RP Pirates of the Hard Nox 2

Juniper’s face immediately came to mind, but Caleb didn’t say or act any type of way in response to the question. With the plank down and a clear authorization from the captain, Emer would be safe in the baron’s arms in no time while Caleb talked business.

“We also have experience with rescuing girls from the Truth Teller.” Half the truth. They had two girls from the Truth Teller aboard, but Caleb didn’t feel like it’d be safe to mention them, and the rescue of Juniper, Leo and Emryk, despite accidental, did happen. Caleb let his body fall, preferring to leave the captain of the Cloud Cutter with a few questions unanswered.

“Meet me at Last Meal, at dawn. Bring your second.”
 
As if her wings were louder than the scuffle of boots against uneven wood. Refraining from rolling her eyes, Alys took off after Nessa, the balls of her feet quickly finding a window sill. This particular window housed complete darkness, and as the tips of her fingers traced the outside of the frame, the number of voices began to increase. She paused, listening, until Emer's voice chimed in. Well, that was... easy.

Another flap of her wings and Alys was atop the stern deck. Silently, she stalked forward, stopping and crouching down a couple feet before the railing, pistol in hand. Below, she barely saw the heads of those who inhabited the ship, their features mere shadows amongst the flickering light. Remaining still, she listened to the unprecedented discussion, eyes roaming the figures, landing on the smaller one who who held the cane. Waiting for Emer to descend to safety.
 
“Hm,” it was a disappointed sort of tut as Winter turned her head. The wings were easy enough to place, if only because she had heard them before. Made them a bit like footsteps in their own right, a little piece of personality one never really quite thought about. Marvelously quiet though, Winter would have given her a compliment if it didn’t feel like that would set off another bout of shouting. The other one she might have lost beneath the fluttering of the fae, but that faint ‘skritch skritch’ of her climbing over the side of the ship was a nagging sort of noticeable. That was disappointing, really, if that one was who Winter thought she was.

She had hoped for more from someone with a touch of legend to their name. At least something more challenging than needing to listen for the ghost of scuffling sounds.

“Emer, if you could be so kind as to pardon me for the request,” Winter said, a turn of her body to face the wisewoman and a flick of her shoulder in the direction of those who had done such a lovely job of sneaking aboard, “could you tell those of yours that you are quite alright and there’ll be no need for the — ah.”

Winter sniffed at the air and frowned. “Well, it smells like gunpowder, but that might also just be the cannons, you know? Dreadful how much sulfur I breathe in a day.” Winter smiled, and she heard one of the two mutter a short curse.
 
Oh, no. Pris had made someone cry.

She really hadn't meant to do that. Maybe it hadn't really been her fault, but also it had been at least a little bit her fault, and Juniper was perfectly nice except now they were so sad, and Pris might have known a bit about dead people, but a lot of the time she really had no idea what to do about living ones.

"What do I do?" It was a whisper, and she wasn't sure if she was asking herself or the sorceress or the familiar hand resting on her shoulder. The hand gave a squeeze, and Pris reached out, tentatively, to squeeze Juniper's shoulder in turn.

Maybe it would help. Maybe it wouldn't. It was a taut-line sort of squeeze, like a scared rabbit ready to pull back at the first sign of danger.

"A lot of things aren't fair," Pris said, somewhat succinctly, but that didn't make it any less true. "Did you learn something from it?"

Mr. King always said it was worth it, after all. If you learned something.
 
Well, that had went over reasonable enough. Things were settling, tempers were cooling, and both sides were in agreement to talk. This could have been handled in a much less dramatic fashion if Aamir had just thought to ask for help directly. The folly of men. Though the gangplank was already being lowered, Emer climbed up the side of the railing, then pushed off, half-floating, half-sliding down the side of the boat.
 
There was little point to further resistance, and though he knew his lie half hung by a thread Leo subjected himself to the mismatch goblin’s dragging with little complaint. He was never very good at lying, and though he had considered it might have been one of his new vampiric skills it seemed quite obvious that he was going to face punishment for his crimes, again.



It was the same every time he found himself in a cage, even the short time he had spent in the crow cage as his induction was spent considering the benefit of staying locked away versus the risks of trying to escape. He had always opted for the safer path, even now, and it had made sense before when he was weak. With his new curse came new benefits, a resilience that his human body hadn’t been able to afford.



”Have you ever been in a cage?”



