RP Pirates of the Hard Nox 2

A hand touched her shoulder, exactly as she’d done earlier that night. No, not exactly; her touch had been softer, more tentative, meant to calm and ground. This was cautionary, and perhaps a little forceful, meant to pull away. Paired with his harsh words, Alys frowned and felt her body jolt back, jewels in one hand and knife in the other. Confusion appeared, though it didn’t take long for irritation to set in. How dare he -

She ignored the command and stepped into the room after him, eyes instantly widening at the scene. She’d never seen inside Lucien’s room, and she’d bet her life that it never held such disarray. Leo laid at their feet, surrounded by bottles, covered in red filth.

None of it made sense. Why Leo would be in Lucien’s room, alone and drunk, why Lucien’s brewed vampiric concoctions were destroyed, drowning the floorboards. “He's drunk-,” she began to say, not yet understanding that he was drunk because of said concoctions. Not until she saw the pinkish, elongated fangs that poked through his grin.

Her blood ran cold, grip instinctively tightening on the knife. Swallowing back shock mixed with disgust, Alys spoke again, firmly. “You’re going to tell us what happened now, starting with who turned you.”
 
The sound of raised voices just outside his door caught the master-at-arms' keen ears. Ciaran pulled a pair of loose fitting trousers on, neglected to button his shirt and made his way for the door - grabbing a blade lodged into his workbench before he left. There was no telling what might happen.

”I broke Lucien’s door!”

Leo? Ciaran couldn't help but feel like a parent leaving their children unattended for far too long.

“He's drunk-," a pause, then just the end of a sentence - "starting with who turned you.”

"Who the fuck do you think?" Ciaran spat as he rounded the corner and stepped barefooted into the navigator's quarters. The sight of Leo gave him pause and in a calmer tone, not unlike a brother he said firmly - "Tell us what happened, lad."
 
It was Caleb’s first time seeing Leo drunk, probably Leo’s first time too he thought, remembering his reluctance to drink during their last get together at the mess hall. He tried to cover his mouth with his hands, but not before revealing the prominent fangs that explained what had happened. Alys had noticed them too, and asked a question Caleb already knew the answer to. He feared Lucien, but he knew him long enough to know he’d have nothing to gain with this. Same for Nessa.

“Where is Naveen? Have you seen him?” He asked the master gunner, just as he stepped into the room. Caleb unclipped his cape from his shoulders and stepped closer to Leo and the strong smell of iron surrounding him. He laid the fabric over the boy’s frame, a careless act if he hadn’t been too intoxicated to pose as a threat. “Are you still hungry?” He asked, burying down the anger he felt.
 
Caleb may have had the serious face, but even with his eyes focused above him Leo could hear the gravity of Alys’ tone. He could smell the blade in her hand, an odd sensation of knowledge that came instinctively. As soon as she said the words he could feel how correct they were. He was very drunk, but it wasn’t only the heady concoction that he had stolen from Lucien’s cabinet that made him so.



”Who turned me?” Leo struggled to sit up, his balance lending him no assistance as he mechanically propped himself up on his elbows to look Alys in her eyes. ”Who turned you? Give her a cabin and… and” Leo’s eyes narrowed to Alys’ throat. ”And shiny jewelry and…” He wasn’t entirely sure what he was saying, or where he was going with the thought. A heavy sigh completed the unfinished sentence, and Caleb’s cloak was pulled around his torso like a blanket, one that was far too small to cover him entirely.



”Naveen is gone, gone for good.” With a good natured smile that was ruined by his lengthened canines Leo patted Caleb’s arm like he was assuring a child. ”Run off to his stupid Captain on their stupid ship.” Leo shook his head to answer Caleb’s question, one that might have been odd before but was now strangely comforting. He gestured to the empty containers around him with a grin. A few drained bottles were far better than drained crew mates, Leo was sure they could see the logic in that.
 


He had come to the Hard Nox earlier than the rest, but was the last to fully return; the drapes had been stamped out, his dues paid to those around him, and promptly sought about separating himself from the commotion; vivid memories of being the scapegoat for rabblerousing persuaded him to make himself scarce. All too often, people were willing to point fingers at the 8-foot Al'ashtavahk to blame for trouble. His movements were unnaturally swift for a man of his size, though perhaps it was his size that afforded him haste in cutting through the crowd.

