forum the Glittering Sea (closed group rp, 6/6)

Started January 11, 2023 by Deleted user

tune

Edit topic

Myriil's eye twitched slightly at Reia's dismissal of his quick lie of 'protecting the storage room', sure it was false, but it was a decent lie! If the ship was boarded by enemies, he'd be there to shoot anyone who got close to any of the cargo. The last line of defense he supposed, but his irritation was quickly washed away by a sense of anxiety as the navigator started looking around the room. She probably thought he'd stolen something and was checking to see if everything was in place, but it seemed like she was looking for something specific..

He refused to show any hint of relief on his face when she gave up, already moving out of the door, taking her other snarky comments in stride. It all seemed fairly good natured for someone threatening to throw him off the ship earlier and what kind of conversationalist would he be if he couldn't take what he dished out? Showing more restraint than he had, Myriil didn't respond to her barbs, simply smiling amiably. He walked in no great hurry, with his hands behind his back, adjusting himself quickly whenever the ship was suddenly rocked by the monumental strength of the firing cannons. The wood elf wasn't bothered at all by the sudden, jerking movements, it was nothing compared to keeping your balance while standing on a desert horse, which was galloping at full speed. He half smiled at the memory, he'd fallen off eventually and fractured his arm, but had won the bet. The wood groaned and men yelled, some running up and down the stairs for more ammo or to take a breather when they got grazed by a stray gunshot. The cacophony of the chaos above was deafening, and Myriil had to resist the urge to cover his ears.

Reia was heading towards the upper deck, likely to continue helping in the fight, and he followed for a moment, before slipping off to the crew's quarters, despite his sarcasm Myriil had been serious about leaving his gun there. He wasn't particularly concerned about it getting stolen, he didn't care much for the thing, judging by the chips in the wood handles and rust spots on the metal. It had someone elses initials carved into it, having been one of the ones handed down as spares for the crew. The old owner was likely dead or disfigured.

Ducking into the room, Myriil had to squint to see in the dim light. The crew's quarters were dark, with no natural light and smelled exactly how you would imagine a room where dozens of unwashed men slept. As he blinked, Myriil's sensitive eyes could make out the shapes of the hammocks strung along the walls, some two or three high, making the most of the usable space in the room. Personal belongings made lumps in the canvas, though no one left anything valuable behind, you carried it on you if you didn't want it stolen. Strolling over to his hammock, Myriil grabbed his guns, fiddling with them for a moment and frowning, then shaking it really hard and seeming content. He had some ammo in a pouch on his belt, along with some other knickknacks.

Passing by the rows of bedding, it was odd seeing no one in the room, usually a few stragglers were hidden in here. An image of Reia yelling popped into his mind and he shuddered, she'd gotten to them first it seemed. Idly he pulled at the fabric, making a few hammocks rock back and forth, sometimes clattering what was inside to the ground. Nothing too interesting, sometimes a cool rock, a piece of flint, a photo of family, or just junk, bottles empty of booze, trash, discarded scraps of fabric. Myriil wrinkled his nose, both at the reek of the room, and at the gaucheness of it all. With just a minor touches, even this mess of a room could be practical and at least somewhat stylish. Really, it can't be that hard..

A little bit of light, move around the hammocks.. Maybe a table there and a rug there.. His musings were interrupted, by a guest to the room. A man with wild eyes and even wilder hair tore around the corner, and rushing inside. They moved with a frantic energy that took Myriil aback and he blinked a few times to make sure they were real. He didn't recognize him immediately, but the smell of soot and gunpowder which assaulted his senses a moment after the man appeared gave away his job at the very least. Giving the man a wide birth, he tried to scoot around them and out the door. They looked busy anyways, and probably didn't need his help, and if he did? Well then that was a desperate situation indeed. All Myriil wanted to do right now was get on deck and make a token performance and then disappear again, maybe chat with the little voice in the storage room some more. Then cheat some of the sailors out of their coins at cards later in the day.

At first, Blaze hadn't noticed the other man in the crew's quarters, making a beeline straight for his hammock to look for any remaining explosives he might have. It may not be the smartest thing to keep explosives in his hammock, but he was not the smartest man when it came to matters of common sense. He often stashed explosives away in a few different places, with his pockets and his hammock being the main ones. Of course, he would need to detonate them for anything to happen, lighting a match and setting it aflame or combining two chemicals together, but it was still probably a major fire hazard to have that sort of thing lying around. Hopefully no one looked into it too closely.

As he started digging through his meager assortment of things, he saw the man that was in there slowly working his way towards the door. Blaze's eyes narrowed. What was he doing here, anyway? There was a battle going on and he seemed to be rifling through other people's things. He paused in his search momentarily, curiosity piqued. Well, that and he would be livid if this person had touched his explosives. He wiped at some soot on his face, turning to face the man.

