[SE] dead men tell no tales, but the living do

Thalassa

Rain wasn't usually a problem for her or her crew, but this season's screaming rain had proven more than the pirates could handle. They put up a good front, throwing lines and securing rigs as they sailed, but she could see the tension, the occasional grimace, and the unending misery. It started to affect their work - knots slipping, missed inventory, and overall inattention on her decks - and Thal couldn't have that.

After weeks at sea, she finally docked them in Jack Tar under the guise of detailed maintenance. She wasn't soft enough to dismiss them or let them cower in the nearby bars for the next few weeks, but at least she wouldn't have to suffer through their mistakes. They could work the days fixing up The Marauder then recover their sanity elsewhere. As long as the work got done, Thal didn't care.

She herself stayed on the ship, finding the daily trek to Levinsward and back to be too much. Instead, she worked alongside the crew during the day then sat and drank on the dock in the evenings before retiring to her cabin. It became a comfortable pattern, begging for interruption; so when she spotted a familiar face beyond the evening firepit, Thal gave a low chuckle and lifted her whiskey glass to her lips. The men around her hadn't noticed the woman yet, humoring themselves about some siren tale, but her eyes followed carefully, waiting for her to notice the predator she'd overlooked. Awash in firelight beneath the murky skies and surrounded by drunkards, but a dangerous predator, nonetheless.

As long as I'm here,
no one can hurt you.

Aithne

I see how this is gonna go

The past few seasons have had some strange weather patterns, and Leafchange is no different, bringing with it screaming, wailing, moaning rain that sets Aithne’s teeth on edge. There’s something about it that just grates on her nerves. Everything in her begs to stay indoors when it rains, but she refuses to give in to that inner voice, refuses to cower like she’s afraid. It’s not fear. It’s not. It’s just… very strong dislike.

So she forces herself beyond the confines of the little house she keeps in the Inner Quarter and takes to wandering. On this particular evening, she ends up in Jack Tar Landing. It’s not a place that she frequents, but after her agreement with the captain that day in the caves, she has taken to checking in every now and then, asking after a Captain Thalassa. Up until today, she hasn’t had much luck.

But tonight, someone seems to have heard that the good captain is in port - something about detailed maintenance on her ship. Curious and seeking entertainment training, Aithne starts along the docks, searching for a familiar figure among the many unfamiliar ones who linger here. She’s just about to give up the search when she spots The Marauder and notices someone watching her. A feral grin lights her face.

She’s not quite insane enough to climb aboard without an invitation, so she merely offers a halfhearted salute, leaning on a railing on the dock as she waits for instruction.

Touch me and you'll never be alone

Thalassa

It's a good thing Aithne doesn't try to board the ship, especially since Thal isn't on it. The burly man guarding the brow wouldn't take kindly to a stranger. He might even take it as entertainment for the night, roughing her up a little before tossing her in the harbor. Thal might have enjoyed watching that, but then she wouldn't get to have her own fun. 

The men around the firepit are still oblivious to the other Ancient prowling the docks, whispering the age-old story of the little mermaid. It isn't the tale most people are familiar with, but Thal has heard it a million times and she blocks them out from her perch atop a crate. Her blonde hair catches in the fiery glow, her eyes illuminated with their own source: mischief. 

"Did you go mute since I saw you last?" she calls out, propping an elbow on her knee to grin at the woman, fangs glinting dangerously.

As long as I'm here,
no one can hurt you.

Aithne

I see how this is gonna go

It's a good thing Aithne doesn't try to board the ship because I'm dumb and can't read and she is most definitely glad of the darkness to hide the blush when she realizes her mistake. Pushing off the rail she's leaning on, the girl stuffs her hands into her pockets and strolls down the dock towards Thalassa and the men who are, presumably, her crew.

The captain's taunt lands, and Aithne snorts. "Hardly," she says. "Why? Did you miss the sound of my voice?" She winks, all mischief and drama. The story of the little mermaid filters through, and Aithne cocks her head to one side, glancing at the men. "What in Caido are they talking about?" she asks, curiosity sparking in her dark eyes. She hasn't heard the tale before; it's hardly the kind of thing that one would have heard in polite society, where Aithne grew up. Maybe that's why she decides she likes it before she even hears the ending.