Height also afforded him a vantage to spot Emer and her distinct companion, though no amount of searching found them; thinking that she most likely led the woman somewhere and returned to the ship, the Baron hurried to the Hard Nox and pushed open the clinic doors, expecting her to be there.

She was not.

Concern began to raise when he began to look through the ship proper. Thinking she couldn't have gone anywhere else-- what need did she have?-- Emryk looked through the first level, then the second. Then, he searched the bilge, holding a handkerchief over his snout, and the bowels of the ship in case she'd be found there-- but Emer was nowhere to be found, and concern turned into worry. Worry that compounded when he reached the boiler room-- his second priority, beyond making sure Emer was safe-- and found Naveen gone. Leo, too. He hadn't seen the boy the entire time he had been searching, and figured he would be here.

Worry, then, turned to horror.

Horror at the man he had beaten breaking free. Horror at Emer being missing in tandem with Naveen's disappearance. Horror at what might've happened to Leo, who he had told explicitly not to let the vampire free. If Naveen was gone, that meant the worst for him-- and the Baron was responsible.

So he left, searching the dock and retracing his steps-- checking the alleyway he'd fought the vampire in, then going back to the gates of the mansion-- and returned to the Hard Nox in a state of barely-contained fear. Something had happened to Leo. Something had happened to her. He'd made a promise to protect her-- had locked that damned beast in the boiler room to stop him-- and now...

... commotion. Commotion from Lucien's room; Emryk gravitated towards it. Out of all the voices there, none of them were hers.

But one of them was his.

He passed by the body of the ice giant that'd led them free from the wastes. The Baron hardly knew him, but judging from the blood and pallor, he could guess what happened. Shoving the thought aside-- not her, don't know where she is, maybe there's time-- Emryk's footsteps thundered along the deck, making his presence known before his frame dipped through the doorway into Lucien's quarters. The Baron stood, wide-eyed-- poring over the bloodstained grin from Leo, the glint of sharpened canines, the flood of confusion and conclusions in his mind-- and looked from Alys, to Caleb, to Ciaran. His attention returned, of course, to the boy.

"You're drinking?"

A step forward, then another. Leo was fine. Leo was fine, and Naveen was gone. As was Emer. Emryk looked as if he ought to strangle the drunk custodian then and there, but clenched a fist, and gave a puff of breath through his nostrils. Barely-restrained. Composed. She was missing, but that was better than dead.

Or, perhaps, the two were one and the same.

"I trusted you to guard Naveen. I told you to keep him in his CHAINS. And now he's GONE?"

His gaze was squinted in disbelief, snout knurled into an expression of grief. The worst was confirmed. He was gone, and he was alive. Leo had let him go? Another breath, composing himself. Eyes closed, expression returning to neutrality. Hand of stone. "Emer's gone. I cannot find her anywhere, and with him loose-- God above, WHERE DID HE GO, LEO?"

The frenzy showed in his voice, now. Panic. Muted, contained, but there. Surely, that snow-shuffling bastard knew better than to touch her again. After the last time.

And if he had, there would be nothing left of him to return to the damned Truth Teller. Of that much, he was certain.

Still, there was the matter of Naveen before his escape. Emryk looked to Caleb. "I'd found Naveen earlier, feeding upon a woman in an alley. Threatened him not to touch Emer again, and when he taunted me, I beat the sense out of him. Dragged him back here and chained him in the boiler room. I told him to-- rrh." As if the decision pained him to admit, now, seeing the boy witless and disturbed. Fingers pinched the bridge of his snout. "I told him to guard the vampire. And now, with Emer missing, I-- have any of you seen her?"

 
Accusations flew rampant as more of the ship’s officers - or would be officers - filed into the room. It barely contained them; with shards of glass and bottles strewn everywhere, furniture turned over, and better yet, now housing two of the ship’s largest men. One of which sported a wound on his cheek, one that filled Alys’ gut with concern.

Somehow, the fae had managed to move her slippered feet into one of the corners, avoiding shards and puddles of red. From there, she briefly debated voicing her concerns about Nessa and her strange state, purely for equality purposes, had Leo not confirmed that it’d been Naveen.

Leo, who also spewed nonsensical bullshit about her, as if she’d also been turned into some blood-sucking, undead creature. She scoffed, opening her mouth to tear him a new one, when Emryk did it for her.

