RP Pirates of the Hard Nox 2

He was a coward for not going the extra mile, but the night had just started anyway. Caleb smiled and began walking, with Alys' hand in his.

"You owe me one dance, but you'll get as many as you want." He said, pulling her hand up so it'd rest on his arm. "It'll be the best night of your life, rest assured."

From afar, as they entered the neighborhood without a rat in sight, Caleb and Alys would've looked like any normal rich couple on their way to the masquerade. A few carriages rode past them, but they weren't the only ones arriving by foot. Two guards looked over them and Caleb smiled confidently, nodding as they let them pass.

The foyer was ostentatious, decorated with ribbons and flowers. The servants wore simple white masks that covered their entire face, the rest of their outfit matching the pastel with gold colors of the entire room.

"Would you like something to drink, milady?" Caleb asked, hearing the muffled sound of music in the next room. He wasn't in a hurry, but wouldn't oppose it if Alys wanted to get dancing right away.

***

It'd been hours since Alys had locked him up down there, Ronan didn't know how many. What he did know was that he'd skipped lunch, which had been a terrible idea and his stomach had started to complain about it. He was a big guy, he couldn't go an entire day without food.

"Hello? Is there anyone here?" He called loudly. He hadn't seen or heard anything that would imply there was someone nearby, but he had to eat something or else… He probably wouldn't starve to death, but it sure felt like he was going to.
 
Alexander was surprised to be called to such a fancy party, apparently his new crew had some connections, or were trying to make them. He had clothes for the occasion, a nice black suit he had from--well he couldn't remember when he got it. He cleaned up nicely, even dusted his hat off completely. The mask was more difficult, he didn't own a mask, never even really thought about a mask before.

A long trip through his cellar brought up some old items he'd acquired in his youth, the most important of which was the plague mask. It took some doing and more than a few restarts but he cut the length of the mask away. He'd intended to sew it up and make it look like something, but he wasn't great at sewing or cutting and ended up having to cut away the part of the mask intended to cover the mouth. What he ended up with was a half mask, covering down to and resting on the nose, with a pair of fancy brass rimmed goggle eyes. It would do.

Deciding to run with the theme he spent just a little money on a nice black cape and completed the whole piece by digging out his grandfather's old cane, topped with a silver dragon's head. Donning his hat, he set out for the ball.

Alexander was not disappointed when he entered, the estate was the epitome of fancy and he could probably fit his whole house into the reading room. He saw his new captain, recognizing him as he recognized anyone else, by the way they walked. He was with someone else though, so he didn't interrupt, though he did close some of the distance while selecting what he really hoped was cheese from a servant's trey, and a glass of alcohol that cost well more than he made in a year. Suddenly, the half mask didn't seem like the worst decision in the world.

He made it his job for now to keep watch on his captain's back. It felt like his duty somehow, at least here. He weighed his cane in his hand, deciding the dragon's head would make a good whacking stick if it came down to it.
 
Milady.

A devilish smirk appeared on her lips and she sidled up next to him, patting his arm with her second hand. “Oh, and are you going to be a gentleman tonight?” Alys asked in a hushed whisper, before continuing on, “I would love a drink - so attentive.”

She wasn’t sure if she liked him calling her a lady - she was as much a lady as he was a gentleman. But the act of pretending, especially tonight, dressed in their finest and hidden among societies richest, was quite exciting.

While Caleb turned to reach for two intricate flutes filled with a pale, bubbly liquid, another servant approached. And for the second time since arriving, she was called a lady. Giving the man a small nod, she undid the clasp of her cloak and shrugged it off, allowing the man to disappear with it in his arms.

…Deep blue fabric, the colour of the ocean at dusk...

…It had to be the most beautiful dress she’d ever seen, from the colour down to the design. Even in the dim light, the material seemed to shimmer ever so slightly, like the night sky reflected in calm water…

Paired with the gold accents; her mask, dainty earrings and rings, she might’ve looked celestial.

Alys took one flute and gently clinked it against his. “To ladies and gentleman, and all they have to offer.” Raising the glass to her lips, the fae took a small sip and smiled at him.

She’d decided - she simply had to walk out of here with the hostesses finest jewels decorating her neck.
 
"When am I not?" He answered with a cheeky grin of his own, knowing very well she could list the amount of times he had acted like quite the opposite of a gentleman.

