Closed Pirates of the Hard Nox [archive]

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REYN

Most monsters masked their malformations, but the mechanic never found the need. After all, they saw their body as art. What point would there be to erect a statue in the town square, only to bolt a cover to it to hide it from view? To spend years painting a masterpiece, poring over every individual detail, only to lock the finished canvas away to gather dust in a basement? To work yourself to the bone on a flying ship, a masterwork of impossible engineering, only to...

...hm.

Four arms, this time- one pair for using, another for passive-aggressively folding whenever the need arose. It was beginning to become imperative that Mal do so—without any interruptions to their workflow—lest some witless citizen find them too approachable. What right did they have to peek behind the curtain? Mal was a work in progress- a prototype- not yet fit for market! They had been for... god, how long was it now, ten years? Eleven? That needed to change. A lot of things did.

First on the itinerary; the ship. Mal didn't bother asking for a longer port, this time, assuming their request for two months of downtime would be unanimously rejected, so any major structural changes would be a no-go, as per usual. The only improvements they could make were surface-level; patchwork, like them. Better sails- clearly not better enough. New cannons, able to carry enchantments- though all things were. A more involved steering system, allowing a level of control over the ship that most vessels could only dream of- they didn't want to think about what came of that. Still, these marginal gains added up. The ship was quite ordinary when they first made it, beholden to all the pitfalls that entailed. It was something else, now, almost alive. A wooden mirror. A fifth arm. Another body.

No wonder it was in such bad shape.

Springs; they could go to a blacksmith for that. Wood was easy enough to acquire. Extra labourers were unnecessary, since they could work on this when the ship was airborne- oh, a rare treat indeed! In fact, it would help if it was. As long as the thing was held steady, then it should be easy enough to get to all the parts in place.

They threw the blueprint and the shopping list into their bag and slung it over their shoulder. A new suspension system, able to withstand these increasingly violent landings without damaging the interior. It would also function as a second layer of protection, should the ship be attacked from beneath; which, if the previous damage was anything to go by, would otherwise likely be lethal. They wanted to include a retractable metal shield as well, but the gears required to get it around some of the corners were... well, given the types of places they tended to land in, were unlikely to be forged to Mal's particular standards. Oh, well.

They left the ship.
 
FANG

Leo’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise not only at Caleb’s outburst, but at his explanation as well. Leo couldn’t picture him standing at Sinead’s hip, couldn’t imagine Caleb standing at the helm and feeding to the Captain’s whims. Then again, word was that Caleb had saved the ship’s sudden landing, and Leo had certainly seen how commanding the fairy was to the rest of the crew. But against Lucien he seemed…

Leo blushed a bit at Caleb’s suggestion to Lucien’s preferences, and his stomach rumbled slightly at the mention of leftovers. An image of Lucien at Sinead’s feet, catching dropped crumbs and slurping them from his fingers brought a grin straining against the corners of Leo’s lips. Best not to smile outright at the thought, Caleb would surely want to hear the jest and Leo found it unlikely he would be as amused, given the flow of the conversation.

”He reminds me of King’s dead crew, but he is a more alive kind of corpse.” Leo spoke as he thought of the other predator’s appearance and movement. “He does not stink, though. Only looks like he’s a few days away from rot.” Leo’s ears pricked at the sound of hammer to steel, the scents of the festival replaced by heat, sweat, and smoke. He shook his head slightly, wild hair flying. ”Can we go back now? I’m hungry and it smelled much better where everyone else was going.”
 
DELFI

"You're very perceptive." Despite not being right all the time, or not understanding certain things, Leo caught certain things most people wouldn't notice right away. It was a useful skill to have.

Everything Caleb knew about vampires stemmed from Lucien, until Nessa joined the crew and proved not all of them were bloodlusting animals. They were capable of having feelings, he knew that much by observing how often the girl sent letters to her family, being one of the few who still had living relatives and kept in touch with them.

