floating is an idle flowing

Mari tilted her head as if in agreement with Nadia. She had found some were fine as well. Though, she had a feeling that the kind of men Nadia found okay and the kind that Mari found fine were of a vastly different variety. After all, Mari being slightly unhinged wasn’t just a personality quirk, but also meant she found those who were like herself also more agreeable than those who were put together. Possibly because she could find herself in them.

Nadia nodded, not responding at first as the waiter delivered their food. The finest, Nadia was paying, but she didn't mind. After all, she needed something from Mari too. She waited for the waiter to leave. Whilst it was no secret who Nadia was, she preferred for her business to not be overheard. "Which of course begs the obvious question," Nadia took a pause to take a sip from her champagne. "Are you available next week?"

“I just mean you sound so smart beyond your years,” said Mari. “I mean, people are just so dumb. And men especially. They just always think they’re the smartest people in the room no matter what. You’re just the most put together person I know.” It was true. Mari didn’t keep many friends or many people close, but those that she did were messes on some level just like herself. Nadia certainly felt like a pillar of responsibility compared to the company she was used to keeping.

And like the fae she hated, flattery only added to her power. "You'll find a rare some are okay," after all, it had been a man Nadia had followed to the seas. "But you're right. Most are imbeciles. My crew is my family, but some times I wonder if some of their mothers dropped them as children." You didn't need to be smart to be a pirate after all. A lot of it was muscle, fearlessness, and most of all, an absolute loyalty. They were a found family.

"Please, you age me." To many, Nadia's age was unknown. Unless you had been around long enough to grow old yourself and watch her skin never wrinkle, her hair never grey, there wasn't much suspicion. After all, the beauty of a full fae that often overwhelmed, that often caused fear, was muted by the human in her. Yes, she was beautiful. Yes, she held a level of grace that was foreign to most pirates. But to many, they assumed that simply came from money. Her hatred of the fae never made her correct them.

Mari pursed her lips, looking up as if deep in thought. “Do you ever worry that they might turn around and try to sink your ship?” she asked. She asked because it felt like everyone on this island was out for their own. And, really, in her worldview they were. As soon as someone was no longer beneficial, people were quick to abandon or be rid of someone.

It was a level of quiet confidence that came with over six decades on the water that caused Nadia to shake her head. "No," she picked up her glass of wine and took a sip, savouring it and placing it down before continuing. "There's got to be respect on the water. A lot of men, some women too -- they don't understand that. Respect the water, and who lives in it. If not, it'll take you for itself." She had seen it many times. Most times, it was deserved.

“Well, that’s the thing, no one does. It’s just they’re really good at finding people who are dumber than them who are happy to go along with whatever they say,” said Mari. She put a straw into her glass so that it’d make it easier to drink.

Nadia hummed lightly in agreement. She took pride in her crew. Sure, a lot of the men were idiots, as men tended to be, and sometimes she felt like she was babysitting. But they knew what they were doing, and they were loyal. After all, she wouldn't be able to have real diamonds hanging from her ears without a team to help.

Mari was pouring out a drink for herself. The contents of the bottle splashing slightly as she neared the top of her glass. “Whoops,” she said as she put the bottle down and picked up her glass to drink from the rim so nothing more would spill over.

"Who lets these moron's captain ships?" Nadia shook her head, taking a sip of her champagne. Maybe it was age. She was one of the oldest of all the captains on the island, after all. The ones close barely had control of their ships anymore, their first mates (or children) running the ship whilst they waited to die. She had seen idiots come and go - rare that another captain actually earned her respect. But then again, she enjoyed the entertainment, and to witness a mutiny, one lead by sirens no doubt -- "Where do you think we get first row seats to that show?"

The spell written into the laws of the universe broke, and Liv stepped across the threshold into the Captain's quarters. Liv had a taste for elegance as well; it had been a while since she had indulged it. Her fingertips brushed against the green velvet and she sighed, her shoulders relaxing down her back. She looked over her shoulder at the Captain. "Thank you," she said first. "I'm indebted to your kindness. I'll never forget it." An immortal promise, with all the practiced charm of a purebred politician. "I would never expect free passage — I can work night's onboard your ship for the length of my stay. I have fed off of rats," and much, much worse, "and would keep your supplies clear of them."

Nadia's nose scrunched, ever so slightly. Disgusting. "No need." Head tilted ever so slightly. Now this woman was changed, she took her in more, tilting a head slightly as she did so. There was something about the way she carried herself that meant she wasn't any old vampire. She had that grace to her. Standing, Nadia moved slowly around the desk to look at her bookshelf. "Why are you out here?" If she was going to provide safe passage, even if the other woman worked for it, there had to be a level of trust. Even if Nadia wouldn't hesitate in slitting her throat.

Liv didn't protest when the crew's grip was a little too hard, when they held her a little bit out from them and craned their necks away from her on instinct while shuffling her through the ship. Not even when they shoved her into a storage room and slammed the door behind her as she changed, wondering all the while if she hadn't walked into her own grave willingly. Again.

