the golden harp

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<<if turns() > 1>><<back "go back">><</if>> <<link "Romance Options" "RomanceOptions">><</link>> <<if ($(window).width() < 800) and ($(window).width() < $(window).height())>><<run UIBar.stow()>><</if>>

''The Charming Captain'' [[dev blog tag.|https://thegoldenharp.tumblr.com/tagged/lorcan-crowe]] ''The Kindly Quartermaster'' [[dev blog tag.|https://thegoldenharp.tumblr.com/tagged/robin-palgrave]] ''The Aloof Sailing Master'' [[dev blog tag.|https://thegoldenharp.tumblr.com/tagged/gray-fairfax]] ''The Curious Siren'' [[dev blog tag.|https://thegoldenharp.tumblr.com/tagged/lorelei-tgh]] You will meet them soon... ''The Rival Captain'' [[dev blog tag.|https://thegoldenharp.tumblr.com/tagged/grace-o%27rourke]] You will meet her soon... ''The Persistent Pursuer'' [[dev blog tag.|https://thegoldenharp.tumblr.com/tagged/anthony-meverell]] You will meet him soon... ''???'' [[dev blog tag.|https://thegoldenharp.tumblr.com/tagged/the-other]] You know not why they have chosen you, only that they haunt your every dream. <<back "Return">>

In your defence, it was never supposed to happen like this. It’s not //your// fault that the sanctioned transport vessels are all charging an arm and a leg for safe passage. Not that //anyone// can guarantee safe passage in the current climate – pirates rule the waves, despite the best efforts of Empire ships and mercenaries, and every day there are more stories of ships being plundered by ruthless crews of pirates, at best diverted from their purpose and at worst— //Well//. As for //your// purpose, you <<cycle "$motive">><<option "want to make your fortune." "fortune">><<option "want to see more of the world." "curiosity">><<option "want freedom from responsibility." "freedom">><<option "want to escape." "escape">><<option "want to find something that is missing." "searching">><<option "do not feel as if you should have to share that information.">><</cycle>> For such lofty aims, the beginnings are altogether a little <<link "humbler." "1.2">><<if $motive is "fortune">><<set $lorcan++>><<elseif $motive is "curiosity">><<set $gray++>><<elseif $motive is "freedom">><<set $grace++>><<elseif $motive is "escape">><<set $anthony++>><<elseif $motive is "searching">><<set $lorelei++>><<set $otherrel++>><</if>><</link>>

The hold of the galley is small as it is, a wealth of supplies on board to support the crew and its passengers on the long voyage. And the reason that you know that is because you have squeezed yourself in amongst the boxes. <<cycle "$height" autoselect>> <<option "You haven’t bothered trying to sit, and instead have laid prone behind some racks of weapons. (>6’3”)" "vtall">> <<option "The back of a series of heavy-looking crates isn’t ideal, but it’s the only way you’ll be able to fit still sitting down. (5’9”-6’2”)" "tall">> <<option "It was a little tight, but you managed to sit huddled behind some bundles of cloth. (5’5”-5’8”)" "average">> <<option "It’s almost upsetting how easily you fit crouched between the oaken wall and a support beam. (<5’4”)" "short">> ... <</cycle>> The floor is hard – but you have endured worse than this, and the <<if $motive is "fortune" >>fortune <<elseif $motive is "curiosity" >>experiences <<elseif $motive is "searching" >>adventure <<elseif $motive is "escape">>escape <<else>>freedom <</if>>this voyage promises fizzes in your veins, <<linkappend "making you feel—" t8n>> …wait, //weapons//? Despite your best efforts, <<if $height is "short">>and the lump you’ll get from hitting your head on the support beam, <<elseif $height is "average">>and the twinge in your back when you try to shimmy out from behind the bundles of cloth, <<elseif $height is "tall">>and the almighty lump you know you’ll have tomorrow after your head thunks back against the crates, <<else>>and the almighty lump you’ll get from hitting your head on said weapon rack, <</if>>sleep claims you before you can think more on it, pulling you [[down into darkened bliss.|1.3]]<</linkappend>>

When first you sink into sleep, the darkness is as comforting as ever, a blanket you can wrap around your hurts and cares. And yet— And yet it becomes clear, after a few blissful, timeless moments lingering in the void, that you are not alone. * <<link "“Hello?”" "1.4">><<set $onethree to "hello">><</link>> * <<link "“Who’s there?”" "1.4">><<set $onethree to "question">><</link>> * <<link "Say nothing." "1.4">><<set $onethree to "silent">><</link>>

<<if $onethree is "silent">>The silence lingers, stifling, smothering, until a voice rings out from the dark, polyphonous and melodic, reverberating in the dark. How sweet. Am I that stunning? * <<link "Stay silent - you're not stupid." "1.5">><<set $onefour to "silent">><<set $otherrel++>><</link>> * <<link "Stay silent - the voice has all but paralysed you, and not just from fear. ♡;" "1.5">><<set $onefour to "silent">><<set $otherrom++>><</link>> * <<link "“How would I know? I can’t see you.” (And that fact disquiets you)" "1.5">><<set $onefour to "silent">><</link>> * <<link "“How would I know? I can’t see you.” (You try to ignore the part of yourself that wants to) ♡;" "1.5">><<set $onefour to "silent">><<set $otherrom++>><</link>> <<else>>For a moment, there is silence. Nothingness ringing in your ears. But then a voice sounds out from the darkness, and it is polyphonous, echoing and reverberating in the darkness. Did your mother not tell you that you mustn’t speak with strangers? * <<link "“What do you want?”" "1.5">><<set $onefour to "question">><</link>> * <<link "“Why—What—”" "1.5">><<set $onefour to "confused">><</link>> * <<link "Stay silent." "1.5">><<set $onefour to "silent">><</link>> <</if>>

<<if $onefour is "question">>Why, just to talk. That’s all, sweetling. The voice is honeyed in your ear, sweet and cloying, and you are quite sure that it hides venom in its depths. * [[“About what?”|1.6]] * [[Stay silent.|1.6]] * <<link "“I—” (the voice is close, too close, and your mind cannot focus on anything else) ♡" "1.6">><<set $otherrom++>><</link>> <<elseif $onefour is "confused">>When next it comes, the voice sounds closer, almost cooing in your ear. Hush now, sweetling. It will all be over soon enough. * [[“What will?”|1.6]] * <<link "Stay silent." "1.6">><<set $otherrel++>><</link>> * <<link "“I—” (the voice is close, too close, and your mind cannot focus on anything else) ♡" "1.6">><<set $otherrom++>><</link>> <<elseif $onefour is "silent">>You let the silence drag on, and the voice waits expectantly. When you hear it next, you think the voice might be tinged with something that tastes like pride. Excellent. I adore it when you things are quick learners. //Things?// Mortals, sweetling. [[Oh.|1.6]]<<endif>>

<<if $otherrom gt 0>>Laughter, then, and you cannot tell in your disoriented state if it is genuine or mocking. Perhaps both, the sounds fading in and out until it dies in the cloying air of the dream. Oh, how //darling//. If only you knew. <</if>>Though your mind’s eye does not detect any other signs of a physical being in the dark, you can feel the presence move around you, until you are staring them in the eye, eyes of copper, turquoise, sunlight staring back at you. Remember this, sweetling. Everything has a consequence. <<linkappend "Everything." t8n>> Wake up, //wake up//, ''WAKE UP'', [[you have to—|1.7]]<</linkappend>>

Perhaps not unreasonably, the first thing you notice is the knife hovering just shy of the column of your throat. At another time, in other circumstances, you might be more able to focus on how pretty the hand clutching the blade is, long, deft fingers and smooth skin. As it is, your eyes follow the line of your assailant’s arm, tracing along the fine veins in strong-looking forearms and trailing along deep umber skin, until— Until your eyes meet theirs, warm, deep brown, and narrowed in a squint as their nose ring glints golden in the low light. The blade, still held close to your throat, is steel, cold and bright. Full, dark lips purse around a question, as if sucking a wasp. You get the impression that this was the last possible thing they needed. “State your business aboard the Golden Harp, stranger.” * <<link "Sit in stunned silence." "1.8">><<set $oneseven to "silence">><</link>> * <<link "Frown in confusion." "1.8">><<set $oneseven to "frowny">><</link>> * <<link "Nonononono (cw panic attack)" "1.8">><<set $oneseven to "panicattack">><</link>> * <<link "The stranger's proximity is the only thing you are registering." "1.8">><<set $robin++>><</link>>

<<if $oneseven is "silence">>All you can do is sit in stunned silence as the realisation comes, hitting you in waves that compound the sinking feeling in your stomach. The stranger looks at you, uncertain for a moment, before speaking slowly. “You are in the hold of the Golden Harp. Where were you supposed to be?” Their voice is low, though you think you detect a southern accent – a coastal connection not surprising given their presence on this ship, and there is something familiar about that that you cling to like a lifeline. It’s not like you have anything else to hold onto, as the ship sways under you. “The Jesp—” Speech fails you, and you start again. “The Jespersen’s passenger ship, I—” “The Jespersen’s passenger ship left from the eastern dock.” The stranger tells you gently, [[and sighs deeply.|1.9]] <<elseif $oneseven is "panicattack">>All you can do is feel the blood pound in your ears as the stranger’s words hit you in waves that compound the sinking feeling in your stomach. Your mouth is dry, bile rising in your throat and if you could speak you would say but— But the words will not come, sticking in your throat like thorns. The stranger’s eyes soften for a moment, and they move the knife away and lean away to give you room to breathe. //In. Out. In. Out.// You aren’t sure how long it takes, whether it takes moments or minutes, but eventually you feel able to meet their eyes. “Alright?” Their voice is quiet, washing over your senses like a balm, and you manage to nod, eyes flicking down to the knife at their belt. They move their loose-fitting shirt to [[cover the knife a little better.|1.9]] <<elseif $robin gte 1>>As your eyes flick over their features... * <<link "...you study their reactions closely." "1.9">><<set $oneeight to "studyreactions">><</link>> * <<link "...you let your tongue trace your lower lip. ♡" "1.9">><<set $robinrom++>><<set $oneeightflirt to "bold">><</link>> * <<link "...your mouth opens and closes for a few moments, and you can feel heat rise to your cheeks. ♡" "1.9">><<set $robinrom++>><<set $oneeightflirt to "shy">><</link>> * <<link "...you scowl, willing them to move back. You don't like being touched." "1.9">><<set $oneeight to "frowny">><<set $touch to "averse">><</link>> <<else>>No. No, that’s not right, you were //sure//— “No, I—this is the Jespersen’s passenger ship, I—” Your voice sounds weak, and you break off when your eyes find the dagger again. You //had// been in a rush to evade the harbour authorities. That you cannot deny. The stranger’s eyes narrow, and you are quite certain that they do not believe you. “Oh, //really//.” The sarcasm is cutting, full lips curled in something that might be a sneer on a harsher-looking face, though as the resulting silence lingers, drags, they seem to lose their [[resolve.|1.9]] <</if>>

<<if $oneeightflirt is "bold">>At the motion, they cock their head, and you think you see the corner of their mouth quirk before they compose themself. <<elseif $oneeightflirt is "shy">>If they see the flush on your cheeks, they have the good grace not to mention it. <<else>><</if>>“Regardless...” The stranger’s tone is kind, though warm brown eyes still trace over your features, as if trying to determine whether or not you are a threat. Eventually, they sigh and rub one hand over their face, fingers whispering over deep umber skin. “You'll have to come with me to see the captain.” * [[“W—what?”|1.9bis][$oneninecho to "1"]] * [[“No, I don't—”|1.9bis][$oneninecho to "2"]] * <<link "“Now, why the //fuck// would I do that?”" "1.9bis">><<set $oneninecho to "3">><</link>> * <<link "“Are they as good-looking as you?” ♡" "1.9bis">><<set $robinrom++>><<set $oneninecho to "4">><</link>> * [[You stay silent, still stunned by what you have heard.|1.9bis][$oneninecho to "5"]]

<<if $oneninecho is "1">>“W-what?” Your voice is tremulous, even to your own ears, and you feel your lower lip start to quiver. Whatever it is that they see in your face, the stranger’s tone turns gentle, as if approaching a wild animal. “That's it. We won't hurt you.” They hold out their hand to you. <<if $touch is "averse">>You flinch away and push yourself into a standing position, [[despite the aching in your muscles.|1.10]] <<else>>Even in your state of shock, you have no choice but to take it. [[(It's warm.)|1.10]]<</if>> <<elseif $oneninecho is "2">>“No, I don't-” Your protest is weak, half-formed, and it dies on your lips as the stranger looks at you sternly. “Come.” Their tone is gentle but firm as iron beneath the velvet, and when they hold their hand out to you, <<if $touch is "averse">>you flinch away and push yourself into a standing position, [[despite the aching in your muscles.|1.10]] <<else>>you know you have no choice but to take it. [[At least it’s warm|1.10]].<</if>> <<elseif $oneninecho is "3">>“Now, why the //fuck// would I do that?” You lean back as best you can, trying to project an air of nonchalance that you don't quite feel. The stranger isn't buying it. “Because I said so.” Warm brown eyes turn cold for a moment, and you’re stunned into silence. When they offer their hand again, you stare at it for a moment before <<if $touch is "averse">>standing of your own accord, despite the aching in your muscles.|1.10]] <<else>>taking it, [[trying to ignore the warmth that radiates from it.|1.10]]<</if>> <<elseif $oneninecho is "4">>“Are they as good-looking as you?” You let your lips round around the vowels, and you think you catch warm eyes flick down to track the movement, before flicking back up to study you. They are silent for a mere moment, before smirking slightly. “You can be the judge of that.” The stranger holds out their hand then and <<if $touch is "averse">>you smile politely [[before standing of your own accord.|1.10]] <<else>>you do not hesitate. It’s warm, like you expected, and [[the callouses are enough to make you shiver.|1.10]] <</if>> <<else>>The realisation that you are both on a pirate vessel and bound for who-the-//fuck//-knows where still paralyses you, and you stay silent, blood pounding in your ears. Eventually, the stranger sighs, and holds their hand out to you expectantly. “Let's go.” Their tone is gentle, but there's an undercurrent of frustration there that you don't think they intended for you to hear. <<if $touch is "averse">>You stand before they have a chance to offer you their hand, and you notice them [[smile understandingly and move half a step back.|1.10]] <<else>>You take their hand—as if you had a choice—and it's warmer than you expected, [[enough to make you flush|1.10]]. <</if>> <<endif>>

