forum the Glittering Sea (closed group rp, 6/6)

Started January 11, 2023 by Deleted user

tune

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Tao wandered around the the back of the hold behind a wall of crates. He froze as some of the crew brought more crates and stacked them to his ever thickening wall. Talking as they worked, they moved sacks and crates until there was almost no light coming from the other side, and even the voices were muffled. Tao let out a breath of relief and moved back to where he had been molding a bag of grain or something into a bed shaped mass where he promptly flopped down and tried to make sence of the conversation happening on the other side of the wall.

Not long after two of the men abruptly stopped talking and ran up to the main deck, a new person came down and told the others that he, according to the voice, would take over for them and that they were needed up on deck. Tao raised an eyebrow. How would one man take over for the group that had been working on it? He shifted on his sack and moved over to the thinnest part of the wall to look in between the boxes at the newcomer.

Tao watched as the other men left and the new commer shifted a few things to make it look sort-of organised before jumping up onto the pile of crates he was hiding under. Careful not to make any noise in the now almost silent hold, Tao moved back to his sack and sat down on top. He waited for a second as he listened to the man kicking his legs before sneezing and breaking the silence. Tao froze and quickly moved to underneath the sack rather than on top of it. Praying that its bulk would hide him.

Myriil was quite content with himself, he was sitting in a nice protected spot on the ship, while everyone else did Y'ffre knows what above, and he had several convenient and mostly true excuses for why he was there. It was a comfy position to be in, and he wasn't likely to get shot or maimed or captured. The only thing was that it was slightly dull, sitting alone while hearing the muffled sounds from above. The hold was near silent as a matter of fact, and Myriil was just considering humming or finding some kind of instrument in the clutter when a sound broke the silence for him. Or rather, someone did.

Myriil's ears perked up, the sound had come from below him, maybe a little bit behind. It sounded like a sneeze, it was too wet sounding to be the tearing of a sack. Soon after the noise was a rustling of grain, maybe a scurrying sound. That more than anything confirmed his suspicions. With a small hop, the wood elf was off the crates, landing silently on the ground, crouching his knees just slightly to quiet the impact. With slow, deliberate movements, reminiscent of a bird hunt back home, Myriil started searching through the crates and sacks. Trying to be as quiet as possible, before a slight idea popped into his head, his lips curled into a smile.

"…Hello? I know someones here. It's alright, you can come out, I won't hurt you." Myriil spoke in a calm, soothing and friendly voice. It was how one spoke to a frightened doe in a field, whole showing open palms, leading it closer into the open. Of course the next move would be to have a friend shoot the doe through the eye, but that was neither here nor there. The wood elf continued his slow search, even going so far as to start gently tugging at the lids of crates to see if they had been pried open for someone to hide inside.

"I promise I'm a friend! I don't belong here either." His smile was still there, and he was on high alert for any more sound, even that of rustling cloth or sudden movement. Walking on light feet to minimize noise and whispering just above the audible level. He glanced around corners before he turned them, and he was methodical in checking the ground. The sound had come from below after all, it was worth a shot, it was just annoying how many things were stacked on top of each other. It made the whole process a pain.

Tao held his breath and sayed as still as he could, flinching when the man jumped off his stack and landed with a soft thud. He breathed slowly, as quietly as he could. Jumping a little each time the Man got closer. He opened a crate and Tao accidentally moved his head, one of his little horns getting caught on and tearing the sack a little bit. Some of the grains inside falling out and getting caught in his hair.

He froze as the man started talking. "…Hello? I know someones here. It's alright, you can come out, I won't hurt you."
Tao reached up slowly so as not to disturb anything and felt around for the rip. His fingers finding and filling it so that nothing else would fall out.
"I promise I'm a friend! I don't belong here either." Tao rolled his eyes. He had seen how the man has entered in and told those other men to get out. He didn't belong here as much as the crates were made of stone.

"I-" Tao whispered, his voice not even more than a whisper. "I- I don't believe you." He shifted again and more grain fell onto his face. Shaking his head to get them out, he wondered in his mind whether or not that was a good idea.

