RP Pirates of the Hard Nox 2

It hurt to admit, but lately Juniper hadn't been paying much attention to Nessa and her wellbeing. To their credit, the two of them operated on largely opposite sleep schedules, so it was easy to miss each other, but after a moment of thought, given what the others had said in the room, it suddenly felt very clear that something had been wrong. They recalled Nessa eating an apple, back in the Ice Lands not long after the captain's death. That had been odd, but so much was happening, and so much had happened since, it'd just... gotten lost. Buried.

But now that they were looking at it, and close enough to it, something felt... strange. They'd not said anything to this point, still sulking and upset with the way things had gone the last couple days, but this felt more important than that. Juniper moved from where they had been, over to the group, stepping up beside Nessa.

"May I see it, for a moment?" they asked, voice soft. She seemed reluctant, and they didn't want to make demands of her. "I know the Baron just gave it back, but I want to check something." The way they referred to him seemed to have some small amount of bite to it, though they felt justified in that, and it wasn't as if they were known for hiding their feelings in the first place.

Thankfully, Nessa didn't object, and Juniper took the ring into their own hand. The sorceress took it between two fingers, rotating it around, taking a look from every angle. It looked similar to how a jeweler would appraise a piece, though they had no idea what to look for in that sense. Instead, they were feeling for something, something they thought they felt a moment ago which had brought them over in the first place.

Of course, if someone more experienced, with more mastery had been around, they may have been able to tell every minute detail about the enchantment, and maybe would have been able to tell who even created it. Everyone's magic had it's own specific texture, but Juniper hadn't learned to tell the difference yet, but they could certainly tell something.

"It's enchanted," they said, handing it back to the younger vampire, "and I'm pretty sure not in a good way. It feels... bad? Dark. Maybe not like, angry, but... dark. I don't think you should wear it anymore. Or keep it."
 
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Lucien was sorely tempted to test the old quartermaster’s words, to lash out and snap his twig of a neck and watch the light fade from his one remaining eye. He had thought there would be some accord between them, but perhaps she had taught him better than even he suspected. After all, if there was one rule that Sinead chose to live by, it was to always be a bastard.

Nessa’s anger flared up, and Lucien’s eyes flicked down to watch her, to take in her appearance. She was pale, more so than was healthy even for a vampire. They had not been on raids in so long, and she looked as if she had not been eating. His murderous gaze shot towards Caleb at the comment about drinking blood.

“And not all fairies are like you, thank the gods for that.” He muttered in response, not caring whether Caleb heard him or not. The meeting ended, most dismissed save for them. Lucien was ready to leave as well, but he truly did not know how tight this leash was, nor how quickly it would snap his neck. So he stayed, raising an eyebrow at Alys’s question that came from seemingly nowhere.

Before he could speak, the journal weighing heavily in his pocket, Nessa spoke. The ring glistened like a crystallized drop of fresh blood, and Lucien realized what it was, what it was taking. The journal must have come with the ring, she must have left it in his cloak by accident. He was a fool.

Lucien stepped forward, ignoring the other parties as he placed a hand on Nessa’s shoulder, looking down and past her with eyes that had never been soft, could never be soft, not for all the murder and hatred and anger in them, and yet in this light, could almost be mistaken for having a soft sadness to them.

“I am sorry,” Lucien muttered, quiet enough that only those closest could hear. “I should have noticed sooner.” There was a pause, as though the vampire was unsure of what he would say, although Lucien never had to think of his words.

“I know that you are scared.” He refused to meet her eyes. “You do not have to be a monster. You do not have to be like me.” Lucien reached out a hand for the ring, letting her choose whether to give it to him instead of just taking it.

“But I refuse to let you continue wasting away. If you wish,” Another pause, unsteady. “I can end it, if that is what you would prefer.”
 
Caleb didn’t know enough about diamonds or magic to have much of an opinion. How bad could it be, for an immortal being? He considered asking, but chose to keep his mouth shut, as it wouldn’t lead to anything but make him look bad.

