RP Pirates of the Hard Nox 2

Ciaran eyed the mark pressed into the back of Caleb's hand, an ill reminder of the slaying done by his will. Ciaran had often thought about what would've been if he'd followed his friends into the ice caverns to confront King. Would Sinead be here now? Would she be under the same curse? No - this wasn't the time, there was little value in imagining what could've been in another time. Such thoughts were for the grave, and Ciaran was patient. "When we find him, I'll nail the bastard to our bow, captain."

Reassurance, sometimes it was the best you could do. He wanted Caleb to know he'd follow him no matter what he chose, even if it wasn't what Ciaran wanted - hell, what did he want? Either way they were cooked. They needed to come together, only as a full crew could they find a compromise and find a way for everyone to get out of this alive.

Lucien and Nessa certainly had the skillset, but cultivating their motivation was another matter. The last time he'd seen Lucien was through the sights of his scattergun as he and Emryk tore each other apart on the Leimor docks. "Aye, I'll bring her. Nessa too?"

With his captain's response, he left for the clinic. Ciaran imagined he'd find Alys there, or someone who knew where she might be. Hearing voices mid conversation on the other side, he waited a moment then gave the door a hardy knock.
 


"It's not just the damned Duke-- it's his family, and a son's wife. Justify the Duke all you'd like, but they don't share his culpability." Emryk replied. "Would you prefer to kill a father in front of his own children, or his children in front of him? A husband, in front of his own wife? Are you prepared to answer those questions?"

The quartermaster put a hand to his forehead, rubbing it there a moment, and nodded. "Right. There's two options, here-- either King has some sort of reason for them being dead and would simply want them out of the picture, or he'd want them dead to use-- he's a necromancer. We could-- I-- there's..." Emryk replied, looking from Emer to Nessa. The longer he stared, the more apparent it became that this was out of his depth-- how could he possibly discern the motivations of a man so profoundly evil? There were a slew of reasonings and a slew of possible contingencies in place to check if they'd carried out his wishes. There wasn't enough time to be careful about this. There wasn't enough time or resources to try and stop King before Caleb died to whatever curse was placed upon him.

A promise-- reneged. Killing folk who had nothing to do with them. It wasn't any stretch to assume who Caleb would use for the act, too. Who knows what was being plotted. Who knew when this would end.

Quietly, Emryk sat, and looked down at the ground. There was a knock at the door. Let somebody else get it. It was her clinic, after all. Her ship. Her decision to stay.

"... I cannot bear this any longer." He muttered. "I do not know. I do not know what to do."

 
The wooden haft of the broom was brought up to meet Lucien’s steel, as he had expected. He began to move, twisting his body to force Lucien’s strike off-course. The blow landed, but wasn’t the debilitating strike Lucien had hoped for. The girl had darted up from behind and thrust her blade towards his ankle. A small blow, but Lucien could hear the rip of the fabric. He could not tell whether she had pulled her blade to avoid injuring the man, or if she simply had been taken off guard by his movements.

He was not the target of the counterattack, instead watching as the man pulled his pistol from its holster. Lucien saw the hammer pulled back, but the accompanying scent was all metal and grease, none of the tang that gunpowder had. Besides, after all his grandstanding it would be rather hypocritical of him to fire live rounds at a child. Lucien debated responding in kind, but decided to take a page from the girl.

As the gun was drawn and leveled, Lucien spun around, planting himself firmly behind the white-haired elf. He wound his blade back at the same time as he stomped his foot down, the heel seeking to meet in the back of the knee, where the cut breeches showed unbroken skin. Almost as soon as one move was finished, Lucien released the blade, slashing it towards where the man’s throat would be. The edge was dulled, so he would not bleed. However, Lucien had found blows to the throat could be quite debilitating.

“You can do better than that, coward.”
 
He shot her. He actually shot her.

It seemed like cheating, somehow. Pris was very still for a moment, before she realized that he hadn't actually shot her. Mr. Lucien was already moving, already doing whatever it was that he was going to do to attack. There were probably names for all of those moves, somehow, but Pris didn't know them.

She was still a little mad about the cheating.

Except... she was a pirate now, wasn't she? And that meant that if he could cheat, she could cheat as well, couldn't she?

So, very calmly, while Mr. Lucien got himself behind their opponent, Pris walked up and touched the tip of her sword to his belly.

"Guns don't always go off." She'd seen them fire before, or seen them fail to fire. Sometimes it happened, especially if people didn't take care of them right, but sometimes even if they did. If he was going to shoot her in a sword-and-mop fight, then she figured she could reasonably claim it didn't worked. After all, it wasn't really like there was any way of knowing, was there? Not unless he actually shot her.

She had a feeling he would - but not today.
 
