Red Eye grinned at Sally and gave a quick two-finger salute as he and Ace returned to the deck. The woman responded with a roll of her neck and her shoulder at the same time, both joints cracking in a rehearsed motion. Her joints had the habit of creaking as she moved and it was the main reason she wasn't stealthy. It was very hard to move unnoticed when your knee was louder than the floor boards. Sally lunged at Cephilia, grasping her by the ear and began to walk towards Red Eye and Ace. "Fun fact, it only takes two pounds of force to rip an ear clean off. It's a good thing I still have my dominant hand." Removing a useless lump of flesh was useless in combat, however, as an intimidation technique, it worked damn well. She didn't have any qualms against using it either. "Red Eye, ever heard of Sabrina Gelvina?" The pirate's eyes widened and a smile crossed his face. "Sabrina Gelvina! A few years ago, just saying that name was enough to get a body part lopped off. She was a perfect terror, a true smuggler's queen." He leaned down over Ace in a manner of exaggerated conspiracy. "It was her that got the Ocean Crown out of the Athanak islands, you know. I remember one time she even shipped an entire ship of jade statues from those temples up north, the ones that look like dogs or something. Of course, that ship went down mysteriously in flames..." He smiled in pleasant recollection. "After she disappeared a few years back, most assumed she was dead," he continued. Then he gazed over at Sally and grinned. "I suppose that was true, in a manner of speaking." "Before that, I think it was..." Sally paused, tilting her head to the side slightly and staring up. "I think it was Shelly Smith, that was a fun one. Nothing like rowing through the imperial fleet at night to remove a dead whore from the admiral's bed chambers. Before that it was Silvia of The West. Turns out you have to travel pretty far east to get that name." Ah these were bringing back memories. Prison breaks and daring escapes. Cleaning up noblemens' messes and profiting off little more than a fast ship and the ability to use it. However, she had picked up on a certain pattern. Famous smugglers had their throats slit. A pirate held fear to their name on premise. She was merely a delivery girl who was willing to do what others weren't, and that lead to making enemies. A person who did deliveries shouldn't have enemies. And that led her to consistently altering her name once it had enough fame. Not to mention cutting her hair and dyeing it. Fortunately she'd gotten back round to her natural colour. "I think I might have technically worked with you before." She commented, looking at her partner in intimidation. Red Eye was silent for a moment. Then laughter shook his shoulders. "I suppose I should thank you for your excellent timing! That boat of yours saved me from having to take a long, cold swim. Then again, if the guards weren't in such a tizzy from hunting down the duke's killer they might have discovered you and your cargo right away. I suppose that makes us even. ...Or it might, if the boat hadn't inexplicably burned to ashes." Ah, memories. Sally glanced at him for a long moment before returning her attention to the others. "To put it simply. I've done a lot. Things even I, with my morally low standards, would not be proud of. Most of them I've done without violence. Misinformation, regular information at the wrong time, and just straight up lies. The things with violence though." A wild spark appeared in her eye, the type that whispered of things best left unsaid for the good of all. "Well, I'll leave that to your imagination."
Captain Blast smiled at Elva and Cephilia, but it was obviously forced. His dark eyes were still filled with despair. "I just take it one day at a time, I guess," he said with a dry, humorless chuckle. Anya went to his side, almost gliding with natural grace, and held his face without speaking. They looked at each other with profound love and sadness. Billy Bones finally looked up from his mug. "He's coming," he said in rough voice. His eyes were closed but they could see his pupils rapidly looking back and forth. "Quickblade will slice and impale and behead every last one of us. And for Captain Blast, he plans to cut off your skin, nice and slow, and let you bleed out. He's coming. He's coming." "Well, then!" Captain Blast said, all business. "We don't have any time to waste. Everyone, hold on to something. We're headed to Pirate Bay." He scampered up to the wheel, practically skipping in his haste, a true look of terror on his face. "Pirate Bay is that dirty place we saw in Shekinah's magic ball," Blast rambled. "It had another name at some point, but it was overrun by all manner of criminals, and now it's a safe place for pirates to dock and drink and be merry." It was obvious that he was blabbering to distract himself from his inner turmoil. Then, without delay, he yanked the lever and the whole ship jumped and shot forward. They skimmed over waves and flew at terrible speeds. At one point something large and gray reared out of the waters next to them, but they flew by it before they could see its exact shape. The ship jerked to a stop and they could see a dark smear ahead of them. It was still too far away to make out any details, but the sooty haze that hung over the city was clearly visible. "We should make it there by nightfall," Captain Blast said. "Get ready for anything."
Red Eye released his grip on the rigging as the ship slowed back to a gentler pace. He found he rather enjoyed the feeling of flying through the air as the turbines roared, separated from a quick trip into deep water only by the strength of his fingertips. What fun! Though Pirate Bay was still some ways away, the smog that choked the sky above it made it clear even from this distance that the town was at least somewhat industrialized. Cephilia ought to be pleased by that. He made a mental note to tag along should she go looking for materials or facilities; there were a few ideas he wanted to consult with her on. For the moment, though, they were still some ways away from docking and he needed something to entertain himself. His eye fell on Billy Bones as the man headed below decks, presumably to wind up the turbines once more. That would work. Catching up with the fellow, he threw an arm around his shoulder and began walking alongside. "Allow me to keep you company, my good fellow! We haven't had the chance to properly get to know each other yet, have we?" He leaned in obnoxiously as they made their way down. The turbine room was a marvelous sight. The device filled almost the entire space, its shining metal components a sharp contrast to the murky wood of the walls and ceiling. To one side a small workbench was built into the wall, cramped with drawers filled with bolts and greasy widgets of indeterminate function. Though rough-hewn and rather random in its organisation, it was clearly well-used. Presumably it was the base of operations for the impressive machinery's maintenance and repair. Red Eye took a seat next to the bench as Billy Bones began the tedious process of winding a large crank; the room vibrated with the clanking of gears and springs as he worked. "So Bones," he said conversationally, raising his voice to be heard over Billy's efforts, "that's quite the talent you've got. Must be handy to see a fatal shot coming before the gun is even loaded. Or can you only see a death that is about to happen? Could you predict my death?" He leaned forward, eager curiosity glittering in his eye.