He watched Nessa, Juniper, the ring, and was surprised by the way Lucien stepped in, getting close to the sickly girl, whispering things he could barely discern. He didn’t need to listen in to see what he knew that, under different circumstances, the vampire would try to hide. Caleb knew between them there was a sort of bond - cut of the same cloth, as you will. But never before that moment had Lucien Kilta made it clearer that it was more than just that.

Hoping no one would notice and for the first time since Emryk had made his demands, Caleb looked for Alys’ gaze. ‘Are you seeing this?’ was the silent question, before his attention turned to the couple of vampires again.
 
Nessa took the ring back from Juniper, and turned it slowly in her fingers as if searching for the same signs of whatever it was that the pyromancer could see. She couldn’t, of course. Or, was it how the crimson moved beneath the surface like cloudy water sluggishly chasing after the end of a motion? How light caught the edges in cutting flashes once she held it close to stare. Or, maybe it was the shade of her own skin, ashen and thin as if the ring wanted her to be as pale as it had been.

Nessa looked to Alys, her lips pulling into a thin line before nodding. That morning, it had been after she had taken a bite from the apple hadn’t it? There had been a splash of red, like a single drop of color vanishing into a barrel of water.

Nessa turned at the sound of Lucien’s approach, though her own expression didn’t soften, though there was a shade of conflict, still she listened. Unlike with the others Nessa did not hold the ring out in her open palm, instead she pinched the band between two fingers, though she doubted she really had the strength to keep him from pulling it free.

“You have a choice too, you know.” Nessa said, just as gently. “Violence isn’t all a soul holds.” She relaxed the grip she had on the ring, when he made no move to take it from her.

“I’m still angry at you, you know.” That she said louder and she lifted her hand. She held the ring out to place it on Lucien’s palm, but she hesitated. There was a flash of a face in her mind, eyes wide in the moonlight. Nessa flinched and closed her eyes. Was this just running too or was it just… with an effort Nessa relaxed her hand and with a lurch in her chest, she felt the ring drop from her grasp.

She pulled in a breath, and let it out.
 


Emryk watched the exchange with palpable skepticism. There was a side to Lucien oft-unseen, it seemed, and Caleb seemed just as surprised as he did. Coupled with the stinging tone from Juniper's earlier referral, he felt increasingly dissociated-- like he wasn't here. Like he shouldn't have been privy to this. Some deep conflict appeared to come over his face, for a moment, and he crossed his arms as he returned to the far wall, settling against it as Nessa made her appeal to the elder vampire. Perhaps her words would have some effect. Perhaps not.

"You're strong enough to overcome." Emryk stated, a great deal more flatly than he would have liked. "Do we have any other matters to settle, or are we dismissed, Captain?"

 
Alys wasn't the only one taken aback by Lucien's sudden change in demeanour, displaying the closest thing to affection she'd ever seen from him. She arched a brow in response to Caleb's glance, and like him, quickly turned her attention back to the two vampires. She'd seen them together before, though not quite like this. As odd as it was, this was a good thing, in more than one way.

Watching as the ring dropped into Lucien's outstretched hand, she felt a wave of relief, knowing that Nessa was choosing to part with it. Rising to her feet, the fae wandered over towards Juniper, who stood close by, also watching the encounter. "What do you make of the change in colour?" She assumed their staff acted more to harness power, whereas the ring... was it a transfer? Vampiric power for what, a relief from the curse?
 
Caleb nodded at Emryk’s question, slowly taking steps back towards the door. Lucien seemed to know more about the ring than the rest of the people in the room, and the captain had a bad feeling of what could happen if the spell was broken with all the blood pumping around a starved vampire.

Once outside he followed after the baron, hoping to catch him alone.

“Thank you for keeping things under control.” He said at his back. “I meant what I said, and I won’t take extreme measures anymore without discussing it with you and Alys first… It’ll be easier with that rat on a leash. I think.” A big part of him still wished to kill him, but no matter how scared he was of Lucien, there was a group of people he feared even more, and he’d need his strength if they were ever to face them. He clutched his right hand into a fist.
 