Alys was out of his sight for a moment as he turned to find a footman with a tray of drinks, and Caleb had the awfully familiar feeling of being watched. At first he feared it would be Lucien, but a wave of relief washed over him when he recognized, not someone, but a hat, on the head of a person standing not too far away. He had brought up the ball in conversation, but not with the intention of inviting Alexander to join him. He hoped he wouldn't have taken it that way. Caleb nodded in acknowledgement and turned, with two glasses in hand to get back to Alys.

Her cape was gone, and the dress hiding underneath it was… Spectacular. Caleb had seen princesses up close, peasants compared to Alys in that dark blue dress. The only thing missing was a necklace, a happy coincidence if he'd ever seen one.

"Cheers. To the most beautiful lady in the room." And likely in the entire city. Caleb clinked his glass against hers and like a gentleman, drank the entire content of it in one long sip. "Come with me."

Taking her hand, Caleb moved through the people to both get Alexander off his back and find a place with more privacy. They ended up at an empty hallway, next to a mirror and a naked statue.

"Close your eyes." Caleb said. "Trust me." He waited for her to do so to remove the little black box from his pocket, ignoring the note. He opened it and carefully removed the accessory. "Don't peek."

He was quite nervous about it, but when he placed the necklace around her neck, looking at their reflection in the mirror, Caleb knew he had made the right choice.

"You can open it now." He whispered.
 
My, my, leaving someone out wasn’t he? A smile crossed Winter’s lips. It was cute how obvious Sky made these things, but still his secret was safe with her. Even if that fae girl had done her best to remove Winter’s head from her shoulders it wasn’t like scouting out pretty girls was part of her job.

“A shock they haven’t drained the whole crew dry if there’s two, always heard they’re ravenous.” Though those were always little stories to make sure good boys and girls didn’t sneak out after dark, not the best way to understand the world though. “A glass of whatever smells fruity for me.” Winter said.
 
It had been four days since Mal had left their quarters, though far longer since they had last been seen- far, far longer. The reason why, they wouldn't tell. Perhaps it had something to do with a project, or their usual patchwork misery, or perhaps the artisan's eye they had grafted carried with it some residual curse of house-bound anxiety before they cut it out (it was short-sighted, anyway). Regardless, the mood had seemed too dour for them to really find much worth in going outside. At least, it seemed that way from where they sat- alone, away from the rest, unable to assess much besides their own immediate surroundings, and their own poor company. They hadn't felt any crashes for a while, though. Perhaps Caleb had died as well, they joked.

Joked? Things really had changed. It was better than their bitter self-reflection, at least. It made a nice change from guilt. Would things have been different if they weren't so tied to the ship? Would things have gone better if they could have been there to help? Would the way things could have gone even been seen as better? Sinead had been... well, she had been... well. They'd rather not think about that- letting dead fae rest, and all. Whether she deserved such dignity could be debated by those who knew her better.

It had been four days since Mal had left their quarters, and four days since they had carried out maintenance. Whether it was optimism or laziness that caused this neglect was anyone's guess but theirs; all they could do now was hope that the ship didn't need too many repairs. They sighed, reaching for the little wooden clipoard with their usual itinerary. Lower-interior on their way to the outside. Then lower-exterior, abseil down to the bottom to check for landing damage, then up to the sides, the top deck exterior, the sails (which were of the utmost importance), then back inside to the engines. The upper-interior could wait, especially now. They weren't a janitor- if the crew had left a mess up there, they'd be getting a talking-to and nothing more.

Nothing more? Hmph.

"Hello? Is there anyone here?" - a voice from down the hall. It was unfamiliar, which wasn't ideal. Mal rolled their eyes and pushed themselves up from their seat, taking a pen from the side and shoving it into their coat pocket. Clipboard in one hand, heavy wrench in the other--and two more tools in the remaining two hands--Mal left their quarters to investigate the source of the disturbance. Well, in this case, investigate seemed to mean take two steps outside of the door to yell back.

"Just you, love."
 
It was somewhat of a rarity, but Alys stood and followed his directions obediently. A timid smile tugged at her lips, at the feeling of his fingertips brushing against her skin, setting a thin, yet cold chain around her neck. Goosebumps appeared across her skin in response, yet she remained still, even after he'd brushed the stray curls aside.

Then came the click of the clasp and his permission to open her eyes. So she did, gaze immediately settling on the reflection in front of her, on the jewelery that adorned her neck and collarbones. Delicately, as if she were scared to break it, she reached out to touch the star in the centre. "It's beautiful," Alys found herself murmuring, gaze finally moving down to inspect the gift more closely.