When the one-armed bandit nabbed her by the ear and hauled her before Ace, Cephilia expected some form of conflict resolution: a stern talking-to, a lecture, a firm demand that they ‘hug it out.’ The latter wasn’t an entirely unappealing prospect; Cephilia found Ace’s moral fiber severely lacking, but he was handsome enough. But, no, none of those things happened. No mediation. No de-escalation of hostilities. Instead, Asara decided this would be a perfect time to grandstand. Cephilia listened to it all, with the patience of a mossy stone. She thought the woman might go on bragging about herself indefinitely. Fortunately, Blast fired up the turbines and silenced them all. When the ship lurched, Cephilia looped an arm around Asara’s waist and held tight to the railing with her other, so the one-armed fool didn’t topple over amidst all the ruckus. Whether she did this out of compassion or because she knew aid would infuriate the woman was anyone’s guess. It just… happened. When things settled down, Cephilia released her and spoke in a calm, even tone, laced with disappointment and boredom, rather than anger. After all that had happened, she was emotionally drained and all out of damns to give. She had long ago realized the futility of arguing with a woman who burned so many bridges that she felt the need to change her name every few years or months or days. It was only by some miracle that she was still 'Sally.' “You know, for a moment there, I actually thought you were going to act like a proper quartermaster,” Cephilia said. “Instead, you gathered us here to watch you stroke your nonexistent cock. If only I had a measuring implement, I could’ve saved you from wasting your breath. Yours is HUGE, dear. Congratulations.” She added a small, condescending round of applause before turning to leave and got about half a step before she stopped and wheeled around again, this time to face Ace. “Oh, and one more thing.” Cephilia stuck out her hand, palm up. “Gimme your shirt. Now.” An awkward silence followed. “Don’t look at me like that. Not the one you’re wearing, the ripped one. I wish to mend it. I can sew, you know. I’m a proper lady –sometimes-- and you said it was your favorite, so give it here.”
Billy Bones gave Red Eye a withering glare. "I can only see when death is near," he growled in response. "And it ain't no picnic. You don't know half the things I've seen, young buck. I can't even walk down a street without seeing death all 'round me." He went quiet for a moment and started winding the crank with a passion, his impressive biceps bulging and the engines creaking mightily. "It's been happenin' to me for as long as I could 'member, even as a toddler," Billy Bones continued in a quieter tone. "No kid should see the things I see. I started drinkin' early in life to deal with my visions. When it got really bad, I ran down the street screamin' at people, tellin' them the ways they were about to die. I was thrown in jail plenty of times. One day, I got thrown in the same cell as Captain Blast. I helped him break out and we've been partners ever since." Billy Bones had finished winding the turbines. He huffed and sat on the ground, leaning against the wall. "Sometimes I wish I could quit this pirate business," he murmured. "I just want to be happy. That's all I ever wanted..." He trailed off and abruptly fell asleep.
There is something awe-inspiring about an epic man giving in to his despair. Sadly, it’s also one of the worst things you can do in front of your men, or women in this case. It is very sensible to make sure they do not underestimate the opponent, but there is absolutely no use in making them afraid of him. A man’s reputation is half his armour. That is why there are still knights in the Lovelace estate. A common soldier will falter when facing a man he knows has proven himself legendary. When facing a man like Quickblade this is quite unavoidable, but when your own captain adds to that legend with true mortification, his men don’t stand a chance. I had half a mind to say it out loud, but that would be one of the worst things a subordinate could do. Besides, he had it rough enough as it was. I guess a part of me always wondered what Anya looked like when she was still in love with that one man that vexed her so. It was truly heart-warming. And then there’s the good old One Armed Stranger, making a bad situation worse. Apparently she’s been given some important position in the crew and felt the need to establish that position with a show of force, completely missing the tension of the moment. I’m slightly surprised Cephilia’s firearm didn’t ‘accidentally’ go off after what she’s been through. And then there was the point of our current destination. Four years ago a place called ‘Pirate Island’ would have come right after ‘Cursed Island’ on a list of places I hoped to avoid in my life. Still, so far these people haven’t been all bad. Maybe it is time to face some of my prejudices. Ah! Nothing like hurling through the air on a super-powered pirate ship to process recent events.