The ship is a-buzz, crew members flitting from bunk to bunk and station to station as they pull away from port, eager to escape the clutches of the naval officers that are no doubt hounding their every move. The stranger’s face is impassive, though when they speak, their words are tinged with pride. “Best crew a quartermaster could ask for.” The efficiency on display is impressive, each crew member diligently working at their post, and you cannot disagree with the boast, even as you retreat from the hustle and bustle into a small room. What you //can// do, however, is wonder what is to befall you. <<if def $motive>> (You regret now your desire for <<if $motive is "fortune">>wealth (or even financial security) – you would trade all the gold in the world for the comforts of home in this moment.) <<elseif $motive is "freedom">>freedom (or even a glimpse at it) – you have had your fill—almost more than one person can take.) <<elseif $motive is "curiosity">>new experiences – you have already had far too many, thank you //very// much.) <<elseif $motive is "searching">>adventure – though…this //does// fit the bill.) <<elseif $motive is "escape">>escape – "out of the frying pan and into the fire”, indeed.) <</if>> <</if>> At the centre of the room you now find yourself in, there is a desk piled high with ledgers and logs and, above all, //maps//. The lanterns have burned low, and a hush settles over the space, a far cry from the controlled chaos outside. “And how would you describe the captain?” If this ship is what you think—if your memory serves you— The captain of //The Golden Harp// is not someone you should tangle with lightly. (//Read all about it! Crew left stranded in shark-infested waters! Thousands stolen from merchants in the Americas! Brutal battle for dominance in the Atlantic leaves ships destroyed!//) Before you can turn tail and flee, a low chuckle resounds from behind a pile of ledgers, and when the man speaks, his voice is honey and thunder. [[“Ask me yourself, sweetheart.”|1.11]]

The man steps out from behind a stack of maps, a smirk firmly in place even as he remains in the shadows for a moment more. You can just about see him look over to the stranger next to you and nod to the door. “Thank you, Robin.” The man’s brogue is genial enough, but his smile is as sharp as the knife that had been at your throat, and he is clearly used to being obeyed. “I’ll stay, if you don’t mind.” The stranger’s—//Robin’s//—tone is just as genial, though a little more irreverent than you would have expected from a quartermaster towards their captain. Whatever you expected of captains (quick to order a punishment like walking the plank, perhaps, or maybe a casual beheading), the man in front of you does not, in fact, seem to mind. Tattooed arms corded with muscle are crossed over a barrel chest, the skin pale and streaked with old scars. The loose neckline of his shirt reveals a light dusting of chest hair as dark as his mane, and a golden amulet that he quickly hides upon your inspection. When you register his face, you realise with a jolt that he is more handsome than you expected, given the ghastly pictures of pirates in the broadsheets back home. A strong jawline that is only strengthened by ebony black stubble, and high cheekbones framing— Framing sea-blue eyes that have been examining you as intently as you have been studying him. * [[Stand your ground.|1.11.1]] * [[Stay silent.|1.11.2]] * [[Realise you’ve been holding your breath.|1.11.3]]

In for a penny, in for a pound. “What are //you// looking at?” You straighten up to your full height – <<if $height is "short">>it must seem ridiculous, given your short stature, but you refuse to back down. <<elseif $height is "average">>you’re not the shortest, but you can’t compare to him – or his bulk. <<elseif $height is "tall">>though you’re //technically// tall, the sheer bulk of the man and the aura of confidence he exudes both work together to make you think that you //might// not be that imposing. <<elseif $height is "vtall">>even though your height nearly brushes the wooden ceiling, there’s //something// about the man that makes you doubt you were all that imposing.<</if>> Indeed, the captain gives you a wolfish grin at that, and abruptly, you have the feeling of being prey. “You.” //Oh.// * [[Splutter in outrage.|1.12]] * [[You’re not sure you like being perceived like that.|1.12]] * <<link "Stand your ground." "1.12">><<set $lorcan++>><</link>> * <<link "You feel heat rise in your cheeks. ♡" "1.11.3">><<set $lorcanrom++>><</link>>

Your eyebrow raises even as you purse your lips, and for a moment you stare at each other, eyes tracing over each other’s faces. His nose is slightly crooked, most likely from a well-placed fist – but you are momentarily shocked at yourself for finding that the imperfection enhances his features rather than detracting from them. He purses his lips in turn as he studies you closely, and you get the impression that he isn’t quite sure what to make of you. * [[Scowl.|1.12]] * [[Try to smile.|1.12]] * <<link "Challenge him...or try, anyway." "1.12">><<set $lorcan++>><</link>> * <<link "Freeze and feel your cheeks heat. ♡" "1.11.3">><<set $lorcanrom++>><</link>>

You are hardly a child – you have had some flirtations, though some were one-sided, and all had fizzled out before they could spark an inferno. The inferno in your //cheeks//, however, rages on, and you //know// when you look at him that he knows. * [[Scowl in embarrassment.|1.12]] * <<link "Stay silent - your throat feels too dry to speak. ♡" "1.11.3.1">><<set $lorcanrom++>><</link>> * <<link "Recover and smirk. ♡" "1.11.3.2">><<set $lorcanrom++>><</link>>

For all his charm, there is a dangerous undercurrent lingering beneath the surface, something that warns //danger//— His eyes are hypnotic. You hadn’t noticed that before. When he approaches you, you resist the urge to step back, to try and create some distance so that— So— “I am Captain Lorcan Crowe – and under the conventions of Nassau, I place you under temporary arrest.” * [[“You can’t do that.”|1.13][$onetwelveresponse to "courage"]] * [[“What?”|1.13][$onetwelveresponse to "caution"]] * <<link "“W-what?”" "1.13">><<set $lorcan++>><<set $onetwelveresponse to "compromise">><</link>> * <<link "Spit in his face." "1.13">><<set $lorcan++>><<set $onetwelveresponse to "conviction">><</link>>

Mortifyingly, whatever demand or answer or anything you had hoped to give will not come, and instead the words stick in your throat, strangling around something that you are quite sure you have not experienced before. You’d remember embarrassment like this. Your cheeks flood with heat, and there is something almost destabilising about the rakish grin he flashes you then. You are off-kilter, off-//course//, [[and he knows it.|1.12]]

//This could be fun.// Did you not, after all, leave England to be free? You let your eyes trail over him, inspecting him as if he were //yours// to inspect, and what you find is more than pleasing enough. Thighs thick with muscle, bulging biceps and hands that for one mad moment you want to feel on you. Perhaps not //that// free. And all the while he allows your inspection with a knowing smirk, and you cannot help but [[hope that he likes what he sees.|1.12]]

<<if $onetwelveresponse is "courage">>You feel your jaw drop, and the words seem to scratch on their way out. “You can’t //do// that, I—” “I can, and I did.” The captain’s voice is calm, almost smug, and for one brief moment, you //hate// him. <<if $touch is "averse">>You flinch away from Robin before they can stretch out their hand to lead you away – and sensing you won’t have another choice, [[your shoulders sag as you follow them out. |1.14]]<<else>>As if on cue, Robin’s hand closes around your bicep, [[before leading you out of the captain’s study.|1.14]] <</if>> <<elseif $onetwelveresponse is "caution">>You feel your jaw drop, and for a moment you cannot //think//, let alone speak. “//What//?” The thought seems impossible and yet— <<if $touch is "averse">>And yet Robin moves toward you, though they’re careful not to touch, and you have no choice but to [[follow them out of the captain’s study.|1.14]]<<else>>And yet Robin’s hand has closed around your bicep, and they [[begin to lead you out of the captain’s study.|1.14]]<</if>> <<elseif $onetwelveresponse is "compromise">>So enraptured are you by the look in his eyes that you do not register what has been said for a few moments, eyes instead flicking down to follow the line of his lips. “W-what?” You curse the stammer, and yet when he smiles it is almost fond, even as he turns away and leaves you to Robin, <<if $touch is "averse">>who smiles gently as they gesture to the doorway, careful not to touch you [[even as you turn to try and catch one last glimpse of the captain.|1.14]]<<else>>who gently leads you away, [[even as you turn to try and catch one last glimpse of the captain.|1.14]]<</if>> <<elseif $onetwelveresponse is "conviction">> You have //more// than had enough of people underestimating you in your life, and there is something about the man in front of you doing the same that tastes foul in your mouth. So you get rid of the taste. By spitting in his face. And you aren’t sure that you want to give him any credit at the moment, but he stands his ground, barely pausing to wipe the spit from his eye before he smirks at you, a strange kind of respect blooming in his gaze. “Robin.” His lips try and fail to hide a smile as he orders his quartermaster forward, though you barely have time to examine the gesture before <<if $touch is "averse">>Robin gestures to the door [[with a small smile on their face.|1.14]]<<else>>[[you are led from the room.|1.14]]<</if>> <</if>>

<<if $touch is "averse">>Robin<<else>>Robin’s hand<</if>> remained gentle for the whole journey to your new accommodation, and though they would not be drawn on the details of your situation, you thought you saw a sympathetic pinch of their brow as they told you that the captain would make a decision on your fate “soon”. You think that “soon” was a week ago, and you have had no further contact with most of the crew. You think that the sailor—//pirate//, you’re a //prisoner// on a //pirate ship//—who brings your meals is genial enough, always humming some shanty or another underneath his breath, but beyond that— [[Beyond that, you are lost.|1.15]]

You happen to look up and see your reflection – and not to be blunt, but you look like shit. Your normally <<cycle "$haircolour" autoselect>> <<option "jet black" "jblack">> <<option "chocolate brown" "chbrown">> <<option "caramel brown" "cabrown">> <<option "auburn" "auburn">> <<option "flame red" "fred">> <<option "honey blond" "hblond">> <<option "ash blond" "ablond">> ... <</cycle>> hair, worn <<cycle "$hairstyle" autoselect>> <<option "waist length and straight" "waistst">> <<option "waist length and wavy" "waistwa">> <<option "waist length and curly" "waistcu">> <<option "shoulder length and straight" "shoulderst">> <<option "shoulder length and wavy" "shoulderwa">> <<option "shoulder length and curly" "shouldercu">> <<option "chin length and straight" "chinst">> <<option "chin length and wavy" "chinwa">> <<option "chin length and curly" "chincu">> <<option "short and straight" "shortst">> <<option "short and wavy" "shortwa">> <<option "short and curly" "shortcu">> ... <</cycle>>, is unkempt and tangled, and <<cycle "$eyecolour" autoselect>> <<option "almost black" "ablack">> <<option "stormy grey" "sgrey">> <<option "hazel" "hazel">> <<option "pale blue" "pblue">> <<option "deep blue" "dblue">> <<option "light brown" "lbrown">> <<option "deep brown" "dbrown">> <<option "pale grey" "pgrey">> <<option "forest green" "fgreen">> <<option "pale green" "pgreen">> ... <</cycle>> eyes are framed with dark circles. Your skin, normally <<cycle "$skincolour" autoselect>> <<option "warm black" "wblack">> <<option "dark brown" "dbrown">> <<option "golden-brown" "gbrown">> <<option "bronze beige" "bbeige">> <<option "olive beige" "obeige">> <<option "fair ivory" "ivory">> ... <</cycle>>, is almost greying, practically crying out for sunlight. You have always been <<cycle "$bodytype" autoselect>> <<option "plump" "plump">> <<option "curvy" "curvy">> <<option "narrow" "narrow">> <<option "soft" "soft">> <<option "slight" "slight">> <<option "scrawny" "scrawny">> … <</cycle>> - and though it is perhaps fanciful to think that you are wasting away, you //feel// as if you have barely eaten enough to sustain a child over the time you have been held without recourse to judge or jury. [[(Though, you grant that that is perhaps a little naïve.)|1.16]]

You answer the sharp knock at the door and a crew member you do not recognise looks at you with sympathy, before handing you sheafs of paper. “Go to the door at the end of this walkway when you’ve filled out the paperwork and talk to Gray Fairfax. They’ll get you set up.” After another sympathetic smile, they leave, closing the door firmly behind them. You look at the paperwork in your hand, before crossing to the small desk in your makeshift cell. The quill pen is smooth in your hand, and you fiddle with the feather as you look at the paperwork in more detail and fill it in. ''Crew application:'' <<textbox "$firstname" "First name">> <<textbox "$surname" "Surname">> Beneath the spaces to enter your names, you can choose how you would wish to be addressed: <<cycle "$they" autoselect>> <<option "they/them" "they">> <<option "she/her" "she">> <<option "xe/xir" "xe">> <<option "he/him" "he">> ... <</cycle>> When you have completed the paperwork, you push at your door experimentally and [[find that it is unlocked and unguarded.|1.17]]

<><<if $they is "they">><<set $their = "their"; $them = "them"; $theirs = "theirs"; $themself = "themself"; $theyre = "they're"; $They = "They"; $Their = "Their"; $Theyre = "They're"; $plural = true>> <<elseif $they is "she">><<set $their = "her"; $them = "her"; $theirs = "hers"; $themself = "herself"; $theyre = "she's"; $They = "She"; $Their = "Her"; $Theyre = "She's">> <<elseif $they is "he">><<set $their = "his"; $them = "him"; $theirs = "his"; $themself = "himself"; $theyre = "he's"; $They = "He"; $Their = "His"; $Theyre = "He's">> <<elseif $they is "xe">><<set $their = "xyr"; $them = "xem"; $theirs = "xyrs"; $themself = "xemself"; $theyre = "xe's"; $They = "Xe"; $Their = "Xyr"; $Theyre = "Xe's">><</if>> The corridor is narrow and short, and it isn’t long before <<if $height is "vtall">>you are almost bending over double to enter through the low door frame. <<elseif $height is "short">>even //you// find yourself bowing your head to squeeze under the low door frame. <<else>>you find yourself ducking under the low door frame.<</if>><> The person at the desk does not even look up at you when you enter, continuing to write, giving you the chance to survey the space. The room is small, but almost homely, with some scant but no less decadent soft furnishings in velvets and silks. What space is not taken up with portholes and draperies is taken up with detailed maps, some of land masses and others of sea routes, and the person in front of you seems intent on adding to their collection. In a stark contrast to the other members of the crew, they are wearing a richly-decorated waistcoat in a fine emerald brocade, tailored tight to a slender frame. Sandy-blond hair is tied in a velvet ribbon that almost matches the waistcoat, though the green is a little lighter, as if the velvet is in need of attention. After a while it becomes very clear that this //Gray// is actively ignoring you. * [[Demand their attention.|1.18][$oneseventeen to "demand"]] * [[Ask hesitantly.|1.18][$oneseventeen to "hesitant"]] * [[Clear your throat.|1.18][$oneseventeen to "clearthroat"]] * <<link "Stay silent a little longer." "1.18">><<set $gray to $gray +2>><<set $oneseventeen to "keepshtum">><</link>>

