of her three lateen rigged sails are age worn and stained but in working order. The main sail is lowered and secured in the sail bag, the mizzen sail is lowered and secured in the sail bag, and the fore sail is lowered and secured in the sail bag. The mooring lines are rigged securely to the chalks and bollards on the docks. Her anchor is hoisted clear of the waterline with the chain stowed in the chain locker. The deck under your feet is weather worn, the wood bleached of color but protected by a layer of wax and polish. It is framed by a rail waist high of faded green paint and tarnished silver support rods. A cabin rests below deck, entered from a step down from deck where a black door is currently closed. From the deck, the captain's wheel gleams black, each spoke carved to form a radiant sun.
Contents:
Candlario
Obvious exits:
Docks
The shirt-on-loan that was pretty decent to begin with, is now torn in several places. Worn over a tiny pair of shorts, with sleeves rolled up and hanging open in the front, bared midriff, arms and legs display a legend of scratches and bruises. A long red welt slides down one cheek adding to the wild-eyed dishevelled appearance of the brunette as she ascends the gangplank with a half-empty bottle of rum in one hand, and a cloth wrapped bundle in the other. Bellowing loud enough to awaken the dead, “Rio!” waiting but a heartbeat for a response and then adding as she makes as if to weave her way toward the skipper’s cabin, “Get your ass out here, I got something for you!” No quiet or docile arrival, just that brash and bold summons. The missing half of the rum bottle doing the talking maybe?
The man on guard blinks, white-faced at the condition of the lady coming up to board the ship. He's so taken aback that he even takes a stumbling step backwards before a, "Are you ok?" His concern goes unnoticed but he does trail after the drunken girl. It takes a bit for a response to her calling, a couple more of her shouts bring a reply in the form of a shout from within the cabin, "What is it? It's sharding -Late-." Then the sound of footsteps and the door comes flying open. Rio with his robe thrown on, eyes squinted from sleep as he gives Bailey a bleary-eyed look over. Her state bringing him quickly awake but not so awake that he can form a good response to her.
Bailey turns an expressionless look the guard’s way, “’M fine,” she states and continues on her way toward the cabin taking a swig from the rum bottle as she goes. Pale eyes narrow at Rio’s words, her lips drawing back into a dark smirk as she opens her mouth to hurl something in response. That is until he comes bursting out of his cabin with just a robe on. Keeping her attention on him, she throws back another mouthful, swipes the back of her hand across her mouth and adopts a cocky stance with one hip thrust out, putting her weight on the other leg. Sardonic, “So sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, lover boy.” The hand with the cloth wrapped bundle suddenly swings up and shoves toward him, “Here, I found these for you.” If the big man gets as far as taking a peek inside, he’ll find what looks to be six firelizard eggs that are almost completely hardened and hinting toward hatching in the next day or two.
A look passes across Rio's face, as though he's trying to figure out if Bailey has completely lost her mind. "What the fuck happened to you?" Noticing her scratches and that welt but there's a little longer look at the bruises, which might make her think he is being lewd and sizing her up, except for the mixture of concern and anger on his face. The expression hardens into one of deeper anger when he finds the bundle in his hands and he has to rip his gaze off her to see what she's got for him. "You got yourself all scraped up and went off....who-knows-where for firelizard eggs? I didn't want them /that/ badly." But instead of pushing them back on her, he holds them in closer, taking a step towards the girl, "I should shake your silliness right out of you."
Either she’s not aware of what she looks like, or she just doesn’t care at this moment in time. Bailey puts a passing glance down over herself, and then shrugs, “Got a bit banged up.” No kidding. With a wrinkle of nose she plucks at a corner of the shirt, “Broke your shirt. Sorry ‘bout that.” Which she does seem to be. The anger coming off of Rio has her brow crinkling together in a frown and as he comes closer, she takes a wary step backward. Shaking her head and shooting him a look as if he were the one not in complete control of his sanity rather than her, “No, just found them while I was away but I’m back now.” Like that explains it all and makes everything alright. Fingers curl tighter around the bottle and the hand freed of the cloth wrapped burden clenches into a fist at his last, warning in a low tone, “Just try it.” As if he were the one responsible for whatever brought her to this point.
"Competent woman.......able to take care of herself... " He mutters something along those lines, but it's so quiet, under the grumbles Candlario is making as he keeps looking over Bailey. Trying to convince himself perhaps. It's only when he finally notices that she's retreating from his forward steps that he forces himself to stop, giving a shake of his head, "Damn'It Woman. Alright. -Fine-. Obviously you didn't need me going off and hunting your little Ass down." Although his expression doesn't match the words, he looks her up and down again, "And I'm not going to -hurt- you. For goodness sakes." And then, in a softer tone, "Bailey..I've -Missed- you."
Bailey watches him through a closed expression as he grumbles, the scrutiny causing her to make an attempt at pulling the tattered shirt closed around her. Her jaw tightens and releases a few times before she eventually says low, “Told you not to come looking for me.” However it’s his last that has some of the tension slipping off of her and her head tipping to one side for a moment as if turning over his statement in her head. With a slow exhalation of breath a few cracks start showing, most noticeably in the chew of her bottom lip and frown as she looks away in an attempt to bury it all back down again, heedless of any that may be standing around watching this scenario play out. Quietly spoken, almost tentative, “You did?” miss her.
"I really did. I was starting to think that you wouldn't come back." Candlario admits, after a look towards the men who are milling around with concern on their faces too. Even old one-eyed Fremond is in the background and not looking nearly as snarly. "I followed your wishes though--against my better judgement...." The look over her suggests that he's feeling more than a little bitterness of guilt at her condition. "Let me get you something to eat. Clothes." He opens one arm towards her, invitation for her to come to him though he's no longer stalking towards her.
For the first time that evening, the hint of a smile edges out for Rio’s admission, “I’m glad I’m back.” Bailey-speak for ‘I missed you too’. She leaves his comment alone about not having come looking for her giving just a nod that she’d heard him. It’s only when the big man draws attention to her attire that the brunette notices his men and the looks she’s getting from them. Funny that it’s their concern that ruffles her more than if they’d been leering her way. And then of course there’s talk of food too. “I’m starving!” that she easily admits as she slips in under his arm and through the doorway into his cabin. Lifting the half-empty rum bottle she makes a poor attempt at humour, “I brought something for us to drink. And then I got thirsty.” Given the cracks in her façade, it quite likely falls flat.
Candlario's arm loops around her in a protective snare rather than the anger he was radiating earlier with threats to shake her. Once he's got her secure against him he calls over his shoulder for food to be delivered right away. "I want towels and the big basin--extra hot. Food--the fresh crust of bread and ... whatever else. And stop staring at her you fools." Which is mostly pretend for 'keep your eyes off my lady' instead of the more obvious reason they are gaping. Once the door is closed and secured he kisses the side of her head if he's able to, "You got thirsty huh? Well, let me have some of that while I get you something to wear....you're half naked." A look at the welts and though there are questions, he's not asking just yet.
Bailey has no qualms about leaning in against him, resting her forehead briefly against his chest listening to his voice rumbling out the orders but making no protests at the moment. She’ll allow the kiss to her head and then pulls away from him, her frame still holding tautness to it. Perhaps dreading the unspoken questions his eyes keep asking. The bottle is held out to him and then she steps away turning her back to Rio as she wraps her arms up about herself. Choosing a subject of neutral territory her voice taking on a bland nature, “They’ll probably hatch soon.” The firelizard eggs.
There's no questions for now, and only a grunt about the firelizards eggs. For all seeming dismissal of them though he does settle them down in a safe place on his desk all wrapped up. Taking the bottle he gives her another look and a small sigh before tipping the drink back to have a good sized swig from it. "How much do I owe you anyway?" Swirling the liquid in the bottle around and around as he stands there, not going to fetch the clothes after all. "You don't have to worry about anything in here ... " Taking her tight posture for concern for her safety in his room.
“I found them in the sand, in the sun. You should get a bowl and put some sand in it and keep it near a fire to stay warm or something.” The woman appears determined to try and stay on that topic. Then again, she could be genuinely concerned for the safety of the un-hatched firelizards. Turning toward the sound of his voice Bailey affords his question a small smile and shake of head, “You don’t owe me anything. I found them by accident when I was looking for…” her mouth clamps shut and her words trail off. A quick intake of breath and a flick of tangled hair in an effort to compose herself she takes a step back in toward Rio, lips quirking slightly, “I’m not scared of you.” Which doesn’t mean to say there’s not something else out there that frightens her, evidenced in her next, “Can…can I stay here?” quickly adding, “just for tonight.” The lack of any clothing being offered forward appears to be a moot point with her for the time being.
"I'll have one of the men get sand when they bring food." Candlario tells her, with soft reasurance. "And I do owe you. You did a job for me." A small crinkle of his nose at her refusal of his marks, or maybe at her unfinished statement. Setting the bottle on the corner of the desk instead of passing it back, he frowns at it before murmuring, "I'm glad you're not scared of me." He opens his arms again, closing the distance, "You can stay here. My little Sin." That's when the soft knock comes and he calls for them to come in. There's not only food brought in, but those towels and two men struggle with a basin of water. "Set that there, and over there with the food. Right. And, I need a pot with sand. For the little eggs. Warm sand." A look to Bailey for her agreement on the condition of the sand, he doesn't know.
Reassured, some of the concern for the safety of the eggs drains off and finds Bailey tipping her head once again at the open armed gesture coming from the big dark skinned man. Clearly, this kind of treatment is not something she’s familiar with. Though she doesn’t back away a small frown forms when he agrees to letting her stay mumbling stubbornly, “’M not little!” That is until his men appear with food, towels and the basin of water. Taking a half step back from their skipper she watches with interest flicking a glance sideways over to Rio as he looks to her for guidance on the eggs. “That’s what they were in when I found them?” she’s not too sure about that herself, “Maybe we should ask a ‘rider?”