Another shot, which also missed. Instinctually, the captain drew her gun from her belt and fired twice, three times, once at what she assumed must be one of those officers and twice at the boats- mostly wooden, with some metal parts. Fools. The first bullet hit but only struck a man's forearm. Before continuing, though, she lowered to a knee and shot through the gaps between the bars. She was well aware that her spot was vulnerable, and wished she'd had a different gun prepared. Her smile faded now, lost in focus, and traded for a stoic stare as she continued to shoot into the wood, making holes where she hit and dents where bullets met metal. , The third boat veered to its left. Thankfully the ship was moving faster now and members of the ship were starting to realize the disturbance.
Whitlock ignored the boat that'd veered. it was damaged, not much, but enough for then. But despite the seven brand-new holes in it, it had only slowed slightly. Thalia stood up and started to walk backward, away from the edge. Even with the current forces of her crew, that might not be enough to push back.

The ship was now moving at a swift, steady pace, but these boats were as well. They seemed to be powered by nothing. Was it possible that they were reinforced by magic? How long would the effects of that last? She almost felt wronged, cheated. It took her a moment to remember she'd just sent gunners to rob the town. That didn't matter, right then, though.

"CANNONS!" The woman roared, not daring to elaborate. "Prepare to fire, NOW!"

These men were shooting with a similar strategy to Thalia, at the ship and the crewmembers. She hadn't seen them hit anyone yet, but nothing was stopping them from doing so. She walked back up, not quite at the banister as a first attempt at caution. Her pistol was raised again and she continued to fire, now at a boat only touched by the bullets of those beside her. Three holes, one body. That was about to be a few more.

The streak of quiet escapes was definitely broken now. That streak was five times. The captain was aware she could have been more prepared and could have slipped under the radar if she really wanted to. But she didn't care very much. Putting the lives of those on the ship, and even her own life, on the line was something she didn't often consider. It wasn't that she thought of herself as immortal by any means, just that avoiding death was her reason to live, no matter how narrow the dodge may be.

If there was one thing that Reia was good at— other than navigation, of course— it was shooting. She wasn’t very good at hand-to-hand combat, but when it came to gunning someone down, well…. let’s just say she had a lot of experience.

Reia crouched down near the edge of the boat, hidden from bullets raining down on them. Her hands shook with adrenaline as she peered over the edge of the ship. There, clear as day, were the three men, rowing towards them on their tiny boat. Reia could tell simply by looking at their uniforms what kind of men they were, and she knew that more of these men would likely be after them in a matter of minutes. She figured it would be better to flee and get as far away as possible instead of fighting a crew much bigger than their own, but that was the Captain’s call to make. Either way, if they were going to make it out alive, they needed all hands on deck and no one slacking off.

After firing a round of shots at their pursuers, Reia began to go throughout the ship, finding the cowards hiding from the fight and threatening them with punishment if they did not help in the effort to protect the ship. Reia found at least a dozen men hiding away, which was disappointing yet not surprising. However, there was one place she had yet to check. The storage room in the lower deck.

Reia stayed with the others for a long while, helping the efforts to fight off the attackers, until she eventually left and went below deck. She swung open the door of the storage room, and low and behold, there was Myriil, hiding away among their supplies.

Reia crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. “Really? We’re slaving away on the upper decks, and you’re down here, hiding like a coward,” Reia snapped. “You better get up there before I hurl you off the ship myself.”

Blaze, true to character, did not stop trying to fight their pursuers for even a moment he had heard the gunshot go off. He was focused on one thing and one thing only, and that was everyone on the ship getting away safely. He would do whatever it took to make that happen, the familiar adrenaline kicking in as he want to his position at one of the cannons. His gaze narrowed in on one of the approaching ships, firing his cannon with the practiced air of someone who had done this many times before. Unfortunately, the boats were not big targets, which would things quite a bit harder for them to hit. But Blaze would not be deterred.

As Blaze released his cannon, he managed to hit one of the boats, causing a vicious grin to break out across his face. Yes! That would cause a serious dent in their ability to pursue the ship. He felt a rush of satisfaction, momentarily basking in it before getting his cannon ready for another round. He was great at cannon duty, and it was one of his favorite aboard the ship if he were honest. Sure, hand-to-hand combat or making weapons was fine, but nothing could beat using the cannons except making his explosives. Everyone who knew him knew that Blaze was notoriously trigger happy and that he was a little too happy to get to use the cannons, but wasn’t everyone aboard a pirate ship bound to be at least a little strange?