<<if $oneseventeen is "demand">>You have not been wasting away in a cabin for what may well be a week to be ignored now. “Excuse me.” The iron in your voice is enough to make their shoulders tense, and you feel a brief, fleeting flush of satisfaction at that. That small flush of warmth in your chest is extinguished when they slam their palm down on the desk, making you flinch before they whip their head around. Gray //is// undeniably good-looking, with high cheekbones and skin that has the appearance of burnished gold in the low lantern light. They look almost like a statue, flawless and delicate, though hazel eyes are dull with irritation. “What do you want.” Their voice sounds musical, almost, as if in other circumstances it would be an accompaniment for harp and pianoforte. As it is, the tone is flat with suppressed vexation. * [[Make your demand.|1.19][$oneeighteendemand to "demand"]] * <<link "Ask politely." "1.19">><<set $oneeighteendemand to "politeask">><<set $gray++>><</link>> * [[Silently hand over the papers.|1.19][$oneeighteendemand to "givesilently"]] * <<link "Offer to come back another time." "1.19">><<set $gray++>><<set $oneeighteendemand to "anothertime">><</link>> <<elseif $oneseventeen is "hesitant">>“Um—sorry, can you please—” Your voice is hesitant, and you grip the papers closer, as if they might be a lifeline in the middle of…of //whatever// ocean this is. With a beleaguered sigh, your supposed saviour turns to face you. Gray //is// undeniably good-looking, with high cheekbones and skin that has the appearance of burnished gold in the low lantern light. They look almost like a statue, flawless and delicate, though hazel eyes are dull with irritation. “What is it now?” Their voice sounds musical, almost, as if in other circumstances it would be an accompaniment for harp and pianoforte. As it is, the tone is flat with suppressed vexation. * <<link "Ask again politely." "1.19">><<set $gray++>><<set $oneeighteenhesitant to "askpolite">><</link>> * [[Ask again coldly.|1.19][$oneeighteenhesitant to "askcoldly"]] * [[Silently present them with the papers.|1.19][$oneeighteenhesitant to "silentlygive"]] <<elseif $oneseventeen is "clearthroat">>You wait for a few moments, to see if they will acknowledge your existence. When no such acknowledgement is forthcoming, you clear your throat quietly. //That// does the trick, and they write a few more words before turning to face you. Gray //is// undeniably good-looking, with high cheekbones and skin that has the appearance of burnished gold in the low lantern light. They look almost like a statue, flawless and delicate, though hazel eyes flare with mild irritation. “What?” Their voice sounds musical, almost, as if in other circumstances it would be an accompaniment for harp and pianoforte. As it is, the tone is dull, like tarnished silver. * <<link "Ask politely." "1.19">><<set $oneeighteenclearthroat to "askpolitely">><<set $gray++>><</link>> * [[Ask coldly.|1.19][$oneeighteenclearthroat to "askcoldly"]] * [[Hold out the paperwork expectantly.|1.19][$oneeighteenclearthroat to "brandishpaperwork"]] <<elseif $oneseventeen is "keepshtum">>They carry on writing, and once they finish their sentence, they place their quill back in the inkwell and turn to face you with something that might approach a smile were their brow not still furrowed. Gray //is// undeniably good-looking, with high cheekbones and skin that has the appearance of burnished gold in the low lantern light. They look almost like a statue, unmarred and delicate, though hazel eyes are dull with something you cannot quite parse. “How can I help you?” Their voice sounds musical, almost, as if in other circumstances it would be an accompaniment for harp and pianoforte. * <<link "Ask politely." "1.19">><<set $oneeighteenshtum to "askpolitely">><<set $gray++>><</link>> * [[Hand over the paperwork.|1.19][$oneeighteenshtum to "handover"]] <</if>>

<<if $oneeighteendemand is "demand">>“I need my paperwork filled in. Now.” Your voice is hard, even with the dryness that yet lingers in your throat, and you look intently at Gray as they snatch the paperwork from you, grumbling about how //Crowe can shove it up his arse and die//— After a few moments of furious scratching, they thrust the papers back at you. “There.” Apparently, you do not warrant full sentences, either. * <<link "Snatch them back. Two can play at that game. ♡" "1.19.1">><<set $grayrom++>><<set $onenineteen to "snatch">><</link>> * <<link "Take them back, try to smile. ♡" "1.19.1">><<set $grayrom++>><<set $onenineteen to "trysmile">><</link>> * [[Stammer an apology.|1.19.1][$onenineteen to "stammer"]] * [[No reaction.|1.19.1][$onenineteen to "nothing"]] <<elseif $oneeighteendemand is "politeask">>"Um—sorry, can you please—” Your voice is quiet in the face of their reaction, and your question trails off into nothing. Their mouth opens, full lips parted to launch into a tirade— Before they seem to fully register what you’ve said, and the fight seeps out of their slender frame. “Fine. Give them here.” When they take the paperwork from you, their hand is soft, and a little cool to the touch, <<if $touch is "averse">>[[and you flinch away, nearly ripping the paperwork as you withdraw.|1.20]]>><<else>>[[and you shiver when they return it to you a moment later.|1.20]]<</if>> <<elseif $oneeighteendemand is "givesilently">>Their reaction stuns you, and you can do little more than silently hand the papers over and <<if $touch is "averse">>flinch reflexively when their hand, smooth and cooler than you would have expected, brushes yours whisper-light. <<else>>shiver a little when their hand brushes yours, skin smooth and cooler than you were expecting.<</if>> Gray is silent as they take the papers from you <<if $touch is "averse">>– though the same cannot be said for you as a panicked almost-gasp rips from your throat as their fingers inch a //little// closer than you would have liked – <</if>> and you think they scowl slightly as they turn away. In a few moments, they have filled out the paperwork, and they return the paperwork with rather more force than was strictly necessary. “Here.” They bite the word out, [[as if it tastes foul.|1.20]] <<elseif $oneeighteendemand is "anothertime">>At the sight of maps and charcoal and a strangely weary look on their face, you feel a flash of guilt, and begin to back away. “Never mind, I’ll come back another time.” Hazel eyes widen a moment, as if in shock, before they reach for your papers, palm outstretched. “No, it’s—it’s fine, come here.” The fight that had tightened their shoulders seems to leave them, and you think they attempt an expression that may even be termed a smile [[when they return your paperwork.|1.20]] <<elseif $oneeighteenhesitant is "askpolite">>You clear your throat and try again, letting a smile flit across your lips as you hold out your paperwork. “Could you help me, please?” You even bat your eyelashes for good measure, voice honey-sweet. They seem taken off-guard by the gesture, and you smile wider at the sight of a little pink on unmarred cheeks. They have completed your paperwork in seconds, [[clearing their throat as they hand it back to you.|1.20]] <<elseif $oneeighteenhesitant is "askcoldly">>Having spent the last week in isolation, the irritation in Gray’s tone rankles, and you feel your lips twist in a scowl. “I need these papers signed.” Your voice strikes like a whip, and you think you see their lips purse as they look at you, then snatch the papers from your hands. When Gray hands your papers back, [[they crumple under the force of the motion.|1.20]] <<elseif $oneeighteenhesitant is "silentlygive">>Their reaction has taken you aback, and it takes you a moment to recall your purpose, thinking through a fog. Wordlessly, you hold out your papers to them, and they sigh wearily and take them from you. Were you bolder, you might ask why the //fuck// they seem to be doing something they obviously find so onerous. After a few moments of furious scratching, they return your papers to you [[with yet another sigh.|1.20]] <<elseif $oneeighteenclearthroat is "askpolitely">>You clear your throat and try again, letting a smile flit across your lips as you hold out your paperwork. “Could you help me, please?” The tone of your question seems to take them off guard, and you think you see their hand shake slightly as they take your paperwork from you. They have completed your paperwork in seconds, [[clearing their throat as they hand it back to you.|1.20]] <<elseif $oneeighteenclearthroat is "askcoldly">>Having spent the last week in isolation, the irritation in Gray’s tone rankles, and you feel your lips twist in a scowl. “I need these papers signed.” Your voice strikes like a whip, and you think you see their lips purse as they look at you, then snatch the papers from your hands. When Gray hands your papers back, [[they crumple under the force of the motion.|1.20]] <<elseif $oneeighteenclearthroat is "brandishpaperwork">>Wordlessly, you hold out your papers to them, and they sigh wearily and take them from you. Were you bolder, you might ask why the //fuck// they seem to be doing something they obviously find so onerous. After a few moments of furious scratching, [[they return your papers to you with yet another sigh.|1.20]] <<elseif $oneeighteenshtum is "askpolitely">>//Start as you mean to go on.// “Could you please help me?” Your voice is honeyed, and you think you see their cheeks darken a little as they turn away, clutching your paperwork close. After a few moments of furious scrawling, [[they hand your papers back to you.|1.20]] <<elseif $oneeighteenshtum is "handover">>Of all of the people you had expected to find on a ship like this, Gray hardly fits the mould. Stunned into silence, you can do little more than hand over your paperwork, watching a small, secret smile flit over their lips. Once they have finished furiously scratching at the paper, [[they hand your papers back to you.|1.20]] <</if>>

<<if $onenineteen is "snatch">><<if $touch is "averse">>In your haste, you misjudge the distance. And when you snatch your freshly-stamped papers back from Gray, your fingers touch and you flinch back, feeling something stutter-stall in your chest. A quick glance at them, honeyed cheeks flushed, tells you they felt something similar. Before you can say anything further, Gray whips around and [[composes themself within mere moments.|1.20]]<<else>>Your fingers touch when you snatch your freshly-stamped papers back from them, and you cannot help but take a sharp intake of breath as sparks skitter over your skin. A quick glance at them, honeyed cheeks flushed, tells you they felt something similar. Before you can say anything further, [[Gray whips around and composes themself within mere moments.|1.20]] <</if>> <<elseif $onenineteen is "trysmile">>You try to smile when you take your papers back, and you think you must manage //something//, because hazel eyes widen and flick away, tinged with [[something that you think might be guilt.|1.20]] <<elseif $onenineteen is "stammer">>You look away as soon as you can, and you do not see their reaction as you manage to choke out an apology. “I am sorry for troubling you.” Your words are quiet, though they seem to hang in the air for a few moments, like a noose around your neck. (If you are found on deck here, you may well experience that for real.) The silence lingers a little longer before they sigh and begin [[shuffling the things on their desk.|1.20]] <<elseif $onenineteen is "nothing">>You study the stranger in front of you, unsure what to make of their reaction (Crowe has seemed popular with the others, even Robin, but—). They study you just as intently, giving back your paperwork slowly as if they think sharp movements may [[make you rear up like a misbehaving pony.|1.20]] <</if>>

<<set $countergrayonetwenty to 0>> “Is that everything?” * <<if hasVisited("1.20.1")>>==Ask about the ship.==<<else>>[[Ask about the ship.|1.20.1][$countergrayonetwenty++]]<</if>> * <<if hasVisited("1.20.2")>>==Ask about them.==<<else>>[[Ask about them.|1.20.2][$countergrayonetwenty++]]<</if>> * <<if hasVisited("1.20.3")>>==Ask about Lorcan.==<<else>>[[Ask about Lorcan.|1.20.3][$countergrayonetwenty++]]<</if>> * <<if hasVisited("1.20.4")>>==Ask about Robin.==<<else>>[[Ask about Robin.|1.20.4][$countergrayonetwenty++]]<</if>> * <<link "Never mind." "1.20.5">><<if $countergrayonetwenty lte 2>><<set $gray++>><</if>><</link>>

“The Golden Harp is wanted in every port this side of the Atlantic. We’re headed to Lisboa, and after that—” They pause at that, lips twisting into a scowl. “Well, we’ll see. The joys of piracy.” They shake their head at that, before fixing you with a look. “Is there anything else?” <<if $counter is 3>>They look restlessly around the cabin, and you think that this may be the longest they have had to interact with someone in some time.<</if>> * <<if hasVisited("1.20.1")>>==Ask about the ship.==<<else>>[[Ask about the ship.|1.20.1][$countergrayonetwenty++]]<</if>> * <<if hasVisited("1.20.2")>>==Ask about them.==<<else>>[[Ask about them.|1.20.2][$countergrayonetwenty++]]<</if>> * <<if hasVisited("1.20.3")>>==Ask about Lorcan.==<<else>>[[Ask about Lorcan.|1.20.3][$countergrayonetwenty++]]<</if>> * <<if hasVisited("1.20.4")>>==Ask about Robin.==<<else>>[[Ask about Robin.|1.20.4][$countergrayonetwenty++]]<</if>> * <<link "Never mind." "1.20.5">><<if $countergrayonetwenty lte 2>><<set $gray++>><</if>><</link>>

“What about you?” Your voice is tentative, given their previous demeanour, and you have to stifle a laugh at the confusion on their face. “What do you mean, what about me?” Cocks their head as if they don’t understand the question, before looking at their maps with something that could be pride. “I’m the sailing master. I make sure we’re going the right way, among other things.” Now, //that// is underselling it. You know from the newspapers back home that sailing masters are a rare commodity, needing specialist education that families like yours could //never// hope to provide – and you cannot help but wonder what such a person is doing aboard a pirate ship. (By the look on their face, you think they might be wondering that, too.) “Is there anything else?” <<if $counter is 3>>They look restlessly around the cabin, and you think that this may be the longest they have had to interact with someone in some time.<</if>> * <<if hasVisited("1.20.1")>>==Ask about the ship.==<<else>>[[Ask about the ship.|1.20.1][$countergrayonetwenty++]]<</if>> * <<if hasVisited("1.20.2")>>==Ask about them.==<<else>>[[Ask about them.|1.20.2][$countergrayonetwenty++]]<</if>> * <<if hasVisited("1.20.3")>>==Ask about Lorcan.==<<else>>[[Ask about Lorcan.|1.20.3][$countergrayonetwenty++]]<</if>> * <<if hasVisited("1.20.4")>>==Ask about Robin.==<<else>>[[Ask about Robin.|1.20.4][$countergrayonetwenty++]]<</if>> * <<link "Never mind." "1.20.5">><<if $countergrayonetwenty lte 2>><<set $gray++>><</if>><</link>>

