RP Pirates of the Hard Nox 2

He'd been fine when she'd seen him last. There'd been nothing he'd said or done to suggest otherwise. One hand had already found his shoulder, but as his body went limp, Alys found herself lowering him down to lay on the deck. "Go get Emer," she told Pris, her voice cracking slightly despite her desperation to remain firm, calm.

She scanned his face; his closed eye, slightly parted lips that thankfully, continued to allow a passing breath. "Wake up," she whispered, kneeling over him, hands cupping either side of his face. "Wake up, Caleb."

Hopefully he'd wake here, and quickly, but if she needed to drag him to the clinic she would. She'd done it before.
 
Pris nodded once, firmly. She'd asked Mr. O'Cain if he wanted her to get Miss Emer earlier and he'd said just to get Alys, so she was glad that Alys was here to make that decision and not her.

"I'll find her. He was holding his wrist earlier," she added, in case that mattered. Maybe he had broken it - a bad fall, or... well, there were a lot of ways to get hurt on a ship. It was good that Miss Emer was around to fix things, she supposed. Otherwise they'd all end up... well, Mr. O'Cain didn't really seem to do the same thing with the dying ones as Mr. King did, but there was probably something they did. She hadn't asked - she didn't really want to know.

Miss Emer would either be above deck or with Mr. Emryk or in the clinic - Pris hoped it wasn't the first, although she supposed that since Mr. O'Cain had come from that way, she would have seen him earlier if it was that. The clinic was usually a good bet, so Pris went in that direction, seeking her out to try to bring her back, if Miss Alys didn't end up bringing Mr. O'Cain down here herself first.

"Miss Emer? Are you here? Mr. O'Cain - Miss Alys asked me to get you."
 
Emer was in the clinic - though Emryk was nowhere to be seen. As Pris opened the door, she perked up from where she sat, steaming tin nursed tenderly between her hands.

"I - yes, dear. Of course."

A small bit frazzled, she rose, then paused. Pris did not seem well. Not - unwell in the sense of ill, but uncertain, a sense of urgency stark in her voice. One hand settled on the strap of her satchel, the other set the tea to the side.

"Tell me what is wrong along the way."
 
"Yes, Miss Emer." Oh, good. She hadn't needed to try abovedecks after all - and Miss Emer knew what she was doing. Between her and Miss Alys, they could handle it. "I don't know what's wrong. He was coming down the stairs and he was holding his wrist like it was hurting him. I asked him if he wanted me to get you and he said no, but that I should get Miss Alys and tell her it wasn't urgent. So I left Lady Fingers with Mr. O'Cain just in case while I got her and told her that he said to tell her it wasn't urgent." Which was not the same as saying it wasn't urgent, importantly.

"And when I got back with her, he was screaming and then he fell over and passed out. And Miss Alys said to come get you and he didn't tell me not to this time." On account, probably, of having passed out, but Pris was counting that. "She caught him. By the way. He didn't hit his head." Pris had learned from Miss Emer that it was very important and bad when people hit their heads, so it was important for Miss Emer to know if that had happened or not.
 
"Who -" she started to say, then paused. "Caleb?"

Holding his wrist, screamed, and passed out. Pain could do that, but the sort of pain that did that was often the sort of pain you could see. A break? A burn?

"It is very good that he did not hit his head," she agreed. "I will say, however, the next time someone is ailing, come to me, even if they say otherwise. Is that clear?"

They came upon the scene quickly. Caleb laying motionless on the ground, Alys kneeling over him. Immediately, Emer knelt beside her, pressing her finger to the side of his throat, then the back of her hand to his lips. She moved her attention to his wrist, which she probed at gently. She frowned.

"Alys, dear - you two are close. Do you have any thought as to what might have caused this?"
 
With a lump lodged in her throat, Alys felt herself grow even more concerned having heard Pris' observation. She'd seen it too, of course, though it happened so quickly she hadn't processed it. Left over right, fingers encircling his wrist. Alys reached for his right hand, the pad of her thumb brushing over the tattooed mark - the mark that'd appeared in the Ice Lands, shortly after Sinéad's death.

Emer's arrival brought a small sense of relief. She provided space by moving over, yet kept his hand in hers. "He hadn't said anything ." But he'd been close.

Turning his wrist over, she showed Emer the mark. The brand. It wouldn't have been a secret; everyone knew that the Nox was apart of his fleet. "It has to be this. He was in pain, holding it..."
 
"He's the Captain, Miss Emer." Maybe if it had been someone else, she would have gotten Miss Emer anyway, but Mr. O'Cain was the captain of the ship, and Pris knew what that meant. You didn't argue with the Captain - well, at least, she didn't. She followed along quietly anyway, more for lack of somewhere else to be than anything else, fading back against the wall while Miss Emer looked things over.

