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Post by moralhazard on May 19, 2019 3:55:57 GMT
“CHEATER!” The cry rippled across the crowded tavern.
Miri glanced down to see a card flutter from beneath the table to the floor. The shouter stomped over, picking it up and slamming it onto the table. Miri looked back up into the faces of three highly unamused opponents, their scowls growing deeper by the moment. “Well,” Miri said, cheerfully, shrugging bare shoulders. “This is awkward.”
Miri slammed her knee up into the table, flipping the wooden slat up and sending foamy mugs of beer flying. In the same moment, she shoved herself back, launching back off her wooden stool and pressing off the column behind her, stealing a bit of momentum to turn into a quick change of direction. She ducked a grasping pair of arms, darted neatly around a reaching hard, and ran, boots pounding steadily against the ale-sticky floor.
Out the door, then, and Miri took a sharp left, turning down and alley and backing up against the wall of the tavern she’d just left, crouching behind two barrels. She stayed low, careful to keep the orange silk handkerchief that could generously be called a shirt hidden in the dark. Miri waited, staying low, listening as the shouting and pounding drifted further and further away.
Miri grinned, her breath easing, and stretched her elbows out and back, letting out a soft sigh. She rose slowly from behind the barrels, and walked nonchalantly the other way down the alley, hands in the pockets of her leather pants. She glanced around at the edge of it, and, seeing no one frantic or familiar-looking, took a right turn, making her way up into town.
“THERE SHE IS!”
A distant voice echoed, and Miri’s gaze shot up, fixing on a bright red face at the end of the street. She let out a low whistle, turned, and took off the other way. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so easy! Miri grinned.
Two short-cuts, three rooftops, and an unpleasant fifteen minutes spent huddling around a campfire beneath a scratchy but surprisingly clean-smelling blanket later, and Miri was fairly sure she had lost her pursuers. She had certainly lost her buzz; the pleasant sensation of being drunk was gone, lost to the pounding adrenaline of the pursuit.
Not, Miri thought, quite how she’d hoped her night would go.
Instead of making her way back up into town, Miri changed directions, making her way to the docks. She wasn’t sure whether Sandara was onboard tonight, but she figured the quartermaster wouldn’t begrudge Miri a spot in her berth either way. It was a bit later than she usually got to the Rose, but better late than never, right?
One of the lads at the docks rowed Miri out to the ship, in exchange for her quiet forbearance as his gaze stayed locked on the spot where the orange silk met her chest, slipped just a little lower than usual thanks to all her dashing about. Miri ignored him, a faint smile on her face, staring out over the harbor waters. If she moved her chest just a little more than necessary with each deep breath – well – perhaps she just felt a little bad for the lad not getting his coin. He was a good rower too, nice and quiet.
The Rose was dark beneath the starry sky; they weren’t far enough out from the city for stars to be much in the way of visible, but there was a bit of light from the moon above. Miri kissed the crescent on her wrist for luck, winked at the rowboat boy, and stepped onto the edges of the planks nailed into the side of the Rose.
She climbed near silently, carefully maneuvering around the three planks that had a tendency to creak, and slid herself over the railing onto the deck of the ship, landing in a low, near-silent crouch. Miri rose, effortlessly, glancing the ship over, and started towards the quartermaster’s cabin, as silent and comfortable on deck as she’d been climbing the ship’s side.