Touch me and you'll never be alone

Thalassa

Chuckling at the attempted wit, Thal flicks her tail and looks away like she's watching a dream that slipped through her fingers. "I'd had a slim hope I'd never hear it again." Instead, she's stuck with the questions that always seem to flow from the young woman. 

Her gaze skims the group of sailors chuckling and whispering amongst themselves. There are a few scoffs of disbelief, but more than a few haunted eyes as the tale unfolds. But Thal looks to Aithne, tilting her head as she regards the woman. "Hm? You haven't heard the tale of the little mermaid? It's pretty popular." Usually with those who live on or by the sea, but there are plenty of land lovers who share the story in bars and hovels. 

Taking a long sip of her bourbon, Thal considers the situation. If Aithne is here, it means she was serious about training, but maybe if she can scare the woman off with a gruesome ghost story... she'll give up on the preposterous idea. 

The odds may not be in her favor, but she likes them more than the thought of having a shadow follow her for the rest of her life. So Thal grins, gesturing to the open crate of various alcohols as she says, "Grab a drink. You have a lot to learn."

As long as I'm here,
no one can hurt you.

Aithne

I see how this is gonna go

It was a gamble, Aithne will admit, to goad the captain when she's historically been so snappy. But it seems to go over well and, satisfied by Thalassa's chuckle, Aithne leans against a nearby crate. "You missed me," she says, matter-of-fact. "You just don't know it yet."

Her attention turns to the story for a moment, which she quickly gathers to be a ghost story or some such nonsense. Aithne scoffs. Like her parents would ever have told her this kind of story. No, instead, she'd gotten all the stupid princess fairy tales. "Oh, that part sounded a little familiar," she comments, distracted. "Buuut, nope. Must not have been that popular back in Stormbreak." At least, not amongst her family's crowd.

At Thalassa's invitation, Aithne raises a brow. Is it her imagination, or does the captain seem to be in a better mood than she's seen before? Maybe she's just getting her hopes up, although the offer of a drink does give the girl hope. She happily selects something (she doesn't care what; it turns out to be rum) and perches on the crate. "By all means," she says, gesturing for Thalassa to begin her lesson.

Touch me and you'll never be alone

Thalassa

She scoffs at the misplaced confidence, wondering when the woman would get the hint that she isn't wanted. Maybe she just needs to knock some more sense into her. That can certainly be arranged on another day, but for now, Thal grunts at the open admission and silently takes note of the information. She'd assumed Aithne wasn't from the Grounds, but she's not sure she would have guess the fallen city. It wasn't exactly the most pro-Ancient. 

Once Aithne has grabbed her drink and settled in, she takes a burdensome breath to prepare the story. "They say the first mermaid wasn't as kind or helpless as people think they were," she begins matter-of-factly. She flicks a hand to dismiss the men talking below, stating facts they can't have known. "No one remembers her name or why she was on the ship. Some say she was a prisoner - a wealthy woman captured in a raid or a criminal slave enroute to be sold. Others claim she was a sailor - a scullery maid in some stories, the captain in others." It didn't matter, but everyone had a motive in telling the story, and making the woman look weak or strong, good or evil could strengthen their case. Thal isn't one of those. 

She shrugs her shoulders. "Whatever her reason for being there, all agree that she was the most beautiful of women - with the most enchanting voice. Hair and eye color change depending on the preferences of who's telling the story, but these truths always remain:" she raises her fingers to punctuate her points "strikingly beautiful and an unparalleled voice."

