Pirates of the Hard Nox [Open]

Sleep was not dreamless, though Nessa couldn’t remember what the dream had been when she opened her eyes. Din light filtered through the fabric of Lucien’s jacket, and with the exaggerated slowness of someone who would rather spend the day curled up in bed Nessa stretched her limbs out from her little bundle of cloth and out into the cold air of the bedroom she had found. She retreated back from the nip of the air, and simply remained with the warmth staring at the jacket. Why had Lucien given this to her? He never struck her as someone who particularly cared about others, beyond when their necks might be available to him.

Still, Delilah was it? The girl who planted lavender every year. That was… Nessa reached up and ran a finger along the cloak. He was someone too, before he became who he was, and Nessa couldn’t help but feel a touch of… kinship at that. Nessa released a breath, she could still smell that sweet metallic tang, and she took her breath in just a little deeper. It was time to get up, as little as she wished to, no doubt the rest of the crew would have need of her. Her mind made up, Nessa drew herself up to a sitting position, still under Lucien’s jacket, and drew her own cloak close. It would just be a little cold. Just a little. With a nod, she slid the jacket to her shoulders.

Maybe more than just a little.

The room was small, with a heavy bolt on the door, and the furniture within had not bared their years of solitude well. The bed she had found had probably bared it the best, but the sheets were chewed through and patches of down poked through tears. A closet door hung off a hinge (and the clothes within looked well rotted) and opposite the bed was a chest of drawers with a large dusty mirror on top. The chest seemed like the best thing to poke through first, so Nessa slid off the bed and made her way over. Her search didn’t come up with much of value, there was a diary she tucked away for later reading, clothes so thin by age that they practically crackled at her touch, and an old lockbox. It rattled when she lifted it, so Nessa slid a lockpick from her sleeve and made short work of the box’s meager defense.

It was a jewelry box, and Nessa sorted through its contents with a yawn, crusted blood crackingly on the side of her mouth. Some pieces were fine, others gemstones simply needed to be removed from their housing to be of much use. Worth adding to her bag at least—

Nessa paused. A clear stone sparkled at her, and Nessa plucked it up out of the chest. The stone was set into a band of gold, seemingly untouched by wear, and Nessa rolled it over in her hand. The band seemed just right for her own finger, and without a thought Nessa slipped it onto the ring finger of her right hand. For a moment Nessa could have sworn she saw a twist of red blossom in the clear stone but—

“Pffh!” Nessa squelched at that heavy taste of iron on her tongue. She scraped her tongue against her teeth as quickly scrubbed the dried blood from her lips. Oh that was awful, why did that taste so…

Nessa blinked. She swung open the door to the bedroom, old rusted chains beating heavy thuds into the wood, but she paid it little mind. Her feet made a light patter on the ground as she found herself hurrying towards the smell of smoke and food, her mouth watering as she went. She turned sharply into the kitchen sniffing at the air. It smelled so good. Why did it smell so good? Caleb and Juniper were by the fire, tending to something edible, but it did not seem like it was quite ready. So Nessa raised a hand in greeting as a different scent drew her attention. A part of an apple, no doubt left behind from the night before, its flesh gone brown from too long in the air. Still, Nessa picked it up and crunched down on it.

Be it the cold, the flesh was still firm and the skin crunched, and the taste so very sweet that she cried, large tears sliding down her cheeks.