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Citrine
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6 Wild Blooded Sorcerer+ 1 Celestial Warlock
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Post by Citrine on May 19, 2019 4:22:53 GMT
L eaning on the fence gate of the Upper Deck where the ship's wheel stood proudly, Citrine Rain Redbriar, Captain of the Blood Red Rose, was lost in her daydreams. Or, in this case, nightdream. The hour was late but still she was awake. That in itself wasn't odd. What was odd was her quiet introspection that hung around her like a cloak. Her wings were wrapped around her as a literal cloak, keeping the chill of the spring air off. No candles lit the deck, her firm Code keeping the deck lights out after 8pm still in effect. The moon didn't reflect off her feathers, but fire did. Breathing in the salty air the firebird looked onto the horizon out beyond the harbor, bittersweet in her posture. Two hundred and seventy years, give or take a decade. That's how long she'd lived on a ship, only twenty of those or so not a Captain. It was most all she knew, a life at sea. She'd dabbled living on land here and there, but the sea always called her back. For all her pomp and circumstance, her rowdy behavior on land, in pubs, taunting noblemen, and generally enjoying living off the treasure she kept in her trunk so as to not actively have to 'work' to earn coin beyond betting and rigging games of cards? There was a larger side of her not shown. Those who sailed at sea saw it. Those she'd adventured with for long sets of time saw it. Orin had seen it. And tonight? In her melancholy while she took 2nd watch? She was engrossed in memories of serving under Mani. Commanding the Neverending Story. Sailing the Firebird. Taking the reign of Herald as her own on Gozreh's Firebird. And finally now? The Blood Red Rose. She was fully decked out tonight, rapier at her side. Frost and Briar, both single shot pistols nested on the lower dip of her back, mithril with sapphires and rose gold with rubies, as you would expect out of their names. The lace up leather pants were covered by the dancer skirt like effect of her bird tail, the longer tailfeathers curling lightly to skim off the deck. Her sleeveless blood red Captain's coat hung open, showing off her multiple nautical tattoos on her arm and let her torso shine in the moonlight. Only her deep green chest wrap hindered anything 'up top'. Her Captain's hat finished the look. Movement caught her eye. Nothing happened on her ship without her realizing it. Someone was sneaking up aboard, there, on the main deck. Raptor eyes narrowing, she'd adjusted to moonlight based vision hours ago, her lip curled in anticipation, excitement, and thrill. Her wings, generally smelling of candle smoke, ash, and clove spiked with sandalwood and bergamot. Silently she disappeared from where she'd stood and reappeared perched quietly on the railing behind the stealthy woman. She popped away again the moment the figure started to turn to look behind her, appearing up in the masts high above the deck. Her rapier slid out of the sheath. Embossed on the blade, with a budding rose as the pommel and vines etched down the metal, was the name "Thorne". For a third time now Citrine disappeared and reappeared - right behind the potential thieving sprog. The over foot of height didn't matter, the firebird never let something like height affect her ability to command and pose herself into a position of power. It helped too that a talon hooked into the calf of the boots she was wearing to act as a perch, the other twisting to clasp around the other leg's thigh and pinch just enough to show an unwanted move would pierce the point into the thigh's artery. Her rapier rested against the chest and nicked right where the throat began - the stylish tie-back shirt a mental notes of 'inquire into this design later'. Her voice was dark whiskey and molasses, teasing the words slowly and with command. Her hair skimmed across Miri's shoulders, the mane of braids and feathers carrying with them the smell that was pure Citrine. The pirate drawl of curious yet reserved, intense, spooky, and oh so self confident. "An' who be ye tae cross ontae me ship." |
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Post by moralhazard on May 19, 2019 4:36:42 GMT
Miri heard a faint noise from behind her, like a rustling. She turned, looking back at the railing – nothing. Her mouth twitched, and she turned in a slow, even circle, checking the entirety of the deck. There was enough moonlight that she could, at least, see no one was moving, even if her vision wasn’t as good as she might have liked in the dark. She could have sworn she smelled something – candle smoke, maybe, or ash, but it seemed to drift away on the salty sea air.
Miri held another moment, cautious, then took another step.
Something wrapped around her leg, an unfamiliar sensation followed by a much more familiar one, the tip of a rapier pressed against her throat. Miri kept very still, other than the faint shiver that rippled through her at the brush of what felt like hair and feathers against her shoulders. Now she definitely smelled something – very pleasant, honestly, like candles flavored with clove. She breathed in deep, chest rising and falling, and made no attempt to resist.
Slowly, carefully, Miri lowered her gaze, looking down at her thigh. Were those – talons?
If she’d had any doubt as to her captor, it evaporated as easily as the woman sneaking around deck had. Miri was more sure than ever about the identity of the woman holding a rapier to her throat, whose smoky voice was at this very moment pouring like molasses into her ears. Turning to really look at the woman would be risking her throat a bit more than Miri was comfortable with, but there was really no need.
After all, who else could it be?