He gives her a squeeze, though a careful one if she'd notice, before letting her go to attend to the bath and food. One amused glance is spared for her over his shoulder before Rio sends the men off to get sand, "We're not going to go tromping off looking for a dragon rider at this hour." He looks torn between getting her to eat and getting her to bathe for a moment. Only a short moment at that though. "Alright, into the bath then, Not-Little-Sin. And you can soak and eat at the same time. I'll even promise not to look. Much." Though he's not looking at her in a sexual manner right now, there's too much of that caged concern for her being held at bay for the moment.
Get into the basin? Bailey looks a little nonplussed by that her gaze alternating between the basin of temptingly steaming water and Rio's face to see if perhaps he may be pulling her leg. Her next words might clarify her hesitance, small wonder in her tone, "Like a lady holder?" Clearly someone's never experienced the luxury of such a thing outside of showers. Though the thought seems to please her for she doesn't wait for his reply and is soon stripping off to do as bidden, sticking her tongue out at him as she does so for the 'Not-Little-Sin' quip. His shirt however is carefully laid to one side, "I can fix that." Promises of his not looking simply draw a smirk from the brunette who comes back with, "Liar," wincing only once or twice when the hot water meets grazes and scratches.
"Of course." Candlario laughs softly at her question and adds a shake of his head, puzzling over her shock at the question. "Can't just scrub off in sea water all the time." He steps to the cabinet and opens it with a small key and rustles around with a few boxes within, coming up at last with the sweetsand pouch. "You don't have to be so careful with that shirt you know." He tells her when he sees it laid out so. The pouch of sand is passed over, "Sorry it's...not really girly." But it's clean smelling. There's a washcloth too--such finery. "You can eat while you soak." He looks at her and admits as he kneels beside the tub, "This is very difficult for me." Not looking at her, just over her shoulder, polite. See. It can be done.
Bailey tries very hard to hide whatever embarrassment she might be experiencing for having let her inexperience with such things slip, however the rosy hue touching to her cheeks might give her away, then again, that could be induced by the hot water itself. With a snort she corrects, “I’m not a total drudge,” this to using salt water to bathe, adding for clarification, “Spring or fresh river water.” There, see? Taking the pouch of soapsand and washcloth a small grin appears, “Now I’m going to smell like you.” Damp fingers reach out and stroke lightly down the side of Rio’s cheek, “Not anything you haven’t seen before,” the brunette reminds then holds out ‘sand and washcloth to him, “Wash my back?” The food is given a considering look and then, “We can eat afterwards,” including him in that, “Or maybe now, ‘cause I’m never getting out.” It would seem someone’s created a bath monster.
Candlario leans his face into her hand and murmurs in appreciation, "Oh, right. Spring water is much better." Grinning at her blush but not trying to embarrass her further. "Been sharding dull as shit around here without you." He tells her gruffly, like it's all her fault he hasn't been entertained. That is better than worrying over her, though she might catch his expression as he takes the washcloth and lathers it up with a bit of the soap. "I can think of more enjoyable ways of making you smell like me." He murmurs, bending close to her while shifting to get her back. "I'll get your back first and then you can get food." Silence as her back is washed, accustomed to such niceties it seems, or just good with his hands maybe. "Will you ever tell me what happened?"
Bailey can’t help but turn an amused look up to Rio, “No fancy women, or wild parties while I was away? How disappointing.” His words do seem to have hit the mark for there’s a pleased little wriggle although that could be for his comment on trading scent, “You need a bigger tub so you can fit in too.” My, my, one bath and now we’re making demands. Hands lift to hold her hair up out of the way, a low sound of pleasure over those hands on her back that know what to do. Easy agreement comes next, “My back and then food. Then my legs, and afterwards…desert?” there’s no mistaking the sly and hopeful tone to her voice. Whatever lightning of her mood that had started appearing now slips off at the question put to her, the brunette’s fingers tightening slightly in her hair. Busy with washing her back as he is, the tight squeeze of eyes and frown that appears may go unnoticed. Sucking in a long cleansing breath her head moves slowly from side to side as she states grimly, “The less you know the better. This is my problem, not yours.” At least she’s admitting that there is one.
Candlario shakes his head, letting out a sullen puff of breath, "No fancy women, just lots of order taking and order filling for our return home." He laughs about the bigger tub, "I'll think about that--but it might take some creative smith to make it big enough for you and I together." He leans in as his hands press against her shoulders but doesn't speak just yet. His strong fingers stroke up and down alone the curve of her spine, working soap in, but turning teasing as she speaks of dessert. Still, not saying anything, just a low sound of disaproval at the response. Finally, as he's cupping water into his hands to rinse off the suds he murmurs, "I understand. I don't like that you don't trust me enough to share this burden with me though."
Twisting her head in his direction, Bailey puts a look of keen interest on her human washcloth over talk of business, "Oh? But that's a good thing isn't it?" Trying to pinpoint the source of Rio's sullenness there. Brows lift and form her expression into a suggestive line, "Or just figure out creative ways to use this one." Hands doing all kinds of things in the name of good, clean fun and talk of a more serious nature have the brunette quiet for many long moments, almost as if she'd not heard his last as she gives in to his ministrations. That is until hands drop away from her hair allowing it to fall down her back again and she twists around to try and find those hazel eyes of his. "And if I did," tell him her situation, "How do I know you wouldn't just truss me up, lock me in your hold and call the Weyrleaders, hmm?" Yeah, trust seems to be a bit of an issue there. Turning away from him once again she passes a damp hand over her eyes and states softly as she gathers her legs up under her as if to get out of the tub, "Told you, I was trouble."
A soft kiss is placed on the shell of Bailey's ear as she starts to turn her head and he draws back with a sly smile for her, "It is a good thing. But it's still work. I am looking forward to being at sea again." He starts to say more but stops himself, just grinning at her before he tries to touch her cheek. He lets her lounge in the basin as he goes to get the tray of food. Bread, hard cheese, a sparce bit of heardbeast sliced up and slathered with some gravy and boiled and sliced tubers. Simple food. "Why do you believe that I'd do anything like that?" Sounding a touch offended. "You don't know me very well....maybe when you feel more comfortable with me...." The words trail off, though he does smirk a bit at her being trouble. "Sinful Trouble."
While the interest in his business dealings remains, a light scowl appears, "You're going to be setting sail soon?" Never mind that she just upped and left without as much as a by-your-leave. Bailey leans her head lightly against the touch to her cheek and then settles herself back down in the tub again when he goes to retrieve the tray of food. Watching the big man as he moves about bare shoulders lift and fall in a shrug, and then she pins an intent look on him, "No, I don't know you. For all I know you're here under orders from..." ahem, never mind. Her mouth briefly follows the same smirk as his and then she's folding her arms along the edge of the tub and resting her chin on them, "So how about this, you tell me something you'd never tell anyone else about yourself, and then maybe I'll tell you what happened." The gravity of her tone lending weight to her words.
"The ship will be going back, I may not be. Or I may. I haven't decided yet to be honest." A shrug goes along with it, to show how fixed he is on the idea. "I have heard there is to be a hatching at some point and I wouldn't mind seeing that. Maybe I could pay a dragon rider to search me." As he settles in, he makes a show of curling a non-existent mustache to the suggestion that he's a spy for 'someone' and laughs outright. He sets the tray over the tub so she can eat while he sits across from her-outside the tub but on the floor. "Tell you something I wouldn't tell anyone else" Rio's voice softens slightly and he gives her a wary look but after a pause asks, "What sort of things would you -want- to know about?"
Echoing his words through a low chuckle, “…haven’t decided yet…” Bailey takes to as languid a stretch as the confines of the tub will allow for, “Guess I’ll just have to help you make up your mind.” Shameless hussy! Once the tray is settled she’s quickly reaching forward and tearing off a chunk of bread and dipping it in the herdbeast gravy. Stopping just short of taking a bite, she stares at Rio as if he’d just announced he’d grown a third arm, “Why the hell would you want to do a thing like -that-?” pay someone to search him. The brunette meets his wary look with a lifted brow, tit for tat. Pale eyes flow a long considering look over him before she counters with another question of her own, “How many questions do I get?”
There's a wink for the undecided part and he reaches out to sneak one of the tubers from her plate to eat. "Mmm. I'm so very tempted to stay." Letting a lingering look play over her and even dipping a finger into the tub to splash at her. "I'd have to stay up at the Weyr though." A small crinkle of his nose about that followed with a laugh, "I wouldn't really. Pay for it that is. It would be funny though. Imagine their insulted looks." Candlario meets her gaze, still considering the matter of laying secrets out before them. "I don't know.you're just as likely to bolt out of here and that tub as you think I am if you tell me things." He wavers though, "how about you can ask me three questions now though I'm free to not answer one if it's too delicate. And you answer me what happened to you if you feel comfortable."
Bailey tries to capture that finger splashing water at her, "Then stay. With me." Instead of up at the Weyr. She catches the humour in the comment made over Search, chuckling in response, "Wonder what a dragon egg would go for?" ever the trader it seems. The brunette considers his words for a moment, and then slowly shakes her head, "Staying right here," in the tub, or with him, or both? Nodding now as she reaches for a piece of hard cheese, "Okay," a nibble, savouring the taste and then, "First question. Why are your men so protective of you and see me as such a threat?" Yes, she'd noticed that.
Candlario is easily caught, grinning at her as he curls his finger in her grasp while it lasts. "Really? Stay with you? Are you're sure you're ready to have a man about your ship mussing around with things?" And yes, he does look particularly happy about that arrangement. "I imagine the egg would go for cheap, but the standing spot much more. They should do that find the ones their dragons want and then make them pay up for the 'honor' of standing. Then they'd get some marks and free labor while the moon-eyed brats linger around for the eggs." Her question is turned over in silence but not before a small chuckle, "You'd have to ask them." But he doesn't leave it at that. "I hired them to keep me from trouble. I helped one or two of them out of a nasty pinch or two and they helped me when I happened to get myself into a pickle a turn or so back." He looks at her, both amused and still a bit wary, "They act as itchy like that around most folks they don't know because I pay them not to allow things to go missing. That part wasn't particular to you. Guess we all have trust issues on this ship."