At the mention of the captain’s name, Gray’s countenance darkens and their eyes narrow dangerously. “You take good care – Lorcan Crowe cares about one thing and one thing only. Himself.” The viciousness in their voice stuns you into silence, even more than the realisation that this may be the most they have said to you in one breath. You can but nod, and sigh a little in relief when some of the tension leaves their shoulders. "Is there anything else?” <<if $counter is 3>>They look restlessly around the cabin, and you think that this may be the longest they have had to interact with someone in some time.<</if>> * <<if hasVisited("1.20.1")>>==Ask about the ship.==<<else>>[[Ask about the ship.|1.20.1][$countergrayonetwenty++]]<</if>> * <<if hasVisited("1.20.2")>>==Ask about them.==<<else>>[[Ask about them.|1.20.2][$countergrayonetwenty++]]<</if>> * <<if hasVisited("1.20.3")>>==Ask about Lorcan.==<<else>>[[Ask about Lorcan.|1.20.3][$countergrayonetwenty++]]<</if>> * <<if hasVisited("1.20.4")>>==Ask about Robin.==<<else>>[[Ask about Robin.|1.20.4][$countergrayonetwenty++]]<</if>> * <<link "Never mind." "1.20.5">><<if $countergrayonetwenty lte 2>><<set $gray++>><</if>><</link>>

Their features soften a little at the mention of Robin’s name, and you breathe a little easier. “Palgrave has been good to me. If you follow their advice, you’ll be alright.” You hardly have any other option, but you nod in agreement nonetheless, and you see their shoulders sag in something that might be relief, if only they would let it touch their eyes. “Is there anything else?” <<if $counter is 3>>They look restlessly around the cabin, and you think that this may be the longest they have had to interact with someone in some time.<</if>> * <<if hasVisited("1.20.1")>>==Ask about the ship.==<<else>>[[Ask about the ship.|1.20.1][$countergrayonetwenty++]]<</if>> * <<if hasVisited("1.20.2")>>==Ask about them.==<<else>>[[Ask about them.|1.20.2][$countergrayonetwenty++]]<</if>> * <<if hasVisited("1.20.3")>>==Ask about Lorcan.==<<else>>[[Ask about Lorcan.|1.20.3][$countergrayonetwenty++]]<</if>> * <<if hasVisited("1.20.4")>>==Ask about Robin.==<<else>>[[Ask about Robin.|1.20.4][$countergrayonetwenty++]]<</if>> * <<link "Never mind." "1.20.5">><<if $countergrayonetwenty lte 2>><<set $gray++>><</if>><</link>>

“I won’t trouble you any longer – I can work the rest out as I go along.” At your words, they seem visibly relieved, even flashing you a small smile – and even after that smile fades, you fancy you can still see it [[shimmer golden in the low light.|1.21]]

It appears that you have completed your paperwork just in the nick of time, as the cry goes up around the ship that the Golden Harp is coming into port. From what you can tell, it is tradition for all crew members who are not actively piloting the ship to go above deck, and you are swept along with the crowd<<if $touch is "averse">>, even as you try to avoid touching any of the crew.<<else>>.<</if>> When on deck, you squint into the sunshine as you see the Music Seminary come into view, and once again you are struck by the beauty of cities undiscovered. You look, and decide to join * <<link "the charming captain." "1.22">><<set $lorcan++, $lorcanrom++>><<set $onetwentyone to "lorcan">><</link>> * <<link "the kindly quartermaster." "1.22">><<set $robin++, $robinrom++>><<set $onetwentyone to "robin">><</link>> * <<link "the aloof sailing master." "1.22">><<set $gray++, $grayrom++>><<set $onetwentyone to "gray">><</link>>

<<if $onetwentyone is "lorcan">>Before you approach Lorcan, you study him for a few moments, watching the muscles in his back tense and flex as he leans over the rail to watch the approach to Lisboa. So intent is he on the city that he starts slightly when you stop next to him. “Oh. You. ” He seems surprised to see you, and you rather think he may have forgotten you were still on board. “Yes. Me.” Your voice is firm, to your credit, and he smiles slightly at you, eyes sparkling in the sunshine. “Ready?” [[You’re not sure you have a choice.|2.1]] <<elseif $onetwentyone is "robin">>You approach Robin, who has just finished confirming arrangements with crew members. “Hi!” They seem pleased to see you out and about, full lips curving into a dimpled smile at the sight of you. (It is strange, to have someone happy to see you. You think you might grow to like the feeling.) “What happens now?” You look at them, squinting slightly in the sunlight, and you are struck by how they seem to glow, burnished in the sun. “We don’t have to have a plan aboard a pirate ship, do we? That’s the point.” [[Yes, you suppose it is.|2.1]] <<elseif $onetwentyone is "gray">>Gray is purposefully removed from the rest of the crew, and you watch them for a moment before approaching. You watch how their eyes flutter shut as they feel the breeze on their skin, you watch the wind catch their hair, you watch— “It is typically considered rude to stare.” Unlike in the hold, there is no bite in their tone, and their features have smoothed out until they almost seem like a bronzed statue in the bright sunlight. “You look peaceful.” The observation leaves you almost against your will, and you freeze as Gray turns to you, a serene expression on their face as they close their eyes again. “I like it out here. And you?” [[You rather think you will have to learn to.|2.1]] <</if>>

As you step out onto the well-worn walkway, your eyes trace over the buildings in front of you. The dockyards make up a large part of the landscape of the town, and the clay roof tiles seem to stretch for miles, burnt orange under the punishing sun. Still, the sea breeze is merciful, at least, and you let your eyes flutter shut a moment, before opening them again to squint at the town. The streets spiral out from the docks like veins from a still-beating heart, pulsing with each step the inhabitants take, and there is something thrilling about being //here//, among all these people, after so long alone. (You are not simply thinking of your time aboard the ship.) Though, you //aren't// truly alone, are you? (You're not yet sure whether or not that's a good thing.) When you look to your left, you look with no small amount of fascination as Lorcan engages in what seems to be an elaborate ritual. He rolls his shoulders, the muscles bunching under the white linen, and runs careful fingers over the scars on his forearms, before cracking his knuckles. A small, smug smile lifts his lips when he sees you watching, before he stretches out a hand to you. “Come on. I need a drink.” * <<link "...fuck //off//." "2.2">><<set $lorcan++>><<set $twoone to "fuckoff">><</link>> * [[Look sceptical.|2.2][$twoone to "sceptical"]] * <<link "You're too flustered to speak. ♡" "2.2">><<set $lorcanrom++>><<set $twoone to "shyflirt">><</link>> * <<link "Point out the impropriety of it all. ♡" "2.2">><<set $lorcanrom++>><<set $twoone to "boldflirt">><</link>>

<<if $twoone is "fuckoff">>At his words, you cross your arms and scowl, squinting into the harsh sunlight. “Get fucked.” You’re impressed at how firm your voice is after days at sea – but even though Lorcan smiles at your candour, when he speaks again his voice has a sharp edge, the normally soft Irish brogue harsh along the vowels as he lowers his voice. A warning, just as snakes have their markings. “I wasn’t asking.” <<if $touch is "averse">>You avoid his outstretched hand with the ease of a practised dancer, [[instead gesturing that he should lead on.|2.3]] <<else>>With little other option, you take his hand, [[starting slightly when you realise how warm it is.|2.3]]<</if>> <<elseif $twoone is "sceptical">>You look sceptically at his outstretched hand, and your hesitation seems to frustrate him. “Come //on//. You need to stretch your legs and, //more// importantly, //I// need a drink.” His attempt at levity falls on deaf ears, though, and you hesitate still further, still not willing to trust him. (Does he know? Does he know the stories they tell children and adults alike about him? If he knows, does he care?) After a few more moments, he scowls and wheels away, gesticulating wildly. “Fine, stay here and starve. Do you even speak Portuguese?” * [[Yes, and several other languages besides.|2.2.1][$language to "multi"]] * [[I can speak enough to get by.|2.2.1][$language to "bit"]] * [[…no.|2.2.1][$language to "mono"]] <<elseif $twoone is "shyflirt">>You feel a furrow deepen between your eyebrows as he holds his hand out to you, palm outstretched. His eyes are not quite blue, you decide. More teal, perhaps. Though to notice that, you must have been looking into his eyes. For longer than is //strictly// appropriate. The thought makes you flush as you think of what the people at home might say. Lorcan, apparently tired of your indecision, opens his mouth to speak - then pauses, and seems to see your flush for the first time. “I don't bite, sweetheart." A wicked thought seems to occur to him then - though he seems to catch himself before he pursues that train of thought. “Come on. I'll show you the city." <<if $touch is "averse">>Despite the warmth behind the invitation, and the glow of warmth that seems to emanate from his hand, you instead avoid his outstretched hand with the ease of a practised dancer, [[gesturing for him to lead the way.|2.3]]<<else>>You take his hand, and your flush deepens still further at how his skin feels against yours, [[calloused and almost unnaturally warm.|2.3]] <</if>> <<elseif $twoone is "boldflirt">>“They warn people about this, you know.” You let your lips curve in what you hope is a sultry smile. By the look on his face, smug and almost irritatingly confident, you think you succeeded. “About what?” <<if $touch is "averse">>Though you avoid his outstretched hand, you let your smile widen. You’ll let him be the judge as to whether it’s enticement or threat. <<else>>You place your hand in his, feeling your pulse flutter despite yourself at the feel of his skin, calloused and almost unnaturally warm. <</if>> “Going for drinks with people like you.” He gives you a wolfish grin, and your stomach flips. “They should.” You smile slightly at the thought, [[even as you follow him into the city.|2.3]] <</if>>

Despite his stockier build, Lorcan’s strides are long, and before much longer he is dragging you through the twists and turns of narrow, cobbled streets. You are thoroughly disoriented by the time the pair of you <<if $height is "vtall" or $height is "tall">>duck under the doorway of the tavern <<else>>make it to the tavern <</if>>and [[survey the interior.|2.4]]

<<if $language is "multi">>Your answer seems to shock him, and he appraises you with something that might be appreciation. “That’s as may be, but the locals are hardly going to take well to a lone, grubby stowaway, are they?” Rude though the observation is, [[you can’t really argue with it.|2.3]] <<elseif $language is "bit">>He eyes you sceptically, though after a moment he seems to decide that you’re not full of shit. How //generous// of him. “That’s as may be, but the locals are hardly going to take well to a lone, grubby stowaway, are they? Rude though the observation is, [[you can’t really argue with it.|2.3]] <<elseif $language is "mono">>Lorcan gives a hearty laugh at your answer, before gesturing for you to follow him. “I can speak enough for the both of us.” [[You don’t suppose you really have a choice.|2.3]] <</if>>

The tavern is a refuge from the burning heat outside, with low beams, dark wood furnishings and only the barest amount of lantern light to guide you. Your eyes take a few moments to adjust when you step out of the glaring sunshine. The wooden benches inside are well-worn, the wood smooth against your fingers as you sit down. A hand signal from Lorcan summons two pints of weak ale to your table - the safest bet in a tavern like this, you'd be willing to wager. Once the server has left the pair of you alone, you take a moment to study Lorcan's profile, roman nose only slightly crooked and jaw line sharp as crystal. You //also// study the way everyone //else// looks at him with barely veiled suspicion. If he's noticed their glares, he's very good at not letting on. “What.” The word is flat, barely a question, even as his eyes sparkle when he looks at you. * [[Be tactful.|2.5][$twofour to "tactful"]] * [[Be blunt.|2.5][$twofour to "blunt"]]

<<if $twofour is "tactful">>“Have you been to the city before?” You venture, smile soft as you try to coax the answer out of him, like coaxing your father's cat from underneath the bed. Lorcan, fittingly enough, smiles like the cat who got the cream, and has the audacity to wink at one of the other patrons, affecting not to notice the way the man's eyes narrow. “Many times.” * [[Push him further.|2.5.1][$twofive to "tactfulpush"]] * <<link "Let it go." "2.6">><<set $lorcan++>><</link>> <<else>>“What did you do to make them look at you like //that//?” You cannot keep the curiosity out of your tone - though while most men at home seemed to enjoy being asked questions, Lorcan seems to freeze, shoulders stiff even as he casts his eyes over the other patrons, finally acknowledging their barely suppressed fits of pique. When he smiles at you, it is hard as steel. “Lots of things.” * [[Push him gently.|2.5.1][$twofive to "bluntpush"]] * <<link "Let it go." "2.6">><<set $lorcan++>><</link>> <</if>>

<<if $twofive is "tactfulpush">>“And?” You cannot help the way the pitch of your voice climbs with frustration, even as he sighs and turns to face you. “And //what//?” Lips pursed as his exasperation bubbles to the surface, he looks you in the eye, unwilling to give an inch. “And what //happened//?” The thought niggles somewhere in the back of your mind that //you should know// but he does not seem obliged to tell you. He sits back, lips pursed tightly enough that he looks as if he is sucking a wasp. “Many things.” * <<link "Push again." "2.5.2">><<set $lorcan -=1>><</link>> * [[Let it go.|2.6]] <<elseif $twofive is "bluntpush">>"Professional things or personal things?” Some of the looks being thrown his way seem more pointed than simply business disputes among peers, and the mischief in his eyes when he looks back at them only confirms your suspicions. “Both.” Lips that are almost rosy twist in a smirk at the memories, though his eyes are still hard as he looks at you. You don’t think there’s much mileage in [[continuing your line of questioning.|2.6]] <</if>>