Miri grinned. “You must be Captain Rain,” her voice was low and soft as well, as familiar as the tight grip of Citrine’s talons around her thigh, a pleased sort of purr rumbling beneath her words. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
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Citrine
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6 Wild Blooded Sorcerer+ 1 Celestial Warlock
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Post by Citrine on May 19, 2019 5:02:44 GMT
H er head tilted in a perfect representation of the bird beast her racial heritage gave her. An intrigued coo whistle curled into Miri's ear as Citrine ran the statement through her mind. "Me friends call me Rain. Me crew call me Captain. O' which - ye are neither. Ah lot o' folks nae who Aye am though, an be ah shame after-ull fer someone tae nae't nae teh Captain o' teh ship ye're sneakin' on." She didn't adjust her blade nor shift her position - which could both be seen as a positive and a negative. "As fer meetin' me? Why might tha' be lass. Ef et was ah simple meetin' ye be requestin' me names on teh list o' those at teh Mariner's Hall, ef et be formal. Course Aye en teh taverns o' teh Dock Ward enough tae find me informally."She had a bit more of a growl to her voice now at this point, like a cat playing with a mouse. "Sae Aye ask again, why be on me ship when nae on' else be aboard tae escort ye 'ere?"Her ship was her livelihood, her means of surviving and doing as she pleased. To have an uninvited guest aboard was like having a stranger just open your door and let themselves in without even a knock. She had the suspicion she'd been here before, the ladder was hard to find among the copper lined hull and the engravings along the side of the ship if you didn't know where to look and place your hands. Though thieves didn't have to see a lock before to unlock it either. To keep her balance Citrine's wings flared, giving her height where generally she lacked that genetic aspect. Her talon sunk into the boot cuff a little more securely as her non-blade wielding hand drifted to settle on the open skin of Miri's neck and shoulder - the slightly taloned fingernails there lightly drumming as she waited for an answer. "Dan' make me ask ah third time lass, ef ye would." Threes, she could never escape that number, could she? Orin and her both, haunted by the digit in all matters of life. It's just naturally pop up, habits now done in the series of three. Trios showing up it was common place. They just wouldn't stop. |
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Post by moralhazard on May 19, 2019 5:15:19 GMT
The hair and feathers against her shoulders shifted, dragging across her bare skin. Miri shivered again, well aware of goosebumps rippling over the bare flesh of her arms, interrupted only by the sentimental bracer she wore. The tone of Citrine’s voice only heightened the effect; there had been plenty of attempts to explain Rain’s accent to Miri in the weeks she’d spent aboard the Rose, but she didn’t think anyone had ever come close to doing it justice.
Miri shifted, weighing her options in her mind. Citrine’s reputation said she wouldn’t think twice to cut Miri’s throat, if she thought she really represented a threat to the Blood Red Rose. The adrenaline of it all was pumping through her veins, hot and heavy, thrilling, another burst of excitement on top of a night that hadn’t ended at all how the bounty hunter had wanted.
“It’s hardly my first night aboard,” Miri murmured, almost unable to help herself. She thought the pace of the almost talon-like nails drumming against her skin might have picked up, ever so slightly; it wouldn’t take much effort at all for them to draw blood.
“I came to the Rose off the Bear’s Throat,” Miri said, finally. Cards on the table, for once, although nothing could keep the cheer from her voice, or the faint undertone of excitement. “I was most grateful for the hospitality of the Rose up the coast, and thought you wouldn’t begrudge it one night longer, here in harbor. And if you’d heard your own crew talk, you wouldn’t be half surprised that I wanted to meet you,” she grinned. “My name’s Miri Blackstone, and it truly is a pleasure.”
