Drop Anchor! The Crew Judges
From FiranMUX
The Liberator Trireme - Main Deck
The deck of this trireme is made of solid planks of wood, carefully
crafted together to be seaworthy, though like all decks on vessels
such as this, they require constant scrubbing to keep clean. The sides
of the ship have been freshly painted with a variety of colourful
symbols, one for each clan, one for the Republic, and one for the
liberated city of Ellish. In the farground, the figurehead of an angry
Zin can be seen at the front of the vessel, seemingly made of solid
gold, with eyes of finest sapphire. A skeleton crew exists below deck,
but they are under orders not to interact with any of the 'newcomers'.
They are here strictly to man the oars.
Aeryk comes out from the officer's quarter, with Davonos a little behind him. And for a moment, he draws a bit of a scroll out to write something down. "Naturally, naturally. I get all my good ideas now. Perhaps, if Commander Tagda does not pillory me for forgetting to tell her I was leaving, I will have something to present." And tuck the scroll away he does, looking half-self-conscious. As if more ready to think Air Force than challenge. *Firan*
Marsalos has been sitting on deck, talking to Srenni for a while. As people start to come out for the challenge, he shuffles away the large pieces of papyrus he was drawing his maps on, tucking them safely away.
Mamoon yawns a bit as he wanders out from the shadows but, upon spotting Davonos, he is off to his usual shouting. "Captain Dull Hatchet, you will relieve one of your officers of duty. Henceforth, there will be a captain and an officer, but no more than those will have titles. Or immunity." He also stamps his foot somewhat petulantly on the wooden deck and yells, "Set sail for the OPEN OCEAN!" And obediently, the crew complies below. *Firan*
Zutani is sipping on a cup of tea by the amphora and silently watching as the people start filing onto the deck. Her gaze moves to the water when the call to start sailing is yelled.
Gemma hears Mamoon, but doesn't say anything. The Ticanee Dame merely watches the waters as the rowers begin their work.
"Ah." Aeryk pulls out of his post-scritch muse to - pull the scroll back out and scribble furiously again. The rock of the boat all aside.
As he hears the call to move out to open waters, Marsalos raises an eyebrow slightly, expression quite curious. He shrugs his backpack off, setting it down near his hammocky spot on the deck.
Srenni looks up as people begin filtering onto the deck, rising from her seat beside Marsalos to start stripping off her armor, at the call. She lofts a brow as Davonos whispers to her, and murmurs something in return.
Aeryk glances up at Srenni and Davonos, his expression taking that inward set, as if already forming some conclusion or the other. Back to the scribbling.
The boat comes to an abrupt halt, not far from the Cliffs of Insanity. They are very high, however, and so it is no surprise that one can still see them on the horizon, but no other land is in sight. The old man waits impatiently, watching Davonos, before he shouts to the faceless crew below, "Sink anchor, prepare to come up top!"
Davonos looks a bit tired and scruffed, not having shaven today, so that he's got a bit of a five o'clock shadow going along with the dirt that darkens his armor. At Mamoon's news, he frowns, and glances to the two officers that he does have. Still frowning, it takes him a moment to mutter a question at Srenni, so that he does not answer Mamoon just yet. And...then just yet arrives. "I will retain Runagate." *Firan*
Srenni's hand moves to the sword at her side, which she kept despite abandoning her armor. She does not remove it, but goes to stand with Davonos again, eyes on the ladder leading below deck.
Marsalos rests one hand on his sword hilt as the ship draws closer to the cliffs and the call goes out to down below. One brow lofts slightly, but his expression looks relaxed as ever as he watches this.
Aeryk inclines his head in acknowledgment, his expression the very image of unsurprised. Two more lines of scribble, and scroll tucks away and stays there. He glances downward into the the ladder himself while doing a preliminary stretch. Fingers locked, hands stretched overhead.
The crew shambles up, all looking to be the same man doubled over and over. If one looks hard enough, differences are apparent, but dirt does a good job of covering them. They are all large men, wired with muscle from constant rowing, and most are in middle age. All have the dark hair, skin, and eyes of the Bear clan. Mamoon gestures toward them. "Fellas, go over and take a seat on the deck." He waits a long moment, grinning wickedly, and tells the group, "I need an anti-captain."
Marsalos lifts his chin, once. "I will put myself in for anti-captain, Mamoon." *Firan*
Aeryk glances aside to Marsalos and inhales deeply, likely as a result of his hands being brought back that far. He's watching the sailors cautiously.
Gemma continues to listen, nodding here and there as she watches the progress of the boat. She doesn't offer herself up as anti-captain, instead she listens to the others speak.
Davonos is not relaxed. He is in fact quite tense as he watches the crew file up from below, jaw locked and eyes dark beneath the awkward shadow of his hat.
Zutani turns away from her examination of the horizon to watch the crew come up deck. As usual, she doesn't speak up to volunteer herself for anti-captain. Instead, she just studies the dirty crew with curiosity.
Marsalos' eyes flicker to the crew once, then back to Mamoon without any movement of his head.
"Mad Mars the Magenta Maelstrom it is then," Mamoon says, satisfied. He points to the crew. "Lucky for you folks, you aren't gonna have to fight these blokes. No, they are going to be your judges." He adopts that same wicked smile as before and asks the anti-captain, "Who will you choose as the first member of your team, then?"
Srenni murmurs back and forth with her captain, but something he says gives her pause, to make a face at him.
Marsalos considers the lineup of people, one brow quirking up at the mention of judging. Ya huh. A slight smirk, and he grunts softly. "I choose Stormborn." *Firan*
Davonos chuckles a little darkly at the face, and shrugs. "You never know," is his slightly louder reply, and he scratches the back of his neck. *Firan*
Mamoon turns his dual-coloured eyes upon Srenni then. "You?" *Firan*
Gemma watches Marsalos make his choice and continues to stand quietly on deck.
Srenni gestures to Davonos. He has the hat!
Mamoon coughs. And looks toward Davonos. "Oh, right." *Firan*
Aeryk inclines his head deep to Marsalos and moves over beside this anti-captain the next.
"Gem-Booty," says Davonos, who tries not to look too flustered at the switcharoo. He is not whipped. Honest.
Mamoon looks back to Marsalos, wordlessly.
Gemma nods to Davonos and goes to stand with her Captain.
Marsalos lofts a brow at Mamoon. There's only one left. His bright green eyes find the last person standing. "Flint, you're with me." *Firan*
Zutani nods to Marsalos and moves to stand by him and Aeryk.
