@Wu Yifan There were many stories about her affinity with weapons, and many often called her some sort of witch or enchantress for being able to accomplish what others couldn't. Lisa didn't verify the tales nor did she deny them, she simply stayed away from the stories and stayed in her area. This new ship probably won't be any different, and she would be lying if she said she wasn't interested in the people aboard, after hearing about all their trips.
The second Lisa saw the captain and his position, her eyes fell on the weapon, taking in it's make and model with a single glance, before she directed her gaze at the captain. She knew what he thought of her and she couldn't blame him for being cautious on trusting her skills. However, this left a question that was easily answered seconds after, what is he going to do to find out the truth of her skills?
Lisa followed after the man, hearing the the limp but kept her eyes on the man who is now her captain, "That's me." She spoke, nodding her head at the following question, even though it truly wasn't a question. The childish air around the man made her feel amused, but not deceived by his demeanour and the potential threat he was to her person. Lisa hesitated slightly at the request with a raised eyebrow because she knew she was going to be tested, maybe not now but at some point that's for sure.
Lisa followed his instructions, noticing the similarities between the previous ship she was on and this one, it was no surprise since gun decks were usually the same. She entered the quarters and saw it's relatively small size with only the bare necessities. She would need to move things around to make space for her lab, she realized, not wanting others to mess with her experiments. She set quickly to work, shoving the bed and the cabinets to the back, leaving a table and cabinet at the front of the room. She set her things on the bed, removing some of her supplies to go on the table and tying it down just in case. Besides that, she left everything else in her bag, keeping the small blade and needles on her person along with two guns.
Lisa left the room even though there was more to unpack, but she rather get this test over with so she could atleast feel slightly less tense on the ship. She walked slowly through the area, taking in the weapons left in the gun deck and noting the ones that needed repairs as she approached the captain.
@Lalisa Manoban 'Weapons Master, huh? We'll see about that.' Kris smirked as he polished the hell out of his blade, awaiting the arrival of the new (allegedly infamous) master of the gun, cannon, and heat of battle. Perhaps these were tall-tales and she was simply good with a pistol? Maybe she was just there for the cannons? Who knew?
What Kris /did/ know was that she would need to prove herself one way or another, and not just to him. His impression was nothing compared to how she would impact the team, so that was his biggest concern.
When he actually saw the blonde he just assumed it was her, and nearly rammed her with a gun. Instead he contained himself and limped to the planks where the ship was boarded, and leaned on the of a rifle. He smiled at her and nearly lost his eyes to the crescents of his eyelids. "G'd day, madame. Ye'd be Lalisa, then?" His leg shifted uncomfortably so he began to walk to ease the pressure. "Do come aboard, miss. To the gun deck with ye?" He escorted her down the stairs, almost too excitedly and skipped the bottom step in a childish hop. He then leaned against the wall nonchalantly and pointed. "There are quarters in the back beneat' stairs. Feel free to settle in b'fore comin' to see me here." when she hesitated, he grinned wickedly (in the name of fun, of course) and shouted. "Shoo!"
@Moon Byulyi [You're right. We should do some room-hopping. As for the requests, I'm fine with the existing rooms. :-) Let's just assume that it's Dennis' land at some point in the narration? Apologies for the short reply. Feel free to godmodd him, do some time-skip, or add something to the scene...as well as room hopping. :-)]
"Very well," Dennis looked away, holding back a smile at her disapproval of the word, although he might sneak in the courtesy in several occasions if it would help boost the morale. However, both eyebrows raised at her request, which seemed too random—too unexpected to be the first thing she would ask for. Dennis poked his head out from the alley and looked around; they were in a neighboring region—fortunately, one of Dennis' allied lands.
Her request troubled him somehow. Royalty and noblemen have personal tailors and seamstress, but costume shops do exist; however, their locations are very specific. "If you're lucky, we'd be able to find a circus nearby or a travelling group of entertainers. A costume shop is a bad investment for commoners, though I can accompany you to a seamstress and you can request for anything. But, if I may know: Why a costume shop?"
But then, Dennis heard a familiar laugh—the same laugh when "they" arrive at his land. Usually he would appreciate their presence because his people—especially the children—enjoyed their performances. But Dennis despised one clown. His hand unconsciously reached up to touch the tip of his nose, recalling the sour-smelling cream pie thrown at his face. There must be a group of travelling entertainers nearby, and he wasn't thrilled to meet them. Dennis eyed Byulyi, pondering if she's better at dealing with entertainers.
@Dennis Oh (Yes yes! Perhaps we should move rooms as well to really settle with the environment! Can always request for your area to be created maybe? <:)
The cockle boat was the smart move when it came to maneuvering to the dock, faster as well as it did not carry the weight of men and their inflating egos. She wondered if she would still be allowed around the gun deck after what transpired. Or if she would even be let out the infirmary with the exception of using the lady's room. Perhaps this was fate, time to search for a new ship?
"If you enter Grimspire with this, no one will harm you."
"Seems sketchy but okay..." the button rolled softly against the faces of her fingers. She was invested in the way the light reflected off the gold, the magpie glimmering warmly. An interesting choice, she thought. As normally, nobles would tend to navigate towards more strong animals, those higher up in the animal kingdom. The stronger the symbol, the more powerful they appear. Byulyi's vision focused solely on Dennis as he drone on and one, her surroundings blurring as her mind threw her back to a few years back.
She had acquired her mother's client list then, hands trembling at the document that (listed) out her dead mother's killer. With her town taken over by her crew after it was invaded by bandits, the townsfolk had no choice but to listen to them. This was what she would use to guide her journey. Her eyes had traveled over the ripped paper, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as they scanned over...animals? Birds? What was going on? Despite having to had been utterly confused and astonished at the lack of detail, she soon found out that they were used as aliases. It was their symbol for their entrance to the brothel. However, because they were a sea port town, many nobles entered and left every week without fail. But Byulyi never forgot the list as it only (listed) 5 beings. Mantis, boar, coyote, dragonfly, deer.