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Citrine
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6 Wild Blooded Sorcerer+ 1 Celestial Warlock
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Post by Citrine on May 19, 2019 5:47:13 GMT
T he Bear's Throat. A snarl mixed with satisfaction crossed her lips thinking about the blasted ship. The moment she'd learned Harrigan had a presence in this realm? She had to do something about it. The drumming settled, the blade lowered, and suddenly? Citrine faded to nothing at all only to show up again in front of Miri. Standing tall at four foot and change, wings held aloft behind her like its own prideful jolly roger, and her tail feathers fanned behind her, Citrine looked every bit the rumor and stories her crew would have told about her. "Ah rescue from teh Bear's Thoat then? Sandara 'ad told me she'd tucked away ah few o' ye before teh piss ship was sent tae teh depths." It was as if she hadn't just been one step away from needing to clean up a corpse off her ship. If they'd been ashore, in a tavern, or met on the streets? Citrine would have bowed here. But aboard her own ship, in her Captain's regalia, and serving as the Captain on duty? She did no such thing. However the firebird did nod with a smile. "Welcome aboard then Lass Miri Blackstone, tae teh Blood Red Rose. Aye take et ye've seen most o' teh ship then ef ye sailed all teh way from Teh Race an' up teh Sword Coast. Reports said ye, Kroop, Grok, Concaubar, an' ah few others pulled ye weight even when ye didn't have tae. Ye've me thanks."Sheathing her sword the redhead crossed her arms and surveyed Miri up and down in the moonlight. "Aye bet ye've seen teh Quartermaster's cabin often enough tae." The flirt in her voice was unexpected, given her own reputation as well as hearing Sandara discuss a certain little rogue in leather when she'd gotten a bit more drunk than usual. "Ef teh stories Aye've heard from me crew are true."The buzz of having someone under her blade has sent a pulse of fire through her veins, waking her up and out of her earlier musings of the past. The past was wonderful, yes, but the present? The future? That was grand. "Sae what brings ye onboard this late at night, Blackstone?" Another slight change compared to if they'd met in a bar. Surnames. Citrine tended to be entirely informal when not on deck, the opposite holding true when aboard. |
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Post by moralhazard on May 19, 2019 6:06:59 GMT
Miri agreed, deeply, with the snarl on Citrine’s lips. She half-wished the Bear’s Throat were still floating so she could sink it again - but only half, and maybe not quite that. The rest of her, what felt like a majority, was thoroughly grateful that the blasted thing was at the bottom of the ocean, with Harrigan and Scourge and Plugg, his flunkies, with it.
The pressure around her thigh, the drumming fingers on her shoulder, the feathers almost stroking her bare back and the metal sword tip against her throat vanished, and Captain Citrine Rain Redbriar was standing in front of her. Miri drank her in, greedily and unabashed. Citrine was every bit her crew had described, and like her voice, indescribably more.
“I’m the grateful one,” Citrine had only nodded to her, but Miri didn’t hesitate to bow, low and deep with a slight flourish to her wrists. “The Rose is a lovely ship.”
Miri rose to see Citrine studying her; she couldn’t help but notice the distinctly flirtatious chime in her voice. She grinned, but didn’t confirm anything about Sandara’s cabin and the frequency of her presence there. If Citrine knew she knew, and if not Miri wouldn’t be the one to tell her. Miri didn’t half mind being talked about; she just did her best to guide what was said.
“Waterdeep’s more friendly some nights than others,” Miri admitted, turning slightly to glance over the side of the deck to the well lit city. She turned back to Citrine with a crooked smile, taking in her captain’s regalia once more, soaking up the splendor of it with no lack of visible appreciation. “I hoped I might be able to find some more pleasant company aboard.” Her gaze met Citrine’s, the suggestion that was only a hint in her words bold and unabashed in her eyes. She didn’t say anything further, letting Citrine take the next step - if she so desired.
If not? Miri doubted this was an offense anywhere near as bad as sneaking aboard without the captain’s permission. Then again, perhaps if Citrine was truly angry she might feel the grasp of her talons once more, tight around her leather-clad thigh. Miri could think of many worse ways to die than beneath the pirate woman.