The silence you settle into is by no means //easy//, but it becomes companionable enough as you continue to study the other patrons. “Ignore them.” Lorcan’s tone is light, but his eyes dart around just as much as yours do. <<if $language is "mono">>You don’t have to know what the other drinkers are saying to know that they do not trust you, and looking at your drinking companion, you're starting to think they may have good reason. <<elseif $language is "bit">>You hear snatches of conversation, and from the words being thrown around (//traitor//, //agreement//, //swine//), you are quite sure that Lorcan Crowe is //persona non grata// in this establishment. <<elseif $language is "multi">>You hear snatches of conversation, and from the words being thrown around (//traitor//, //agreement//, //swine//), you are quite sure that Lorcan Crowe is //persona non grata// in this establishment. <<else>><<cycle "$language" autoselect>> <<option "You honestly aren’t sure about what is being said, only that you are being looked at with suspicion by the patrons - perhaps with good reason." "mono">> <<option "You catch small snippets of conversation, and what you don’t understand outright you can fill in the gaps with body language - Lorcan Crowe is not welcome here." "bit">> <<option "It’s very clear from the conversations that reach you (//traitor//, //swine//, //payback//) that you are not welcome here, and you start looking around for an exit." "multi">> ... <</cycle>> <</if>> With a start, you realise that they are racketeers, or fences, or smugglers, or even— Or //even//, as you see the odd bloodstained jerkin, //murderers//. It does not help your stress levels to realise that Lorcan has abandoned you, [[leaving a single gold coin on the table next to you.|2.7]]

“Such as //what//?" Mere curiosity has spiralled into panic, and you feel yourself sinking into the whirlpool opening up beneath your feet. “I need to know what I’m—” “The way I see it, //sweetheart//,” and the endearment comes in more of a sneer, teeth bared in a snarl, “you //need// to keep your nose out of places it doesn’t belong.” Sea blue eyes are cold as arctic winds as he looks away from you, and you think you see the muscle in his jaw feather. //He’s scared.// The thought comes unbidden, and [[the realisation is sudden enough that it feels heaven-sent.|2.6]]

The innkeeper speaks up, then, closer than you had expected, and you nearly jump out of your skin. When they look at you, their smile is kind, though their eyes flit around the room, tracking the movements of their patrons. <<if $language is "multi">>Their voice is low, calm even as they stay watchful. “You should leave,” the entirely expected warning comes, “because a friend of Crowe is no friend of anyone here.” You think //you// would be able to tell //them// that— And then you think better of it. <<elseif $language is "bit">>Their voice is low and calm, even as they stay watchful – and though you don’t understand every word, you understand enough to catch “//leave//”, “//Crowe//” and “//no friend//”. No //shit//. <<elseif $language is "mono">>Their voice is low and calm, and if you understood any of it you might be reassured. As it is, your stare stays resolutely blank, until they point emphatically at the door. //Ah//. Right, then. <</if>> You slip out of the door and into the side street [[before you can be followed.|2.8]]

You retrace your steps for a few streets, winding away from the tavern until you feel like you’ve put enough distance between you and Lorcan’s apparent enemies to be able to breathe a little more easily. As you lean against the stone wall of a nearby building, you start to think that you may have been abandoned here. If you //had// to fend for yourself, your strongest skill would be <<cycle "$strength" autoselect>> <<option "your physical endurance and combat skills" "combat">> <<option "your sharp mind and ability to decode dense manuscripts" "research">> <<option "your skills in map-reading and your understanding of the heavens" "navigation">> <<option "your knowledge of ancient religions and the mystical arts" "mysticism">> ... <</cycle>>, [[without a shadow of a doubt.|2.8.1]]

<<if ndef $countertwoninecity>><<set $countertwoninecity to 0>>Though, now that you //have// been fairly solidly abandoned, you have some time to explore the city before sundown.<</if>> <<if $countertwoninecity is 0>>You have a lot of time left. <<elseif $countertwoninecity is 1>>You have a fair amount of time left. <<elseif $countertwoninecity is 2>>You still have some time left. <<elseif $countertwoninecity is 3>>You barely have any time left. <</if>> * <<if hasVisited("2.10 robin")>>==You can hear the haggling in the market from here.==<<else>>[[You can hear the haggling in the market from here.|2.10 robin][$countertwoninecity++]]<</if>> * <<if hasVisited("2.10 combat")>>==You are tempted by the dark alley, from where grunts and jeers of fighting emanate.==<<else>><<link "You are tempted by the dark alley, from where grunts and jeers of fighting emanate." "2.10 combat">><<set $countertwoninecity++>><<if $strength is "combat">><<set $combat to $combat +3>><<elseif $secondary is "combat">><<set $combat to $combat +2.4>><<elseif $weakness is "combat">><<set $combat to $combat +1.6>><<else>><<set $combat to $combat +2>><</if>><</link>><</if>> * <<if hasVisited("2.10 tavern")>>==You can see and smell the attractions of the centre of town.==<<else>><<link "You can see and smell the attractions of the centre of town." "2.10 tavern">><<set $countertwoninecity++>><<if $strength is "research">><<set $research to $research +3>> <<elseif $secondary is "research">><<set $research to $research +2.4>> <<elseif $weakness is "research">><<set $research to $research +1.6>> <<else>><<set $research to $research +2>><</if>><</link>><</if>> * <<if hasVisited("2.10 mysticism")>>==You catch a glimpse of a mysterious looking man, dressed simply in white linen robes with a wide hood.==<<else>><<link "You catch a glimpse of a mysterious looking man, dressed simply in white linen robes with a wide hood." "2.10 mysticism">><<set $countertwoninecity++>><<if $strength is "mysticism">><<set $mysticism to $mysticism +3>><<elseif $secondary is "mysticism">><<set $mysticism to $mysticism +2.4>><<elseif $weakness is "mysticism">><<set $mysticism to $mysticism +1.6>><<else>><<set $mysticism to $mysticism +2>><</if>><</link>><</if>> * <<if hasVisited("2.10 ship")>>==A sudden, //aching// tiredness seizes every fibre of your being, and you think you had better try to head back to the ship.==<<else>>[[A sudden, aching tiredness seizes every fibre of your being, and you think you had better try to head back to the ship.|2.10 ship][$countertwoninecity++]]<</if>>

As you make your way towards the marketplace, you begin to notice the smells of spices from the Eastern trading routes and the sounds of beasts of burden being sold and taken by their new owners. When you leave the safety of the side street and step into the light, you are immediately hit with the cacophony of a busy market place, and you cast your mind back to Portsmouth. //You knew you had to leave. You have always known, deep down, but you have never been more sure.// //A part of you had doubts, thought you should confide in someone.// //But then, no one was really trustworthy, were they?// In light of very recent events, it gives you no pleasure to know that [[you were right all along.|2.10.1 robin]]

From the alley, you can hear a blizzard of grunts and jeers and howls, loud enough that you half expect to see city officials swarming the alleyway to apprehend the fighters, but— But no one comes, and you are drawn to the sounds as if by instinct. On the periphery of the skirmishes, you hear <<if $language is "multi">>Portuguese, Arabic, Greek, and other languages beside, <<elseif $language is "bit">>many languages, some of which you recognise, <<else>>a blur of sounds and words that you wish you could understand, <</if>>along with the sound of fists meeting skin and muffled groans. And when the current fighter, a burly man covered in nautical tattoos, looks about him for a challenger, you: * <<link "step forward, fancying your chances." "2.10.1 combatpartake">><<set $courage++>><<set $combat++>><<if $strength is "combat">><<set $combat to $combat +4.5>><<elseif $secondary is "combat">><<set $combat to $combat +3.6>><<elseif $weakness is "combat">><<set $combat to $combat +2.4>><<else>><<set $combat to $combat +3>><</if>><</link>> * <<link "hang back, more interested in picking up tips." "2.10.1 combatobserve">><<set $caution++>><<set $research++>><<if $strength is "combat">><<set $combat to $combat +1.5>><<elseif $secondary is "combat">><<set $combat to $combat +1.2>><<elseif $weakness is "combat">><<set $combat to $combat +0.8>><<else>><<set $combat to $combat +1>><</if>><<if $strength is "research">><<set $research to +3>><<elseif $secondary is "research">><<set $research to +2.4>> <<elseif $weakness is "research">><<set $research to +1.6>><<else>><<set $research to $research +2>><</if>><</link>>

There’s safety in numbers, you think, so you gravitate towards the sound of raucous laughter and drinking songs – to a tavern, more reputable than the //last// one you were in (although…perhaps that it not so hard), with the door propped open by a ruined gargoyle from a nearby church. <<if $height is "vtall" or "tall">>You duck under the doorway<<else>>You enter the tavern<</if>>and once more blink into the darkness, eyes adjusting to the dark. Inside, the wooden furnishings seem better cared-for, and already you feel far more welcome. (That //could// just be because you’re on your own.) There are some spare seats – though they seem to be as audience members for two storytellers, both regaling the clientele with tales from the sea. You choose to sit * <<link "near the man." "2.10.1 research">><<set $research++>><<if $strength is "research">><<set $research to $research +3>> <<elseif $secondary is "research">><<set $research to $research +2.4>> <<elseif $weakness is "research">><<set $research to $research +1.6>> <<else>><<set $research to $research +2>> <</if>><</link>> * <<link "near the woman." "2.10.1 navigation">><<set $navigation ++>><<if $strength is "navigation">><<set $navigation to $navigation +3>> <<elseif $secondary is "navigation">><<set $navigation to $navigation +2.4>> <<elseif $weakness is "navigation">><<set $navigation to $navigation +1.6>> <<else>><<set $navigation to $navigation +2>> <</if>> <</link>>

<<silently>> <<if $strength is "mysticism">><<set $mysticism to $mysticism +3>> <<elseif $secondary is "mysticism">><<set $mysticism to $mysticism +2.4>> <<elseif $weakness is "mysticism">><<set $mysticism to $mysticism +1.6>> <<else>><<set $mysticism to $mysticism +2>><</if>><</silently>> Though the sights of the city are no doubt enticing enough, you are far more intrigued by a tall figure wrapped in white robes, mist swirling in smog, as they disappear down an alleyway. And it would be very easy to walk away. * ==So you do.== * [[But you don’t.|2.10.1 mysticism]]

The journey back to the docks seems interminable, even if you have not long run for your life. <<if hasVisited("2.10 mysticism")>>Twice.<</if>> Still a fan of the pirate’s life? In any case, you reach the ship with no further incidents, and you make for your room, hand braced against the soft wood grain of the narrow corridor for support— But you can hear humming coming from near Gray’s quarters, and the sound gives you pause. You: * <<link "investigate the noise." "2.10 gray">><<set $gray++>><</link>> * [[carry on to your room.|2.10 nap]]

You round the corner, and try to look as inconspicuous as you can, pausing every so often to look at produce and trinkets and wares. Judging by the wary looks of patrons and stall owners, you're not doing a particularly good job. You hear a voice behind you, and your shoulders raise about your ears until you hear them say your name. “Hey, $firstname!" When you turn to look at them, Robin looks more at ease than you have ever seen them, a bundle of supplies under one well-muscled arm as they secure the edge of their hair wrap with their free hand. * <<link "Sigh in relief." "2.10.2 robin">><<set $robin++>><<set $twotenonerob to "relief">><</link>> * <<link "Reach out to touch their bicep. ♡" "2.10.2 robin">><<set $robinrom++>><<set $twotenonerob to "bicep">><</link>> * <<link "Feel your cheeks heat. ♡" "2.10.2 robin">><<set $robinrom++>><<set $twotenonerob to "cheeks">><</link>> * <<link "Scowl. You thought you were actually free." "2.10.2 robin">><<set $robin-->><<set $twotenonerob to "scowl">><</link>>

<<if $twotenonerob is "relief">> Your shoulders sag with relief as you sigh, and you smile gratefully at Robin. “Am I glad to see you!" Your voice is a little breathier than you'd like, but they smile just as broadly as you, teeth gleaming in the summer sun. “Are you ok?” Their eyes drift over your features as if to reassure themself, and they relax at your answering smile and nod. Then, confusion spreads over their face and a furrow appears on their brow. “What are you doing here? I thought you were with Lorcan." And like that, your good mood dissipates like morning mist. * <<link "Be charitable." "2.10.3 robin">><<set $twotentworob to "charitable">><<set $robin++, $lorcan++>><</link>> * <<link "Be as honest as you can." "2.10.3 robin">><<set $twotentworob to "unvarnished">><<set $robin++>><</link>> * <<link "Be...petty." "2.10.3 robin">><<set $twotentworob to "petty">><<set $lorcan++>><</link>> <<elseif $twotenonerob is "bicep">>“It’s good to see you,” you smile broadly, letting the very tips of your fingers trail feather-light over their bicep, feeling the muscles tense under your touch. The bundle in their arm slips slightly, and something in your lower belly twists at the sight of their tongue dart out to wet their lips as they adjust the parcels. They clear their throat, and you feel your lips curve into an innocent smile. “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you,” and the worst thing is, you believe them, “but what are you up to?” You take a moment to understand their meaning, caught up in looking at newly-wet lips under the burning sun but— //Lorcan//. And like that, your good mood dissipates like morning mist. * <<link "Be charitable." "2.10.3 robin">><<set $twotentworob to "charitable">><<set $robin++, $lorcan++>><</link>> * <<link "Be as honest as you can." "2.10.3 robin">><<set $twotentworob to "unvarnished">><<set $robin++>><</link>> * <<link "Be...petty." "2.10.3 robin">><<set $twotentworob to "petty">><<set $lorcan++>><</link>> <<elseif $twotenonerob is "cheeks">>Your cheeks burn (from the sun’s heat beating down on both of you, surely), and you worry for a moment that they’ll be able to feel the heat radiating from you. You //do//, to your credit, //try// to speak to them, to greet them like a normal person – but your throat is unspeakably dry, and your mouth does nothing more than open and close uselessly for a moment. “Are you well?” They ask, a concerned furrow appearing on their brow as they move closer to you, looking at you carefully. So, you try again. “I—” Better, but the words still do not come, and eventually they take pity on you. “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you,” and the worst thing is, you believe them, "but what are you doing here?” Oh, right. Lorcan. And like that, your stammering dissipates like morning mist. * <<link "Be charitable." "2.10.3 robin">><<set $twotentworob to "charitable">><<set $robin++, $lorcan++>><</link>> * <<link "Be as honest as you can." "2.10.3 robin">><<set $twotentworob to "unvarnished">><<set $robin++>><</link>> * <<link "Be...petty." "2.10.3 robin">><<set $twotentworob to "petty">><<set $lorcan++>><</link>> <<elseif $twotenonerob is "scowl">>You feel your brow furrow and your jaw tense at the sight of them— That’s unfair – it’s not //them// specifically, but more what they represent. You’re not really sure what choice they think you’ve been given. Robin’s face, though, falls at your scowl, and they clear their throat uncomfortably to dispel the tension. And yet, even now they are concerned for you, head cocked thoughtfully to one side as they ask, “I figured you’d be with Lorcan – what happened?” //What, indeed.// * <<link "Be charitable." "2.10.3 robin">><<set $twotentworob to "charitable">><<set $robin++, $lorcan++>><</link>> * <<link "Be as honest as you can." "2.10.3 robin">><<set $twotentworob to "unvarnished">><<set $robin++>><</link>> * <<link "Be...petty." "2.10.3 robin">><<set $twotentworob to "petty">><<set $lorcan++>><</link>> <</if>>

