Welcome Aboard Ye Landlubbers! [OPEN]

[zozee9]

Sky's head snapped down when she heard the eared-man's voice. She had immediately known that he was talking to her, even though he called her "whelp", which wasn't exactly what her usual nickname was. But the fact that he was waving her over helped to make her confident that it was she that he was calling to.

Since the very first moment Sky met him, she had a fascination with the dog-man. He was unlike anyone she had ever met. And it seemed to Sky that that still hadn't changed. After all, nobody had ever randomly called her over to give her anything. In fact, the only time people gave her things other than work was when she was putting up a sympathy show.

She was suspicious that it might have been some sort of trick—perhaps he was trying to poison her or just wanted to see a look of utter disappointment on her face—but Sky was willing to take that risk. Not only did she figure she'd be able to figure her way out of something like that, she also had some trust in the man. He was one of the few people on the ship who treated her well.

So with her eyes opened wide and her face full of eagerness, Sky quickly ran to the eared-man. "What 'tisit?" Sky asked, slurring her words not because she was at all drunk (which she wasn't), but because she wasn't used to talking properly. "What d'ya have?"

[NightWind]

   Vladimir pulled the needle through his project a few more times before biting off the thread and knotting it securely. "I wouldn't wipe me arse with them rags you wear. They ain't fit fer buryin' a dead dog and they damn sure ain't fit fer wearin'." He grunted, pushing himself to his feet. "Here," he said shortly, tossing the cabin boy the thing he'd been working on- new clothes.
   They were cut from his cloak, which he no longer wore. The loose-fitting tunic and trousers were travel-stained and, admittedly, not the most spectacular garment ever to clothe a human being, but he had washed it beforehand it was was worlds cleaner than what the boy wore already. "Put them on. I 'uhnno they'll fit you jes' right, but it should be close 'nough." He shrugged. Vladimir could remember all too well that, in a time before he could provide for himself, he had to make do with only what he could find. He figured the boy should at least have something to wear. "Yer makin' people sick, dressed like 'at."
   The clothes were loose-fitting, designed for life on board a ship. The sleeveless tunic would breathe well and was easy to move in, but not so loose as to be a hindrance on a busy ship, and was belted with a narrow strip of cloth, with places to hang a dagger or other tools. The leggings were similarly designed, coming up just a bit high (if his estimated measurements were right) around the ankles so as not to get bogged down with water and they laced up at the front. They were forest green, roughly sewed by a hand that spoke of practiced competence, if not any particular beauty.
   "There's a spot thar what to hang yer knife on." He told her, pointing. "So's you can get t' it in a hurry." He continued, fishing about his person for a small bottle of rum he had got his hands on. Uncorking it, he took a long swig and belched loudly. "Well, there ye go." Vladimir said lamely, shrugging and taking another drink.

[Winters-Feather]

The pirate's eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light, shapes become sharper. He narrowed his eyes at her jab.
Well, she is here, he confirmed  with a small sigh as his eyes trailed over to her room.  His eyes barely made out the curtain, though he imagined her scowl. Sometimes it amazed him how much of a foul mood she could be in. Women.
"A proper 'hello' would have suited," he calmly replied, though wisely decided not to say anything else. Morgan clearly didn't sound like she was in a trifling mood, whatever the case may be, and the pirate didn't wish to further cross her. Especially if she was drunk.

His shoes made dull clank noises as he stepped across the floorboards, the wood once in a while creaking. Chris could feel the ship gently sway under his feet, down below. He carefully carried over the mugs as he knocked on the wood by the curtain, indicating his presence.
"Pardon for intruding," Chris said,  as he cautiously pulled back the curtain.
He gave her a nod of greeting, his brow furrowing slightly. It didn't appear she had any alcohol about her, though looks were deceiving.
She probably hid something, he thought, his eyes causally scanning her room.
A smirk tugged at the rightmost corner of his lips at the sight of the stems in the chest.

"Care for some ale?" Chris asked, displaying the mugs in his hands. Just by the looks of her, the pirate could tell something was off about the first mate, though he dared not pry, yet.

[GoblinFae]

Morgan rolled her eyes and grunted. Chris was right as she was in no mood for witty banter. She raised her arms overhead, ignoring the second mate's presence while she stretched, wincing slightly has shoulders popped before letting them fall dully at her sides.