Mamoon announces unceremoniously once teams are chosen, "You are not competing in teams in this challenge." That having sunk in, he explains, "You will, however, be scored as teams. You all have to be skilled with a weapon, even if it is merely your fists, in order to be a suitable Supreme Pirate. You also have to be able to inspire men as well - and this adventure will put both of these proficiencies to the test. You will combat each other, tournament style, in this way - first you will demonstrate your weapon proficiency, and then you will taunt your opponent in some way. The crew will judge the winner and the loser will be summarily ejected from the boat, into the ocean below! So I hope you all can swim. The winner goes on to round two. He who lasts to first place gets 5 points for his team. 2nd gets 4 points, and 3rd gets 2 points for his team. The team with the highest score at the end will win." OOC rules to follow. *Firan*
<OOC> Mamoon says, "You will pair up, one against one. You will roll <some physical attribute> + <some weapon skill - if you haven't got it with you, assume it's provided) at 7. You will also roll Shrewdness + Slander OR Intimidation at 7. The pirates will 'rate' you based on your scores, so it's not really subjective even if the RP says it is. The highest combined score over 3 rounds (1 of each roll per round, plus a pose against the opponent) will win. Poses should be some impressive feat of martial prowess (EMPHASISING the attribute you chose to use) plus a taunt at your opponent, based on the skill you used - meanspirited or just intimidating."
Mamoon shouts, "The first pairing in this Insult Swordfighting contest is the Stormborn versus Captain Dull Hatchet." *Firan*
Gemma listens to Mamoon and her light brows rise up a bit, but still she remains rather silent.
Zutani winces at the mention of combat and moves towards the side when the first pairing is called. Her gaze moves over the railing to the water warily.
Marsalos looks...amused. He tilts his chin up as Aeryk's called forward, smirking a bit. "Have at it, Stormborn." *Firan*
Aeryk takes his spear from the straps on his backpack and slow treads forward, his feet spreading as he draws to a stop. He's assuming a gradual combat stance. "Davy," he states, tonelessly. *Firan*
Grey Aeryk the Stormborn (Mars) Combat: 0 succs Wit: 4 succs Dull Hatchet Davy Combat: 0 succs Wit: 2 succs
"Stormborn," Davonos replies, less toneless, but approximately as formal as he draws out his bow, and takes aim upward.
Aeryk draws his fingers tight around the spear and steps forward. This is meant to be a show of raw power, a push-down of feet, a swing-forward of spear, indicative of precisely how easily the spear-point sails through the air - and that iron and leather would not hold up much better. Unfortunately, it's as wan a show of muscle that was ever shown, and the spear end even dips laxly once or twice. But Aeryk makes up for it with speech. "Dull Hatchet Davy. You have seen battle, have you? You have not truly seen battle. Your arrows may stick in me in great numbers, but I will keep coming, and you will be impaled on my blade long before I have shed enough blood to feel faint." *Firan*
Davonos nocks and arrow, aims, releases, and...verily misses the white speck of a seagull circling overhead. The bird calls its irritable alarm at the miss, and circles away unscathed. A little put off by this fine display of fail, it takes the Hydran several seconds to regather himself enough to say in a low, menacing voice, "Fortunately you make a larger target than a seagull." Then Aeryk's words sink in, and he lowers his bow a little. *Firan*
The crew, for its part, seems to rather enjoy Aeryk's taunt of Davonos, though more than one of the burly men snort at his 'display' with the spear. They slap their knees and wrangle each other into headlocks in what either looks like comraderie, or the beginnings of a riot. They cackle aloud at the Dull Hatchet's expense, though about half of them seem to rather like his jibe against his opponent as well.
Aeryk lowers his spear and being a fellow rather sluggish to switch moods, continues to favor Davonos with a tight-eyed, simmering glare before stepping back.
Mamoon asides to Gemma as the other two brawl, "I'm fully aware this is a rather silly competition, but it is a rather silly prize at the end too. Which does not at all negate its value. In fact, it is the most valuable prize yet." *Firan*
Grey Aeryk the Stormborn (Mars) Combat: 0+2=2 succs Wit: 4+2=6 succs Dull Hatchet Davy Combat: 0+0=0 succs Wit: 2+2=4 succs
"Sometimes wit is important as physical prowess," Gemma tells the old man and watches the two go at it. "The two seem rather well matched so far, though."
Marsalos watches this very closely, the smirk on his face no different from the one he normally wears. His eyes track each man as they circle and give their various attacks and parries with words and weapons both.
Aeryk feels like breaking it up, it seems, after that rather poor attempt at stomping and spear-jutting. So he draws his bow out and handily sends an arrow soaring mastwise - where it sticks. An impressive, if not superlative, show of skill. And then he proceeds with a somewhat less intense threat of an insult. "If you hid behind a crate, if you slipped down deck in fear, my arrows would still find you. Imagine how easily they shall find you while you but stand here." *Firan*
Davonos is also a bit sluggish to switch moods, which may be why he's having such a hard time getting into the spirit of things. His face darkens at the crew's laughter, though, and he begins to seek out another target more deliberately, only to fumble his next arrow. It clatters to the deck unimpressively, but rather than stoop after it, he leaves it and glowers back at Aeryk without shying from the thunk of his arrow into the mast. "I am more mobile and more ill-tempered than your average mast, Stormborn, and I have proven my strength on the battlefield, if not here. You might have more on your hands than you think." *Firan*
The group still rather favours Aeryk, it would seem. They hoot and holler at the Stormborn's mediocre show of weaponry - the best they have seen yet, and so they will take it. Davonos does not impress them with his weaponry, and they seem to be lukewarm to the insults thrown by both men, though some laughter sounds. Unless Davonos really pulls something out, it seems the crew's ready to bum-rush him off the deck.
Grey Aeryk the Stormborn (Mars) Combat: 2+2=4 succs Wit: 6+0=6 succs Dull Hatchet Davy Combat: 0+0=0 succs Wit: 4+2=6 succs
Aeryk pulls the spear out again to make another attempt at an intimidating charge. This is rather better, plant of foot after plant of foot, each step managing a solid whump on the deck and every jut forward of the spear just far enough. It is, again, not superlative. But it serves. The insult does not. "I would run." *Firan*
Another arrow clatters to the deck. The only real explanation for this is that his fingertips are still numb. MAYBE. Regardless of the cause, he fails again, and is left to stand tall before Aeryk's charge. "I will die before I run, and you will...die before I die." The only thing that makes this intimidating is the flex of his muscles and the bare of his teeth. Otherwise he's...somewhat lacking from the creative end.
The crew has seen enough. They erupt from their seats in unison and rush toward Davonos, all shouts and waving arms, their intent clear - they are going to chase him off the deck and into the humiliation of an oceanic bath below. "Ya were beat boy," they shout at the captain - who nevertheless has immunity this night.
Marsalos smirks at Aeryk's last insult, nodding once as he comes out victorious. Other than that, the Iberik remains quite still.
Gemma watches their Captain and winces. Bet those waters are cold!
Srenni frowns slightly, moving towards the rail -- to watch. Just in case.
Aeryk also rather moves toward the rail. His faked, then real, ire has faded as the contest faded - at least enough to make his last insult rather dull. But even if he were still ferocious, it is ungallant to force another man drowned.
True to his word, Davonos doesn't run. But he is not so large that he may not be shoved and jostled to the end of the line, which he seems about to leap off of himself before he is uncerimoniously pushed. And...off he goes, limbs flailing a bit until he claps hard into the water, and vanishes. ...For maybe just a second or two too long before he comes up coughing, spitting, and dog-paddling. Possibly also swearing.