Using her captured prize (his finger) Bailey rubs at her temple with it as if reconsidering her offer of somewhere for Rio to stay. Wrinkling her nose a little she then moves his finger to tap her lips, (such a useful item its turning out to be), finally replying as solemnly as possible, “Just don’t go wanting to borrow my clothes,” and with a little more sincerity, “don’t have a bed, just the hammock. Don’t need the hold right now, so that could be converted.” Releasing his finger a slice of tuber is next to be selected, wolfed down and followed by another in quick succession. So much so that she almost chokes while trying to laugh and swallow at the same time when it comes to candidates and eggs. Setting that aside the brunette takes his reply in and fits him with a contemplative look, asking quietly as a piece of herdbeast is taken up, “What kind of trouble did you get into?” That’s two out of three.
That fingertip, rough from work and the sea, brushes along her lower lip when it comes into range but just lingers long enough as she allows it. When he is released, the hand dips back into the water, reaching for one of her feet to rub it. Amusement at his temperary setup makes Candlario's eyes shine back at her, "I think that sounds fine. I'll even see a weaver about some real clothes. That is, unless you'd like to take the trip back with me. Could be honest work in it for you." At the question though his gaze slips away from hers, "I knew I couldn't get out of it that easily. I used to get myself into a lot of trouble. You see, I never wanted my father's business and I was scornful of all the hard work he put into things. I just wanted the marks. Lots of marks. It took me a very long time to learn how to earn them honestly." A small smirk there and he looks back at her, something dark and dangerous in that look but also a bit haunted. "It's difficult to explain it -all-."
With strong hands working on her foot, Bailey’s head leans back against the tub, eyes sliding closed as a low groan of appreciation slides out. Lashes flicker and she regards Rio from under them a small smirk forming, “And bring this too,” tapping fingers against the side of the tub. Eyes open fully at the offer made, her expression showing signs of being eager to do so but then she’s shaking her head, lips pressing into a firm line, “Never going back there.” To the southern continent. The head of half wet, half-dry hair tips to one side and a hand lifts from the water to stroke a light touch down the side of his arm as she meets that dark look dead on, “That was then, this is now.” Giving him easy quarter for whatever the sins of his past may have been. With a wry twist of lips, “It’s when the past comes back to bite you in the ass that things get a little…squirly, aye?” Either offering a hint of her own predicament or simply making a statement of empathy.
"Not going back where? You've never been to Driftwood Bay. It's nice. Out of the way of the main port and quiet. I've a -real- bathing tub there." Candlario's tone every inch of tempting the woman to join him on some mini adventure. "You'd be safe as a babe in arms on this ship. Save for Fremond trying to grope you maybe." Just as eager, but tempered by the firmness of her resolve for now. "That's true. The past coming back is a concern. Which is why it's good to have people you trust at your back." One eyebrow lifts slowly, curious but waiting to see what the last question just might be.
Rio makes such persuasive argument to join him that it’s clear to see the hesitation hovering behind pale eyes. With a short laugh, “I’m less worried about his hands and more worried about that blade of his. If memory serves...he promised me a dance.” It’s a possibility that she may very well be reconsidering her options of going along on the trip. The last question slips out on the heels of his response, “And just how far is the one watching your back prepared to go?” His, hers, both of theirs.
Leaning in, Rio places a soft kiss to her lips, he's not above using some leverage to get his way either you see. "Mmm, it'll just be a short trip to exchange supplies." A shadow passes his features at the 'dance' suggestion and he snorts, "I think that you had earned more than a little of his mistrust beautiful. He might not take up warm and cozy with you, but...you'd not come to any harm." Not drawing back he grins, "Is that my third question? I'd say the back-watching is pretty serious stuff--although I am not one to tempt fate with putting words to the lengths a faithful mate will go to."
Bailey slips a wet hand round the back of his neck deepening the kiss, hunger growing. Breaking away she taps a finger to his lips chuckling, “Keep that up and we won’t be going any further than behind that drape,” nodding toward his private sleeping area. Her mouth pulls into a rueful line for the part she’d played in his crew member’s mistrust of her, “Touche.” Clearly she hadn’t realized she’d asked a third question for she’s quickly shaking her head, “Yes. No,” a light roll of eyes and then she’s adding in a more grave tone, “What about watching the back of someone who had a hand in ending the life of another?” Yes, that’s question number four, but the intent way the brunette watches every nuance of Rio’s response may point to his answer being of utmost importance to her.
The hand working on massaging the foot slips up her body until the damp palm is cupping her face. Candlario savors that kiss, sating his own hunger, or perhaps just sharpening the edges of it. When she breaks off to talk he chuckles against her hair, head bowed forward. "We have to enjoy dessert first." Is the murmur. He's still nuzzling against her hair when she asks the question, his body tensing and he slowly draws his head back to look at her, eyebrows coming together over guarded eyes. "I guess," He begins slowly, "It depends on the situation at hand. People involved. I don't want to speak for them but--I have put my life in their hands more than once and they keep my secrets."
Oh yay, desert! That has Bailey tucking her legs up under her to kneel, bringing the upper half of her body up out of the water to slide wet arms up under his robe and draw him in closer against her if she can. Of course this means she’s instantly aware of the tension that goes through Rio. Pulling away from him and settling back on her heels watching him warily she asks in a strangled tone, “What if that person...were me??”
Rio admires the sleek Bailey-flesh coming up out of the water, smile warming as she slides her arms around him. It's so easy to let that robe slip open, just enough so that one shoulder slips away from his skin too. Afterall, he's overdressed for this whole bathing thing. He frowns when she tries to move away and his arm tries to keep her in close to him. At her question he actually chuckles, "You? You're talking about you?" His head draws back, gaze very clearly skeptical.
It’s not often that Bailey will be distracted away from things of a more carnal nature, especially not when there’s hard muscled temptation but a hands breadth away. This however, is one of those rare moments. Rio might be laughing; she is not, her expression turned flat though her eyes tell the story of emotion boiling just below the surface. Taking up the sweetsand and washcloth she begins vigorously scrubbing at her arms, heedless of the scratches that sting and bruises that ache as if in some vain hope of cleaning away what she’d done. As such some time passes before she’ll glance up from her task and state through clenched teeth, “I left him there. To die. And now…” despite the hard exterior so vainly painted in place a tear rolls down her cheek, “now I think he might be. Except that, I couldn’t find his body anywhere.”
Candlario chuckles as he shrugs out of his robe completely, tossing it aside. "You know," he begins in a slow tone, "I thought you'd poisoned me, I guess I shouldn't laugh too hard." He reaches out to try to still her harsh scrubbing, concern replacing his amusement. "Bailey, sweetheart." If he can he takes the washcloth from her, "I don't know who you're talking about, but did you have the intention of letting this person die out there? Maybe you can start, you know, earlier in the story?"
Oh dear, -naked- muscled temptationthat somewhat changes things, or at the very least, despite the flat expression draws a slow lingering flow of eyes over Rio. She doesn't fight him for the washcloth, just puts an incredulous look up to the big man, "What the fuck would I have done that for?" on words of poisoning him. Unfortunately all the endearment does is to send another tear sliding down her cheek, the brunette shaking her head as she tries to get a grip. Rubbing the heels of her hands hard against her eyes they come away to reveal a cold visage in reply to his query, "He deserved to," die, "You don't know what he's capable of." Silence again as she tries to figure out where to even begin trying to explain, eventually, "Let's put it this way, I don't exactly come from the best blood around," snort, "Nothing is ever off the table with them," her family. Shrugging, "I thought Ranulf was different, so we left, to do it all proper like, you know? Except there was a storm and...trouble and..." That's about as far as she gets before she's clamming up once again, a finger touching to the scar at the corner of her mouth.
Candlario lets out a quiet breath, shaking his head to her question as to the poisoning and his fears then, he'll answer that another time. There's still worry in his eyes, particularly at the tears, "I can understand that. We can't pick our family." He hesitates but covers it by turning his attention to tending to her washing, more careful of her scrapes and bruises. "So, he didn't do this to you then?" A little too off-handed in the question. When she touches the scar his eyebrow lifts slightly, "It's difficult to turn over a new leaf when you're used to doing things," he frowns to himself, "Differently." A darker tone to that word but he shakes it away, "Is that scar from the trouble you got into?"
Bailey complies, lifting arms, legs etcetera as she is directed to. As to the picking of family, quietly, “Reckon my Mama had the best idea when she took off.” Shrugging that off with no immediate outward display of emotion for it. “The jungles, and a few rocks when I lost my footing in the dark,” in explanation of her current state. “Wouldn’t have been,” so difficult, “If he’d just stuck to the plan and hadn’t decided to go after the bastards that salvaged our cargo. It was just a few crates of furs and things for Faranth’s sake!” As to the scar a harsh laugh clips out, “You should have seen the other guy,” touching it with a fingertip once again, “Apparently people don’t like it so much when you try to take back what’s yours.” Pale eyes regard Rio for a moment and then, “But it can be done, aye?” the doing of things differently. She’s looking to him for something. Hope, re-assurance, the truth?
Candlario's expression is still grim, though it does soften when she assures him it was just a fall, for her current condition. "I'm thankful you didn't break your neck out there." He reaches up and touches the scar on her face and there's a fond smile for her, "Yeah, funny how that works. People not enjoying being stolen from. I take it you got your things back then? Before the storm?" Taking guesses here from what she's told him so far. Her gaze is met, his torn between dry amusement and that lingering concern, "It's not easy. It can be done, but it's not nearly as profitable as the 'other' way. A little boring but a whole lot safer." His hand lifts to brush at one of his own scars with a smirk.