As he readied the cannon in case a second round was required, he wondered what the others were up to. Naturally, most people on board would be doing something to try and stop their pursuers, but he figured that some pathetic people would be trying to hide. Blaze had met enough people in his life to know not everyone’s first response to a fight was to fight back. He was not a fan of those who shirked their duty. However, he would still protect them if it came down to it. Whether someone carried their weight had no determination of whether Blaze would do everything it took to defend them. Blaze was determined to keep everyone on the ship safe, whether he personally liked them or not. In battle, such petty squabbles didn’t matter. They were all a team. That was what Blaze loved about it.

Myriil was continuing his slow and methodical search, but the gunfire from above and the natural creaking and swaying of the ship was making it hard to listen for small sounds, even for him. He wasn't annoyed by his lack of progress, on the contrary, he was slightly excited at the thought of a hidden person in the hold, friend or enemy. He leaned over, checking underneath a crate that had been propped up on support beams. The storage room was dark and even Myriil's adept eyes were struggling to adjust to the gloom, the door being closed was probably the main reason. He was just about to give up his little quest, having looked over every crate, every spot, and resign himself to thinking he imaged the noise, when a tiny voice squeaked out from the dark.

"I-" The voice breathed. "I- I don't believe you." Myriil froze, doing his best to pinpoint the location of the feather soft sound. He was in the right area, and he just needed to look down and right. He widened his eyes to try and see better, he thought he could see a lump in-
The door opened, bathing the storage hold with light, the wood elf hissed, squeezing his eyes shut at the sudden barrage to his sight. He spun around, still half crouched and reaching for the misshaped sack.

Standing in the door way was a very, very pissed looking woman. On instinct he raised his hands in the air, still squinting at the bright light. The woman spoke, saying some less than kind words. Blinking a few times, he recognized the navigator, a woman named Reia, and he immediately pulled a face. He put on his best mostly offended look and scoffed.

"Slaving away? Hardly. And I'm not hiding, I'm organizing and protecting the cargo." Myriil somehow managed to sound both patronizing and sincere, he glanced at the sack of grain, his hands still held up in the air just in case the irate woman decided to make good on any of her threats. Making a split second decision, he decided not to say anything, he could come back later and find his mystery companion, if some of the other sailors didn't find the little voice first. Maybe he'd bring them some food, one could hardly pry open most of the things in the hold and go unnoticed after all, and liquids were stored elsewhere. His eyes drifted back to Reia.

"Besides~ I've always been more of a.. Hmm, whats the word? A mascot? We wouldn't want anything to hurt my pretty face after all." Myriil smiled a saccharine and slightly mocking smile , but even as he spoke he was clearly readying his weapons, looking annoyed all the while. He knew his excuses wouldn't fly, he'd been hoping one of the less intelligent members of the ship would have come searching for stragglers, to avoid being above deck themselves. But Reia didn't do things unless they were important, which might mean they actually needed help upstairs. Myriil shook his head, slightly disappointed, the famed Corusci Maris struggling against a few pursuers?

"…would you believe me if I said I left my gun in the common room?" Myriil gave a cheeky smile, moving away from the specific spot he was in, making sure not to glance backwards at the hidden person there. He was already moving towards the door, looking in absolutely no hurry, just to infuriate the navigator a little more. Turning backwards suddenly and making a great show of his sarcasm, the wood elf spoke loudly.
"And goodbye storage room! Stay safe without me here!" He shot a dirty look at Reia as he said it, as if trying to guilt trip her into feeling sorry for a room.

Reia couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Reia and Myriil had never been that close on the ship; they had never had a reason to talk. However, she had heard some things about him. Enough to make her suspicious.

“Mm, I see. You’re protecting the cargo when there’s an entire ship under attack,” she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Makes perfect sense.”

Reia stepped in the room, stealing a quick look around. She had been in the storage room multiple times that day to count supplies, but something about it just felt… off. She couldn’t place her finger on what. But, after exploring it for a few moments, she decided it must’ve been all in her head.

“A mascot?” Reia couldn’t help but snort at his comment. “I’m sure the other crew mates would disagree. And as for your pretty little face, don’t worry about it. I assure you it won’t stay pretty for long. Just look at mine.”

She motioned to her her face, which was covered in dirt, cuts, and blood. The truth is that Reia managed to keep up her appearance better than most people on this ship, wearing mainly dresses and keeping herself bathed, but she couldn’t help but get a little dirty during their fights.