While she did not uncurl from her compact position she did silently extend one arm, open-handed in a demand for the mug. Who was she to deny a free drink? It just meant she could get more drunk later without as much of the effort to procure more alcohol.

As an afterthought she waved him towards the end of the bed, inviting him to stay if he so desired, although part of her hoped he would leave so that she could finish the bottle currently pressing sharply against her hip. The other part feared being left alone to more dark musings and cursing at the captain's absence.

"Is that all?" she questioned hoarsely, not entirely sure herself if she was referring to the offering or to his reason for coming.

[zozee9]

Sky's mouth opened up wide as the eared-man tossed her new clothes. She had been wearing the same thing for years now, turning them into just a handful of rags that barely even fit her. From the second she had gotten on the ship, Sky was hoping for new clothes. And now this kind man, who she hadn't even asked, gave her some out of the blue.

This was one of those moments that Sky was truly glad her body hadn't started maturing yet. She wanted to change as quickly as possible and didn't even want to waste time to find a room to change in. Also, Sky figured that as a 'man' she should be proud and not feel the need to change secretly. Even though the clothes he handed Sky weren't quite like the ones she saw even commoners wearing, she regarded them as clothes for the royal. She took no offense to anything the eared-man said, partially because of the kindness he displayed her and partially because she had heard much worse.

Pulling off her 'shirt', Sky started talking. "Thank you s'much for these!" she started, trying to talk like she wasn't from the streets. But her lack of experience and fact that she was so excited she was talking super quickly made that hard. "I really needed new clothes." Her shirt fully off, Sky pulled the tunic over her head. It was a perfect fit. "I wasn't 'specting to get any, though, 'cause of... Morgan? She seemed awf'ly mean." She fixed the belt so it fit perfectly. "'Scuse me, though, I'm 'fraid I ne'er got your name. Mine's Sky." After a brief pause, she also added, "I'm also 'fraid I don't have a knife. I s'pose I should get one. And when I do, I'll put it in the belt right away!" Sky paused and smiled before continuing her changing.

The tunic was long enough that Sky felt she could pull of her sad excuse for pants without exposing her... lack of masculine parts. After doing so, she put on the tights as quickly as she could, as was quite happy with how they fit. Once again, Sky looked up at the tailed-man and smiled the biggest smile she could manage—but for once, it was genuine.

[Zane]

Hans Recalled now, his first time drinking rum, while looking at the bottle in his hands. It had been after a naval battle way out to sea, many lives were lost, just blood everywhere. It was then when he realized why people called a ship part family, for the blood that runs in their veins, runs through the ships rigging, in her craftsmanship. His father had been trying to calm him down, as it was his first time seeing carnage on such a magnitude, so his father gave him rum. Looking back knowing what he does now, his father should have given him scotch. it would have worked better.

Setting the bottle he was drinking aside, he began to look about the crew. Spotting something in particular. The young boy, the one that he had healed earlier, was changing clothes. Hans didn't really know why his gaze stayed on the boy's back, but he did, and he learned a thing or two because of it. The boy was beginning to show signs of acute malnourishment. Probably, because of what his clothes suggested, he lived on the streets. The other thing Hans learned, is that this boy was actually a girl. Her back gave it away, The angle of her shoulder blades, the curve of her back. Though her body had not begun to take shape, Hans was about ninety-five percent sure, that the cabin boy was indeed a female.

[Winters-Feather]

Chris noted that Morgan was behaving rather oddly, even for her drunk self. She sat rigidly against the wall, and her responses more pronounced than usual, though somehow dulled. He sat down by the edge of the bed and took a slow swing from his mug.
   "I was going to ask about matters regarding our course of actions in the morning," he asked. "But now's a bad time, I see. "
Chris frowned. That was a bit daft of him to point out. Of course it was a bad time, she was drunk!  No, there was something else. Something about Morgan told Chris that something was irking her, and that annoyed him. He was the second mate, after all. If there was something wrong that could lead their crew in danger, it was his duty to know!  But what? Chris tried to figure it out in his mind as he drained the rest of his mug, but nothing came to mind. It was an itch he could not be rid of.
          Something is wrong, I just don't know what.
   "I could ask the Captain about matters in the morning," he said, solemnly looking at his empty mug. Chris turned towards Morgan with a questioning glance in his eye.
   "Do you want me to fetch you another?" he asked, quietly.
   

