RP Pirates of the Hard Nox 2

"- I did not need this, Baron," Emer was insisting. Her arm rest in the crook of his own, him leading her steps as they made their way up to the front door of the estate. "I do not understand the need to - to dress like this. It all seems rather silly. There is a difference between making oneself presentable and - well."

She glanced at an elvish patron in passing, garbed in a bright purple suit with ornately decorated gold trim along the breast.

Her own outfit, however much she complained, was relatively modest compared to much of the faire. A simple pale green, almost a blue, with a white lace trim around the bosom, and a plain grey mask to match. Still, it was far more lavish than her typical clothing, far more expensive, and far more uncomfortable.

Did people really pay fifty times the cost for clothes that were this stiff?

It was an awfully foolish endeavor. A terrible feat, that the wealthy had somehow convinced themselves to spend more money on worse clothes and somehow feel better for it. Leaning against Emryk, she watched the guards tentatively as they approached.

"Have you been to many balls?"
 
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The back of his head still hurt, but at least the hole in his chest had started to close itself. Naveen hadn't noticed he had company, not before the person spoke an insult.

"So they put the pet monkey in charge of me." He smiled weakly, deciding it'd be best to rest and heal his wounds before attempting to escape. They hadn't killed him, which was quite a surprise. It meant they either didn't know how to, or expected to extract something of him. It'd be funny to see them try.

"Are you that afraid of me that it needs to be this hot? It's quite uncomfortable." He said, moving to try and find a better position to be trapped in.

***

It would be smart of Caleb to be on the lookout for a possible threat, but he only had one eye and was too enamored with Alys to look anywhere else. She was clearly teasing him, showing off her necklace, and he responded to it with an overdramatic bow of his own. A lady and a gentleman, clearly.

He took her hand and led her into the dancefloor, dodging the moving couples on their way to find a good spot. Caleb put his hand on her waist and couldn't help but notice her grimace when lifting her hand up to his shoulder.

"Something wrong?" He asked, and took the first steps to initiate the dance. He moved confidently, with a polished posture he'd learned by watching the princes' lessons from afar, over a decade ago.

***

"During or after the dance?" Sky asked, taking a sip of his drink. He stopped with the glass on his lips, noticing the girl in a dark blue gown joining the dance after the song had already started. It was when her back was turned and he saw that blue pair of wings for the second time that day that his focus changed to the person she was dancing with. A shortie with a big hat and a long cape, proving his source to be wrong about her relationship with Ciaran. It was perhaps a bit too late for him to fake not being interested, but he tried regardless, turning back to Aamir.

"What's the plan? Are you on the market for a new ship or just another skirt to undress?"
 
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As soon as the Half-Face spoke Leo regretted agreeing not to harm the creature. He knew the sarcastic defiance that the chained vampire was demonstrating well enough, and it made his grin all the wider for the irony of it. Perhaps the disdain he felt was the same one his own guards had known.



”It’s always hot in here. You aren’t that special.” Leo shrugged a bit wiped the beading sweat from his brow. As his hand fell away it lingered at his throat, touching lightly on the fresh bandage there. ”You think you’re scary, but you haven’t seen Lucien now that you have killed his Captain.”



He leaned forward, hair falling from his shoulders to drape around his face. ”I could give you the same edge, if you would like.” As Leo rocked back on the cask a heavy sloshing sound echoed from inside. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at the pathetic vampire he was assigned to. Compared to their own, in this condition, Leo felt no worry.
 
Perhaps she wasn’t as skilled in masking her pain as she’d thought. Or perhaps he was too close to keep it hidden. That had to be it; after all, he had a hand on her waist and they were dancing, with the bare minimum of respectable distance between them.

At first, she had to focus on not taking the lead, as she usually did. Fortunately, he wasn’t lying when he said he was a competent dancer. Alys quickly fell into step with him, and together, they found a seamless rhythm.

“I’m fine. Why? Is something wrong with you?” She whispered, a small smile creeping onto her lips. “Am I moving too quickly for you? I can slow down if you’re feeling overwhelmed.”
 


"I'm afraid it is necessary for tonight, but-- why not indulge a bit, hm?"