"You know I can see you, right? Were you going through people's stuff?" he accused, hands still working to find something in the shape of an explosive. Blaze felt a wash of relief at the familiar feel of one, glancing down to make sure that's what it was before palming it. As soon as he made sure this man wasn't stealing things–and certainly not Blaze's things–he would go back up to continue the fight. As Blaze looked back up at the man, he realized that he had certainly seen this man before, though he was not well acquainted with him. Blaze usually did his own thing, though he would have some fun with those he considered friends aboard the ship as well. This man was not someone Blaze knew well enough to consider a friend, and he had seldom seen the man do anything resembling helping in a fight. Hm. Already this was not looking great for his favorability in Blaze's eyes.

Myriil had just snuck around to the door, his hands alighting on the door frame. He pushed down the thought of having to go up. Of having to go up and fight. The feelings bubbled around in his stomach, memories like bile rising to his throat, threatening to spill out into his thoughts. He hadn't realized he'd frozen in the doorway when the voice spoke, he'd forgotten he was here at all, he was somewhere else. He snatched onto the voice, grounding himself, processing the words slowly, turning them over and around in his head, like he would with a curious bauble in his hands.

"You know I can see you, right? Were you going through people's stuff?" It took Myriil just a second to come up with a response this man already seemed to expect from him. Still in the doorway, posed like he was just about to slip out, the wood elf tipped his head back and groaned, like he was caught. Turning on his heel slowly, Myriil faced the gunner, doing his best to smile slyly. He even raised his hands a bit in the air, his eyes twinkling mischievously again in the dim light. Watching him slowly, Myriil tried to make out what the man was getting, some odd shaped lumps that hadn't caught his eye before. It looked like the rest of the junk in the hammocks.

"Going through stuff? I suppose." Myriil spoke morosely, his nose wrinkling up again. "I'd call it.. Relocating though." He paused, realizing how that sounded just a half second too late. He turned his own mistake into indignation, turn his error into the gunners problem. Offence filled his eyes, and Myriil crossed his arms in a huff.

"But I get what you're implying. I didn't take anything." Playing off a hunch, instead of looking angry, Myriil just looked resigned, like this had happened a million times and he was tired of it. His expression said of course he would think that, everyone did, even when it was untrue.
"Everything's still here.. Just- Some of it is on the floor?" It was the truth oddly enough. There was no thrill in stealing from absent men, no hunt or skill there. Taking something while they were watching you like a hawk, slipping a ring from a finger or lifting coins from a pocket. Now there was skill. Myriil found little joy in stealing, he still wasn't sure why he was here, perhaps it was the guilty thrill of doing something you shouldn't. Another boom from above made him suppress a shudder.

Blaze raised an eyebrow, the boom not rocking him in the least. This guy seemed to be telling the truth as far as he could tell, but if he wasn't stealing, what on earth was he doing down here? 'Relocating?' What the hell did that mean? Was he moving people's stuff? What was the point in that? It just seemed needlessly cruel to Blaze.

Blaze huffed out an annoyed sigh. He had little patience for this man right now, though his patience wasn't exceedingly great in general. He needed to get back up above decks and rejoin the fray. His leg bobbed up and down with the anticipation and nervous energy he always got during a fight. He had to make sure nothing had gotten worse. It was his job to defend the ship, after all, and it someone got hurt, Blaze would blame it on himself for being absent. Sure, it was a bit egoistic of him to think he could prevent anyone from gettin hurt, but at least he could be there. He could already feel the future guilt creeping up on him. Whatever. He would end this quickly and leave now that he had what he had been looking for.

"Why in the world you were messing with people's stuff then?" he huffed, ignoring the resignation this man had displayed. If he didn't want people to think he was stealing, perhaps he shouldn't go through their stuff for no reason? "Whatever. I don't have the time right now to argue with you. I'm going back into the fight; do what you want." At that, he strode out of the room, shouldering past the man at the door. Before he went back up though, he paused, turning to face the man again from outside the doorway.

"If you're going to hide from a fight, pick a less conspicuous place next time," he added with an eye roll. He was by no means going to try and force someone to do their duty, but he was clearly more than a little annoyed that this man was shirking his. However, he also figured that trying to force this man to fight would mean Blaze took longer to get back to the fray, and Blaze highly doubted that the man was hiding from battle because he was really good at it.

After that odd encounter, he hurried back to his post, hoping nothing much had happened in the time he was away. Hopefully, another boat had been taken down. And hopefully, no one had noticed his brief absence.

Myriil stuck his tongue out at the gunner when he left, slightly annoyed at the shoulder bump, though he'd done the same not a few minutes earlier to a different man. His annoyance was more at all of the crew for being so willing to throw there lives away for this. For a pirate crew, for the vain hopes of riches. Perhaps that was just the cowardice talking. Growling softly to himself, the wood elf made his way above deck, to help in the fighting. He helped with the rigging, with setting up little barricades for the men to duck behind, and occasionally fired off a shot to make a token of return fire. He didn't aim. He hated guns anyways, give him a good war bow and he'd be able to hit any of their pursuers, no problem.

