RP Pirates of the Hard Nox 2



She couldn't look him in the eye. Not fully. He would remember that. In contrast to her avoidant gaze, Emryk's stare was targeted, unwavering. A beat of silence passed.

"Do you think Leo was afraid, when he had his head caved in? You did not see the body." He stated, flatly. "His limbs were torn off. His body was mutilated." Emryk let that imagery hang in the air, a moment, as he thought back to the body he'd thrown into the furnace. Thinking about it only incensed him even further, bringing back that rage he'd felt upon the docks-- but adrenaline had long since worn off, and he was left with the body-wide pain of having his scales ripped into. More strokes to add to the canvas, he supposed. They would not look out of place amongst the marks left by whips and chains during his time as a miner.

"Keep us safe." Emryk stated, repeating her words as his gaze turned distant. "And what of the men and women that he preys upon? I found Naveen feasting upon a woman in an alley, Emer, and you cannot convince me Lucien is any different. Where does he find his sustenance? Where did his collection of bottles come from? Or do you not care, because you do not see it?"

His last words were pointed, again. Emryk's gaze was hardened, absent of affection or malice-- it simply was. He intended to get to the bottom of this business with Emer, regardless of what conclusion it wrought.

 
"Fantastic. Bloody fantastic."

Mal had heard the commotion, but had been too occupied to investigate at the time. Angry as they tended to be, trying to break up a fight between two monsters like this would be suicide, and they doubted they'd put the ship's condition over their personal squabbles. Though, given the gravity of what had happened recently, perhaps 'squabbles' was a bit dismissive. Things were going wrong, and they were only getting worse. All they could do was cling on and fix the physical damage. That was all they could ever do.

"I'll patch it up before we arrive- as long as I can be sure there won't be any more interruptions." They frowned, "I must say, Caleb, you don't have as tight a leash on your crew as I would expect."
 
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Caleb leaned on the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest. That’s usually how far he’d go into Mal’s workshop, as one never knew what kind of aberration they'd be working on, and he preferred to be kept in the dark about that.

“It’s a work in progress.” He said in his defense. "Tie some ropes around you so you don't fall when you're out there. We'll have a crew meeting tonight, hopefully figure our shit out by then. Or discard a few more bodies."
 
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"I've met everyone a little bit," Pris answered. She spent a lot of time in the kitchen, and everyone needed to eat. Well, most people did, anyway. Some people didn't. "But I haven't really talked to the Captain very much. He seems okay though." He wasn't scary, anyway, and that was fine with her. He was a pirate captain, though, so maybe he was supposed to be scary - but Mr. King had never really been all that scary, either. At least, Pris hadn't thought so.

Naveen had been scary, though. She supposed that Mr. King didn't need to be scary, if he had Naveen around to be scary for him. She wondered if they had someone here to be scary for them, but couldn't really think of anyone. Some other people seemed to think it was Mr. Lucien, but Pris didn't think so. Not really. Not to her, anyway. And Mr. Emryk was very big, but he wasn't very scary. She thought, sometimes, that he tried extra hard not to be scary, maybe because he was so big or maybe for some other reason.

She was glad the Truth Teller hadn't eaten him.

"No one really gives me trouble, though. Except the big brown-and-white chicken. She bites. But I don't think anyone's really worried about chickens. And she'll probably end up in the stew some time, once she stops laying, so that's all right."
 
If it only it were that easy to get rid of enemies - albeit completely unappetizing. Still, it brought a smile to her lips.

"If..." Alys repeated, giving the girl a slight nod. "You take care of that," she added, gesturing towards the necklace dangling from Pris' thin neck. "Leo must've made it sometime when we were in Allegria. The city before this one. I've got one too. Before -." Well, before he got himself killed.
 
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Argent’s head inclined slightly toward the girl’s acquiescence, deciding that speaking was probably not the best idea. The young pirate seemed irritated by him, though he was beginning to suspect that irritation was the standard mood for all of the crew. Perhaps he had grown more accustomed to Aamir’s joviality than he cared to admit.



The hobbled woman seemed less hostile, and Argent turned his attention back to Summer as he fell in behind Nessa.



”I just boarded as well, yes,” he offered in reply to her question. ”You can call me Argent.” He seemed pensive for a moment, letting Nessa lead without engaging. ”This might be presumptuous, but you do know what kind of ship this is, don’t you?” With an injury like hers it was clear that Summer had seen her hardships, but that didn’t mean that piracy was among them. Then again, her decision to happen into the same restaurant that two pirates captains were holding a meeting in was suspect as well.