How had he known? She'd never told him about her love of stars, or had she? Was it the nickname Leo had given her? Whatever the reason, it was a beautiful gift, one that meant more to her than he could possibly know.

It made the tiniest part of her wonder though; was it part of their little act? Was Sky watching? If it was, if Caleb was playing into his role, he was an incredible actor. Better than anyone she knew in all her travels amongst liars and murderers and thieves.

But as she looked back to the reflection, and saw the way he was looking at her, she knew that he felt what she was feeling too, and that it was real. The gaze of his reflection met hers, and for a moment, she just looked. The way they were standing together, dressed-up and beautiful. The way he stood a little behind her, guarding, protecting. Alys wondered if he could see how hard her heart was beating, wondered if the necklace was vibrating against her chest from the force.

She broke first to turn around and face him. "Your turn," she whispered, silently beckoning him to close his eye. Her gaze moved to peak over his shoulders, watching to make sure no one else was near, that the statue kept them hidden from certain angles.

When his eye had closed and when she was absolutely sure they were alone, Alys raised a hand to touch his face, her fingers sliding against his jaw, feeling the soft wisps of his beard. Her thumb brushed just beneath his bottom lip to settle on the other side of his chin, the touch gentle but sure. Without giving herself a chance to change her mind, she angled his face toward her and closed the rest of the distance, pressing her lips against his.
 
Ronan didn’t know who that voice belonged to. He hadn’t heard it before, and whoever it was and wherever they were, they remained hidden in the shadows.

“I’ve been here for hours, could you get me something to eat, please?” And the keys to that place, which was less likely. Perhaps the person he was talking to would be reasonable enough to let him leave, he thought, being optimistic in a shitty situation, which was all he could do at that the moment. “I’m Ronan. What’s your name?”

***

And so he closed his eye, heart pounding inside his chest as she reached to touch his chin, and then his lower lip. He couldn’t stop the smile that creeped in when she did so. Perhaps Alys was just teasing him like she’d done not long ago, but then Caleb felt her lips touch his and everything went blank.

Alys' kiss was like firing first shot to initiate a long awaited battle. With confirmation he wasn't the only one wanting it, Caleb parted his lips against hers and, with a hand on her lower back, pulled her close so their bodies would be glued to each other, like he'd wanted to do for days. It started as a slow, tender kiss, that lasted long enough for the temperature to rise and his head to become airy, forcing him to catch his breath on the nook of the fairy's neck. His hat fell off at some point, but Caleb couldn't give less of a crap.

He was certain there were plenty of empty beds in that mansion he could take Alys to, but a voice in his head louder than his horny ass reminded him of the promise he'd made of a perfect night.

"You still owe me a dance." He breathed out against her neck, placing a small kiss before capturing her lips again.
 
Aamir nodded along at Sky's descriptions. He'd done his research, after all - and an Aos Gaotha was an interesting catch. There were always rumors about their kind, after all.

"White wine," he responded to the question of drinks, leaving his responses to the question of anything else until later. Aamir waited a moment until Sky had gone off on his errand before bowing his head to Winter once more and inquiring, directly: "What is he leaving out?"

There would be something, after all, and he doubted it had much to do with vampires, whether or not they were pretty. Sky always left something out. It was probably one of the reasons he was still alive.
 
Ah, now that was trouble wasn’t it? Wasn’t like she could go and say that Sky wasn’t hiding something, because that would be just a lie and crews were built on trust, until the backstabbing happened anyway. Still, if she did pass the truth along it was hard to envision Aamir not acting as he always did, there weren’t a lot of skirts he wasn’t interested in pursuing at least once. Winter tilted her head to the side, a frown on her lips. Though, she had mentioned the woman already, hadn’t she?

“An old flame, I think, did her best to remove my head when I helped him get away.” Winter said, “He’s always been impulsive, hard to say if he’s playing a game or if the heart wants what it wants.” Something that these two really had in common wasn’t it? Shame, that.

“Don’t know much else beyond that,” Winter added with a shrug. Hard to know if mentioning the woman was a fae would make things better or worse.
 
"Oh, is that all? Sky gets too worked up about women." This was, perhaps, one of the more hypocritical remarks ever uttered, but Winter was unlikely to point that out if she wanted to keep the peace, which she generally did.