"Yours is HUGE, dear. Congratulations." Cephilia snapped at Asara. Ace couldn't help but laugh, "You know, that's the first you've said that I've agreed with." She began walking off but then turned on the spot and stared straight at Ace with a softened stare, holding out a palm, "Gimme your shirt. Now." An awkward silence followed. "Don't look at me like that. Not the one you're wearing, the ripped one. I wish to mend it. I can sew, you know. I'm a proper lady - sometimes - and you said it was your favourite, so give it here." This had been unexpected, especially in the light of her anger towards him and his thieving tricks. "Sure, I'll grab it a little later." He said softly. It was an olive branch and Ace didn't want to do anything to snap or harm it. The shirt was not his favourite by any means, but Ace wasn't about to tell her that and instead accepted her kind gesture. By nightfall they had found themselves closing in on Pirate's Bay, and Ace had locked himself back in his room to swig another whiskey or two. He leaned out of his rickety window and saw the island ahead, it's smog oozing across the sea. The moon tried to shine it's waxing light through, but the sooty black caused it to smudge across the sky. Ace smiled. The calm before the storm. With one final sip of whiskey he pulled himself back in and started gearing up, a look of purpose and determination on his face. It's time to get that map.
Sally waited for the pair to walk off together, before turning to Red Eye. She placed one arm behind her back, her posture composed yet relaxed at the same time. "Humans are fundamentally stupid aren't they?" In all her life, the smuggler had formed three universal truths. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Always have more guns instead of bigger ones. And finally, if ever forced to make a bet on which is larger, the entirety the ocean, or the great void of intelligence created by all the idiotic moments, choices and words done by her own species, always bet on the latter. The best way to get people to cooperate was not to convince them that mutual cooperation was the most beneficial, but to provide them with a common figure to unite against, either in fear or derision. And Cephilia had started swearing, that was progress. By the end of this she might be a morally reprehensible character, that would be fun to see. Sally didn't threaten, plead, or even ask for them to work together. And now the little lady was repairing the man's clothes. It made her wonder what would happen if she put some effort into things. "I hope the people I mentioned are actually dead as well. Otherwise we might be in trouble. Anyway, once we're in the bay, how about we go get a drink, see if we can find someone to get me a new arm, and then have some fun?"
Cephilia made her way below decks and through the engine room. Unfortunately, she found her lair filled with visitors. Well, ‘filled’ was something of a relative term. When she was in the mood to tinker, one person was too many. Two was a crowd, even if one was fast asleep. She liked to be alone and immerse herself in her work. Good luck doing that will Billy Bones’s snoring rattling the shutters. She wove through the machinery until she reached the workbench, where Red Eye had decided to make himself comfortable. Odd, he didn’t seem like the sort of fellow who knew his way around a wrench. He was the kind of man who ‘had people’ for that. Maybe it was time she got an actual room on this ship, instead of camping on a hammock in the engine room, like some kind of homeless mad scientist. The salty sea air was doing a number on her well-kept blonde curls, turning them into a frizzy mane; at this rate, she’d look the part soon enough. “Poor fellow,” she whispered as she removed her coat and laid it over Billy. “Sleep well.” It did little to muffle the snoring and probably wouldn’t do much for warmth either, but it was better than nothing. “Anyway, I see I have company,” she said, turning to Red Eye, who was a little too close to her workstation for comfort. Wait, when had it become her workstation? Two days on this boat and she was already staking claims. “Have you come to drink away your troubles with Mr. Bones or is there some issue with the ship’s munitions I can help you with?” As she spoke, she dug into her pockets and retrieved the metal disc she had used during Syra’s attack. It was slightly larger than the palm of her hand. Tiny cutouts on each face showed it was packed with planetary gears. A seemingly impossible number of rivets held the two sandwiched halves together, as if the tiny device was built to withstand brutal amounts of force. Unknown to Red Eye, it contained a coil spring that, when fully wound, was powerful enough to lift a horse, its rider and maybe a carriage with a fat nobleman inside. And his luggage, too. Unfortunately, it was not wound right now and the process of winding it involved a very long bar and a lot of grunting and swearing. I’ve had enough of that for one day, Cephilia thought as she pulled up a seat at the workbench and considered how she might improve upon this handy little device, no longer caring that Red Eye was watching. She cared little if he, or anyone else, knew her secrets. If anything, seeing her work might make him realize she was more useful to him alive than dead. Maybe pirates would stop trying to one-up one another if they realized they were capable of far greater things by working together.
"Anyway, once we're in the bay, how about we go get a drink, see if we can find someone to get me a new arm, and then have some fun?" Red Eye shot a quick grin back at Sally as he followed after Bones. "Sounds like a fine evening to me!" he replied. He rather liked how Sally had manipulated the whole situation. She'd made herself look an obnoxious, blustering fool to the others and united them against her in the process. So she could be a team player after all! How pleasantly unexpected. ----- Down in the engine room, Red Eye watched Cephilia cover Bones with her cloak. She was one of those tiresomely predictable virtuous people. Tell that type there was a kitten in a burning building and they'd trample themselves in the rush to be first one in. Normally that type of person bored Red Eye to tears, but Cephilia's technical knowledge and skill rather impressed him. It was a talent worth observing, and possibly keeping alive. “Have you come to drink away your troubles with Mr. Bones or is there some issue with the ship’s munitions I can help you with?” Cephilia addressed him curtly as she set to work at the bench, adjusting some handheld device of unknown function. Red Eye knew he was probably uncomfortably in her personal space but did not move more than was necessary to give her proper access to the bench. "Just thought I'd have a quick word with Master Bones here, while awaiting a chance to speak with your illustrious presence." He smiled and nodded his head to her. "I've an interest in making some adjustments to the ship's armaments, and you seemed just the person to consult." He watched her fidget with the disk thing, making complicated gestures and tweaks he couldn't begin to understand. It was fascinating. He knew just enough about mechanical things to maintain his own pistol, plus a few odds and ends of information he'd collected here and there. Cephilia was clearly leagues ahead of such pedestrian information. "Quite the talent possessed by Bones here, isn't it," he said at length, with a nod to the recumbent figure slumbering beneath Cecilia's coat. "It's the sort of thing that tends to weigh heavy upon an otherwise healthy mind - not that I've much personal experience with healthy minds." He laughed quietly. "It's a pity. That's the sort of burden that might make a person unlike any other, if they can only rise above it. But so often it's the case that they're instead crushed underneath. How terribly predictable." He returned his gaze to Cephilia, then. "Funny how most folks assume members of the nobility haven't any real burdens. I wonder if you might know anything about that?"