She snapped back to reality as Dennis spoke the lines of "You can sell it for all I care," cheeks tinted a dusty rose at fading in and out of the one sided conversation. She only caught on bits here and there. "I won't. It will be secure, I assure you. I would rather the safety of my life and having some sort of connection to you than to sell it when it's so useful to me."
"Requests...uh, first m'lady really makes me sick and you won't...hm, you won't need to call me that anymore....is there a costume shop in your town by any chance?"
@Moon Byulyi [Noted but feel free to make the last reply if you feel like it.]
The cockleboat seems like the best way to get to the harbor without garnering any suspicious looks from local fishermen. They left when blood on his shirt turned dark brown, because a freshly blood-stained duke can stir rumors faster than heralds spreading the king's announcements. Even though Dennis could always borrow a spare shirt from pirates, or simply take it off—the insignia on his buttons allow him unquestioned access to allied places.
He decided to give one to Byulyi.
Dennis went to the alleyway so no one would notice them. He unfastened the first button of his shirt. Even though all of his buttons had the insignia, the first one is made of gold. The insignia was a magpie—his grandfather's favorite bird—because not only does he consider it as an intelligent animal, but magpies are said to be attracted to shiny things: not necessarily riches like jewelry, but anything that stood out.
A polished tip of an arrow, or a link of a chain, or even a shiny nail.
"If you enter Grimspire with this, no one will harm you. You see, we need a safe place to meet." Dennis showed her the insignia. "Any of my buttons will do but gold means it's something important that people shouldn't poke their noses into. My people will understand. They respect my privacy as much as I respect their demands for transparency of my plans for Grimspire. There's nothing to worry. I'm a different person when I'm at home."
"You can sell it for all I care," Both eyebrows raised in a curiosity. He pondered if Byulyi would exchange it for pouches of gold. But that would mean death for the new owner because holders are granted status and Dennis only gave three people his buttons which includes Byulyi. "I promised you protection and gold. Please don't lose it."
"Any requests before I go..." Dennis eyed the boat, holding back a smile before adding, "...M'lady?"
@Dennis Oh "Let's hope, that there ain't a next time." Byulyi's eye twitched ever so quickly as he touched his neck marks again. She didn't want him to cause more redness and bruise the injury even further. But she didn't say anything. The appearance of the finger marks would only show his allegiance, that he was fighting against the navy in order to survive and to aid her. And the crew while they were knocked out. A wry smile appeared on her lips as she glanced over her shoulder again to look out into the distance. Surely, they would feel the humiliation for sleeping and drinking through such an incident. It would leave a dent in their pride and ego. It would not be hard for them to sell a story to such a pretentious group.
She crossed her right leg over her left, casually leaning against the railing as she folded her arms yet again. "Aye. It would be a priority for you to get on land again, as you are, more...useful? There. Plus with all this," Byulyi coiled a lock of hair with her fingers. "We're going to need repairs and information, what nots. The basics. First off, how the fleet found us, in the middle of nowhere. It doesn't seem to be a chance encounter but who knows, maybe I'm thinking too much into it yeah?"
By this time, the agonizing cries were no longer heard, long consumed by the roaring seas. She assumed that all men originally boarded on the ship were dead. All the better. "One wrong word and yes, you would've been shark bait. But I'm a nice girl, see? I don't raise my fists," she feigned bashfulness, cupping her cheeks as if to display shyness. She had already said too much about her past. With the tightening of her lips, she only sent a dry smile the nobleman's way. It had been a while since she got to talk to someone so freely like so. Undoubtedly, with the time span it made her weak to individuals at her wavelength. Perhaps it was due to stress and rapid mental aging but who knows. Dennis was not, will never be, someone whom she would consider to be a 'friend'. At least for the time being, his every being screamed out to her as deceitful and manipulative. Much like herself.
"Indebted seems like an exotic word for you." Despite her words, she couldn't help the euphoric expression that briefly masked her usual stoic appearance. To think that she would be able to have a way into the kingdom without the use of force was truly a once in a million chance. "I can't say I trust you fully but...would anyone? You're no one's hostage here, mate. But you will be my connection."
(I feel like this part is rather talk-y so if you want to do a time skip to land or whatever feel free to!)
@Moon Byulyi .
.
Dennis d his neck, which was still sore from the Captain's hold. It didn't bother him, but this would give him a hard time to come up with an excuse. While Byulyi was readying her muzzle, Dennis thought of what she said: Perhaps, it may be harder to believe that a pirate and a duke teamed up to burn an entire ship, and kill seven people onboard of Dragon Goddess with barely a scratch. It will be the truth that most would refuse to believe, even for Dennis if he wasn't in the scene. He looked at her, slightly troubled—almost as if he was out of ammo when it comes to excuses—but then the pirate lady brought up that embarrassing memory form awhile ago. Dennis dodged her stare in extreme embarrassment. "Next time, I'll make sure I won't miss." He grumbled quietly.
"I'll share the same sentiment. I'm not eager to lose acknowledgment, but it is the price I need to pay. My people, my enemies, and my colleagues need to know three things about me: I'm a rich duke with many connections. Whether I caught the most wanted fugitive, or I saved a thousand es from a burning brothel—no one can know about those if I want an easy life." He said, peeking over the edge of the ship. Eyes scanned the seas as if he was in scavenger hunt, searching for life. But their cries made it certain. Dennis turned to her. "If you can get me out of here soon, I'll make sure the high court won't do that."
Butcher's boy? A boy? The word had Dennis' ear perked up. But he kept himself silent and attentive. His eyes following her glance to the short dagger that he held a while ago. "Were you itching to stab me with that before the navy appeared?" Dennis teased until Byulyi's brief silence made him hold back a smile. She was different from the women he encountered, although most of them possess a talent for deception, but in Byulyi's case—from what she told him about living a dangerous life—she took hold a shard of a perspective out of reach for most women.
