forum weathervane tyrant // oxo // closed

Started December 20, 2022 by @larcenistarsonist group

tune

With her compass and using her nail as a ruler, Svierk maps out their next point of attention. There hasn't been any disastrous storms nor weather in the area, odd for it being an entirely coastal village… but, she also thought the same for the last three ports they plundered. This expedition is growing tedious, no longer just a joyful jaunt and treasure hunt. The Weathervane Tablet is… something of great importance. If she doesn't get her hands on it soon, it could mean the end.

Deciding that brewing alone won't help, Svierk shakes her head and rerolls the map. Her hair isn't braided, hanging loose around her lavender skin. Her signature three-pointed hat is missing as well, her twin horns jutting uncovered out of her forehead. She sighs aloud, taking a moment to feel the cool pre-sunrise air. After her brief moment, Svierk then launches herself over the side of the railing. She catches a rope and uses it to lower herself to the ground with a solid thunk. It should've awakened her crewmates. Svierk needs some conversation to jolt her out of her stressed and sleepless morning stupor.

Before Finn could fully drift off again, a loud thunk somewhere on the ship woke them up. Curse their sensitive elven ears. They had always been a bit of a light sleeper due to their impeccable hearing, but that was usually a good thing in their profession. One could never be too careful. They slowly stretched, shoulders popping a bit as they adjusted (gods, sleeping on the floor was uncomfortable), and then stood. They were still a tiny bit cold, but they supposed they would just have to deal with it.

If someone else was already clearly awake on the ship, Finn figured that meant they were okay to be awake and moving around as well. They didn't want to look suspicious this early in the game, so they merely wandered in the direction of the noise, curious. At the very least, if anyone else was confused at them for being up and about they could be honest.

As they climbed onto the deck, they took in the beautiful early morning shade of the sky. Finn didn't often wake up this early, sleeping through the night when they had the chance and striking under the cover of darkness when they did not, so seeing the world all quiet before the sunrise wasn't a regular sensation for them. They blinked after several moments, realizing that they had been looking around at the sky for too long instead of trying to find out what caused the curious thunk.

Svierk's pointed ears twitch, fascinated with the sound of unfamiliar footsteps climbing the stairs from the crew's quarters. It's far too early for any of her mates to be up and at it. Usually Svierk has to steal a few things, kick a hammock, and find a horn to honk in the center of the rooms. Well, that only leaves Finn. With a sigh, Svierk combs her fingers through her hair and leans up against the main mast. She had anticipated at least another few minutes of solitude, but now she has to sacrifice that. If she disappears the second the new employee surfaces, what impression could that possibly leave? Surely not a good one.

Tucking her search for the Weathervane Tablet deep into the back of her mind, she crosses her arms and stares off the rail of the ship. The ocean is lavender with the wisteria skies. Svierk has always enjoyed the color purple–calming, something from memories buried.

As a breeze flutters through her hair, the door at the top of the staircase creaks. "Good morning, Finn," she says quietly, turned away from the warlock. "Pleasant dreams?" She inquires, keeping her eyes locked on the rolling waves decorating the horizon. She supposes she might look odd missing her long, signature braid and leather tricorne. Her eyes are tired; her smirk is sluggish; her fingers are tapping rhythms onto her biceps. Not everybody sees her like this.

It was a bit disarming to see the captain like this, so early in the morning. Though to be fair, Finn hadn't seen her much even with her regular attire, so it was possible that she just didn't feel like plaiting her hair or wearing her fancy captain hat today. At any rate, that wasn't what it felt like. She felt more…unguarded, more open. Though Finn doubted she felt open enough to just share any secrets with them, but still. This felt different than yesterday, and, for the first time since first seeing her, Finn was struck by just how beautiful she was. Without all of the trappings that she had worn yesterday, some of the edge was taken off of her stare. The lavender lighting only served to further soften her features, lending her a warm glow that was only possible during the early morning hours. Waking up so early this morning seemed to be worth it so far.

