Closed Pirates of the Hard Nox [archive]

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FANG

A familiar voice accompanied light steps as Caleb approached the stall. Leo glanced at him as he set the hat back on his head, a slightly guilty expression coloring his face as the quartermaster asked after his partial nudity. As he opened his mouth to tell One-Eye of his recent adventure, however, another familiar voice called out, one less amiable that sent a slight chill down Leo’s spine aided by the rapidly cooling evening.

Leo’s response died in his throat as the Container Witch approached, putting pallid face to the sarcastic voice which had only been heard once. In the three days Leo had been on the Hard Nox he had seen that face a handful of times, but only now did he connect her to the incident in the clinic. He gripped his sword cautiously, scanning the young woman for any hint of bottles or jars that might steal away his consciousness.


”The man in the straw hat had the spinster up his sleeve and took my boots.” Leo looked at Caleb guiltily again. He had paid good money for those boots.”He got away before I could catch him and I tried to find him by getting up high. It didn’t work.” This time he glanced at the pale Witch. After telling the story Leo made to reply to the jeweler’s offer.

”I could trade you this feather!” Leo said excitedly as he pulled the fluffy soft feather from his waistband. He would miss it, but this was more important. ”I don’t really have any money, but I would also be willing to work for some of that wire. I can clean and my body is strong.” Leo’s stomach rumbled audibly as if to counter his words. He smiled at the entrepreneurial fairy as he wrapped his free arm around his gut, the other still holding his sword and burdened with Caleb’s bag on his shoulder.
 
DELFI

The fae jeweler was either uninterested or oblivious, and Caleb wasn’t in the mood of dealing with another saleswoman after almost an entire day of shopping. It appeared everyone had decided to gather at her stall, Hester appearing not long after him to accuse her of being a thief. Weren’t they all thieves?

Caleb let out a sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose before reaching for the strap of his bag, taking it away from Leo’s hands before it shared a similar fate to his shoewear. All the talk of cannons, robbery and boots was anything but of any interest to the quartermaster, but now that Hester was there, he figured he could try and fish for more information.

“Their name is Mal. Mal, Hetty. Can I call you Hetty?” He asked, turning his charming smile filled with second intentions to the necromancer. A different kind of second intentions, after their first and most recent encounter.
 
PAPERWORK

This was getting obnoxiously complicated. Hester's eyes skipped between each person as they spoke, trying to keep track of their words. The bottle-warrior--she didn't know his name either--had been cheated, the jeweler was lying and making a sales pitch at the same time, and the quartermaster was calling her Hetty. She let her eyes settle on him first.

"Thank you. Mal. Got it. I'd rather you call me almost anything else. By my name, ideally." Hester didn't like the way the faerie was looking at her. He clearly wanted something, and she couldn't figure out what it was. Especially not under these circumstances. For now, it was easier to just turn her attention back to the jeweler. One problem at a time.

"You've no idea what I'm talking about? Never seen a small, round bird, covered in--feathers--" obviously, what else would it be covered in, "--likely with a small hole or dent in its side? One that was headed your way, last I saw it? Don't suppose you could point out someone else I could ask about them, then?" She caught herself tapping her foot; she put an end to that by clasping her hands in front of her. "Hard to imagine there's more than one artisan around here with the skill to pull off something like that hand. Or that cannon."
 
REYN

"You'll get it back, just not in one piece." They said, sliding a few coins across the counter, "I assume you'd know how to put it back together, yes? So this shouldn't be a problem?"

They laughed.

"I won't be selling them, so you don't need to worry about giving away trade secrets. I'm just looking for... quality. I need quality. I'd appreciate if you could get me in contact with your supplier- do they do larger-scale parts? The thing I'm working on isn't quite as intricate as this; it would be a pain trying to scale up the mechanism with gears this small..."

That, and it would be uglier. A lot uglier. Mal's designs never were built for looks; not even their own body, really. Which meant the mistake, the insult was as cutting as it was expected.

