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where: the devils cask

Laughter rolled through the Bluff like distant thunder, weaving itself between the scent of aged rum and the endless tide of patrons drifting from table to table. It was a night like any other, though there was a hint of something darker just for a beat as the final coin clinked to the center of the table in the far right corner. It was one of the evenings Rue found herself at the head of the table, dealing instead of hosting an eager crowd. Quite a few patrons had flocked to the occasion to try and see if they were luckier this evening than Lady Luck. She no longer recalled how many had sat across from her, only the thrill, the rush. - Ruolan had long abandoned the regular dealer seat and instead lounged atop the edge of the table itself, all languid grace and quiet confidence, like a black cat basking in the attention of a room that knew better than to look away  The scarlet silk of her garment caught the lanternlight like spilled blood. It was just moments after the cards had already been cleared. The man across from her slumped in disbelief, pockets turned out, soul more than halfway sold.

“And there it is,” amusement laced her words when she spoke, “the last deal of the night for me. The house thanks you… for your generosity.” A sly smil graced her features, or perhaps more of a a half-mad gleam. With a lazy tilt of her head, Rue flicked two fingers toward the shadows. It was a silent signal for a fresh dealer to step in.

each whispering lap of the gentle waves against the shore was a vicious mockery. rika sat under the dock, dagger restlessly turning in her hands, as she watched the light of the moon catching the far horizon. the sea was calm that night, a far cry from the turmoil brewing inside of her. she wanted to scream, to curse the waves and the snares that awaited any pirate that dared to enter them, and tear this entire port to the ground with her savage bare hands. if there was one thing rika had no patience for it was... well, patience. keen ears picked up the soft shifting of sand underfoot behind her, and she scowled all the more, her gaze still fixed ahead. "clearly i look like i want to be disturbed." she growled, sarcasm dripping from every word. "fuck off."

the place was filled with pirates and civilians alike drinking and celebrating, or some drinking for the hell of it. with all the tables occupied, vidar found himself at the back, standing near a window and staring at it, his eyes founding the sky and stars. a puff of smoke left his mouth after he took a breath from his cigar. despite the noisy tavern, he found himself deep in peace, that probably won't last for long. and it didn't, as someone chose this moment to stand next to him and vidar took his time, he wasn't going to talk first, if said person had something to say, they would say it, otherwise the two of them can stare out of that window together.

afternoons in tortuga were always quite hot. it didn't help matters that nya had to go bring their supplies in, because she wasn't going to wait for someone else to do it, not when they needed it badly. she was struggling to lift with her small form but she was determent to it anyway, knowing she had at least two more trips to make. just when she was at the treshhold of sawbone, the box broke and all that was contained inside fell to the floor. "oh no." she said frustratingly and ran inside to find an empty box to fit the things inside, only when she got outside someone was already picking the things up. "that's not for stealing." she said, half joking.

minsy stood outside the dead man’s bluff, a clay pipe hanging outside her mouth. it had been an utterly dull work day. for someone who made her living dealing cards to pirates, and smugglers, it was almost insulting how boring it had been. with a slow breath, she exhaled a ribbon of fragrant smoke into the evening air. the tobacco carried a rich earthy sweetness. It was so dull in fact that she considered, not for the first time that week, simply boarding the next ship and leaving for good. didn't matter whose colours it flew nor where it was going. 

it was then, her gaze drifted across until it fell on a lone figure lingering nearby. she pushed herself off the post she'd been leaning against and sidled closer with the individual. holding the pipe between two fingers, she offered it across with a theatrical flourish.

"smoke, my dear friend?" she asked, her voice carried that effortless warmth that made people forget they should probably be guarding their pockets. "the tobacco's from the emperor of china himself. harvested only during the full moon by monks who sort every leaf by candlelight while reciting ancient texts" she said without hesitation, her face completely serious. a moment passed and then she smiled a little wider. "or maybe it came from a bloke named jack who sold it to me behind the fish market for a quick shag" she shrugged, taking another leisurely puff from the pipe before offering it again. "i can never quite remember how it goes."

kaito was known to enjoy a good game or two at dead man’s bluff, so as he came to spend some coinage with the everlasting hope of earning something, he stopped when they offered him a smoke. he listened to their story, whether he believed their words or not but it did amuse him. "quite an adventurous tale for a smoke almost more well traveled than one." he quipped. he eyed the pipe before looking at the other.

their knees ache from the pew, but it is as familiar as the way it feels to claps their hands together in prayer. maya is no stranger to these walls, but it has been some time since their previous visit, and they wonder if god thinks that they’ve abandoned him. each confession is heavier than the last, but they feel lighter as they bless themself and maker their way along the aisles to push out into the sunshine, squinting as their eyes adjust to the sudden change, causing them to stumble into the form of another. eyes depthless in their darkness shift upward, apologetic and, frankly, embarrassed. “if i apologise, will you promise not to tell the tale of the pirate confessing their sins to the church they’re supposed to hate?”

Zohra lazily slung an arm over the couch by the window. She made sure to visit The Siren's Nest whenever she made port in Tortuga. Not only for the passion found in the Nest, but also for the safety.

There was not many place Zohra felt completely at peace, and for that the Nest was special to her.

She leaned her head over the arm and took in the fragrant incense. If her entire quest for vengeance ended successfully, Zohra would not mind asking Dorian if she could become a Siren.

Zohra heard footsteps approach her spot in the sun. "You have two seconds to move before I do something violent" She gracefully sat up and met eyes with the person approaching. "You are blocking my sun"

Ishani had been sent out by the barkeep to the shambles. In the middle of the afternoon, the Devil's Cask had suddenly ran out of cheese.

She needed a break from the rowdy customers that inhabited the Devil's Cask anyway, so Ishani left to restock. Idly looking over the stalls, she seemed at a loss. Ishani had been forcefully bound to this town for the last two years, she chided herself as she should have known where the stall with the cheese was.

Ishani eventually found it, taking a sample from the plate. "They seem to have an endless appetite today" She said to a fellow customer "I should run back before anyone notices I'm gone. We are short staffed today"

fiadh hummed lightly under her breath as she worked, practically mesmerized by the movement of the needle pushing its way through the fabric and then out the other side. it was a fine day, somewhat cooler - well, less stifling - than usual, and the current bustling population of the markets seemed to reflect the temperate weather. maeve was playing close by, and fiadh could not help but smile at the way her daughter's dolls spoke to one another through her own tiny voice. the toys were simple and practically threadbare by this point, but the little girl's imagination would be more grand than even the most expensive playthings - or so fiadh had always tried to justify to herself. a shadow cast itself upon her stall, and when it remained for longer than a few seconds fiadh set her work down. she rose from her stool and helped herself to a stretch and a comedically exaggerated groan. "ah, you'll hafta forgive me," she intoned, flashing a smile at the newcomer. "been sittin' still too long, haven't i? how can i be of assistance?"