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Gigi
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5 Cleric of Graves
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Post by Gigi on May 19, 2019 17:29:25 GMT
C itrine was vain. She enjoyed looking good and basked in the complements and stares she received from others. As such? When Miri matched her own look with more consideration the firebird posed slightly. Wings arched a bit more, head tilt just so. She was a peacock thru and thru. "She's ah grand ship, aye. Aye'm impressed she survived teh travel from teh Inner Sea tae teh Shinin' Sea as well as she did." Pride seeped into her voice. "An Aye knae whut ye're talkin' about there. But Aye'm afraid ye've made teh travel 'ere fer naught. Teh rest o' teh crew es out on Leave. Et's teh seventh day o' tenday after-ull." There was a good chance that, due to having sailed with the ship for so long, that Miri knew the implication of that. On the seventh day of each tenday, the Captain took all duties of watch that night so the crew might have a relaxing day to unwind from the week. Sandara would have maintained that tradition, and it seemed now that the Rose was in port? Citrine took the responsibility back. Unable to stay super still for too long Citrine began to pace a slow circle around Miri, hands behind her back and still keeping a fair amount of distance between them. A touch of wax hinted into the air as her wings shifted to settle down her back and skim the deck. A raptor eye more often than not kept an focus on Miri, though whenever she fully looked away the return gaze would be unblinking, considering. Playfully even, but only just so. "Sae, Miri Blackstone, et seems ye night esn't whut ye've expected outta et." The jury was still out on where on the scale of displeased-please she was in terms of an uninvited guest boarding without an escort, it was hard to tell. "Ye're row boat's gane as well, teh boy-o's bound tae be nearly back tae teh docks proper by this point." The firebird looked up into the sky even as she kept her saunter around Miri. "Et's about, oooooi, say ut least three past midnight. Inns will be full by this point. Most pub crawlers already 'eaded home an' teh like." She kept her head looking upwards even as her side eye darted down to look at Miri from the corner of her eye. |
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Post by moralhazard on May 19, 2019 17:37:17 GMT
Miri paused, and counted the days back in her head, slowly – one by one. She clicked her tongue against her teeth. Citrine was right; she ought to have known better. It was a rookie mistake; she had sailed with the Rose long enough to know the schedule just fine. She’d sat up a watch or two with Sandara, after all; although, sadly, the quartermaster took her duties very seriously, and Miri had eventually given up her attempts to tease the other woman in making, ah, other use out of the empty ship.
Citrine began to pace around her, slowly. Miri shifted slightly, following her, like the needle of a compass swinging towards magnetic attraction. There was something predatory in Citrine’s gaze; she looked like nothing so much as a bird of prey. The hairs rose on Miri’s arms and the back of her neck; her whole body shivered again, goosebumps rippling over her, the front of her shirt standing sharply out.
It was thrilling.
Miri let out a faint sigh, spreading her hands out to the side in a supplicant's gesture, mobile long fingers flexing. “I suppose I could always try to swim to shore,” she mused aloud, although there was a thickness to her voice that betrayed the false lightness of her tone. “It’s a long, dark trip, though, and rather cold and wet,” Even white teeth bit at her lip, dragging at the skin and releasing it. “Perhaps we could come to some other… arrangement?”
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Gigi
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Post by Gigi on May 19, 2019 18:06:23 GMT
A cooed whisper of consideration bird trilled from Citrine, the waxy smell growing ever so slightly. "An arrangement ye say? Nae, ye 'ave me attention Lass." Yeah, because there was no way she hadn't had her gaze before. By now she'd made almost one complete circle around. "Fer if ye end up swimmin', ye'd be dealin' with teh merfolk who patrol below. Ye migh tbe able tae bargin ye way tae shore ef ye're lucky..." She grinned then, teeth glinting in the moonlight. "Are ye lucky, Blackstone?"The effect of her predatory circle wasn't lost on Citrine. Observant and keen eyed, she noticed, and enjoyed, the effect she was bringing about in Miri. It was even more obvious when the thief tried to speak, the heaviness in her voice a grand attempt at sounding unconcerned. But Citrine had centuries of practice at keeping her voice sounding like she wanted to. And unless she was so superbly drunk, or under the effects of her Captain, her voice kept a constant barely teasing, in command Captain voice she'd perfected over her centuries of authority. "We bargin' with favors 'ere about teh Rose, nae en coin, by teh by. What have ye tae parley with Lass?" Her eyebrow rose as she started a second circle around. |
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Post by moralhazard on May 19, 2019 19:30:02 GMT
Miri grinned back at Citrine, another shiver running through her body. She was willing enough to test her luck with the merfolk if need be; but Miri had a feeling that the Rose’s captain would be willing to strike a deal with her, one way or another. Miri might have been a bit older than her years, but the twenty something had no hope of competing with the centuries-old phoenix when it came to controlling herself.