"Creature, hm?" Mal sighed, "Would you rather I call you corpse?"

Their arms remained folded. They were going to question this 'Hetty', to ask her about the necromancy, about Pris, but this wasn't the place to do it. They were in public, at a stall, by a fairy. It would have to wait.
 
UMBRASIGHT

Nessa’s grin widened as Juniper jumped in her seat, but the girl was kind enough not to laugh. Though, how much that mattered as a triumphant sparkle lit up her amber eyes was not hers to decide. Still, her smile didn’t linger long once she caught the eye of the waitress waiting to take the table’s order, and she glanced away as she slid neatly into the chair Alys had offered.

“Mm, doubt they have much to my liking, but the char on the meat skewers a table over smells nice, if you’re into that.” She said, looking back over her shoulder. Woodsmoke, she thought, didn't smell like charcoal at least. “As far as drinks, some rum with lime wouldn’t be bad, but you’re the ones getting a bite.” A flash of teeth as she looked back at her companions.

“Depends on how fast you wish to get drunk, anyway.”
 
ILLIRICA

Crow promised he would behave. "How disappointing."

The way he kissed her knuckles, though, implied that he might be at least a little bit a liar. Sinéad gave him a raised eyebrow, but let him pull her into the dance nonetheless. She rather liked dancing. There were enough different variations on it that it didn't feel like something she had once done, merely something that people did. She liked the physicality, the closeness, the ability to lose herself in her surroundings. It was a bit like fighting. Or fucking. Or a little bit of both, perhaps at the same time.

Not that she didn't have a fair bit of experience with that, either.

"We don't raid Allegria," she answered the inquiry. "As one of my crew once delightfully put it, 'you don't shit in your playground.' It's good for everyone to have somewhere they can relax and enjoy themselves, and the townspeople understand the unspoken accord well enough. They're happy enough with our coin."
 
GOLDEN

Once the trio was all settled in, the slightly overwhelmed barmaid, who was impressively carrying a stack of empty plates nearly a foot high, took their orders and wandered off into the tavern. The bottle of rum came first, paired with three stacked glasses and a plate of lime slices. While Juniper and Alys waited for their meals, the faerie popped the cork and poured a shot into each of the three glasses, sliding them across the table to her companions. "I wouldn't mind a little taster before the food gets here..." She murmured, lifting her glass slightly into the air. "Cheers to good baths and even better company."
 
HIGHVOLTAGE

The vampire had completed his most important purchase, that of a new blade. A chuckle rippled through his throat as he left, the terror-stricken blacksmith delightfully etched into his mind. Lucien strode back to the ship, blade firmly in hand. Most of his crewmates were celebrating the festival further into the city, so he did not run into many as he made his way back to his cabin. Unfortunately he would probably run into them later that night. He wondered how much lower their opinion of him would sink if they saw him hunting.

A small rucksack was packed, only the essentials: spare clothing, a few bottles of his stronger concoctions, and of course, the necessary supplies. When he started the process had been messy, unrefined. He had left rooms looking like murder scenes. Not that they were to the contrary, but so much precious liquid had been lost. Over time, with some help from Mal oddly enough, he had refined the process. Lucien left his cabin, slipping back off the ship and into town.

After a quick detour to the bath house, the sun was dipping low, the crowd was rowdier, and Lucien was on the prowl. While he had enjoyed the scouring burn of the bath, he was less than thrilled about the warm, vaguely citrusy scent that lingered around him. He slipped through the night like a blade through the heart, dark clothes aiding in his unseen patrol. Dark pants, dark boots, and a black silken shirt, delicately traced with silver filigree, an slit opening to the base of his sternum, letting his pale skin glint like the moon peeking behind a cloud.