The only real difference in Finn's appearance from the day before was that they had taken their hair out of its half-up style. It was too short to really do anything else with, so they had ditched the half ponytail in favor of letting their hair hang loose around their ears, barely reaching their chin in length. They mostly just hoped that the lavender palette of the sky didn't clash with their fiery coloring.

Though they shouldn't get distracted by the splendor of the early morning and its way of softening everything in sight. They did have a mission to fulfill, and every move had to be towards their end goal, however long it took. At her question, Finn couldn't help but a snort a little. It wasn't as if she knew the subject of their dreams. Usually Finn didn't have any, and when they did it was either Finn's patron's way of speaking to them, or something more akin to a nightmare. Finn preferred it when they didn't dream. Even their happiest dreams were more confusing than fulfilling.

"Slept like a rock," Finn answered, blinking out of their early morning trance. Perhaps it was the tiredness from not sleeping in as much as usual. Sleepiness led to sloppiness, and that was something Finn could not afford. Maybe it was better to miss the lilac dreamland and wake after the sun. The purple lighting made everything feel hazy and soft, almost like a dream itself. Finn would have to actively work not to let the dreaminess get the best of them until they awoke more fully. "And yourself?"

Svierk turns, her arms crossed over her chest. It's quite chilly, the sun yet to warm the ocean with the day's light, but she's unaffected due to the infernal blood coursing through her veins. Her parents had been imps, living deep within the mountains next to a Dwarven village. The sunrises there were amber rather than violet, dying the fields and mountains in blood instead of ink. Svierk prefers the ocean to mountains. She can't be cornered and killed when there's nothing but open sea in all directions.

"Hm," She hums, allowing her head to fall back as the very first ray of golden light slices through the lavender skies. "I didn't sleep," she answers truthfully. For the entirety of the night she was translating plundered scrolls and crafting the next plan of action. The Weathervane Tablet has evaded her for nearly three years now, and the novelty of her voyage is wearing thin. She's been growing impatient. Impatience will get her killed. "There's far too much work to do to prioritize sleep."

It feels odd speaking with the newcomer in the isolation of the daybreak. Normally there's activity from all corners of the ship as the seven of them race to finish their tasks, getting distracted and a little violent every few minutes. The air feels much more still than the afternoon. Svierk isn't sure if it's easier or harder to breathe. "Tell me, Finn, how long were you working alone before this?" She finally breaks her stare with the horizon and turns to the warlock, noting pleasantly how their hair seems to glow in the first shreds of dawn.

As the first rays of sunrise cut through the air, Finn once again understood why people seemed to extol the virtues of sunrises and sunsets. They had seen plenty of the latter, but the former was what they had heard several people say was superior. Finn wasn't sure about that, as the evening air seemed to be warmer and more inviting than the crisp air of early morning, but there was still something to be said about the beauty.

It was only their second day aboard the ship, but Finn wondered if speaking this early with the captain would ever feel normal, assuming they awoke early enough to do this again. Finn put aside the thought, not wanting to think too much about speaking to the others aboard the ship or growing close with them. They had one job to do, and they would do it. Actually letting these people in was not part of the job description. However, it would be somewhat uncomfortable for them both to just stand in silence, so Finn was not surprised that Svierk was trying to make conversation. It wasn't unwelcome, though. If anything, Finn would say it was pleasant, or at the very least, bearable. Though Svierk was as hard for them to read as ever. They vastly preferred people whose expressions made their every thought clear, but in Finn's profession those sort of people were few and far between. One didn't last long if they didn't know how to hide their emotions.

Finn wasn't sure if they would have immediately pegged Svierk as an insomniac, but it explained why she was awake so early. Surely no one wanted to up before the sun if they could help it. Finn was just too damn curious for their own good. As she spoke, Finn did notice she had a conviction about her, though that was obvious from the moment they had first set eyes on her. She was on a mission of her own, whatever it may be. She had a fire in her eyes that only those looking to accomplish something did.