She knew, even for a bit, how typical men would operate, especially the likes of lowborn men. He wouldn't be surprised if she disguised like one. Maybe that's why she called herself a butcher's boy.
When she told him about this mysterious task, Dennis' hand reached up to touch his neck once more. "I hate being indebted. It feels like being chained to someone. You saved my life, directly, which makes me indebted to you. Now, if you think I deserve your trust, I can help you with that. But I can't do that if you keep me hostage."
"Clearly, I need more practice," came the grumble as she reloaded the musket, noting the numbered ammo left in it. She made a mental note to retrieve some from the lower deck soon, morning was arriving soon. However, with the current location sitting days away from the nearest port, the deaths of the officers remaining was certain. With their ship down and sails burnt to ashes, they were not going anywhere anytime soon. "If I weren't the Goddess' medic, they would've cleaved me to my brisket." Byulyi raised her free index finger from her stomach to her shoulder to indicate a cutting motion. "Dead men tell no tales...it'll only be my side of the event, along with yours. The scumbags will be more prone to believe me so I don't know how they're going to treat you," she muttered loudly, head touching the firearm again as she readied the trigger.
The sight that the crew was going to wake up too would be horrendous. She reckoned that the newbies would vomit at the sight, another note to ready the cleaning boys. The entire ship had the fragrance of burnt rot and charcoal, with the slightest coppery tinge from the blood splats. The bodies scattered around would be a more difficult story to fix. After all, how could a mere female take out seven men of the sea's royal army? Despite being trained, surely it would be seen as impossible. The musket went off again, smoke lightly floating away from the muzzle. "You distracted them long enough for me to do it all, doesn't make me happy to take all the credit when you were turning purple as I was running around," Byulyi replied as she glanced back at Dennis, the genuine grin appearing as she recalled the events. "Never seen a nobleman miss a stab so badly, aye, in the moment I guess."
"I've spent years bluffing my way to my current rank, I've never even touched another's wound until I got on this ship. I'll think of something. And you have your own on your hands. As long as they don't send dozens of ships with loaded artillery tomorrow night."
She settled the musket down by the , savoring the desperate cries of the drowning men. "Well that's a way to put it. Would you believe I was once a butcher's boy? Or apprentice in fancier terms." Byulyi glanced down at the strapped short blade on her thigh, sullied with dried blood but the edge still glistened as some light reflected off it. "This was his, given to me when I was forcefully taken to the Goddess but it's no biggie, gives me reassurance at night if anyone tries to sneak into my bed." She offered a chuckle before dying it down, growing silent for a brief moment. "I have reasons to be a...pirate...this allows me free travel and information for my role. I learn how to be dangerous, I learn how to operate dangerous things, I learn how to be a man in these rough times. Like I said, it's easier to be a man here and on land than to go about as a woman." The flames behind her dwindled as some time passed. "I have something I need to do. Someone I want to see."
@Moon Byulyi "How am I going to explain everything to the captains when they wake up?"
Dennis followed Byulyi, walking beside her as they went to a higher level of the ship. He pondered on her inquiry—empty of ideas—either because he was too exhausted to talk, or the fact that going against the navy doesn't make him a pirate. "You could bluff." It was an obvious answer coming from him, but she carried out a huge chunk of their plan—mostly the difficult tasks. Dennis was only there to stall time, and talk his way out. "Tell them that you killed everyone and set their ship on fire. If it'll earn you some kind of respect from your peers, that'll be nice."
"As for me, I have a reputation to preserve." Dennis winced when they emerged from the lower deck, even if it was still dawn, as if he was used to the dimness. "The high court will demand explanations, and it's best for both of us if they see this as an accident. Since Captain Jarrod enjoys restocking his supplies, it's easy to trick them into believing that fire was made by an enthusiastic naval newcomer who got reckless with gunpowder and other explosives. I'll fix the inconsistencies later. But I assure that they won't send 50 ships to hunt you down."
The lie came out smoothly and easily—as how fire effortlessly stretches to the ends of the ship. The sight was beautiful, despite horrid screams from the distance. Many wives would become windows; trainers executed; and harsher training regimen would wait for the infant batch of navy apprentices. But as long it didn't serve a threat to his plans, Dennis doesn't mind if the ship burns."
"So what do you want to do with me as your hostag—" Dennis eyed Byulyi, pausing as the girl drew out a large smoothbore gun. In one day, she operated three, no, four weapons: the dagger, the cannon, the blunderbuss, and a musket. He turned to the scene: naval forces were scattered on the water and Byulyi was ready to pick them off. Dennis cracked a tiny smile.
"Enjoy," He said, walking to the nearest barrel or crate to sit on. "You know, at first, I though you weren't born a pirate. Maybe, I'm wrong. I don't know. But for a pirate, you don't seem... directionless. Just more complicated than your ordinary pirate."
@Dennis Oh The sight that Byulyi registered after firing was the reddened skin that resembled fingers around the nobleman's neck. She could see that his expression clearly matched hers, shocked, alarm, all the synonyms of it. The bang of the gun still rung in her ears, clear as day. Over and over again, the thud as it ran into the skull of the captain, then the body dropping. The adrenaline rush continued to cause her heart beat to accelerate and to keep a sustained grasp on the blunderbus.
"Here."
She didn't get how his voice remained so steady after what just happened. He had almost died. Had she not caught the tail of whispers from running around, she would've ran into a scene of the bodies in the opposite position. Byulyi eyed the strained skin of his neck as she quietly took ahold of her dagger again, cleaning the blade quickly on her clothing before slipping it back into the sheath. She would be heading back to the infirmary in due time. There was an elongated period of silence from her as she surveyed the current situation. One man dead in the gun deck. Five officers dead on the main deck. One captain dead in the lowest level. Cannons that stank with lard and burnt wood. Bloody footprints marking the wood. And in the best case scenario, a navy fleet engulfed in flames. More importantly, the appearance of a nobleman, covered in grime and blood, his posturing looking as proud as he was prior. "How am I going to explain everything to the captains when they wake up?" Byulyi muttered as she walked back up the steps.