The baron was similarly clad in opulent attire; while the lady was dressed in a softened teal dress, Emryk announced his presence with a deep salmon ensemble; a tailcoat and trousers colored a light pink, with a golden floral trim that ran from the high-necked collar of the coat, continued down along the edge of each breast, and terminated at the bottom of the coat's fringes a few inches above the knee. The cuffs of the coat were similarly gilded; the buttons, too, were a shade of gold that neatly complimented the natural tones of his scales. To complete the look, an embossed jacquard waistcoat-- similarly a shade of salmon, and similarly adorned with a golden floral design-- and bone-white jabot went beneath his coat. Upon his right shoulder, a white cape draped along his arm and half of the back, ending just above the waistline. His boots were the very same he'd worn aboard the Sweet Rosebud-- despite managing to find a tailor who could work with his size, no cobbler dared take such a task on short notice. They were more than suitable, however, and were a neutral black. Polished, of course, before the night had begun.

"Might I say that you are the most beautiful thing I have laid eyes upon." Emryk murmured to his date for the night, reaching out with his free hand and adjusting a misplaced lock of hair behind her ear. The fingertip touched upon her chin a moment before withdrawing, his smile warm and genuine. "Of course, that may very well be true even without the getup of a noblewoman, but... especially so, tonight."

Even beneath the veil of his mask-- a simple white domino that barely fit atop his snout-- she could see the truth, there, in his creased eyes and sparkling gaze. To say he marveled at her beauty would have been an understatement; to say she was anything short of divine would have been criminal. Leading her up the last of the steps, the baron stopped before reaching the guards-- and withdrew a small object from his pocket.

"I'd like for you to wear this, tonight-- I believe it would suit you quite well, dear."

Within his hands, sparkling beneath the lantern-guided twilight, was the verdant gem he had carried for so many months. Mother. She had seen him through heartbreak, though the sale of his estate, through travel and negotiations-- through death, imprisonment, freedom. It had escaped purloin by Solomon King and Sinead Oiche; now, it would be given freely to the woman before him. A gift. To give guidance anew, at least for tonight.

It hung from a tightly-wound, softened ribbon-- a piece of craftsmanship owed to Nessa. He would need to thank her again for elevating the beauty of such a simple trinket. Emryk placed the necklace in Emer's hand, then curled her fingers over the gem.

"Please." His smile, however melancholic, still bled that undying warmth. For her. "For me?"

 
They weren't sure when they arrived at the party. Most had made it before their arrival, but they certainly weren't the last. No, it felt quite perfect to them, the timing. They approached the front doors to the establishment with a swagger unbecoming of someone who had, just a few moments ago, had been questioning whether it was even worth attending. Granted, those few moments were, by the third glass, indecipherable in length, and frankly, they had stopped caring.

A black mask adorned their face, gold trim and filigree splashed along, making for a stark contrast. It likely wasn't real gold, but it was the look that mattered. If no one could tell the difference, it may as well be real, right? Their rings were real, though, of course they were. Gold and silver, inlaid with jewels. Between those and the outfit, it was a miracle they had anything left. Thankfully, they hadn't needed to spend much on drink, slipping it away from a certain master gunner who had previously oh so easily let himself be fooled. He hadn't been the only one, though.

Loc'd hair, pulled into a ponytail, away from their face to let the swoop on the left side of the mask show. Dark skin, to match the hair. They were unrecognizable to anyone who knew them, recently or prior. A black-gold corset vest, pulled over the blood red shirt. Again, the wonderful contrast with the blues and blacks and gold of their jacket, which trailed in the air behind them as they waltzed through the front doors, hardly even slowed by those standing guard. Why would they? They fit in more than anyone.

A ring tapped against a glass, some drink swishing about within. They hadn't bothered to look at the label, it was the last thing they'd worried about, and now they were here. The music was soft, lovely, the lady of the house flaunting her wealth from atop the stairs. Maybe they'd make off with something for theirself tonight.

Maybe something nice would happen.
 
"You're not!?" They gasped in false incredulity, "Then what the hell are you- hmph, alright."