Mostly he just observed the others fight, seeing the changes leadership had made to the mens stances and tactics. They seemed to mimic their leader like sheep, being more reckless, firing more shots, being more aggressive. Myriil mimicked the stances and threw in a few colorful words at the enemies, but held back on the behavior, he just wanted to go to bed. The loud noises were making his skull rattle.

Whitlock, having reloaded her pistol, smirked to herself. She swore to herself that (for an hour at most) she would be less showy. Aiming for heads instead of boats would be her first try at this- she'd try and sink the boats once they were immobilized. By then she trusted that another boat will be down, at best.

Not bothering to return her gun to her belt, Thalia sprinted out of the room, kicking the door closed. More than enough time had already been wasted.

Thalia arrived back at the quarterdeck, surveying for any change. The other two boats still weren't down. How in the hell were they going to lose these damn officers, the woman thought, more than a little frustrated. She looked at her own crew. A few were injured, withdrawing. Already too close to one dead. The medics are going to have a field day. Captain Whitlock yelled orders that she was hardly paying attention to herself. She sifted through ideas in her mind and landed on one.

"HEY!"

The Captain screamed as she started to fire at her pursuers. "Up here!" She yelled rather idiotically, shooting through the gaps in the banister like she was before. One man down, then two. Again, she yelled for cannons as if that might speed up the process. A few bullets flew over and past her. Thalia beamed mockingly.

She stood up for a better vantage point, and just to continue with her distraction. It was a wonder she hadn't been shot down by then. The boat was rocking so violently now, though, so it was likely more of a difficult target. Thalia laughed like a madman as she fired. When a bullet grazed her shoulder and cut the cloth on her coat she only laughed louder. She hoped to anger the men more than they had her. If she couldn't kill them on the spot, she wanted to at least annoy them. The gunners around her were getting more bold. That was what she liked; what was the point in all of this if you couldn't have fun doing it? She was done arguing with herself. There was no point in it anymore. Every time, the excitement would overtake her and turn her into whatever the hell she was right then.

Reia walked up and down the ship at least a dozen times, yelling at the men and encouraging them to push harder. Her efforts were working. At least somewhat. The men were working twice as hard, but for some reason, they still couldn’t take down the men headed towards their ship. What was this? Some sort of magic? Part of Reia wanted to scoff at the idea, but she was literal siren, so the theory of the men being protected by some sort of spell didn’t seem like a very far fetched idea.

Reia ducked down next to the captain, aiming her gun at the men and firing a few more shots. She stole a glance over at their leader. When the two first met, Reia didn’t know what to think of their new captain. She was younger than the last captain, and their personalities differed in many ways. But, despite her original grievances, Reia eventually began to warm up to the woman. Not only was she a good leader, but an excellent fighter as well.

“Captain, the men… they aren’t going down.” Reia fired a few more shots before she ducked in cover. “Do you think it’s some sort of magic?”

"Magic or not, we're taking these sons of bitches down." The Captain replied, yelling over gunshots and taking a brief moment from shooting to duck back down and aim again. "But it does seem unnatural. Damn cheats." She stood again and continued. Thalia was not too experienced in the way of magic, with a few exceptions. This was not one of those exceptions. She had no idea what kind of spell this could be or how to break it. It seemed too weak to be a sheild. Maybe a sort of luck charm? Whatever it was appeared to be countered best with the weight and force of what was being fired with the cannons.

"I'd suggest you move places," Thalia said to Reia through gritted teeth, dodging more bullets, eyes on as many hands of the men with guns as possible. At least one of them was slowing, breaking off involuntarily from the other. Even if her aim was practiced and skilled, it was difficult to lay a metaphorical hand on these men. Meddling with magic often had its consequences, at least in the captain's experience, so she hoped it would backfire sometime soon. The next thirty seconds would be a nice time for that.

Thalia managed to take two other men down. In the beginning, there were about fifteen per boat; she estimated there were now probably twenty-one of these opponents now. Nineteen as of now. If only she could just sink them! Why did that have to fail? Regardless, the captain of Corusci Maris grinned through these frustrations and impossible difficulties. With all these close-calls her coat would need some serious tailoring. That and something to remove the specks of blood off of a white shirt. Luckily she wasn't getting to scratched up- only one bullet landed in the area of her skin, and even then it just cut through fabric. The woman's bullet injury from the last year taught her absolutely nothing about gun safety or avoiding these kinds of altercations, and it showed.