The brightness struck out to her before anything.
Indeed, the fleet was lit up similar to a bonfire. The sails, immersed in unforgiving flames, burning at a rapid pace as charred wood fell onto unfortunate soldiers. Those who had their clothes caught in flames, struggled to remove the clothing or jumped off the ship and into the sea. The waters swallowed most, heads never seen peeking back up. The fire was the most beautiful thing she had seen as it shone fiercely with the changing skies, the soft gradient from darkness to the slightest bit of sun. Dawn had almost arrived. Byulyi becomes momentarily distracted by the rays streaming from the fire, however it was broken at the distant cries of officers; A few littered on the head of the ship and a few in the waters.
The musket on her back still remained unused. But that would change as she withdrew it from its holding, resting her cheek against the cool metal. Her left eye closing, putting all the focus into the other. With a soft sigh, Byulyi pulled back the lock, anchoring the gun comfortably in her arms. It would be her greatest pleasure to pick them off.
@Moon Byulyi With the captain's face inches from his, Dennis got a whiff of the scent of tobacco. Part of him complained about dying like this: inside a rotting ship with his neck crushed by a meathead from the naval forces—all because he was trying to get more allies. How unlucky. And yet, it seemed righteous in one perspective. When Jarrod grabbed his neck, squeezing it tighter until Dennis could feel pressure rising to his face—it felt like politics was winning. But he felt bad for involving the pirates.
"You won't win." He managed to say.
It appears he struck a nerve, because Jarrod's eye twitched. The bearded man pressed the blade tightly, enough to make a small cut, but it was that beefy hand that squeezed his neck that brought Dennis in so much pain. "But between us, you're the one who wouldn't see morning." Jarrod sneered
Being choked had an entirely different kind of pain. It wasn't as concentrated as a bullet wound, or dull and throbbing as the one from a blunt force. Pressure itself is pain, and it feels like Dennis' head will explode anytime soon. But strangely—there was a sound of something exploding. Something familiar overshadowed by the blast of the cannon. He already heard it before because he fired that. Blunderbuss.
Dennis shifted his gaze to Jarrod, whose face was stricken in pain. His hand loosened on Dennis' neck until the bearded man fell on the filthy ground. With Jarrod out of the way, Dennis' view of him was replaced by Byulyi. She was holding blunderbuss, probably the same way he held it earlier: in a rush to fire the cursed thing. Dennis touched his neck, clearing his throat before bending to pick up the dagger that separated from his fingers when Jarrod started choking him. With Jarrod dead, Blunderbuss was now aimed at him, and so when he walked towards Byulyi, Dennis carefully lowered Blunderbuss to a different target.
"Here." He said, reaching out to return the dagger; his voice calm and laid-back as if nothing happened. "Let's go watch the bonfire. You might take pleasure picking out naval forces that will try to swim away."
Dennis was exhausted; his posture attested to that. When he looked at Byulyi, covered in blood, looking more or less tired than he was—Dennis felt something that he didn't like. Probably he would refuse to admit it, but after everything that happened, he knew that he shouldn't lock himself in self-denial. Indebted.
Byulyi saved his life, and he is greatly indebted to her.
@Dennis Oh "Stay alive long enough to do so." Byulyi took another glance at the blood coated blade in his hands before turning away. She never parted from it before. Her fingers coiled against the handle of the blunderbus, still warm from how long he held onto it for. The ammunition for it was out but it would be difficult to find more in the deck there were at.
She stained her clothes more with the blood on her hands, daring to even rub some onto her neck to seem as if her body was on the ground after being stabbed and strangled. The most common way to die, she thought before sprawling herself onto the ground near the officer. She lied down with her chest facing the ground in fear that he could see her breathing had it been the other way.
"You killed them?"
"And you're next."
She could hear the pseudo confidence laced into his words, his fake pride clearly trying to divert the captain's attention to himself. But it didn't work for long as footsteps came near her body. It stopped a few feet away before approaching closer to where she lied, a warmth inching near her neck. Her heart quickened in beats, breathe held sharply and the face of her fingertips sinking roughly into the ground. If he touched her and felt the pulse, she would elbow him. She would her skull into his jugular. She would-- a distraught cry threw her off her frazzled thoughts. She could feel the spray of something warm landing on her skin...blood? The only thing registering next was the heavy thumps of figures running away from her, one pair uneasy on his feet. Once Byulyi was certain that they were far enough, her eyes flew open in shock and relief. But as quickly as the relief came, it was transformed into one of anxiousness. "Dennis?"
She could still hear the faint frantic cries of the navy captain as he continued to run after the male, signaling that he was still safe temporarily.
"Dennis...---"
"I have to........wildfire...fire fire fire," she continued to chant as she turned back to the ceramic pot, legs immediately crawling to it. She gripped tightly onto the handle, shoving her legs up with the support of her knees. Byulyi made a dash towards the cannons, at this point, desperate to load the artillery with the lard.
She couldn't hear them anymore.
She continued to repeat the words as her hands fumbled around the pockets of her pants until they finally picked ahold of a box of matches. The female took it out, fingers shaking, trembling with anxiety and it caused the box to drop. "!" Desperate claws to the ground, fingers clutching onto nothing, nothing, nothing, something! "Fire fire fire fire, fire, fire---" it was Lady Luck that finally allowed the match to light on the first go, a bright flame the dispelled the darkness as it lit up the ends of the rope. One by one, they lit up. Sizzling. Sweat bead dropping. Time racing. Ensuring that all the loaded cannons were fired up and just needed a bit of time to blast away, Byulyi made a dash towards to where she last heard the voices. Her panicked breathing jumped at the slightest of noise, the whiplashed sails at the wind, the creaking of old wood, the rolling of ammunition then dropping to the ground as she loosely grabbed some that were situated on top of a barrel lid.
"Dennis?"