He didn't seem too fond of Mal, but they were getting used to that by now. Their newer iterations had been veering less life-like and more avant-garde- perhaps the horror it caused could be used to their benefit, if only they had anyone they wanted to intimidate. Oh, and he called them Sir as well, that was interesting. Authority. Well, they were the only other person on the ship...

"Rations are stored by the deck," They lied, "I can lead you up there, but there's a lot of work to be done, and I'd much prefer one trip than two."

Mal tapped the clipboard.

"Bolts need tightening. You can do the interior ones- cosmetic, I suppose, but the others find it important."

They walked off, starting to mumble something under their breath.

"I keep saying- if you don't want to get scratched, don't walk around bare-foot, don't slide your hand across the walls, don't grab onto things when the ship sways- ooh, actually, maybe don't make the bloody ship sway, that might help..."
 
Caleb was either seeing too much into it or Alys just didn't want to talk about it. He took her hand off of his shoulder, lifting it up for a twirl that would end with her back turned to him, her arms crossed over her waist. If his guess was correct and something had happened to her arm, it was possible she'd react to it again.

"On the contrary. You're moving perfectly." While whispering, Caleb's beard brushed over Alys' neck. He made her twirl in the opposite direction, returning to their previous position. His hand found its way back to her waist and he smiled cheekly.

***

Oh.

It was Ronan's first time meeting this creature, but he'd been on the ship long enough to know where food was stored. In fact he had seen it on his first day, when Nessa showed him to the vault. It meant he was in the presence of a liar; there seemed to be a lot of them on this ship. Before he could do anything about this situation the amalgamation of many limbs threatened to leave and, frightened of being alone again, he pulled himself up and grasped at the metal bars.

"Aren't you going to let me out?!" He shouted, before they left.

***

The mention of the other vampire's name, the one who had ruined Naveen's face, made him grimace. A beast if he'd ever seen one, a different kind of scary, he'd say.

"I thought he and the captain had agreed on him not hurting his crew. Is O'Cain's authority that lackluster or are you that irrelevant?"
 
The pain was dull but difficult to ignore, especially as he lifted her arm and twirled her around, gently tugging and leading. A smile remained on her face though, especially as he whispered in her ear, the scruff on his face brushing against her neck. She bristled against the sensation and laughed, whirling back around to face him. Once her hand rested comfortably on his shoulder again, she leaned closer to whisper, “You caught me.” Her eyes glanced at the dancing pairs closest to them, watching as they all appeared enthralled within the music and festivities.

Better to slip him the truth and still enjoy the dance rather than suffer the whole night.

“I bruised my shoulder earlier,” she admitted, peering at him somewhat timidly. “I really am alright - just be gentle with me tonight.”
 
Another small shrug served as Leo’s initial response. Docked as they were in the water his body swayed to and fro with the motion of the ship, and for that moment of silence he seemed to consider Naveen’s words carefully.

”What happens between me and the stray is between us. I have been through worse.” His arms uncrossed and he held up his left hand with its palm to the ceiling. ”Though you could be right. Maybe Caleb’s not the best captain.” Leo let the statement linger for a moment, let the vampire believe he was gaining ground.

”Maybe that was King’s whole idea. Leave a weak captain in charge of the Nox and keep us out of his way.” His hand fell to bis lap and he met Naveen’s nearly translucent eyes with his own. ”That makes me wonder why he left you behind. To guard and keep an eye on his defanged enemy? Maybe I’m not the only irrelevant one here.”
 
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Oh, well, that was her voice there wasn’t it? A shame about her shoulder, a dreadful thing to bruise, but Winter could only hold so much sympathy in her heart for people who tried to lop her head off with little cause. Still, she rather didn’t want to point Aamir in her direction, least of all while Sky was present, so she was more than happy to ignore the woman for a spell. Maybe Sky would make a mistake and tip Aamir off on his own, perhaps the five would allow her that small miracle.

Instead of worrying any further, Winter took a healthy pull of her drink. “Oh, that’s delightful.” Winter said with a small sigh. “During I’d say, if they’re anything like their reputation.”
 
"What would I do with another ship?" Aamir inquired, in a way that implied he seemed to think it was rhetoric. "Start getting too interesting and we'll attract the wrong sort of attention." Keep your head down, do enough but never too much. Find the line and stay just behind it. "Seems like that's what happened with the Nox, no? The poor stupid bastards."