Mamoon watches Davonos go, restraining a chuckle but only barely, and he shouts out, "Next is Mad Mars the Magenta Maelstrom versus Gem-booty! Step up and ready your weapons for my call." *Firan*
Marsalos raises an eyebrow as he watches Davonos go off the edge. He ignores Mamoon for a moment as he keeps an eye on Davonos down there, particularly when the man stays submerged for so long. His body tenses, as if ready to go over the rail instead of into the game...then he sees Dav come sputtering up, and he exhales slowly.
Gemma steps up, pulling off her spear and nodding towards Marsalos, "Mad Mars, we meet with our weapons against one another this time." she says, waiting to begin. *Firan*
Ah, well, no drowning. But Aeryk does keep a part of his attention Davy-ward as Marsalos steps up.
Marsalos turns back, looking at Gemma. He nods, his hands coming down to his sides. "Gem-booty. We meet again." (Bond.) *Firan*
Mamoon says "Go!" *Firan*
The crew settles back down, ready for another showing. Whiskey is indiscreetly passed around.
Gem-booty Gemma (Davy) Combat: 5 succs Wit: 1 succ Mad Mars the Magenta Maelstrom Combat: 3 succs Wit: 1 succ
Srenni continues to watch Davonos, though she occasionally looks to Gemma and Marsalos. Still. Going to keep an eye on him. She has one hand on the rail, and her muscles are tense.
Gemma begins, slinging off her spear and twirling around a bit to show off her bulging muscles. She eyes Marsalos a moment before going on, "Mad Marsalos, while you have a sharp ------ and keen wit, it seems to be a bit sharper than your ------- While some might praise this, I wonder if you plan to kill ----- by licking them to death?" she poses, teal eyes twinkling as she continues feinting at him while showing off her muscle tone. *Firan*
Awkward in the water at best, Davonos manages to thrash his way back to the boat side to begin the process of dragging himself up. With waterlogged leather armor weighing him down, his progress isn't particularly swift or elegant, but he does eventually flop soggily back onto the deck. He coughs again, but fortunately for whoever is on swabbing duty, he doesn't do anything worse.
For this first round, Marsalos' hands stay down at his sides. Where's his weapon? He's...gone for none! His feet begin to move, up on the balls of his feet as he starts to shift around, an agile pass to the side to move out of the way of her blade. His arms come up with a quick flash, fists ready in a show of speed rather than power. "Gem-booty, watch you don't break that spear. When you fall to my hand and go crashing off this deck, I'll be needing it to pull you out like a fish."
The seamen have long been at the oar, and there are no women among them. Seeing this Ticanee pose really seems to delight them - some hoot and whistle while others simply stare. They are so busy oggling her muscles and her form with that spear that they don't really seem to pay much attention to the commentary, but Gem's booty catches their eyes and holds them. So much so that Marsalos' showing gets only a few oohs and ahs, though it is inherently more impressive than most of the entire last contest, even if his insult is not considered the same calibre.
Gem-booty Gemma (Davy) Combat: 5+4=9 succs Wit: 1-1=0 succs Mad Mars the Magenta Maelstrom Combat: 3+3=6 succs Wit: 1+2=3 succs
Gemma continues to show off her 'booty' and muscles to the sailors, though she falls a bit short on actually thinking of a good insult this time. The hoots catch her off guard and she simply stares at Marsalos, "I do hate pink." she notes to him as she poses for the men on deck. *Firan*
Marsalos' hands suddenly whip overhead, his bow out in in his hands in no time. An arrow drawn almost from the moment it's in front of him, a swift draw sending the iron piece slamming into the deck a mere inch from her left foot. "You'll get used to it after I embarass you clean off this deck." *Firan*
Gemma's body still holds a great deal of the crew's attention, but her insult falls completely flat. They look at her as if she's sprouted a second head for a moment, the only sound the rolling waves. Then they turn to Marsalos, expecting much better - and the Eagle delivers. They cheer his show of combat prowess, and the insult goes down well too. They cheer the Maelstrom, some shouting 'did you see that arrow?! He'd cream her' - though about half of the others are still transfixed by Gemma's... Assets. It's essentially a tie.
Gem-booty Gemma (Davy) Combat: 9+4=13 succs Wit: 0+2=2 succs Mad Mars the Magenta Maelstrom Combat: 6+4=10 succs Wit: 3+0=3 succs
Mamoon points to Srenni and Zutani. "Clearly, you're both next. Get ready! And then it'll be a three way match to determine the winner, see." *Firan*
Gemma continues on, showing off her muscles as she goes and adding a little flare this time. She twirls around with her spear, jabbing here and there and letting the short suede dress do it's work, "While your arrows --- be strong and to the point, I doubt your manhood would be so ready, Mad Maelstrom. For no man but a Ticanee could go in - ---- with me and come out having satisfied my needs; ---------- one that might ------ to use that sharp tongue on my -----" Yes, the insult is a bit off, but it's at least creative! *Firan*
Zutani nods silently to Mamoon from where she's been watching by the railing. Slipping down below deck, she returns with a sword borrowed a little while back from Gemma before going to where she was standing before.
Davonos pushes up to stand at a time, pirate hat still miraculously mashed down onto his head, though he removes it long enough to shake it out once he's finished his coughing fit, only to start up again a bit when he catches the tail end of Gemma's insult. Oh. My.
Fwip FWIP! Not one but two arrows this time, which lodge themselves cleanly into the posts just past Gemma's ears. Marsalos is ready to deliver a STUNNING REPARTEE when...she...wait... "WHAT?!"
The insult doesn't need to be on for this crew. They decide that the Maelstrom cannot win against those fabulous poses of hers, and so they shout raucously after his last exclamation and they bumrush him, intending to toss him overboard!
Srenni nearly chokes at Gemma's insult, and her eyes narrow. So not what this noblewoman expected to hear.
At least Marsalos can swim! He jams the bow back onto his backpack just in time to meet the headlong rush of burly sailors, and he goes pitching easily backwards off the rail. His voice follows him down. "Son of a FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECK!" SPLASH.
Gemma nods to the cheering crew and goes back to stand with her team.
Aeryk does not - actually understand what Gemma says for a minute. And then he does manage a "--" of shock before making sure Marsalos doesn't drown. All in its time. *Firan*
Mamoon laughs aloud at that as Marsalos goes SPLASH, and then he turns his eyes upon the pair of women arranged before him. "Alright then, get ready. At my word, you know what to do." He squints at Flint and Ren, clearly Mad Mars out of sight and out of mind. *Firan*
Srenni watches over the side of the rail, to make sure Marsalos doesn't drown, despite his being a fish. But she can't wait too long. Her intense green eyes level on Zutani, unblinking, as she waits.
Mamoon says "GO!" *Firan*
Drown? Marsalos Iberik does not DROWN. His hand is visible after just a minute or two, grabbing hold of the side of the rail as he hoists himself back up, dripping wet and muttering.