Taking the silence as acceptance, Emryk's stentorian frame disappeared beyond the threshold. His footsteps were ghostlike-- it was odd, how he could make himself nearly silent if he so pleased. There one moment, gone the next.

Unfortunately, the Captain was not yet done with him. Emryk turned to face Caleb, his gaze sunken and his visage tired. There was an immense fatigue to his presence, though it did not suggest weakness-- he was not a branch to be snapped in a breeze, but a rooted oak. Age showed in his scales in a way that had not been present before his fight with the vampire. He was mortal, he was dying. It was a miracle he was still alive, but he still yet persisted.

He let his Captain speak, then delivered a soft nod of acknowledgement.

"I want him gone if he kills an innocent again." Emryk stated. "And I do not mean from the ship." And that was all he had to say upon the matter. "Keep Alys close. She'll be good for you." Those who weren't smart often surrounded themselves with those who were. Emryk could hardly attest to his own wit, but Alys seemed the best of any of them to lead, barring Caleb and Ciaran. "You have my sincere apologies for the hole in the Nox and the fight with Lucien. I have a standard to uphold, and I failed you. It will not happen again."

He intended to make good on that, if nothing else. This ship would not break him.

 
When he’d first met Emryk, smelling like burnt scales and completely malnourished, he hadn’t looked as depressing as he did right at that moment. It wasn’t just his fight with Lucien, it was all of it. Perhaps the pirate life wasn’t for him after all, and he was just having that realization. A dangerous realization to have, at that time when he was needed the most.

“You need another drink, quartermaster.” Caleb said, using the little authority he had to guide him to the office, where the best liquor of the ship was stored.

“I’ve wanted Lucien dead for almost two years.” He said, opening the cabinet to get two large glasses. “But if we’re going to meet with the Teller again, and I know we will, we have a better chance at surviving with that son of a bitch. At least until we find a better weapon.” He poured the two generous drinks, taking a long sip of his after offering the second cup to Emryk. “Let me guess- Emer asked you not to kill him.”
 


You need another drink.

He did not. It was, perhaps, the last thing he needed, but he had already dug himself into the trenches with the previous two bottles of wine, and one more wouldn't send him over. He knew his limits, and he knew better than to let his guard down. Even around allies. Emryk gave a silent nod and followed the Captain to his office, settling down with a low grunt of settling bones and aching muscle. His age showed a bit, in that moment, though he still looked fierce. Punished, but not pathetic.

"Her, Nessa, and Juniper." He stated plainly. "It is what it is." He took a small sip, nursing his glass. Caleb had the entire bottle to go if he intended to match the Baron. "Two years is shorter than the time you'd been upon the ship, isn't it? Why that point?"

Of course, he knew why. Not the specifics-- nor the generalities, really-- but it was easy enough to infer. Something had happened, two years ago, or else it would've been a vague recollection of hatred for the vampire from an unspecified point. There was a remembrance that came with grief. He knew that much.

24 years and 6 months. It was as easy for him as breathing.

 
'It is what it is', as in 'I won’t talk about it'. Caleb didn’t press on the matter, instead silently wondering if the baron’s question was worthy of an honest answer. Unable to come up with a valid justification not to, he lowered his gaze to the glass.

“A whore. She thought it’d be a good idea to steal from the captain, met Lucien on her way out.” Caleb didn’t say he loved her - He never did out loud, and probably never would. It was in the past anyway, and it didn’t hurt as to think about it as it used to. He drank another sip.

“He’s never hurt a crew member though, ever. Not while she was alive.”
 


"He's testing you. Seeing what he can get away with." Emryk muttered, staring at the wall as he continued to slowly empty his drink. The warmth was hardly comforting. "Like an animal, shitting upon your carpet. You were right to use whatever that bracelet is. If it works." He shrugged. "And if it doesn't, I'll finish what I started. I'm more worried about Naveen, though."

Wherever that bastard was lurking, he hoped it was somewhere insufferable.