<<if $twotentworob is "charitable">>“I’m sure he had other things to do,” you try to smile, though you worry that the expression has curdled on your face, somehow, as you consider the danger Lorcan put you in without seemingly giving you a second thought. //That// had been more what you would have expected from a pirate captain, rather than the display of charm when you first met. And you aren’t exactly reassured by the thorough lack of surprise on //Robin’s// features. Disappointment and disbelief, absolutely, but no eye-rolls over an undue lack of manners or decorum on Lorcan’s part. This is //expected//, and you were no more than potential collateral damage. “He’s family.” They’re //equally// charitable, a fond smile stretching over their features. * [[You can sympathise – before you left, family was the most important thing to you, too.|2.10.4 robin][$family to "vstrong"]] * [[You think you can sympathise – your family was important to you, even though they didn’t play the biggest role in your actions.|2.10.4 robin][$family to "strong"]] * [[You wish you could sympathise, if only for the fondness in their tone – but your relationship with your family was never strong.|2.10.4 robin][$family to "weak"]] * [[The word means little to you – you left in part because of them, after all.|2.10.4 robin][$family to "vweak"]] <<elseif $twotentworob is "unvarnished">>You feel your lips twist into a scowl, and roll your eyes as you ask them, "Would //you// have left me alone in a tavern with people who openly hated your guts?” If you had any great skill with miniature painting, you would //love// to capture the look of disbelief, almost //horror// on Robin’s face— Though, you note, there’s no //surprise// in their reaction. “//No//, I would //not// have done that." Full lips purse, before they shrug slightly. “Lorcan is as he is. I cannot excuse him but—” They let out a long-suffering sigh before another shrug, this one a little fonder. “He //is// family. I wouldn’t change him.” * [[You can sympathise – before you left, family was the most important thing to you.|2.10.4 robin][$family to "vstrong"]] * [[You think you can sympathise – your family was important to you, even though they didn’t play the biggest role in your actions.|2.10.4 robin][$family to "strong"]] * [[You wish you could sympathise, if only for the fondness in their tone – but your relationship with your family was never strong.|2.10.4 robin][$family to "weak"]] * [[The word means little to you – you left in part because of them, after all.|2.10.4 robin][$family to "vweak"]] <<elseif $twotentworob is "petty">>"Why do you put up with it?” You cannot help the sharpness in your tone, even as they glare at you, a far cry from their previous <<if $twotenone is "scowl">>awkwardness. <<else>>good humour.<</if>> “What?” Their voice is sharper, too, whip sharp and ready to bite back if needed. “Why do you put up with //him//?” At this, you throw your hands up and move away, frustration bleeding into your tone and gestures. “He seems like a liability, not a famed, reliable cap—” “He’s brilliant.” Their tone brooks no argument, and you shrink back a little, before realising that the tension in their jaw is sad, //wistful//, rather than angry. "And he’s the nearest thing to family I have left.” * [[You feel a pang of sympathy – you miss your family, too.|2.10.4 robin][$family to "vstrong"]] * [[You wince – you think about your family periodically and it still hurts.|2.10.4 robin][$family to "strong"]] * [[You grimace – you can’t remember the last time you thought about your family.|2.10.4 robin][$family to "weak"]] * [[You scowl – you didn’t need reminding about your family.|2.10.4 robin][$family to "vweak"]] <</if>>

<<if $family is "vstrong">>Warm brown eyes study you carefully, and they smile. “You miss your family.” A simple enough sentence, at face value, though it hits like a battering ram, and for one moment you feel as if you cannot breathe. The layers of hurt wash over you like waves at sea, and you wish the waves would carry you home as they did when— You have been adrift before, you see. Robin leans back to give you more room, and smiles supportively. “You could talk to Gray – they miss their family badly.” Huh. Perhaps that was why they were so rude to you earlier. You can //definitely// sympathise. And at that, you start to study Robin just as carefully, <<if $height is "vtall">>looking down at them for a long moment before pursing your lips. <<elseif $height is "tall">>looking at them for a long moment before pursing your lips. <<else>>looking up at them for a long moment before pursing your lips. <</if>> “What about you?” At that, their eyebrows shoot up, brow wrinkled in confusion and jaw tight with something you can’t quite parse. Their eyes are hard, frustration punctuating every word in their question. “What do you mean, ‘what about me’?” * <<link "You're taken aback." "2.10.5 robin">><<set $robin++, $robinrom++>><<set $twotenfourrobin to "oops">><</link>> * <<link "You feel your hackles rise." "2.10.5 robin">><<set $robin-->><<set $twotenfourrobin to "thefuck">><</link>> <<elseif $family is "strong">> Warm brown eyes study you carefully, and they smile. “You miss your family.” A simple enough sentence, at face value, though it hits like a battering ram, and for one moment you feel as if you cannot breathe. The layers of hurt wash over you like waves at sea, and you wish the waves would carry you home as they did when— You have been adrift before, you see. Robin leans back to give you more room, and smiles supportively. “You could talk to Gray – they miss their family badly.” Huh. Perhaps that was why they were so rude to you earlier. You can //definitely// sympathise. And at that, you start to study Robin just as carefully, <<if $height is "vtall">>looking down at them for a long moment before pursing your lips. <<elseif $height is "tall">>looking at them for a long moment before pursing your lips. <<else>>looking up at them for a long moment before pursing your lips. <</if>> “What about you?” At that, their eyebrows shoot up, brow wrinkled in confusion and jaw tight with something you can’t quite parse. Their eyes are hard, frustration punctuating every word in their question. “What do you mean, ‘what about me’?” * <<link "You're taken aback." "2.10.5 robin">><<set $robin++, $robinrom++>><<set $twotenfourrobin to "oops">><</link>> * <<link "You feel your hackles rise." "2.10.5 robin">><<set $robin-->><<set $twotenfourrobin to "thefuck">><</link>> <<elseif $family is "weak">>Warm brown eyes study you carefully, a frown furrowing their brow for a moment. “Do you not miss your family?” There’s no judgement in the question – only a quiet sadness that you would like to bundle yourself in. (You had tried, once, to belong with them. //Really// tried. And look where it got you.) “No.” The word is small, barely a syllable, but it speaks a multitude, even as they acquiesce with a small, kind smile. And at that, you start to study Robin just as carefully, <<if $height is "vtall">>looking down at them for a long moment before pursing your lips. <<elseif $height is "tall">>looking at them for a long moment before pursing your lips. <<else>>looking up at them for a long moment before pursing your lips. <</if>> “What about you?” At that, their eyebrows shoot up, brow wrinkled in confusion and jaw tight with something you can’t quite parse. Their eyes are hard, frustration punctuating every word in their question. “What do you mean, ‘what about me’?” * <<link "You're taken aback." "2.10.5 robin">><<set $robin++, $robinrom++>><<set $twotenfourrobin to "oops">><</link>> * <<link "You feel your hackles rise." "2.10.5 robin">><<set $robin-->><<set $twotenfourrobin to "thefuck">><</link>> <<elseif $family is "vweak">>Warm brown eyes study you carefully, a frown furrowing their brow for a moment. “I take it you were no great homebird, then.” There’s no judgement in the statement – only a quiet sadness that you would like to bundle yourself in. (There had never been any point in trying to belong, really. Anyone could see it.) “//No//.” The word is emphatic, punched out on a ragged exhale, and it says more than enough, forcing them into silence with a reassuring smile. And at that, you start to study Robin just as carefully, <<if $height is "vtall">>looking down at them for a long moment before pursing your lips. <<elseif $height is "tall">>looking at them for a long moment before pursing your lips. <<else>>looking up at them for a long moment before pursing your lips. <</if>> “What about you?” At that, their eyebrows shoot up, brow wrinkled in confusion and jaw tight with something you can’t quite parse. Their eyes are hard, frustration punctuating every word in their question. “What do you mean, ‘what about me’?” * <<link "You're taken aback." "2.10.5 robin">><<set $robin++, $robinrom++>><<set $twotenfourrobin to "oops">><</link>> * <<link "You feel your hackles rise." "2.10.5 robin">><<set $robin-->><<set $twotenfourrobin to "thefuck">><</link>> <</if>>

<<if $twotenfourrobin is "oops">>You feel yourself blink owlishly at their tone, recoiling slightly as your mouth opens and closes to try and get enough air into your lungs to— You’re not sure //what//, exactly. For their part, Robin grimaces apologetically and offers a warm smile that seems much more at home on their features than any consternation – though they have still //clearly// decided that the conversation is over, as they adjust the bundle of supplies under their arm and run one long finger underneath the rim of their wrap. <<if $countertwoninecity lte 3>>“I’m ready to finish up here. But, if you wanted, I could take you back to the ship?” * [[“No, thanks, I still want to look around.”|2.10.6turndownrobin]] * [[“Ok, thank you.”|2.10.6backwithrobin]] <<elseif $countertwoninecity is 4>>“We should get back to the ship, it’s late.” [[They’re right – the city is blanketed in iridescent dusk.|2.11counterdone]] <</if>> <<elseif $twotenfourrobin is "thefuck">> Two can play at that game. “What the fuck was //that//?” You demand in turn, stepping closer to them and resisting the urge to relish in their instinctive move back. You have been used as a punching-bag for too long, you will not take it from them as well. They //are// taken aback by your reaction – though not //so// taken aback that their eyes do not harden and their lips do not purse in a frown. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Their tone is iron, even if it sounds as though it doesn’t fit them. //Fine//, then. They cough uncomfortably then, and seem to (try to) swallow down any of the tension like bile, turning to you with a politer, cooler smile. <<if $counter lte 3>>“I’m ready to finish up here. But, if you wanted, I could take you back to the ship?” * [[“No, thanks, I still want to look around.”|2.10.6turndownrobin]] * [[“Ok, thank you.”|2.10.6backwithrobin]] <<elseif $counter is 4>>"We should get back to the ship, it’s late.” [[They’re right – the city is blanketed in iridescent dusk.|2.11counterdone]] <</if>> <</if>>

They take the rejection as well as they have taken most things, a polite smile on their face as they nod goodbye. “Very well – make sure you’re back before nightfall.” <<if $robinrom gte 1>>Your stomach flips at the smile they gift you, broad and unguarded again, before they turn towards one of the alleys that must lead to the docks. <<else>>You feel yourself smile reflexively at the smile they gift you, before you watch them turn towards one of the alleys that must lead to the docks. <</if>> [[You find yourself alone once more.|2.9]]

Their smile is broad and unguarded again, and it’s…nice to have someone who’s actually //pleased// to spend time with you, even if it is for something so trivial. <<if $robinrom gte 1>>Your stomach flips at the smile they gift you, before they gesture as best they can towards one of the many alleyways leading away from the marketplace, one of the veins leading out from the pulsing heart of the town. <<else>>You feel yourself smile reflexively at the smile they gift you, before they gesture as best they can towards one of the many alleyways leading away from the marketplace, one of the veins leading out from the pulsing heart of the town. <</if>> Your cheeks hurt from smiling [[by the time you reach the dock.|2.10 ship]]

You make your way back to the ship for the roll call, the streets less crowded now— Though that only makes it more obvious that there is a commotion at the docks, and you quicken your steps. <<if $twotenfiverob is "withrobin">>Robin's legs carry them faster than you think possible, without losing a single parcel, and you struggle to keep up as you make your way up the gangplank. <<else>>"$firstname!” Robin's voice carries across the din, and you can just about see them on deck, trying to organise the crew. Better the devil you know, you suppose. <</if>> Your lungs are burning by the time you reach them, and their hand on yours is warm and reassuring as a life-raft when they pull you on board<<if $touch is "averse">>, even as they move back apologetically with a sympathetic smile once you have your feet on deck<</if>>. “Where's Lorcan?” You look around, but cannot find him in the confusion - and despite how he left you, you cannot help but worry. “Blast the fucker, we have to go //now//.” One of the crew members yells— And then stops [[when they see the look on Robin's face.|2.11.1]]

When you approach him, you regret, for one brief moment, stepping forward. Then your resolve hardens, and a sailor to your left <<if $language is "multi">>politely offers you a choice of weapons, and you choose: <<elseif $language is "mono">>gestures expressively to a choice of weapons, and you choose: <<else>>politely offers you a choice of weapons, and you choose: <</if>> * [[the elegant sword, with clean lines and a bronze hilt.|2.10.2 combatpartake][$preferredweapon to "sword"]] * [[the simple dagger, its sharp steel glinting under lantern light.|2.10.2 combatpartake][$preferredweapon to "dagger"]] * [[the leather whip, the end frayed to form small, individual strands. All the better to inflict stinging pain on an opponent.|2.10.2 combatpartake][$preferredweapon to "whip"]] * [[the ready-loaded flintlock pistol, with its equipment and spare bullets nearby.|2.10.2 combatpartake][$preferredweapon to "pistol"]] * [[none of them – you have always trusted your fists.|2.10.2 combatpartake][$preferredweapon to "fisticuffs"]]

<<if $language is "mono">>Though you cannot understand what is being said, your understanding of //body// language is enough to get the gist – the barrel-chested man in the remarkably white fustanella wants a fight, and unless someone obliges, he may just start picking at random. <<elseif $language is "bit">>You don’t need to understand //every// word to get the gist – the barrel-chested man from Greece wants a fight, and unless someone obliges, he may just start picking at random. <<elseif $language is "multi">>You hear a man with a thick, Greek accent – from the North, Pyrgos perhaps – bellow a challenge, and unless someone obliges, he may just start picking at random. <</if>> <<if $combat lte 1.5>>You don’t fancy your chances if his eye falls on you. <</if>> * [[Luckily for you, a tall, lean man in Ottoman garb steps forward.|2.10.2 combatobserve][$dsgender to "man"; $dshe to "he"; $dshis to "his"; $dshim to "him"; $dshers to "his"; $dshimself to "himself"; $dshes to "he’s"; $dsHe to "He"; $dsHis to "His"; $dsHes to "He’s"]] * [[Luckily for you, a tall, lean woman in Ottoman garb steps forward.|2.10.2 combatobserve][$dsgender to "woman"; $dshe to "she"; $dshis to "her"; $dshim to "her"; $dshers to "hers"; $dshimself to "herself"; $dshes to "she’s"; $dsHe to "She"; $dsHis to "Her"; $dsHes to "She’s"]]