"Just thought I'd have a quick word with Master Bones here, while awaiting a chance to speak with your illustrious presence." He smiled and nodded his head to her. "I've an interest in making some adjustments to the ship's armaments, and you seemed just the person to consult." “Oh?” Cephilia said, in the distracted manner of one who isn’t really listening. She barely heard him. All she could think about is how to fit lower gearing inside that tiny disc. A lower gear ratio would sacrifice rotational speed for torque, giving her enough mechanical advantage to recoil the main spring without needing a giant metal bar If she geared it low enough, she might be able to recoil it using the hand crank on her sword, allowing the device to be used more than once. She could permanently affix it to the hilt and use it all the time. Maybe she could add some type of clutch mechanism to smooth its engagement so it didn’t try to rip her arm off every time she triggered it. Oh, this was going to be fun! Cephilia took out a big hammer and started tapping out the rivets so she could get at the device’s internal bits and really get this party started…. Meanwhile, Red Eye was still talking. Oops. He laughed quietly, presumably at the punchline to a joke she’d missed. "It's a pity. That's the sort of burden that might make a person unlike any other, if they can only rise above it. But so often it's the case that they're instead crushed underneath. How terribly predictable." Umm, what is he talking about? “Right, of course,” Cephilia said, so as not to be rude. "Funny how most folks assume members of the nobility haven't any real burdens,” Red Eye added. “I wonder if you might know anything about that?" “I find… those in the upper echelons of society… are above the burdens of the common folk,” she said rather matter-of-factly, speaking between the light tapping of her hammer. “So… we make our own.” At last, Cephilia stopped her work and turned to face him. The subject matter was worthy of her full attention. “I would ask what has prompted this line of inquiry, but I suspect I already know: you are bored.” She smiled. “Tread lightly, Master Hawking. Boredom is one of the few burdens unique to the nobility. I, for one, have battled it all my life.”
Traveling on a ship with turbine engines reminds me a bit of my first time on a galloping horse. The first time he started, I was terrified, grabbed tightly unto the harness and prayed for him to stop. The second time however, though still scary I knew what was going to happen, so it also had something exciting, something thrilling. When the horse stopped, I almost couldn’t wait for it to start again. It’s been a long day. Now would probably be a good moment to find out if there is also a place for me to sleep on this ship. However, Blast and Anya are still busy being the most adoring couple I’ve ever seen and although She Who Would Not Be Named seemed rather smug about Cephilia’s outburst, I’d rather avoid her for the moment. The look on Wolfman’s face is still a bit too fresh in my mind. Maybe I should just take this opportunity to scout the ship below deck. Of the six cabins only one seems currently in use. Ace was enjoying a little peace and quiet in the company of a bottle of rum. I wouldn’t mind joining him, but I think he could use some time alone after everything that happened on deck. A little math quickly points out that there are at least as many crewmembers as there are cabins, so even if Anya and Blast share a room I’ll have to find some other place to lie down. Perhaps the engine room has a corner where I can be out of the way and get some rest. As I near the stair further down into the belly of the ship, I realise this might be the busiest part of the ship. The man with the ruby in his eye went down with the short man with the terrifying Talent. Billy Jones? I wasn’t really paying attention when the captain shouted his name. Anyway, he was probably the source of the heavy snoring sound clearly audible over Ruby Eye and Cephilia’s conversation. “I would ask what has prompted this line of inquiry, but I suspect I already know: you are bored. Tread lightly, Master Hawking. Boredom is one of the few burdens unique to the nobility. I, for one, have battled it all my life.” “Boredom unique to nobility? You’ve obviously never been on night watch before.” I laughed. I had planned to turn around and let them alone. Mr. Hawking might have had a small power nap, but when Cephilia went down she did not look to be in the mood for company. Sadly, my mouth worked faster than my brain again.