(aa thank you guys 😭😭 i love drawing her)

As Blaze got back into position, he realized it would likely be much easier to lob the explosive from a different angle. However, he first readied his cannon and fired as the captain commanded it, missing. He cursed again, but was unsurprised considering the many different directions his mind was going currently. He made sure he had a way to light his makeshift bomb before hurrying up to the deck. He tried to find the best vantage point for aiming. He only had one shot at this, so he better make it count.

How were these boats so damn hard to hit? Blaze was annoyed at himself for missing not once, but twice now, but even with him missing, surely more of the enemies should be down at this point. Did they have some sort of magic shield? Well, his cannonball had managed to get through, so hopefully this explosive would too. He squinted, trying to gauge the right angle to throw it. He had never been great at the math it would require to get all of the technicalities right, but he had enough experience with throwing these chemicals that he could at least guess at what was best.

He finally felt satisfied with his positioning, the boat he was aiming for in his sight. Hopefully this would do the trick, or at the very least distract those onboard the ship long enough that the pirates would have the advantage. Blaze felt with their numbers they already should, but that was besides the point. His only job was to keep people safe and for the love of god, take down these assholes. So he took aim, lit the explosive, and threw as hard as he could. That had to be enough. He had quite the arm, and that one had quite the blast radius, so something had to happen. He stared after it, determined to watch its progress until it exploded before he would go back to his post. Come on…

Thalia's eyes narrowed in concentration. When she was aiming for the boats, it appeared to take about three to five bullets to completely break the wood. But even when she was aiming for people, her shots were missing in ways they definitely shouldn't. Not with her aim, anyway.

Something interrupted her focus as she blinked. Instinctively, the captain's arms flew into a crossing, defensive position at the explosion. When she returned to her normal stance, she watched, eyes widened, as one of the two boats were-… burning? A second later she broke into a fierce grin. Not immune to explosives, huh?

"Did you forget you were chasing a pirate ship?" Whitlock called tauntingly. But she wondered who'd fired that at them. There was one gunner in particular that she assumed must have, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember his name. It'd come to her eventually, and she'd congratulate him or something.

For a moment Captain Whitlock stood and watched the burning boat, still beaming at the blazing display- Blaze. Yes, that was his name, wasn't it? Had to be.

(sorry this is a bit short, itll be longer next time!!)

Obeying her captain’s orders, Reia moved to a new spot on the right hand spot on the ship and began to once again fire at the boat. Part of her wanted to give up trying to shoot the men down and use her stored away magic on them instead. Sure, the crew would likely question her about the origin of this magic, but at least they wouldn’t have to deal with the pesky men anymore. She was about to get up and go back into the ship to retrieve it when, suddenly, a force pushed her back. The boat perusing them had burst into flames, and all of the men on it had been killed.

After watching the explosion take place, Reia turned her eyes back towards the crew. She had seen a man using explosives earlier, and once she spotted Blaze, she knew it had been him who blew up the ship.

“Couldn’t have done that earlier, sweetheart?” she teased. “But nice shot. The captain will be pleased.”

Blaze grinned at the attention he was getting. That wasn't why he had launched the explosive, of course, but he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the praise. Hell yeah, that would show the people chasing them! As a woman spoke directly to him, he glanced over at her. He rolled his eyes at her teasing. She looked familiar, what was her name again? Rhea? It was hard to keep people's names straight when there were so many and Blaze only spoke to some of them.

"Next time I'll lead with the explosives then," he responded, torn between annoyance and excitement. Okay, it was mostly excitement. Only one ship to go now. He headed back towards his cannon, once again readying it to fire at the remaining boat. He was just waiting for the captain's orders. He felt pretty proud of himself for being able to take down both of the downed boats so far, but also slightly annoyed with the rest of the crew. Sure, this was his area of expertise, but he couldn't be the only person who was gifted with weaponry? This was a pirate crew, after all. Ah well. Even if he had to be the one to take down all three of the boats, he would. He was confident that he could at least make a dent in the third one if he tried.

He stood like a dog eagerly awaiting a bone, wanting the captain to give the order so he could fire. If Blaze were really feeling threatened, he would fire right away, orders be damned, but usually he was pretty obedient to the captain. Speaking of which, Captain Whitlock had better appreciate him after this. He was working his ass off here and honestly, he enjoyed it. After this fight, he would probably work on some more explosives. He was well and truly out of them now, being too distracted to start another batch recently. But soon he would. All they had to do was win this fight.

Myriil shielded his face with one arm, using the other to block one of his ears, at the raucous sound of an explosion. He winced, squinting at the pursuing ships, watching bits of burning wood chip off and fall into the sea. Fire. He shuddered, it was the natural enemy of any ship, a horrible way to go, caught between burning to death or drowning in your ruined craft. Some small shapes flung themselves into the sea as he watched, choosing their fate themselves. The whole thing caught like a tinderbox, the flames eating away at the wood, even the waterlogged portions, and licking upwards towards the sails, burning away the enemy sailors chances of survival. He didn't want to think about what had been aboard to make that happen. The image of the gunpowder covered individual from below popped into his head, Myriil shuddered again.