Why did people always want to ask Finn about themself? They supposed it was a natural part of getting to know someone, and this crew really thought that Finn was one of them. Well, that they would be eventually since several of those on the crew still didn't seem to like or trust them. They would have to answer, but as they thought about it, they honestly weren't entirely sure of the answer. Did they start when they took small jobs before leaving home or after they had officially become a full-time mercenary? They had always been self-sufficient, even from a young age Finn had valued independence.

"For a long, long time," Finn admits, scratching at the back of their neck. "Even as a kid I wanted to be independent, so I started doing small tasks for pay. Things like cleaning or delivering small packages or whatnot. I have worked with other people before, but it was on and off. Guess I never really found the ones that I clicked with." They shrugged nonchalantly. "Did you always know that you wanted to be a pirate?" They weren't sure where that question came from, but they found they were suddenly curious. They didn't want to be the only one sharing here.

She listens to Finn for a moment, taking into account their syntax, diction, and tone to fully analyze the depth of the sentences. The analyzation of simple small talk was an unexpected skill Svierk picked up over her years on the high seas. She's been able to catch plenty of rats and bastards from just listening. She's had them all killed before they could even initiate their nefarious schemes. An independent crew member could be dangerous–especially a new one who doesn't quite care to share shady details from their past. Well, Svierk can't really expect them to open up if she pries. It's a waiting game. And it's one Svierk intends to win.

Has she always wished to be a pirate? No, the simple answer is no. As a child, she dreamed of following in her grandmother's footsteps, to join the guard, to fight for a cause, to protect others without abandon. Her parents had been concerned for her. No child should be so willing to put their life on the line from such a young age. However, the whole savior arc never lasted too long. She had been twelve when her life changed for the worse. When the ground crumbled and the temples collapsed and hell rose up from the cracks dividing the earthen crust. She can't protect what's already dead.

"Well, at first I wanted to be a dragon," she answers with a shrug and slow stride towards the warlock. It's not quite a lie. "However, I don't have the wings nor spit fire capabilities." She smiles at that, an impish thing that reaches her eyes. "I chose the next best thing. Pirating comes with many benefits. Terrorizing, stealing, hoarding, plundering, voyaging without a single material tie in the world." She lists the options out on her fingers. There's a duo of rune-embedded silver rings on all of her digits. Twenty different spells she's stolen from her years on the sea. Well, save for the one at the base of her left ring finger. Svierk didn't steal that one. "A regular trade job wouldn't suit my adventurous nature, would it?"

Finn should have expected as much from her answer. Finn themself had wanted to be a magic-user when they were a child, casting magic left and right, which they were able to attain. But for all their research, the one thing they had failed to do was consult other warlocks before calling upon a patron to make a bargain with. They had wanted freedom, and ended up walking into more machinations. Though of course they had known that was a possibility at the time, though there were many more factors at play than just Finn's thirst for knowledge. At this point, Finn had realized that they would likely never be free of other people's schemes, so they might as well stand to gain something from doing others' dirty work. If that was to be their role, they would make sure to profit from it, and profit they did. Just like this venture.

However, Svierk truly seemed to be free, or at least compared to most of the people Finn had associated with she was. Many of Finn's acquaintances had debts to settle or a family to support, ties that bound them in place and wouldn't allow them to truly adventure. And as much as Finn wandered and adventured and learned, they knew that they could never fully be free of all of their ties either. Once again, they realized that their mind was wandering too far out of the realm of the conversation, trying to get themself back on topic.

Pirating did sound nice. Though even Svierk couldn't avoid having ties and being involved with others' schemes, or Finn wouldn't be here. Even if it was just out of fear, others would always want to use you for something. Still, Svierk was different from a lot of people that Finn had met. She truly did seem to have an adventurous spirit, like she claimed. But there was something deeper about her, something fascinating that Finn couldn't quite put their finger on. They wanted to know what she knew.