Always a shame to see a fellow crew go through hard times, mostly because it meant they'd no longer be pulling the attention away from his doings.

And so, the conversation about the chaos. "I'll put my coins on after, not during," he bet against Winter, less because he thought she was wrong and more because the gamble was more fun that way. "If someone starts anything here, it won't be them. Maybe it'll be Sky."

A little smirk found its way towards the changeling, more amused than anything. If Sky tried anything and got caught... well, then, Aamir had never known him, and Sky would be a completely different person when they met up again next. It had worked well for them so far, after all.
 
They moved up near the guards without incident - which, she supposed, meant they belonged, or at least looked close enough to play the part. It was an odd feeling, to seem so much out of place, yet not turn a single suspicious eye. Tilting her head into the Baron's hand as he brushed back her hair, Emer smiled.

"You must not have seen many things, Baron Emryk," she rebuked, "but I thank you for the sweet words."

Still, the wisewoman seemed a bit flustered, a faint blue rising to her cheeks. She was very grateful for the mask - not that it hid much of her cheeks, but it gave a sort of comfortable anonymity to her emotions.

"Any compliment I could pay in turn would not come near your worth. You are like the stars at dusk, fiery and golden in a throne of rose."

At her words, she noticed he had stopped, and she stopped as well, turning to him. His own words piqued her interest, and she raised an eyebrow - then her eyes widened as he held out the gem. She knew what it meant - she knew the memories it held, the stories it whispered. Hesitating for a moment, she reached out her hand to gently take it, then opened her palm to stare at the stone.

"If - you are certain, Baron." Lifting it to her neck and taking the ends of the ribbon in each hand, she turned her back to Emryk, head tilted down. "Would you help me to close it?"
 
The smile disappeared but she wouldn't be able to see it, not with how close they were dancing. If they weren't in such a public space Caleb would have tugged her closer and caressed the gap between her wings, resting his chin on her shoulder; too scandalous of a gesture for that sort of event. So he settled with squeezing her hand gently, and swaying her beautifully around the room.

She didn't want to talk about it, and a bruise on the shoulder was nothing compared to all the sorts of injuries pirates would often get, but Caleb couldn't help but to be concerned. While they danced, his brain insisted on making up many scenarios of what could've happened when he'd left her by herself, many of them including vampires.

"What happened?" He asked, trying to show the least amount of emotion through his voice.

***

"What happens between you… I never would have guessed." A naughty smile grew on Naveen's lips, charming on one side and terrifying on the other, as he looked at the bandage on his neck with a new perspective. It didn't falter, not even at Leo's attempt to strike his ego. "I know what you're trying to do, and it's not gonna work. If you keep me tied up like this you'll regret not killing me when you had the chance. Come, do it."

***

The value of anonymity was one of the reasons Sky liked being on Aamir's crew. Sure an empire sounded fun, but also too much work, with too many targets on his back and too many ex lovers having the means to track him down. Sky sipped on his drink while they placed their bets, smiling at Aamir's final words.

"Start emptying your pockets, captain." The fir bolg woman refilled her glass and gave Winter the wine bottle to hold. Sky would have winked at her, if it would've made any difference.

Being a changeling wasn't just about changing their body, but also being able to act accordingly. He walked away one person, and by the time he'd made it to the opposite side of the room his dark hair turned golden and a pair of blue wings grew from his back.

Alys 2.0's mask did little to conceal her identity. She sipped on her glass, trying to spot a familiar face if she wasn't approached by someone first.
 
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What happened?

What good would the truth do now, in the middle of the dance floor? She'd allowed an imposter and his supposed ally to escape, unharmed and possibly armed with information about the Nox. All thanks to a young giant with half a brain, who'd decided that the best course of action was to spare them by pining her to the deck. How embarrassing. Her cheeks burned; Caleb wouldn't see, but others, if so inclined to spare a glance, might've noticed the fae blush as her partner whispered in her ear.

"I'll tell you later," she responded cooly, keeping her composure otherwise. They had much to talk about; Sky, their new miniature armory, his discussion with Ciaran, the role of quartermaster... But now was not the time.