If it was poisoned, Liv was going to find out. No hesitation kept her from reaching for the glass, downing its contents, sighing into the relief. It was no hot, soothing trickle of blood but it healed her nonetheless. Only once it was gone —a not insignificant amount of it lost down her chin, neck— did she find the strength to prop herself up on one elbow and afford even the slightest dignity to herself.

It was rare, but it had happened before. When you were immortal, nothing was new. Someone coming to the ship to seek passage - whether they were looking for a way home or a way out, it didn't really matter. Usually though, they had the money for passage, and weren't half dead.

It was the response she'd been expecting. Shrewd, cautious. Coming from a safe distance. What Liv needed were the magic words that would assuage those sensible doubts. "I think my home is the same as your home," Liv cautioned a guess. The pause that came after wasn't because Liv thought the pirate Captain would so soon reply with the location of her home, but because it hurt badly to speak.

Vampire.

In her daze, hearing once more that accent she'd heard back on the docks, Liv's mind conjured images of Ro. Hazily she dreamt it was her who nudged Liv back to consciousness. Wakey wakey. Liv's body gave a twitch, her mouth a grunt, and slowly she reached up to wrap her hands around her throat, which burned from saltwater and the thirst for blood. Her eyes flew open, every sense coming back to her at once, and fixed upon her savior — or captor, depending on how time told the story as it stretched out and away from the hopeful beginnings.

Nadia didn't crouch, nor did she comfort, after all this person could be a ploy, an enemy. She looked like shit, but that could all be an act. She didn't rush her crew member to get water to ease the throat, merely having it placed by the woman's side once he returned. Some people would hate to live with such suspicions, it wouldn't even be in their nature. But for Nadia, for pirates, it ran in their bones. There was no warmth given here. "Where's home?"

November 2023 In a port far, far away @nadiacattaneo

It wasn't often they picked up a stray, but it had happened enough time in Nadia's sixty years at sea that it wasn't a shock, either. She didn't rush over when one of her crew came over and said they'd pulled someone over. She didn't panic, although she certainly was curious.

"Blind. Eyes. Don't stop moving. Right, right." She mimicked Nadia, mirroring her stance the best she was able. It didn't help that to some degree, Ro felt like she was playing dress up in someone else's things. In clothes that didn't fit quite right. Everyone had to have their strengths, and Ro was doing her best to slide into a world that she wasn't used to.

Some might say the way Nadia circled Ro as the younger woman practised, but like a vulture circling its prey. Ready, with sword in hand, to pounce and end it at any moment. But there was something enjoyable in this. After all, Nadia was a captain, whilst infinitely annoyed with her crew more often than not, prided herself on the fact they were a family. It was important.

"Fuck off, you could at least give me like, an actual instruction other than swing it and move my feet." She did it anyway, because she refused to be bad at this, and more than that, she refused to let Nadia lord anything over her. Ro might have liked her, but that didn't mean she wanted to be a second rate swordsman. Everything in life was a competition, it all varied between good fun, and life or death. At least in this case Ro didn't quite fear for her life. Not yet.

"That sounds nice," Nadia replied, ignoring the jab. "Just tell me when."

She wasn't used to being coached or trained in any capacity. Not at this point in her life when Ro considered herself a master in most things that mattered. There was an ego that she had to put aside. An understanding that right now, she wasn't the best, but fuck was it horrible to admit. If she wasn't immediately good at something, most of the time she'd just give it up without a second thought. But right now, she had an audience, and failure didn't feel like any sort of option.

Nadia would never give too much. She'd always been that way, holding her heart, her thoughts, anything that could hurt her, close to her chest. Even now, as she was beginning to trust, tolerate, and maybe even consider Ro a friend, more and more, she remained the captain of her ship. Especially with a sword in hand. So her response was simple, blunt maybe, but it had been effective so far. Plus, she had a feeling it would annoy Ro, which she knew in turn would only motivate her further. "Better. Go again."

Ro wasn't one to second guess herself. All of the parts inside of her created something that was cocky, and sure. Bones that knew they would never falter. Muscles that contracted with ease for every movement. Sometimes she was in awe of herself, in what had been shaped and crafted through every horrible thing, and every good thing, too. She hadn't considered that Nadia would be among the good. But standing there, sword in hand, she only looked at the woman with fondness. Not entirely trust. Not yet. But there was a bond there nonetheless. Something that couldn't be so easily cleaved off.

"Maybe," Nadia replied, head tilted slightly as she took in what Ro was doing. She remembered the first time she'd held a sword, how right it had felt. It felt nice, special, nostalgic almost, passing that on to another, on to Ro. "Think of the sword as part of you. Let instinct move it." It was not as natural to everyone as it was to Nadia, as it were to a pirate. Like a dance, the clash of metal against metal the song.