“And don’t worry, dearest,” Reia said, beginning to head up towards the upper deck. “I, sure the storage room will be perfectly safe without you protecting it.”

There was a large splash as the cannonball hit. Whitlock grinned at the sight of the ship that had broken off from the group going down. Only two more now. She ran back up to the edge, her grip now one-handed and ignoring her previous thoughts about caution. Shooting at the boats proved useless, but the captain wanted no remnant of these officers to remain. She wanted their boats to sink and for them to drown, even if that was tedious.

It didn't take long to learn what she wanted would not work. The captain scoffed at her failed attempts and started to aim at heads, only to find herself out of ammo. It was all she could do not to hurl the pistol at the men below right then, but the fire in her general direction was getting harder to maneuver and she knew she'd miss. And lose her gun. She ducked behind the banister again, and luckily it wasn't all gapped, protected by a solid layer of wood, thinking about her next move. It did occur to her that it was idiotic to try and work her stance, but she thought it'd be smart to aim for the boats. Now she looked stupid hiding here- there was way too much thinking involved with this.

Thalia leaped forward, out of reach of most bullets, yelling to fire the cannons again. Ideally, that and the crewmembers firing would work, but if it didn't, she would have more ammo when she returned. Turning on her heel, she took off in the other direction, on her way to her own cabin. This could have been avoided, she thought for the fourth time. It was starting to dawn on her that she couldn't win every battle, not if she was like this. But she decided that wasn't her fault- this could not have been foreseen, could it? No, it couldn't have, then she would have seen it coming and prepare for it! Probably.

The captain reached her cabin and frantically searched for her supply. She switched the ammo as fast as possible, which she had learned to do from a young age. At least she had that prepared and going for her. Thalia Whitlock was, again, used to thinking that she'd win every battle. But if she won this one, it'd be a close match.

As with before, Blaze had no clue about the other goings-on inside the ship, preparing to fire the cannon again and waiting for the captain's orders. He had really started to warm up to her recently, since he found that she was more similar to him than the last captain had been. Of course, he was reckless and trigger happy, so it might not be the best thing to have a captain with those sorts of traits, but Blaze loved the thrill that she brought to the crew. He didn't know her very well, nor had he been excessively close with the previous captain, but Captain Ambers had trusted Blaze in his area of expertise. That was something which made him quite happy, especially when the captain had left him to his own devices to create something new and acted at least a little like he cared about Blaze's ideas. He just hoped Captain Whitlock would be the same. He had proved himself time and time again, such as just now with the cannons. These other fools just could not aim, could they? Oh well, guess that just gave him more cannon time. Blaze was the optimistic sort.

Once he heard the order barked by Captain Whitlock, Blaze's grin returned and he finished aiming the cannon before firing at one of the remaining boats. This time wasn't quite as precise as his first shot, but he didn't entirely miss the boat either. The cannonball instead grazed the ship, still doing some damage but not nearly the amount he had first achieved. He frowned, cursing as he readjusted the cannon in annoyance. He was already trying to work out the positioning of the ships and why he had missed–or as good as missed–this time. He was supposed to be an expert with these, come on! How would he keep up his reputation if he started missing shots? Sure, he had grazed the boat, but that was nothing compared to the last one. Blaze took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down somewhat. He had gotten cocky, overconfident as he thought about his achievements. That was always when he was at his worst. That, and when he got truly angry.

No time to berate himself. He started to ready the cannon for yet another round. Did he have any explosives on his person? He knew that it had been some time since he'd made the last batch, and was running low on anything that would do actual damage to their pursuers. He might have something tucked away if he went to check. That could at least slow down their pursuers, or throw them off their rhythm. However, Blaze did not have the best memory. He didn't want to abandon his post at the cannons if there wasn't anything of note that could help in this battle. It was funny, really, the whole of the pirates struggling so much against three small boats. But that was hardly the issue at hand. Blaze thought for a moment, trying to decide whether it was worth the risk of leaving the cannon when no one else had seemed to hit a boat yet. Well, if he was quick, he might still be able to do something with his cannon when he got back. Captain Ambers would have understood. Probably.

Whatever. He didn't have time. He got up quickly, rushing off to the crew's quarters to see if he could find any leftover explosives to use. Those concoctions could certainly work their wonders in this battle if Blaze had any left, and they were more than just smoke bombs. The captain surely wouldn't miss one gunner; Blaze's ego was getting big. He would be quick. He went at a fast pace, straight for the crew's quarters. Come on….