"They respect you, but they're angry with you." Emryk stated. "All of them are going to test you. Some will do it without knowing. Some will do it entirely on purpose." He looked to Caleb, at that. "Reward loyalty, but do not punish skepticism. Punish insubordination. If there's a mutiny, that changes things. But Juniper being angry at you will pass, if you show her compassion. If you give her reason to regain that trust."

The glass clattered, a moment, upon his teeth. He nursed another sip from the glass, and sighed. "I'll see you through until the end of Solomon King, Caleb. You have my word upon that, and my word is my bond. King will die, you'll get what you need from him, and then I will return to the Isles," He explained, having prepared this speech in his head a thousand times over. "Until then, I am with you. Until the end." He made sure to meet the Captain's gaze, at that. "But to do that, I need to know what your plan to deal with him is."

 
It made sense, and Caleb couldn’t help but feel somewhat proud of himself for earning Emryk’s fatherly approval. He’d never gotten that from his own father, but he’d also never respected his father. It felt good.

“Juniper is… Hard to deal with. But I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.” He drank, and sat behind what used to be Sinead’s desk.

Caleb leaned back on the chair and twirled his glass, seeing the liquid dance inside it, while Emryk laid out his plans for the future, after Solomon King. It was impossible to know how long that would take, it could be three weeks, or a lot longer than that. It could all end tomorrow.

“I’ll leave you with a huge pile of gold when you do.” He said, and took another small sio of his drink. “But I need you to promise something. That if everything goes south and we don’t make it, you’re going to take Emer with you and keep her safe. If not for your feelings for her, as gratitude. You’d be dead if it wasn’t for her, we all would.” Caleb waited for his response before adding: "I don't know yet. I know he has a fucking army of dead birds, and we can't kill what's already dead. He has something big planned, he wanted Sinead's help to do it and she refused."
 


Emryk gave a soft chuckle at that, leaning back in his chair and downing the last of his drink. He set the glass upon the table, then looked towards the Captain for a good long moment-- processing the request, brow furrowing.

A moment later, he nodded. Silence pervaded a bit longer, only to be broken by a sigh as he adjusted himself upon his chair.

"You'll find my estate along the eastern shores of the Isles-- a handful of miles west of a city. Na'Zaoryn. It's a bit run-down, but I've entrusted a few folk to make sure it doesn't fall apart," He muttered. "Should you ever find yourself in the area, I'd be happy to host."

This was the calm before the storm. He knew that. His survival from this day to the next was hardly a guarantee, but the dreams of the vineyard kept him alive. Kept him present. He let the talk of King fall to the wayside, a moment, as they sat in silence.

"What do you yearn for, Captain?" He asked, after a moment of deliberation. "What do you wish to see your life become?"

 
Caleb leaned forward with the bottle in hand, refilling Emryk’s cup before his own.

“I’m too young to think about retirement.” Caleb said with a soft, slightly alcoholized smile. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.” Not seriously, anyway. For the longest time his only plan was to become captain, and now that had been accomplished, he hadn’t had time to think about what would come next. “I’d like to buy a castle, sometime. After faking my own death so I could live in peace, without worrying about getting arrested.” He drank half of his drink in a long chug, putting it down with some excitement. “Maybe I can lay low in your state for a while. I’ve never been that far up north.”
 


Emryk gave a soft chuckle at the thought, which escalated into a wheeze-- his chest rising with a staccato rhythm as he gave a pained laugh, shaking his head as he looked to Caleb, then back to the window of the office. "The one-eyed count, then? Mh--- hm-hmh." At that, he gave a genuine smile-- not mocking, but amused. "Laying low in the Isles might prove troublesome. Skin is easy to spot from scales." He shrugged. "And our opinion of fairies is poor. I'm sure you can understand why." An apologetic look, at that, and he tilted his head. "Might be an adjustment to go from scoundrel to fop, but you have the chops for it, I think. Count O'Cain does have a threatening ring to it, though."

His smile faded, but did not disappear. Again, the silence persisted; again, he broke it with a breath.

