Stars Ashore

Doone’s gaze drifted back toward the black seam of horizon where sea kissed sky. His voice stayed low, almost thoughtful. “Stealing, fighting, running cargo… all ships steal, one way or another. Even navies. The Charter too. They steal men from taverns, steal years off lives, steal blood from anyone in their way. Pirates just don’t bother dressing it up respectable.” Turning back, he studied Zinas with that same patient intensity he gave the stars. “Sailor, pirate, doesn’t matter what you call it. The sea knew you and you knew a ship.”

A faint smirk ghosted across his face. He tipped his head, eyes tracing Zinas’s face rather than his hands now. “That’s it,” he said quietly, “very little difference. Sometimes none at all. Mostly it’s the flag you fly and the stories people tell after you’re gone.” Doone leaned back a little, "You seem a little focused on Pirates to be sure. But I don't think you were one. If that's any consolation." He paused and added with an easiness that belied his next words, "If you'd been on a Pirate ship they would've made sure you were dead."

"What happened to yours?" he asked, one eyebrow cocked.

He grew a little defensive, but caught it before he could spit it out. Was he planning on defending the charter? Idiotic, he couldn't believe himself, but it simply gave him an inkling. What if he'd been...

"Yeah, I guess that's fair. Everyone steals, pirates just do that out in the open. Don't dress it up." And here he was passing judgements upon pirates when he probably wasn't much better than them.

If he'd been drinking something, he would've probably chocked on it. His eyes wide for a moment. The idea of having died... he touched a hand to his throat.

"Hmm, they did really try there best," he commented. But also he agreed. It didn't feel like he could've been a pirate. "A no-name sailor then," he decided. "With broken fingers," he added with a scof. "I don't feel the need to return to the sea now, though." Was it fear? Probably.

The Blue-Eyed Devil spread his arms as if to present himself in all his glory. He enjoyed his conversation with Ginika, but he could also sense the tension between them, because it was clear to both of them that they did not trust each other and were ready to replace their smiles with knives if necessary. But for now, there was no prospect of such a development - they would continue to exchange sharp words, veiled as compliments, which they would offer each other one way or another.

"I haven't heard such fine words from a woman in a long time," Magnus said casually, smiling broadly at the woman. "I will keep them close to my heart," he added with mock solemnity, shaking his head in quiet amusement.

Part of him enjoyed their rivalry for it pushed him to be sharper, stronger, more inventive. He felt a certain sense of satisfaction that no other relationship could give him. But there was another part of him that wanted to see all the captains and their crews together to strike such a blow against the Crown that they would be remembered forever, and perhaps even wound it so grievously that its forces might be driven from the Caribbean for a time. But it seemed that his dream was not achievable.

"What are you planning that you don't want me around?" Magnus asked, leaning forward toward Ginika. His blue eyes lingered on hers, as if searching for the answer in them, because it was crystal clear to him that she would not reveal her secrets to a man who was her enemy. Still, what harm in asking, if only to reinforce the unpleasant image she already held of him?

"I'm not surprised," she commented, as if she couldn't see Magnus get attention from any woman, though she knew he'd be perfect for some. A certain kind of sly smile and personality to him. Not for her, she never enjoyed to have to fight for the dominant role.

"Oh, that's very forward of you, you'd think I'd tell you my plans? Hmm, perhaps it does pay that you're here, we show a striking image to our enemies. They might even think we're planning something."

At her reminder of her own untouchable nature, Zarin’s eyes came back to her, dark with a wry respect. “Yes. You pick your danger.” His words held no flattery. Just the blunt steadiness of a man who believed unequivocally in what he said. When she mentioned the Wake’s wounds, Zarin’s expression softened, almost imperceptibly, into something that bordered on fondness. “Gun holes, cracked mast... Maybe you and the Wake summoned me back here.” He glanced past her shoulder to the ship, his hand flexing slightly as if itching for his tools already. “I’ll patch her quiet. No one will know where she was hit when I'm done.” A pause, then half a grin broke through, quick and fleeting. “I can't imagine the kind of business that would keep you all on land. Especially now."

She smiled kindly, a gesture only reserved for a few. "Well, I am glad you always find yourself back in Tortuga, and that at times I find myself there too. Very few carpenters are as good as you, and I do not say that lightly," she commented.

Her nod was firm, and amused, Zarin said what he saw, and he was correct in his assesment. Ginika liked to pick her danger.

"Thank you, Zarin," she said, as he made his promise. She believed him. "And there is plenty of business that keeps us on land, but it's a secret," she said with a wink. "I wouldn't want you to get in trouble because of me."

She chuckled in a way that floated just under the steady hum of noise from outside. "Aye, we both know that's not true," she replied, twinges of playfulness and mischief mingling together in her tone. "There's a delicate balance between fear and want. What they don't know is you've struck perfectly it in them and they have both."

She shrugged her mouth, then her shoulders. "More or less," she answered, flicking through the notes, observations, things uncovered between the pages of her mind. All carefully extracted, avoided, or concluded. "The bed's worse, though." She grinned, thumping a hand onto the sparse, feather-filled mattress that hardly rivaled a ship's sleeping hammock.