Myriil's eye twitched slightly at Reia's dismissal of his quick lie of 'protecting the storage room', sure it was false, but it was a decent lie! If the ship was boarded by enemies, he'd be there to shoot anyone who got close to any of the cargo. The last line of defense he supposed, but his irritation was quickly washed away by a sense of anxiety as the navigator started looking around the room. She probably thought he'd stolen something and was checking to see if everything was in place, but it seemed like she was looking for something specific..

He refused to show any hint of relief on his face when she gave up, already moving out of the door, taking her other snarky comments in stride. It all seemed fairly good natured for someone threatening to throw him off the ship earlier and what kind of conversationalist would he be if he couldn't take what he dished out? Showing more restraint than he had, Myriil didn't respond to her barbs, simply smiling amiably. He walked in no great hurry, with his hands behind his back, adjusting himself quickly whenever the ship was suddenly rocked by the monumental strength of the firing cannons. The wood elf wasn't bothered at all by the sudden, jerking movements, it was nothing compared to keeping your balance while standing on a desert horse, which was galloping at full speed. He half smiled at the memory, he'd fallen off eventually and fractured his arm, but had won the bet. The wood groaned and men yelled, some running up and down the stairs for more ammo or to take a breather when they got grazed by a stray gunshot. The cacophony of the chaos above was deafening, and Myriil had to resist the urge to cover his ears.

Reia was heading towards the upper deck, likely to continue helping in the fight, and he followed for a moment, before slipping off to the crew's quarters, despite his sarcasm Myriil had been serious about leaving his gun there. He wasn't particularly concerned about it getting stolen, he didn't care much for the thing, judging by the chips in the wood handles and rust spots on the metal. It had someone elses initials carved into it, having been one of the ones handed down as spares for the crew. The old owner was likely dead or disfigured.

Ducking into the room, Myriil had to squint to see in the dim light. The crew's quarters were dark, with no natural light and smelled exactly how you would imagine a room where dozens of unwashed men slept. As he blinked, Myriil's sensitive eyes could make out the shapes of the hammocks strung along the walls, some two or three high, making the most of the usable space in the room. Personal belongings made lumps in the canvas, though no one left anything valuable behind, you carried it on you if you didn't want it stolen. Strolling over to his hammock, Myriil grabbed his guns, fiddling with them for a moment and frowning, then shaking it really hard and seeming content. He had some ammo in a pouch on his belt, along with some other knickknacks.

Passing by the rows of bedding, it was odd seeing no one in the room, usually a few stragglers were hidden in here. An image of Reia yelling popped into his mind and he shuddered, she'd gotten to them first it seemed. Idly he pulled at the fabric, making a few hammocks rock back and forth, sometimes clattering what was inside to the ground. Nothing too interesting, sometimes a cool rock, a piece of flint, a photo of family, or just junk, bottles empty of booze, trash, discarded scraps of fabric. Myriil wrinkled his nose, both at the reek of the room, and at the gaucheness of it all. With just a minor touches, even this mess of a room could be practical and at least somewhat stylish. Really, it can't be that hard..

A little bit of light, move around the hammocks.. Maybe a table there and a rug there.. His musings were interrupted, by a guest to the room. A man with wild eyes and even wilder hair tore around the corner, and rushing inside. They moved with a frantic energy that took Myriil aback and he blinked a few times to make sure they were real. He didn't recognize him immediately, but the smell of soot and gunpowder which assaulted his senses a moment after the man appeared gave away his job at the very least. Giving the man a wide birth, he tried to scoot around them and out the door. They looked busy anyways, and probably didn't need his help, and if he did? Well then that was a desperate situation indeed. All Myriil wanted to do right now was get on deck and make a token performance and then disappear again, maybe chat with the little voice in the storage room some more. Then cheat some of the sailors out of their coins at cards later in the day.

At first, Blaze hadn't noticed the other man in the crew's quarters, making a beeline straight for his hammock to look for any remaining explosives he might have. It may not be the smartest thing to keep explosives in his hammock, but he was not the smartest man when it came to matters of common sense. He often stashed explosives away in a few different places, with his pockets and his hammock being the main ones. Of course, he would need to detonate them for anything to happen, lighting a match and setting it aflame or combining two chemicals together, but it was still probably a major fire hazard to have that sort of thing lying around. Hopefully no one looked into it too closely.