Byulyi sprinted from one end of the deck to the other, her thighs pleading for her cease movement. But she couldn't. The faint voices grew near again as she approached the stairs. Her own footsteps weaved in with the noise, bustling fingers around the blunderbus, loading it just in time to see a uniformed man hovering over a body, his blade centimeters away from the vulnerable skin. Her body thought for her, pulling back the trigger the movement she reached near the bottom of the steps, and she fired.
The first blast of the cannon was heard in the night.
@Moon Byulyi Hesitation. It was the first time he saw Byulyi hesitate over his request, when minutes ago—she was very decisive, punching through Dennis' offers. Something must be special about that dagger, but it was the weapon that killed Jarrod's officer. If they want to prevent fifty men to take over the ship, Dennis needs that dagger, so he could spar using his rhetoric. "Another good reason not to die." He murmured and gripped the dagger tightly, gazing at Byulyi, "I have to return this to its proper owner later."
Dennis handed her the blunderbuss in return because it was out of ammo he didn't know how to reload the thing. And when footsteps became louder Dennis gave Byulyi one last look and raced outside the room and stood in front of the hallway.
"I needed to take him to the orlop deck but I don't know how." Dennis muttered to himself, running around hallway to find an entrance. He almost reached the deck's end when Jarrod arrived at their level of the ship. Dennis made sure he was noticeable—with his white shirt, it shouldn't be difficult, but it was dark inside the ship so he had to come closer.
"I can't wait to bring your head to the high court." Jarrod snarled, unsheathing his sword and taking one step closer. "Where's your gun now? Out of ammunition?"
Dennis kept the dagger behind him, "I need you to come closer, captain, since I have a terrible aim. All four of your men agree to that when their bodies fell on the rooting wood of this cursed ship."
"Watch your tongue." Jarrod paused, catching a glimpse of two figures in his periphery. On his left was the gun deck, where to bodies lie on the floor. One of them was the officer he sent to spy on the ship—and the other was a young lady: a pirate perhaps, because of her appearance. Jarrod entered the room, "You killed them?"
"And you're next." Dennis sneered, trying to be confident as he walked closer to the bearded man. He kept himself close to the room just in case Jarrod turns around and lunges at him. From the corner of his eye, he could see the captain studying the two bodies. One was incredibly paler than the other. The captain reached out—about to touch Byulyi's neck for her temperature when Dennis lunged at him.
He was aiming for the back but Jarrod twisted his body; the dagger connecting with his shoulder. It didn't kill him but it was enough to get his attention. Dennis took out the narrow dagger and ran to the nearest entrance he could find. Fortunately, he stumbled onto the entrance of the orlop deck, where no one would hear Jarrod's voice. The navy captain ran after him, swinging his sword listlessly. It seems Dennis stabbed the shoulder of his dominant hand. "Bastard, I will kill you!" Jarrod yelled.
The sword almost missed Dennis' head several times. He was tall and scrawny, slow and untrained. Rhetoric wouldn't work this time, and he knew it. The best he could do was run, prevent himself from tripping and hope for the best that Byulyi will get the cannon loaded. Even if she did, he was stuck with the bearded man in the lowest deck where no one would hear them. Death seemed inevitable, but Dennis is willing to talk his way out. Jarrod reached up to him and grabbed Dennis by the collar. The blade of his sword touching his neck. "Let's see you talk your way out of this. Why are you siding with the pirates?"
"I don't side with anyone!" Dennis was hesitant but he took a deep breath. He needed to stall time. "Do you know what sits higher than a king? A crown. A political ideology composed of tiny narratives: from the death of a knight to a e's tragedy—all of which are overshadowed by a glory of an empire, ruled not by a king but the ideology he endorses. Pages wouldn't record this very incident because it belongs to the tiny narratives that didn't matter to the big picture. We may be pawns but kings and queens are chess pieces too. Ideologies are hands that controls. I have no respect for grand ideologies because I side with the—" Dennis paused, if he talks, he'll lose.
But Jarrod wasn't buying that, "I should decapitate you but I want to crush that neck so badly and hear you plead. It'll be your last and most wisest remark. "Please, please forgive me, Captain" Bah!"
A loud boom was heard at the dead of night, overwhelming the thumps of footsteps heard upstairs. Byulyi froze. It was a sound she knew well. And it wasn't a good sound to hear with the current situation. The blunderbus she gave Dennis earlier, it couldn't be anything else. The sound of the firearm going off and the following bumps of bodies dropping to the ground, there was no mistaken. Was he dead? Her hands, coated with blood, shook slightly at the sudden shock of killing a man. It wasn't the first time, but her life hadn't been so close being slaughtered like so.
The Goddess swerved suddenly, causing her to knock onto the ground, crashing into the now-dead navy officer. She violently jerked away from it only to crash back down onto it again as the the ship continued to move harshly. The smell of copper and the fatty oil invaded her again causing her expression to screw in growing repugnance.
"--Christ." The whisper surprised her, her head whipping around as if a slap connected to her cheek. She was astonish to see a familiar man standing at the steps of the stairs leading to the current deck level, moreover the jagged state he was in, hand still clutching the gun tightly.
"Dennis," was all she could muster, stunned at the living, breathing, a strange look in his eyes that reflected...fear? But nonetheless, a Dennis Oh that stood alive. It wasn't his body that touched the ground, but the officers he shot. She exhaled a breathe of relief. His tone changed as quickly as he came, reverting back to the calm and stoic manner that screamed of pride and egotism. Byulyi pushed herself off the ground with tired knees, hands dirtying with the blood and dirt on the ground. She began to wipe it onto the cloth of her pants, only to pause in bewilderment at his request. "He's still alive...? And-- I can't give you my dagger it..." her fingers clasped around the dagger tightened further, gripping down onto it as she bit onto her lip again. There was no time for memories. She glanced up at him before back down at the dagger, a few seconds later ing it towards him as he covered his own hands with the blood from the dead body.
"Where are you, sneaky bastard! I'll put your head on a spike!"