The sun was low in the sky when the Vengeful Maiden neared Pirate Bay. The grimy, decrepit buildings that lined the docks looked abandoned, but they could see drunken folk stumbling in and out of them, singing and laughing and hanging on to each other to keep from falling over. Several buildings in the distance were on fire and no one was putting out the blazes. There was also the overwhelming stench of urine, mildew, and something undefinable that exuded from the derelict city and washed over the Vengeful Maiden. And directly in front of them was the largest, cleanest boat in the docks: Captain Spark's boat, easily identifiable by the red-and-white striped sails. It was outfitted with large canons as well as eight metal tubs that stuck out of the back of the ship. The metal tubes were steaming quietly, as if they were cooling down. The boat was seemingly abandoned, except for a scruffy ginger cat napping on the guardrail. On the side of the ship, in pretty pink calligraphy, it read The Candy Stripe. Captain Blast, who was at the wheel, took a deep breath as if he was steeling himself for battle. "Okay, everyone!" Blast shouted. "Come up! We have work to do!" He ran to get the gangplank and used the braod wooden plank to connect the Vengeful Maiden to the Candy Stripe. The ginger cat woke up and yowled angrily. Then it ran off the Candy Stripe onto the docks, disappearing down a dark alleyway like a furry orange lightning bolt. Anya came out of the captain's quarters dressed in some of Blast's clothes: a loose-fitting shirt with the sleeves rolled up, brown leather pants, and clunky old boots. She had two knives strapped on her tiny waist and another knife sticking out of her left boot. Her voluminous, crinkly mane was pulled back into a massive ponytail and she had used Captain Blast's boot polish to paint a black stripe across her eyes, giving them a startlingly fierce appearance. "Ready for war," Anya said with a sharp nod. Blast smiled and leaned down to kiss her, but she pushed him away. "We need to focus," she told him. "There's enough time for that later. Now let's just wait for the others. My mother hinted that something big was going to go down and I don't want to face it alone."
Sally had gone below deck shortly aft her little speech , deciding to finish making her false coins. She placed them in a small bag roughly the size of her hand, along with some of her bullets for weight, and then placed a few real coins on top to aid in the illusion. Overall, it had gone well, her using it as a method of adapting to her new arm. Though now she might be able to pay for a new one. She was just heading to the deck when Blast shouted for them to get ready. A rather useful timing, if not for her actual plans. "Sorry Blast, me and Red Eye are heading into to town to see if I can get a new arm, plus getting a drink be a fun thing to do before the fighting starts." She stretched one arm upwards, once again her shoulder cracking. "I could really do with some proper food instead of the grub on her that I think might be grubs." Beneath the deck she'd found what might have been a kitchen area some millennia ago, judging by the dust. She'd made sure to grab as much from the island that looked vaguely edible as possible, then thrown anything that seemed vaguely poisonous to the point where the only thing left was a mango which she'd eaten herself. After that she scrounged what she could. A few pieces of salted meat, some preserved eggs, half a packet of lemony biscuits that had gone slightly soft, and a strange black ball that, the more she thought about it, might not be food. While used to a mariner's diet, this was a little scarce, even by her standards. "Actually, might just be a good idea to stock up on supplies anyway." She stated, glancing between the stairs below and the crow's nest above, unsure which way red eye would come from.
As late afternoon wore on into dusk, Cephilia found her attention drifting away from the conversation and back to the reason she had come to the workshop in the first place. Pirate Bay was getting closer by the minute. Madame Spark, Quickblade, and lord knows what else could be waiting for them there. She had to be ready. Her armor and gadgets were constantly changing, usually for the better, as she found weaknesses or missed opportunities and made improvements. Her current ensemble had been designed for infiltration, evasion, and occasional light skirmishes. Needless to say, it wasn’t perfectly suited to the current climate. This wasn’t a heist; this was an armed incursion into a lawless, warzone-esque city, where everyone and everything was willing to kill. The modifications to her sword came together rather nicely. The ideas just seemed to flow out of her and she quickly made them a reality. Cephilia attached the upgraded disc to her sword, even going as far as to braze and rivet it in place, so it could not be removed. She ran a wire from its trigger mechanism to a pull ring at the sword’s pommel, fully integrating it into Vigilance’s already complex internal components. Satisfied that her theory was sound, she excused herself from Adam and Red Eye to go on deck and test it out. To her surprise, it actually worked on the first try. Cephilia squeezed Vigilance’s main trigger mid-swing, disengaging the blade and sending it unfurling into a chain whip. Then she switched her off-hand’s position and pulled the ring dangling from its pommel, which unloaded the coil mechanism inside. There was a loud whirring and the geared disc glowed red-hot as it reeled the blade back in at lightning speed. The sword snapped back together in under a second, with a loud metallic clank. She could only use this trick about three times before the spring was spent and had to be re-wound, which could be done by holding the trigger and turning the hand crank. Normally, that would reel the blade in, but she had altered the internal components, so holding the trigger while turning the crank would wind only the spring. Getting more complex by the minute, old friend, she thought, examining her sword to ensure it hadn’t been damaged. There were a lot of forces involved and she wasn’t sure how much of this the sword could take. Well, if it’s going to break, I’d rather it break now than in the heat of battle, she thought and began trying it on everything. She spent about half an hour flicking her whip out and using the auto-reel mechanism to snap it back. It jammed a couple of times, but a little gun oil worked wonders and it didn’t give her any more trouble afterward. She even set up some empty bottles --thank you, Mr. Bones-- and practiced cracking them with the whip, then quickly recoiling it. By the time the Vengeful Maiden glided into Pirate Bay, Cephilia was sitting high atop the main mast, with the wind in her hair, liberally applying a whetstone to her blade. Rather than give it an edge, she used the stone to buff out scratches and keep its surface smooth, so it wouldn’t catch while parrying. Although it had the appearance of a sword, Vigilance was often wielded like a club or paddle. Its broad blade also made a decent shield, when necessary. Cephilia heard talking far below. Looking down, she spotted Captain Blast and Anya. Asara joined them shortly after. “So, it begins,” Cephilia said to herself. Her sword was ready. Her body and mind were ready. Vengeance was loaded with six lethal rounds; no flashbang, no blanks. Just raw, killing potential. In one smooth motion she hooked her chain around the mast and swung down, landing with a tuck-and-roll a few feet away from Captain Blast and the others. The chain whip snapped into place a fraction of a second later as she stood to meet them. “While I agree a supply run is much needed, our objective lies right before us,” Cephilia said to Asara, with a gesture to Madame Spark’s ship. “Personally, I prefer the plan that involves getting the map and getting the heck out of here. We can even raid Madame Spark’s cupboard while we’re at it,” she added with a smile. “Besides… I believe our captain just gave us an order. It’s not up for debate.”