Flint (Mars) Combat: 3 succs Wit: 1 succ Runagate Ren (Davy) Combat: 3 succs Wit: 1 succ
Davonos is creating a bit of a puddle between the shoulder-width apart plant of his boots. There is, perhaps, the slightest of smirks on his face when Gemma rejoins him, but it is quick to fade when he clears his throat.
Marsalos wipes water out of his eyes, shaking his hair out in a rather doglike fashion before moving over towards his team side, now watching Zutani and Srenni.
No one left to watch not-drown, so Aeryk folds his arms and watches the new run unfold. One thing is certain - he's competing with Gemma. May Uf grant she not talk about his manhood.
Zutani lifts the unfamiliar sword, testing first it's weight. Moving lightly on her feet towards Srenni, she doesn't smile. Too much tension. Moves learned long ago, she stabs her sword towards Srenni. It takes her a little while to think up something to say. "I may not be a fighter but I can hold my way through a few fights. You should stand aside now and let me win." *Firan*
Oh, good. Srenni's attention can be upon her little challenge since Marsalos has brought himself up. Her hand checks the railing and she -- hops up on it, grabbing up her sword and evading the sword stab. She strides down it a ways, making some flashy display with her sword. She doesn't even seem to be wobbling to fall off it at all. Then suddenly, she turns, pointing her long sword straight at Zutani, cold gaze bearing down at her. She is not so eloquent, truly. "You /will/ stand down. Srenna guide my arm, I will strike you down."
Both Srenni and Zutani impress the crew with their martial prowess, if not with their wit. Both men whistle and cheer, impressed by the show of swords, equally from each participant. Someone will have to break the tie.
Flint (Mars) Combat: 3+3=6 succs Wit: 1+3=4 succs Runagate Ren (Davy) Combat: 3+1=4 succs Wit: 1+1=2 succs
Zutani moves deftly away from Srenni sword, her golden eyes completely focused on this fight. She is not easily intimidated by Srenni's words, however. She then slashes her sword towards her opponent with a single-minded purpose. "Those words won't scare me. I -lived- with Sir Vasyklo most of my life. I have heard scarier words. You, however, will be the one to be struck down today." *Firan*
And, oh -- maybe getting up on the railing was /not/ a good idea. The ship sways and -- Srenni has to get down, and it is not as graceful as she hoped. But she keeps her sword between her and Zutani, which is truly enough for her; she is not usually so flashy, anyway. "Sir Vasyklo was a good man, but I grew up with Dr--" No, she cannot finish that. And it rather destroys any hope of intimidation.
This round clearly belongs to Zutani. The crew seems quite impressed by the way she moves her sword about as if it were an extension of her arm, and the devastating rebuttal she delivers to Srenni is enough to get them howling with cheers and laughter, fueled by booze as they are. "Here here, strike her down," some shout too-loudly, a habit they must have learned from their Dread Pirate Captain. They do not, sadly, settle down long enough to consider Srenni's merits - and so her efforts, unspectacular as they are, go virtually unnoticed.
Flint (Mars) Combat: 6+1=7 succs Wit: 4+1=5 succs Runagate Ren (Davy) Combat: 4+2=6 succs Wit: 2+0=2 succs
Zutani keeps her distance from Srenni's sword but she isn't moving her sword as well as before. She slashes to Srenni and tries to roll away from the sword coming at her with some sluggishness. There's a moment's pause, to catch her breath, before her next words emerges. "I fear today I WILL win, Runagate Ren. And you will lose." *Firan*
Srenni shoves her sword into her belt, skirting out of the way of Zutani's sword and moves in, hand positioned to intercept Zutani's wrist should she try to strike again. But, truly. Words fail her. Runagate Ren is a doer, not a talker. One corner of her mouth tugs up in a smirk and, when they finish, she backs off.
Flint rides the wave of her last comment to victory, luckily for her. She is not nearily as impressive this round, either by blade or by word, but the men ignore it, still chatting noisily as they are about her last showing. Runagate Ren may perform better with her wrist-grappling, but the lack of commentary falls flat - it only serves to remind the men that it is now judging time, and they rush at her like a pack of bulls, intending to toss her overboard!
Screw getting pushed over. Srenni hops up on the railing and dives into the sea! She doesn't want to be manhandled!
Marsalos looks rather proud of Zutani, eyes flickering over to Srenni as she goes leaping off. A slight grin cracks on his face.
Aeryk nods in decisive approval of Srenni's action. Shows great initiative.
The men seem to regret the missed opportunity - they grumble at not being allowed to push at the ex-captain, but she was perhaps wise to toss herself overboard. The Dread Pirate eyes Gemma, Aeryk, and Zutani. "Flint, Stormborn, Gem-booty. Front and center! All against each other, this time. /Two/ rounds and only two rounds to impress the men."
Mamoon adds, "Gemma has to win first place, or else the other team wins." *Firan*
Gemma nods to the pirate and moves front and center.
Zutani rolls her shoulder to alleviate the slight aching from lifting the heavy sword, clearly not used to using it. She looks over the railing to check on Srenni. "Are you alri..." Not even time to check on her! She moves towards Gemma and Aeryk. *Firan*
Davonos leans over to mutter something to Gemma when Srenni concedes and leaps overboard. When she's called back over to Mamoon, he moves to the side of the boat to squint down after Srenni as if he'd be able to do something about it if a shark ate her or something. Maybe he could throw arrows at it.
Aeryk inclines his head and steps forward to take his place. Two women. This will be difficult. The crew members have rather favored the women.
Marsalos heads over to the railing to wait for Srenni, still smirking a bit at her hasty exit. He kneels down as the others get to the competition, holding down a hand to offer to Srenni in assistance.
It takes a bit of time for Srenni to come back up. Perhaps the dive took her really deep. Perhaps she got disoriented. But when she comes up, she gasps for air, paddling in place. And she does not quite find the rope. Where is the thing?
Gemma peers over the side for Runagate and calls down, "Um are you alright? Should Mad Mars come get you?" She doesn't offer herself since she doesn't favor drowning them both. *Firan* Mamoon shouts, "GO!", clearly sure that Srenni is alright. *Firan*
Marsalos purses his lips at Srenni, getting down a bit further on the deck. "Ren, here!" He calls to pull her attention. He grabs the rope up, yanking it over towards her to latch onto. Else he's going to have to jump in there. *Firan*
Gem-booty Gemma (Davy) Combat: 5 succs Wit: 3 succs Grey Aeryk the Stormborn (Mars) Combat: 2 succs Wit: 3 succs Flint (Mars) Combat: 0 succs Wit: 2 succs
Gemma whirls around with her spear once more, holding it aloft towards Zutani and Aeryk both. "Argh, you won't find a booty no better than mine, the men are so ----- they ---- a line.." she begins, flexing and unflexing as she shoves the spiked sword towards them and then away, "----- I --- off with the real booty you two can console each other by talking about the great Gem-Booty and her conquests!" *Firan*
Less helpful, Davonos does at least watch Srenni and Marsalos with some intensity while the rope is slung over into a better position. Unfortunately, he'd be as or less helpful than Gemma if he jumped in, so he stays planted where he is and tries to keep an ear tuned to the ongoing battle.