Still, it was a good idea, and extremely effective. A similar one popped into his head suddenly, the wood elf stopped in the middle of the deck with the realization. The ships might be magic, but they still had sails, they needed those, they didn't need to take out the whole ships, just stop them from following. He glanced upwards, searching the sky for any motions of life, and was not disappointed. Birds flocked around the Corusci Maris and its following vessels, just one left now. Carrion eaters, waiting in expectation of the dead, many already going towards fallen bodies, before being shied away by crew members.

Myriil wanted this fight to be over with, he was tired, and hungry, and thirsty, so he was being unusually active in his help of the ship. Scurrying just below deck briefly, Myriil took a scrap of fabric from his pouch, he'd been saving it to make into a scarf when he found other pieces of similar colors to sew together, it was about two handspans long and without searching long he found what he wanted. Alcohol, spirits preferably, they could be found without too much trouble on a ship like this. One of the few upsides of being a pirate he supposed. He dunked the cloth in it, the absorbent material greedily soaking up the liquid, deepening its already dark color.

Returning above, he glanced at the sky again, staring hard at a bird not too far away. It was an ugly thing, with stained feathers and a wickedly curved beak, but it would do. The thing was staring hard at one of the injured sailors, beady little eyes bright in expectation of a meal. With a moments concentration, Myriil shut out the noise of the battle, focusing hard on the creature, the bird had a strong will, independent and rebellious, it bucked under his command. But it couldn't resist his will, the creatures mind gave way and after that it was simple to order the bird down with a sharp hand motion. It flopped onto the deck, moving awkwardly on the slick surface, not nearly as elegant as when it was in the air.

"Good bird." He said it absently, working on tying the alcohol soaked fabric around its leg. He searched through his pouch for a minute, before cursing silently.

"Anyone have a match? A lighter?" Myriil shouted into the air, hoping one of the pirates around him owned one They'd have a lighter on them, they were too valuable to be left belowdeck where someone like him could steal them. He just needed a small spark, and perhaps then the chase would be slowed.

Captain Whitlock stared for a moment longer at the fire. Some were escaping the scene, their pursuers. Maybe they'll drown after all, she thought almost excitedly. She turned to Blaze and grinned at him with approval before yet another shot grazed her. Throwing up a gesture, Thalia continued to shoot at Corusci Maris's unwanted shadow. Would they retreat at any point, she thought? Were they allowed to? If they were, the captain spitefully admired their resolve. It was hard to tell if she wanted to finish them off or if she just wanted them out of her sight.

The captain considered for a moment yelling for the cannons another time, but if Captain Ambers's leadership taught her anything, it was not to go too far- well, she didn't learn that- just not to waste supplies when she could. Captain Ambers was a lot more organized than her. From time to time Thalia wondered if she should start captaining more as he did, to carry what he left behind.

But one way or another, these hunters had to go. Thalia never bothered to ask any of her crew about their knowledge in magics… but maybe if they could detect whatever charm was on this little thing? She glanced around, right as she saw that wood elf Ambers recruited. He was flaky, but she couldn't bring herself to mention it to him, mostly because she could almost never find him.

What is he doing? She squinted at him. A bird swooped down, and he was clearly communicating with it. He tied something to it, it was dripping in some liquid substance. "Anyone have a match? A lighter?" Suddenly it clicked. Alcohol.

"Well?" Thalia exclaimed to the people in her immediate surroundings. When only some turned, she shouted again. "Fire! Come on, are we losing them or not?!" The multiple things "fire" meant did not occur to her for a second. As usual, even if it did, she didn't really care about any confusion. Whipping back around she continued to try and hold the last boat off, anger now burning in her chest. How dare they be there that long? They stole their supplies while the village's back was turned, and that was not any of Thalia's concern. Astriz was way too carefree, and way too sensitive.

Myriil's head snapped up sharply at the strong voice, looking for all the world like a bloodhound responding to the call of its master. His eyes focused on a distant point, the pupils dilating then relaxing once or twice, when everything settled down again, a flickering light was shoved in front of his face, held by a grubby hand. The wood elf hissed at the flame, looking up at the person who was holding it out, a man just as grubby as his hand, with a trickle of blood running from a cut near the forehead. They glared at each other for a heartbeat, before Myriil snatched the lighter, holding it to the alcohol soaked fabric.

It took longer than he'd hoped to catch, nothing happened for a moment and then the flames leaped to life. He pulled his hands away quickly, making another hand motion to calm the bird, the flames hadn't reached it yet. His command stilled it, then forced it into the air, Myriil pointed at the other boat. Tangle yourself in the sails. Thrash and shake and burn. It took a moment for it to register with the bird, and another fight of wills, before it took off, the heavy beat of the wings furthering the flames. A small beacon of light against the sky.