Sitting up on the bed and crossing her legs, Jo rested her elbows onto her thighs to come to full attention, as if to lean into every word Ginika was about to say, over the cliff to get the better view. "What've you got for me, Captain?"

"That has to be it," she agreed, a finger to her lips, as if she was still muling it over. She was not, she did believe she'd made enough of her name for herself that most saw her for what she was, that they knew her face, and with that the whispers of her ship, of the Wake, of what she could do, or have her crew do for her.

Speaking of that. "I cannot say I do not understand why you'd leave ship to be somewhere else for a moment, but why you'd find yourself a worse place to sleep is beyond me. Regardless, not why I am here. I have a job for you, of course. I need to pin down our next target, but in order to do that, I'll need to know the carter's future plans, which ships mean to say, and where."

"If you must know, my darling boy, I am a surgeon" Bartholomew said this with a hint of a sneer. He watched Lebas turn the scalpel over to observe it. "I need tools similar to that so I can complete my tasks" Bartholomew approached Lebas and pointed out the details on the blade "Slicing open flesh, pinning blood vessels, and dissecting body tissue is what I need this small blade to do" Bartholomew could hardly think that Lebas could complete a blade so sharp a thin, but he was up to pitching the challenge.

He got goosebumps all over as the surgeon came closer and pointed out the details along the small blade. He was the one holding it, but that didn't stop his body from the sudden wariness. Still, it was much better than it had been before, when the ports were closed and pirate and townsfolk were ready to turn on each other. "Same sizes as well?" he asked, trying to think of ways he could make the steel flexible enough.

She crossed her arms. What exactly did Lebas mean by that?! "Do you see their deathly faces screaming for mercy every day?" Mary pushed him further. "Because I do." She came to Tortuga specifically to seek revenge, and revenge she would get. Mary's hand slid to her saber, but she did not draw yet. The other traitor was still at large and she wanted to kill that one first.

She pushed him then, and he would've normally gladly pushed back, fought back, but he had none of that rage right now. Just the shame. Because he didn't know how to make things better. "It wasn't me!" he winced. He sounded more like a child than anything else. "I just wanted out, I didn't want to be a pirate anymore, but I didn't want anything to happen to all of you!"

She fiddled with some of the embroidery on the chair. "Doesn't every pirate have a reason to fear them? Personally I'd prefer to avoid gaining a necklace made from rope" Mary said with a grim filled voice.

"Of course, fear can manifest itself in different ways, hoewever," he said. "My fear doesn't stop me from being eager to get into battle." Krish smiled. "I personally like to run towards danger, danger after all makes for the best stories," he explained.

Klio to a moment to carefully glance around with her eyes. The woman relaxed slightly more at the confirmation that there still weren't any from the Harbinger around. The last thing that needed to happen was someone from the crew spotting the two talking and wondering if she was turning her back on them. While she knew that could never be the case, she still feared the dare that she could lose them all. Especially should her secret be made known to them.

"Of course!" The Storyteller said with a great show of his hands. "Three to be exact, though only two after becoming a pirate." He smirked, thinking that if he'd done any jailbreak while on the Oathbreaker, it certainly would've already become known to her. And it would've been the truth. That wasn't always the case for Krish's stories. "Though none as high risk as getting into Scotland," he said.

He laughed. "I wouldn't think how one could ever use that information against me, but no. None of my old crew has joined me on the Oathbreaker, most of them are dead, or retired." He paused. "On the sea, we're all free, there is no need to be ashamed to change ships and crews."

pockets had been heavier before setting foot to the card table, && yet, as they emptied, teodosio found his spirits rising. so the money flowed, as did the laughter, and the rum. as long as he could afford the next hand && the next pitcher, life was good.

but then - no, he'd only finally just noticed. blinking through a tipsy haze of merriment && good booze, the frown replaced the wide grin that the pirate wore, and he slammed a hand down against the cracked wooden playing table. " damn you, you rat! snake! i saw that, i saw it just now! you traded out the dice for your own! prove to me they aren't weighted, or i'll show you how a cheat is handled by a harbinger! " bold words, all but shouted in a vivacious howl to the competitor opposite teodosio. heat crawled up his spine as irritation grew, the other looking awfully smug for having been caught, and teo was about to leap across the table && strangle them there && there.

yet - a hand on his shoulder stopped him, and teo glowered at who had decided to step in, ruining his chance for revenge. " you have a cheat across from us! " he accused, scarred finger jabbing out towards the other. " i'm owed fifteen pounds back, or i'll teach a lesson here && now! are you with me, or against me? "

But the games filled him with excitement, his blood rushing with every bet placed. Even more so when people decided to attempt to cheat. He laughed when it turned out they had one at their table.