As he started digging through his meager assortment of things, he saw the man that was in there slowly working his way towards the door. Blaze's eyes narrowed. What was he doing here, anyway? There was a battle going on and he seemed to be rifling through other people's things. He paused in his search momentarily, curiosity piqued. Well, that and he would be livid if this person had touched his explosives. He wiped at some soot on his face, turning to face the man.

"You know I can see you, right? Were you going through people's stuff?" he accused, hands still working to find something in the shape of an explosive. Blaze felt a wash of relief at the familiar feel of one, glancing down to make sure that's what it was before palming it. As soon as he made sure this man wasn't stealing things–and certainly not Blaze's things–he would go back up to continue the fight. As Blaze looked back up at the man, he realized that he had certainly seen this man before, though he was not well acquainted with him. Blaze usually did his own thing, though he would have some fun with those he considered friends aboard the ship as well. This man was not someone Blaze knew well enough to consider a friend, and he had seldom seen the man do anything resembling helping in a fight. Hm. Already this was not looking great for his favorability in Blaze's eyes.

Myriil had just snuck around to the door, his hands alighting on the door frame. He pushed down the thought of having to go up. Of having to go up and fight. The feelings bubbled around in his stomach, memories like bile rising to his throat, threatening to spill out into his thoughts. He hadn't realized he'd frozen in the doorway when the voice spoke, he'd forgotten he was here at all, he was somewhere else. He snatched onto the voice, grounding himself, processing the words slowly, turning them over and around in his head, like he would with a curious bauble in his hands.

"You know I can see you, right? Were you going through people's stuff?" It took Myriil just a second to come up with a response this man already seemed to expect from him. Still in the doorway, posed like he was just about to slip out, the wood elf tipped his head back and groaned, like he was caught. Turning on his heel slowly, Myriil faced the gunner, doing his best to smile slyly. He even raised his hands a bit in the air, his eyes twinkling mischievously again in the dim light. Watching him slowly, Myriil tried to make out what the man was getting, some odd shaped lumps that hadn't caught his eye before. It looked like the rest of the junk in the hammocks.

"Going through stuff? I suppose." Myriil spoke morosely, his nose wrinkling up again. "I'd call it.. Relocating though." He paused, realizing how that sounded just a half second too late. He turned his own mistake into indignation, turn his error into the gunners problem. Offence filled his eyes, and Myriil crossed his arms in a huff.

"But I get what you're implying. I didn't take anything." Playing off a hunch, instead of looking angry, Myriil just looked resigned, like this had happened a million times and he was tired of it. His expression said of course he would think that, everyone did, even when it was untrue.
"Everything's still here.. Just- Some of it is on the floor?" It was the truth oddly enough. There was no thrill in stealing from absent men, no hunt or skill there. Taking something while they were watching you like a hawk, slipping a ring from a finger or lifting coins from a pocket. Now there was skill. Myriil found little joy in stealing, he still wasn't sure why he was here, perhaps it was the guilty thrill of doing something you shouldn't. Another boom from above made him suppress a shudder.

Blaze raised an eyebrow, the boom not rocking him in the least. This guy seemed to be telling the truth as far as he could tell, but if he wasn't stealing, what on earth was he doing down here? 'Relocating?' What the hell did that mean? Was he moving people's stuff? What was the point in that? It just seemed needlessly cruel to Blaze.

Blaze huffed out an annoyed sigh. He had little patience for this man right now, though his patience wasn't exceedingly great in general. He needed to get back up above decks and rejoin the fray. His leg bobbed up and down with the anticipation and nervous energy he always got during a fight. He had to make sure nothing had gotten worse. It was his job to defend the ship, after all, and it someone got hurt, Blaze would blame it on himself for being absent. Sure, it was a bit egoistic of him to think he could prevent anyone from gettin hurt, but at least he could be there. He could already feel the future guilt creeping up on him. Whatever. He would end this quickly and leave now that he had what he had been looking for.

"Why in the world you were messing with people's stuff then?" he huffed, ignoring the resignation this man had displayed. If he didn't want people to think he was stealing, perhaps he shouldn't go through their stuff for no reason? "Whatever. I don't have the time right now to argue with you. I'm going back into the fight; do what you want." At that, he strode out of the room, shouldering past the man at the door. Before he went back up though, he paused, turning to face the man again from outside the doorway.