Nor, if Miri was honest, did she particularly want to. The places that Citrine’s sharp glance landed didn’t go unnoticed, and the attention only heightened her… interest… in the conversation. Miri’s shoulders shifted, pulling back very slightly; the bandana hanging down over the front of her leather pants shifted in a gust of wind off the ocean, the moonlight glinting off of smooth brown skin beneath.
Miri kept tracking Citrine; she couldn’t quite help it. Her fighters’ instincts and all of the rest of them were tangled up, and she had no desire to take her eyes off the predator. The instinct to flee warred with the instinct to tilt her neck and bare her throat for Citrine, and yet Miri held still. Well, mostly still; another little shiver wracked through her body, and she had to clear her throat once before she could speak.
“Favors,” Miri murmured, voice low and husky now. She smiled. “It’s an awfully long watch, even with a beauty like the Rose to keep you company,” Miri pointed out. “I’m not so skilled as some, but… my fingers have a trick or two in them, if you’re interested,” Miri let the offer trail off there, flexing her hands again. It had been a little time since she last tried it, but she was confident she could still perform, given the opportunity. “Might be I could – entertain you a while, make the time pass quicker.”
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Citrine
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Post by Citrine on May 20, 2019 0:10:02 GMT
H umming an interested coo of birdsong Citrine spiraled around in a tighter circle then the first lap had been. Her tail swayed, the larger fire colored peacock feathers bouncing back and forth lightly with her sway. She continued to keep a sharp eye out all around the rest of the deck on the off chance someone else would board, as well as the sky, and for any sort of arcane hints that would spell trouble for a ship anchored out further away from the docks. But her eyes would always dip back to survey the would-be stowaway. "Only awfully ef ye arn't used tae et." She grinned back, another step closing the distance between them as she walked. If the wind caught her feathers or coat just right? They'd almost brush close enough to Miri. "As fer ye offer?" The pirate tapped a mage hand finger against her chin, the orange hand appearing in a sudden lighting of campfire like sparks and smoke. "Depends." She slyly said, no doubt reading innuendos into what Miri had just said. "Et's ah quite generous offer, all sorts o' things fingers an' hands can dae." Her mage hand shimmered as it behaved as its master did, disappearing and reappearing under Miri's chin to coax across the jawline and down the neck, leaving a trail of warmth where the fire magic lingered. Citrine was suddenly in front of Miri, wings holding her aloft in a hover to bring her eye height with the human. The breeze ruffled from her wings was warm and smelled heavily of wax mixed with candle smoke. As gentle as the tide Citrine leaned in and ran her real hand across Miri's cheek to tuck some hair behind her ears. "But Aye be on duty right now luv, sae Aye 'ave tae sae nae ta ye offer." The whisper was warm, just like the mage hand and the wings were - a private summer breeze on her cheek and ear. "Ah wanderin' eye sinks ships - an Aye'll nae't see me ship be endangered dae tae somethin' Aye'd flog me crew fer, ef they were en me, place an' failed tae resist ah siren." For another moment Citrine lingered close in Miri's personal space, her overwhelming presence mere fingers touch away. And then, just as she'd popped here and there, the firebird fizzled to stand back up on the Upper Deck, feet clinging to the fence that segregated the ship's wheel from being in the open, just like a bird would grasp onto branches in a tree. "Ye'll 'ave tae figure somethin' else out lass, o' ye'll be sent on ye way. Ah right shame considerin' all teh effort ye took tae get 'ere." The phoenix had the biggest teasing grin on her face, visible even from as far away as she was. |
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Post by moralhazard on May 20, 2019 0:40:58 GMT
Miri had seen a mage hand before, but she’d never had one stroke her cheek, or slide slowly down her neck, for all the world like real fingers. Miri tilted her chin up, shifting into the gesture and exposing the long slender column of her throat. Her mind raced through the possibilities, her grin twisting to take on a slightly more wicked undertone.
And then Citrine was in front of her, gorgeous wings spread wide, the smell of wax seeping into the air. Miri wondered if she would ever feel the same way about candles ever again; she rather hoped not. She shivered again, goosebumps rippling over her entire body once more. Her hand lifted, reflexively, long dark fingers catching the back of Citrine’s hand and sliding along it, the calluses on practiced fingers just rough enough to tingle against the pirate captain’s skin.