Before the bird got out of range, Myriil gave one last command, for the bird to fly in a jagged pattern, making it a harder target to hit and giving more air to the flame. He breathed out softly, standing to his full height, watching the bird fly off. The little tether of his finally breaking off, the bird would follow his final orders, but he couldn't issue anything new at this range. Finally back to his senses, he roughly shoved the lighter back in the sailors hands, baring his teeth at him in a snarl, the closest he'd get to thanks.

Then he ducked, getting back to the "fight", though with one ship left they only ran the risk of getting hit with the larger shot. Otherwise they were fine, the deck was calming down.

Realizing that the cannons were much more effective than their guns, Reia left her weapons behind and went towards the cannons. She eventually managed to get ahold of one, and while Reia’s aim wasn’t the greatest, she still knew the basics of how the cannons works. It took a while, but eventually, the final remaining ship caught fire from one of the explosives. Its burning masts so lower and lower until the flames finally vanished underneath the dark water.

For a few moments, Reia didn’t know how to react. Sure, they had defeated the enemy, but the ship had sustained plenty of damage from the bullets and the cannonballs that had been fired into it. Damage that she would likely have to assess to see if they needed to stop and get it repaired. However, despite these few shortcomings, Reia still cheered and clapped along with the rest of the crew, rejoicing over their enemy’s defeat.

Like any pirate crew, the crew on board the Corusci Maris loved to celebrate their victories with one thing and one thing only: booze. Reia, unlike many of the others, wasn’t a huge drinker, so she began to gather up her belongings so that she could head to the Captain’s Quarters and finish up with her work.

Thalia screamed with childish glee as the last boat went down, roaring with laughter and pumping her fist into the air. The fire reflected in her eyes while she watched the final boat sink. Perfect.

She turned to her crew. Cheering with her, most of them. Many were injured, shot. Were any dead, she wondered for a moment? No, couldn't be. Thalia would know. She felt as if she were part of a family when it came to that crew, which was one of the little things she and the previous captain had in common. I'd know.

"Well done!" Thalia said, feeding the excitement. It was a disturbingly narrow escape, but an exciting one nonetheless. She made her way to Blaze.

"You!" The woman grabbed his shoulder. "You did nice, very nice. Blaze, was it? Excellent." The pride in her voice reflected her appreciation, her eyes intense but not intimidating, not intentionally.

"Myriil!" She let go of Blaze's shoulder and called to the wood elf, hopefully before he'd run off again. She wanted to speak to him, at least for a moment, to praise him. Maybe if he felt appreciated he'd be present around the ship.

Myriil watched the final ship go down with a blank expression on his face. His cobbled together plan had worked and he was watching the fruits of his labor. The flame licked greedily at the sails, too far up for the sailors to get to them in time, frantically scrabbling across the deck in search of anything to save themselves. Some of them were viciously deformed, faces shredded into pieces and skin into ribbons from the millions of splinters of wood shot out from their neighboring craft when they'd gotten hit. Cannonballs would be so much less effective weapons if it weren't for the buckshot spray of their own ship.

The wood elf watched the flames for a moment longer, before turning away, glancing curiously at the celebrating crew. The libations would start soon and in maybe an hour the crew would be inebriated enough that they wouldn't even remember that they weren't supposed to play cards with him anymore. He could probably score a decent nest egg before the drunk sailors realized he was cheating. The smart players didn't play with him to see who would win, they played with him to see if they could catch him in the act. That was the real game.

Or maybe he'd go chat with the little voice in the hold, bring a tiny tin cup full of water or something. Maybe he could swipe them a whole flask..?

Myriil mulled it over for a minute, shoving his hands in his pockets, pushing… something around the deck with his foot. His instructions to the bird earlier had been draining, he hadn't had to do that in a long minute. A little ache for the forests of home reawakened and then slept again as Myriil watched the celebrations. And in the midst of it, shining brighter than a candle and as dangerous as a wildfire, was the Captain herself. She was radiant, in an unstable sort of way the light of the burning ship a backdrop illuminating her. He turned away.

Resolving to go below deck and hide for a couple hours Myriil was finally moving to make his dream reality, when he heard his name called. Spinning around a flash or irritation in his eyes and a smile on his face, Myriil faced down Thalia, who was standing near the smoky individual. Smirking, Myriil bowed twice, two short bows to the left and to the right, using the best of his training and social skills to look as insufferable as possible.

"Yes, Oh Captain, my Captain? The prize we sought is won. Our very lives is our plunder… Along with all the goodies in the hold I suppose." Myriil quoted off the top of his head, both cringing inwardly at his words and being slightly pleased with just how annoying he sounded. Maybe they'd decide he wasn't worth the energy.. Or he'd have to remember some shanties for the crews entertainment again. He shuddered, nope, wasn't doing that again.