"I suppose not," Finn agreed with her, a small smile spreading onto their delicate fae features. "There is something to be said about the freedom that comes with being a pirate. Although being a dragon would certainly be an exciting prospect. I know that I've wanted to use magic from a young age myself, which is something that did come to fruition."

(oh my god I'm so so sorry its been this long. I've been grinding hard on some special limited time events for the past 2 weeks and i haven't had the time to get out a quality response for this. I promise im not abandoning this, I just consider this a high-quality rp and I need to set aside a good chunk of time to get out a good response akjfksk I'll try my hardest to be much more active)

Svierk smiles softly, her lips closed and a small twinkle reaching her eyes. She remembered the way her grandmother would describe the beautiful golden dragons that she used to see as a child, their golden wings not unlike the shade of Finn's hair in the morning sun. It's the dawns like this that cause nostalgia to swarm Svierk's senses and drawn her in memories. If she squints, she can almost see her twin uncles laughing in the sunrise.

Her village used to be the village of the first light, swarmed with devils and angels alike. They lived within the snow-capped mountains, a sweltering caldera a stark contrast to the frigid air of the surface. There had been skylights, slivers for vents that allowed them to watch the rising sun in the east. There had been lilac and amber temples, clergy who would always give little tiefling girls fruit from the surface whenever they asked. Fruit tastes much better below ground.

It's funny how she wound up a pirate when she once wanted to be as noble and selfless as her grandmother. Motivations change. Lives change. Situations change. Svierk is glad none of the fruit-giving priests are alive today to see what she had become. The daybreak always leaves a sickly sweet taste in the back of her throat. It tastes like apples and berries.

"Well, I'm glad that you managed to fulfill your childhood dreams," she says smoothly, taking one step forward and ducking her head to be right in Finn's face. Her pointed nose is barely an inch from the warlock's, the warm heat radiating from them borderline pleasant. When she speaks next, her voice is low and husky. "That makes one of us." She punctuated her sentence with a smirk before stepping back and uncrossing her arms. Below deck, the bustling of the crew echoes. "Now, if you don't mind me, I have to get ready for the morning." She turns, maroon hair swirling around her shoulders, and she disappears through the opposie door to her quarters.

(don't worry about it dude! it's all good :))

As Svierk got closer, Finn found themself frozen, unable to look away from the captivating stare of the pirate in front of them. It had been a while since they had been that close to someone, since they had few companions and typically fought at more of a distance due to their magical abilities. It wasn't unpleasant, though they didn't want to admit that. Something about the way she spoke sent shivers up Finn's spine–or was it her words? It wasn't as if being trapped within a web of schemes and machinations of both their patron and those around them was Finn's childhood dream, though of course everything had been simpler then. They hadn't exactly wanted to be a mercenary as a child, so they had really only fulfilled that dream in the broadest sense possible. At least their younger self would respect their current self, of that they were sure.

The moment seemed to stretch longer, with Finn's mind torn between the closeness of the two of them and ruminating on that statement. Though soon enough, Svierk leaned back and then left to her quarters. For several moments, Finn merely stood in place, mind whirring at top speed as they thought back to their childhood. It certainly hadn't been an easy one, with their playful antics quickly turning into more serious enterprises and a need to escape their home. They had not had the loving parents that they had wished for, instead practically fending for themself by the time they were old enough to get any sort of job.

After a bit, Finn shook it off. They didn't need to dwell on the past; now was not the time nor the place. They glanced back at the sunrise, seeing how it tinted the world in bright, rosy shades with a small smile before heading back belowdecks. They might as well get ready for the day themself, having only come above deck to investigate the noise. They had to stay focused. Just because they were able to catch Svierk off guard in the morning did not make her any less of an enemy. They had to remember that. No matter how nice or unguarded or relatable Finn found the crew, that would not waver them in their course. They had come here for one thing and one thing only, and they would complete their mission. Nothing would stop them from that goal.