[GoblinFae]

A scowl creased her brows at the mention of the captain. Dark eyes became even stormier as Morgan huffed in disgust and waved a hand in Chris' direction. "Sit," she growled. "He's not here and I am."

The offer of another drink sounded incredibly tempting and truthfully she did desire another. However, it was not in her best interest at the moment to become so intoxicated. In her experience, Morgan found that new crews tended to clash with old members on the last night in port and the first day that monotony set in. Later she could drink in private without her fellow officer's judging eyes counting each bottle and barrel she consumed.

"Discuss!" the quartermaster barked irritably.

[Winters-Feather]

"That rather concerns me," Chris replied  to Morgan's remark about the missing captain in a dull fashion, but he never the less sat down.
"I want to know our route, first and foremost," he said, matter of factly. "Also, I'm very interested in how we managed to get crew that are not officially listed. I will not-"
Chris stopped himself. His voice was raising just a little, and he did not want to test Morgan. He sighed.
"Stowaways and those who slipped through regulation could put us in a position I do not wish to be in," Chris continued quietly. He bit his tongue as he grumbled to himself.

He was going nowhere with this. Blast, but why did he have to be such a coward?! Chris took in a breath as he turned to face Morgan. He looked at her square in the eye with his good one.
"There is one more thing," he said, his tone almost gentle. "Morgan, whats wrong? Be true, please."
Chris coughed and grimaced, as if those words were uncomfortable for his tongue to say, and perhaps they were.

[NightWind]

   He thought it was funny, when Sky said "She seemed awf'ly mean". Vladimir  snickered into his bottle- which resulted in an explosive coughing fit, apparently, rum would not go down while laughter was coming up. It was because of this choking, gasping mess that the waft of unmistakably feminine nethers went unnoticed by his sharp nose.
   "Vladimir." He wheezed, trying to catch his breath. "You-" He stopped and cleared his throat. "Wot, ye don't even have a knife? How d'you expect to get by? Knife's a right important tool, whelp. 'Ere," he continued, taking a knife in a well-formed sheath from his vest. The knife was about five and a half inches long, single-edged, slightly curved and good Damascus steel, with a razor edge. He had won it in a knife game. "Now run on 'long lad, no more handouts today." He said, tossing the knife to the cabin boy.

[zozee9]

Sky was worried when Vladimir started coughing, but he recovered before she could even do anything. Vladimir, she thought. That's a great name... sounds fierce. Sky's name, of course, was not a mean sounding name, but she always liked it. The sky had always reminded her of hope and unlimited potential. He continued talking, and she couldn't help but agree with everything he said. But she didn't have enough money for a knife and the best she could ever find in the streets were thrown out dulled knives from restaurants. Those might have been a little useful for threatening on the streets, but she knew they'd be pointless on a pirate ship.

When Vladimir pulled out a knife, Sky thought he was showing off his. Maybe showing her what kind she should buy. It was a nice knife, she suspected, since it looked sharp and had a good curve to it. She gazed at it in awe, wondering where he got it from. Surely it must have been a top notch weapon store or maybe even from some other pirate shop. So when Vladimir tossed the knife her way, Sky was completely and utterly startled.

But even with the surprise, Sky caught the knife perfectly. She might not have been the best fighter on the streets (at all), but her hand eye coordination was superb. The knife was a little heavier than she suspected, probably because it was steel, but it was still light. However, Sky was not planning on accepting so much charity from one person, no matter how much she wanted to. So she returned her eyes back to Vladimir and was just about to tell him that she could buy her own, but then she saw how he was standing and his expression and she finally processed the last words he had said. She knew that he actually wanted her to keep it and probably wasn't willing to take it back.

Sky immediately straightened up, trying to act a little more dignified, and put the knife in the belt. She put her arms to her side and bowed down so that her chest was near parallel to the ground. It was something she always did when she was extremely grateful to somebody, whether they had helped her escape street thugs or forgave her from stealing from their booth. "Thank you, Vladimir!" Sky said earnestly before standing up straight again. She looked into his eyes, smiled widely once more, and then turned around and ran off like he told her to.