”So we have Mal the Carpenter, and I assume Emer is your wisewoman. Hester must be the necromancer, if I were a betting man.” Argent turned his attention to their guide to address her. ”I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name.”
 
"A few more?" Mal raised an eyebrow, "I can only hope yours isn't among them."

From what they had heard, that could be likely- not that they were going to tell Caleb this, of course. They might have heard wrong, or not enough, or too much. Besides, he was the captain- if he didn't know which of his crewmates had a bone to pick with him, then he deserved whatever came of it.

"Can't say I'm enthused about the prospect of an in-air repair job, but that's partially my fault. I didn't want to get myself killed when two of your crewmates were beating each other to death outside."

Still, they'd do it. They'd always do it.

"I await your master plan to fix all this, Captain." They grumbled sarcastically, "Might I suggest some team-building exercises so we don't have any more incidents?"
 
Summer’s eyes turned to wherever Nessa pointed at, taking in every bit of information. She wanted to ask where the vault was, but that would be a very suspicious thing to ask. Knowing where she’d be staying was great for now, as her leg was growing tired of carrying her entire body weight. She was also starting to feel cold again.

“I’m good, thanks.” She lied, rejecting the friendly shoulder. “I know I’m in the infamous Hard Nox, I don’t live under a rock.” She said to Argent with a light laugh, turning to Nessa again. “Are we going to be roommates?”

***

Caleb laughed.

“I sure hope not.” He said, but just like Mal, he knew it was a possibility. “You did the right thing. If anyone else would’ve gotten involved, I fear the clinic would get overcrowded.”

Caleb went quiet for a moment. Despite being drenched in sarcasm, Mal’s suggestion wasn’t that off the curve. He let his arms loose and took a step back, ready to leave.

“Remember the conversation we had last night.” He said as an enigmatic response, disappearing up the stairs with Mal's words in mind.

I await your master plan to fix all this, Captain.

So did he.

Luckily for Caleb, the person who could help him concoct that plan was standing right outside the mess hall, along with the child they’d adopted from the Teller.

“Hey,” he said, touching Alys’ arm to get her attention. “Can we talk?”
 
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"It's okay if I keep it?" The necklace wasn't exactly riches, Pris supposed, but she had seen a lot of those already. Mr. King had a whole ship full of them, and they didn't seem to be doing him very much good. Somehow the little bit of string and sea glass seemed like it could be worth just as much, or maybe more. Or maybe it was just that no one else seemed to want to take it from her.

"I didn't know who I was supposed to give it to. I can... give it to you, if you want it. So you can keep them together." Pris didn't really want to, but it seemed like the sort of thing she was supposed to offer, anyway. And she did like Miss Alys, so it seemed like if anyone had it, that might be okay. She didn't really know how to explain it, but the conversation got interrupted anyway, by Captain O'Cain.

Somehow he made her more nervous now that he was the captain. That didn't really make much sense - he was the same person as before, wasn't he? But also he was the Captain now, and Pris supposed that meant he could throw her overboard if he wanted. She stood up a little straighter, trying to pretend that she belonged there and she wasn't just a stowaway. Maybe if she pretended hard enough, he'd believe it.

Maybe if she pretended even harder, she'd believe it too.
 
Alys glanced over her shoulder, briefly meeting Caleb's gaze. Her chin dipped into a nod before she turned back towards Pris. "No, you keep it. He would've wanted you to have it." The fae hardly knew what their relationship had looked like; but the girl had left the kitchen and cleaned the last mess he'd leave behind. She was one of few who actually cared.

Noticing Pris' change in posture, she turned back towards the Captain, a small smile on her lips. The weight of the bucket dug into her hand, so she shifted it to the other, without looking down. "I was just telling Pris that if anyone gave her any trouble she could come to you. Right?"
 
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Caleb didn’t notice the shift in Pris at all, but he noticed the bucket in Alys’ hand, and that made him sick. Was she the one who had cleaned it up? Was it both of them? Even though he knew she’d probably seen worse aboard the Truth Teller, that wasn’t a job for a nine year old, or whatever age Pris was.

“What?” He asked, while processing Alys’ request. With pursed lips, he looked up from the bucket into her eyes, and then at Pris. During their time in Leimor he should’ve tried to find a family to take care of her, but he couldn’t deny she had made herself useful. Besides, Emer liked her and it was important to give her all the reasons to stay, even if that meant ruining this girl’s childhood even more. Maybe on the next port.