"Hold on. Clearly they want your attention and perhaps even want you to cut them to pieces!" the pirate said. "Would it not be more satisfactory to have them squeel before you take your money back?"

it feels like its been quite some time since the blockade ended, and yet it felt like it was still in the air despite everything looking to be normal. kaito knew he needed to get off the raider's revenge despite how much he enjoyed being there and so here he was in the tavern downing like whatever rum he was able to get his hands on as he stood leaning against the bar. it seemed he was in a good mood but evidently, however, that is not the case for everyone — kai sidesteps another person blundering through, letting out an aggrieved sigh and not fully noticing the other. “ would you watch where you're going? ” he quipped, acting more on muscle memory as his hand instinctly reached for his sword. last thing he was going to do was set fire to one of his favorite places.

dorian's steps were slow and measured as he approached the forge, taking in his surroundings. he didn't often have need to visit this part of port, but he wasn't averse to it. he quite liked the ring of metal clanging and the smell of the fires, it was so very different to the scent of incense that clung to him and the soft sounds that filled his walls. he stepped closer to the noise, catching sight of lebas working the metal with the muscles to show for it, and simply waited to be noticed. dorian was not the type to announce his arrival. half of the time he didn't need to, and the other half he exercised patience as he waited to be regarded. it carried more weight, he felt, as he believed no man should have to beg for attention.

"The entire ship, my brother, most of my crew" Mary listed off the victims. "The crew that did not drown hanged. I barely escaped on a raft of driftwood" she retold her tale of woe. Mary tilted her head and continued glaring at Lebas. "tell me, do I still haunt your nightmares?"

He winced when she spoke of the fates of those who had been on the ship, most of the crew, drowned or hanged. And him: lucky to have gotten away before it had even happened. Did she haunt his nightmares? Not her necessarily, all of them rather. "Well... you don't really show up in my happy dreams," he countered, and felt a bit bad about it.

"Physically? I think I'm alright" Mary felt a little sheepish attracting attention in such a place, especially since she had been laying low the past few days. "I suggest you wait a few minutes before leaving, if you were planning that" Not that the Siren's Nest was especially safe, but it was one of the more friendly businesses to pirates.

"Mentally?" he asked, deciding to heed her warning. It wouldn't be so bad to avoid fighting today. Though he was close enough to ask her how many there were. "Do you have any reason to be afraid of them? Or did they look like they were out on a war path?" he asked. It wasn't anything new. The gallows were full with their war, and he felt like they were all one wrong step away from swinging themselves.

The chuckle that escaped her held no warmth. The sound that slipped from her lips was a low, dark thing that coiled in the space between them. Her gaze never once left his, as if willing him to flinch. “Tell me then; what possible reason would I have to invent such a thing? It would be far simpler to keep you quiet, to avoid making a scene with so many soldiers underfoot. And yet… somehow, I thought revenge might taste sweeter.”

"Fuck do I know? People do way more idiotic things than that! And already you're showing me you're one of the weird ones. You could've just knived me, for whatever you say I did to you, but instead you want to talk about it? Bloody dumb revenge if you ask me!" He spit the words out. He did, of course, not wish to be knived. He was still recovering from the injuries from his almost-drowning, and all the bruises from the fights at the pit.

"Oh yeah? Does it count for anything now that I can't even remember who you were and what I did?" he asked. "Because I think you're just chickening out because you know it's worthless. How about you stick around, sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere, you can come bother me again when I know what I've done that got your panties all twisted!"

Someone should shut him up. He should shut himself up. Maybe if she was a bit closer, maybe something would come back.

Anyone who didn't know her would have called her a fool - door unlocked, a free entry; boots off, no chance of running; eyes covered, an anonymous killer's delight. Not even the flicker of a blade against candlelight to threaten anyone who so much as dared peek in. What they wouldn't have known was that Josephine not only was unafraid of a guest, but she had prepared for it.

Captain's presence was felt before seen, known before heard. A space filled by vital energy and bloodlust, which always smelled of desire and thirst. Jo's skin sang with the knowing, a conversation between bodies without ever succumbing to touch. The comment didn't startle her; in fact, she grinned, wry under the brim of her hat, a comfortable sleepiness to her chin and cheeks.

"Like tamarind," she mused, picking up her head to see her fully. Captain moved with the grace of a body that had seen a thousand lifetimes, and had conquered many more. A grace and ease preceded every step, weightless and immense all at once. "Shit-looking on the outside, tastes nice on the inside. If you get it open, you get a treat." She lifted her arms up and out, as if to say, Treat, at your service. "No trouble getting in, I expect?"

"Like tamarind," she agreed, taking off her cloak as she sat, which made her dress appear, the most vibrant item in the room.

"None whatsoever," she said. "I don't think a single head was raised towards me. And if there had been, I'd like to think they treated me as a shadow. Sometimes I wonder if it's my skill or if I simply no longer turn heads like I used to," she joked, straightening out her dress.

"Has your time away from the Wake done you the good you were hoping for?" If that was indeed what she was hoping for. Ginika did not pretend to know her crew inside and out, but she did wish to know what pushed her forward, what she could use to help with their next targets.