[Zane]

Jack stood perched atop the rigging, just below the crows nest, readying a length of rope. He had spent most of the day studying new, fancy rigging style. He recognized it as a Linemen's set up, called such because on vastly larger ships. The men who tended the lines that raised and lowered the sails were called the line men. Jack was familiar with the set up, it was used on the Kronus Day after they captured a Ship-of-the-Line and named it the new Kronus, sinking the Brig-of-War they had been using. But the set up here was vastly improved from the rigging the Kronus had. There was no way that Chris had come up with it himself. He would have to pester the Kitty about it later.

Tonight was the first night with a new crew, bunch of bow legged green horns is what they were. And there were already whispers among the older crew that one of the newbies might be a Jonah. Superstitious saps. So what do you do to a new crew? You give them something to be inspired by. Jack had plans to do just that. Fastening one end of the rope the mast he then brought the torch out from under his arm and struck it alight using a flint stone and the side of his axe. Since the dockhands of the port were putting out the lanterns around the occupied parts of the docks, by law, the ships had to light their own lanterns. So jack had a little show planned.

Taking a firm grasp of the rope in one hand and the torch in the other, he ran along the sail mast and lept from the edge like a mad man. But there was ample cause to his madness. His angle was very calculated, perfected with vast and numerous practice. The rope snapped tight and he swing towards the first lantern. With precision he stuck the torch to the oiled wick bringing it alight. He shifted his weight to the Sid to swing in a wide arch toward the next lamp. Lighting it and continuing onto the next. In less then a minute all fourteen lamps on the deck were lit and sung back around to the deck, landing with a roll before popping back up to his feet. Grabbing up two mugs of rum, he went below deck. They were both for him. He had a bit of a drinking habit but he didn't see why he couldn't share. So he made his way through the crew quarters to the quartermaster's room. Knocking lightly on the door.

"Ms. Loone? Would you like some rum? It comes Aubrey Approved."

[Dreamwolf]

Cane watched the display and shook his head. It was probably meant to inspire or impress the new crew, but in the end it was just a bunch of showing off with considerable risk. One wrong move could spill burning oil to the deck or result in a broken neck. It wasn't that the show wasn't impressive, it was, but it was also unnecessary risk, which on a ship was something he'd always associated with temped fate a little too much. The young man stood after the display still shaking his head as a few of the newer members of the crew oohed and aahed.

Cane grabbed a mug of ale from one swaying crew-member who'd put down a few too many. "Easy friend, you keep this up and you'll drown in grog." He settled the drunken man to the deck, propping his head up and making sure he was laying on his side, in case he vomited. Didn't want anyone drowning in their own spew, that was bad luck on any vessel.

[GoblinFae]

"Cateye if you have questions about our course you ask them of Elias. You know that is not my job but his. As for stowaways there's always bound to be one or two. It is not the end of the world so long as they work hard."

Morgan smiled softly, caught in a memory. She too had been a stowaway long ago aboard her own ship. Despite appearance she did have a soft spot for them, that also meant she was twice as hard on them. She would always look out for them. But in turn she would always expect them to work their hardest. They had to prove themselves and not laze about as they had more to prove than those who were full-grown. A man had made a name for himself, a child still had to learn to grow up.

"If that is all you can go," she declared, raising the empty mug to her lips as she had forgotten that she had already drained it dry moments before. She was glad for her mistake though when she heard Chris' hesitant question. The mug at least delayed her having to answer right away.

Yet, the true saving grace was the sound of a familiar voice coming from the other side of her door. "Ah Aubrey," she cried, a wide smile, lighting up her face though she felt no mirth, only relief at the interruption that would force her to not answer Chris' worried question.

"Drink is always welcome here Aubrey, as is any male company that comes along with it," she jested raising her mug to the door. "Come join Cateye and I. I'm sure we can have fun of some sort of another together."

[Winters-Feather]

Chris just stared at the boards on the walls. "Ask Elias" indeed. And that dismissal... Chris pressed his lips together. Of course that wasn't all, he wanted to protest. Clearly something was amiss, but what he couldn't tell because then the blasted door was knocked. The pirate's gaze could have pierced a man's heart as he glared at the door. As Morgan made no attempt to get up, Chris decided to be polite and open it.