This was a problem; a series of problems actually. Freshly turned Leo, with zero regard for the rest of them; Naveen, who’d run back to the Truth Teller, likely informing Sol of how well Caleb had been running this ship; and now, a missing wise woman.

“Gone for good - allowed to run back home,” she repeated, in response to Emryk’s frenzied questioning. What was it with people simply allowing prisoners to waltz off this ship? As if the Hard Nox was some fucking tourist destination. “You might’ve just fucked us all,” she spat out. And for what? Her eyes trailed over his frame, over the Captain who’d decided to provide comfort now, of all times… Anger pulsed through her and she looked away from the two of them, knowing her face and eyes spoke volumes.

Inhaling sharply, she looked to Emryk. “Last I saw, you two were dancing together. When did you last see her?”
 
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Naveen was gone, and for Caleb it was a relief. One less vampire to worry about, sure it’d be better if he was dead, but away from his crew with the knowledge that he had was better than still having him around. Of course, he couldn’t have left them without more trouble in the shape of the newly turned vampire.

Kneeled next to Leo, Caleb’s eye lingered on the bottles again, after the knowing look he’d exchanged with the dark haired young man. He didn’t want to hurt anyone after what he did to Ronan, which is why he’d broken into Lucien’s room to drink his mead. If Lucien had been the one to find him, Caleb was sure Leo’s head would have been far removed from his body. The captain’s hand lingered on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze of acknowledgement before another giant figure joined them in the small room.

Naveen had been put in chains, which was new information for Caleb. He had never seen Emryk in battle, but to know he was capable of such a feat put him under a new light in the fae’s eye. For the first time he turned to Ciaran, taking a good look at the damage done to his face. Was it another treat from Naveen?

“What happened to your face?” He asked, frowning. His attention shifted again when the wisewoman’s name was brought up, followed by the word gone. How could she be gone? Alys inquired the baron before Caleb had the opportunity to do so. He had seen Emer not long ago, accompanying a woman in lavender dress. If Naveen had intercepted her, it could mean he was still close.

“Leo, this is important. When did Naveen escape? Did he tell you anything about what he’s planning?” He asked, searching for his golden eyes with urgency, with both hands pressed on his shoulders.
 
Naveen. Ciaran had hoped to put the bastard out of his mind after he and Emryk shackled his bloodied shell in the cells. "Not since we dragged him here," he said, peeking his head out of the room quickly. It would seem they had traded one vampire for another. Ciaran would've preferred Naveen had been staked to the bow and left to dry out in the sun - but we don't always get what we want.

Emryk arrived soon after, a composed mountain of a man. It quickly slipped away as he listened to Leo's recounting of events, revealing the cause of his panic - Emer was missing. An anchor dropped from his heart and landed hard in his stomach - he'd been a fool to think they'd get away so clean.

At Caleb's questioning, Ciaran raised a hand to his still raw face. "Joined his scrap," he jolted his head towards Emryk, "I took a hit, happens everyday." The ancestors' laws were clear - eye for an eye. He'd have a chance to collect, patience was a virtue.

"I lost sight of her - and most of you once the fire and shooting started. We had close enemies there, the shapeshifter and their friend in the peacock mask."
 
Leo inhaled sharply, loudly through his nose in a punctuating sound that tore through the questioning silence he had been left in. The fairies smelled of wine, and some sweat, their scents mingled on one another with unfamiliar flourishes from whomever they had come into contact with while they were away from the ship. The sharp tang of gunpowder and iron, also mixed with the acrid smell of alcohol, wafted from Ciaran as he came into the room as well, angry red teeth marks on his face telling a story that Leo had little interest in even if Caleb was.



With all of the voices, the heartbeats, the scents that assaulted him Leo found himself squirming under the pressure. It was becoming crowded in the small cabin, and most of the bodies that pressed inward were doing so with anger towards him. Against the soft, comforting warmth of the alcohol a sharper heat burned, some of the fogginess dissipated in the fire. Like lightning he was on his feet, Caleb’s cloak falling from him to settle over the captain’s head as Leo retreated to the far wall.