For a moment, time stands still. And then— It very much //doesn’t//. <<if $preferredweapon is "pistol">>For one thing, he’s quicker on the draw than you were expecting, and you <<if $combat gte 4.5>>manage to dodge the shot<<else>>just about manage to dodge the shot<</if>> before raising your own pistol.<<if $combat gte 4.5>>You aim for his calf and hit it, blood (though, if your shot was true, //only//blood) erupts from the wound and [[he falls to the ground with a cry.|2.10.5 combatpartake]]<<else>>You aim for his thigh— <<timed 4s t8n>>and hit his calf instead, in an explosion of blood and bone fragments that makes him shriek and fall to the ground. [[Well, shit.|2.10.5 combatpartake]]<</timed>><</if>> <<elseif $preferredweapon is "whip">>For one thing, his physical advantage hardly helps you, his whip jerking forward to wrap around your wrist, jerking you towards him. <<if $combat gte 4.5>>You manage to stand your ground, making him stumble enough for your whip hand to flash forward, wrist snapping the whip against his cheek and torso and making him howl with pain. Another flick of your wrist [[and he is cowering before you on the ground.|2.10.5 combatpartake]]<<else>>The movement makes you stumble for a moment, and you raise your other arm to protect your face and torso from the whip when he flicks his wrist once more. [[Then your dance begins again.|2.10.4 combatpartake]]<</if>> <<elseif $preferredweapon is "fisticuffs">>For one thing, he’s faster than you were expecting from the sheer bulk of him, spiralling closer to you with graceful movements. <<if $combat gte 4.5>>Yet you spiral away to the perimeter of the ring just as quickly and begin studying him for weaknesses. The back of his knees, perhaps. Elbows? [[He approaches again before you can consider further.|2.10.4 combatpartake]] <<else>>He just misses your arm when he grabs for it, and you stagger away as fast as you can, already unbalanced. [[Which doesn’t bode well as he advances again.|2.10.4 combatpartake]] <</if>> <<else>>For one thing, he’s faster than you were expecting from the sheer bulk of him, spiralling closer to you with graceful movements. <<if $combat gte 4.5>>Yet you dart in quick enough to slash at him with the blade, and when he staggers back he glares at you, [[before raising the blade again.|2.10.4 combatpartake]] <<else>>He just misses your arm when he slashes at it, and you stagger away as fast as you can, already unbalanced. [[Which doesn’t bode well as he advances again.|2.10.4 combatpartake]] <</if>> <</if>>

<<if $preferredweapon is "pistol">>When directed, you dutifully move to stand back to back with your rival, <<if $height is vshort>>the back of your head barely reaching the middle of his back. <<else>>and you think he could quite easily crush the back of your head between his shoulder blades. <</if>> <<if $combat gte 4.5>>You’ll just have to shoot faster, [[that’s all.|2.10.3 combatpartake]] <<else>>…it’ll be fine. [[Probably.|2.10.3 combatpartake]]<</if>> At the signal, you each step away from each other to begin your dance, your index finger hovering carefully over the trigger as you <<timed 2s t8n>>wait <<next>>for <<next>>your <<next>>[[moment.|2.10.3 combatpartake]] <</timed>> <<elseif $preferredweapon is "fisticuffs">>The canvas wrap around your fingers is light, just enough to defend your knuckles from the worst damage without losing the range of movement…though range of movement will hardly serve you well if you come within your opponent’s range, his hands looking even more enormous under the binding than you had thought possible. <<if $combat gte 4.5>>You’ll just have to be faster, [[that’s all.|2.10.3 combatpartake]] <<else>>…it’ll be fine. <<timed 2s t8n>>[[Probably.|2.10.3 combatpartake]]<</timed>><</if>> <<else>>You adjust your grip on the weapon as you square up to your opponent – or, try to, at least. All you can think is that //his// grip on his <<if $preferredweapon is "sword">>sword <<elseif $preferredweapon is "dagger">>dagger <<else>>whip <</if>>looks crushing – even from here, you can see his knuckles blanching white. Marvellous. <<if $combat gte 4.5>>You’ll just have to be faster, [[that’s all.|2.10.3 combatpartake]] <<else>>…it’ll be fine. <<timed 2s t8n>>[[Probably.|2.10.3 combatpartake]]<</timed>><</if>> <</if>>

<<if $preferredweapon is "pistol">>The duel was easy enough – which is perhaps not a surprise but gratifying nonetheless. You have always prided yourself on being able to take care of yourself, and this is no exception. The purse of gold you receive for your win is just an added bonus. <<set $money to 100>> <<if $countertwoninecity lte 3>>[[You head out of the alley with a spring in your step.|2.9]] <<else>>It’s late, though. [[You should get your ill-gotten gains back to the ship.|2.11counterdone]] <</if>> <<elseif $preferredweapon is "whip" and not hasVisited("2.10.4 combatpartake")>>The fight was easy enough – which is perhaps not a surprise but gratifying nonetheless. You have always prided yourself on being able to take care of yourself, and this is no exception. The purse of gold you receive for your win is just an added bonus. <<set $money to 100>> <<if $countertwoninecity lte 3>>[[You head out of the alley with a spring in your step.|2.9]] <<else>>It’s late, though. [[You should get your ill-gotten gains back to the ship.|2.11counterdone]] <</if>> <<elseif $preferredweapon is "fisticuffs">>The fight was easy enough – which is perhaps not a surprise but gratifying nonetheless. You have always prided yourself on being able to take care of yourself, and this is no exception. The purse of gold you receive for your win is just an added bonus. <<set $money to 100>> <<if $countertwoninecity lte 3>>[[You head out of the alley with a spring in your step.|2.9]] <<elseif $countertwoninecity is 4>>It’s late, though. [[You should get your ill-gotten gains back to the ship.|2.11counterdone]] <</if>> <<elseif $preferredweapon is "sword">>The fight was easy enough – which is perhaps not a surprise but gratifying nonetheless. You have always prided yourself on being able to take care of yourself, and this is no exception. The purse of gold you receive for your win is just an added bonus. <<set $money to 100>> <<if $countertwoninecity lte 3>>[[You head out of the alley with a spring in your step.|2.9]] <<else>>It’s late, though. [[You should get your ill-gotten gains back to the ship.|2.11counterdone]] <</if>> <<elseif $preferredweapon is "dagger">>The fight was easy enough – which is perhaps not a surprise but gratifying nonetheless. You have always prided yourself on being able to take care of yourself, and this is no exception. The purse of gold you receive for your win is just an added bonus. <<set $money to 100>> <<if $countertwoninecity lte 3>>[[You head out of the alley with a spring in your step.|2.9]] <<else>>It’s late, though. [[You should get your ill-gotten gains back to the ship.|2.11counterdone]] <</if>> <</if>>

<<if $preferredweapon is "whip">>Your arm stings where the whip has cracked against it, almost cruel in its precision, and you try to mimic the movement, flicking your wrist and hitting with just enough force that he stumbles a little, and you stare at each other <<timed 2s t8n>>for <<next>>a <<next>>few <<next>>moments. <<next>>…until his wrist flicks up again and hits your cheek and //fuck//, it’ll be a miracle if that doesn’t scar. <<set $twotenfourcombat to "scarredcheek">> <</timed>> You yield. [[You have no other choice, if you value your life.|2.10.6 combatpartake]] <</timed>> <<elseif $preferredweapon is "fisticuffs">><<if $combat gte 4.5>>Your opponent seems pretty confident. Unfortunate. There is a crunch when your fist meets the crook of his elbow, and though he howls a battle-cry and makes to lift his still-functioning arm to make one final attack, you both know he’s done. You sidestep his futile swing and bring down your elbow in the middle of his shoulder-blades. When he hits the ground you wait for the referee’s signal— <<timed 5s t8n>>And then they raise their hand, [[and the win is yours.|2.10.5 combatpartake]]<</timed>> <<else>>Your opponent advances again, and despite your best efforts to create distance, his reach is just too fucking long. You see stars. And not in the good way. <<set $twotenfourcombat to "blackeye">> <<timed 4s t8n>>You think— <<next>>You think someone must have yielded on your behalf. <<next>>The next thing you know, a different man is standing over you, [[pressing a cloth soaked in witch-hazel extract to your cheekbone.|2.10.6 combatpartake]] <</timed>><</if>> <<else>><<if $combat gte 4.5>>This is not your first fight – and if you cannot resist the siren call of skirmishes and steel clashing, it will definitely not be your last. Your footing is sure as ever, even on the rough cobbled street, and when your blade arcs through the air, the stroke slows down until— <<timed 2s t8n>>the blade slices across their chest – a surface wound, easy enough to stitch (with a few shots of brandy), [[but a decisive victory nonetheless.|2.10.5 combatpartake]]<</timed>> <<else>>This is not your first fight – though it //is// your first fight with real steel, as opposed to a wooden training blade. //And// your first on such uneven ground, the cobbled street setting you off-balance straightaway and //then//— It would be unfair to say you //never// had a chance. But certainly the odds were not in your favour. His blade is just too fast, whistling through the air as precise as a whip, and there is a hushed silence when you look down <<timed 4s t8n>>and all you can see from your peripheral vision is <<next>>[[red.|2.10.6 combatpartake]] <<set $twotenfourcombatpartake to "scarredcheek">><</timed>> <</if>> <</if>>

<<if $twotenfourcombatpartake is "scarredcheek">>If you had to choose which stings more, your cheek or your pride, you might have to say your cheek. But only just. As your opponent is congratulated by his cronies, you find yourself relegated to the side-lines, as another challenger steps forward in your stead. //Godspeed, you delusional fool.// //Fuck//, that hurt. You haven’t felt pain like this in a good long while, and each breath seems to crease your cheek in new, painful ways that make you wince and start the cycle all over again. “Here,” a voice offers from your right, and you turn to see a cloth outstretched, the hand still hesitant, as if its owner wants to avoid touching you. <<if $touch is "averse">>Good.<</if>> //He’s handsome.// The thought comes unbidden, though much as he tries to hide it, the hood of his travel cloak pulled around his face, he cannot hide the sharp jaw and high cheekbones and doe-like amber eyes. Long, rich golden hair is pulled into a low ponytail at the nape of his neck, just visible past his hood and the navy-blue collar of his jacket underneath. It is only when he clears his throat slightly, the sound stiff somehow, that you realise that you have been staring. * <<link "Thank him with a smile." "2.10.6.1 combatpartake">><<set $anthony to $anthony +2>><<set $twotensix to "politethank">><</link>> * [[Thank him with a scowl.|2.10.6.1 combatpartake][$twotensix to "rudethank"]] * <<link "Take the cloth silently." "2.10.6.1 combatpartake">><<set $anthony-->><<set $twotensix to "silenttake">><</link>> * [[Stare at him.|2.10.6.1 combatpartake][$twotensix to "stareblank"]] <<elseif $twotenfourcombatpartake is "blackeye">>“Don’t move.” The instruction is curt and sharp, yet simple despite it all, an anchor as you try to stop your head from swimming and try to orient yourself. “Where—” “In a side-street. In Lisbon.” He bites the words out as he dabs tentatively underneath your eye, and the witch hazel stings enough that you have to fight the urge to flinch away<<if $touch is "averse">>, just as you fight the even stronger urge to flinch away from his touch. <<else>>.<</if>> Instead you look up at him, eyes seeking out his features in the low light, and you feel your lips part slightly. //He’s almost shockingly handsome.// The thought comes unbidden – though much as he tries to hide it with the hood of a worn travel cloak pulled around his face, he cannot hide the sharp jaw and high cheekbones and doe-like amber eyes. Long, rich golden hair is pulled into a low ponytail at the nape of his neck, just visible past his hood and the navy-blue collar of his jacket underneath. It is only when he clears his throat slightly, the sound stiff somehow, that you realise that you have been staring. * <<link "Thank him with a smile." "2.10.6.1 combatpartake">><<set $anthony to $anthony +2>><<set $twotensix to "politethank">><</link>> * [[Thank him with a scowl.|2.10.6.1 combatpartake][$twotensix to "rudethank"]] * <<link "Take the cloth silently." "2.10.6.1 combatpartake">><<set $anthony-->><<set $twotensix to "silenttake">><</link>> * [[Stare at him.|2.10.6.1 combatpartake][$twotensix to "stareblank"]] <</if>>