The music was good, if Lucien had cared. Music was not to his taste, most notes crashing against his ears. He found a table, ordering a bottle of something dark and strong, along with a glass. Not that he intended to drink from it. He pulled one of his own bottles out, unstopping it and filling his glass with the rich crimson liquid. One of his better creations, certainly. His eyes scanned the assembled, waiting, watching, looking for something. Or someone.
 
DELFI

Crow laughed at Sinead’s explanation as to why they wouldn’t raid the town. It was a good motive, though he suspected there was more to it than that. The Nox was quite famous for their path of destruction, but not even they would dare to raid one of the largest cities in the world. Such a feat would definitely put a giant target on their back, and despite being undoubtedly brave, Sinead wasn’t stupid. Or at least that was the impression he got from her.

“Coin is the way to a man’s heart. Even if they’re just pennies.” The mercenary spoke quietly, his hand sliding down to her lower back while they slow danced.
 
SHODDYPRODUCT

They couldn't lie, Nessa's idea was enticing. Fresh cooked meat was something that was not quite as common aboard the ship, and while not typically part of their diet, Juniper was in the mood for it tonight. They placed their order alongside the other two, and contentedly listened to the music until drinks arrived. As Alys popped the cork, the changeling felt a sudden anxiety, an odd sort of dread, all emanating from the bottle. The feeling shifted to the shot glass as the faerie poured it, and their hand held it tentatively as Alys gave a cheer. They hung on the edge for a moment, before reminding their self that they were here to enjoy their night. If things started getting out of control, they were sure their friends would stop them before things got too bad. "Cheers," they said, raising their glass to meet Alys', before bringing it to their lips.

It wasn't much longer before the food arrived. Juniper eagerly reached for a serving, already feeling looser after a shot. They weren't throwing caution to the wind, not yet, but they were also painfully aware that the quality of their meals had declined lately, between a brief imprisonment and the death of their chef. As they began to eat, the sorceress looked to the others, and gave a smile between bites. "How has the stop been for you two? Allegria is so charming, I've always enjoyed our brief stays."
 
UMBRASIGHT

“Cheers, cheers” Nessa said, tapping the side of her glass against the other two, before bringing it to her lips and making the liquid disappear. The lime had a good tang, and the rum a nice burn, with a not quite burned sugar aftertaste, which was nice even if it was a little dull, but she wanted to save the blood mead for a little later in the night so this was fine enough. The food arrived not much longer and Juniper was quick to tuck in as Nessa poured herself another finger or three and added a fresh lime.

“Been good, nice to finally wash my hair some, might be worth dropping by again on our last day just to feel fresh a little longer.” she said, tipping the glass back. “Stalls are cute though, but the prices.” she waved her hand through the air.

“Be a fool not to haggle some.”
 
GOLDEN

The night air got cooler, but it didn't bother the trio, not when the warming sensation of good food, conversation, and above all else, the effects of the rum flowed through their veins. The music seemed to get louder, as did the people who, like them, ate and drank their fill before joining the gathering crowd of happy dancers.

A little while after the plates were cleared, leaving a nearly empty bottle of rum and three used glasses, the trio were approached to dance. Alys snuck a glance at Juniper and Nessa, a mischievous grin on her face, cheeks rosy - and not from the proposition. She reached to take the hand outstretched towards her.

---

Meanwhile, the leader of the group, a lanky faerie with bright red hair, emerald green eyes, and wings the colour of burgundy wine, offered his hand to Juniper, a lazy smile resting on his face. "Care to dance with me?"
 
ILLIRICA

"I'm hardly interested in anyone's heart," Sinéad informed the mage. When she had been younger, she had loved easily and often and always. Now? It hadn't been age that had brought bitterness, but bitterness had come nonetheless, and her desire for hearts, at least, had waned. Not waned, she supposed, so much as a sudden cessation. Waning implied a slow decline, something that might have been gentle. For her it had been swift and short and sharp, more akin to the cut of a knife.

Or a scythe.