"If you're going to hide from a fight, pick a less conspicuous place next time," he added with an eye roll. He was by no means going to try and force someone to do their duty, but he was clearly more than a little annoyed that this man was shirking his. However, he also figured that trying to force this man to fight would mean Blaze took longer to get back to the fray, and Blaze highly doubted that the man was hiding from battle because he was really good at it.

After that odd encounter, he hurried back to his post, hoping nothing much had happened in the time he was away. Hopefully, another boat had been taken down. And hopefully, no one had noticed his brief absence.

Myriil stuck his tongue out at the gunner when he left, slightly annoyed at the shoulder bump, though he'd done the same not a few minutes earlier to a different man. His annoyance was more at all of the crew for being so willing to throw there lives away for this. For a pirate crew, for the vain hopes of riches. Perhaps that was just the cowardice talking. Growling softly to himself, the wood elf made his way above deck, to help in the fighting. He helped with the rigging, with setting up little barricades for the men to duck behind, and occasionally fired off a shot to make a token of return fire. He didn't aim. He hated guns anyways, give him a good war bow and he'd be able to hit any of their pursuers, no problem.

Mostly he just observed the others fight, seeing the changes leadership had made to the mens stances and tactics. They seemed to mimic their leader like sheep, being more reckless, firing more shots, being more aggressive. Myriil mimicked the stances and threw in a few colorful words at the enemies, but held back on the behavior, he just wanted to go to bed. The loud noises were making his skull rattle.

Whitlock, having reloaded her pistol, smirked to herself. She swore to herself that (for an hour at most) she would be less showy. Aiming for heads instead of boats would be her first try at this- she'd try and sink the boats once they were immobilized. By then she trusted that another boat will be down, at best.

Not bothering to return her gun to her belt, Thalia sprinted out of the room, kicking the door closed. More than enough time had already been wasted.

Thalia arrived back at the quarterdeck, surveying for any change. The other two boats still weren't down. How in the hell were they going to lose these damn officers, the woman thought, more than a little frustrated. She looked at her own crew. A few were injured, withdrawing. Already too close to one dead. The medics are going to have a field day. Captain Whitlock yelled orders that she was hardly paying attention to herself. She sifted through ideas in her mind and landed on one.

"HEY!"

The Captain screamed as she started to fire at her pursuers. "Up here!" She yelled rather idiotically, shooting through the gaps in the banister like she was before. One man down, then two. Again, she yelled for cannons as if that might speed up the process. A few bullets flew over and past her. Thalia beamed mockingly.

She stood up for a better vantage point, and just to continue with her distraction. It was a wonder she hadn't been shot down by then. The boat was rocking so violently now, though, so it was likely more of a difficult target. Thalia laughed like a madman as she fired. When a bullet grazed her shoulder and cut the cloth on her coat she only laughed louder. She hoped to anger the men more than they had her. If she couldn't kill them on the spot, she wanted to at least annoy them. The gunners around her were getting more bold. That was what she liked; what was the point in all of this if you couldn't have fun doing it? She was done arguing with herself. There was no point in it anymore. Every time, the excitement would overtake her and turn her into whatever the hell she was right then.

Reia walked up and down the ship at least a dozen times, yelling at the men and encouraging them to push harder. Her efforts were working. At least somewhat. The men were working twice as hard, but for some reason, they still couldn’t take down the men headed towards their ship. What was this? Some sort of magic? Part of Reia wanted to scoff at the idea, but she was literal siren, so the theory of the men being protected by some sort of spell didn’t seem like a very far fetched idea.

Reia ducked down next to the captain, aiming her gun at the men and firing a few more shots. She stole a glance over at their leader. When the two first met, Reia didn’t know what to think of their new captain. She was younger than the last captain, and their personalities differed in many ways. But, despite her original grievances, Reia eventually began to warm up to the woman. Not only was she a good leader, but an excellent fighter as well.

“Captain, the men… they aren’t going down.” Reia fired a few more shots before she ducked in cover. “Do you think it’s some sort of magic?”