Her hand lowers to her knee again, the other swirling her glass as she tilts her head. "It drove the men mad, each fighting to claim the maiden's heart or voice in one way or another. It led to brawls and murders and desperate heists to impress her," she pauses to smirk, "but the woman wouldn't be swayed. She sang for herself, not them." Thal takes a sip of her bourbon, preparing for the next part of the story, the part she always thought to be the warning for women everywhere. "When they finally realized that they couldn't have her for themselves, the men banded together. If they couldn't have her, no one could." Her tone hardens, deepening with the tragedy of it all. "They jumped her in the night, slitting her throat first so they could pull her vocal cords from her neck. Then they hacked apart each and every limb and tossed it into a crab trap full of old fish to be tossed into the sea." Thal flicks her tail then continues on, "The next night, the shore came into view. The men were proud of the work they'd done, eager to reach the shore and brag of their time at sea."

Getting to her favorite part, she flashes Aithne a sharpened, bloody grin. "But the maiden wasn't done with them."

Thal leans slightly forward, voice dropping like a stalking predator. "Left to rot, her vengeful spirit had fused with those of the fish, turning her into a grotesque, horrifying beast of skin and scales. Her skin was the color of a corpse, hanging off her bony body, made loose by the seawater that bloated her features. Her hair hung in patches, tangled with seaweed and fish bones that lay at the bottom of the ocean. Her teeth and nails had sharpened to deadly points, cracked and yellowed as if she'd clawed from the cage herself. And her feet had fused into a ghastly tail that flaked apart as she shot out of the water to claim each man who'd made her into that monster." Her smile is deadly, vicious in its enjoyment of the men's suffering. "The men on shore heard screams and watched helplessly as the mutilated bodies were thrown into the water. And all the while, they heard the haunting sound of her melodic voice, laughing as she chopped away..." Fading her voice, the tangs of her horns catch the flicker of fire while shadows dance across her face. "They say you can still hear her sometimes - when you're approaching shore. She never quite lost the taste for blood." Thal runs her tongue across her fangs, sitting back onto the crate for a well-deserved sip of bourbon.

As long as I'm here,
no one can hurt you.

Aithne

I see how this is gonna go

Misplaced confidence sums up Aithne to a 't,' and where she gets it from is anyone's guess. In this particular case, the girl simply assumes that her winning personality will win Thalassa over eventually - if it hasn't already. She has a bit of experience with surly people, so for all she knows, maybe she's right, and the good captain already likes her.

Sitting on her crate and sipping on her drink (and failing not to wince at the burn of the liquor), Aithne listens to the story, hanging onto every word. For someone who has never heard such a gruesome tale, she certainly does not flinch away from the gory details, instead seeming to soak it up and revel in it. When Thalassa finally finishes, Aithne is on the edge of her seat, eyes alight with intrigue. Her drink sits nearby, forgotten entirely. She doesn't even bother to try to be nonchalant about it when she says, "Ooooo, I should have been a pirate. That was so much better than anything I ever heard in Stormbreak."

Touch me and you'll never be alone

Thalassa

If Aithne can't even drink rum without flinching, Thal doubts she'll last long in the brutal environment of sea life, but she continues with her tale, not holding back any of the gory details or cruelties of the story. At least the woman doesn't shrink from the nastier bits. In fact, she leans in, captivated enough that Thal is almost flattered. 

When he's done and Aithne shares her thoughts, she's met with a knowing scoff. "Not surprising. Stormbreak wasn't good for much." Especially with their racist history, she imagines they didn't promote anything relating to piracy or murder. As for Aithne's regrets, Thal shrugs her shoulders, taking a long sip of her bourbon, punctuated with a flick of her tail. "You're still young. Plenty of time to change careers." Not that she's offering, but she might be inclined to let her tag along with a few raids.

As long as I'm here,
no one can hurt you.

Aithne

I see how this is gonna go

Aithne grew up sheltered; alcohol had not been something that was regularly offered, much to the girl's chagrin. It wasn't until Aithne escaped her parents' watchful eyes that she began drinking, and now, even with all the freedom in the world, she prefers cocktails where she can't taste the alcohol over straight liquor from the bottle. Regardless, though, she's not going to turn down a free drink - or the entertainment that comes with it.

Hanging onto every word, she finally leans back on her crate as the story ends. Snorting a laugh at Thalassa's opinion of Stormbreak, she nodded emphatically. "Gods, you can say that again." Aithne doesn't lament the loss of the floating city. As far as she's concerned, the world is better off without the racist cesspool. As for her career choices, Aithne shrugs. "I meannnn, you're not wrong," she says thoughtfully. "But, I dunno. I'm happy where I'm at. I'm working with Charlie to become a priestess of Dygra!"