Although the small smile that edges out is coloured with self-deprecation Bailey does seem a little adamant on the subject of thievery, “It was -ours-. Or at least he thought it was,” looking justifiably shamefaced now, “Not like with you.” She lifts a hand to try and capture his and keep it open palmed at her cheek perhaps seeking some or other comfort from it. Shaking her head slowly on the matter of their small cargo, “No, it’s probably all gone by now, sold to the highest bidder,” clarifying, “It went overboard in the storm, they found it and claimed it as their own.” Shifting in the tub the brunette reaches her other hand out, tracing a finger down the line of one of his scars, frowning, “Will you tell me?” what happened to him.
Candlario nods his head while she catches his hand, "I am sorry to hear that. And you returned what you'd taken, so don't look like that." Fingers curling against her cheek and jaw to cup her face, reassuring. "Sounds like a rotten turn for you. I don't blame you for being a bit ruthless. I have to admit that I'd have done the same thing if my back was up against the wall like that. Is this...Ranulf...your family? Do you -want- to go look for him? Do you need to? I'm still not sure--I mean, if you wanted him dead...if you find him what will you do?" At the touch to his own scars he frowns but doesn't draw away this time. "I want to tell you, about everything. But you might not like it much."
Bailey leans her head into his hand, bringing her shoulder up to keep it there a moment longer and then snorting as it drops away again, “Not exactly the way to go about turning over a new leaf, stealing from the first person you come across.” Brows lift and she settles an even look onto Rio for words of ruthlessness but she doesn’t lend voice to any further comment thereon. “My cousin,” as to who Ranulf is, perplexed now, “didn’t really want him dead, just wanted him…gone.” And now that he is she doesn’t seem too happy about it at all, “They have my carrysack,” the ones she suspects of having done her cousin in, “What if they coming looking for me next?” and therein lies the crux of the matter. It appears she’s done with this bathing lark, for soon she’s standing and climbing out of the tub looking quite set on curling up into his lap if that’s at all possible. No thought given to the water streaming off of her and onto the flooring and certainly not intended as a sensual move either. Tipping her head up to capture his eyes, “Like what you’ve heard so far?” this to him telling her his own story.
Fingers trace the line of the scar again while she's leaning into his hand and then across the corner of her mouth, "Turning over a new leaf takes time and effort. It isn't easy." So says the big man as she draws away from him. He is startled to find her settling into his lap, but grabs up the thick towel nearby and wraps it around her and then folds her in his arms. Protective and warm. "Alright, so you left him and went and got himself killed by someone. Think it was the ones that took your cargo?" Going all business-like about this whole thing, "What was in your carrysack?" And, grim, "No one is going to harm you." Period. His hand rubs up along her back, trying to sooth her, "I'm not racing for the door am I? You didn't hire anyone to go out there and do him in. You can't blame yourself if he can't take care of himself."
Big fluffy towel and big strong arms around her has Bailey settling in, leaning her head against him, a hand idly tracing patterns across his chest as she listens. “Could be,” the ones that took their cargo, “More likely the crew from the Seasprite,” catching her lip between her teeth briefly and then continuing on, “The ones Ranulf had us hit thinking they had our crates,” lifting her head to peer up at Rio, “the skipper had my Mama’s little wooden box that we kept our marks in though.” As to her carrysack, a blend of regret and worry swim in her eyes, “The shell necklace Palia made me, a few other odds and ends and…” hesitating before admitting to the stupidity of the next, “a map charting my course here,” to Ista. A half smile appears and she reaches up to palm a touch to his face, “That’s not what I meant. You’re not bolting for the door, so why would I?” a brow lifting in prompt for him to reveal the origin of those scars.
A small kiss is placed on Bailey's temple as he makes her comfortable against him, the touches to reassure rather than to arouse. "It doesn't sound as though he was being very helpful in the whole 'leaf-turning' business if you ask me." Candlario notes quietly. Her response about the map brings out a small hiss of disapproval and then a sigh, "Well, shards and shells girl. I don't like the sound of some murdering pirates coming here to Ista. You could come with me, to Driftwood and lay low. A couple weeks for the trip and a couple more back. Make them sweat it out here." That suggestion voiced, it comes back to his scars and he smirks and lets out a breath, "Alright then. My father arranged a fine marriage for me when I was very young. It was a very good match as far as the parents were concerned. I guess it was supposed to instil a sense of duty in me, but my wife was such a bitch. And as rich as her family was, her cousins were a wild bunch. I tried to impress them-" he frowns at the memory and skips over some finer details, "I got mixed up on some rather unsavory dealings while trying to get in good with them."
“Don’t think doing so was ever a part of his plan,” this to the turning over of new leaves, “wouldn’t be surprised if Lyson,” naming another unfamiliar name, “set it all up as a way to expand the family business right from the get go.” Eyes go wide and Bailey pales a few shades as she pulls away from her lean against him, “And have them telling any here that will listen what happened and how I was involved?” muttering in quiet hopefulness, “perhaps they won’t find it,” the map, “or understand the code we use.” She tries; she really does try to mask her reaction to something Rio reveals about his past. However, the slight stiffening of her frame and furtive glance toward his private sleeping area might not go unnoticed. Her expression closes and she moves to disentangle herself from both his lap and embrace. With eyes narrowing, “Your -wife-!?”
"You've a point there. You could go and tell the Weyrwoman. Lay out your part of the story. You weren't involved with him getting himself dead. Although, who is Lyson?" He frowns at the sudden tightening of the woman in his arms and his nose begins to crinkle up in a look of distaste at her sudden violent reaction to his explanation. "Oh shards. Bailey." The downward tip of his lips melting into a stricken expression when he barely scratches the surface of his little story and she's already flying away. "For fucks sake-you said you wanted to hear this!"
Brows pitch upward, “Yes, because she and I are like this,” demonstrating by crossing her first two fingers over each other. Cue the eye roll at the end. As to Lyson, “One of my brothers.” From frightened kitten to spitting wildcat in a heartbeat. Backing away from Rio while keeping eyes ablaze with fury pinned on him, Bailey pulls the towel tighter around her with one hand, the other reaching for the discarded rum bottle on his desk, “You never fucking said you were married before! Ever! You two-timing son of a bitch!” Her arm goes back and the bottle gets hurled at him as she growls, “I am no one’s fucking dock whore away from home!”
It's really not fair to fight with a man who's naked. Honestly! His previously warmed lap is too quickly vacated and he's scrambling to his feet, too dumbstruck to even grab up the robe or cover himself. "Are you -CRAZY-?" Staring at her as she picks up the bottle and one hand drops down to cover himself now before bending to grab his robe at last, there's real concern for his man-bits at this point. "You never asked. It doesn't matter." The talk of her situation is glossed over for now in favor of dodging the bottle that whirls by his head. It shatters against the wall behind him, which makes a fine mess of things there between the liquor and glass.
In a more rational state of mind, Bailey would quite likely have found the spectacle before her one of high hilarity - naked man in fear of his dangly bits trying to dodge bottles. “Clearly!” she snarls as she takes up the first thing that comes to hand (one of his ledgers) and hurls that next as she snaps, “For ever having gotten involved with you!” Instead of backing away further the brunette begins to stalk closer, her voice pitching up an octave in incredulity, “It doesn’t -matter-!?” the hand that had been holding her towel closed snaps up to slap as hard a strike as she can across his face if he doesn’t move in time, “Of course it fucking matters!! You’re -married- you stupid bloody idiot!” With the towel now puddled at her feet she’s in just as much of a ridiculous state, chest heaving with anger, eyes demanding an explanation. It would appear this particular matter far ascends whatever else she might have to contend with in her life.
There are so many throw-able things in this room, Rio should be pleased that it's only the book that comes his way, sadly though it beans him on the shoulder while he's getting the robe on. Hard to get clothing on while covering your loins too. With an oath he snarls back at her, "You weren't complaining about it when I was...." He doesn't get to finish though, since she slaps him so hard he looses track of what he was saying completely. Keeping his head tipped away from her, it's a moment before he can collect himself enough to look back at her, "I -was- married." Voice too quiet, not matching the rage burning in his eyes. "She is DEAD." He points to the door, "I don't owe her a breath more faithfulness in death when she never returned that favor when she was still breathing. So if you want to be jealous of a corpse-leave right now."
That half finished sentence would have been enough to have had Bailey physically launching herself at him if not for what gets said next. As it is it’s a moment or two before what Rio says starts to sink in. Uncertainty hovers behind previously ice cold eyes, anger wavering, “Dead?” Frowning heavily the brunette swallows slowly and takes a step backward, shaking her head slightly, “Shit,” muttered in low perplexity. Now the information truly hits its mark and once again, she pales beneath tanned skin, “Sweet Faranth! I…I didn’t know.” She almost trips over the towel as she backtracks, stoops to pick it up and wraps it about herself, “Rio…I’m sorry. I’ll go.” Not because she’s jealous of a dead woman, but because she’s feeling like one prize ass round about now.
"Oh sure. Go." Bitter laughter spills out of Candlario as he throws his arms up and shrugs into his robe. He's still choking on so much of his anger and shame that he can't even look at her. So much for coaxing the big guy to open up. He kicks the tray that's balanced over the tub sending dishes and food flying. Giving no indication that it hurt, but smirking at the resulting mess and sound of breaking dishes. Muttering under his breath, he stomps across the room without even a look to see if she's going to dress before she leaves.
Nope, no way in hell Bailey’s hanging around long enough to get dressed, the towel will do just fine, though it might earn her some strange looks from any of Rio’s crew that might have heard the ruckus and are currently hanging about outside. There’s a definite cringe as the big man sends the tray flying, and a regretful glance to the bath of now cold water. She opens her mouth once or twice as if to try and say something that might soothe the situation but ends up simply shaking her head and sending an unreadable look his way before quietly slipping out and closing the cabin door behind her.
RL: 2010.04.29
Looking like she's been pulled through a bush backwards, Bailey finally returns with a gift for Rio. It all goes horribly wrong at the end.