"Vampires don't eat food like we do. They drink blood, and are sensitive to sunlight. They're also much stronger than their physical appearance leads on, but you know that already."

Right when Leo voiced his wishes to return to the festival, they arrived at a storefront with swords, axes and arrows for display. Caleb pushed the glassdoor open, ringing the customer bell.

"It'll be quick." He said, smiling politely when an old man with a big bald spot on top of his head appeared behind the counter.

"What can I do for you?" The vendor asked while Caleb walked around, analyzing the good craftsmanship of the most renown blacksmith of the region.

"Do you know how to hold a sword or do you only fight with your fists?" The quartermaster asked Leo.
 
SHODDYPRODUCT

Juniper caught on to the grin quickly, assisted by the fact that they didn't recall a bath being so expensive last they had been in Allegria. They stepped up beside Nessa, looking the man behind the counter over for a brief moment, before responding to their companion. "Mmm, both do sound very nice. I'm hesitant on the mint, though. I went by Emer's on the way here and it sounded like someone had overdone it a bit." They leaned up against the counter, arms crossed atop it, and looked to the man once more.

With a small frown, just shy of a pout, they addressed him. "Why so expensive? Last time we were here, it was a lot less. I thought this place was one of the better spots in town," the changeling said, not taking their gaze off of the worker. Their red-orange eyes watched his face closely, looking for any sort of response. "We're both quite tired, and desperately want to be able to relax and enjoy some quiet. Would you mind letting us in, please? Just the two of us, we promise."
 
ILLIRICA

"Emer, I'm warning him about you," Sinéad returned artfully. Of course Emer was perfectly capable of handling herself. Sinéad had a feeling if left to her own devices, the medicine woman would have half the youngsters in town running errands for her. It certainly seemed to be working on Emryk, and he was hardly young.

The two of them wandered off to divest the town of its share of wintermint, and Sinéad shook her head and turned her attention back to Alys. The girl seemed a bit flushed. Sinéad hadn't thought she'd be that sensitive to a discussion of maypoles and madames. If this ended up in another proposition, Sinéad was going to have to sit the crew down and have a few words. Alys ought to know better.

Not that she wasn't a lovely young woman. They weren't in a hurry through the streets, and Alys was certainly turning a few heads with her natural fairy grace. Sinéad was aware she was turning a few as well, especially the ones that turned to shock and horror after they got a better look. It was half the reason for the backless look - it was much easier to gauge people.

And then there were the ones that kept looking, likely for all the wrong reasons. Those she noted. It was good to know things about people. It didn't take long to reach their destination, and Sinéad put down a couple silver coins on the counter. "Bath and a nice meal. Bath first. How are the festival preparations going? Expecting a good crowd?"
 
GOLDEN

If Alys had learned anything over the past week, it's that paranoia made the mind crazy. She felt like she was going insane, walking side by side with the Captain towards her impending doom. It took everything she had to keep herself composed and confidant. Head held high, shoulders back, meanwhile she was imagining being drowned in jasmine-scented waters with slices of orange floating around. Delightful.

She nearly fell to her knees upon seeing Nessa and Juniper at one of the counters. Another act of mercy that the gods and goddesses she didn't believe in had provided. Maybe it was about time to start believing... Positioning herself between the two counters (for safety), Alys drowned out the conversation Sinead began to have with the employee in order to listen in to the one her fellow crewmates were partaking in.

"Did you say that the prices have risen?" Alys interrupted, her eyebrows furrowing into a dejected frown. "Surely not for some of your most loyal customers?"
 
FANG

Leo’s hunger was promptly forgotten as glittering steel greeted his eyes. Swords and daggers hung displayed on walls, axes leaned against sturdy tables, and suits of armor and scale stood watch over the exterior of the shop like polished golems. Vampires and their eating habits were secondary as Leo eagerly darted to the nearest wall of displayed weaponry.

