RP Pirates of the Hard Nox 2

Alys exhaled heavily, her limited patience already wavering. Indeed, most people wouldn't shout out their name after they'd been caught attempting to assassinate a member of nobility. Drunk and in shock, he clearly needed more.

"After you've answered my questions." She cast a sidelong glance to the crumpled heap by her side, then took a half step away as if to make space for the groom. An attempt at showcasing good faith. After all, perhaps she'd need more than just answers from him. "What did he look like?" The fae added half a breath later, as to not waste time.
 
Lucien did not turn immediately at the sound of the door opening. If it was foe, the game would be up and the chase would begin. If it was friend, or whoever on the Nox could be considered even relatively close to that, then he had nothing to fear. The vampire slowly lifted his head from his meal, turning to look at the new arrival, a smirk spreading across his blood-stained face. The princess's corpse fell from his grip and was unceremoniously dumped back into the milky waters of the tub, the subsequent waves spilling slightly over the side before settling.

Lucien himself bent over, grabbing the forgotten crimson towel and wiping his lips clean. Only when he let the towel fall back to crumple on the maid's form did he acknowledge the other man in the room.

"Good evening, Captain." He said with a certain twist to his voice. "Are you enjoying the wedding?" His head cocked to the side as another scream made its way to his ears, slightly different than the first. It cut off abruptly, and Lucien simply ignored what it could mean. He was not the one in charge of this operation, so he was not at fault if some of the other would-be assassins lacked his decades of experience.

"How have you been faring on your own? Surely you must have made some progress on this fool's errand of yours." Lucien looked back towards the tub, limbs sticking out of it at odd angles like the roots of some pale swamp tree. "I apologize, were you about to take care of her? I saw no sign of you, so merely decided to do my best to assist." Lucien bowed low, making a show of letting his sleeve fall back to reveal the bare skin where once was the bone bracelet.

"Captain." He said once more, in that same mocking tone.
 
"Good evening, Captain. Are you enjoying the wedding?"

“More than the bride, or her father in law.” Caleb answered, but unlike Lucien’s, there was no hint of amusement in his voice.

The truth was, he hadn’t accomplished anything on his own. Perhaps he had prevented Argent from getting captured, or maybe the silver haired elf could have escaped on his own, there was no way of knowing. It was the person he loved and the person he despised the most who stained their hands on his behalf and it was his friend who would likely get tortured if they didn’t get to him fast enough.

“We need to find Alys and Nessa. Ciaran was captured and it’s a matter of time for the entire guard to get here.” The only reason why there wasn’t an alarm ringing was the presence of the important guests downstairs, oblivious of the deaths happening over their heads.

Caleb didn’t know who had removed the bracelet from Lucien’s arm, but it didn’t matter now. Despite the mocking tone, it was the first time he’d addressed him as captain instead of quartermaster, and perhaps that meant he wouldn’t rip his head out as soon as he walked past him. Perhaps. Caleb crossed the room towards the other door, opening it just enough to peak outside. A cloaked figure far too familiar alone in the hall gave him enough confidence to gesture for the two men behind him to follow as he walked out of the room.
 
She'd moved aside. Cormac took the opening, slipping uncomfortably past her and kneeling down on the ground in his sister's blood, gathering what was left of her into his lap. He didn't try to run. It wouldn't have helped.

He could have refused to answer, but that wouldn't have helped either - and she'd let him by. "Dark hair. A Fir Bolg. Dressed as a servant, but I don't suppose that means anything."

No, she was dressed as a servant, too, wasn't she? Cormac touched his sister's hair, hesitantly, loath to draw his fingers through the blood but feeling a strange need to get it out of her face, as if that would change anything.

"Do you have any siblings?"
 
At Lucien’s release of the Princess into the bath water Argent released Caleb’s shoulder and stooped to pick up the guard’s foot again. The vampire wiped his face clean and addressed his captain tauntingly, ignoring Argent as he slipped past O’Cain and navigated around the murdered maid’s expanding pool of blood. Though the elf mostly ignored the Navigator in turn his gaze flicked to the broken leash at its revelation.



Almost gently Argent laid the guard over the edge of the bathtub, levering his arms over the edge so that they fell into the milky water and held him in something of a kneeling position with his head laid against the edge. The elf hadn’t brought the unconscious man along with any sort of plan in mind; had simply been removing him from the hall to lengthen the time before his discovery. Looking around the room as Caleb crossed to the other side, however, Argent saw an opportunity knocking.



As Caleb peeked through the main doorway Argent carefully stepped to the dead maid’s side, avoiding her humors and removing the crumpled towel from her face as he did so. The blade of Lucien’s stolen dagger was buried so deep that only its hilt was visible from the woman’s throat, jutting out at a slight angle so that the light caught the pommel sharply. With no small effort Argent yanked the blade free before returning to the unconscious gaurd and removing a matching weapon from his belt.



He knew it would only serve as a brief diversion as he wrapped the guard’s fingers around the bloodied blade, though the idea of what might happen in those precious moments gained offered some small amount of entertainment. Caleb might have wished for as few deaths as possible, but the man had leveled his blade for the silver-haired elf. A little chaos and misdirection seemed less than he deserved for such an act.