Thanks to Rio's player for his patience over the three days this took to get done. You rock dude!
Candlario's Boat, Ista Weyr
As you ascend the triple masted ship, you can appreciate her size first hand. The canvast of her three lateen rigged sails are age worn and stained but in working order. The main sail is lowered and secured in the sail bag, the mizzen sail is lowered and secured in the sail bag, and the fore sail is lowered and secured in the sail bag. The mooring lines are rigged securely to the chalks and bollards on the docks. Her anchor is hoisted clear of the waterline with the chain stowed in the chain locker. The deck under your feet is weather worn, the wood bleached of color but protected by a layer of wax and polish. It is framed by a rail waist high of faded green paint and tarnished silver support rods. A cabin rests below deck, entered from a step down from deck where a black door is currently closed. From the deck, the captain's wheel gleams black, each spoke carved to form a radiant sun.
Contents:
Candlario
Obvious exits:
Docks
The shirt-on-loan that was pretty decent to begin with, is now torn in several places. Worn over a tiny pair of shorts, with sleeves rolled up and hanging open in the front, bared midriff, arms and legs display a legend of scratches and bruises. A long red welt slides down one cheek adding to the wild-eyed dishevelled appearance of the brunette as she ascends the gangplank with a half-empty bottle of rum in one hand, and a cloth wrapped bundle in the other. Bellowing loud enough to awaken the dead, “Rio!” waiting but a heartbeat for a response and then adding as she makes as if to weave her way toward the skipper’s cabin, “Get your ass out here, I got something for you!” No quiet or docile arrival, just that brash and bold summons. The missing half of the rum bottle doing the talking maybe?
The man on guard blinks, white-faced at the condition of the lady coming up to board the ship. He's so taken aback that he even takes a stumbling step backwards before a, "Are you ok?" His concern goes unnoticed but he does trail after the drunken girl. It takes a bit for a response to her calling, a couple more of her shouts bring a reply in the form of a shout from within the cabin, "What is it? It's sharding -Late-." Then the sound of footsteps and the door comes flying open. Rio with his robe thrown on, eyes squinted from sleep as he gives Bailey a bleary-eyed look over. Her state bringing him quickly awake but not so awake that he can form a good response to her.
Bailey turns an expressionless look the guard’s way, “’M fine,” she states and continues on her way toward the cabin taking a swig from the rum bottle as she goes. Pale eyes narrow at Rio’s words, her lips drawing back into a dark smirk as she opens her mouth to hurl something in response. That is until he comes bursting out of his cabin with just a robe on. Keeping her attention on him, she throws back another mouthful, swipes the back of her hand across her mouth and adopts a cocky stance with one hip thrust out, putting her weight on the other leg. Sardonic, “So sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, lover boy.” The hand with the cloth wrapped bundle suddenly swings up and shoves toward him, “Here, I found these for you.” If the big man gets as far as taking a peek inside, he’ll find what looks to be six firelizard eggs that are almost completely hardened and hinting toward hatching in the next day or two.
A look passes across Rio's face, as though he's trying to figure out if Bailey has completely lost her mind. "What the fuck happened to you?" Noticing her scratches and that welt but there's a little longer look at the bruises, which might make her think he is being lewd and sizing her up, except for the mixture of concern and anger on his face. The expression hardens into one of deeper anger when he finds the bundle in his hands and he has to rip his gaze off her to see what she's got for him. "You got yourself all scraped up and went off....who-knows-where for firelizard eggs? I didn't want them /that/ badly." But instead of pushing them back on her, he holds them in closer, taking a step towards the girl, "I should shake your silliness right out of you."
Either she’s not aware of what she looks like, or she just doesn’t care at this moment in time. Bailey puts a passing glance down over herself, and then shrugs, “Got a bit banged up.” No kidding. With a wrinkle of nose she plucks at a corner of the shirt, “Broke your shirt. Sorry ‘bout that.” Which she does seem to be. The anger coming off of Rio has her brow crinkling together in a frown and as he comes closer, she takes a wary step backward. Shaking her head and shooting him a look as if he were the one not in complete control of his sanity rather than her, “No, just found them while I was away but I’m back now.” Like that explains it all and makes everything alright. Fingers curl tighter around the bottle and the hand freed of the cloth wrapped burden clenches into a fist at his last, warning in a low tone, “Just try it.” As if he were the one responsible for whatever brought her to this point.
"Competent woman.......able to take care of herself... " He mutters something along those lines, but it's so quiet, under the grumbles Candlario is making as he keeps looking over Bailey. Trying to convince himself perhaps. It's only when he finally notices that she's retreating from his forward steps that he forces himself to stop, giving a shake of his head, "Damn'It Woman. Alright. -Fine-. Obviously you didn't need me going off and hunting your little Ass down." Although his expression doesn't match the words, he looks her up and down again, "And I'm not going to -hurt- you. For goodness sakes." And then, in a softer tone, "Bailey..I've -Missed- you."
Bailey watches him through a closed expression as he grumbles, the scrutiny causing her to make an attempt at pulling the tattered shirt closed around her. Her jaw tightens and releases a few times before she eventually says low, “Told you not to come looking for me.” However it’s his last that has some of the tension slipping off of her and her head tipping to one side for a moment as if turning over his statement in her head. With a slow exhalation of breath a few cracks start showing, most noticeably in the chew of her bottom lip and frown as she looks away in an attempt to bury it all back down again, heedless of any that may be standing around watching this scenario play out. Quietly spoken, almost tentative, “You did?” miss her.
"I really did. I was starting to think that you wouldn't come back." Candlario admits, after a look towards the men who are milling around with concern on their faces too. Even old one-eyed Fremond is in the background and not looking nearly as snarly. "I followed your wishes though--against my better judgement...." The look over her suggests that he's feeling more than a little bitterness of guilt at her condition. "Let me get you something to eat. Clothes." He opens one arm towards her, invitation for her to come to him though he's no longer stalking towards her.
For the first time that evening, the hint of a smile edges out for Rio’s admission, “I’m glad I’m back.” Bailey-speak for ‘I missed you too’. She leaves his comment alone about not having come looking for her giving just a nod that she’d heard him. It’s only when the big man draws attention to her attire that the brunette notices his men and the looks she’s getting from them. Funny that it’s their concern that ruffles her more than if they’d been leering her way. And then of course there’s talk of food too. “I’m starving!” that she easily admits as she slips in under his arm and through the doorway into his cabin. Lifting the half-empty rum bottle she makes a poor attempt at humour, “I brought something for us to drink. And then I got thirsty.” Given the cracks in her façade, it quite likely falls flat.
Candlario's arm loops around her in a protective snare rather than the anger he was radiating earlier with threats to shake her. Once he's got her secure against him he calls over his shoulder for food to be delivered right away. "I want towels and the big basin--extra hot. Food--the fresh crust of bread and ... whatever else. And stop staring at her you fools." Which is mostly pretend for 'keep your eyes off my lady' instead of the more obvious reason they are gaping. Once the door is closed and secured he kisses the side of her head if he's able to, "You got thirsty huh? Well, let me have some of that while I get you something to wear....you're half naked." A look at the welts and though there are questions, he's not asking just yet.
Bailey has no qualms about leaning in against him, resting her forehead briefly against his chest listening to his voice rumbling out the orders but making no protests at the moment. She’ll allow the kiss to her head and then pulls away from him, her frame still holding tautness to it. Perhaps dreading the unspoken questions his eyes keep asking. The bottle is held out to him and then she steps away turning her back to Rio as she wraps her arms up about herself. Choosing a subject of neutral territory her voice taking on a bland nature, “They’ll probably hatch soon.” The firelizard eggs.
There's no questions for now, and only a grunt about the firelizards eggs. For all seeming dismissal of them though he does settle them down in a safe place on his desk all wrapped up. Taking the bottle he gives her another look and a small sigh before tipping the drink back to have a good sized swig from it. "How much do I owe you anyway?" Swirling the liquid in the bottle around and around as he stands there, not going to fetch the clothes after all. "You don't have to worry about anything in here ... " Taking her tight posture for concern for her safety in his room.
“I found them in the sand, in the sun. You should get a bowl and put some sand in it and keep it near a fire to stay warm or something.” The woman appears determined to try and stay on that topic. Then again, she could be genuinely concerned for the safety of the un-hatched firelizards. Turning toward the sound of his voice Bailey affords his question a small smile and shake of head, “You don’t owe me anything. I found them by accident when I was looking for…” her mouth clamps shut and her words trail off. A quick intake of breath and a flick of tangled hair in an effort to compose herself she takes a step back in toward Rio, lips quirking slightly, “I’m not scared of you.” Which doesn’t mean to say there’s not something else out there that frightens her, evidenced in her next, “Can…can I stay here?” quickly adding, “just for tonight.” The lack of any clothing being offered forward appears to be a moot point with her for the time being.
"I'll have one of the men get sand when they bring food." Candlario tells her, with soft reasurance. "And I do owe you. You did a job for me." A small crinkle of his nose at her refusal of his marks, or maybe at her unfinished statement. Setting the bottle on the corner of the desk instead of passing it back, he frowns at it before murmuring, "I'm glad you're not scared of me." He opens his arms again, closing the distance, "You can stay here. My little Sin." That's when the soft knock comes and he calls for them to come in. There's not only food brought in, but those towels and two men struggle with a basin of water. "Set that there, and over there with the food. Right. And, I need a pot with sand. For the little eggs. Warm sand." A look to Bailey for her agreement on the condition of the sand, he doesn't know.
Reassured, some of the concern for the safety of the eggs drains off and finds Bailey tipping her head once again at the open armed gesture coming from the big dark skinned man. Clearly, this kind of treatment is not something she’s familiar with. Though she doesn’t back away a small frown forms when he agrees to letting her stay mumbling stubbornly, “’M not little!” That is until his men appear with food, towels and the basin of water. Taking a half step back from their skipper she watches with interest flicking a glance sideways over to Rio as he looks to her for guidance on the eggs. “That’s what they were in when I found them?” she’s not too sure about that herself, “Maybe we should ask a ‘rider?”