”Do you know how to hold a sword, or do you only fight with your fists?” Caleb asked as he surveyed the wares and Leo wrapped his hands around an axe nearly as large as he was. With a strained grunt Leo lifted the weapon from its rack and hefted it over his shoulder, feet stumbling a bit as he tried to counter balance the substantial weight.

”Prison guards aren’t keen on giving weapons to inmates,” Leo said absently, a glance at the shopkeeper’s narrowed eyes enough to warn him against so openly speaking of his past. With another grunt Leo slapped the haft of the axe back into his hands and clumsily set it back on its holder. His curious hands found the hilt of a saber, all gold inlay and mother of pearl cradling sharpened steel. He sliced through the air with a faint whistle even as he looked around for the next weapon to test.

”Holding a sword is easy,” Leo said absently as he replaced the saber and snatched the hilt of a short sword from a nearby barrel. ”Pointy end goes to the enemy.” Leo stabbed at the air to mark his point, shaking his head and returning to the barrel he had plucked the short sword from. Steel clinked against steel as he rifled through its contents, golden gaze uncharacteristically intent as he looked over the weapons. They were all certainly better than a spoon, and the thought of owning his own blade plastered his grin savagely across his face.
 
DELFI

Caleb held in a chuckle upon seeing the blacksmith’s fearful face as he watched the former inmate play with his sharp and deadly weapons.

“It’s not that easy,” He said, looking over the blades on the opposite corner of the room. Those were less practical, more decorative. Caleb fancied a pretty blade, it was one of those luxuries making a living on stolen treasure would provide. “Without proper training any decent swordsman can get you killed before you get a chance to stab them with the pointy end.” His eye set on a silver dagger. Its handle was white, with golden spirals around it and a light blue gemstone at the end.

“Pick one, whatever you like. Consider it a welcome gift.” The quartermaster took the dagger into his hand, feeling the weight of it, giving his crewmate time to experiment and find his weapon of choice.
 
QUIRBLES

Emryk Vakaan turned out to be quite the good listener, especially in the company of such a well-learned wisewoman.

When the talk of Bloodleaf root and its various applications reached its natural conclusion, the Baron inquired as to the nature of the various other items upon their shopping list. Wintermint, Peppermint, Bergamot, and Gauze-- no stone was left unturned, and no root was left unpulled. Where to acquire these things, however, was a matter entirely independent of their applications. Emryk was a resourceful man, however, and so when the time came to begin their search, the Baron led his doctor through the various stalls that seemed to have propped up along the boundaries of the festival. The crowd was large and the air was rife with noise-- cheers and small instruments blaring out into the setting afternoon sun. It was a comforting sight, to be in the presence of normalcy, and the Baron relished in the ebb and flow of the crowd-- even if he stuck out like a jetty from the changing tide.

"... hm. Roots... herbs." He muttered, squinting at the page as he held it delicately between two claws. Even at a few inches from his face, the words were difficult to read. Perhaps he should have written the rest of the list himself...

"Ah! Of course. Emer-- may I?"

Not wanting the doctor to get lost in the jostling expanse of the festival, Emryk reached down a hand for her to take and set off towards a nearby booth. A few moments later, and the pair stood in front of a flower booth-- perhaps the best place to acquire herbs and roots, in the Baron's mind.

"Here we are! Shop away. I could spot the chrysanthemums from my lofty perch above the crowd, thank the earth."
 
DELFI

Isobel smiled widely when an odd couple approached her booth. Chrysanthemums seemed to be the gentleman’s favorite, but the lady didn’t seem to have made up her mind yet.

“Take a look at the jasmines!” She suggested, showing off her harvest. “They are beautiful, smell great and are perfect for wedding decorations!”
 
ANNASIEL

Baron Emryk proved himself quite curious, or at least, quite capable at feigning curiosity. He listened to her talk about bloodleaf, then asked about other things as well, until it felt like she was explaining her whole list. Emer didn't mind - it was nice to talk about anything, and this happened to be a topic she loved and knew well. As the conversation petered off naturally, she began craning her neck, standing on her tiptoes to try and spot an apothecary or alchemist among the stalls.

