Pirates of the Hard Nox [Open]

Each wooden door had to be at least two or three times taller than Alys, ornate with beautifully carved accents. Yet their colouring was dark, the build-up of dust and cobwebs muting the tiniest of details. She'd run a fingertip over the edge of the first door, collecting grime, and wondering how long it'd been since it was last cleaned - how long since the rooms beyond had been used. The fae didn't wait to open the door, or the second, or third... 

Bedrooms, offices, even a library - and by the sixth door, Alys wondered how anyone could need all this... stuff. Perhaps if it were hers, she'd have a different opinion. 

The sixth door, or what laid behind it, would serve her nicely - she'd decided. Or forced to decide, as the echo of distant footsteps finally reached her ears. Turning, arms crossed against her chest, Alys waited just outside the doorway for him to arrive. Taking his sweet time. Once he was close enough, with the strange dark blue colouring of the glass city basking their features, she spoke. "You've got a little something..." Uncrossing her arms, she raised a finger to her own nose, tapping it lightly and dragging it down the slight slope. Of course, hers was perfectly untouched, free from bruising - whereas his...? Amongst the playfulness, a flash of regret crossed her features, and before he could comment on it, she turned and took a couple steps into the room. 

It was as if a mask fell upon Emryk when he looked down to Leo. Rage still hardened the edges of his gaze, but his tone was even and calm. Perhaps it had been imagined; that aura that seemed to fade almost instantly. Maybe he just knew how to bottle it inside. Leo had only recently learned that was even a possibility, and so far it had become an extremely vital ability.

Caleb stepped into the center of the room, worn and weary with a speech that Leo didn’t quite get the point of. There was a heaviness in the air, like an expectation that would never be met. It was stronger than disappointment, though, nameless to Leo but cloying as it pressed in from all sides, even from behind as Emer slipped over for the speech. Leo began quietly slipping away, hugging the wall as soon as soon as it was in reach. Emryk spoke in rousing tones and complicated words, though only half of it reached his ears before he found what he was looking for. Emryk said something of the Captain, Leo’s focus too diverted to make sense of the words, and a soft click preluded the sound of Lucien’s excessive suggestion taking.

Of course none of the others thought to look for such things; they had never lived as a slave in to the rich and the powerful nobles. Slaves were not to be seen or heard, like furniture they were to perform their functions behind the scenes. One couldn’t simply walk through a door with bucket and soap without attracting attention, or walk the halls moving from room to room without eventually being seen. Servants had their own paths, behind stone and mortar and tucked away latches to tiny disguised doors.

Though the hallways were far more cramped than they had been when he was a child, Leo wound through them with steps that couldn’t be forgotten, soft and fearful of their tiny echoes that an attentive master might hear. The strangeness of the crystal walls only made it that much unsettling, somehow merging the pain and terror of those early years with the sting of his powerlessness against a diamond beast. Powerless, no matter what he wished, no matter what he tried. His sword was hardly better than his hands but for the dignity of it, the idea of recasting himself as man instead of monster.

But monsters are powerful.

The thought came unbidden as he squeezed into the common chamber where the slaves would sleep in shifts, old rotting blankets still laid out upon the bare floor. In that moment the day’s exertions caught up with him, the cold in his bones and the ache in his joints; the weariness of muscles expended to nearly their limit. He wasn’t used to such prolonged activity. With a sigh he slid to the floor, boot scuffing against a blanket covered something that scraped as it slid.

It was as if someone had shaped the walls of the mansion to fit their arm, molded crystal flaring and flowing into a shield that was surprisingly light despite its composition. After he had peeled away the last of the decaying fibers that covered it and blown the dust from its polished surface Leo wondered briefly how it had come to be hidden with the slaves. Regardless off its how, Leo admired the prismatic refractions thoughtfully. Emryk’s words, those that he had said in response to Leo’s concern, were right. They were in pretty bad shape, though no worse than their first encounter with King’s crew. There was that same air, though. A sense of something missing, that heaviness that had pushed him from the room and emanated from so many people. It was the same feeling, like when the Hard Nox lost Soren.

Where was the Captain?

"Or I need to stop going insane," , Alys responded in a murmur, opting to complete a sweep of the room first, barely restraining herself from flopping down on the bed like Caleb. Slowly she walked, massive sword still in her hand, making sure to check behind the heavy, deep red curtains, creaking open the oversized wardrobe, stopping only as she passed the elegant vanity.

She looked awful . Felt it too. Gingerly, the fae shrugged off her outermost layer, still damp from the snow, letting it fall to a heap of dried blood and grime that had only made her feel dirty. Knowing he was looking, she met his gaze in the mirror. "I really am, sorry. Again." The second layer fell too, leaving her in her tunic; white apart from the dried reddish-orange stain on her side. She'd take her chances with potentially moth-eaten blankets.

Leaving more than enough space between them, she laid down on her back, propping the sword against the side of the bed. Her hand instinctively rested against her bandaged side, eyes flicking up to stare at the canopy. "Where do you want to start? She whispered.

The offer to sit by the fire and wait for someone else to do the hard work of finding enough for them to live off of was sorely tempting. Juniper felt their whole body ache at the idea of sitting next to the warmth, resting, perhaps even taking a moment to sleep, but the feeling in the manor was still nagging at them. As nice as the flame felt, and as tired as they were, something about staying in the manor felt vastly uncomfortable. It felt eerily similar to when they would lose control, the pressure slowly building, only noticed before it exploded. The explosion felt near, or perhaps it had already passed, but if they were a better judge of that, they wouldn't have become a pirate.

Clearly very tired, they shook their head anyways. "It's a large city, Baron. You and Emer can search one way, I can go the other." They hesitated a moment, looked to the already dwindling supplies, to the faces of the few left in the room, then back to Emryk. In a quieter voice, they continued, "I... don't really want to hang around in here anyways. Not... right now." They started for the door, passing the baron, fiddling with their cloak to secure it around their shoulders once more. "Last chance for someone to help."

Emer glanced up at Emryk's words, staring blankly at him for a moment while she processed them.

"I think I'd like -" to stay here and sleep. Yes, that certainly sounded like the nicest option. A long, hard sleep. She was quite tired, and quite cold, and likely needed her rest. But - no. The Baron had something he needed to say to her, and as nice as it was to simply spend time with him, it was also her duty to listen.

"I think I'd like that. Yes."

Juniper was set to search alone, splitting off from them. That did - not settle well with the wisewoman. Before she could open her mouth again to protest, however, the reckless young girl with the bow stepped forward, offering to go with her.

Small comforts.

"I'd rather us all stay near," she said, taking the offered apple from beck with a whispered thank you, dear between. "This is an unfamiliar place with unknown dangers. Going in separate ways feels foolish."

She slipped the apple in the folds of her shawl.

"Stay within a calling at all times, please."

It wasn't obvious if that was a request, a command, or a plea. Perhaps all three.

Emer followed after the Baron, giving him a muffled thanks as he draped the cloak around her shoulders. She placed one hand along the hem - partially to keep it solid on her shoulders, large as it was around her, and partially to draw herself further into the memory of the Baron's warmth. Settled, she leaned into him, quiet and wane in the chilly air as they walked across the lawn.

Her eyes flickered to him.

"Baron, if you chose this time to say you truly wish to leave, I would be remiss to not say the timing is quite terrible."

Her lip curled slightly - ever slightly - into a smile.

"But if you are to stay by my side, I doubt there is little you could tell me now that would have me feeling worse than I already am." She rest her head on his shoulder. "Please tell me."