Drawing a gun in a sword fight was never fair. However, in some twisted way of thinking, If it'd been done when the stakes were real, life or death, it was fair enough. While training though, and pointing it at a little girl, it screamed of desperation. Her eyes narrowed, and her body jerked slightly at Argent's movement, but she quickly regained her composure when Lucien blurred, stepping in and down on the back of this opponents knee. When Pris stepped forward, unharmed by the imaginary bullet, jabbing her sword into his chest.

"Good. Like I said, get used to that leg," Alys finally replied, before turning and heading off towards the office. She had no doubt that Summer would stay reasonably close, lingering, so when the time came and the plan was made, it wouldn't take long to find and brief her.

Caleb was the only one inside, a map of Goswick spread out around him. A bottle of liquor sat on the table along with a glass, a matching pair to the one held in his grasp. She reached for the lonely glass, partially drunken - Ciaran's perhaps - and took a sip, looking him over. Wanting to step closer. "Do we have a plan yet?"
 
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If Emryk struck a chord, Nessa’s expression didn’t change, still, she didn’t offer any further fight. Perhaps it was too far out of either of their hands to really matter. Nessa sighed, and ran her hand through her hair. This was stupid, all of this was stupid. “Fine, Emryk. I’ll see —”” Nessa paused at the sound of the knock, clicking her tongue in annoyance.

“Goddess be,” Nessa muttered, amber eyes flicking from Emryk sat on the floor to the clinic door. “Start with Juni, see what she knows about curses. If not that, then maybe whatever story it was the Cutter wanted from Emer could help.” Always a different straw to grasp, wasn’t there?

“Door’s unlocked.” Nessa called, not moving to pull the door open for them.
 
Caleb didn’t think nailing King to the bow would suffice, but he appreciated the sentiment. He gave it a tired nod, staring at the map in search of an answer. His thoughts were disrupted by Ciaran’s question, right before he left.

“Just Alys.” He ended up saying. He still had to apologize for not saying anything before it was too late, even though this time he had made an effort to go against a pattern he had followed all his life, of keeping it to himself. By the time she made it into the office nothing had changed. He didn’t have any brand new ideas, the last sip of uisce beatha was still in his cup, but at least he hadn’t died yet.

He stood up from his seat, picked up the bottle and poured another dose on Ciaran’s abandoned cup. The fabric of his sleeved shirt intentionally brushed against Alys’ arm, the briefest touch on account of the exposure of the opened door.

“The safest option is to just embrace it, accept I had a good run and enjoy whatever time I have left.” Caleb said. “Maybe she planned it with King before I got to him. They could be sipping tea and laughing about it as we speak.”

He’d seen the life leave her eyes, so he knew it wasn’t the case. But it did stink of Sinead, to let him kill her just to give him a little glimpse of hope before taking it away.
 
The brush of fabric against her arm wasn't enough - Alys wanted more. She wanted to travel back in time, to that morning, when they didn't have to worry about him dropping dead. When she didn't have to worry abut returning to Goswick. When their worries had been in the distant future, and the future hadn't arrived yet.

Eyes softened, watching the liquid pour into Ciaran's glass, her glass, she found herself nearly leaning into him. But then he had to open his fucking mouth.

Alys bristled, temporarily freezing in place, grasp tightening around the glass. So he didn't have a plan. He'd hidden himself away with Ciaran, drinking, doing fuck all, deciding it'd be better to waste away. He didn't want a plan.

And what about the rest of them? Those who called the Nox their home, who'd still have to work beneath Sol, even when Caleb was dead.

What about her?

Anger and frustration and hurt bubbled up. Then came more anger and frustration, with herself, for putting herself into a position where she cared enough to hurt. She wanted to throw the drink in his face and shatter the glasses, and remind him that he'd never chosen the safest option in his life. She wanted to yell and tell him exactly what she thought -

But that hurt, that lump in her throat made her turn away instead, creating more space. Pretending to be interested in a small portion of the map, so that he wouldn't see. And when she managed to swallow that lump away, Alys finally spoke.

"Ideally we'd go at night. I'd even suggest waiting a day. To learn how the guards move and when their shifts change." If Sol understood how valuable the Nox was, how difficult this task was, he'd give them the bare minimum to be successful. Because if they failed, Goswick would hide and lock away that family, and then Sol would need to find another way. Unless, of course, it was less about Goswick and more about Caleb's ability to be obediant.

"We'll need a cover to get in and out. A way that we won't be stopped. Guards would be best - more likely we'd be stopped dressed as servants rather than guards. But to make it more believable... do you think you'd be able to convince Juniper to come with us?"
 
Caleb didn’t want to die yet, but there was one thing he feared more than death itself, which didn’t quite make sense. They risked their lives everyday in that line of work, why suddenly did he think she’d get hurt?