May I?

"Hm?"

Before she could parse the full meaning of the question, he'd taken her hand, and was leading her through the crowd with a degree of certainty. He was much taller - he had doubtless spotted something she hadn't. Still, the motion caught her by surprise, drawing out a gasp she left behind as he pulled her forward.

They arrived - at a flower booth. Not for selling the herbal kind, though some here could be used in medicine - but the decorative kind. Emer looked confused, a slight smile on her lips.

"While the flowers are quite beautiful - we only meet three days ago, Baron," she said, a little coyly. "Unless you meant to fill my list, in which case an apothecary stall would prove far more helpful."

Still, she paused to examine a bundle of daisies - and leaned in to give them a sniff.

"Lovely," she said to the shopkeep, smile widening. "How much for these?"
 
DELFI

“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t assume things.” Isobel said, blushing. The couple looked happy and comfortable with each other despite only knowing one another for three days, like the woman said. “These would be seven copper coins. Want me to wrap them up for you?”
 
UMBRASIGHT

“Oh yes, that was a rather nasty spill wasn’t it?” Nessa said, pushing the chatter along before the man could get another word in. And, by the Goddess’ grace Alys appeared to add her own voice into the scuffle. If the man had any fight left, it buckled there with a deflated slump of the shoulders. Still, it was always good fun to add an extra nail or two to the coffin, wasn’t it?

“I know, I was quite shocked myself, I was just looking to freshen up after working up a sweat helping with my mother’s booth. I suppose we’ll just need to go to the bathhouse down the street.” She reached up and placed her fingers on the coins. The man did his utmost to keep his smile on, but it was rather fraying at the edges.

“No, no, you misunderstood ladies, we’ll just be offering drinks along with your bath is all.” The man’s laughter came a little too quick, but he had a decent enough mask.

“Is that so? Wonderful!” Nessa said, drawing her hands away and bringing them together. She looked back to Alys, “a silver miss, if you were wanting the full bath service. I’ll take mead and rose myself, if you’d please.” The man nodded, with one of the thinnest smiles she had ever seen before he looked towards the other two for their preferences.

Nessa waited until they were all safely away in the changing room to clap her two co-conspirators on the shoulder and give them both a toothy grin, though her lips were quick to close.

“Fine work the both of you, we should do it again sometime,” Nessa said, with a wink. She paused for a moment, looking back towards the door. “Say, was that Sinéad at the other counter?”
 
FANG

Leo flipped through blades as if he were reading each like the page of a book, were he able to read. This one was too thin, the next too short. As he wondered why these weapons weren’t also on display Leo wrapped his hand around cold steel and he pulled his prize away from the bunch. The blade was polished nicely, no wooden handle attached in favor of an integral grip of the same steel. A rudimentary cross guard, barely pulled away from the material of the blade, matched the rough square pommel, the blade unfinished and dull to the touch, though polished to a bright sheen.

“Pick one, whatever you like. Consider it a welcome gift.”Leo smiled at Caleb’s generous offer.

Leo swung the raw sword around his head, sliding his hand down to the middle of the blade to flip the weighted handle around. With a deft twist he flipped the blade back around, slapping the grip into his oposite hand. It was like the steel called to him, ringing faintly in his palm as he examined the barely buffed hammer marks.

“What’s wrong with this one?” he asked the blacksmith idly, spinning the weapon between his fingers. All of the weapons in the barrel seemed to have something undesirable about them, but Leo couldn’t find the flaw in the prize in his hand.

”You’re joking, right?” the blacksmith replied with his chin resting on his hand. Leo looked at the balding man with a puzzled expression. After a moment of silence the blacksmith sighed. ”Its not finished, an’ prolly wont ever be. I don’t know what steel they gave me to make that blade, but that was as far as I got before I finally gave up on the damned thing and gave them a different sword for their money.” The blacksmith hung his head, dissatisfaction permeating his words.