“Sure. Anytime." He said, hoping that would be the end of that conversation and she wouldn’t actually hold him to it.
 
“Doubt many board this ship not knowing what it is.” Nessa said, her amber gaze falling on Argent. She did feel a little twinge for Ronan, she hadn’t seen him about for a few days now which was scarcely ever good. Now wasn’t the time for that though, so she looked back forward as she walked. “It’s Nessa.” She said to Argent’s other question, though she left out professional thief and resident vampire. Didn’t want to make things too easy now did she?

“Mm, yeah I suppose we will be.” Nessa said with a thoughtful tap on her cheek. Would it be Beck’s old bed or Alys’s? “Which, speaking up, women’s bunk is down the hall before you reach the mess, washrooms are across the way and the men’s bunk is just out from the stairs.” She pointed the way again as she spoke.

“Guns are on the next deck, but we’ll skip gawking at those and head directly for Mal’s workshop.” She added with a wave of her arm to motion the two to follow her down.
 
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Only once Caleb turned to leave did Juniper raise their eyes, heart hammering in their chest, jaw clenched. It was almost as if he were doing it on purpose by this point, but they knew better. Doing this here, belowdecks, so close to the canons, would take everyone with him, instead of just him. Maybe if they caught him alone.

And then something unexpected happened. It was maybe the most Juniper had ever heard Hester speak at once, and it was funny. She started apologizing, and they replied with a smile and a giggle, which, as the frankly flawless impression ran through their head again, grew into full laughter. Through the laugh, they said, "No, it's fine! Better you than me, I think I was a half second from lighting his pants on fire."

They managed to calm theirself down, after a bit, and then they spoke again. They didn't think beforehand, they just spoke, changing their voice to imitate their young, rash captain, hoping to keep this light feeling a bit longer. "I'll need to talk to you later," they said, playing up the depth of the voice which was still strangely accurate in spite of their making fun of him. "Honestly, I don't know what's gotten into him lately, but he sure does think he's larger than life now."
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"Better too confident than not confident enough, I suppose. Unless the former is a mask for the latter." It was nice that her outburst had helped to cheer Juniper up. That fact did little to fill in the feeling of falling in Hester's own stomach, but, well. At least nobody was dead. She'd have to start over with the constructs, too.

Okay, no, the image of Caleb jumping around with his pants on fire did help a little. The small smirk she couldn't quite hold back spoke to that. Oh well.
 
The laughter died down, after a moment, and they settled back into their work. It only lasted a moment, as they very suddenly remembered that the ship had taken to air, which meant that there was no reasonable way the Leimor city guard would be able to search the ship, which rendered everything they'd done to that point pointless. "Oh, uh, I suppose we should stop taking these apart, then," Juniper said, entirely uncertain, halfway through unwinding a bit of wire from around the joint of a bone.

They did catch the smirk, on the back end of it. The changeling smiled again, at that. They'd not seen Hester anywhere near a smile since she'd come aboard, so it was good to see her enjoying something, even if it was downright mutinous talk. Not that they'd ever tell.

"You know, it's odd." They set the half-disassembled construct down in front of them. "He's been on the Nox for nearly ten years. Near as I can tell, he's not much older than me, so he's been here nearly half his life." Then their eyes dropped to the floor in front of them. Was it smart to say any of this? There was a vague recollection of he and her sharing a dance, before thing broke bad, but they very distinctly remembered forgetting their glasses on their bunk that night, so everything was literally blurry. Besides, it was too late to retract the words now. "You'd think, with all that time, he'd know what to do. He was Sinead's second for all of my time here. A year and a half, by now I think. And yet, somehow, it feels like every decision he makes is exactly the opposite of the right one. It..."

They made a dreadful realization in that moment. "Hm. I... suppose I can't talk. About knowing what to do, anyways. I've spent my whole life with my magic, and I don't have half an idea of how to control it all the time." Juniper raised their gaze, back to the necromancer, who had skillfully and quickly pulled together all of these constructs, using a magic they couldn't begin to comprehend quite yet. "How did... you figure it out, Hester?"
 
At Summer’s laugh Argent’s eyes narrowed slightly. It wasn’t incriminating in itself, but the convenience of her timing to board the ship was suspect. Whether she was a shipless pirate looking for a crew or something more nefarious, it was perhaps an indication that she had been intent upon the Nox from the moment she entered the Last Meal. He rolled the thought over as Summer asked after her sleeping arrangements, and set his suspicions aside when Nessa provided her name.