He followed Alys towards the map, looking over her shoulder in search of the same thing he’d been looking for before she’d entered the room. Perhaps she’d be able to find it, afterall as far as he knew, she was the person who knew the territory the best. What Alys said didn’t have to do with her hometown, but it sparked hope that perhaps they’d be able to find a way in. He wanted to kiss her because of how brilliant she was.

“I can try, but I’m not their favorite person right now.” He said. He never had been, but ever since that crew meeting, his relationship with Juniper was even worse than before. They barely spoke to each other, but lately Juniper didn’t speak much with anyone. If they could convince her to shift her appearance, it’d be much easier to find a way in. It was worth it to at least try.

“Do you think Nessa would go?” He asked, putting a hand around her waist. It would be easy to pull away if anyone else showed up, and it was just impossible not to touch her at this point. “I’m considering striking a deal with Lucien. I’m not sure if it’s worth it, but… He’s the best at it.” It was undeniable, and the reason why he was still kept around after all.
 
In the instant Argent drew his gun a blur of motion swept around him, the vampire spinning gracefully behind the elf in the split second distraction and using the sound of the gun’s hammer as a signal to counter. The impact of Lucien’s heel against the back of Argent’s knee was jarring, painful though the joint buckled well before there would be any lasting damage from the blow. Argent followed through with the motion and sank to that knee, head cocked slightly though he couldn’t possibly turn it enough to see the Navigator.



He heard Lucien’s blade before he saw it, dulled profile tearing the air with a faint whistle an instant before the shining arc of it swept in from his peripheral. With a crack it met with Argent’s mop handle again, mere inches from the elf’s throat and sending a few chips of wood flying as he blocked the deadly blow at the last second.



”You can do better than that, coward.”



The taunt dripped venom near his ear, the vampire still out of Argent’s sight. A twitch of the mouth and crinkling around the eyes preceded Argent’s reply, delivered through slightly gritted teeth against Lucien’s blow or his blade.



”Perhaps, but why would I?” Argent’s muted grin broke free then, as he nodded downward toward the sharpened blade as it came to rest near his navel.



”A fair point,” he replied to Pris, turning his attention to her with a slight shift of his eyes and body. ”But a dangerous thought to practice.” A quick flick of his wrist spun the pistol around in his hand, turning it so that he held the weapon by its barrel. With a following flick the butt of the gun tapped the edge of Pris’ sword with enough force to send it a few inches upward and cause the blade to ring slightly like a far off bell.



”Always go for the quickest kill.”
 
"Yeah, me neither," Alys grumbled in response, eyes boring down onto the coastline of the illustrated land. On the tiny divets, where sandy beaches and rocky cliffs existed, drilled into her memory. She ran her fingertip across the lines, moving closer towards the area where her home had once been. Getting lost in a world of both parchment and vivid memory.

His touch brought her back, hand warm against her waist. "Nessa's already agreed to come," she replied, without looking up from the map. "I'm sure that'll provide Lucien some incentive to join us." In addition to the bracelet around his wrist. She hadn't forgotten what she'd seen in the mess, how he'd spoken to the young vampire and scooped her into his arms, how he'd cared for her. "Do you think you'll live through another deal? When you're still paying for the first?"

That's when she looked up, finally realizing how close he was and near an open door... Her hand found his and she gently peeled it away - it was easier now, to resist, after he'd opened his mouth. She took a step back, shaking her head slightly.

"If we get Juniper -" A near impossible task, and not just because of his tumultuous relationship with the changeling. Their last conversation, up on the deck, repeated in her mind. "- and Lucien, that's seven, including you." Nessa, Argent, Summer, and Ciaran. "We'll need seven uniforms."
 


Emryk did not offer a smile-- that would be too much-- but he did give the vampire a melancholic look of thanks, nodding once as he stood. No use moping. If he stopped to pity himself, everything would come crashing down.

"I'll see what I can do." He stated. An earnest glance was given the way of Nessa. "Thank you. I mean that."

The clinic door was opened; a moment later, Emryk stepped out, nodding to Ciaran before he made his way deeper into the ship. Minutes passed as the search for Juniper commenced; before long, he found her, cloistered in some corner of the bowels of the Nox. He almost felt a bit rude, intruding upon what appeared to be a time of meditation, but his thundering footsteps would work better than any clearing of the throat.

"Juniper." He stated, arms by his side. Emryk gave a nod in greeting. "May I sit and speak with you?"

 
Nessa, Lucien, Ciaran, Argent, Summer, maybe Juniper and himself… So she’d decided to stay.

Despite having his hand peeled away, Caleb enlaced his fingers on hers. He could tell she was mad by the way she avoided looking at him, and wouldn’t let her get away so easily.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I tried to.” He whispered, touching his forehead on hers. He didn’t know what else to say, so he returned to the previous subject. “I’ll have to find another way in. No uniform is going to disguise the lack of an eye.”