Leo spun the weapon again, admiring the flash of the rising sun’s rays through the shop window as they reflected on the surface of the rippled steel. If it had been finished it would be a perfect tool for killing, Leo had no doubt. As it was suited Leo quite nicely, though. With an excited bounce in his step he brought his find to Caleb, holding it out reverently between both hands. “Can I have this one?” he asked with his eyes on the floor.
 
ILLIRICA

"The prices are the same as they were last time," Sinéad answered Alys, without waiting for the employee's input. She pushed the coins calmly across the counter, without the slightest hint of nervousness or tension, yet somehow the motion made it completely clear that she was not asking him what the prices were, she was telling him.

"I'd love to trade stories about scamming tourists another time, but we won't be some of them. Leave the lad, Alys, we're heading back." That being said, Sinéad simply stepped aside. There was nothing at all in her posture that would have invited him to challenge her about it, she simply acted as if it would be inconceivable to anyone that this would be an option.

And if the posture alone wasn't enough of a hint, the scars between her shoulders and the knife tucked at the small of her back as she walked away certainly would be. Fortunately, it seemed that the average bathhouse attendant was smarter than the average pirate, and he took the hint and stammered a cautious: "Ah.... Y-your preferences, miss?"

She didn't glance back, catching up with her other shipmates instead. "Surprise me. I like it most ways..." Hopefully he didn't choke on that sputter.

"Nessa, Juniper. You must have gotten ahead of us somehow. You're both looking better lately."
 
SHODDYPRODUCT

From their spot leaning upon the counter, Juniper let out a sigh, and a light smile graced their face as they looked to the bathhouse employee. "Oh, thank the gods. I was worried we'd have to go somewhere else, this is my favorite spot in town and I really didn't want to have to go. Looks like we're going with rose, and for a drink, I'd like... Oh, a nice apple juice, if you don't mind. Thank youuu!" they said as the pushed up from the counter, and with a wave and a small wink, they followed off in Nessa's direction. Already they were looking forward to the bath, and now that it was in front of them, they had a noticeable pep in their step. Meeting up with Nessa in the changing room, the changeling returned the smile, nodding.



Before they had the chance to properly respond to Nessa, however, the captain herself walked into the changing room. She seemed at ease, as usual, though it was certainly odd to see her in the context of a regular day, and not one bound aboard the Nox or surrounded by combat. The grin shrank, turning into the small smile one uses when a parent compliments you when you least expected it. They nodded, before speaking. "Yes, ma'am, much better. These baths are just going to help more." They moved to a bench and sat down, beginning to work on removing the silver rings from their hair. "I think we made it here first because we came straight here. Frankly, it was the first thing I wanted to do, so I was in a bit of a hurry, I suppose."
 
QUIRBLES

"I beg your pardon?" Emryk replied earnestly, a quizzical look overtaking the sharp crest of his brow-- until it broke into scattered realization, a nervous chuckle forcing itself from his maw as one hand rubbed at the back of his neck. His cheekbones lifted, eyes squinting into a look of mirth as his gaze fell between the shopkeep and the doctor.

"Oh, I-- mercy, that was far from my intention! I merely thought this booth would be perfect for ingredients. Is it-- gah, we haven't much apothecaries on the Isles, I regret to say." Oh, dear. The last thing he wanted to do was compromise the professionality between the two of them; a doctor-patient relationship was a sacred thing, after all, and compromising the trust he'd garnered thus far with such a blatant faux-pas... !

"An apothecary stall, yes, hah. I'll-- have you lead the way, then. Forgive my overzealous hand." Perhaps it was simply the air, or perhaps the fact he'd been eating-- but there was a bit of color to his scales, a lustrous crimson that shone beneath brass like a fire had been holstered within the cheeks. Another nervous chuckle, and he backstepped from the stall, placing a respectful distance between himself and the doctor. Earth below, that was a close encounter. Experienced as he was in romantic blunders, it had been quite some time since another woman had even grouped him together with the idea of courtship-- the Baron preferred to remain betrothed to his responsibilities, and never held much stock in seeking a partner.