Hopefully between Miss Emer and Miss Alys, they would figure out what was happening and how to fix it. Alys turned Mr. O'Cain's wrist over, displaying a mark on it. She knew that one. Oh.

Well... that answered some things, she supposed. A lot of things.
 
Summer saw Pris hurry up to the clinic, and when she left with Emer behind her, she knew something was wrong.

She followed them, not getting close enough to hear what was being said, but seeing Alys on her knees with a passed out captain on her arms was all the explanation she needed. Running with a prosthetic foot wasn’t easy, but she made it to them as fast as she could without risking injuring herself.

“Should we take him to the clinic?” The woman asked Emer, kneeling down with clear intention to carry him over her shoulder, waiting only for the wisewoman’s permission to do so.
 
Lucien responded to Nessa's thanks with merely a nod before turning to walk with her up the stairs to the top deck. He noticed how she only took the smallest of sips, still restraining herself far too much. Nothing good ever came of holding oneself back to that degree. He scoffed at her comment about his sparring.

"It is not my fault that they cannot best me even with superior numbers." Lucien flexed his hand, claws itching to dig into something. "Besides, if O'Cain had not placed this infernal curse on me, I would not have frustrations that needed excising." He still did not know how much control he had over this bracelet, nor how deadly the ghost inside it was. He would prefer to face it on his own terms, rather than whenever O'Cain got tired of him.

The deck was alive with activity as the light prickled Lucien's skin ever so faintly. He could spot the wings of the fairies from a mile away, including the crumpled orange lying on the deck. The wisewoman was there too, implying that this was not a show of the boy's masculinity. Lucien knew it was far too much to hope for a sudden case of poisoning.

"It appears the stresses of the job have finally overwhelmed our dear captain." Lucien smirked, arms crossed as he stood by the stairs that led downward. "A shame, truly."
 
“Mm, I suppose.” Nessa said with a shrug of her shoulders. If that was the case then was anyone really getting anything out of a sparring session anyway? Well, no doubt Lucien found it fun to toy around with his lessers, but it was doubtful that would really be much of a draw for those lessers. Maybe someone would be willing to test their luck given Lucien’s new bone ornament? Well, it wasn’t like it was her problem.

The itch of sunlight against her skin as she exited out onto the deck made Nessa wince as she yanked her hood up over her head. She squinted over at the commotion, her frown not leaving her lips.

“What, did Alys finally punch him?” Nessa muttered as she watched the group gathered around Caleb. “Well, better see what the matter is now.” Nessa said with a sigh.

“Whats happened?” The young vampire called as she approached.
 
More people began to arrive, swarming like pesky flies; some concerned and willing to help, others merely curious. She began to feel suffocated, gaze bouncing from one person to the next, taking note of their expressions and comments. Taking note of Pris' widened eyes.

"He's fine. Just give us some space." Maybe she'd convince herself. Or maybe he could wake up and prove her right - that'd be ideal.

And then he'd kill her for letting them all congregate over his unconscious body like this.

So when Summer offered to help carry him, Alys responded quickly with a nod. "Take his other arm," she instructed, and the two of them, each taking on half his weight, lifted him into an upright position.

A moment later, with some readjustments, they laid him down on one of the cots inside the clinic. Straightening, Alys found herself moving to the entrance, where Pris stood by idly, watching. "You've seen that mark before, haven't you?" She asked quietly.
 
The new lady arrived, and she was apparently willing to help get Mr. O'Cain up and off the floor, which was good. Pris would have offered, but she didn't think she would be very much help. Hopefully she'd be bigger some day. She supposed she still had time. Miss Alys probably wasn't her same size when she was eleven, either.

She stayed out of the way while they got him to the clinic, not sure if she should be following or staying out of the way, so she tried to do a little bit of both, standing in the doorway and trying not to take up space while Miss Emer worked. Miss Alys came over after a moment, maybe also trying to stay out of the way - but no, there was a question there.

Pris nodded, not seeing any reason not to. She wasn't going to lie about it. "Did you... want me to tell you about it?" Not that she wasn't willing to, but... well, there were an awful lot of people in the clinic right now, and maybe this wasn't the best place for that conversation. If Miss Alys wanted her answer here, though, all she had to do was say so.

Maybe she'd want to stay near Mr. O'Cain, given that she liked him and all.
 
Crossing her arms firmly across her chest, Alys momentarily looked back to the cot, then to those who remained close. Pris' reservations were fair, and in her own eyes, not everyone needed to be privy to whatever the girl had to say. Summer, for one - a complete stranger - but also Lucien.

She didn't want to leave, but he was in good hands. And it'd only take a moment.

So they left, wandering far enough from the clinic that she felt comfortable. As comfortable as she could feel.

"Can you? Tell me about it?" Alys finally asked, voice containing nothing but dread.
 