After the last ship went down, Blaze was pleased to see the captain go straight to him. He grinned at her, happy to be of service. It was his job to protect the ship, after all.

"Heh, thanks!" he responded to the praise, beaming. He didn't even notice the mess of gunpowder on his hands and face. Quickly after that interaction, Thalia made her way to the not-thief. Myriil. So that was his name. He didn't look as chipper as everyone else on board, and Blaze wondered if that was due to some sort of peaceful nature, though it may have to do with Myriil's reluctance to get involved instead. Blaze had found him belowdecks, messing around while most everyone else was fighting.

As Myriil spoke, Blaze hoped that he was being ironic. If not, well, that was definitely something that the shifter found a bit cringeworthy. He had never been good at hiding his emotions, and his annoyance with the man was no exception. His brows knit together slightly as he tried to decipher how serious Myriil was being. He was ready to go drink in celebration.

Captain Whitlock was briefly taken aback by Myriil's words but figured he was being ironic.

"Uh.. ha! Well, I was just wanting to congratulate you. That was a close call." Thalia would have slapped Myriil on the shoulder or something, but there was a bit of a height difference that made her feel awkward. "Maybe you could pull something like that next time, hm?" She added somewhat jokingly. Having a stronger magic-user on the ship would definitely be useful, if he showed his face more often.

Now that the thrill of battle was over- or rather, burning and sinking in the distance- the woman was eager to find a new temporary excitement, like her crew. Kegs and barrels were already being set up, along with the long tables they used for "banquets". "Banquets" were just the last meal of the day, and usually didn't have that much liquor involved, but Thalia had already expressed before the stop that she'd want a celebration for a successful robbery. She walked past the men and descended the stairs to the main deck. The sky was beginning to dim. By the time the drinking was over it'd be completely dark. Sometimes it concluded with the captain too drunk to continue, and on a normal day, it would conclude with her ordering everyone to call it a night. Something told Thalia that that night's end might not be the latter.

Thalia Whitlock held an empty wineglass in her hand, smiling and waiting for everything to be set up.

If there was one part of being on a pirate crew that Reia hated, it was the constant celebrations. Like any other crew, the men and women on the Corusci Maris were known for their drinking and partying. Reia didn’t mind have a shot of whisky here and there, but it was the partying she utterly despised. Less because of the social aspect of it and more because of her siren nature.

For a majority of the time, Reia tried to ignore the noise coming from the upper deck, but tonight was different. They had just scored a major victory, and Reia had helped. It only felt right for her to join in the celebration. So, after a bit of hesitation, Reia went back to the sleeping quarters, threw on a clean shirt, and headed upstairs to join in with the banquet.

As soon as she reached the upper deck, the heavy smell of booze assaulted her senses. Her head throbbed from the loud shouting and chattering of the other crew mates, but she still forced herself to sit down among the others to enjoy the festivities. While she did start enjoy herself, there was still one human tradition that she didn’t quite understand: dancing. Humans seemed to love it, but Reia couldn’t quite wrap her mind around how they danced around the deck without stepping on each other’s feet.

Myriil grinned brightly at the words of the Captain, and the moment she turned away he had a quieter, smaller moment of triumph as the smile disappeared . He wasn't planning on helping out much anymore, he'd drawn too much attention to himself already, it would be wise to lay low until the next port, where he'd slip off. Lacking his original agreement with Captain Ambers it was dangerous to stay.

The wood elf hooked his finger around an empty wineglass, holding it loosely in one hand and adjusting his gait to be slightly tilted and off balance, a dopey smile on his face. He started towards the belowdeck, making sure to laugh once or twice at a spectacle, staring at the stars, or bump into someone else.

Somewhere a sailor had dug out a harmonica and was starting on a jaunty tune, others clapping their hands to a rhythm, seemingly others looking around for their own instruments. With the music as encouragement, and alcohol to loosen any shame several started to dance. The warm fading light of the sunset filled the sky, making everything look inviting and warm.

Myriil hesitated before leaving, giving a glance at the festivities. He'd always loved music, he could feel the beat pounding in his ears and shaking the air, could hear a pirate with a little string lute pluck out sounds to add to the chorus, only slightly off-tune. the itching feeling in his legs urged him to move, but he did his best to shake it off, heading downstairs and filling the wineglass with water. Anyone he passed now would see an elf who looked liked they'd had far too much to drink too early and was looking for a place to pass out.

He headed for the cargo hold. With luck, he'd get another response. Myriil briefly wondered if he should let the Captain know, gut instinct told him he should, so obviously he ignored it for now. Poking his head in, it seemed like everyone had gone upstairs, good. Tapping on the wineglass with a fingernail, letting the noise ring out, Myriil spoke in a soft voice, though being heard was nigh impossible with all the ruckus above.

"Hey! Thirsty?"