"I do sincerely apologize, doctor. The last thing I'd wish upon you is a rendezvous with this old bag of scales, hah-ha!" Emryk wrung his hands, looking out past the crowd. Trying to focus upon something else, in order to change the subject. "Perhaps I'd be better suited elsewhere..."
 
ANNASIEL

A similar color flushed to Emer's cheeks, her skin turning a deep purple as she let out another - somewhat anxious - laugh. Why, it was a simple misunderstanding, yes? It wasn't much a leap to think of plants from herbs, and from there flowers.

And besides - Emer wasn't in the market for such things, so to speak. She hadn't had thoughts of dating in years, and even if she had, well, certainly not with someone she - well -

Well.

He was very kind, and had a delightful sense of humor. That was rare on the ship. Some men had a bit of one, or a bit of the other, but -

His hands were quite gentle too, and his back was -

"Nonsense. Your help is - invaluable."

Emer turned a deeper purple as she rummaged through her coinpurse, passing over the change and hastily stowing the wrapped flowers in her bag. Once her hands were free, she ran them through her hair, tucking any stray strands behind her feathery ears and pressing her fingertips into the back of her neck.

"Ah. Hum. Might I see that?"

She snatched the list, holding it up to her face.

"Keep an eye out for a stall with dried plants, perhaps laid out, perhaps in jars. That will - likely be what we need."
 
QUIRBLES

"Well, I am at your service, of course!" The Baron replied, pushing past the initial discomfort to return to normalcy between the two. Idly, he gave a glance back towards the doctor, brow furrowing at the odd discoloration of her cheeks and nose. Though he suspected it was a blush, Emryk found it better to be safe than sorry-- and, well, a bit of friendly teasing would restore the balance, wouldn't it? The longer the awkward air lingered, the staler touch and talk became. Better to clear it, and allow new life to be breathed in.

"Are you-- quite alright? Does your face usually... do that?" He muttered, gesturing with a pointed claw towards Emer's cheeks. "If you're able to make sense of the list, by all means. Your handwriting is... unique, I should say." Realizing how passively insulting that sounded, the Baron quickly backtracked, hand touching his chin. "Not that-- I didn't mean to insinuate anything negative. I'd-- like to take your hand-- well, try my hand-- handwriting. I'll teach you it. Writing and literacy is an oft-overlooked skill." She certainly had the hands for it, too. Wonderful things-- delicate, hardly a blemish, and precise. Fingertips as soft as the feathers atop her ears. Pleasant things, no doubt, and while the memory of her touch was a wonderful distraction, it was also horrendously uncouth of him to fantasize such desires.

"You'd do well, I think. Good-- hands for it. Find the booth, yet, madame? I mean, how hard is it to find a bit of dried herb, hm? You'd think it'd be easier, from where I stand, but... hmmh." He let the observational comedy die, as it should have, and cleared his throat with a slight cough. "Perhaps we can pluck it fresh, if we don't find the storefront for it. Venture out into the forest, snatch ourselves a few herbs."
 
ANNASIEL

Emer seemed even more embarrassed as the Baron spoke on, her ears twitching, feathers sticking up on end.

"I haven't much time dedicated to it, I'm afraid. I only - only learned to write from Sinead, not many years ago. I wouldn't mind any pointers you may have, though. After all, it takes a day to teach, but a life to learn."

She cleared her throat, settling her composure. Lowering the list as her flush faded, she glanced quickly back at the Baron, gesturing towards a nearby stall piled with dried stalks and leaves.

"That looks like it might have what we need," she murmured. "As much as I'd enjoy a calming walk in the woods, a proper shop has a better chance of providing everything we need."

The owner of the stall was an older woman, an elf, currently sleeping at her stool.
 
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