"Whatever your path, just-- do not lose yourself." He stated, looking to the Captain with a sincere glint in the eye. "Be true to who you are, and who you want to be. You do this for to long, and you run the risk of ending up like her," He stated, voice a thoughtful rumble. Like cascading stones. "Or him." It was easy to tell which pair's misdeeds he was speaking to. "Hatred is a scourge, Caleb. It eats. It rots. And you will not know peace until you make it."

 
A count. Caleb had met enough of those to know he didn’t want to be anything like them, those pompous assholes. It was a nice thought though, a castle by the beach, a couple of children with brown skin and blue wings running towards him with open arms… He sighed.

“I’m sorry about my kind.” He said, a look of comradery in his eye. Silence fell between them, the wisdom in Emryk’s words warming up Caleb’s jaded heart.

“You’re a lot like her. You see the best in people.”
 


"Not your fault," Emryk stated simply. "Evil finds itself wherever convenient. It chooses the path of least resistance," He gestured with a small wave of the hand, back down to the table. "Like water down a hill. It is not racial, nor is it prejudiced. Evil has no agenda; it is the consequence of agenda that allows it to be used so expertly." He sucked air through his teeth, then sighed. "Like a sharpened knife, or a bow. A tool to be used by the wicked."

He gave Caleb a side-eyed glance, upon being compared to Emer, and he stared back out through the window. "She's afraid." Emryk muttered, eventually. "Afraid of losing what she has fought to gain. Belonging. Family. Even at the cost of those around her. Ten years, she knew Sinead, and never thought herself fit to take a stand despite her relationship with the Captain. That-- that should tell you the quality of her character, that nobody could say a damned word against her for over a decade," Emryk stated, frustration flaring for a moment as he sat forward. "Lucien told you that Sinead never kept him on a leash. That was because she let him maul. You remember that," He stated. "You remember that. He needed no cowing because she was content to let him slaughter. You have a conscience, and that is good."

His tone was firmer, now. He leveled a pointing finger at Caleb, as his other hand poured himself another drink. "You keep that. You hold onto that, for it is jewels in the ocean. Lost once, and never found again."

He set the bottle down. Emryk rose the drink to his lips, halted a moment, and then thought better of taking a sip, setting it back down upon the table. "Her body is still there. In the Ice Lands. Under the water." Jewels in the ocean. "It does not sit right, with me."

 
Evil wasn’t as simple as Emryk saw it as. Caleb had met multiple sides of it, some he could excuse, some he could not. He had a conscience, yes, but it overlooked a lot of terrible things, and he was aware of it.

“Most of us can’t not be afraid. It’s how we’ve survived this long.” the burning liquid slid down his throat and his smile disappeared. “She believed Sinead loved her like a sister. The captain knew it and she fed it, knowing her love is unconditional. That’s how she kept her wrapped around her finger for this long.” His eye met Emryk’s, the memory of Emer’s tears and relentless screams making its way back in his mind. “She sees the best in people. She thinks people can change, even if they don’t want to.”

Emryk’s last comment brought him a frown, the corners of his lips tilting down. He couldn’t fake it, nor did he want it at that moment.

“She liked the cold. It’s a fitting resting place.”
 


"I would like, perhaps foolishly, to believe there was a glimmer of true compassion within that woman," Emryk replied, finally opting to tend to his drink; it was a longer swig, now, as if to make up for the hesitation before. "Like with Lucien and Nessa. People are odd, odd things. Contradictory by nature." He swirled his drink in his glass, a moment, then set it back down.

"I still have nightmares of it. Sometimes." He admitted, brow furrowing as he looked beyond the window, now-- beyond the cabin, beyond the world itself to the faint glimpses of memory from their time in the Ice Lands. He'd tried to forget much of it, but there were some things that refused to leave the subconscious. "Swimming, down, down, trying to get her. Sometimes she's smiling. Sometimes she's holding onto me, and she's pulling me. Sometimes..."

... it is Emer, not Sinead.

"... do you want to change, Caleb?"

Emryk's gaze centered, sharp, upon the Captain. Not quite a pointed look, but certainly a pointed question.

"You needn't lie to me." He raised an eyebrow, finger drawn along the rim of the glass. "And I would prefer if you did not."

 
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