"Hello, Jack," he said, greeting his companion stiffly.
In truth he liked Jack very much, though the man's timing was unfortunate. The offering of alcohol in Jack's hands did nothing to improve his mood.
"I see there is none for me," he said dryly. Though there was a hint of judgement in his expression, his voice and gesture carried a hint of playfulness.
Chris stepped aside to allow the man in. He humphed at Morgan's "fun." Clearly whatever he wanted to ask her would have to wait until the next day.
"How do you like the new recruits?" he asked as he shut the door, ever so formal.

[Zane]

Jack's smile widened as the Quartermaster allowed him entry to her quarters, only to have his smile straighten out as she confirmed an unfortunate scenario, the Second Mate was in there with her. His chest expanded with dishevel which then quickly became level as he sighed, accompanied but an inaudible whisper of something profane. Perhaps two somethings. A smile found it's way back on his lips as the door opened before him. Best not to let his two superiors and friends know of his true intentions.

Aubrey met Chris's gaze, unflinching as the Mate was glancing daggers. "If you really thing these two mugs are all I have on my person than we need to hang out more as you clearly don't know me." Balancing one mug of rum atop the other with practiced grace, Aubrey pulled a flask from his inside pant pocket. it were a glass flask wrapped in leather and had what appeared to be tribal markings across the skin of the leather. "Got it when we last made port in Thanatos, just add water and within the hour it is a mighty strong spirit. Careful friend sometimes the nice sprite could just end up being quite the scary monster." He passed the flask to Chris with a warning, "Just don't tell Ialu about it, he had been eyeing it but had to go get a supply of shot for the cannons. Lets just say I got to it before he could get back." He passed a mug of the rum to Morgan then took a sip of the other that he had brought for himself.

Sure, he had that flask which offered him a near endless supply of amazing alcohol, but Aubrey like variety. Plus Rum just makes you feel good. Taking a look at Morgan, his smile actually felt genuine. He had a thing for her, which obvious to many of the crew. But the question was, did she have a thing for him? for anyone? One could never tell with the Quartermaster. "Morgan, you've been scowling too hard today, there are creases in your forehead and is that a bruise on yer palm there? Guess it was a good thing that your sword can't be strangled to death. Maybe you should go see the new Doctor, or on second thought drink up. The bruise should go away in a few days."

Jack was well aware of the events of the day, and was mainly just teasing Morgan, which for anyone, is rather much akin to pissing on a thunder elemental, that is to say, probably not the best of ideas. But they were in the privacy of her cabin, Jack would never dare joke like that in broad daylight in front of the eyes of the crew. It were two entirely different matter.

"Speaking of the new crew, the doctor in particular. Some of the older crew think that there may be a Jonah among them. Some of the men noticed that the capt'n has yet to return and they think it's an omen, that an word came that the Argus approaches from the south. Should be making land at port here by midafternoon. I should suggest we leave by midmorning. That is not to say that I'm expecting a battle. The Capt'n of the Argus is a patz, it's the moral of the crew I'm worried about. especially with so many greenhorns about. The Argus is a warship after all."

[zozee9]

Sky watched as awe as some man swung around on a rope. He lit a bunch of lanterns, as if he were an angel giving life to cold hearted things. He looked like he was flying... though she was pretty sure he wasn't. Then again, magic could do strange things. Flying, Sky decided, would be a cool trick to learn—magic or not. And maybe he could teach her how to do that. With her eyes wide, she decided that would be her new goal for now. To get him to teach her. So when he got from the sky, she quickly scurried to follow him.

But then, when she was still twenty feet away from him, he entered a room.

The door closed and she wondered if she should still follow him. Glancing around, she walked up to the door. After all, she had nothing better to do, So Sky opened the door wide and walked right in before noticing what seemed to be an intense and important mood. While the flying guy might be in the room, so were the scary girl and the strange guy who gave the scary girl flowers.

Not knowing what else to do, Sky just stood there with a wide, innocent, and goofy grin on her face. She always used that look when she got into trouble (unless she thought tears would work better) but, given the people in this room, she doubted it would do her much good.

[GoblinFae]

Morgan looked from mug to flask and back again with jealousy. Grudgingly she accepted the rum from Jack but her eyes still glared Chris down with a desire for what he clutched within his hands. "Since when does superior officer of the room get the lesser of two choices, Aubrey? Are you trying to say something here," she asked with raised brow and gruff tone.