Aeryk does his darnedest. But his best spear-play is a pale shadow against Gemma's. Thus, he decides to respond with a different kind of attack, "Your display is certainly a marvelous show, but that is all it is - a flex of muscles, a flash of flesh. There is no real danger in your posturing, or in you." *Firan*
Srenni swims around a bit longer, but whirls around as Mars calls her attention. There it is! She swims over, and hauls herself up easily enough. Good thing she shed the armor afterall. She pulls herself up over the side of the ship and leans against the railing. "Thank you, Mad Mars," she offers, catching her breath. *Firan*
Zutani is definitely not having much luck this time around with dodging the others' weapons and her sword isn't as flashy as the other two's. In fact, she almost steps right into Gemma's spear. "I'm not interested in your booty, thank you very much. In fact, you can just leave that somewhere for all I care." She's a woman, after all, and she has her own booty. *Firan*
Marsalos nods to Srenni, keeping on his attention on her long enough to be certain she's on her feet before he looks back at the competition going on. He folds his arms over his chest.
The men are enthralled by Gemma's body as always, and the fact that she took the effort to make a rhyme for them clearly makes her their favourite this round. They love to shout her pirate name emphasising the last two syllables, cheering her as they go. Aeryk has won a few over by merit of his cutting attacks against flashy Gem-booty, but poor Zutani is virtually ignored amongst all the tumult.
Mamoon discreetly sets the chest aside.
Gem-booty Gemma (Davy) Combat: 5-1=4 succs Wit: 3+1=4 succs Grey Aeryk the Stormborn (Mars) Combat: 2+2=4 succs Wit: 3+0=3 succs Flint (Mars) Combat: 0+1=1 succ Wit: 2+2=4 succs
Srenni is too busy catching her breath and getting water out of her eyes to notice whatever she's not noticing! She shakes her head, to rid it of some water -- her hair is short enough, anyway.
Gemma really gets off her game this time! In fact, she totally forgets what she's doing when she notices Mamoon leering at her, "Er...." she starts, fumbling with her spear, "You might not want /my/ booty but I bet you want -----" This directed towards Aeryk. *Firan*
Something appears to catch Marsalos' attention. It takes him a second to figure out what it is, his eyes flickering over towards the chest. One brow starts to arch a bit. "What the feck..." He says under his breath.
Aeryk does not improve upon his spear work, but it's consistent, persistent, dogged. However, Aeryk's only response to Gemma is a "I want what?" Ah, the language barrier. He does sound peeved, though. *Firan*
Davonos does not notice either, with his attention still pulled between the recovering Srenni and the exchange of weapon strikes and insults. He scrubs a hand up over his jaw and remains fairly openly oblivious.
Marsalos whispers "That chest's making noises." *Firan*
Zutani doesn't mind being ignored. In fact, she takes advantage of it and is able to concentrate more on her sword's play, putting her sword between herself and her opponents. Her golden eyes narrow slightly as she tries to figure out what Gemma said. Then she says, "Having a little trouble, my friends? Perhaps you both should stop talking to one another and concentrate a little." Big words. *Firan*
Aeryk gets a large number of crewmembers to come over to surround him as their pick, particularly at the last moment, and for a moment it seems he may pull off a win. In the last moments however, enough of the crew drift Gem-booty's way, and she is clearly the victor in this last contest. Zutani gets a few stragglers to come her way, but her crowd is small by comparison. GEMMA - 5 points. ZUTANI - 2 points. Aeryk - 3 points. TIE! Mamoon shouts, "We need a tie breaker. And you know what we're going to do? We're going to flip a coin." He pulls out a steni. "You there, current captain Hatchet, call your pick."
Srenni squints at something Marsalos says to her. She stops whatever she was doing to murmur back.
You whisper "...noises? What sort of noises?" to Marsalos. *Firan*
Marsalos whispers "I can't...really hear. Just noises." *Firan*
A tie, after all that work! Gem-Booty frowns and looks to Davonos. It's all on him now.
"Tails," says Davonos, voice a bit gruff. He looks doubtful.
Aeryk is /still/ watching Gemma peevishly. Then his attention passes to the captain. Sort of.
Mamoon licks his lips, nods his head, and flips the coin high into the air...
Marsalos mutters quietly to Srenni as the coin flippage goes on.
<OOC: ROLL> Mamoon flips a steni and it comes up tails.
Mamoon says "The Captain's team wins! Dull Hatchet and Runagate Ren have immunity!" *Firan*
Zutani looks to Mamoon, ignoring the crowd ignoring her. Are they done then? Stepping back, she lets the sword tip rest on the wooden deck and watches quietly as to what happens now. At the announcement, she only nods and goes find a place to sit.
Gemma lets out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding and stands there, putting away her spear.
Davonos breathes, but his face remains closed, showing no open relief as he nods to Mamoon, and then Gemma. "Impressive performance, as usual, Gem...Booty." That last part is always a little difficult for him to say. *Firan*
Marsalos purses his lips as it's all decided by coin flip. He shrugs one shoulder, nodding to his team. They did better than he did. He glances at the chest again with a rather odd look before moving back over to his teammates.
"Ah," Aeryk says, low and half-growled, and he finally stops giving unfriendly glances and rejoins his team.
Mamoon nods solemnly after the crew makes their pick and then shouts, "NOW GET BACK DOWN THERE AND ROW US TO SHORE!" They grumble but comply, and before long the ship is again in motion. "The four of you who are remaining are up for the vote - and you are the only ones who /can/ vote. Two of you will go home tonight. Two of you will go to the final against the captain and his officer. When you are ready, whisper your votes to me." *Firan*
Gemma murmurs something to Davonos before finally going over to Mamoon and giving her vote.
Aeryk murmurs something to Marsalos, and approaches Mamoon with a hint of wariness.
Mamoon listens quietly to all of the votes, and then turns his eyes upon Zutani.
Zutani looks back at Mamoon without much of a surprise. "Have I been voted off then?" she asks curiously. *Firan*
Davonos exchanges low dialogue with Srenni and Gemma in turn, but his brow remains furrowed and his eyes narrow long after the initial snip of conversation between captain and officer.
Mamoon tells her, "I need yer vote, lass." *Firan*
Marsalos puts in his vote, his face remaining neutral as he turns back towards the others.
Zutani just shakes her head to the old man. "I already voted. But if you need it again," she obediently stands back up to whisper to Mamoon one last time and goes back to sit down. *Firan*
Srenni murmurs back and forth with Davonos, not really paying attention yet, since she can't do anything yet anyway.