She put the thought behind her, where it always was, and pressed in closer, finding herself in being lost in the here and now. "But if you're interested in something else... well, it's good to know you can be cheaply bought."
 
DELFI

Hester didn't seem in the mood to talk - to him anyway. She cut him off quite quickly, turning her attention back to the jeweler with a talk of birds. Before the quartermaster got a chance to ask what that was about, someone he didn't quite get a glimpse of bumped against him, shouting something about fireworks. He stumbled against the fairy's booth, getting a glimpse of the two creatures curled up on her lap. Not creatures. Machines.

"Fascinating." He muttered. From a distance they could probably be mistaken for birds, but from up close Caleb could see some of the engines under the yellow one's wings. "How much for one of these?"


***

'The way to a man's heart', the kind of bullshit the mage would say to get a gorgeous woman on his bed. Sinead's suggestion caught him off guard, his lips parted as he searched for the right words to say when a loud noise similar to a gunshot overlapped his words, followed by more of it.

It wasn't gunshots. Crow looked up to see the spectacular firework show that painted the skies above allegria. He admired it for a few seconds before looking down at Sinead, and seeing it reflected in her eyes. He figured there were better things he could be doing than worrying about words, and leaned in to kiss her lips.
 
SHODDYPRODUCT

As the night drew on, and as Juniper got deeper into their cups, the night began to take on a very different feel. The relaxation became more natural, as their mind became frankly incapable of thinking on the sources of stress in their life that had been so central the last week. Their face lit up in an easygoing smile, as a pink-red tint came to their cheeks. The next little while, as they ate, was filled with laughter and conversation, only interrupted once someone- Juniper was just a little too tipsy to notice- came offering Alys a dance, and with friends as well. One of those friends approached the changeling, offering a hand as they lazily looked up to meet his eyes.

Oh. Those were a very nice color.

Their eyes darted back to Alys and Nessa, their look matching the faeries, and also containing a question: Should I? Unfortunately, they didn't wait for a response, instead taking his hand as their gaze turned back. His eyes and hair complimented each other nicely, and the sorceress found it a hard task to take their eyes away from his. "I would love to, actually," they said as they stood. As they walked with him, a question came forth. "What's your name?"

---------------------

"Pardon the intrusion, ma'am, I just couldn't help but come and tell you just how stunning your wings are in this light. Would you like to dance, perhaps?"

His voice was smooth and relaxed, eyes trained on Alys. He was a well built young man, maybe a soldier or town guard by the look of him. Chestnut brown hair sat atop his head, cut short, and his eyes were a deep blue. He was holding a hand out to the woman, the other tucked behind his back. As the woman took his hand, he led her closer to the music, through the crowd. As they began to step in time with the music, the fireworks began.
 
ANNASIEL

She had been nearly asleep, chin falling to hit her chest when the first explosion sounded. Jolting up, she grabbed at the beaded curtain - were they under attack? Through the gap, her eyes shot to a patch of fresh wood in the wall, the only sign of the cannonball that had struck through her clinic just three days prior.

Another explosion, and her heart settled. Fireworks. Just fireworks. She could see the colors flickering in the windows. It was a rare thing, rarer still for her.

Tightening her grip on her shawl, she pushed out of the clinic onto the main deck, light night breeze ruffling hair and feather alike. Her eyes moved skyward, quiet, taking in the moment with a sense of gentle awe.
 
GOLDEN

The man guided Alys through the crowd, towards the music, his warm hand enveloping her smaller one. Soon enough, the other would find her waist, drawing her closer to him. Her hand found his shoulder - a broad shoulder - and she let him lead her to the steady beat of the music. When she first learned how to dance, many years ago now, she'd realized that following was much harder than leading. Perhaps it was because her teachers had been men; and men were typically expected to lead and guide their dance partners. That, or her first couple of dance partners had no idea what they were doing, making it necessary for her to step in. Now, although the instinct was there, albeit washed down by her tipsy state, it was easier to ignore. Not a moment after their dance began, a loud boom filled the air. Alys looked up, watching bright streaks of colour explode in the night sky. She tilted her head back and laughed, simultaneously allowing herself to be swept forward by her partner. Her eyes found his and she smiled at him. "I've been told I have pretty wings..." she said coyly, referring to his earlier comment. "As I'm sure you've been told you have pretty eyes." Blue, like hers, but darker, much darker. Like the twilight sky or the depths of the ocean. She had to be careful, else she'd get lost in those eyes tonight.