Below deck, while Svierk busies Finn with conversation and sunrises, Gidror awakes with a shout, his head dripping wet as Mazirax stands above him with an empty–also dripping–water bucket. Or… well, there's no guarantee that it is actually water, but Gidror assumes that Mazirax has more dignity than that. Esteban on the other hand… Well, there's a reason the tabaxi and the half-orc no longer share any sort of quarters. Mazirax huffs, his breath warming the air, and he approaches his wardrobe to choose his attire for the day. It's all the exact same shirt in just slightly varying shades of brown with wide trousers to accommodate his massive and scaled thighs. He accessorizes with an ungodly amount of gold, polished to shine in any light, no matter how small.

Gidror gets up with a grumble and orkish swears. His hammock is as damp as his sopping mohawk. His grimey shirt gains the same condition as Gidror pulls it over his head. His routine is done much faster than Mazirax's, the half-orc having no need for accessories or face washing. If his god made him this way, Gidror certainly isn't about to disrespect them by altering it. Esteban would blatantly disagree, but he's too busy applying various plundered conditioners and whisker oil to bother lecturing his half-orc crewmate. Billi only takes a few minutes to gather their instrument and change into more adequate day clothes. Ivanca disappears and reappears, ready for the day, in only a few seconds. Nobody knows how she does it, nobody cares all too much to ask.

"Mmm!" Esteban hums as he stretches his arms high above his head. He smacks his tongue a few times, chasing away the taste of sleep. He could go for some raspberry muffins right about now. Perhaps he'll ask Mazirax to make some for the crew tomorrow morning. "Ready for another lovely day, Billi?"

The satyr scowls and pushes open the ajar cabin door. "It looks like sunshine decided to take a morning walk." Of course, there's nobody the bard could be referring to other than the new warlock. Almost as soon as they finish grumbling their sentence, footsteps sound and the warlock descends the staircase. "Manage to sleep well?" Billi asks, but their words are clearly not interested in conversing.

"I hope you didn't mind the floor much. We haven't swept in a little while, but I'm sure you won't catch any deadly diseases." Esteban, quite the opposite of Billi, is willing to converse all morning with the newcomer.

Finn blinks as they are greeted with the now-familiar faces, still not fully used to being apart of a crew. It is a weird feeling for them to wake up in the morning with the same people they spent the night with. The satyr, Billi, looks a bit suspicious, or possibly just annoyed, with Finn, though Esteban looks as cheery as ever. Finn has to resist taking a liking to the chatty tabaxi. They can't imagine how someone, especially a pirate, can be that cheerful all the time. It must be exhausting.

"I slept fine, thank you," Finn says, looking at Billi before sliding their gaze to Esteban. "Well, as long as I don't catch any diseases." They shrug, moving past the two to get their meager amount of things to change. Finn is a fairly light packer, not caring as much about fancy jewelry or accessories, though they do like to look nice, don't get them wrong. They just think that in the grand scheme of things, there are far more important issues than dressing fancy. As long as they are clean and look presentable, Finn is happy with their appearance, maybe even a little vain about it at times. They look good as is, not needing the fancy baubles (or that is what they like to tell themself anyway, and they are a very good liar).

(sorry it's short i have class soon)

"I'm glad," Esteban chirps, fixing his whiskers and face tufts in a mirror propped against the side of the wall. There's a large crack down the center of it, but none of the crew pay it any mind. It's difficult to keep a large mirror intact when they're constantly upon the high seas. After his appearance is satisfactory, Esteban clears his throat and does a few brief movements with his hands. Runes form from his fingers, detaching from his claws and floating to the ceiling. When they hit the wood, it fizzles into golden dust that fades quickly. Esteban claps, smiling at the others and striding to the door. "Well, my morning preparation is done. It's time to bother Mazirax."