”Told me, told me, told me!” There was an almost hysterical edge to his voice as he decided to reply to the largest person in the room first. ”You told me to guard the vampire, like you tell me to do everything. Nobody asks, not Leo.” His tongue still felt thick, and though he knew what he was trying to say he didn’t feel as though his point was getting across. Vampirism didn’t seem to grant him Lucien or Naveen’s silver tongues. ”I did what you told me to do, Captain Emryk, and I watched the greatest threat to our friends besides King.”



His eyes shifted to meet Caleb’s. ”And I burned him. I beat him. I tried to get him to tell me everything that none of you think I am important enough to tell.” This was the point he had decided to change the narrative, just enough to keep his newly immortal head attached to his shoulders. ”After he told me about the curse he didn’t have much else to say. I was going to kill him then, because I am not stupid enough to keep a threat like that chained up with the people I care about.” A very pointed comment combined with a pointed glance toward the Al Ashtaavik.



”I was going to burn him, but he slipped free and overpowered me. When I woke up the giant was dead, and I was like this.” It wasn’t too far from the truth, close enough to how things had actually happened that he didn’t stumble even slightly in its telling. Of course he knew that Naveen hadn’t taken Emer, but he couldn’t explain his deal to anyone. They only saw him as an idiot who cleaned the floors; no one would accept that he might have actually saved them.



Leo let his gaze settle on Alys again, expression twisted with anger, distrust, and some sadness. ”I think we both know that I am not the one who fucked us. That happened back in the cave in the Ice Lands.”
 
Leo quickly changed from silly drunk to crazy drunk. Caleb stood up and stepped back, mind racing through all the information tossed around the room. It was his first time hearing about a man with a peacock mask.

“Calm the fuck down, Leo.” Caleb said firmly, mid the vampire’s rant. His eye widened slightly at the mention of the curse, but that would have to wait for later as the man kept running his tongue, this time shooting for Alys, even though the words seemed to be directed at him.

SMACK.

Caleb’s hand was warm after slapping Leo across the face, in an attempt to shut him up and bring him back to his senses. Fear crept into his stomach at the thought that he might know something, and even though a drunk’s mouth was far from being a reliable source he couldn’t risk what it had to say.

“You let him escape and Emer’s missing. If something happens to her and Naveen is responsible it’ll be because of your fuck up.” Caleb ranted loudly, hoping Leo would sober up enough to hold a decent conversation.

Caleb didn’t say it, but he didn’t fully believe Leo's story. He had seen the damage Naveen had made to Hester’s neck, and it wasn’t as disastrous as what was left of Ronan. It could still be Lucien’s doing, but that would need further investigation.

“You’re a vampire now, and if you don’t stop acting like a threat we’ll start treating you as one.”
 
Lucien had shown him just how fast, how strong and how vicious vampires could be. The damage he had done was repaired now, Leo’s new vampirism curing him of the weakness Lucien had so violently shown him he possessed. Even drunk he could have avoided the slap that Caleb landed on his face, though he didn’t move away. As soon as the blow landed his own hand cradled his cheek and a smile twisted his lips. It hadn’t hurt, at all.



”Like a threat?” Leo didn’t know enough about being drunk to recognize the suddenness of his anger, the way his emotions had dialed themselves up higher than normal. ”So you’re going to, what? Let me wander the ship freely? Sit in on your important plans?” The crimson that ringed Leo’s eyes deepened. ”Naveen was a threat, and you were the stupid ones that not only let him onto our ship but didn’t even have the stomach to kill him when you realized your mistake.” Leo was seething, his words spit through clenched teeth.



”You are right, I am a vampire now. I could have slaughtered your crew; Pris. When I woke up she came to me, and I came here. You want to treat me like a threat?” Leo looked around the room, tears welling up in his eyes though he couldn’t say why. His emotions were a storm raging inside of him, anger and betrayal, disappointment and hurt. A tear fell and he barked a dry laugh. ”You seem to love your threats more than you love your friends sometimes, Caleb. I might prefer it.”
 
“That’s an interesting account of events, Leo.”

Stabilizing Roman’s spirit had taken all of Hester’s attention. It had been exceptionally traumatized by its death. By the time she’d relocated Leo’s presence on the ship, he’d been confronted by several other members of the crew. Caleb and Alys–who had, apparently, returned from their trip into the city–were already interrogating him. Well, that was something. The necromancer was leaning against the frame of Lucien’s shattered door, staring in at the fledgling vampire.