Tao moved and shifted around while everyone was fighting on deck. He was trying to block as much of the noise as he could. And yet, every shot fired made him jump. At one point he even managed to climb out from under the pile of sacks, beads of grain falling out of his hair as he stood up.

Tao almost dove back under the pile once when it almost sounded like someone was coming down, but he must have misheard when none appeared. He wandered over to the other side of the hold to where there were more barrels than boxes and bags. He opened the tap on one and cool water streamed out. He splashed some onto his face before shutting it off again.

he climbed around on top of the barrels, thanking himself for his small frame and light weight. He was standing on top of one near the back of the pile when he heard footsteps coming down. Quikly he his behind the barrel he was standing on and prayed that whoever it was was just grabbing something and would leave. Tao watched a man move to about where Tao had been before and tap an empty cup with a fingernail. "Hey!, Thirsty?" the man called out. Tao held as still as he could, not daring to even breathe. His mind went to the small puddle of water left over from the barrel and gringed. If the man saw it, he would most certainly see him too.

By sunset, Thalia'd had a couple shots of rum, and was now holding an entire bottle of ale. She was only tipsy, but her sometimes uncontrollable laughter was a loud sign of the mildest of her intoxication. Although her speech was not yet slurred, it was certainly walking that line, and it was getting difficult to pronounce an "S" properly.

It delighted her to see members of Corusci Maris excited (a lot of them drunk). Even that woman, Reia came out from her usual work. That and alcohol made her more confident and boisterous than usual, which many thought to be impossible.

Thalia spoke to her crew about past battles, some parts largely exaggerated, perhaps unknowingly, and some details brushed off as if they were nothing. Once she felt bored with telling half-truths she stood, back leaning against the banister. The music was… acceptable, to anyone paying attention. To her, it was perfect. But she was starting to feel antsy again. Shifting her weight to stand fully on her feet, the captain took a moment to assess her balance. Once she'd confirmed that she wasn't yet too intoxicated, she thanked her tolerance in a mumble to herself and strode to a table. Then stood on it.

The captain of Corusci Maris swayed for a second as she rose, but quickly gained her balance again.

"Have you all never used your damn voish-" Thalia quickly corrected herself. "Voices before?" She called out, grinning.

(it is now time for me to look up sea shanties. good luck and im sorry to every fictional character on the ship right now)

Myriil turned his head, listening to the air, trying to hear noises above all the scuffling and muffled thuds of footfalls. Not getting a response, he pursed his lips with mild annoyance. Walking quietly to the water barrel, he decided to top off the glass, maybe the little voice would come out if it heard running water…?

Stepping over, Myriil put his hand to the tap and paused, head cocking to the side. The floor was slick. He wasn't getting the same traction as with normal wood. When he looked down a small puddle was under his foot. He chuckled, feeling highly amused. Of course they'd find a way.. He'd been foolish to think their stowaway didn't have access to water. He still wasn't quite sure how ships worked and wasn't doing much to learn. He lifted his foot, shaking it gently, flinging drops of water.

The action made him look up, spotting a tuft of hair, maybe a hint of an elbow peeking out from the side of a barrel. Myriil blinked, his eyes rounding. Gods.. That was a child. They were too small to be anywhere near full grown, and the skin didn't have the same texture of a halfling or dwarf. Taking a slow step backwards, he slowly lowered himself to sit on a barrel just opposite from their hiding place, his left foot resting on his right thigh, free hand wrapping around his ankle.

"Guess I caught you unawares, huh?" He took a sip from the glass of water, his voice friendly and light. "Wasn't expecting your little voice to match your stature though." Myriil chuckled softly, he didn't seem to be taking the situation too seriously, but his mind was racing with things to do. He definitely had to tell the Captain now. It wasn't safe for a child on a pirate ship. Myriil would be the last to claim he had any paternal instincts, but even his loose morals couldn't in good conscious ignore this. He tugged on his earring, fiddling with the soft feather material, trying to find something to do with his hands. This was tricky. How did you talk to children?? Were they just mini-adults? Or did you have to be all gentle? His own childhood wasn't giving him any pointers. You'd think being a child once would have given me more experience.

Tao held his breath as the man flicked water off his shoes. he was unlike any of the villagers or people he had ever met, but his experience with people was more than a little sad.
"I-I don't know what you want me to say."
Tao answered, his head slowly showing up above the top of the barrel.

He knew he was taking a risk showing himself to this man, even though he had obviously already seen him. Sometimes people would freak out or get mad when they first saw him. He clutched his elbows and tried to smile at the man. Hoping that he wouldn't get mad and hurt him.

"I-" He started before realizing the man was fidgeting and stopped. Was he nervous? Tao thought confused. Why would he be nervous? He's not the one who was caught stowing away on a ship.

"Why are you nervous?" Tao asked loosening up and gaining a bit of confidence.