A grumble is already heard from the dragonborn next door. Something about muffins and pancakes and syrup that makes Billi gag. "Sorry if Esteban's… a lot," Billi apologizes, but there really is no apology in their tone. They look incredibly tired, the dark bags beneath their dark eyes not lightened with sleep. "Odds are breakfast will be some sort of lukewarm porridge again. The Captain plans on stopping at the next port to get groceries." Billi fixes their shirt and crosses their arms over their chest. It's been a while since they've had proper bacon and ham with a good hash. Their food supplies have been… sparse, especially with Svierk's reputation and the tendency to be chased away as soon as they dock. Billi's never had any qualms with killing when necessary, but god do the consequences get annoying. You killed my uncle's wife's friend's neighbor's dogsitter's brother's wife! Okay? Billi really could not care less. However, they do care if somebody gets an anaphylaxis attack, because that means that they're responsible for nursing god's worst patients back to health. "Do you have any food allergies that'll kill you?"

Finn watched Esteban go with the beginnings of a smirk. God, that tabaxi really was social. Finn wasn't sure if they had seen him ever not talking to someone, and wouldn't be surprised if that kept up throughout the entirety of their journey with this crew. The journey that would end with Finn taking his life.

No. Finn could not get attached. This was only their second day here; they could care about any of these people. About these monsters. Finn only had one job, and it was for the good of the people. Though, of course, it wasn't as if Finn was pure of heart or anything either. But befriending those they were supposed to kill in order to gain their trust was a first for them, and already they knew it would difficult. Good thing Finn had been running from any sort of feelings–platonic or otherwise–for a long time and was getting quite skilled at it.

Finn snapped back to the present as Billi spoke, shrugging at the apology. They didn't mind Esteban's constant stream of energy…mostly. At the mention of allergies, Finn thought for a moment. They doubted there would be pollen in whatever food Billi made, and that didn't kill them, just gave them a stuffy nose and made them sneeze occasionally. So Finn should be fine unless the food was poisoned. Actually, that would be a smart way to kill them all that wouldn't require any sort of battle. Finn filed it away for later.

"No, I don't," Finn responded. "And thank the gods for that. I really like food." That much was true. They remembered bragging about it as a kid. "What kind of stuff do you usually make, anyway? I'm not terrible at cooking myself, if you want some help from time to time."

Billi narrows their eyes, rectangular pupils slightly dilated in the low light of the sleeping quarters. "Food," they answer simply. "If you want to know the details, bring it up with Mazirax. He's the one who knows the difference between spices and salts and different dishes." It's true; Billi could just eat garbage if worse came to worse. Before they went aboard the Iron Zeppelin, Billi was indeed on the streets and eating wanted posters from the inn-side bulletin boards. The guards had always been upset, but it was never technically illegal. "I just eat whatever's put in front of me."

They sigh and find their crocheted cap, tucking it over their head of curly hair and small horns. The horns could be larger, if not for the intense filing their mother insisted on throughout their short childhood. Eugh, a sneer forms on the satyr's face as they think of it. "C'mon, it'll be best to be out of the lower decks sooner than later. Who knows how Mazirax will react to Esteban's pestering this morning." Even as they speak, low grumblings from the dragonborn can be heard through the thin wooden walls. Last week, they had to repair said thin, wooden walls because the tabaxi went through it after being "shoved" by the coxswain. The week before that, Esteban sprinted through the halls screaming, chased by both of the twin masses.

Billi's tried to bring up these particular morning shenanigans with their captain, but Svierk only smiles and waves her hand, dismissing it as nothing but fun among crewmates. While the Captain may be correct, it's still agitating to Billi. Ivanca doesn't seem to mind, but she doesn't seem to mind anything that happens around the ship. Gidror either giggles along with Esteban's antics, or is entirely on Mazirax's side. Gidror the damn centrist. Depending on how the dragonborn sleeps, he either pays the tabaxi no mind at all, or has thrown him through the wall within moments–or somewhere in between. Billi tries not to care, but the longer Esteban keeps their resident chef busy, the longer they have to wait for breakfast.