Though he had some interest in the firepower the Nox could bring to bear Argent followed after Nessa, adding ticks and pins to his mental map of the ship as she pointed. His situation was integrally different from Summer’s, and while he was sure he would be assigned quarters with the other men he felt some trepidation at the prospect. He would have to sleep with one eye open, and his things close at hand, until some level of trust was established with the rest of the crew.



”You know the ship well,” Argent said to Nessa, pointing out the soft fall of her feet in near silence compared to the squeaking, heavy footsteps bis boots made. ”How long have you been with the Nox, if I may ask?”
 
“The famous Mal.” Summer muttered, while struggling to make her way down the stairs. It almost made her regret not staying behind to meet her new bed, but it would be better to solve the matter of her lack of a foot as soon as possible, even if it didn’t solve the other thing. The other thing would need more time.

She maintained a few meters of distance between her and the other two, who had a much easier time walking. She stopped to rest for just a second, preparing to go down another set of stairs.
 
Captain O'Cain definitely had other things on his mind. He seemed very distracted, when Miss Alys asked him a question. Pris shared a look with Lady Fingers, which wasn't really a shared look, because Lady Fingers was made of bone and didn't have any eyes or even a face. But Pris looked at her, and she had the feeling Lady Fingers was looking back, and even if that was a silly feeling, it was still comforting.

It was probably something to do with being Captain. "It's okay," Pris said, helpfully or maybe not helpfully. "You probably have a lot to think about. Mr. King used to be like that sometimes, too. Usually before the ship ate someone." That had not come out as helpfully as she had meant it to, she thought. "Um, what I mean is - maybe you need to eat something?"

Probably not someone, though. This ship wasn't really like that, at least, it mostly wasn't like that. Probably. Not right now, anyway.
 
There was something absent in Caleb's eyes - in his initial response. And before he gave Pris his reassurance, Alys followed his gaze down to the bucket.

She was still angry with him, but speaking with Pris had seemed to calm her emotions. Made her consider, rather than immediately react. Placing her second hand on his shoulder, she remembered the distressing words he'd spoken while asleep. And wondered if recent events and nightmares were on his mind, rather than appeasing a little girl.

"It's no trouble, really, Pris," she added. "And you're probably right." Alys briefly glanced towards Caleb, before dropping her hand, not allowing it to linger any longer. Of course, he'd just eaten, and even if he'd had an appetite, it was probably gone by now. Still, the girl was trying.

"I'll see you later, alright? I'll think of my best story."

Then, she looked to her Captain, already beginning the walk towards the upper deck. "Upstairs, then?"
 
He tried to disguise a frown that took shape at the idea that he could be anything like ‘Mr. King’. He had interrogated Hester about him, but it hadn’t crossed his mind up until that point that Pris could know some interesting things as well. It’d have to wait, for he had more urgent matters to deal with, and he needed Alys' help. At first he considered the office would be a good place to have that conversation, but knowing Lucien was just next door in the clinic, he took them to his bedroom instead.

“Emryk nearly killed Lucien. They’re both with Emer right now.” He said in a low voice, after locking the door behind him. “I don’t know if the baron is gonna make it, but the cockroach certainly will.” Caleb let out a long sigh and sat at the edge of his bed, sliding his hands up his face. He knew Alys was listening but his stare was vacant, as if he was talking mostly to himself.

“Emer has the bracelet. If she’s as smart as I know she is she'll put it on him and that’s going to keep Lucien under control, but then there’s the rest of the crew. They all fucking hate me.”
 
Silently they climbed, their descent interrupted by a brief report informing them that everyone was accounted for, in addition to four new arrivals, including a feline. Alys gave the crewmate a nod then passed through the threshold. Cool, fresh air welcomed her deprived lungs and swept her hair loosely from the nape of her neck. She couldn't get far enough away from the polluted city.

Wordlessly, and somewhat tentatively, she followed behind Caleb. But not without immediately dumping the contents of the bucket over the side of the ship and resting the empty tin against a nearby barrel.

She took a seat at the corner of his desk, where she'd made space for herself less than a dozen hours ago. She sat and listened; first to the horribly unfortunate news that Lucien was still alive, and the fact that the newly appointed quartermaster had been unable to finish the job at the expense of his own wellbeing. Thankfully, Emer held the key, and now, the motivation.

Then came the second dilemma. Alys watched him carefully, how his hands dragged down his tired face, reflexively careful around the eye patch. "It'd be painfully boring if things went exactly how we wanted them to." She leaned forward slightly. "What was it like when Sinead first became Captain? How old were you?"
 
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