The hand resting on his shoulder shifted, her fingers extending out to the back of his neck, moving past the layers of clothing to brush her fingertips against his skin. "Where'd you learn to dance like this?" She asked, opting to change the subject.
 
Caleb didn't insist. He wouldn't forget it either, but if she didn't want it to get in the way of their date - a date that was going so much better than he had expected - he'd respect her wishes. He smiled at her hidden compliment, goosebumps raising the hairs on the back of his neck, where her fingers touched.

"I learned so I could impress a girl. It didn't work when I was twelve, but it seems to be working now." He answered before spinning Alys, being careful this time not to injure her bruised arm. "You're not so bad yourself. How old were you when you were first asked to dance?"
 
Alys scoffed playfully, her curls gliding across her back with the subtle shake of her head. "Oh does it?" She murmured, only to be spun outward, the skirt of her dress twirling against her hips and legs. Then he brought her back to him, and she found herself reattaching to him eagerly, her hand finding the very same spot again.

This time though, the fae maintained a little more distance so that they could look at each other. "Seven? Eight? And I asked him - my best friend growing up."

Ishaan must've been eleven or twelve, and initially, very unwilling. "But I wouldn't call it dancing. More like - jumping around and trying to spin each other as fast as we could." She smiled at the thought. "One time, he spun me so hard, I couldn't walk straight for a couple minutes. And nearly threw up."

"But if we're counting real dancing-," she added, glancing at a nearby couple who twirled past. "Maybe fifteen?"
 
"Ahh, my mistake."

Some intruder he was- oh, he could make his way in alright, but making it out was a step too far, hm? Well, it was Mal who designed those cages. Perhaps his situation was more a compliment to them than an insult to him.

They walked over to the mechanism, but skipped over the lock. Instead, they took out a needle and thread from their jacket, threaded one end through their arm, then the other through a small gap in the metal, pulling it tight before biting the string short. Then, they stood still. Hands by their sides, eyes gazing off back down the hallway, scanning for loose bolts. Distracted- or, at the very least, not actively focused on the lock.

A few creaks could be heard. Then, with the force of a wyvern's jaw, the bars slammed themselves to the side, rocking the ship around it- and knocking some things off the shelves.

"Y' can start by picking those up."

They pointed a spare thumb over at the mess. Then, they paused- and, with another ship-shaking slam, trapped him behind the bars once more.

"...or by telling me what you're doing here, lad." They frowned, "How does that sound?"
 
By the time Ciaran and Emryk dragged Naveen back to the Nox, their own exciting combat had already taken place. Through bits and pieces from those who'd had time to explain it to him, Ciaran learned of the changeling who'd snuck onto their ship in his skin - complete with his coat. He'd been duped by a pretty face and a comely figure, but he'd keep that to himself.

He saw to it that Emryk and his own wounds were dealt with, and once they were he prepared for the ball. Truth be told he was very excited, and pulled his best outfit from his closet to wear to this function - complete with a stylish shoulder cape to hide the wounded arm, and an angular half mask for the vicious bite he'd taken to the cheek.

At the ball, Ciaran found himself partner-less - at least for now. It suited him fine for now, he'd need a few drinks to stifle the pain in his ribs.
 
Heavens, he wanted to kiss her again when she laughed like that. Not long after the twirl the song ended and most pairs parted to clap for the musicians. Caleb's feet stopped moving, but nothing other than that changed, as he waited for the next song to start.

"Is that the guy who gave you the ring you wear around your neck?" Caleb asked, looking down a moment to appreciate the gift he gave her from up close. He stopped himself from adding a crude comment, something his usual kind of company would laugh at, either because they genuinely enjoyed it or because he was paying them well for their time.

***

Ronan should've started running the moment the creature he was yet to learn the name of removed one of the cage's walls, but he knew then he was no match to their strength and stayed, watching as the metal bars got put back into place. The tears began to fall.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do anything wrong! I should've asked before…" Most of what he said ended up as incoherent gibberish due to his sobbing, but Ronan kept trying to explain the Winter and Alys situation, ending it with a loud: "I just wanna go home!"
 
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