Fair enough. Finn supposed that they usually just ate whatever was put in front of them too. They weren't the most picky or discerning of eaters, though they could appreciate good food when they were lucky enough to eat it. Their skill in the kitchen was limited, but not nonexistent. Plus, if they got in good with the cook, poisoning the crew would be much easier if that was the route they wanted to go. It was beginning to sound very appealing to Finn. There was a much higher likelihood of Finn killing them that way rather than an all-out brawl. Even fighting some of them one on one would prove to be challenging, so Finn certainly couldn't take them all on at once. They were powerful, but not that powerful. Therefore, something completely different from combat would be more effective, they determined.

As they blinked back to reality, they realized that Billi was once again talking. Something about getting out of the lower decks. Finn wondered what exactly Esteban and Mazirax were doing, and what Billi meant by their words, but Finn supposed they would just have to see. So there was some infighting among the crew, though it was hard to tell if it was more playful or something that Finn could use. Perhaps they could try to manipulate the crew into distrusting one another, though with that strategy that required the crew's trust in each other to already be shaky, and it appeared that these people held each other in high regard. Today would be another day of information gathering and plotting, as would several days to come, most likely. This sort of complicated mission would be taken out in just a day or two. This required learning, plotting, working. And Finn would see this through to the bitter end.

Finn realized that they could hear a low grumbling through the walls. They really were very thin, weren't they? Finn wasn't very surprised, since they were more than used to dealing with thin walls or buildings or dubious quality. When one was a mercenary for a living, they couldn't exactly be too choosy. Finn really appreciated anything warm and somewhat soft at this point.

"Sounds good to me," Finn said, realizing they needed to reply to Billi. "Let's go, then."

Billi nods quickly, leading the way out of the sleeping quarters and to the stairs. Since Finn's last presence on the deck, the sun has risen fairly quickly. It now sits half-exposed on the horizon, made of beautiful pink fire to contrast the blooming lavender of the ocean. The skies are mainly clear, just a few long, dark clouds streaking in the sky. Svierk is still below deck in her own cabin. Ivanca and Gidror are sitting next to each other on the quaterdeck, comfortable in silence as they sharpen their large supply of cutlasses and daggers.

Mazirax is right Billi's heels, the large mammoth of a dragonborn huffing out of irritation more than exertion. Esteban is chatting merrily, very calm for their precarious situation. The coxswain has the sorcerer slung over his shoulder like a limp bag of potatoes. Once to the center of the main deck, Mazirax listlessly drops Esteban right onto his plump ass. "To be honest," Mazirax grumbles, wiping his palms against each other. "I really don't care about the affairs of the royal family."

Esteban's jaw drops. "You let me ramble on and on and you weren't listening?"

"No, no, I was," Mazirax corrects. "The only thing I learned from it was that I could not care less about Prince Murph or whatever."

Esteban is quick to stand up, following the dragonborn to the kitchen with a cry of *"his name is Prince Murnh and you should understand the importance of his arranged marriage with Princess–" the tabaxi's voice fades away as the kitchen door closes behind him.

Billi sighs, rubbing their temples. "It's too early for this, I'm sorry." They turn to the warlock. "Is there anything you might need to know before the Captain gets up? As soon as we all eat breakfast, she'll have us all working until we port in the evening."

(sorry it's kinda shit)

Finn watched the scene before them with a bit of intrigue. They weren't really interested in the affairs of the royal family either, but they knew a little about it due to the highly political nature of some of their jobs. It was almost humorous to see someone who genuinely seemed to care what was going on with the royal family right now. As a sort-of pirate, Finn assumed that the others had bigger things to worry about than the arranged marriage of Prince Murnh. Honestly, they were with Mazirax on this one.

As Billi turned to face Finn, they glanced back at the satyr. Finn couldn't think of anything that wouldn't sound suspicious coming from a new recruit, and they definitely didn't want to raise suspicion before they could even put their plan in motion. Perhaps they could try to get some information about where the ship was headed next and what Svierk's plan was, exactly.