Mal had locked the cell door behind him well before he posed the question, the moments before spent weighing the options internally before he decided another opinion was needed. ”I mean for any length of time. Not like the Captain’s rule for the cages under the ship.” It was probably the most he had spoken to them since he had come aboard the Nox. Their conversations never lasted far beyond the amalgamation yelling for Leo to leave them be or get out of their sight.
 
Near silent footsteps approached, belonging to a much smaller figure who settled beside Alys. Crouching together, they listened as the woman below called out to Emer, alerting the rest of the ship to their presence. Scowling, the fae waited for a retort from the wise woman, or anyone else, though it never came. Instead, she slid out of sight, towards safety. The scowl on Alys' faded, replaced by a wide grin. "Don't like having a pistol aimed at your head?" She whispered, voice low and gaze acutely observing Winter. The gun remained in her hand, though it was hardly trained on the blind woman. Yet. "Don't you worry, I'll spare you the lead once Emer is reunited with the crew and they're all gone, safe and sound."
 
"Which on-"

Of course he'd just gone and dropped off the fucking ship. The little shit just had to have the last word. The wisewoman did actually jump, which made the whole gangplank a bit unnecessary, so Aamir rolled his eyes and waved to the crew to bring it back up, before anyone else got any great ideas about storming the place. Winter had moved off to one side, and Aamir glanced briefly in her direction before returning his attention to the Captain on the ground.

O'Cain named a time and place for the next day and Aamir leaned over the railing, since apparently they were back to shouting things. "You asking me to a duel or a date? I don't want either! And you fuckers shot my second!"

Sky had almost certainly deserved it, but it wouldn't be the first time Aamir had defended him from his own stupidity. Hopefully it wouldn't be the last. That was what they did for each other, after all.
 
“My, my, she did want to live out a raunchy novella.” Winter said, with a touch of amusement as the wisewoman went over the edge. Or, perhaps the mere concept of trying to tell her fellows to lay aside arms was enough to make her want to jump. Which, both seemed fair enough really, though rather foolish while the gangway was being rolled out just for her. Though it did mean the two stowaways were fully her problem for the moment.

“My dear, I bring this up for your sake you know? Your wisewoman has hopped over the railing to her lovers arms, and I wouldn’t want the two of you to get left behind..” Winter lifted her cane and tapped it against her shoulder, thoughtfully. “Unless you’d like some tea, it seems we’re all friends now, so I can offer you that much as our guests.”

“How do we keep finding the insane ones.” The quiet one muttered probably to her companion, which made Winter smile.

“Why I do hope we are, we’ve agreed to help you lot kill King, don’t know many sane who’d agree to that.” She tapped her cane against her shoulder three times this time.

“What.” The quiet one said, not really trying to be quiet at all with it.

“So, tea? Or shall I see you off the ship?”
 
Huffing with slight annoyance, Alys gave Nessa a wordless shrug. Perhaps a mystery, perhaps not, though it'd certainly make for a fun conversation. Another time.

"Your concern for our wellbeing is touching," She responded, keeping her voice a quiet whisper. "But, as I said, we'll stick around until our crew is gone."

"Out of curiosity, how would you see us off the ship?"
 
Juniper didn't respond for a few minutes, too lost to really say anything. It always boiled back down to this, their failings, the things they couldn't tell anyone. How their family had died. Their inability to protect Poppy. Those faces were stuck with them, more than any others they'd seen, in those final moments, highlighted by fire.

What had they learned, then? That they were a danger, out of control, that they couldn't keep someone safe from the circumstances they'd put her in. That they couldn't protect, that the only thing they were good for was destruction. It was why Caleb wanted them to watch Leo, right? To destroy him, if he did something he shouldn't? It was certainly why Sinead had kept them around, they felt.

They felt a tiny hand give a small squeeze, right on their shoulder. She'd had it worse than they had. Pris had been a prisoner, first, from what her story said. Lost her mom, to King, then brought under his tutelage. And they were sitting here, bawling their eyes out, like they'd been the personal victim of all the worlds evil. Now that wasn't fair.

Juniper calmed theirself down, somewhat, though their face was still red and puffy. They set their glasses aside to wipe at their eyes. "Just- dunno. That I'll have to try harder. Thanks, Pris," they said, only a tiny bit dismissively. There was something else they'd learned, though they wouldn't share it. This girl was going to get the safety and happiness that had been taken from her, and Juniper was going to be certain that nothing harmed her again.
 
"A cage? No."

Not physically, at least. If Mal were one for metaphor, they'd have a whole other answer entirely; this task, this body, this ship, they certainly felt trapped in those, but a cage? A literal cage? Mal was only behind bars when they were polishing the other side.