There weren’t many people out there who looked like him, and infamy came with its consequences. If just one person recognized him for who he was it could make it all crumble down.
 
As much as she'd tried, he was still there, overwhelming her senses. Mixing her emotions. Wanting to both melt and back away, to comfort and yell. He'd wanted to give it up, to leave. The easier choice.

The lump in her throat returned and she closed her eyes for a moment. "I know," she rasped quietly. "It doesn't matter anymore." She turned her cheek and looked back down at the map once he'd changed the subject, feeling the liquor-infused breath on her cheek, his gaze on the side of her face.

"Right..." She'd forgotten. No - she just didn't notice it anymore. His lack of an eye. It didn't make a difference to her. "It'll still be good to have an extra. Even if they do get a good look at your face, you'll blend in more with it than without. But you could bring a cloak? Or fly in, once the rest of the group secures an entrance?" It'd be risky, with far more opportunity to be spotted, but if they went at night and got a better sense of where to approach in the mean time, he'd have a shot.
 
Caleb rubbed his nose on Alys’ cheek before stepping away, despite not wanting to. Was there still a point in keeping it a secret? It was hard to give a fuck given the circumstances, but if Alys hadn’t given up yet he shouldn’t either.

“We’ll split in groups. Juniper can set up a small fire here as a distraction-” He pointed at the woods behind the castle. “So I can fly in with Nessa through one of the tallest windows. Then she and the others can ambush whoever goes to check on the fire and steal their uniforms. She can take the identity of whoever’s leading and go back inside through the kitchens with the others. There’s usually less security there.”

It was starting to look like a plan, even if a crucial part of it didn’t know anything about it yet. If it worked they at least would manage to get in without raising much suspicion, but after that they’d definitely have to improvise.

"If it works, we can make our escape through the woods in the back. I don’t know how tall the trees are, hopefully tall enough to hide the Nox.” He looked up from the map. “If we don’t make it by the time the sun rises, you’ll need to fly the ship out of there.” And then a question he never thought of asking before, but he probably should have. “Can you fly a ship?”
 
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A plan was taking shape, and even though it had far too many holes and contingencies, it was better than fucking embracing it.

As for flying a ship...

She'd seen it done many times, too many to count, and worked as a cog in the whole system. But to stand at the helm and give the instructions, she'd never had to. Never been anywhere near the position to do so.

Silently she shook her head, gaze boring down on the table. A moment later, she looked up, teeth chewing on her bottom lip, trying to keep the emotion at bay. "But I won't have to. You'll come back, and the rest of the crew will come back."
 
Caleb couldn’t help but smile the tiniest smile. They hadn’t said the words he’d written down to each other, but seeing her like that made him think it could perhaps be reciprocated. If it wasn’t, he’d be happy to allow this delusion to give him strength to do what had to be done, and come back to her. Perhaps if he did, he’d be brave enough to say it out loud.

“I will. We’ve survived crazier shit.” He said, holding back the urge to kiss her.
 
The near-invisible smile paired well with the slight spark in his eye, as though he believed the words he spoke. She'd grown familiar with those small physical changes, to the point that she chose to believe his words too.

"Good," Alys responded, nodding slightly. She paused, the emotion hardening. "I'll kick your ass if I hear you talking about embracing it. Or giving into Sol." Her hand squeezed his - hard - just more than a playful touch.
 
“I won’t say it again.” Caleb said, his smile widening as he pulled her hand to his lips to kiss the back of it. “I’ll go try and find Juniper, so wish me luck. I can come by your room after…” The implication was obvious. “So we can discuss more about the plan.”

Caleb let go of her hand, drank what was left of his forgotten glass of liquor and walked out of the office, making his way downstairs in search of the fire mage.
 
Lucien's blade jolted to a halt as it cracked the broomstick, the elf having managed to bring it up between them with mere inches to spare. As Lucien prepared to rake his claws along the man's throat, the child, seemingly unfazed by the mimed gunshot, calmly walked up and poked her sword into the man's stomach. Lucien had to reevaluate some of what he knew about this child. She did not quite seem like the quivering mess he had brought across the chains from the Teller. Interesting.

the man tapped her sword and sent it up, aiming for his chest instead of his stomach. Lucien let his own blade fall in disgust, resting upon the man's shoulder before dragging it off and sheathing it.

"Perhaps you should try harder if you wish to avoid wasting my time." Lucien spat, scanning the deck for something. He found whatever he was looking for, strode over to it, and returned. He tossed it at the man's feet where it clattered against the deck unceremoniously. "There. My role is fulfilled. I have assisted you. Now back to work." His expression made it clear that he would not argue.

Lying at the elf's feet was a fresh, unbroken mop.
 
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