He gives her a squeeze, though a careful one if she'd notice, before letting her go to attend to the bath and food. One amused glance is spared for her over his shoulder before Rio sends the men off to get sand, "We're not going to go tromping off looking for a dragon rider at this hour." He looks torn between getting her to eat and getting her to bathe for a moment. Only a short moment at that though. "Alright, into the bath then, Not-Little-Sin. And you can soak and eat at the same time. I'll even promise not to look. Much." Though he's not looking at her in a sexual manner right now, there's too much of that caged concern for her being held at bay for the moment.
Get into the basin? Bailey looks a little nonplussed by that her gaze alternating between the basin of temptingly steaming water and Rio's face to see if perhaps he may be pulling her leg. Her next words might clarify her hesitance, small wonder in her tone, "Like a lady holder?" Clearly someone's never experienced the luxury of such a thing outside of showers. Though the thought seems to please her for she doesn't wait for his reply and is soon stripping off to do as bidden, sticking her tongue out at him as she does so for the 'Not-Little-Sin' quip. His shirt however is carefully laid to one side, "I can fix that." Promises of his not looking simply draw a smirk from the brunette who comes back with, "Liar," wincing only once or twice when the hot water meets grazes and scratches.
"Of course." Candlario laughs softly at her question and adds a shake of his head, puzzling over her shock at the question. "Can't just scrub off in sea water all the time." He steps to the cabinet and opens it with a small key and rustles around with a few boxes within, coming up at last with the sweetsand pouch. "You don't have to be so careful with that shirt you know." He tells her when he sees it laid out so. The pouch of sand is passed over, "Sorry it's...not really girly." But it's clean smelling. There's a washcloth too--such finery. "You can eat while you soak." He looks at her and admits as he kneels beside the tub, "This is very difficult for me." Not looking at her, just over her shoulder, polite. See. It can be done.
Bailey tries very hard to hide whatever embarrassment she might be experiencing for having let her inexperience with such things slip, however the rosy hue touching to her cheeks might give her away, then again, that could be induced by the hot water itself. With a snort she corrects, “I’m not a total drudge,” this to using salt water to bathe, adding for clarification, “Spring or fresh river water.” There, see? Taking the pouch of soapsand and washcloth a small grin appears, “Now I’m going to smell like you.” Damp fingers reach out and stroke lightly down the side of Rio’s cheek, “Not anything you haven’t seen before,” the brunette reminds then holds out ‘sand and washcloth to him, “Wash my back?” The food is given a considering look and then, “We can eat afterwards,” including him in that, “Or maybe now, ‘cause I’m never getting out.” It would seem someone’s created a bath monster.
Candlario leans his face into her hand and murmurs in appreciation, "Oh, right. Spring water is much better." Grinning at her blush but not trying to embarrass her further. "Been sharding dull as shit around here without you." He tells her gruffly, like it's all her fault he hasn't been entertained. That is better than worrying over her, though she might catch his expression as he takes the washcloth and lathers it up with a bit of the soap. "I can think of more enjoyable ways of making you smell like me." He murmurs, bending close to her while shifting to get her back. "I'll get your back first and then you can get food." Silence as her back is washed, accustomed to such niceties it seems, or just good with his hands maybe. "Will you ever tell me what happened?"
Bailey can’t help but turn an amused look up to Rio, “No fancy women, or wild parties while I was away? How disappointing.” His words do seem to have hit the mark for there’s a pleased little wriggle although that could be for his comment on trading scent, “You need a bigger tub so you can fit in too.” My, my, one bath and now we’re making demands. Hands lift to hold her hair up out of the way, a low sound of pleasure over those hands on her back that know what to do. Easy agreement comes next, “My back and then food. Then my legs, and afterwards…desert?” there’s no mistaking the sly and hopeful tone to her voice. Whatever lightning of her mood that had started appearing now slips off at the question put to her, the brunette’s fingers tightening slightly in her hair. Busy with washing her back as he is, the tight squeeze of eyes and frown that appears may go unnoticed. Sucking in a long cleansing breath her head moves slowly from side to side as she states grimly, “The less you know the better. This is my problem, not yours.” At least she’s admitting that there is one.
Candlario shakes his head, letting out a sullen puff of breath, "No fancy women, just lots of order taking and order filling for our return home." He laughs about the bigger tub, "I'll think about that--but it might take some creative smith to make it big enough for you and I together." He leans in as his hands press against her shoulders but doesn't speak just yet. His strong fingers stroke up and down alone the curve of her spine, working soap in, but turning teasing as she speaks of dessert. Still, not saying anything, just a low sound of disaproval at the response. Finally, as he's cupping water into his hands to rinse off the suds he murmurs, "I understand. I don't like that you don't trust me enough to share this burden with me though."
Twisting her head in his direction, Bailey puts a look of keen interest on her human washcloth over talk of business, "Oh? But that's a good thing isn't it?" Trying to pinpoint the source of Rio's sullenness there. Brows lift and form her expression into a suggestive line, "Or just figure out creative ways to use this one." Hands doing all kinds of things in the name of good, clean fun and talk of a more serious nature have the brunette quiet for many long moments, almost as if she'd not heard his last as she gives in to his ministrations. That is until hands drop away from her hair allowing it to fall down her back again and she twists around to try and find those hazel eyes of his. "And if I did," tell him her situation, "How do I know you wouldn't just truss me up, lock me in your hold and call the Weyrleaders, hmm?" Yeah, trust seems to be a bit of an issue there. Turning away from him once again she passes a damp hand over her eyes and states softly as she gathers her legs up under her as if to get out of the tub, "Told you, I was trouble."
A soft kiss is placed on the shell of Bailey's ear as she starts to turn her head and he draws back with a sly smile for her, "It is a good thing. But it's still work. I am looking forward to being at sea again." He starts to say more but stops himself, just grinning at her before he tries to touch her cheek. He lets her lounge in the basin as he goes to get the tray of food. Bread, hard cheese, a sparce bit of heardbeast sliced up and slathered with some gravy and boiled and sliced tubers. Simple food. "Why do you believe that I'd do anything like that?" Sounding a touch offended. "You don't know me very well....maybe when you feel more comfortable with me...." The words trail off, though he does smirk a bit at her being trouble. "Sinful Trouble."
While the interest in his business dealings remains, a light scowl appears, "You're going to be setting sail soon?" Never mind that she just upped and left without as much as a by-your-leave. Bailey leans her head lightly against the touch to her cheek and then settles herself back down in the tub again when he goes to retrieve the tray of food. Watching the big man as he moves about bare shoulders lift and fall in a shrug, and then she pins an intent look on him, "No, I don't know you. For all I know you're here under orders from..." ahem, never mind. Her mouth briefly follows the same smirk as his and then she's folding her arms along the edge of the tub and resting her chin on them, "So how about this, you tell me something you'd never tell anyone else about yourself, and then maybe I'll tell you what happened." The gravity of her tone lending weight to her words.
"The ship will be going back, I may not be. Or I may. I haven't decided yet to be honest." A shrug goes along with it, to show how fixed he is on the idea. "I have heard there is to be a hatching at some point and I wouldn't mind seeing that. Maybe I could pay a dragon rider to search me." As he settles in, he makes a show of curling a non-existent mustache to the suggestion that he's a spy for 'someone' and laughs outright. He sets the tray over the tub so she can eat while he sits across from her-outside the tub but on the floor. "Tell you something I wouldn't tell anyone else" Rio's voice softens slightly and he gives her a wary look but after a pause asks, "What sort of things would you -want- to know about?"
Echoing his words through a low chuckle, “…haven’t decided yet…” Bailey takes to as languid a stretch as the confines of the tub will allow for, “Guess I’ll just have to help you make up your mind.” Shameless hussy! Once the tray is settled she’s quickly reaching forward and tearing off a chunk of bread and dipping it in the herdbeast gravy. Stopping just short of taking a bite, she stares at Rio as if he’d just announced he’d grown a third arm, “Why the hell would you want to do a thing like -that-?” pay someone to search him. The brunette meets his wary look with a lifted brow, tit for tat. Pale eyes flow a long considering look over him before she counters with another question of her own, “How many questions do I get?”
There's a wink for the undecided part and he reaches out to sneak one of the tubers from her plate to eat. "Mmm. I'm so very tempted to stay." Letting a lingering look play over her and even dipping a finger into the tub to splash at her. "I'd have to stay up at the Weyr though." A small crinkle of his nose about that followed with a laugh, "I wouldn't really. Pay for it that is. It would be funny though. Imagine their insulted looks." Candlario meets her gaze, still considering the matter of laying secrets out before them. "I don't know.you're just as likely to bolt out of here and that tub as you think I am if you tell me things." He wavers though, "how about you can ask me three questions now though I'm free to not answer one if it's too delicate. And you answer me what happened to you if you feel comfortable."
Bailey tries to capture that finger splashing water at her, "Then stay. With me." Instead of up at the Weyr. She catches the humour in the comment made over Search, chuckling in response, "Wonder what a dragon egg would go for?" ever the trader it seems. The brunette considers his words for a moment, and then slowly shakes her head, "Staying right here," in the tub, or with him, or both? Nodding now as she reaches for a piece of hard cheese, "Okay," a nibble, savouring the taste and then, "First question. Why are your men so protective of you and see me as such a threat?" Yes, she'd noticed that.
Candlario is easily caught, grinning at her as he curls his finger in her grasp while it lasts. "Really? Stay with you? Are you're sure you're ready to have a man about your ship mussing around with things?" And yes, he does look particularly happy about that arrangement. "I imagine the egg would go for cheap, but the standing spot much more. They should do that find the ones their dragons want and then make them pay up for the 'honor' of standing. Then they'd get some marks and free labor while the moon-eyed brats linger around for the eggs." Her question is turned over in silence but not before a small chuckle, "You'd have to ask them." But he doesn't leave it at that. "I hired them to keep me from trouble. I helped one or two of them out of a nasty pinch or two and they helped me when I happened to get myself into a pickle a turn or so back." He looks at her, both amused and still a bit wary, "They act as itchy like that around most folks they don't know because I pay them not to allow things to go missing. That part wasn't particular to you. Guess we all have trust issues on this ship."