---

Like his friend, the red-haired man was young, likely in his early twenties. He beamed at Juniper and their acceptance, and led them through the crowd until he found a suitable location closer to the stage. His other hand found their waist, drawing them in as he began to move them to the beat. Leaning down, closer to their decorated ear, he replied, "I'm Connell. And you are?"

Although not the best dancer, Connell certainly wasn't the worst either. He'd been told it had something to do with his long limbs, but he made up for it with the natural grace commonly seen among fae. Tonight, that genetic poise seemed to outweigh the clumsiness. "Are you enjoying your time in Allegria?"
 
GHOSTLY

Typically Ciarán would make the most out of time ashore, but not this time. This time while the majority of the crew was ashore spending their pay, shopping and taking a break from work, Ciarán busied himself with his own projects. He took some time to clean the bore of his cannon and pistols, adjust the ligaments of his arm, and whittle some on the wooden aspects of the arm he intended to wear for ceremonial purposes - an engraving of his last ship, Our Lady Tempest rolling through the clouds flying her colors proud.

Sometimes she missed her. Today was one such day.

He wouldn't let his sorrow ruin their shore leave. He took some time above deck to exercise, using cannonballs for the various pounders aboard as weights as he went through his routine. A couple of the crew joined for a spell or two, his fresh faced sailors looking to bond with their ol' gunny. He loved the company.

After the workout and a quick clean up, he dressed less professionally with his casual arm (sans cannon or means to hold a sword, his right would suffice if a fight did happen) but still rather handsomely. They wouldn’t stay forever, so he would use what time they had left to walk Allegria. He would see what, if anything, would catch him.
 
SHODDYPRODUCT

Alys' dance partner let out a small chuckle as she spoke, pulling her in to a quick spin as a yellow flash filled the air, lighting them both from above as he brought her back to face him once more. "Yeah, I think I may have heard that one before," he said coolly, using the arm around the fae's waist to pull her in a bit closer. In a smooth motion, he leaned over, towards her ear, and spoke a bit quieter. "I wonder if anyone's ever told you that you have a lovely laugh before, though?"

---------------

Lie

With a wide smile, and half a giggle, Juniper responded to Connell's request. "My name's Maddie." It came easily to them, natural. Something felt off about telling him who they were, and so, for the time spent with him, they wouldn't be Juniper. "And yes, I've enjoyed it quite a bit... How'd you know I wasn't from around here?" they inquired, as they followed along in his steps. It had been so long since they had danced, it took a moment to get back into the steps, but he seemed capable enough that eventually, they found the rhythm.

The changelings heart was racing, though they could hardly notice it through the booming of the fireworks overhead. Keenly aware of the hand on their waist, and more so of the verdant gaze on them, they found their thoughts strangely quiet, instead very much focused on the way the fireworks reflected off his eyes, or the way his hair-

'Hm. Maybe I did drink enough.'
 
DELFI

She couldn't believe her eyes. It was highly unlikely, if not impossible that the same pirate she'd let escape would be in Allegria of all places. It was too much of a coincidence. Or perhaps it was fate.

He looked different outside the battlefield, but so did Beck. Her chestnut brown hair was loose, she wore a muted pink dress and her bow and arrows had been left at the inn. Being a girl with boringly average looks, she believed herself to be completely unrecognizable. Perhaps that was the reason she didn't try too hard to pretend she wasn't staring.
 
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