“Except it doesn’t really explain why you cleaned up after Naveen, does it? Or why Ronan’s spirit is behaving as if its last memories were of being savaged by a wild dog. Or why you dumped his body overboard. I suppose it doesn’t really matter whether you killed him or not, except that if you didn’t have the self-control to keep his blood off your hands, it’s only a matter of time until you go after the rest of us, isn’t it?” She gave them an elaborate shrug and a brittle smile.

“We could try letting Ronan’s spirit into your body for a moment, if you like. That would demonstrate very effectively whether you were involved in his death or not. Perfectly safe, if you weren’t,” that was a blatant lie, “but if you were, well. It’d be a poetic way to go out, wouldn’t it. Eaten from the inside out.”
 


The venom-touched edge of Leo's words reached his heart if not for a moment, tainting the soil there as his brow furrowed. He shouldn't have indulged; the boy was drunk. Hardly a target for rational discussion. The blatant attempt to rouse him was, unfortunately, successful, if not for a moment. It was his turn to step forward, now, towards the corner where the boy stalked like a cornered animal. He was here; Ciaran was here. That alone was enough insurance that they'd be able to deal with him if he... went rabid.

An awful thought. But necessary.

He was poised to speak until another voice called to the gallows-- Hester. His head half-turned to keep Leo in his peripheral, looking to the woman with no small amount of confusion. He was hardly knowledgeable on the topic of spirits, and even less so on communication with them, so his hesitancy to accept her knowledge was borne from ignorance rather than any deep-seated distrust; of all the people he'd expect to understand spiritual matters, however, Hester seemed the most capable, if not from his brief interactions where she promptly attempted to avoid him. He also asked himself what she could stand to gain from lying about this, and found little reason for that, but it seemed as reason had evaded the Hard Nox as of late. His gaze swept back to Leo, eyes narrowed.

"Regardless of what Hester has brought to light, I have had just about enough of you pitying yourself. As if I forced this upon you. I would have stayed myself, damn it, if you said no-- and you know that. This is the only thing I have asked of you in all my time here, so your attempt to frame me as overbearing and officious is naive at best, and manipulative at worst. But manipulation hardly suits a God-damned simpleton like you, doesn't it?" Vitriol fueled his words, now, as he leveled a finger. "I asked this of you because I trusted you. I trusted you to be strong. Trusted you to be wise-- wise enough not to TORTURE THE GOD-DAMNED MAN I HAD ALREADY BEATEN!"

His finger pushed at the man's chest, where the bloodstains had yet to dry. "I trusted you. That was my error. He was chained in a place where his cryomancy was weakest-- immobilized until I could return. But yes, call me stupid for showing clemency. Make ME the fool for thinking you'd have the DAMN SENSE TO LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

Emryk shut his eyes, at that, and shook his head. He wiped the front of his face, held up his hands, and stepped back, nodding. The anger had frothed forth to singe and harm, but he restrained himself and returned to neutrality once more. He gave a beat, nodded again, and sighed as his eyes opened. "This is my fault. If I had left well enough alone, I wouldn't have seen the God-damned woman Naveen had nearly killed in an alleyway and he'd still be skulking about. And if-- it is true that you... murdered Ronan, then that is my burden to bear as well. My failure. And if Naveen came across Emer..." A huff of air. His gaze flashed to Caleb and Alys, apologetic in its fury. If he had done anything to her...

He let the catastrophizing thought drift away. What was it she had told him-- you are empty. You are sky. "Last I saw her, she was off with some... woman. Associate of a fellow in--" The realization hit him the moment he remembered Ciaran's words. His gaze fell to the Master Gunner next. "... a peacock mask. You said there was a shapeshifter, there, that knew him? The man I'd spoken with was clothed in a similar mask. Led a... blind woman to us, asked Emer to help her out of the ball. That was the last I'd seen of her." Too many thoughts-- too many issues. Leo, Naveen, Emer, the ball-- could he have just had one damned night where he was allowed to enjoy himself?

 
Alys went on her way, and Mal quietly turned back to the corpse, already regretting their decision to lift it up before they had even made an attempt. Caleb passed by next, then the others. Mal responded to their questions exactly the same way they responded to Alys's:

"Fuck if I know."