They leaned against the wall, wrench in hand, looking at but not quite watching the captive vampire. Their spider, their creation, sat idly in the corner next to them; like furniture, or a decoration, or something like that. Quiet. Inert. Something completely inanimate. It would have to take the fall, if he got out. Resilient though they were, Mal was never much of a fighter, and their experience with vampires had only so far been cordial, not combative. Hopefully, this wouldn't be an exception. Hopefully, he stayed put this time.

"Never been sentenced to anything like that. I mean- I do my job, don't I? I keep my head down, I work on the ship, and I don't run off and start- whatever it is you people start."

You people- not just Leo, then. Mal gestured to the spider in the corner.

"I'm like that. Like a machine. I serve my function, I do it well, and I don't push my luck."

Because, their unsaid words, faulty tools aren't kept in cages.

They're thrown out.
 
A dry chuckle accompanied a huff as Leo settled onto his heels, crouching down in front of the door in the same place he had been deposited. Even as Mal’s eyes were warily fixed upon him so did he study them in turn. Once his initial discomfort with the creature had been pushed aside the craftsmanship that went into their body was surprisingly evident with a closer look. Tight, strong stitching held the creature together, and though it was a mismatch of parts it moved with a fluidity that seemed at odds with its composition.



”Getting caught is its own challenge.” Leo’s voice was laden with a pensive tone that was uncharacteristic, a thoughtfulness that was not usually present. ”It takes a change for that to happen. Usually in luck, unless the person being captured wanted it to happen.” Leo plucked a piece of lint from the sleeve of his coat, speaking more to it than Mal.



”It is after that when people really start to show theirselves.” The piece of lint was flicked away and his golden eyes returned to Mal’s mismatched watch. ”Most people immediately think of escape. Some come up with a plan, or wait until they think its the perfect moment to move. Others just rage and attack any of their jailers at any given moment.” It was clear from the way he spoke that he had seen such actions in his past.



”Then there are those who stay; those who want to be in a cage because they think the world is safer there. Sometimes its safer from them, or sometimes for them. They see the bars as a series of shields, whichever way those shields are turned.” The iron bars that caged Leo were close enough that a sliding foot was able to tap against them as he spoke. ”Would you try to escape, I wonder?”



Leo let the words hang in the air for a moment as he tapped a toe against his cage. The rest of the crew had probably made it to Emer’s kidnappers by now, and he could only imagine the amount of blood they were setting free as payment for the inconvenience. If any of the Nox were to be caught and put in a cell Leo was willing to bet on which group they would fall into. He might even gamble his boots again for that wager.



”I never tried to escape; not when I was caged on land at least. It wasn’t that I thought the world was safer or anything, though.”
 
“Your third, then!” Caleb shouted back, smiling thanks to the first thing going well for him since he left that balcony. “You know what?” He turned around, boots touching the floor. “Make it noon! Have a good night!”

Caleb waved goodbye and led the way back home. It was quiet on deck when they returned, silence interrupted by the sounds of boots rushing down the stairs to put away their guns and head to their hammocks or after a bottle of rum. Caleb didn’t follow the majority and instead leaned against the mast, putting down the rifle.
 
"Well, you can keep bloody wondering." Mal rolled their eyes, "It'll give you something to do in here, since you're not going to be leaving."

They smacked the wrench against the wall, causing a hollow thud to ring out as they pushed their body away from it. Mal didn't have the patience for the best of people on the best of days, so listening to the poetic waxing of a traitorous new vampire they were contractually obligated to keep an eye on didn't exactly fascinate them. Though, they supposed this was their fault. They had responded. It was only natural to initiate conversation after that, even though it was clear he had not been listening.

"I do my job. I don't push my luck."

A sarcastic smile worked its way into their features, spreading the patchwork skin across their skull like kneading dough.

"I don't try to escape by releasing a prisoner and becoming a vampire, either. Most of us don't, actually- looks like it's just the janitor who makes the mess."

Mal tossed the wrench in the air and caught it in their hand, over and over. They kept the other three behind them, reaching for the wall, to lean against it once more as the wrench rose and fell.

"And, I'll tell you what, it'd take a prize idiot to make another one now, 'specially when you're the one who'll have to clean it up."
 
”And I thought I was slow.” A fanged grin beamed up from where he sat, though he settled in further by crossing his legs. ”I just said I never tried to escape, so what makes you think any of this,” Leo gestured around the brig with a sweep of his hand. ”had anything to do with escape? I was already given my freedom.”