Her eyes flickered to the direction of the booming voice.
"It won't take me long to load the cannons, I've done it before. I-I can play dead when he walks by but if he does anything I'll kill him." Byulyi hoped that he didn't catch her slight stutter. "Do what you have to do but it won't change the fact that one of his ing men is dead now, he's not going to be fond of the ones upstairs and here. Stay safe."
(Feel free to godmod playing dead or loading stuff if you need to, cause she's going to need to load the cannons w the fat and wood, and also light it up so it will be a bit of time)
@Moon Byulyi (2/2)
.
Dennis shifted his attention to the weapons. He needed to reload his blunderbuss but it was the first time he used a firearm like this. Jarrod's curses were faint but audible. He must have entered the lower deck. The young duke pointed to Byulyi's clothes and said, "Wipe your hands and give me your dagger. He can't know that you killed that man; otherwise, Jarrod will see it as a threat and call reinforcements. I need him to be stupid and I need his attention on me, so if you think he's closer, I need you to do one thing. It's ridiculous! But it'll buy you some time."
"Where are you, sneaky bastard!" Jarrod yelled. "I'll put your head on a spike!"
Dennis knelt down, putting his hand on the man's wounds. He squeezed the rubbery skin until his hands were tainted with blood. It last thing he wanted to see. "I could've asked you to wear his clothes and pose as an officer but that would take too much time. I don't know if you have a better idea but please—"
"I need you to play dead when Jarrod passes by." He pleaded.
@Moon Byulyi (1/2)
.
Their movements were strange; out of place, which is unlikely for military forces because leaders would usually call an order to stand by. They were scattered, walking like mindless zombies, as if they were bored. "What are you—" Dennis murmured; his finger resting on the trigger of blunderbuss which he already took out. He held the gun behind him, ready to unleash whatever it contained. And yet, he wasn't thrilled. Firearms are underdeveloped. The closest they have are crossbows and arrows. Guns are beyond him.
Something caught Dennis' eye. The young duke inched closer to the edge of the ship, careful with his blunderbuss. There was a floating piece of wood within his periphery, but as he went closer to the edge—Dennis could make out something bigger. It wasn't a piece of wood. It was a cockleboat with the navy's insignia carved on the side. He leaned forward: his head out in the open, as he looked down. The cockleboat was located below the window. "Impudent motherfu—"
There was a loud cry, almost like a battle cry. But it was full of anguish. Jarrod and his men stopped walking and turned their head to Dennis. "What is the meaning this?!" The bearded man yelled, advancing towards Dennis while his men instinctively ran to the entrance of the lower deck.
Bang!
Jarrod turned to his left. All of his men were on the ground, bleeding and severely wounded. Barely alive. Smoke dispersed from the direction where the duke was standing. Dennis was shaking; the blunderbuss almost slipped from his fingers. He couldn't handle its power as five buckshot pellets were discharged all at once.
"Traitor." Jarrod snorted and spat before marching towards Dennis.
The young duke could've fired at Jarrod, but he couldn't let his men enter the lower deck—even though Jarrod could easily command 50 men to take over the ship. Dennis needs to keep him occupied before the captain gets this idea. Hopefully it would give Byul enough time to prepare the wildfire, but after learning that Jarrod sent another man without Dennis knowing, he needed to get back to the lower deck. It was an anguished cry—clearly from a male—but that doesn't guarantee that the man was dead. Dennis needed that wildfire immediately.
"Halt." He pointed blunderbuss, heading for the wheel. Even though the weapon was empty, Dennis knew he could bluff his way out. His hand grabbed the handle of the wheel and sneered, "You saw what happened to them and I can do it again."
Jarrod his lips, slowly raising both hands in surrender. "Don't do anything reckless, m'lord."
"I'm not a reckless man." Dennis eyed the entrance to the lower deck. "But, I am a gambler."
The ship violently tilted on its side, knocking Jarrod off his feet as Dennis stirred the wheel aggressively in one direction. It swerved away from the navy ship, and towards the open seas. Dennis fell on his knees too, stumbling several times as he scuttled his way to the lower deck. Drunken bodies glided across the floor, piling up to the corner of the room, but Dennis paid no attention as he ran to the gun deck. His heaves were ragged. His body exhausted.
"I heard a scream—Christ." What he saw in that room was ghastly. A dead body slid to the corner; a bloody hand covered his mouth. Dennis looked at her in disbelief. Almost frightened. Then he shifted his gaze to the body. If he didn't swallow his pride a while ago, he would suffer the same fate as this man.
"Are you all righ—" Dennis held back upon realizing something. The concern in his voice was replaced by the same calm tone that his enemies hated so much. "No. You're fine. I know it."—or at least, that's what he prefers to tell himself. Byulyi wouldn't want his concern, because even if Dennis couldn't tell if she was bleeding or not; if it was her blood mixed with Jarrod's officer or not, the worst he could do to Byulyi is belittle her as how men would come into the aid of wounded damsels. Byulyi is far from a damsel in distress.
@Dennis Oh (2/2)
"And whatdya have here? A woman," the voice behind purred, throwing her mind in a fit of panic. She hadn't seen anyone come down the stairs. Was Dennis already caught? His lies, all up? Or perhaps he gave her up and made her run around like a hamster for nothing? "Captain Jarrod sent me to spy on the lower parts of the ship, with how quiet it is around here he was right to. Who'd knew I'd encounter a dirty pirate here, and a pretty girl at that. Oh the captain would sure love yo--" he didn't finish his sentence, only letting out a loud howl as the dagger digs into his sides. Byulyi had used her dominant hand to reach for the dagger at her thigh while holding his blade away from her skin with her left. He momentarily backed out, holding onto the bleeding wound as she whipped her body around. The sword he held dropped onto the ground, clanging against it as he whimpered, putting his hand up for defense. "No, wait!" A pitiful one as she lunged at him in rage, temporarily forgetting her body's fatigue as she stabbed him in the side again with the dagger she held. She sent more jabs into him, coating her own hands with his blood as she covered his mouth to prevent him from yelling out more.
