"You get the bonus of booze," he huffed, his limp becoming more pronounced as they walked up a set of woodens stairs that linked the port to the town. "I do not know why Mercedes said I need to walk more. This feels like it's doing more harm than good."
"Mercedes knows what she's doing, trust me." She held up her arm to show a slight scar going up the side of it. "I got into a fight with a crab. It nearly chopped my arm off."
"A crab?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as they reached the first tavern. "What kind of crab grows to that size?"
"An incredibly large one that apparently had a taste for human flesh." She curled her nose in a nasty look, as if standing face to face with the crab right now. "Coconut crab, I think Cap said it was. I don't remember. All I remember was being pissed."
"That sounds like a very entertaining story," Anto admitted as he studied the sign of the tavern. "'The Lonely Mermaid.' Such an odd name."
"Probably someplace we'll find sailors looking for something to do, totally unlike someone I'm standing next to," she said, looking up at the sign with a tilted head.
"Hey," he said defensively as he opened tj=he door. "Don't compare me to these people. I don't drink."
"I never implied you did," she defended, coming up behind him and looking around, "I simply said that you can relate with the fact that these people are seeking something."
Anto looked around the tavern, frowning as he studied the people inside.
"There is a man," he mumbled to his first mate, "In the far right corner holding a piece of parchment. What do you think?"
She leaned in towards him to hear him better, and to also see what he was seeing. They were closer than usual, but she didn't let that bother her as she spotted the man. "I think we should make a new friend," she murmured, flicking her eyes over at Anto.
"He does not look like the type of person to appreciate my particular dialect of English," he said, smiling slightly. "Would you mind taking the lead?"
"Of course, darlin'," she said with a flash of a smile, then grabbed his arm to pull him behind her as she wove her way through the tavern, making sure to make her path as mindless and indirect as possible while making her way over to the particular man.
The man looked up from the piece of parchment, looking around the bar with wide eyes. His hand snaked to the cup of ale that sat in front of him, and he took a long swig from it, completely oblivious of the two making their way over to his table.
"Oh he's going to be a fun one," she muttered, then plastered on a simultaneously pleasant and pirate-y smile as she sat down in front of the man. " 'ello mate. Tho't you could use t'he company. Well, that and 's quite full here."
Anto sat down next to her, folding his hands on the table. The man eyed the two with unguarded suspicion, pulling his drink closer to himself.
"Aye, I s'pose it's a bit crowded tonight," he said in a low, gravelly voice.
"Mmm. Say, you look like someone I could use." She cut to the chase, never one to beat around the bush for long. She reached out slightly and tapped the table as she spoke, enunciating her words. "I'm an Orchid, one of the crewmembers of the Merry Watch? We're looking for, say, extra motivated members?"
"Oh? An' what do you mean by 'extra motivated?'" he asked, taking another long drink of his ale. "That could mean a lot of things."
"It could," she agreed, propping her head up with a hand, "But what I'm looking for is a skilled crew of my own, one that isn't in it for the booze and freedom. We need soldiers."
His eyes wandered over to Anto, studying the small man with a bit of confusion. "And this is one of your soldiers?"
"He's tougher than he looks," she said, then sat up straighter—business mode. "I need to know if you have what it takes and if you're willing to take up my proposition. You look the part, but looks aren't everything."
The man gave Anto another once over, then finished his drink. "I tell ya what. If if your friend here can beat me in a little sparring match, I'll join ye crew."
Anto looked over at Fane, giving her a small nod.
Fane cast a slightly concerned look his way, telling him silently that he was injured and shouldn't be getting into serious sparring. But, she knew, he's stubborn and wouldn't listen, so she looked to the man and nodded as if she wasn't worried. "Alright. Let's take it outside first, however, so we don't draw too much of a crowd."
Anto stood up, only making the man smile. It was obvious that he was grossly underestimating his opponent. They weaved their way through the tavern, the prince hiding his limp the best he could as they exited the bar and out into the cobblestone street.
"First one to cry uncle?" the man asked, sliding into an experienced fighting stance.
Anto nodded, doing the same.
The man came at Anto with blinding speed, swinging a punch that would've ended the fight right then and there if it had connected. But it didn't. The prince had slipped under the path of the blow, leaving his opponent's back exposed. Anto lunged and climbed onto the man's back, slipping his arm under his chin and clenching as hard as he could. It was almost identical to the move that he had done to the killer of the original second mate and it produced a similar result.
"Uncle!" the man cried out in a tense voice his knees buckling underneath him.
Anto let go as soon as the words were spoken, landing on his feet as the man rubbed his throat gingerly.
"Yer one fast motherfucker!" the man said, offering his other hand out to Anto. "Me name's Mathias White."
"Anto," the prince responded, shaking the hand in return.
Fane was standing off to the side partially leaning on a lamppost, and she flicked her brows up when she watched the fight. Anto was fast, faster than she had expected. She hadn't actually watched him fight, at least watched him properly and not out of the corner of her eye, so witnessing that made her all the more hopeful in his ability to help train.
She was considering having him join the special crew—which she had yet to name—thinking his skills would be useful as a co-leader or something. Being a runaway prince, he surely had some sort of leadership skills hidden away in that thick skull of his. If not, then his fighting capabilities would surely earn him the respect needed.
"I'll join ye crew, lady," White said, turning to Fane and offering his hand to her, too. "What should I call ye?"