"Do you know where we're headed next?" Finn asked after a moment.

Billi shrugs. "That's always up to the coxswain and the captain. We can suggest places, but they only really listen to us occasionally." Billi smiles a little bit at that, but quickly hides it behind their hand. "Esteban still has a bucket list of kingdoms to visit, but we've been exiled from them all. Haven't even stepped foot in most of them." The guard and military generals had all gone off of rumor, following the next kingdom over like a domino chain to plaster their faces across cork boards and tack them to trees.

The door to the kitchen swings open and Esteban exits, still chatting merrily. Mazirax nods from his place in the doorframe. "Very fascinating, Esteban," he states before slamming the kitchen door shut.

"Breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes!" Esteban says with a clap of his hands. His following tone holds no malice, heavily contradicting the words. "It would've been twenty but I've been told I'm a distraction." Billi nods. The tabaxi laughs and approaches the warlock and the bard. "After that, I heard that we're going grocery shopping!" He sings the last two words, doing a small jig in his place. "I can't wait to eat vegetables again. It's a salty, bland, miserable life here at sea." At that, the sorcerer pouts softly, his cat eyes almost widening in size as he wallows.

Finn hadn't really considered the lack of vegetables when initially deciding to take the job and therefore, join the crew for a bit. They supposed it didn't really bother them too much; they'd never had a balanced diet by any means. But after eating much of the same food they supposed vegetables might make them as excited as Esteban was now. The tabaxi was always so lively; it really must be exhausting. He had clearly had a ball chatting up Mazirax instead of allowing the man to make them all breakfast, and while it annoyed Finn, a part of them was a tad endeared as well. They supposed that was just the tone that Esteban's personality evoked from them. Annoyance with a side of endearment. Though it was just the beginning of Finn's time on the ship. Maybe–hopefully–the annoyance would outgrow anything else. It wasn't as if it hadn't before.

Just watching the dynamic between the other crew members was honestly a pretty good way to pass the time. Not only was it insightful to their personalities–any information about the characters onboard this ship would help–it was also entertaining. Though boredom was the least of Finn's problems. They could always practice their magic or something in their spare time. Well, the more harmless spells, anyway. They couldn't imagine what Svierk's response would be if they accidentally blew up part of the ship. No, they would avoid that sort of thing entirely. Finn wasn't completely careless when practicing. At least, not anymore.

Still, Finn was curious as to where exactly these pirates would go grocery shopping. There couldn't be too many ports who would welcome them with open arms, not to mention sell them food. Perhaps they stole it? Finn would just have to wait and see. Though they supposed asking where exactly the groceries came from wasn't overly suspicious. Finn did want food that would be safe to eat, after all.

"Where do you get groceries from, exactly?" they asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Esteban, Ivanca, and the Captain are the ones who usually go get them for us while we mill about. Go sightseeing, pickpocket, strike up a few conversations–" Billi shrugs. "Esteban disguises himself and Ivanca while the Captain follows, just barely out of sight. She's good at that." The swashbuckling rogue of a captain knows her way around nearly every port–they all look the same! She would say as she disappears into the shadow of the nearest stall. Esteban loves a good chat, but isn't always strong enough to control himself–hence where Ivanca comes into play. Her silent, terrifying demeanor is enough to get even Esteban back on track.

"I've gotten especially good at that spell," Esteban gloats, a smug expression crossing his face. "It's helped me get out of… plenty of sticky situations." Billi rolls their eyes as if to say trust us, we know.

Only a moment later, the door to the Captain's Quarters flips open and Svierk–now ready for the day–steps out. Her long maroon hair has been braided down her back, she's wearing full captain attire–including the hat, and the bags beneath her eyes have been hidden with some cosmetic. The Captain pauses for a brief second to take in the sunrise before approaching Billi, Esteban, and Finn. "Mornin' mates," she says, her eyes lingering on Finn only a fraction longer than the others. "Anything you all need from the market?"