Using her captured prize (his finger) Bailey rubs at her temple with it as if reconsidering her offer of somewhere for Rio to stay. Wrinkling her nose a little she then moves his finger to tap her lips, (such a useful item its turning out to be), finally replying as solemnly as possible, “Just don’t go wanting to borrow my clothes,” and with a little more sincerity, “don’t have a bed, just the hammock. Don’t need the hold right now, so that could be converted.” Releasing his finger a slice of tuber is next to be selected, wolfed down and followed by another in quick succession. So much so that she almost chokes while trying to laugh and swallow at the same time when it comes to candidates and eggs. Setting that aside the brunette takes his reply in and fits him with a contemplative look, asking quietly as a piece of herdbeast is taken up, “What kind of trouble did you get into?” That’s two out of three.
That fingertip, rough from work and the sea, brushes along her lower lip when it comes into range but just lingers long enough as she allows it. When he is released, the hand dips back into the water, reaching for one of her feet to rub it. Amusement at his temperary setup makes Candlario's eyes shine back at her, "I think that sounds fine. I'll even see a weaver about some real clothes. That is, unless you'd like to take the trip back with me. Could be honest work in it for you." At the question though his gaze slips away from hers, "I knew I couldn't get out of it that easily. I used to get myself into a lot of trouble. You see, I never wanted my father's business and I was scornful of all the hard work he put into things. I just wanted the marks. Lots of marks. It took me a very long time to learn how to earn them honestly." A small smirk there and he looks back at her, something dark and dangerous in that look but also a bit haunted. "It's difficult to explain it -all-."
With strong hands working on her foot, Bailey’s head leans back against the tub, eyes sliding closed as a low groan of appreciation slides out. Lashes flicker and she regards Rio from under them a small smirk forming, “And bring this too,” tapping fingers against the side of the tub. Eyes open fully at the offer made, her expression showing signs of being eager to do so but then she’s shaking her head, lips pressing into a firm line, “Never going back there.” To the southern continent. The head of half wet, half-dry hair tips to one side and a hand lifts from the water to stroke a light touch down the side of his arm as she meets that dark look dead on, “That was then, this is now.” Giving him easy quarter for whatever the sins of his past may have been. With a wry twist of lips, “It’s when the past comes back to bite you in the ass that things get a little…squirly, aye?” Either offering a hint of her own predicament or simply making a statement of empathy.
"Not going back where? You've never been to Driftwood Bay. It's nice. Out of the way of the main port and quiet. I've a -real- bathing tub there." Candlario's tone every inch of tempting the woman to join him on some mini adventure. "You'd be safe as a babe in arms on this ship. Save for Fremond trying to grope you maybe." Just as eager, but tempered by the firmness of her resolve for now. "That's true. The past coming back is a concern. Which is why it's good to have people you trust at your back." One eyebrow lifts slowly, curious but waiting to see what the last question just might be.
Rio makes such persuasive argument to join him that it’s clear to see the hesitation hovering behind pale eyes. With a short laugh, “I’m less worried about his hands and more worried about that blade of his. If memory serves...he promised me a dance.” It’s a possibility that she may very well be reconsidering her options of going along on the trip. The last question slips out on the heels of his response, “And just how far is the one watching your back prepared to go?” His, hers, both of theirs.
Leaning in, Rio places a soft kiss to her lips, he's not above using some leverage to get his way either you see. "Mmm, it'll just be a short trip to exchange supplies." A shadow passes his features at the 'dance' suggestion and he snorts, "I think that you had earned more than a little of his mistrust beautiful. He might not take up warm and cozy with you, but...you'd not come to any harm." Not drawing back he grins, "Is that my third question? I'd say the back-watching is pretty serious stuff--although I am not one to tempt fate with putting words to the lengths a faithful mate will go to."
Bailey slips a wet hand round the back of his neck deepening the kiss, hunger growing. Breaking away she taps a finger to his lips chuckling, “Keep that up and we won’t be going any further than behind that drape,” nodding toward his private sleeping area. Her mouth pulls into a rueful line for the part she’d played in his crew member’s mistrust of her, “Touche.” Clearly she hadn’t realized she’d asked a third question for she’s quickly shaking her head, “Yes. No,” a light roll of eyes and then she’s adding in a more grave tone, “What about watching the back of someone who had a hand in ending the life of another?” Yes, that’s question number four, but the intent way the brunette watches every nuance of Rio’s response may point to his answer being of utmost importance to her.
The hand working on massaging the foot slips up her body until the damp palm is cupping her face. Candlario savors that kiss, sating his own hunger, or perhaps just sharpening the edges of it. When she breaks off to talk he chuckles against her hair, head bowed forward. "We have to enjoy dessert first." Is the murmur. He's still nuzzling against her hair when she asks the question, his body tensing and he slowly draws his head back to look at her, eyebrows coming together over guarded eyes. "I guess," He begins slowly, "It depends on the situation at hand. People involved. I don't want to speak for them but--I have put my life in their hands more than once and they keep my secrets."
Oh yay, desert! That has Bailey tucking her legs up under her to kneel, bringing the upper half of her body up out of the water to slide wet arms up under his robe and draw him in closer against her if she can. Of course this means she’s instantly aware of the tension that goes through Rio. Pulling away from him and settling back on her heels watching him warily she asks in a strangled tone, “What if that person...were me??”
Rio admires the sleek Bailey-flesh coming up out of the water, smile warming as she slides her arms around him. It's so easy to let that robe slip open, just enough so that one shoulder slips away from his skin too. Afterall, he's overdressed for this whole bathing thing. He frowns when she tries to move away and his arm tries to keep her in close to him. At her question he actually chuckles, "You? You're talking about you?" His head draws back, gaze very clearly skeptical.
It’s not often that Bailey will be distracted away from things of a more carnal nature, especially not when there’s hard muscled temptation but a hands breadth away. This however, is one of those rare moments. Rio might be laughing; she is not, her expression turned flat though her eyes tell the story of emotion boiling just below the surface. Taking up the sweetsand and washcloth she begins vigorously scrubbing at her arms, heedless of the scratches that sting and bruises that ache as if in some vain hope of cleaning away what she’d done. As such some time passes before she’ll glance up from her task and state through clenched teeth, “I left him there. To die. And now…” despite the hard exterior so vainly painted in place a tear rolls down her cheek, “now I think he might be. Except that, I couldn’t find his body anywhere.”
Candlario chuckles as he shrugs out of his robe completely, tossing it aside. "You know," he begins in a slow tone, "I thought you'd poisoned me, I guess I shouldn't laugh too hard." He reaches out to try to still her harsh scrubbing, concern replacing his amusement. "Bailey, sweetheart." If he can he takes the washcloth from her, "I don't know who you're talking about, but did you have the intention of letting this person die out there? Maybe you can start, you know, earlier in the story?"
Oh dear, -naked- muscled temptationthat somewhat changes things, or at the very least, despite the flat expression draws a slow lingering flow of eyes over Rio. She doesn't fight him for the washcloth, just puts an incredulous look up to the big man, "What the fuck would I have done that for?" on words of poisoning him. Unfortunately all the endearment does is to send another tear sliding down her cheek, the brunette shaking her head as she tries to get a grip. Rubbing the heels of her hands hard against her eyes they come away to reveal a cold visage in reply to his query, "He deserved to," die, "You don't know what he's capable of." Silence again as she tries to figure out where to even begin trying to explain, eventually, "Let's put it this way, I don't exactly come from the best blood around," snort, "Nothing is ever off the table with them," her family. Shrugging, "I thought Ranulf was different, so we left, to do it all proper like, you know? Except there was a storm and...trouble and..." That's about as far as she gets before she's clamming up once again, a finger touching to the scar at the corner of her mouth.
Candlario lets out a quiet breath, shaking his head to her question as to the poisoning and his fears then, he'll answer that another time. There's still worry in his eyes, particularly at the tears, "I can understand that. We can't pick our family." He hesitates but covers it by turning his attention to tending to her washing, more careful of her scrapes and bruises. "So, he didn't do this to you then?" A little too off-handed in the question. When she touches the scar his eyebrow lifts slightly, "It's difficult to turn over a new leaf when you're used to doing things," he frowns to himself, "Differently." A darker tone to that word but he shakes it away, "Is that scar from the trouble you got into?"
Bailey complies, lifting arms, legs etcetera as she is directed to. As to the picking of family, quietly, “Reckon my Mama had the best idea when she took off.” Shrugging that off with no immediate outward display of emotion for it. “The jungles, and a few rocks when I lost my footing in the dark,” in explanation of her current state. “Wouldn’t have been,” so difficult, “If he’d just stuck to the plan and hadn’t decided to go after the bastards that salvaged our cargo. It was just a few crates of furs and things for Faranth’s sake!” As to the scar a harsh laugh clips out, “You should have seen the other guy,” touching it with a fingertip once again, “Apparently people don’t like it so much when you try to take back what’s yours.” Pale eyes regard Rio for a moment and then, “But it can be done, aye?” the doing of things differently. She’s looking to him for something. Hope, re-assurance, the truth?
Candlario's expression is still grim, though it does soften when she assures him it was just a fall, for her current condition. "I'm thankful you didn't break your neck out there." He reaches up and touches the scar on her face and there's a fond smile for her, "Yeah, funny how that works. People not enjoying being stolen from. I take it you got your things back then? Before the storm?" Taking guesses here from what she's told him so far. Her gaze is met, his torn between dry amusement and that lingering concern, "It's not easy. It can be done, but it's not nearly as profitable as the 'other' way. A little boring but a whole lot safer." His hand lifts to brush at one of his own scars with a smirk.