She ed up.
She ed up.
She ed up and lowered her guard to let someone slip in. It wasn't in her calculations and sure as hell wasn't in Dennis' either. His yell was loud, for her it still rang in her ears but she didn't know how much it traveled to the main deck. And she didn't want to know. All she knew was that the cannons had to be loaded before they found out.
@Dennis Oh (1/2)
Byulyi lunged the pot out the door, using her side and hand to scoop it to allow for quicker strides. There wasn't time to waste. The night didn't show any signs of morning yet, which was lucky as it would be more difficult to spot her. What she didn't take into account at the moment was that it was also harder to spot others. Grunting, she continued to step over bodies, her bun slipping loose, causing baby hair to fly stray. The stairs that led from the lower deck to the entrance leading to doors that would bring her to the infirmary wasn't located far, perhaps a three minute walk max. And with her speed it took shorter.
Only the sound of light footsteps were heard as she scurried down the second flight of stairs leading down to the deck below where her and Dennis originally were. However, it didn't just end there. The cargo hold was located at the ground level, near the water casks and pumps. The entire level was dedicated to the backstage, the maneuvering and handling of the ship's engines. And it was also for holding excess crates for future use. Namely, the fat. Byulyi could hear herself panting from the shortage of breath, the pottery clearly slowly her down as she went down the last flight of stairs. Thankfully, the smallest of fire from the candlelights littered around allowed for sight as she scrambled to get into the ground storage. The smell of wet wood and rotting stock filled her nose, again, familiar but unwanted during her visits.
She didn't know how much time had passed, nor of the state Dennis was in. The only thought passing through was, I need more time, I need to hurry.
Byulyi reached up to grab a candlelight off the wall, using it to navigate her way around the massive amounts of kegs and packing cases. "It was near the..." her words trailed off as the odor of the rotten food traveled to her nose again, almost dry heaving at the scent. "There!" It was the fat. She was unsure of how old the products at the bottom were, however at the top were catches from weeks before. She settled the ceramic pot onto the ground before jolting back up to remove the lid. By doing so, fully released the putrid stench that had her morphing her expression into reclusion. She should've just sent Dennis down here to handle the rot instead. Byulyi looked around for a scoop, anything to pick the goop up. Worst and last case scenario, her hands would have to do however not in this situation, or any situation really it was disgusting. She reached into the pot and pulled out the widest wood in it. Carefully pushing it closer to the barrel, she scooped the tuna fat into the pot, getting as much as the grease in it as possible.
At least 10 minutes must have passed after getting as much in and walking to the stairs. Her arms grew tired from the carrying, softly screaming for them to have a break. But time. She didn't have time.
By the time she reached the lower deck, beads of sweat ran down her neck, the evening's breeze being a blessing. She walked a few more steps, inching closer to the nearest cannon before setting the ceramic pot down onto the ground, exhausted and shoulders aching. She hadn't moved or carried this much in a long time. Byuyli didn't hear the sound of another pair of footsteps joining her as she made her way up to the lower deck just seconds prior. Over the energy depletion, had also not noticed another figure that had crept in from one of the windows, watching her movement up the part of her dropping the pot down. By the time she heard the creaking of the wood, a hand grasped onto her ponytail, jerking her head up and leaving her neck exposed to a blade.
@Moon Byulyi .
Usually, Dennis would prepare his lines for days—sorting out the worst case scenario and preparing countermeasures; swallowing his pride comes unlikely. Only for a scenario like his previous negotiation minutes ago. However, with a large bearded man gripping the hilt of his sword as if he was ready to take it out—Dennis was forced to come up with any excuse. "These pirates are better than you." He blurted out.
The bearded man raised an eyebrow, "How so? My ship is always maintained. We have the finest weapons, and only the best in their ranks are qualified to join my crew. Tell me, how are they better than us?"
Pride, what a fragile thing. Dennis eyed every single one of them. Suddenly, every back was straightened, and every chin, raised—as if Dennis poked a hole on their abdomens and all the air went up to their chests. He finally found a crack on their pride where his rhetoric can seep through: They all hated being compared to pirates.
Worse. They hated being regarded as inferior to them.
"They are more resourceful and more cunning than all of you. Pirates have outdated equipment, and fewer funds to replace rotting wood. However, they could sail for years and come back with the ship intact." Dennis smiled arrogantly while he pointed to the patches of wood that make up the ship. "Strange, isn't it? That's why I'm here to find out because even though ships are expensive—your demands for better equipment and monthly maintenance is taking too much budget, which is bad since the country is so eager to have ships. Now, let me do my job."
Everything he said was idle talk—better termed as horsecrap. Even Dennis was surprised that he could come up something like this. Dennis bit his lip, hoping that Byulyi gathered enough tuna fat. The navy, on the other hand, appears to have bought his tittle-tattle, even though they were clearly offended.
"10 minutes." Jarrod grumbled. "I'll give you 10 minutes to finish your 'research'. I still have an order to carry out."
"Fifteen. You owe me that much for wasting my time." Dennis insisted, taking Jarrod's sigh as a "yes".
"Very good. But your men will stay here." Dennis ordered. He needed to put distance between Jarrod and himself, because the moment Byulyi unleashes wildfire, he'll be regarded as a traitor and get himself killed. The best he could do is retreat to the quarter deck and stay close to the ship's wheel. Eventually, someone has to maneuver the damned thing and prevent the navy from staying on their feet. He can't let them reach the lower deck.
Little did he know that Jarrod was also the type to play dirty. He murmured to one of his men, "Tell them to send one. Use the cockleboat and enter through the window." He grabbed his collar, "Inform him that he has ten minutes to reach this boat explore the lower deck, and report back. Make sure m'lord doesn't know."
After reaching the quarter deck, Dennis counted everyone. They're all still here. But something was strange. Everyone was a scattered; walking in circles as if to distract him. "I don't like this." He reached for blunderbuss.