Nonetheless, Aamir didn't really see the point of chasing after someone after it was obvious that the relationship had run its course, but he wasn't Sky - and if Sky wanted to waste his time mooning over someone, that was his business, at least until it wasn't.

I wonder what she looks like? Winter wouldn't be able to help him with that, of course. "Well. Keep your head where it is, we need at least one person on this crew who can think with it. Is she here?
 
He was tall, they could see. Tall and well-built; limbs a little longer than what would currently suit, but Mal was never one to worry about symmetry. They tapped their fingernail against the back of the clipboard. Hungry, after mere hours? Perhaps he had been exerting himself too much, or- no, the more likely explanation was that his previous meal was insubstantial. They could help that, should he deserve; people rarely needed a second serving when they were the one cooking, not this soon after the first. The question remained, then, whether this man was an invited guest or an unwelcome scourge...

"Ronan." They echoed, "Never heard of ye."

Mal emerged from the shadows behind the corner; six-limbed and spindly, stitched-up grin, a visage that looked almost human. How to discern his familiarity? His intentions? Most importantly, how to make use of him, if not to strip for parts- it was far too early for that. Directly questioning the man would likely lead to them recieving the answers they'd want to hear--the ones likely to leave him alive--so there was no point in following that line. The rest of the crew were off gallavanting, as per usual, so they couldn't ask around. Ah, that left but one option- finding a way to test his honesty. They tossed a wrench in his direction, not caring whether it hit hand or head.

"You're with the construction crew, mm-hm? Here for the repairs?"

They tapped the clipboard again.

"Rations come after the job. How's progress?"
 
“Everyone has their hangups.” Winter said, her mask tilting up to face Aamir. It hung there for a moment, as Winter perhaps contemplated if it was even worth pressing before it returned to vaguely focusing on the crowd of partygoers. Best to know what battles are worth fighting, and this wasn’t one.

Aamir immediately asking if if fae woman was around really didn’t help with that feeling of hypocrisy, but all the same Winter allowed her cane to slide down her wrist and caught it in her hand.

Clik. Clik. Clik.

Three rapid taps. Winter tilted her head, a small frown on her lips. A smudged mass of bodies shifted through her mind.

“Not yet, no.” Winter said with a shrug, as she returned the leather loop to her wrist.
 
Caleb's statement should've caused her to pause, but Alys couldn't help but get caught up in the second kiss. Deeper, perhaps more intense, the fae felt as though she were burning, both from the inside out, and outside in. One hand snaked into his cape and gripped a bundle of his shirt, while the other slid from his chin to rest against the nape of his neck. Still, she didn't feel close enough.

It was only at the conclusion of a song, followed by a distant applause and commencement of a new dance, that Alys was brought back from oblivion. She pulled back panting, already feeling his attention shift to the crook of her neck. "I know," she whispered, eyes fluttering open to gaze up at the exquisite ceiling.

In all honesty, she didn't particularly feel like going back now, not after that. She thought about sneaking off somewhere with him, but that was completely unrefined, especially as a respectable lady. More importantly, it went against her earlier teasing, so if she had to torture herself to get to him, that's what she'd do.

"I have to say, this is very unlady-like. You're a terrible influence," she said with a grin, untangling herself from his grasp to turn back to her reflection. Her cheeks were flushed, lips slightly swollen, and the swipe of rouge that had been applied (and paid for) was smeared. Begrudgingly, Alys stepped closer to rub the rest off completely with the side of her hand.
 
Ronan wished he had been able to disguise the expression of complete horror when the creature stepped out of the shadows, but he was never a good actor. He wasn't sure if it was a living being or the ugliest patch doll he's ever seen, that was somehow able to move and to speak. The limbs were clearly mismatched, by the account of some birth defect or because it was removed from different sources, he wasn't able to tell and thought it would probably be rude to ask.

He could perhaps blame being stunned as a means to explain how the wrench missed his hands and hit his ribcage instead, but truth was, he was never a good athlete either. He kneeled down to pick it up, deciding it'd be better not to stare at the creature directly.

"Hm, I'm not a repairman, but I'll do anything for a bowl of soup, sir. I'm really hungry." He pleaded, hearing the roar of his own belly.

***

The white wine was easy to find, Sky snatched a bottle and two glasses before going on his quest for the 'whatever smells fruity' Winter had requested. Sky didn't appreciate the male gaze whenever he was in a female form, but he couldn't blame them as he would've done the same thing seeing a woman dressed in stretchy fabric. He brushed off two requests for a dance he received, and came back to where Winter and Aamir were after stealing a cocktail from one of them.