The act became much more than that though the moment the day's events had been mentioned. Her brows furrowed more and she rubbed absentmindedly at any wrinkles that could be forming. "You watch your tongue boy or I'll see about strangling you. I want no mention of that confounded quack in my quarters, you hear?"

She huffed, draining her mug in a matter of seconds, emphasizing her distaste. "To hell with the Argus! They ain't anything we can't handle. As for the greenies they could do with a bit of shaking up. I don't want any cocky bastards aboard this ship." Morgan lowered her voice, eying Jack from the corner of her eye, "have enough of those already.

"You know the captain anyway he likes to make a," she was cut off by the sound of her door opening and a petite figure entering, "entrance."

Angered at the intrusion and further infuriated by the mischievous grinning of the stowaway. Morgan was shakily on her feet in the slow, prowling manner of newborn cat. Her hidden bottle of alcohol forgotten and hands reached out to grip the wall, the quartermaster glared down the pipsqueak.

"Are you on fire? Is someone trying to kill you? Are you bleeding out of your eyes? No? Then what the devil's gotten into you boy that you decided it was alright to march into my private quarters?!" she yelled her voice crescendoing with each set of questions.

Lunging forward, the piratess latched onto the boy's ear and began to lead him out by it. She stormed them right up to the main deck, fire in her eyes and alcohol in her belly making her ready to start a fight with the next person to piss her off.

[Winters-Feather]

Chris thinly smiled at Aubrey's magicked flask, his good eye sparkling with interest. Still, part of him was wary of the trifle.
"Indeed?" he replied,  eyeing the thing. He wished he had time to examine the flask more. What if it had dangerous properties? Part of Chris doubted that, and he had to suppress the urge to 'confiscate' the thing.

The pirate smirked at Aubrey's check. He knew the man was teasing, and Aubrey was friend enough to tease in such a way. Plus, it amused Chris to see Morgan so vexed.
"So long as my ropes remain untouched," he said with a loose grin.

However, Chris'  expression turned somber at the mention of the Argus. They were a formidable enemy, one the crew had to be cautious of. It was true, also, that those new might easily be inclined to leave, least they lose their lives for a crew they barely know.

Before Chris could offer his advice, a small figure stumbled in the door. The man took in a sharp breath and quickly stepped out of the way, least the vexed Morgan tripped on his boots. He waited a proper ten paces, counting them as the heels of her boots clicked against the wooden floors. His good eye glanced over towards the bed, where Morgan had been hiding a wine bottle, and towards the drawers, where a piece of  paper stuck out. 

"Well, let's go," he told Aubrey as calm as ever before quickly making his way up towards the deck.

The party's mood had shifted. At the sight of their furious First Mate, the fiddler stopped his music and the dancing and drunk pirates gawked at their superior officers and the poor cabin boy. Chris idly waved his hand towards the musicians. No need to cause an extra scene.
"Play 'The Mariner's Jig," he requested, always peculiar for the classics. The fiddlers nervously obliged.

Chris turned his attention back to Sky.
"Morgan, allow me to handle the lad," he offered as he looked down at the child.
"Boy, straighten yourself up," he demanded. "Explain what happened, and for your sake, keep it brief."

[zozee9]

Sky's eyed widened in horror as she saw the furiousness spread across the scary lady's face. It must have looked to others as if she shrunk as the mean lady kept yelling at her, because that's what it felt like to Sky. She had never been so scared by a person who wasn't actually threatening her life before.

And then with speed quicker than Sky would ever have expected from some lady so bulky looking, she was being led out by her ear. She raised her hands to her hurting ear before lowering them again, deciding to try to ignore the pain to seem stronger. She wasn't really sure if she was supposed to respond to Morgan's question or not, but it didn't really matter since Sky's voice wouldn't come out, anyway.

She was saved, however, when the strange man took control of the situation. Or brave man. Since he stood up against the mean girl... who he had given flowers to. Sky decided to stick with the title of strange man. Sky did as he said, straightening herself up as if she was a soldier. Normally she would've replied "Yes sir!" but it didn't seem fitting given the mood of the place.

Her voice barely trembling, Sky replied, "I was fol'wing the flyin' man." She pointed towards him. "I hoped he'd teach me the trick. Af'er all, it only makes sense for a boy named Sky to learn to fly!" She offered the strange man a feeble smile full of hope.