Though, evidently, they did- or, at least, they had their suspicions. It wouldn't take long for those suspicions to be confirmed, they assumed; and they would be confirmed. There were layers to this story they couldn't yet glean, but they weren't exactly good with getting information out of anyone they weren't allowed to maim. Mal was hardly a people person, as much as they were a person made of people. It was best to leave the talking to those who could stand to talk.

Slinging the corpse's arms over their shoulders, and propping its legs up against the back of the spider, Mal began the slow, torturous descent into the clinic with the bastard thing in tow.

Whatever muffled arguments they could hear, they were certain having the evidence in front of them would at least bring some sort of light to it.
 
There was a sense of satisfaction that roared through her body upon seeing the slap, upon hearing the information Hester, and then Emryk shared. It overpowered the confusion and anger she felt towards Leo, and his sudden turn against her. She didn’t understand what he’d meant, but it didn’t matter. Nothing that came from his mouth mattered anymore. So she watched and listened, that burning satisfaction growing, growing - until she froze.

“It wasn’t Naveen,” she whispered, almost to herself. “You’re goddamn fucking lucky,” she said louder, looking to Leo, body suddenly restless, suddenly moving closer towards him. “You have a problem with me? About what happened in the Ice Lands? You talk to me about it. After we get Emer back, and clean up the rest of the mess you made.” She - no, they - didn’t have time for his tantrum right now.

Turning towards the rest of them, she began to speak, rapidly. “The blind woman. She was here, she helped Sky - the shape shifter - helped him escape,” she stuttered out. “They’re apart of the same crew. And this man in the peacock mask, he must be Aamir, the captain. Sky wanted me to come with him, to join him and Aamir, on the Cloud Cutter.”

“I shot him - out in the garden. If he survived, which he goddamn should’ve because I went easy on him, we can track him. He likely would’ve gone back to his ship.” Practically itching to get out of her dress and into her gear, she looked to Emryk and gave him a slight nod. “We’ll get her back.” It wouldn't be an easy feat though, not with a loose cannon still lingering among them.
 
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The heat was rising - figuratively and literally as more angered bodies congregated in Lucien's quarters and descended upon Leo. At first, Ciaran had felt some amount of pity for the boy as he described his frustration - had they really asked too much of him? That soon dissipated as his words twisted to bite at his crewmates. Ciaran took in a breath to quiet the room, but took pause as Caleb's hand met Leo's cheek.

Ciaran wasn't against physical discipline when dealing with an insubordinate or hysterical underling. Only, Caleb had counted on it simmering down the newly turned Leo - his misstep. He took it like a champ - the tough lad, and continued his shit talking until Hester arrived. The Fir Bolg hadn't the chance to get to know Ms. Falmouth, but he certainly had no reason to discredit the information she brought to light. Communing with the spirits of the deceased? As a boy, Ciaran had seen his mother call upon his ancestors for guidance - he could've sworn he heard them answer, a voice in the dark. Possession seemed a tad macabre, but if it would bring forth the truth...

Emryk's rage began to boil over his placid surface if just for a moment as he confronted the boy again. Ciaran had half a mind to step between them, even if it meant another glimpse at the thunder the Baron had brought down upon Naveen in that alley - Ciaran had not forgotten his ringside view of the nobleman in action.

"Alys is right. I won't see us make enemies of ourselves while the true threat lies out there - the crew of the Cloud Cutter." Ciaran gave the quartermaster a quick look of respect. When Sinead was captain, he would've taken any chance he had to play the peacemaker where Caleb should've - whether she liked it or not, she was settling into the role nicely. He looked to Emryk next, "I met a changeling wearing Alys' face - Sky. He tried to instigate a fight between myself and this Aamir - he was in the company of the blind woman when I first saw him. I tried to glean some information from him but he slipped away once the chaos started."
 
Always with the godsdamned shouting. Maybe it would have been smarter to go to the bunks, or even rent a room in town with whatever they had left over, but no. They'd decided to come home, and just like the dysfunctional family they were, everyone had come home shouting, angry over gods knew what. It was funny, really. From where Juniper was sitting, they were the only one who had any right to really be angry, and they'd fucked off to the mess hall to mope in silence, rather than make it everyone else's problem.

As the talking continued, the sorceress picked up on a few key words that did make it through the stupor, and started changing their minds. Something about someone being dead, something about someone else being gone. It started to worry into their poor little mind that maybe, just maybe, the fire had gotten out of control. They'd need to apologize. Begrudgingly, they pulled theirself up from the mess table, and damn near limped up towards the commotion.