"Here ya' go." He put the drink on the blind woman's hand and gave Aamir one of the glasses, pouring wine to the both of them.

***

It was a good thing Alys pulled back, otherwise Caleb wouldn't have despite his previous words. He picked up his hat from the floor and leaned against the opposite wall to keep himself from attaching himself to her again, a giant grin in his face as he watched the fae fix up the make up he had ruined.

"We can go somewhere else and do more unlady-like things, if you want." He suggested, putting his hat back on, and laughing to himself. In your dreams, she'd said.
 
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Satisfied with the slight adjustment, Alys' gaze snapped to Caleb's reflection, taking note of the posture and triumphant grin on his face. She spun around to face him, armed with a playful grin. "What a crude offer from a gentleman," the fae commented, striding towards and then past him. Her hands remained clasped behind her back as she walked down the hallway alone, heading back towards the main entrance of the house. "And be forever in your debt? I don't think so. Come on then, I'll give you your dance."
 
Before Alys could walk too far ahead Caleb caught up to her, tugging around her waist to get her to walk by his side. Before leaving the hallway and the statue he put her arm around his like he’d done on their way to the mansion, but it felt different this time. Wonder why.

They didn’t spend too much time at the foyer, walking directly to the wide door that’d take them to the ballroom. The song had already started, so they’d have to hurry not to miss too much of it.

“I don’t know if you know this, but I’m a great dancer.” He told her, while joining the other pairs.
 
It had been hours since Emryk had found Leo nursing wounds and cleaning the deck somewhere out of the way. His request had been accepted eagerly enough, though the caveat that Leo do no harm had chafed. There was a grin on his face despite the limitations; it didn’t matter that Ciaran and Emryk had been the ones to put the vampire in his place, what mattered was that he was chained and confined.



And Leo was to be his guardian.



His coat and boots had been abandoned before he had even entered the sweltering room, and after his hours seated upon a small cask he looked more the prisoner who had escaped the Truth Teller than he had for weeks. Sweat soaked his long hair, loosed into its natural wildness and hanging around his bare shoulders. The grime that covered him was slight compared to his days chained, but the cruel grin he had held for his enemies was a perfect replica.



His mind had wandered though his eyes remained riveted to Naveen, every twitch of the vampire’s muscles noted for warning of his consciousness returning. He had been told to watch the vampire, and watching was what he did. Watching and wondering at the irony that he would be the one guarding a vicious beast in chains. It was fitting, in a complex way that kind of made his head hurt. Naveen worked for King who paid for Leo to be his prisoner, and though that time was short compared to the years spent in his old cell it had been enough time for the hatred for his captors to extend to the necromancer and his crew.



Naveen stirred, this time in a more decisive way than his unconscious shifting. After a moment Leo brought his presence to the vampire’s attention.



”I was hoping you would wake up. I gotta say, you’re easier to look at with the ice.” That same toothy grin, somewhere between innocence and madness.
 
“And humble too,” Alys quipped with a demure smile, allowing him to lead her into the grand ballroom. It was beautiful, of course, filled with gold and exquisitely dressed people. She didn’t stare in awe though, instead keeping her chin held high and posture straight - as if she belonged. Most of her attention remained on Caleb, though she couldn’t help but try to keep an eye on some of the faces they passed, searching for familiarity. Unsuccessfully.

As they joined the edge of the dance floor, she turned to face him. With a mischievous grin, Alys curtsied, dipping low enough to give him an ample view of the new necklace that adorned her chest. “Show me then.” She lifted one arm slightly - her bruised one - to place a hand on his shoulder. The pain was dull, but still present. It would remain hidden though; she’d been able to manage worse while fighting and shedding blood - a simple dance or two was nothing. And then she waited for him to sweep her off her feet.
 
Aamir couldn't say he really understood how Winter's tap-scan worked, but he'd seen her do it often enough that he trusted her judgment. "Let me know when she gets here, if you notice." He didn't say more than that, as Sky was returning with their drinks, which would hopefully be enough to fortify them through this spectacle. He accepted the glass from the changeling, taking a sip once the wine had been poured.

At least the drinks were good. That much could be said for the Lady.

"So. Bets on whether blood is drawn tonight, and who spills it?"
 
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