"Magic or not, we're taking these sons of bitches down." The Captain replied, yelling over gunshots and taking a brief moment from shooting to duck back down and aim again. "But it does seem unnatural. Damn cheats." She stood again and continued. Thalia was not too experienced in the way of magic, with a few exceptions. This was not one of those exceptions. She had no idea what kind of spell this could be or how to break it. It seemed too weak to be a sheild. Maybe a sort of luck charm? Whatever it was appeared to be countered best with the weight and force of what was being fired with the cannons.

"I'd suggest you move places," Thalia said to Reia through gritted teeth, dodging more bullets, eyes on as many hands of the men with guns as possible. At least one of them was slowing, breaking off involuntarily from the other. Even if her aim was practiced and skilled, it was difficult to lay a metaphorical hand on these men. Meddling with magic often had its consequences, at least in the captain's experience, so she hoped it would backfire sometime soon. The next thirty seconds would be a nice time for that.

Thalia managed to take two other men down. In the beginning, there were about fifteen per boat; she estimated there were now probably twenty-one of these opponents now. Nineteen as of now. If only she could just sink them! Why did that have to fail? Regardless, the captain of Corusci Maris grinned through these frustrations and impossible difficulties. With all these close-calls her coat would need some serious tailoring. That and something to remove the specks of blood off of a white shirt. Luckily she wasn't getting to scratched up- only one bullet landed in the area of her skin, and even then it just cut through fabric. The woman's bullet injury from the last year taught her absolutely nothing about gun safety or avoiding these kinds of altercations, and it showed.

(aa thank you guys 😭😭 i love drawing her)

As Blaze got back into position, he realized it would likely be much easier to lob the explosive from a different angle. However, he first readied his cannon and fired as the captain commanded it, missing. He cursed again, but was unsurprised considering the many different directions his mind was going currently. He made sure he had a way to light his makeshift bomb before hurrying up to the deck. He tried to find the best vantage point for aiming. He only had one shot at this, so he better make it count.

How were these boats so damn hard to hit? Blaze was annoyed at himself for missing not once, but twice now, but even with him missing, surely more of the enemies should be down at this point. Did they have some sort of magic shield? Well, his cannonball had managed to get through, so hopefully this explosive would too. He squinted, trying to gauge the right angle to throw it. He had never been great at the math it would require to get all of the technicalities right, but he had enough experience with throwing these chemicals that he could at least guess at what was best.

He finally felt satisfied with his positioning, the boat he was aiming for in his sight. Hopefully this would do the trick, or at the very least distract those onboard the ship long enough that the pirates would have the advantage. Blaze felt with their numbers they already should, but that was besides the point. His only job was to keep people safe and for the love of god, take down these assholes. So he took aim, lit the explosive, and threw as hard as he could. That had to be enough. He had quite the arm, and that one had quite the blast radius, so something had to happen. He stared after it, determined to watch its progress until it exploded before he would go back to his post. Come on…

Thalia's eyes narrowed in concentration. When she was aiming for the boats, it appeared to take about three to five bullets to completely break the wood. But even when she was aiming for people, her shots were missing in ways they definitely shouldn't. Not with her aim, anyway.

Something interrupted her focus as she blinked. Instinctively, the captain's arms flew into a crossing, defensive position at the explosion. When she returned to her normal stance, she watched, eyes widened, as one of the two boats were-… burning? A second later she broke into a fierce grin. Not immune to explosives, huh?

"Did you forget you were chasing a pirate ship?" Whitlock called tauntingly. But she wondered who'd fired that at them. There was one gunner in particular that she assumed must have, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember his name. It'd come to her eventually, and she'd congratulate him or something.

For a moment Captain Whitlock stood and watched the burning boat, still beaming at the blazing display- Blaze. Yes, that was his name, wasn't it? Had to be.

(sorry this is a bit short, itll be longer next time!!)

Obeying her captain’s orders, Reia moved to a new spot on the right hand spot on the ship and began to once again fire at the boat. Part of her wanted to give up trying to shoot the men down and use her stored away magic on them instead. Sure, the crew would likely question her about the origin of this magic, but at least they wouldn’t have to deal with the pesky men anymore. She was about to get up and go back into the ship to retrieve it when, suddenly, a force pushed her back. The boat perusing them had burst into flames, and all of the men on it had been killed.

After watching the explosion take place, Reia turned her eyes back towards the crew. She had seen a man using explosives earlier, and once she spotted Blaze, she knew it had been him who blew up the ship.

“Couldn’t have done that earlier, sweetheart?” she teased. “But nice shot. The captain will be pleased.”