Mamoon looks very solemn at this point. He tells all the assembled, "You are the final six. I am very proud to have ALL of you that remain on my ship, and I think you would /any one of you/ make a fine Supreme Pirate, but it is with sorrow that I must force two of you overboard. The first, with three votes against her, is Gem-booty Gemma." He smiles at her wanly. "You will be missed." The crew, fortunately below the decks, might mutiny if they heard. Then he adds, "With only one vote, the other is Flint, who will leave tonight. Her quiet strength will also be missed. That means your final four is the Magenta Maelstrom, the Dull Hatchet, Runagate Ren, and the Stormborn." *Firan*
Gemma knew she'd be going and salutes the captain, "It's been fun, Mamoon, but it's time for me to go win some festival games. Thank --- for the chance." When she hears of the votes though, her eyes do widen a bit and she stares at someone feeling betrayed. *Firan*
As always, a canoe is hoisted up, ready to be lowered into the sea for the long journey home. What is unusual, however, is that there is another identical to it on the opposite side of the ship. Mamoon stands quietly, looking solemn.
Gemma goes over and plants a kiss on the old pirate before she takes her place on the ship. She does hand off her flask to Davy.
"It was an interesting adventure," Zutani nods to Mamoon. "I have had a lot of fun. May the gods be with the rest of you." Her gaze moves to Gemma and with a faint sigh, she murmurs something softly to the Ticanee woman before moving to the side where the canoe is waiting.
Srenni comes up from her whispering at the announcement, and bows her head to both Gemma and Flint. "It was good to have the two of you along," she offers. She lofts her brow at the, uh, kiss. Or maybe it's the two canoes. *Firan*
Aeryk inclines his head deep toward Zutani and a little less deep toward Gemma, retaining a certain peevishness. "Both fine competitors. Zutani has that wisdom I wish I had heard voiced more often," is said perhaps a bit hypocritically. And toward Gemma, "And as a fighter, few are your equal. But, ah, really. Booty. Less booties. Please." *Firan*
Marsalos takes a second to speak very quietly to Davonos. About what, it's impossible to tell; his face is neutral.
Davonos looks at the flask in his hands a little blankly, and spares Gemma a sliver of a smile and a nod before he steps back to exchange a few quiet words with Marsalos. There is a looot of quiet conversation going on around the deck.
Zutani smiles to everyone and says, "Good luck all of you. May be best pirate win." That said, she gets into canoe to go home and a soft bed! *Firan*
Marsalos even smiles a little. A little. Even if always seems to look like it hurts his face to do it.
Mamoon smiles at those that remain, and then looks over at the chest. "Well, it's yours to take boys. Go ahead and look inside." There is a... Scratching, notably audible now. *Firan*
Aeryk actually looks at this chest with - more interest than the other chests.
Mamoon adds contemplatively, "Every pirate takes whatever booty he can get, so long as it is worth a bundle." *Firan*
Marsalos is curious as well, but, yanno. Cautious. He draws his sword just in case, moving over to one side of the noisy chest.
Aeryk does shift his hands tighter over his weapon, but his curiosity is paramount. He does not remark further on booty - probably just unsure as to what to say. Wit isn't, his helpful insults aside, his strength.
Davonos steps towards the chest after some final conversation with Srenni. Whatever he says last is quiet, if quite emphatic, and he crouches to pry the chest open, teeth ground against the scratching within.
A very tiny puppy, clearly only a month and a half old, if that, sits inside the chest. It whimpers a little, clearly frightened. A male toy spaniel, worth millions in Anarinuell, curled up with a pair of diamonds.
Marsalos just...eyes the chest. The dog. What. For a second he does look pretty damn tempted to stab the thing, his nose wrinkling.
Aeryk puts his spear down. And sighs. "Another spaniel. I cannot possibly take it, for I cannot keep a spaniel. It is not precisely, ah, masculine for a pet. And my sister already has two." Yes. Royals are disgusting. *Firan*
"The thing can always be sold. It is plunder, lad." And with that, Mamoon seems about to do his disappear-into-the-shadows-until-tomorrow schtick.
"Sell it when we get back and split the stenis," Srenni offers. Although. The only non-noble has no sponsor. Alas. She's not taking the thing.
Marsalos groans, looking at it again. "My wife has been wanting one of these for a year now. Why, I cannot say." He shrugs. "Your choice what to do with it." Clearly, he does not like them, Sam I Am. *Firan*
Tension wired taut into the back of his neck and shoulders, Davonos turns up the lid quickly, as one would flip up a rock if they fully expected to find a rattlesnake underneath. But no. ...A puppy. He stares at it a little blankly, and looks up at the others. Not for the first time tonight, he chuckles a little to himself.
"If you wish to sell the puppy and divide the stenis, this is fine with me." Aeryk and plunder - stenis still do not excite him. Spoiled, spoiled.
Marsalos twitches a bit, sliding his blade away. "Long as there's somewhere to put it where it won't...get out and drool all over everything." *Firan*
"I do not have a sponsor, at current. I have been looking for one." Glancing back down to the dog, Davonos draws in a slower, calming breath, and extends a hand slowly down towards the little creature. "I could take it for the short term, and sell it as soon as I am able. Rest assured that I have gained enough here that I have little motivation to hold out on any of you on this."
"I can also take the spaniel for the short term. I have nothing against them as animals. Just as, ah, accessories." But Aeryk does not look ready to interpose himself between captain and spaniel, here.
Srenni begins towards the officer's quarters. She feels naked without her armor, afterall, but is likely glad not to have had it after her dive. "While I could sponsor you, I rather doubt the Hydrans would like it." Poof! *Firan*
And Srenni's back. Armor-ified. Woot.
"Well," Marsalos says, as he backs away from the chest. And the animal. He reaches into the amphora, picking up one of the whiskey bottles. Holding it up carefully to check that it's the RIGHT whiskey bottle, before he starts to pour out some shots. "Tomorrow we compete. For tonight, may I propose a toast. To the final four."
Aeryk takes the whiskey and lifts it high, that ever-formality still in place. "To the final four, then." *Firan*
"A toast, then," says Davonos, who looks to be in better spirits than he has...well. Ever, despite being soggy and faced with the challenge of entertaining a small girly dog over the next several days. "To the final four."
Srenni strides back out of the officer's quarters, to be given whiskey. Well, alright. She raises the glass, echoing flatly, "To the final four. Srenna guide us." She eyes the spaniel, advising, "I rather hope you intend to keep that in your room, away from the rest of us." Or, at least, her. And apparently Mars. *Firan*
"Name it booty," Marsalos suggests, with a cattily amused tone. He lifts his shot. "The final four. It has been an honour." Sealing the toast, he knocks it back.
"It's just a dog. An animal like any animal," Aeryk states with rather more stiff fondness than he accords to most of his acquaintances. And he drains the whiskey, then.
Davonos knocks his whiskey back without as much coughing as the black death stuff brought about, but he can't quite keep himself from making a face as it goes down. "Booty is not a very dignified name for a dog. ...Then again, I suppose it is not a very dignified dog." *Firan*
Marsalos grits his teeth briefly against the burn he's so used to. Once the shot goes down, the Eagle of course picks up the bottle again, pouring out for whoever happens to have their cup too close to him. "That is not a dog. That is a...some manner of mutated, very peevish weasel." He eyes the animal and grunts, looking back at the crew. "Interesting mix we've ended up with." *Firan*
Srenni downs her shot of whiskey, cool green eyes moving between the three men. "Well, I am pleased at who the final four are." She goes along with Marsalos' new string of conversation, not much for -- yappy things. And, look, her cup is filled, since she's near him! "It will make for interesting competition." *Firan*
"I expect that Runagate or Mad Mars will end victors, but surprising things have happened in the competition." And Aeryk keeps watching the dog with that subdued affection. Dooog. "I am glad it is nearly finished. I expect I will have much to deal with at home." Well. He sounds half glad.