Captain Blast turned to Cephilia and pointed in her face. "I like you," he said with a grin. Then he turned to Sally and pointed in her face, his grin turning into a frown. "We can take me mother's supplies, as the Red Widow already suggested," he told her. "And there's plenty of drink on this ship. Why would you want to go into town and risk running into Madam Spark or her crew? Have you seen those guys? They're huge." "It's also highly unlikely you will find a replacement arm here of all places," Anya added with a sympathetic smile. "I wouldn't underestimate Ole Sparky," Billy Bones commented as he came up onto the deck. Both his pistols were cocked and ready. "She's a ruthless old dame. Tried to cut off me nose the first time I met her, but Blast blew up some gunpowder and she was distracted enough for us to escape." "Oh, yeah, I forgot about that," Blast said, rubbing his square chin. "Why did she try to do that again, First Mate?" "She said I deserved it for offending her with me foul odor." Captain Blast smirked. "Well, you haven't taken a bath in ages, I can't really blame her for that. Anyway, we should be off." With that, he turned and trotted over the gangplank onto the Candy Stripe. Anya was next and Billy Bones was close behind, glancing around warily. "The vision showed us that the map was in the captain's quarters," Captain Blast whispered as he skipped to the upper deck. He tried the brass doorknob, but it wouldn't budge. Then he stepped back and kicked it down. Inside was a large antique bed, a wardrobe full of clothes, and cluttered desk with the map sitting neatly in the middle. "Yoink!" Blast exclaimed as he ran in and snatched up the map. He ran back out and started to say, "Okay, let's head bac--" He stopped when a lanky figure came up from below decks on the Candy Stripe. He was dressed plainly in all brown and his face was partially hidden by his long black hair. He held no weapons, but he carried a book with a ribbon hanging out of it that marked his place. The stranger stared at them without any fear. "Put it back," he said in a flat tone.
It turned into one of those conversations where it’s obvious everyone is seriously sleep deprived, but nobody really feels like going to bed. I probably nodded off a few times, but something must have interested Hawking enough to hold out as long as he did. However, when Cephilia excused herself, I thought it a good excuse to do the same. “Yeah, I should probably get going too. I came here looking for a place to sleep, but I think I’ll just take a quick nap on deck.” I slowly lift myself up and walk up the stairs again. Apart from Cephilia testing out her new gadgets it’s empty. I find a corner somewhere away from the dangerous weapons flying around and doze off. "Okay, everyone! Come up! We have work to do!" I quickly get up and shake the sleep out of my body. Seeing Anya standing attention in a most piratey outfit makes me smile. 24 hours ago I could never have imagined that sight. She talks about getting the crew ready before leaving when NoName comes on deck and talks about going for supplies first. Just before I’m close enough to say anything, Cephilia slings down from the main mast like a bat out of Hell. Really glad she’s on our side. Without waiting any further, Blast boards his mother’s ship. "The vision showed us that the map was in the captain's quarters," I was just thinking it might be a good idea to secure the rest of the ship first when he kicked down the door. If there is anyone keeping watch over this ship, they’ll be here soon. The deck seems empty and the crow’s nest is dark. I move myself behind the stairway that goes below deck. If they come through here, I should be able to flank them. Possibly making even more noise than the door breaking down, Blast comes running out of the Captain’s cabin with the map in his hand. Sometimes I wonder how this man ever survived this long. Then, a man comes walking up the stairs with a book in his hand. Slowly. Confidently. This is not good. "Put it back," One quick step puts me behind him and my sword just above his shoulder. “Now, I would never raise my sword against a man of God, but that’s no Bible is it?”
"Okay, everyone!" Blast shouted. "Come up! We have work to do!" From his resting place inside the longboat (the other one this time) Red Eye stirred and sprung up. So they were at it already, hm? No rest for the wicked after all. With two power naps under his belt, though, he was again at full strength and raring to go. He took in the Candy Stripe as he crossed the Maiden's deck. There were no lights from any of the portholes. It sat at the harbor, seemingly ready and waiting for anyone off the street to waltz in and rob it. A more obvious trap he had not seen in many a day. ...Nor a larger idiot, he thought as he watched Blast bash his way into the captain's cabin. No wonder the man had got himself arrested. It was frankly a wonder he'd survived to adulthood. Well, while he was triggering whatever was left to guard the place, Red Eye had somewhere else to be. Taking off his boots, he tucked them into his belt before leaping down to the water below. He froze quite a large piece beneath himself as he landed, though the force of the landing splashed water up to his knees. Clearly he had to work on his landings, he thought as he skated around the Candy Stripe. He allowed ice to flow freely from his feet as he flew, building it greater and greater with every step until it reached all around the boat and to the bottom of the harbor. He didn't like the look of those tubes sticking out of the back - images of the Maiden's own turbines filled his mind - but whatever they were, this much ice ought at least to make things a whole lot slower. That seen to, he donned his boots once more and climbed back up to dock level. He glanced around at the surrounding buildings. At this hour, most of the citizenry was probably warming up to their first mug of grog. There was no one to be seen, save for a ginger cat tearing away from the ship and away into the winding alleys. That...did not bode well. Pirates weren't known for keeping pets that couldn't pull their own weight, after all. He fired two quick shots after it, but he was pretty sure he missed. Company would be coming soon. It wasn't a hunch so much as an assumption - always assume everything's going to go wrong, that was his rule. Then charge in anyway. He glanced around the docks once more, looking for something that might work... Ah ha. A barrel of fish, long gone bad and abandoned to rot. With an effort he got it most of the way to the Candy Stripe's gangplank before spilling its contents across the stones in a swath of slime and half-solid seafood. His hand made a unrepeatable squelch as he smacked his palm into the muck (he was not what one would call the squeamish sort) and began freezing.