Pris trotted along after Miss Alys, waiting until she'd picked a place to talk about it. Mr. O'Cain would be fine with Miss Emer, so she wasn't worried about that any more. She wasn't exactly sure what Miss Emer could do about it, but at least she was there.

"It's one of Mr. King's encouragement marks," Pris answered. She didn't say I think, because that would have made it sound like she wasn't sure about it. "To help people do what they need to do. He offered me one, back when I was, um, having trouble with the ritual." She shrugged. "I ended up not needing it." Sometimes, the offer was encouragement enough.

"He'll be okay as long as he does what he's supposed to be doing, Miss Alys," she said, "But I'm not sure what that is. You'd have to ask Mr. O'Cain."
 
Not even a fucking thank you.

Summer watched Alys walk away, and with some difficulty managed to hear the words that were being said to the child. Something about a mark, but anything Pris knew about it would be said outside the clinic, and far away from Summer’s ears. While Emer took care of the unconscious captain Summer stepped back, staying close enough that she could provide any assistance in case she was needed, but also that she could peek through the clinic’s door and see Alys’ back in the distance.

“It has something to do with the tattoo on his hand.” She whispered to Nessa. “Where did he get it?”
 
"And I am the wisewoman," Emer replied to Pris, almost without thought. "I will not have my folk killing themselves of foolishness."

She followed along as Summer and Alys carried Caleb to the clinic, helped adjust his head as they lay him on one of the mats, and then knelt beside him, lifting his hand and inspecting the odd marking on his wrist.

"Thank you, dears," she murmured, but most of her focus was on the sigil. She didn't seem to notice when the others left. Instead, she traced her finger over the mark, muttering a simple mending under her breath. This wasn't something he'd always had. She'd seen every inch of this boy's body - she'd have recalled.

"Have you -" she began, but Pris and Alys had already stepped out. Sighing to herself, she let Caleb's hand fall, then moved over to her counter to begin mixing a poultice. Something to draw out poisons, perhaps, at least to start.

"He did not have it before, for certain," she said to Summer, glancing over her shoulder. "Do either of you recognize it at all?"
 
A goddamn encouragement mark. The name she gave for the tattoo seemed innocent enough, though her description was sinister, to say the least. And for Sol to have offered to give one to Pris as well... Alys felt her fingers curl into fists, knuckles digging into the sides of her ribcage. They needed to get rid of him, and soon.

"So, it was a fucking warning?" Because he wasn't doing what he was supposed to. Not yet. Helping Sol take over the Isles would take time. She figured they'd fight when the time came, join his fleet.

"What if he doesn't know what to do?"

Alys paused, afraid to ask her next question, already anticipating the answer. "Could it... get worse? Worse than that pain?"
 
"Oh, I'm sure he knows what he's supposed to do," Pris said confidently. "Mr. King is very fair." It wouldn't be encouragement if you didn't know what you were supposed to do. The second question elicited a little shrug. "It'll get worse. Mostly it'll just hurt more. More often. I guess if he's really stubborn... I don't know. Probably his hand will rot and fall off or something. I mean, that's probably how I think he'd make the spell work."

It was a guess, but it seemed like it had the right feel for it, and it would be possible to do, with necromancy. You didn't want the whole person to die right away, but maybe a few parts, ones that they didn't need for their task, whatever it was. Just for a little extra encouragement.

"I don't think Mr. King would kill him right away. Not if he's useful."

Pris, as she had told Alys before, tried to be useful.
 
Most of the information seemed believable, though Alys knew to be cautious, given that Pris believed Mr. King to be very fair. For all she knew, it could be infinitely worse - hardly a comforting thought. After all, the brand hadn't been part of the deal they'd made, and she was certain about that.

Amputation was likely too simple of a solution; she wouldn't be surprised if the marked transferred higher, above the severing. They'd likely need to undo the spell somehow. And in the mean time, he'd need to do as he was told.

"Thank you, Pris. I want you to tell Emer what you told me. As soon as I get rid of some of the fuckers in the clinic, alright?"

She took a step forward, back towards the clinic. "Is there anything else I should know?"
 
"Okay." Pris wasn't very sure about the description, there, but she at least understood that Miss Alys might not want everyone to know about things, or at least, not right away. Hopefully Miss Alys had a plan for the getting-rid-of part, because Pris didn't really have any idea how to go about that.

"I think that's everything I can think of right now," she said. She didn't always know what people should know, but she supposed if something else came up, Miss Alys could always ask. "I... maybe if I knew what it was Mr. O'Cain was supposed to be doing, but I don't know if I'd know any more then or not." She also didn't know if she necessarily wanted to know what Mr. O'Cain was supposed to be doing, especially since he didn't seem like he wanted to share it with everyone.

She followed along with Miss Alys once again, to linger just inside the doorway of the clinic and see what was going to happen next. Hopefully not more screaming.
 
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