"Gods above, I couldn't even win an insult contest against a Ticanee," Marsalos snorts lightly before taking down a second shot. "Not the height of my life, tonight!" But the whiskey helps. And the not being cut thing. "I did not expect Gemma to vote for Flint, that was for certain."
Davonos holds his cup out again, though his jaw is still tilted down at the mutant peeveweasel, a little softer towards the little mess than he probably should be. "We are well mixed. I am glad to have lasted as long as I have. And...if you are willing, Runagate, I believe I am willing to endure anything that my clan should throw at me, if they take offense." *Firan*
Marsalos refills cups left and right! (But you have to drink from the amp, cause the player's lazy)
"At least you did not lose to Flint." Srenni even /grimaces/ a little. No, she is not proud of her performance. "Perhaps I just wanted to go for a swim and didn't realize it. Fortunately, I was rather quick to dive." She knocks another back.
Aeryk refills his shot and idly knocks it back. Sort of idly. "I thought she would have voted for perhaps me. Or perhaps you. I certainly have never been fond of her and she knows it. She is just so - so. She does not understand boundaries." He glances at the bottom of his shot glass and draws his lips tight. "And Flint did do surprisingly well." *Firan*
"I am quite certain she didn't expect me to vote for her," Marsalos muses. "But she does not understand politics either, clearly." He looks at Srenni and chuckles drily. "Sir Vasyklo clearly taught her well. She was impressive with that sword, moreso than I would have been." He fills his cup again, throwing some sobriety to the wind gladly, then wags the cup at Srenni. "That is one thing I wished to speak to you about, Ren. When we spoke of teaching earlier. My skill with a sword is disastrous."
"Unfortunately, I do not think that is an explanation I can resort to. Considering." Considering that Davonos swims about as well as a retarded buffalo. He glances to Srenni when she doesn't reply, measuring, but doesn't pursue the subject. He also hesitates when it comes time for round number three.
Aeryk refills his glass and says, low, "Well, it was not precisely politics that led to my vote. The success has gone to her head and she flaunts herself in such an inappropriate way." But Aeryk's ire is subduing yet a little further and he goes quiet a while. *Firan*
Srenni does not hesitate in the least about the third cup of whiskey, and murmurs something to Davonos. She offers him a nod then looks up again. Back to the conversation at hand! "Mm. Well, I am not poor with a sword -- but perhaps jumping up on the railing was a poor idea. Threw me off. And I am not -- so good with words. Truly. I do not speak as I fight." She lofts a brow at Aeryk, curiously. "Does not understand boundaries? I do not know -- I hardly spoke with her this whole voyage, myself." And to Marsalos: "We will have to work on that, then. I've a bit more to learn from Gaddineez, but surely I can teach you... provided I am not a hopeless teacher." *Firan*
Marsalos says nothing in response to Aeryk's opinion on politics, not going to share his particular hand in the manuevering through this game. He nods to the rest though. "She went home with a good reward. I shall hope she has the honour not to complain." He sniffs lightly, then looks at Srenni and Dav. "Can you not swim at all?" The question goes to the Hydran. He sounds a little surprised. "Perhaps you'd let me show you once we're home. Something to remember me by." He smirks a bit, then to Srenni he nods. "I have been so focused on the bow, fists, and the ballista that I let swords go for a while. I have to do something about that! A pincushion I have no desire to be." *Firan*
"She was persistently kind towards me. I cannot say that I have anything against her, though I will not deny that her manner can...at times be disconcerting." From the line that etches in between his brows, that might be something of an understatement from Davonos's side of things. Brief words exchanged with Srenni, he stoops a bit to loop his fingers lightly under the puppy's ears, and sets to refilling his cup when he straightens. Quietly, granted. "I...cannot swim, no. I suspect it was my physical strength that allowed me to move enough water not to drown today. But if you would like to teach me, I am always willing to learn. It would be an unfortunate way to die." His jaw hollows somewhat, and characteristic gloominess begins to creep back in about his person by the time he downs his next round.
"She, too, didn't speak much with me -- even as my officer." Srenni lifts her shoulders in a shrug. Mm, whiskey. She nods to Marsalos though, replying, "I advise everyone to learn a melee weapon, truly. If your bird is down, you could be stuck, afterall." And she's infantry. And ignoring the puppy.
"I can use a sword," Marsalos replies with a slight smirk. "I am just not fantastic at it, which is what I prefer to be." He nods once, then also nods to Dav. "When we return, then. I'd be happy to." And that's his peace offering to a Hydra for the night. "Well. I am going to get back to work on this map and then get some rest. I shall see you all in the..." He glances up at the rising sun. "The afternoon."
Davonos nods to Marsalos, even a little lax in his acceptance now that the whiskey has crept its way through his bloodstream. "Someday I would like to learn how to use a sword. There are many things I would like to learn." Mr. Obvious swirls the little bit of booze left in his cup, swallows it, and then drops the empty thing back into the amphora to reach for tea instead. "Rest well." *Firan*
"I -- that is what I meant." Maybe Srenni is a little tired too! But she dips a nod to him, offering, "Rest well, Mad Mars. I am sure we will speak more tomorrow."
Davonos flexes his hands a bit after downing the tea, only to frown to himself. Perhaps he should have waited until he was sober to try and tell if they felt any better.
Srenni eyes the spaniel warily. What do noblewomen see in these things? Whatever. Another glass of whiskey for her. "Well. I do admit I never expected the three of us to come out on top. We were not exactly what Mamoon was expecting." *Firan*
"None of us really...have the right bearing, I guess. Mad Mars, perhaps. He seems to enjoy the sea." Drolly relaxed, Davonos takes a few steps away so that he can lean into the railing, and the little dog shuffles hurriedly along after him. "I am sure Mamoon is profiting in entertaiment value, at the very least."
"I do not think Mamoon likes me," Aeryk offers after that so very long silence of his.
Srenni's eyebrows climb her forehead at Aeryk's comment. "Whyever do you think that?" But she does nod her agreement to Davonos, "I believe 'enjoy' is an understatement, truly, after his display the other night. I do not particularly /mind/ the sea, but I would much rather be upon a battlefield, myself." *Firan*
"I believe he thinks I am ridiculous, which is possibly worse." Voice low, Davonos cranes his neck back to peer down at the water, but does not stay at the railing for long. He pushes off, and his first two steps seem directed in the vague direction of the cabin. "Would you prefer to have Booty for the night, Stormborn, or should I take her with me?"