Although the small smile that edges out is coloured with self-deprecation Bailey does seem a little adamant on the subject of thievery, “It was -ours-. Or at least he thought it was,” looking justifiably shamefaced now, “Not like with you.” She lifts a hand to try and capture his and keep it open palmed at her cheek perhaps seeking some or other comfort from it. Shaking her head slowly on the matter of their small cargo, “No, it’s probably all gone by now, sold to the highest bidder,” clarifying, “It went overboard in the storm, they found it and claimed it as their own.” Shifting in the tub the brunette reaches her other hand out, tracing a finger down the line of one of his scars, frowning, “Will you tell me?” what happened to him.
Candlario nods his head while she catches his hand, "I am sorry to hear that. And you returned what you'd taken, so don't look like that." Fingers curling against her cheek and jaw to cup her face, reassuring. "Sounds like a rotten turn for you. I don't blame you for being a bit ruthless. I have to admit that I'd have done the same thing if my back was up against the wall like that. Is this...Ranulf...your family? Do you -want- to go look for him? Do you need to? I'm still not sure--I mean, if you wanted him dead...if you find him what will you do?" At the touch to his own scars he frowns but doesn't draw away this time. "I want to tell you, about everything. But you might not like it much."
Bailey leans her head into his hand, bringing her shoulder up to keep it there a moment longer and then snorting as it drops away again, “Not exactly the way to go about turning over a new leaf, stealing from the first person you come across.” Brows lift and she settles an even look onto Rio for words of ruthlessness but she doesn’t lend voice to any further comment thereon. “My cousin,” as to who Ranulf is, perplexed now, “didn’t really want him dead, just wanted him…gone.” And now that he is she doesn’t seem too happy about it at all, “They have my carrysack,” the ones she suspects of having done her cousin in, “What if they coming looking for me next?” and therein lies the crux of the matter. It appears she’s done with this bathing lark, for soon she’s standing and climbing out of the tub looking quite set on curling up into his lap if that’s at all possible. No thought given to the water streaming off of her and onto the flooring and certainly not intended as a sensual move either. Tipping her head up to capture his eyes, “Like what you’ve heard so far?” this to him telling her his own story.
Fingers trace the line of the scar again while she's leaning into his hand and then across the corner of her mouth, "Turning over a new leaf takes time and effort. It isn't easy." So says the big man as she draws away from him. He is startled to find her settling into his lap, but grabs up the thick towel nearby and wraps it around her and then folds her in his arms. Protective and warm. "Alright, so you left him and went and got himself killed by someone. Think it was the ones that took your cargo?" Going all business-like about this whole thing, "What was in your carrysack?" And, grim, "No one is going to harm you." Period. His hand rubs up along her back, trying to sooth her, "I'm not racing for the door am I? You didn't hire anyone to go out there and do him in. You can't blame yourself if he can't take care of himself."
Big fluffy towel and big strong arms around her has Bailey settling in, leaning her head against him, a hand idly tracing patterns across his chest as she listens. “Could be,” the ones that took their cargo, “More likely the crew from the Seasprite,” catching her lip between her teeth briefly and then continuing on, “The ones Ranulf had us hit thinking they had our crates,” lifting her head to peer up at Rio, “the skipper had my Mama’s little wooden box that we kept our marks in though.” As to her carrysack, a blend of regret and worry swim in her eyes, “The shell necklace Palia made me, a few other odds and ends and…” hesitating before admitting to the stupidity of the next, “a map charting my course here,” to Ista. A half smile appears and she reaches up to palm a touch to his face, “That’s not what I meant. You’re not bolting for the door, so why would I?” a brow lifting in prompt for him to reveal the origin of those scars.
A small kiss is placed on Bailey's temple as he makes her comfortable against him, the touches to reassure rather than to arouse. "It doesn't sound as though he was being very helpful in the whole 'leaf-turning' business if you ask me." Candlario notes quietly. Her response about the map brings out a small hiss of disapproval and then a sigh, "Well, shards and shells girl. I don't like the sound of some murdering pirates coming here to Ista. You could come with me, to Driftwood and lay low. A couple weeks for the trip and a couple more back. Make them sweat it out here." That suggestion voiced, it comes back to his scars and he smirks and lets out a breath, "Alright then. My father arranged a fine marriage for me when I was very young. It was a very good match as far as the parents were concerned. I guess it was supposed to instil a sense of duty in me, but my wife was such a bitch. And as rich as her family was, her cousins were a wild bunch. I tried to impress them-" he frowns at the memory and skips over some finer details, "I got mixed up on some rather unsavory dealings while trying to get in good with them."
“Don’t think doing so was ever a part of his plan,” this to the turning over of new leaves, “wouldn’t be surprised if Lyson,” naming another unfamiliar name, “set it all up as a way to expand the family business right from the get go.” Eyes go wide and Bailey pales a few shades as she pulls away from her lean against him, “And have them telling any here that will listen what happened and how I was involved?” muttering in quiet hopefulness, “perhaps they won’t find it,” the map, “or understand the code we use.” She tries; she really does try to mask her reaction to something Rio reveals about his past. However, the slight stiffening of her frame and furtive glance toward his private sleeping area might not go unnoticed. Her expression closes and she moves to disentangle herself from both his lap and embrace. With eyes narrowing, “Your -wife-!?”
"You've a point there. You could go and tell the Weyrwoman. Lay out your part of the story. You weren't involved with him getting himself dead. Although, who is Lyson?" He frowns at the sudden tightening of the woman in his arms and his nose begins to crinkle up in a look of distaste at her sudden violent reaction to his explanation. "Oh shards. Bailey." The downward tip of his lips melting into a stricken expression when he barely scratches the surface of his little story and she's already flying away. "For fucks sake-you said you wanted to hear this!"
Brows pitch upward, “Yes, because she and I are like this,” demonstrating by crossing her first two fingers over each other. Cue the eye roll at the end. As to Lyson, “One of my brothers.” From frightened kitten to spitting wildcat in a heartbeat. Backing away from Rio while keeping eyes ablaze with fury pinned on him, Bailey pulls the towel tighter around her with one hand, the other reaching for the discarded rum bottle on his desk, “You never fucking said you were married before! Ever! You two-timing son of a bitch!” Her arm goes back and the bottle gets hurled at him as she growls, “I am no one’s fucking dock whore away from home!”
It's really not fair to fight with a man who's naked. Honestly! His previously warmed lap is too quickly vacated and he's scrambling to his feet, too dumbstruck to even grab up the robe or cover himself. "Are you -CRAZY-?" Staring at her as she picks up the bottle and one hand drops down to cover himself now before bending to grab his robe at last, there's real concern for his man-bits at this point. "You never asked. It doesn't matter." The talk of her situation is glossed over for now in favor of dodging the bottle that whirls by his head. It shatters against the wall behind him, which makes a fine mess of things there between the liquor and glass.
In a more rational state of mind, Bailey would quite likely have found the spectacle before her one of high hilarity - naked man in fear of his dangly bits trying to dodge bottles. “Clearly!” she snarls as she takes up the first thing that comes to hand (one of his ledgers) and hurls that next as she snaps, “For ever having gotten involved with you!” Instead of backing away further the brunette begins to stalk closer, her voice pitching up an octave in incredulity, “It doesn’t -matter-!?” the hand that had been holding her towel closed snaps up to slap as hard a strike as she can across his face if he doesn’t move in time, “Of course it fucking matters!! You’re -married- you stupid bloody idiot!” With the towel now puddled at her feet she’s in just as much of a ridiculous state, chest heaving with anger, eyes demanding an explanation. It would appear this particular matter far ascends whatever else she might have to contend with in her life.
There are so many throw-able things in this room, Rio should be pleased that it's only the book that comes his way, sadly though it beans him on the shoulder while he's getting the robe on. Hard to get clothing on while covering your loins too. With an oath he snarls back at her, "You weren't complaining about it when I was...." He doesn't get to finish though, since she slaps him so hard he looses track of what he was saying completely. Keeping his head tipped away from her, it's a moment before he can collect himself enough to look back at her, "I -was- married." Voice too quiet, not matching the rage burning in his eyes. "She is DEAD." He points to the door, "I don't owe her a breath more faithfulness in death when she never returned that favor when she was still breathing. So if you want to be jealous of a corpse-leave right now."
That half finished sentence would have been enough to have had Bailey physically launching herself at him if not for what gets said next. As it is it’s a moment or two before what Rio says starts to sink in. Uncertainty hovers behind previously ice cold eyes, anger wavering, “Dead?” Frowning heavily the brunette swallows slowly and takes a step backward, shaking her head slightly, “Shit,” muttered in low perplexity. Now the information truly hits its mark and once again, she pales beneath tanned skin, “Sweet Faranth! I…I didn’t know.” She almost trips over the towel as she backtracks, stoops to pick it up and wraps it about herself, “Rio…I’m sorry. I’ll go.” Not because she’s jealous of a dead woman, but because she’s feeling like one prize ass round about now.
"Oh sure. Go." Bitter laughter spills out of Candlario as he throws his arms up and shrugs into his robe. He's still choking on so much of his anger and shame that he can't even look at her. So much for coaxing the big guy to open up. He kicks the tray that's balanced over the tub sending dishes and food flying. Giving no indication that it hurt, but smirking at the resulting mess and sound of breaking dishes. Muttering under his breath, he stomps across the room without even a look to see if she's going to dress before she leaves.
Nope, no way in hell Bailey’s hanging around long enough to get dressed, the towel will do just fine, though it might earn her some strange looks from any of Rio’s crew that might have heard the ruckus and are currently hanging about outside. There’s a definite cringe as the big man sends the tray flying, and a regretful glance to the bath of now cold water. She opens her mouth once or twice as if to try and say something that might soothe the situation but ends up simply shaking her head and sending an unreadable look his way before quietly slipping out and closing the cabin door behind her.