Work done, Argent fell in with O’Cain at the door. He offered no explanation; none was asked of him and in truth the Navigator and the Captain seemed far more interested in each other than in what he might have been doing. If he hadn’t known that O’Cain was wrapped around his first mate’s finger he might have suspected something more between the two. Hatred and love were often hard to distinguish. As he followed a few steps behind Caleb into the hall proper a soft, muted smirk curled at the corner of Argent’s mouth.
 
Fuck.

Ciaran - one of two that mattered.

She had a saving grace though, someone who could and would take her to where he was being held.

But when she looked down at him, Alys didn't find the silent assurance she was looking for. No, she watched the pair; the way an older brother held his sister so gently in his lap, the look of despair on his face as he brushed her hair away.

She nearly flinched when he asked his question, and unlike her previous retorts, this answer came slowly. "No, I don't." Another moment passed before she continued. "You're going to take me to where they're keeping him."
 
Nessa watched the two, a mutter of something twisting in the pit of her stomach, perhaps it would be guilt later. Perhaps it should have been guilt now. It wasn’t, just a feeling. She didn’t speak, she didn’t lick the blood from the back of her hand, though her gaze did move from the man mourning the dead woman to Alys.

“Ciaran?” Nessa mouthed. If he went and got himself captured, they would certainly need to rescue him, she doubted the Nox could survive losing any more senior hands, especially the ones that still had the crew’s respect.
 
Lucky for them the hallway was empty, and Nessa and Alys were at the same place. There were two other people with them - one, if you only count the living ones; both people Caleb had met before. He wondered if by taking a look at his face the blond man would remember him, but he knew it was highly unlikely.

“Where’s the other twin?” Caleb asked, expecting at least one of the ladies to know the answer.
 
Cormac noticed the girl's hesitation - maybe she just didn't want to say anything about her siblings, if she had any. Or maybe there was a Situation. He'd heard plenty of people who'd gotten into those. His father had so-helpfully told him to be careful not to sire any bastard offspring until he had an heir, some years ago. It was, almost insultingly, one of the better pieces of information the man had ever given him.

There was a girl in the hallway, bloody. Cormac stared at her for a moment in horror, wondering if she'd been attacked, or... if she'd been the one...

...but she was so young.

He wasn't sure this thought was entirely helpful, but he couldn't help but having it. She looked even younger than his sister, who would never get any older. Another man had arrived - undoubtedly with the others. An entire group of assassins, then. What had happened? Did he want to know? Would it matter?

The man seemed... almost familiar, as if someone Cormac remembered from a dream, but he thought he would have remembered knowing someone missing an eye, so perhaps that wasn't it. He asked about the other twin, as if-

"Gabrielle."

It was a moment before he realized he'd been the one who had spoken. No matter. "Her name is Gabrielle." His hand smoothed Danielle's hair, the same texture, the same color, no doubt stained the same red. Cormac looked down, at her too-still form. "...Was. They wouldn't be apart for this long, else."

At least they would be together, in whatever afterlife came for girls who'd been killed for nothing.

The woman with the knife had said something to him, and he looked at her for a moment, as if trying to comprehend how little sense this all made. Why was she asking him?

He supposed he did own the place, after his father. Was he dead? Was there anyone who wasn't? Would it have been easier just to set the whole place on fire?

Perhaps this thought was not helpful. Cormac supposed he could refuse, but that wasn't going to go over well. They'd kill him, of course - later, if not now. It was really just a matter of choosing the time and place of his death.

She'd let him go to his sister, though. It was probably more than Alasdair would have offered him. Certainly more than-

"The king's advisor intends to question him. I doubt they'll execute him before that happens - though I wouldn't want to be in the room during." He'd heard stories about such things, before. He supposed he could take them down there. The guards would allow him through. Cormac didn't have much faith in their ability to rescue him, though, not when all it would take was a knife in the back. He also wasn't entirely sure he wanted to be rescued. His sisters were dead, the reputation of the manor would be ruined. The Crown Prince would undoubtedly demand his sister returned and the marriage annulled. Cormac didn't even particularly want her, but he was bothered by the slight to his household... except his household was empty with the death of his sisters.

"If I take you-" This to the woman, only to her. "Will you leave my name clear? Mine, and my sisters'." Somehow, that mattered - that this mess wouldn't get pinned on one of them. The name wouldn't continue, but at least it wouldn't die in disgrace. Perhaps that was all he could bargain for.

Perhaps it was enough.
 
Approaching footsteps consumed her attention, though only momentarily. She watched for Nessa's reaction, which thankfully indicated that the sound belonged to their own. Seemingly unharmed, yet incomplete.

The three - Ciaran, Argent, and Caleb - she'd last seen and left together. How they'd managed to get Ciaran captured, while giving the Lord of Goswick the impression that they were meant to be assassinating the Crown Prince was beyond her. Paired with the hurt she felt, Alys struggled to look at the man who spoke.

Fortunately, she didn't exactly have an answer for him. So she glanced to Nessa, a brow raised in question. It was the groom who spoke first though, pulling her attention yet again. And when he looked up at her, she felt captivated by his eyes. Helpless eyes, the very same eyes she'd looked into moments earlier. "Yes..." She breathed, giving him a slight nod.

Allowing him a moment longer with his sister, Alys looked up. "I trust that the rest has been taken care of?" Her tone was harsher, blunt.
 
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