@Dennis Oh Technically, she still had time to, what was the word? Betray, the man. He had been rights about easily gathering information from another pirate who would be more compliant and less of a hassle to deal with. They would be satisfied with the terms he laid out. But she was not. She could easily escape without him or anyone else. Granted, it would leave her wanted from both land and water alike, leaving her to live a life of unrest. Byulyi shook her head furiously before reached her hands above to tie her hair into a bun in a fury of movements. However his words, the tone, the reaction, Dennis did not seem to be the type of person to merge with other higher ups out of his own enjoyment. Rather, he seemed to be the type of man to aim for something higher, through dangerous means or not. This was a gamble.
"Yep." On the Goddess, there was a total of two levels of cannon deck. The first level, was connected to the main deck that led to various rooms of the ship. The one cabin where she needed to rush to was on that level. Being that sailors were prone to injuries, the location of the infirmary had to be built close enough to easily treat bleeding men, however, at a location that could not necessarily be attacked in the line of fire. Her boots made the lightest of creaks against the wooden ground as she hurried to her destination. Hearing the sudden sound of men, Byulyi tensed up, taking refuge behind crates and equipments scattered around before continuing to head on after picking up Dennis' bellow. A drama queen, she thought, scowling before entering the first set of doors.
Her mind, set on autopilot, remembered the all-too-familiar doors and exact lengths of the rooms and she agilely dodged sailors knocked out on the floors.
It didn't take long for Byulyi to reach the infirmary. Her arm reached out, fingers almost touching the handle of the door, but was stopped by a big, rough hand that gripped onto her forearm. She looked up alarmingly only to breathe in a waft of booze and look into the heavily lidded eyes of a very, very drunken sailor. She recognized him as a newcomer, only arriving months prior. He was naive in that he hadn't tasted the ferocity of war not had blood, other than his own and fellow mates, on his hand. It made him arrogant and therefore always prone to yelling out ist phrases whenever she walked out onto the deck. "Hey miss doctor, I didn't see you tonight where were you?" His words came out in drunken slurs and she glowered at him, then at his hand that seemed to tighten when Byulyi attempted to escape. "I hadn't touched a woman in so long." She could feel his nails digging into her skin and he approached closer, his breathe making her grimace in disgust.
"Let go of me," comes the harsh whisper but is only replied with a laugh. She widened her eyes as she frantically looked behind her, hoping that she was far enough from the main deck. She struggled in his grip again as he pulled her closer, his other hand wrapping around her waist and moving down roughly. "You piece of ," Byulyi growled before using her free hand to reach down to her belt, drawing the axe she had taken earlier and swinging it with enough force to connect with his temple. His gripped around her loosen as he fell onto the ground with a thud. She breathed heavily, her fist clenching as she attempted to calm down. She would kill him if he was worth wasting time on.
Byulyi snapped back, shoving the man's arm that was blocking the opening of the door away with her foot before entering the infirmary. Having to had already used too much time with the drunken sailor, she walked with long, decisive steps to the corner where she left the ceramic pot. It was heavily, not heavily to the point of being unable to carry it but there was a reason for concern in the near future. As expected, there were extra pieces of wood in the pot, thick enough to start or continue a fire. Now for the last material for the wild fire.
@Teru [Apologies for attacking your ship/ one of your ships. We did a dice roll where each number corresponds to a fchange of plot direction or a change of scene, and number 6 happens to be code-red. LOL.]
@Moon Byulyi "Very well," Dennis patted his filthy shirt and fixed his sleeves, as if it would help his appearance, but such manner was a routine to conjure a Machiavellian persona— a different one from the time he entered the ship because law-abiding personnel usually take less effort to bribe. He turned Byulyi, asking himself if getting her as an ally would be worth the investment. But then, she gave him something that would last more than his riches: a tiny shard of perspective. "I'll try my best not to let anyone enter the lower deck and the dining area. I can pacify most of them, but if Jarrod gives orders to one of his men to make rounds in the ship, I'm sure you can handle that yourself?"
"If I die, I wouldn't be a very good hostage." He cracked a tiny smile, tucking blunderbuss in his waist belt before covering it with his shirt. "See you later, Moon Byulyi."
Dennis listened to the loud thud above him. They must have arrived on the main deck. Fortunately for him, their uneven footsteps weren't as erratic—meaning: there were approximately 5 of them including Sir Jarrod. Dennis hurried to the main deck, emerging behind the team. "You almost got me killed!" He roared.
"Lord Dennis—what are you—what do you mean?" One of them turned around, frowning when Dennis approached. "You smell of rum, m'lord. And no guards with you?"
"Rapport, my good man." He sneered, "How would you expect for them to react if I brought my brigade with me. Of course, you fools wouldn't comprehend that because all you can do is kill mindlessly."
"Ah, M'lord!" A man emerged from behind, carrying the largest sword. They had the same height but Jarrod had a bigger build. His beard was neatly trimmed; clean but it made him more intimidating. "The high court never said anything about sending you to the pirates prior to our arrival."
Dennis was taken aback, but he held his guard. "The court knew better than to publicize my visit." He lied. No one knew he was visiting, but he needed to find an excuse. "They never told me that you were coming. Are we taking orders from two different superiors? Either way, those pirates could have killed me and—"
"What are you doing here anyway?" Jarrod narrowed his eyes, "And it's surprisingly quiet for a pirate ship. What did you do to those rats? I'm surprised since you're all by yourself. Did they kill your guards?"
One of Jarrod's men was about to head for the lower deck until Dennis spoke, "I will tell you under one condition. Everyone stays here in the upper deck. I have everything under control and I will not let you destroy what I worked hard for." Dennis made sure he showed higher authority. Most of what he said were half-lies since half-lies are more confusing. He never really liked the navy since they laughed at his ideas for thermal weapons. "If you please..."
Jarrod snapped his fingers, and all of his men went behind him. "Done. Now, speak."