Lucien's cabin? That was a weird spot for a party. As they drew nearer, though, more of the details started coming in, and they all linked together nicely with what they now realized had been the corpse of Ronan. Oh gods, what had happened? Something about- Leo? They hadn't seen him recently, and they heard Naveen's name in there, too. Then, just as they were rounding the corner- Aamir. That was a name they recognized, as well.

Leo had fangs now, and everyone was standing opposite him. The pieces were slow to fit together, but it lined up too perfectly. Ronan was dead, mauled. Naveen was gone, Leo had fangs, he'd been turned. What the hell was happening to the Nox. As they stood there, more of what they'd heard in passing started to filter in, the far off words they'd heard as they made the walk up here. Emer was gone, taken by... ah. Well, it was a good thing it had gone no further than a dance.

"I-" They broke into a coughing fit, throat dry and scratchy, eyes careful to avoid Caleb and Alys. "I talked to Aamir, at the ball. Said something about wanting to fight, uh, King? And being related to him, as well. I, uh, he said something about a woman he was looking for...?" The memory was far too hazy beyond that to recall, and it was frustrating. This night kept getting worse. "I know how to find him alone and he's expecting a visit, if that matters at all." Juniper braced against the doorframe, hardly noticing the ruined door, using it as a crutch, otherwise they'd end up face first on the deck.
 
The wisewoman stiffened.

"Carried - would it not have been easier to find my folk, than to carry me down to the docks yourself...?"

Something hazy was there. Something - wrong about all this, but her head was throbbing far too much for her to put it together. It was easier to just lay back, relax, and accept this. Simpler to take things at face value, and work out the details in the future.

But - was that the wise choice?

Too scattered to not be the fool.

A voice echoed from the hall outside the room, crying out for a medic. Blinking once, Emer moved to sit up, biting down the wave of nausea coming over her. She glanced at her bedside companion.

"I am a wisewoman. Will you need my assistance for this?"
 
Let him wander the ship freely… He wouldn’t be the first. It was true, from the moment Caleb had realized what Leo had turned into, his mind began looking for the silver lining in this. A vampire, loyal to him. Perhaps too young to face Lucien head on, but with proper time and training… Unfortunately Leo was proving himself to be indomitable. At least the way he spoke of how he had handled Naveen proved he didn’t know any better, not about his deal with Solomon King.

“I offered you my friendship once.” Caleb whispered so only Leo would hear, looking over his shoulder when a female voice rang from the doorway. As Emryk approached he stepped back, allowing the baron space to let out his harsh words. He walked past Alys and Ciaran, looking down at the necromancer. He had little knowledge of spirits, but he’d learned not to underestimate her power, even if it did stink.

“What can you do to contain him?” He asked quietly, listening to what else was being said. He regretted missing his shot aimed at Sky if Alys theory was true, but the knowledge that his attempt to steal her had landed him that shot nearly brought a smile to his lips.

“Ciaran, prepare the crew and the weapons. We’re tracking down this Cloud Cutter.” The captain said. This wouldn’t just be a rescue mission, not if what Juniper had said was true and that Aamir guy, the man in the peacock mask, had really something to do with King.
 
She was no stage actress, but Winter might have tried to bluff her way through. Wave her hand over her dead and scarred eyes perhaps, remind the kindly woman of the bullets and the fire and maybe that would be enough skirt around awkward questions with no easy answers like ‘but why did you bring me here.’ Why, Winter had been halfway through the work of pouring her own cup of tea to buy a few extra moments of thinking time when she had heard it. An irregular thump of boots on the gangplank. Winter was good at ignoring things like this, she had to be really lest the constant sound of trooping give her the sort of headache she couldn’t be rid of. But this was Sky, and his steps were —

She had turned away from Emer and to the door by the time she heard his voice call out for a medic. Emer had said something after, but Winter had the door open, and had managed a series of steps out by the time her brain had caught up with what the wisewoman had said and had turned back.

“Yes, please.” The words were quick in her lips, but she lingered a moments breath longer as her brow knit. That damned cane. “Can you stand? I can give you my arm.” She slid back into the room, a bit like water through a crack in an old teacup, and offered a hand to take Emer’s to help her out of bed.
 
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