Leo followed the path of the spinning wrench through the air a few times. ”I had a point.” Though he sounded a bit lost in the conversation he did not sound upset, neither by Mal’s tone or the assumptions within their scathing retort. ”Oh, right. My point is that I don’t believe that escaping is any better than staying in a cell to hide. In all of the years I’ve spent locked away I figured out something important.” Leo’s grin widened a bit as the grotesque shipwright continued tossing their tool.



”You see, eventually they always let you out. Sometimes they say they are setting you free. Sometimes they want to take a piece of your flesh to make them feel better about your existence. It’s all the same really.” Leo stood, gracefully rising to his feet with a bare whisper of the fabric of his coat. He had intended to move slowly, without any threat to his movement. His new nature had other plans, it seemed, as he rose and slammed into the bars with blinding speed.



Attempting to cover his unintentional display with a sense of purposefulness he wrapped his fingers around the iron as if he had planned to do so. ”It will be the same here. Sooner or later they will let me free; to do the same thing I have always done, you can bet.” A look of exaggerated concern replaced the grin. ”I just hope I don’t get too hungry before then.”
 
“By ear and touch, my dear.” Winter said, with a tap of her finger against her ear. She smiled, a but ruefully, as she took a step away from the railing and towards the two hiding women. The quieter one stood, which she only really noticed due to the sound of her earrings being a little higher than before. “And to my ear it sounds like yours are taking their leave now, shall I have the gangplank lowered?” Winter added.

“It’s fine.” The quiet one muttered, sounding rather put off. Keeping track of her was a little easier as the quiet one came near, and Winter politely offered her some space as she slid over the ship’s railing and down the side. Was jumping off the side of ships some sort of Nox tradition? Winter turned her head back to the fae.

“Well, what shall it be? Leaving now or joining me for a cup?”

—~—~—

Nessa was in a sour mood as she returned to the Nox, though she wasn’t entirely sure what it was that had her so annoyed. They had Emer back, and she seemed to be well, but that didn’t leave her feeling at ease. Was it that blind elf catching her out as easily as Lucien did? Getting herself all worked up for things to find themselves with a fine enough resolution? She felt like she wanted to just pace or maybe curl up in a corner and scream with how helpless she felt. She didn’t do either, instead she remained on the deck and sulked, staring down into the mists trembling over the waters below.
 
Delfi said:
Caleb didn’t follow the majority and instead leaned against the mast, putting down the rifle.
Click to expand...

"Sooooooo. How'd it go?" The necromancer Hester Falmouth slunk over from where she'd been sitting, by the railing. The bracelet she'd been asked to make dangled from her good hand. There were now tiny fragments of bone decorating its inside; those had, in turn, been stitched to the thing with threads of something horridly ephemeral. You couldn't really pick them out--except that when you focused in on them, your eyes itched.

"Any further casualties? Additional vampires? Is, um... Is Emer safe, then?"
 
This time, Alys kept her word. She'd watched as the crew disappeared down the street, as Nessa slinked off after them, and when they were nearly gone, she took her leave. "Sleep well," she replied, declining the woman's generous offer of tea.

There was one promise she didn't keep - one she'd made to Sky - and although she wasn't in the business of keeping all her promises, she'd make sure to fulfill this one. When the timing was right.

Upon arriving back at the ship, Alys found that a good chunk of men had descended below deck, likely tired from the day. And night. She didn't know what time it was, but was certainly keen to follow suit. Instead, she found herself approaching her lone, somewhat sickly partner. "Something's wrong," she stated, deciding to avoid the polite how are you feeling line of questioning. A pointless pursuit, given that Nessa had previously maintained that she was fine.
 
Caleb watched as Alys approached Nessa, guessing it was to ask about how she was doing. Would she have told Sinead what was happening to her if she was still alive, or was it a consequence of grief itself? He couldn’t wonder further, attention shifting to the approaching dark haired girl and the bracelet she held out, a light chuckle leaving his lips at the suggestion of more casualties.

“Yes, she’s safe with Emryk.” He said, before letting out a worried sigh. “Where is he? The cages are empty.”

He hoped the answer would be that Juniper had taken care of it. It would certainly be the easiest way to deal with the problem, but something in his gut doubted the mage would have done it. Caleb took the bracelet in his hand and examined the new details on the jewelry until his eye began to itch. He offered it back. “Tell me he didn’t escape.”
 
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