The bookish fellow glanced over his shoulder at Adam and his top lip curled in disgust. "No, it is not a Bible," he said, spitting out each word. "It's a book of poetry." Then he turned his gaze on Captain Blast and flipped back his long hair. He bore a strong resemblance to Blast, except his was younger and more feminine looking. "Flairant. Tell your goon to back off, before I'm forced to hurt him." Captain Blast frowned, tucking the map into his sash. "Now, why in the world would I do that, Tolliver?" he asked. "You're obviously still under mother's thumb. Why haven't you left yet? I thought you wanted to go to Horus University?" "I did," Tolliver snapped. "But things change. Mother needs me, so I stayed." "You can't stay here forever. She'll always need you. That's why I left, to be my own person and..." "I don't need a lecture from you of all people, Flairant," Tolliver interjected. "You might be my big brother, but you've never acted like one. Now, as I was saying: Put. The. Map. Back." Tolliver flicked his fingers over his shoulder and Adam was suddenly paralyzed, from his head to his toes. Tolliver stepped behind Adam and kicked him square in the back, sending him flying across the deck. When Adam hit the ground, the paralysis disappeared and he could move again. "Last warning, Flairant!" Tolliver barked, spittle flying from his mouth. "Distract him while I get back on the ship!" Captain Blast yelled. Then he took off running toward the gangplank as full speed.
"I don't need a lecture from you of all people, Flairant. You might be my big brother, but you've never acted like one.” Brother? That complicates things. With people like this I never take any chances, never bluff. But if it’s the captain’s brother, I can’t just kill him. Normally I would have cut the man’s head of the moment he raised that hand, or at least severed a few nerves in his arm, but I bloody well can’t now. … And now I bloody can’t do anything! I’m sure that man, ‘Tolliver’, believes he has a decent kick, but at training this would have barely counted as a hit. The only problem, of course, was that I couldn’t brace for it, so it send me hurling off across the deck. Landing was not so good either. My hand still held my blade in front of me, so it hit the ground first and darn near broke my arm. Luckily I quickly toppled to the left and landed on my shield without any permanent injury. The spell wore off the moment I hit the ground. That’s good. These people all have limits, so we’ll just have to push them. "Distract him while I get back on the ship!" … Fighting a man like this without lethal force is going to be very, very tricky. Then again, we do have the Red Widow. As I get up I give her a quick look and then slowly position myself between him and her. She should still have a decent line of sight, but he should be focussing on me for now. If she can somehow surprise him and get hold of him, we should be good. “So, Tolliver right? Any chance we can settle this like men? You did just kick me in the back.”
Cephilia had chosen to hang back a bit while the man boldly --and loudly-- charged through the corridors of Madame Spark’s ship. He moved in the manner of one who is quite at home. Perhaps he and mommy hadn’t been enemies for long. He almost seemed to relish this homecoming. I suppose I’m not the only one with family squabbles, the noblewoman thought as she covered their flank, trying her best to keep an eye out for trouble. Then again, if she ever returned home to rob dear old dad, she wouldn’t take joy in it. Then again, father never took a legendary treasure map from me. As Blast turned to make his escape, the inevitable happened. A rather demure-looking fellow approached them, with a book tucked under his arm. He didn’t appear to have a warmongering bone in his body. Not a guard or soldier. Must be a lookout or something, Cephilia reasoned. If, so, they needed to take him down, before he raised the alarm and- Flairant? “W-what?” Cephilia murmured, unable to hide her smirk. It took a great deal of strength not to burst into a fit of girlish giggling. So, the great Captain Blast had a name after all. Flairant. And Tolliver. Oh, Madame Spark truly was evil. Evil to the core. What followed was a conversation that only two brothers could have. They both seemed quite civil --hostile, but civil-- considering the circumstances… at least until Tolly-boy attacked Adam. He immobilized the man and, with a single kick, sent him reeling. Cephilia drew her sword and readied her stance. There was something sickeningly unsportsmanlike about a man who, with a snap of his fingers, can take the fight out of his enemies. Makes me think you’ve got no fight in you, coward, she thought. “Distract him while I get back on the ship,” Flairant, erm Captain Blast, said as he sprinted away. I’ll do more than distract him, Cephilia thought. “So, Tolliver right? Any chance we can settle this like men?” Adam said. “You did just kick me in the back.” Cephilia took a deep breath and sheathed her sword. In truth, she had every intention of rushing the man if he wanted to continue fighting, but Adam had given her an idea. She could try another tactic. “Tolliver,darling, did you say Horus University?” she asked, approaching him slowly and in as non-threatening a manner as possible. She was careful not to get too close, just near enough for him to see the honesty in her eyes. “I have an honorary degree from there. My father sits on the board of admissions.” This was actually true, though she suspected he wouldn’t believe a word of it. “Cephilia Lovelace,” she said, offering her right hand for a shake. “If you’re serious about it, I could get you in. This piracy business has no future for you, dear.”