Touch me and you'll never be alone

Thalassa

Her own experience with alcohol is made clear as she swallows a large mouthful of her bourbon, tsking through her teeth to accent the disgust. "Good riddance the eyesore is gone," she sneers. She doesn't even bother to toast the fallen city, annoyed it's turned into such an obstacle for her usual travels. Even in death, Stormbreak is useless. 

When she'd brought up the possibility of life at sea, she'd mostly expected Aithne to jump at the crack in the door, pushing it wide with some excited ramble about the romance of pirating. Instead, Thal is annoying caught off guard when she claims to be apprenticing to Charlie. "Really?" she scoffs. She likes the priestess, but Aithne doesn't scream 'competent' and 'devoted' to her in the way a chaos goddess would require. She's too young, too inexperienced. She wouldn't trust her to lead an offering if the blood were already in the bowl. 

Grinning sharply at the thought, she raises a teasing eyebrow, "What does she have you doing? Mopping? Candle making?" Or perhaps Aithne has proven herself in a way Thal doesn't know, a playful glint forming in her eyes as she adds, "Orgies?"

As long as I'm here,
no one can hurt you.

Aithne

I see how this is gonna go

Aithne hadn't really expected the pirate captain to care much one way or another about her apprenticeship with Charlie, but Thalassa's sharp grin and further questioning suggest otherwise. In truth, Aithne hasn't done much apprenticing yet. She hasn't even been to see Dygra since she was made into an Ancient, which seems like a bit of an oversight for someone claiming to be an acolyte in her name. Mostly she just shadows Charlie through offerings and such, but that sounds boring to say out loud. Still, the girl snorts at the mention of orgies, putting on a playful pout. "No orgies yet," she says. "Next time, though."

Maybe Thalassa is interested because she wanted Aithne for her crew. Perking up at the thought, the girl grins. "What would you have me do on your ship?" she asks, tilting her head to one side. "Maybe, if it's more fun than orgies and offerings, I could be convinced to make a change." Probably not, but hey. Maybe she can tag along here or there just for fun.

Touch me and you'll never be alone

Thalassa

Shrugging her shoulders with pretend disappointment for the lack of orgies, Thal is suddenly barking a laugh at Aithne's questions. Her head shakes, immediately dismissing any further idiocy along that line of thought. "Oh no no. That's not how this works." She flicks her hand with a sharp motion, clearly done with whatever nonsense she might have momentarily considered. "I don't want some half-baked priestess messing with my ship."

Thal leans back onto her hand, tail moving in a slow arc behind her as she raises her glass. "You stick to the orgies and offerings. I only employ people who have what it takes." At one point, Aithne might have been a good candidate with her annoying determination and resiliency, but one of the main requirements is an insatiable thirst for violence on the open ocean. If the woman is considering priesthood, the pirate life is not for her, and Thal would be an idiot to let her ship be a second choice in any race. 

Feeling like the conversation is over, she downs the rest of her bourbon and stands to leave. "Well, good luck with - " she gestures vaguely "that."

As long as I'm here,
no one can hurt you.

Aithne

I see how this is gonna go

Thalassa's laugh has Aithne grinning; she's not sure that she's ever managed to elicit actual laughter from the captain - unless maybe it was aimed at her. This might still be at her expense, but it feels a bit more like actual humor to the girl. She is not offended in the slightest when Thalassa turns her down, instead shrugging in a way that suggests she thinks that the decision is the captain's loss. "Okay," she chirps simply. She can use her many talents elsewhere, and that's fine.

Thalassa downs the rest of her drink and stands, so Aithne bounces to her feet as well. "Thanks!" she says cheerfully. "Have fun pirating. And watch out for mermaids." With a wink, she saunters back the way she came, pleased to have - in her mind at least - begun to wear Thalassa down. The captain likes her. She can tell.

fin

Touch me and you'll never be alone