"I do not know. I have just had this impression from the onset that he watches me and finds me wanting in a way - that he is trying to shape me out of. He is not unkind - just - I have this impression." Aeryk long-looks at Davonos for a moment, before recognizing what the booty is. Oh. "I can take him if you wish, but I do not need to take him. And I do not think you ridiculous." Another moment and - "Was it petty, to vote them off? To vote any of them off?"
"Well, voting people off was part of the game, Stormborn. What else were you to do?" Srenni lofts a brow, then shrugs again, moving to lean against the railing. "Granted, I only voted once, to break a tie -- but I rather doubt people were voting without any biases playing in. It was part of the game, anyway. I suppose I could have tried to rid myself of any of you three that yet remain but -- well, I'd rather keep those I feel I am slightly allied with, even if it is a danger to me." It really is politics.
"The voting has made me uncomfortable all along, but it is part of the game. I too have sought to protect those that I trust. I am most sorry about Sabria and Gemma, who did nothing to slight me, but as Runagate says, it is the nature of the game." Davonos continues on for the cabin as he talks, pausing at the door once he gets there. "I am going to follow Mad Mars' example and get some rest. If you do not object, I will take Booty with me as well." And so the pair turns to go, one in clomping boots and the other pattering along like a dingy stuffed animal.
"It is the nature of the game, I do not deny. But it lacks objectivity. I sometimes fear that politics lands positions and roles for those unsuited to them - at least I know we are all, ah, capable." Aeryk refills his dried-empty shot glass with more whiskey, but looks unlikely to actually drink it. "By rights, Gemma was also very capable. Rest well, Captain."
"Rest well, Captain," Srenni echoes Aeryk, nodding to Davonos. She considers Aeryk before stating, "Well -- yes. But it's not just being capable. Your crew could mutiny, afterall. Nobody ever tried, so far as I know, in our game, though. So it is as much politics on a real ship as capability, I'd think."
Davonos nods to both, and ducks out of sight, taking off his damp hat as he goes.
"Capability and likability, then. Mamoon's crew certainly liked her." Aeryk's face, of course, shifts into something like disgust. "But aren't we an easygoing crew altogether. We never had a harsh captain."
A smirk tugs at Srenni's mouth. "I could have been harsh, Stormborn. I did not think it would help me keep going, however." She turns to face the sea, leaning against the railing. "And some ways I could have been harsh would not be within the game."
"In what ways does the game allow harshness? Will one half another one's rations because they did not salute? Because they hesitated before climbing the cliff? It is not Ellish." Aeryk is still holding the shot, undrunk, and he rises to his feet only gradually.
Srenni's fingers tap on the railing. "I could've easily done something to Kai for stealing the food and spying on me. I didn't." She lifts her shoulders in a shrug, then admits, "Though I was about to order him to not speak until I said he could." *Firan*
"This would be an understandable order," Aeryk drawls dry. And long-strides over to the railing beside Srenni. "The trouble with power is using it. Had you been too harsh with Kai, the others may have recoiled and doubted you. It is never wise to rule by fear. You did not."
Srenni looks towards Aeryk as he joins her at the railing. Hmm. "I did not use my power. As captain, my word was law. I could have done anything." She lifts her shoulders in a shrug. "I thought it would work better to keep me on good terms with people." *Firan*
Aeryk dumps the whiskey off the side. As a somewhat baffling gesture, it's probably not a thought-out one. Well, hmm. Didn't feel like drinking it, likely. "There was no /need/ to use it. I think you were wise not to." The younger noble-person pauses. "There have been a lot of politics, haven't there." *Firan*
Srenni actually chuckles quietly, shaking her head and looking back to the sea. "Indirectly, yes. But I never really told anyone how to vote. Only once did it not go the way I planned, but it worked out, didn't it? The four of us all made it, as I'd hoped." She leans forward on her elbows. "I could've bribed people, or built more alliances -- but I didn't." *Firan*
"I know Marsalos has been - busy, if he has spoken little such to me. I think he doubts my capacity for such things." Aeryk rolls the now lighter shot between his fingers. "But I see it this way. Had you bribed, had you pleaded, had you done like Razaq and Daemio and made your move fervantly and early, you would have looked too desperate. You bore yourself as a hero's daughter should - confident of your suitability, but not over-proud. Not flaunting."
Srenni's eyes lower briefly, her lips pressing together. "Yes. Well. It is just the way I am, really. Can you see me begging?" A pause. "Though, much as I am proud of my mother, I think people give me too much credit, being the daughter of a hero. I've much to prove before I can say I've lived up to her." *Firan*
"Naturally, I cannot. It is not your temperament." Aeryk's eyes slip toward Srenni, his shot-roll becoming slower. "Ah, but it is a burden also, is it not? The credit is also the burden. I believe people are pleased that you have a bearing like hers, a seriousness like a thinker's seriousness. That you are not rash with your legacy. But we can never, never be sure we are living up to our ancestors, can we."
"I am sure you have it much the same," Srenni admits, with a bit of a chuckle. Why else would Aeryk be out pirating it up? Nydiam! "I -- wonder if I ever will live up to her. I strive to be, without a doubt. But I am... not quite there."
"In my way, yes. Is that not our trouble? We have such forbears as star in stories and legends. But if we - try to measure our success by, I do not know, simple progression, we can drive ourselves mad." Aeryk clears his throat, low. "Suppose you are not a general so early as she was. Do not take a fort. Are not High Priestess. Does this mean your life is a waste beside hers? Never. But how does one measure?"
This draws silence out of Srenni for some time, her cool gaze returning to the horizon. They seem to talk philosophy at these hours! "Both of my parents were proxies in the clan. Important in the military. Strong. Priests." A pause. "It is -- not that it makes my life worthless. But there are expectations to live up to, from others and myself. Is it too much? I'm not sure. But I will surely try."
"My grandfather gave up his life so that Elik might have the necessary edge over Drik in a battle. My father." Aeryk's hand tightens, slight, on the railing. "I will never be Clan Leader, and unlikely to be the father of Clan Leaders. This is unimportant. My forebears, none of them, were military men. This is a path I walk alone. But how my fathers lived - that can not be planned. But nor can being Proxy. Or being a hero. Period. Would that it oculd be."
Srenni tugs her helmet back off, tossing it behind her to be picked up later. She combs her fingers through her short hair and goes back to looking out to sea. She does this a lot. "Well -- yes. I could have chosen another path, but -- really, I cannot think of doing anything else. Lady Srenna has seen that I will fight and I will lead; I do not intend to let her down." *Firan*
"You will not," Aeryk states with that certainty he is as like to apply to himself. "But choosing a path is - complex. I do not walk the path of my father because I am not him. My siblings will walk a more similar path to Nydiam, due to their natures. It seems almost suitable that Zayes's one child would be like her."
"I am sure you will do him proud," Srenni offers, slanting her gaze over at Aeryk once again. She's more sure of him doing so than herself, really. "If we cannot even back down from this 'silly' adventure's challenges, certainly neither of us will from something so much more."
"Naturally not." Aeryk spins the shot and loses track of it, perhaps unintentionally. It spins down into the water.