Tolliver spat on the ground in front of Adam in reply to his challenge. "Screw you," he snapped, but the words didn't sound right coming out of his mouth. He didn't talk like a pirate or stand like one or act like one. Even the kick he had given to Adam's back was clumsy. Tolliver was clearly more of a scholar than a fighter. When Cephilia approached him he braced himself for a fight, and then his eyes widened when she said her name. "You're a...Lovelace?" he stammered. "Um, er...well, I hope you don't judge me based on my previous actions. You have to be tough when you're around pirates all the time. One false move, and you're shark bait." He laughed nervously and tried to smooth the wrinkles out of his shirt and pants. "So, you really think you can get me into HU?" he asked tentatively. At the same time, they heard a cat yowl ferociously. A group of eight beefy men were standing on the docks below, glaring up at Captain Blast's crew. In the middle stood Madam Spark in all her terrible beauty. She held the ginger cat from earlier in her arms like a newborn baby. "Thanks for the warning, Fireball," Madam Spark murmured to her cat without taking her eyes off the intruders. Then she turned to her men. "Kill them all," she ordered. The men obeyed and stomped right over the icy sludge that Red Eye had prepared for them: their heavy boots crunched the ice and turned it to slush. "Answer me, quick!" Tolliver practically screamed at Cephilia. "Can you get me into HU or not?"
“Y-yes! Maybe… I mean, I’ll try,” Cephilia said, rather sheepishly. She clearly wasn’t very good at this pirate stuff either, especially the lying part. She would try, but she couldn’t bring herself to act as if his admission was a certainty. “I’ll do what I can,” she added as she unsheathed her sword and glanced toward Madame Spark. “That’s all I can promise. In the meantime…” Cephilia’s stance gave the illusion she was about to face the burly men charging up the gangplank. She could probably take down one, maybe two, but that was a gamble she’d rather not take. Instead… She snatched Tolliver’s arm and yanked him to her. In instant later, he was in her grasp, with Vigilance pressed to his throat. Her right hand had a firm grip on his magic-using arm and held it across his body, trapping him. She prayed these brutes were too dimwitted to notice the sword lacked an edge. She also prayed they actually valued Tolliver’s life enough to give pause. Spark had said ‘kill them all.’ “Stay back or Tolly-boy gets it!” she barked at the men. “Just play along,” she whispered in Tolliver’s ear. “I can’t get you anywhere if we’re all dead. Can you paralyze them? Even just two or three would be a huge help.” If he could, she’d release his arm and let him do his thing. If not, he was more useful as a human shield.
The second Cephilia had grabbed Tolliver, Sally decided to join into the plan. In one quick movement she drew her rifle and put the butt against the false captive's temple. "And if anyone takes one step closer, uses a talent, or even puts their hand within an inch of weapon, I'll spread bookworm's big brain across the mast of your ship." She said, her tone solid, level and calm. No need to get excessively aggressive. With those words she began to move back, keeping her aim level with the mans skull while getting behind what cover she could, in this case, one of the ships cannons. Sally's own mother had taught her an important lesson. Never rely on a mother to love their children. She was expecting Spark to do something incredibly intelligent, such as ordering her troops to fire in unison, killing or wounding them all in one go and allowing them to get Tolliver away, and then finish them at their leisure. Or, at least, that's what she'd do. She quickly gave a gesture for the others to move behind anything they could. It was then she eyed Spark and rolled her eyes. All style over substance. High heels prevented effective running. Peppering the dock the bullets and debris that they'd get caught on was one idea. Tight trousers were ever worse for mobility. Then there was the corset. By whatever deity had power over this world were they the stupidest thing Sally had ever seen. Between reduced mobility, breathing issues and the fact it pushed all the vital organs into one, easily shot package. The things she was wearing belonged on a women of the night or a noblewoman who wanted to be seen as risque, not someone going into combat. From this there were two assumptions. Spark was a moron, killable with a simple shot to her compressed organs. Or she had a talent, which led Sally to be stretching her legs slightly, preparing to leap away at a moments notice, considering she was about to open her mouth. "We're just after the map Madame, killing anyone is my last priority."
Frying pan into the fire. The woman who would not give up her name signals everyone to get into cover, but I cannot do that. It would certainly be the wisest thing to do, but it would also leave Cephilia and “Tolly-boy” as the only viable targets. Then again, they were the only targets that mattered to begin with. In a hostage situation you either shoot the enemy, or shoot the hostage. It doesn’t even have to be lethal, but it shows that you won’t negotiate over one man. My shield should be able to stop whatever firepower they have for at least a little while and my armour’s tough too. I’ll have to be their cover. I place myself in front of Tolliver, making sure that I could move to Cephilia in a split second if need be, but keeping her current bad-ass image in plain view. NoName still had a clear shot and Hawking was doing his thing. All that was left was to do what he had done a million times before. Stare at the enemy and look intimidating. It was actually a strange kind of relief to see eight strongly build, muscular men on the opposing team. Sure, they were tough, but at least you know what to expect. If we all take on two we should be good. That only leaves the mother. If only we had a leader who knew something about this mysterious woman present and on deck.