Miri grinned. In truth she’d have been a bit disappointed if Citrine had accepted the offer; if Sandara had shown more discipline than her captain, the Rose would be a disappointing ship indeed. Then again, there were all sorts of pleasant ways to pass a few hours, and playing the lute wasn’t the worst of them.
“What, no distractions at all?” Miri called back. She was grinning back. She didn’t mind walking into Citrine’s web, not in the slightest, and so she took a few steps forward, crossing the deck towards the phoenix. “Well, that certainly does limit my options,” Miri grinned all the wider.
“Let’s see,” Miri tapped her lips with one finger, putting on a thoughtful face, sorry for the sudden distance between her and Citrine, although the tension of her moment hadn’t yet dissipated, and her blood still burned hot in her veins. “I’m not above bartering a bit of my future. Perhaps we could make an exchange - one hour of my time at your disposal in the next week, to be used in any way that won’t do me permanent harm,” Miri grinned. She was rather putting herself in Citrine’s hands, but it wasn’t a place she thought she would mind being. It was a thrilling risk to take.
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Citrine
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Post by Citrine on May 22, 2019 17:29:50 GMT
"T ha' et does Lass." She agreed, not many options at all. From her higher vantage by the wheel Citrine watched Miri step closer, her more full and plumed peacock like tail shifting lazily side to side - a side effect of her rather recent return to life. A near proper, red, peacock tail mimicking a cross between a bustle and a dancer's hip scarf with feathers raining down around her hips and growing longer to mix into her tail paired with heavier feathers in her hair that would flair up in a mohawk depending on her emotions partially hidden by her hat. The long 'eyed' crest feathers were still there, but softer, if one could describe them that way. Not as angry or sharp as they'd been before. A coo trilling to a laughing bird song ghosted across the deck of the ship. "Just ah single hour o' ye time? Why, tha's quite teh bargain ain't et nae." The phoenix tapped a tapered finger to her chin, content to ignore looking down at Miri and instead return to looking out around the water beyond them. Her voice was playful with an undertone of, almost mocking sarcasm, but not hurtful. Her wings shuffled then settled, the wax still simmering within their folds. It was neither a refusal of the offer, but it wasn't an acceptance either. Fishing for more than they should rightly capture, as ospreys did, the firebird still perched in front of the Captain's Wheel absently used her mage hand to adjust her hat upwards slightly as she peered around the harbor. "Et es ah fine evenin' though." She said almost out of nowhere, her voice a little distinct as she looked into the stars where the sea met the sky. "An' ah fine offer, tae be sure. But who knaes whut next week will bring. Ye're ne'er right sure what'll 'appen after all. En teh future." Her bird gaze swiveled back to Miri's, neck moving fluently. "Unless ye can see teh threads before us, how am Aye tae knae Aye truely will gain teh pearl o' reward as ye say Miss Blackstone? Aye've 'ad many ah lad, or lass, sneak on off outta ah bet." Her eyes narrowed a bit then as her lips sneered lightly. "Aye'm nae tae partial tae thieves like tha'."She didn't know Miri after all, only heard rumors and whispers of what Sandara happened to pass on while they compared notes on what'd happened during the Rose's sailing up the coast. Then again when she'd been proud as a peacock to see the Rose remained in harbor even while she had been.... Predisposed elsewhere. As open in friendship as she was, a favor for the future was a high cost to someone she didn't trust. |
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Post by moralhazard on May 22, 2019 20:50:27 GMT
Miri looked up at the Phoenix; the moonlight caught her feathers, sending a dazzle of red and gold through the night. It reminded Miri of her first sight of the Rose, of fire and blood singing in her veins, of freedom.
Ironic, a bit, considering the current conversation.
“You don’t,” Miri said, cheerful and unrepentant. “I could sing you pretty stories of my faithfulness and my honor. I could swear to you how I never back out on my word, once given. I could tell you I would sooner break a promise to Selene herself than the captain of the Rose,” Reflexively, she kissed the crescent on her wrist.
“But,” Miri shrugged bare shoulders. “Those would be all just words.” She grinned. “So it’s up to you, if you want to gamble on me and see if you win. But then, perhaps you don’t like to bet?”
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