<<if $twotensixcombatpartake is "politethank">>You let your lips broaden<<if $twotenfourcombatpartake is "scarredcheek">> – at least, as far as you are able, your cheek stinging in protest as the muscles move<<else>>, and smile widely at him <</if>> even as his eyes round in surprise. Whatever he had been about to say seems swallowed by the slightest of stammers. “I—” His voice is hoarse, and he coughs roughly instead before <<if $twotenfourcombatpartake is "scarredcheek">>pressing the cloth into your hand and taking half a step back.<<else>>dabbing at your eye more delicately than you would expect from a man of his stature.<</if>> “You are very welcome.” He murmurs, before averting his eyes for a moment or five<<if $twotenfourcombatpartake is "scarredcheek">> as you dab gently at your cheek and wince at the sting.<<else>> and focusing instead on his task.<</if>> //English,// you think dimly. Clipped and curt, but with a faded hint of something underneath that makes you cock your head as best you can. When next he speaks, amber eyes study you through long, thick lashes. “What brings you here?” * <<link "Tell the truth...sort of." "2.10.6.2 combatpartake">><<set $twotensixonecombatpartake to "truth">><<set $anthony++, $lorcan-->><</link>> * <<link "Try to lie." "2.10.6.2 combatpartake">><<set $twotensixonecombatpartake to "liar">><<set $anthony--, $lorcan++>><</link>> <<elseif $twotensixcombatpartake is "rudethank">>You cannot bring yourself to smile<<if $twotenfourcombatpartake is "scarredcheek">> (not least because it hurts like a //bitch//)<</if>> and instead you twist your lips into something that might be a scowl if you didn’t ache all over. If your apparent companion is bothered by your tone, he hides it well, <<if $twotenfourcombatpartake is "scarredcheek">>pressing the cloth into your hand and taking half a step back as you dab gently at your cheek and wince at the sting.<<else>>dabbing at your eye more delicately than you would expect from a man of his stature.<</if>> “You are very welcome.” He murmurs, before averting his eyes for a moment or five<<if $twotenfourcombatpartake is "scarredcheek">> as you dab gently at your cheek and wince at the sting.<<else>> and focusing instead on his task.<</if>> //English,// you think dimly. Clipped and curt, but with a faded hint of something underneath that makes you cock your head as best you can. When next he speaks, amber eyes study you through long, thick lashes. “What brings you here?” * <<link "Tell the truth...sort of." "2.10.6.2 combatpartake">><<set $twotensixonecombatpartake to "truth">><<set $anthony++, $lorcan-->><</link>> * <<link "Try to lie." "2.10.6.2 combatpartake">><<set $twotensixonecombatpartake to "liar">><<set $anthony--1, $lorcan++>><</link>> <<elseif $twotensixcombatpartake is "silenttake">>When you wordlessly pluck the cloth from his hand, <<if $touch is "averse">>being careful not to touch him, <</if>>full lips press together in a firm line, as if he is sucking a wasp. “Very well.” His voice is clipped and curt in a way that marks him as indelibly //English//, even as there is a faded hint of something underneath that makes you cock your head as best you can. When next he speaks, amber eyes study you through long, thick lashes. "What brings you here?” * <<link "Tell the truth...sort of." "2.10.6.2 combatpartake">><<set $twotensixonecombatpartake to "truth">><<set $anthony++, $lorcan-->><</link>> * <<link "Try to lie." "2.10.6.2 combatpartake">><<set $twotensixonecombatpartake to "liar">><<set $anthony--, $lorcan++>><</link>> <<else>>You stare blankly at him, eyes drifting over handsome features as you try to focus on the question. To add insult to injury, you have been staring long enough by now that he shifts restlessly, <<if $twofourtwocombatpartake is "scarredcheek">>taking the cloth from your hand and dabbing at the wound.<<else>>drifting closer to cup the back of your head as he swipes the cloth under your eye.<</if>> Despite his apparent expertise in patching people up, he seems to be enjoying this even less than you. “Where are you from? Where do you need to go?” //Where, indeed.// “I need to find my—” You just about manage to cut yourself off before you incriminate yourself (if you learned nothing else from the tavern, you know that Lorcan is //persona non grata// in this city and like to get you more seriously injured than this. “Your…” The man prompts, something glinting in amber eyes deep enough to drown in. * <<link "Tell the truth...sort of." "2.10.6.2 combatpartake">><<set $twotensixonecombatpartake to "truth">><<set $anthony++, $lorcan-->><</link>> * <<link "Try to lie." "2.10.6.2 combatpartake">><<set $twotensixonecombatpartake to "liar">><<set $anthony--, $lorcan++>><</link>> <</if>>

<<if $twotensixonecombatpartake is "truth">>For a moment, your heart leaps into your throat, and you think you can feel your pulse in your ears. Calm. Calmly, sweetling. …put a pin in that for now. “We docked in the harbour earlier.” You try to level out your voice, swallowing around the lump in your throat, and though his tone is one of studied disinterest, you can //feel// his ears prick up. “We?” “My crew.” That much is true, at least. “Which ship did you come in on?” And now…//panic//. You pause for a moment, trying to seem dazed as your rack your brain for the name of a ship, //any// ship that might sound plausible, and you settle on “The Hereward.” You remember hearing that The Hereward had left harbour, and it had certainly sounded like a large enough ship to warrant something that sounded as grandiose as a “crew”. He gives you no reaction, instead humming thoughtfully and angling your face so he can look more closely at your wound. (His hands are warm. Distractingly so.) “You should be alright, now.” His voice is quiet (or muffled by the thundering in your skull, you cannot quite be sure) as he considers you. And the moment lingers, at least until he clears his throat. “I should go and find my m—” He stops himself with a rough cough, before continuing. “//My// crew.” It seems that two of you can play at your game. “Very well.” When you start to watch him leave, his figure upright and silhouetted against the filtered, hazy sunlight, you realise that— “I don’t even know your name.” He smiles to reveal dimples, though his words are drowned out by a thunderous roar of approval from the audience, and you turn to see that your opponent is prone on the ground. //Serves him right. Prick.// When you turn to thank your benefactor, he is long gone. <<if $countertwoninecity lte 3>>[[What will you do now?|2.9]] <<elseif $countertwoninecity is 4>>It’s late – [[you should make your way back to the docks.|2.11counterdone]] <</if>> <<elseif $twotensixonecombatpartake is "liar">>The only thought running through your mind is that, simply put, it wouldn’t be wise to be known as //hostis humani generis//. You do your best to straighten your spine and <<if $height is "vtall" or "tall">>look at him<<else>>look up at him<</if>>, affecting a haughty expression. “My father is doing business in the city.” (After a week in what was, in effect, captivity, you look like a guttersnipe. Hardly the progeny of a wealthy merchant.) And indeed, he seems unconvinced. “It is…rare to find English-speaking merchants in the city,” he says slowly, eyes roving over your features. “And you would know?” You challenge, trying to deflect and //seeming// to succeed when the first answer he gives you is nothing more than a hum. “I have my own business here.” He murmurs, mouth twisting as if he is sucking a wasp, and you feel a stab of something that tastes rusty like guilt. “I—” At your (frankly pathetic) attempt at speech, he looks at you, amber eyes staring deep into your soul as you try to choke out your thanks. “Thank you.” His scowl softens a little around the edges, and he bows slightly. (//Definitely// English.) “It was my pleasure.” And, despite everything else, he actually seems to mean it, lips quirking at the corners in a small smile before he turns on his heel and leaves you alone. <<if $countertwoninecity lte 3>>[[What will you do now?|2.9]] <<elseif $countertwoninecity is 4>>It’s late – [[you should make your way back to the docks.|2.11counterdone]] <</if>> <</if>>

<<set $lorcan to 0>> <<set $robin to 0>> <<set $gray to 0>> <<set $lorelei to 0>> <<set $grace to 0>> <<set $anthony to 0>> <<set $otherrel to 0>> <<set $lorcanrom to 0>> <<set $robinrom to 0>> <<set $grayrom to 0>> <<set $loreleirom to 0>> <<set $gracerom to 0>> <<set $anthonyrom to 0>> <<set $otherrom to 0>> <<set $combat to 0>> <<set $research to 0>> <<set $navigation to 0>> <<set $mysticism to 0>> <<set $money to 0>> <<set $ds to 0>> <<set $dsrom to 0>> <<set $plural to false>>

The Golden Harp

written by Ren

<<widget "are">><<if $plural eq true>>are<<else>>is<</if>><</widget>> <<widget "were">><<if $plural eq true>>were<<else>>was<</if>><</widget>> <<widget "s">><<if $plural eq true>><<else>>s<</if>><</widget>> <<widget "have">><<if $plural eq true>>have<<else>>has<</if>><</widget>>

And though a charming smile is on $dshis lips, judging by the Greek’s reaction, you don’t think $dshis opening line was all that endearing. You watch as $dshe picks up * [[the elegant sword, with clean lines and a bronze hilt.|2.10.3 combatobserve][$preferredweapon to "sword"]] * [[the simple dagger, its sharp steel glinting under lantern light.|2.10.3 combatobserve][$preferredweapon to "dagger"]] * [[the leather whip, the end frayed to form small, individual strands. All the better to inflict stinging pain on an opponent.|2.10.3 combatobserve][$preferredweapon to "whip"]] * [[the ready-loaded flintlock pistol, with its equipment and spare bullets nearby.|2.10.3 combatobserve][$preferredweapon to "pistol"]] * <<link "none of them - $dshe clearly favours $dshis fists." "2.10.3 combatobserve">><<set $preferredweapon to "fisticuffs">><</link>>

<<if $preferredweapon is "whip">>$dsHe looks at home with a whip in $dshis hand, and that reassures you //slightly// about the obvious physical advantage of $dshis opponent… …but //only// slightly. And yet, it barely takes three flicks of the Turk’s whip before the Greek is on the floor, thin wounds seeping blood from his cheek, torso and groin. Another feint, and the man is cowering at $dshis feet. <<elseif $preferredweapon is "pistol">>When directed, $dshe moves to stand back to back with the Greek, and you think that $dshe could quite easily get $dshis head crushed by the Greek’s shoulder blades. At the signal, they each step away from each other to begin their dance, index fingers hovering carefully over the trigger as all assembled <<timed 2s t8n>>wait with bated breath <<next>>and <<next>>as you’d hoped, $dshe spins around faster than you could track – and //significantly// faster than the Greek could track, the bullet clipping his thigh with pin-prick precision even as he shrieks and falls to the ground.<</timed>> <<elseif $preferredweapon is "fisticuffs">>There is a crunch when $dshis fist meets the crook of the Greek’s elbow. And though he howls a battle-cry and makes to lift his still-functioning arm to make one final attack, everyone present knows he’s done, even when the Turk brings down $dshis elbow in the middle of his shoulder-blades. When the Greek hits the ground, you all wait for the referee’s signal— <<timed 5s t8n>>And then they raise their hand, [[and the win is the Turk’s.|2.10.4 combatobserve]]<</timed>> <<else>>You can tell that this is //not// the Turk’s first fight – $dshis footing is too sure, $dshis movements too graceful, and with each stroke of $dshis blade the Greek looks more and more frantic until— <<timed 2s t8n>>the blade slices across his chest – a surface wound, easy enough to stitch (with a few shots of brandy), but a decisive victory nonetheless.<</timed>> <</if>> As the challengers raise their voices, in the hope of vanquishing $dshim and proving themselves, you find your attention drawn by someone else observing the fight. //He’s handsome.// The thought comes unbidden, though much as he tries to hide it, the hood of his travel cloak pulled around his face, he cannot hide the sharp jaw and high cheekbones and doe-like amber eyes. Long, rich golden hair is pulled into a low ponytail at the nape of his neck, just visible past his hood and the navy-blue collar of his jacket underneath. It is only when he clears his throat slightly, the sound stiff somehow, that you realise that you have been staring. And that //he// has been staring, too. * <<link "Greet him with a smile." "2.10.4 combatobserve">><<set $anthony++>><<set $twotenthreecombatobserve to "smileygreet">><</link>> * <<link "Smily shyly." "2.10.4 combatobserve">><<set $anthony++>><<set $twotenthreecombatobserve to "shysmile">><</link>> * <<link "Ask what he's looking at." "2.10.4 combatobserve">><<set $anthony-->><<set $twotenthreecombatobserve to "demandanswer">><</link>> * <<link "Scowl at him." "2.10.4 combatobserve">><<set $anthony-->><<set $twotenthreecombatobserve to "scowl">><</link>>

<<if $twotenthreecombatobserve is "smileygreet">>You let your lips broaden into a smile, even as his eyes round in surprise. “It’s a pleasure you meet you.” Your voice is bright and friendly, a contrast from your environment, and whatever he had been about to say seems swallowed by the slightest of stammers. “I—” His voice is hoarse, and he coughs roughly instead, before looking at the more neutral scene of the Turk annihilating the Greek, <<if $preferredweapon is "whip">>$skhis whip cracking across his cheek<<elseif $preferredweapon is "pistol">>bullet bursting through the Greek’s calf <<elseif $preferredweapon is "fisticuffs">>fist connecting with the Greek’s jowl<<else>>blade striking the Greek with the precision of a whip<</if>>. Amber eyes scan the fighters for weaknesses, and for a moment or five you think he will not answer you. “You are very welcome,” he murmurs, before averting his eyes again. //English,// you think dimly. Clipped and curt, but with a faded hint of //something// underneath that makes you cock your head. And he, in turn, studies //you// through long, thick lashes. “What brings you here?” * <<link "Tell the truth...sort of." "2.10.5 combatobserve">><<set $twotenfourcombatobserve to "truth">><<set $anthony++, $lorcan-->><</link>> * <<link "Try to lie." "2.10.5 combatobserve">><<set $twotenfourcombatobserve to "liar">><<set $anthony--, $lorcan++>><</link>> <<elseif $twotenthreecombatobserve is "shysmile">>Your lips move only slightly, hopefully enough to reassure, even as you speak quietly. “It’s a pleasure you meet you.” For a moment, amidst the din of the city and the suburbs ringing through the air, you think he hasn’t heard you. “I—” His voice is hoarse, and he coughs roughly instead before looking at the more neutral scene of the Turk annihilating the Greek, <<if $preferredweapon is "whip">>whip cracking across his cheek<<elseif $preferredweapon is "pistol">>bullet bursting through the Greek’s calf<<elseif $preferredweapon is "fisticuffs">>fist connecting with the Greek’s jowl<<else>>blade striking with the precision of a whip<</if>>. Amber eyes scan the fighters for weaknesses, and for a moment or five you think he will not answer you. “You are very welcome,” he murmurs, before averting his eyes again. //English,// you think dimly. Clipped and curt, but with a faded hint of //something// underneath that makes you cock your head. And he, in turn, studies //you// through long, thick lashes. “What brings you here?” * <<link "Tell the truth...sort of." "2.10.5 combatobserve">><<set $twotenfourcombatobserve to "truth">><<set $anthony++, $lorcan-->><</link>> * <<link "Try to lie." "2.10.5 combatobserve">><<set $twotenfourcombatobserve to "liar">><<set $anthony--, $lorcan++>><</link>> <<elseif $twotenthreecombatobserve is "demandanswer">>For a moment, you freeze, unwilling to admit that you have been caught. Then, you feel your hackles rise, and you scowl to cover your reaction. “What are //you// looking at?” A distant part of you observes that you may well die here today, but at least you’ll have deserved it. If anything, he is almost offensively calm. “Nothing in particular. That is one of my crew members.” At this, he gestures at a great, hulking man, corded with muscles and sinews, and you are quietly grateful that you chose not to partake. //He has an English accent,// you think dimly. Clipped and curt, but with a faded hint of //something// underneath that makes you cock your head. And he, in turn, studies //you// through long, thick lashes. “What brings you here?” * <<link "Tell the truth...sort of." "2.10.5 combatobserve">><<set $twotenfourcombatobserve to "truth">><<set $anthony++, $lorcan-->><</link>> * <<link "Try to lie." "2.10.5 combatobserve">><<set $twotenfourcombatobserve to "liar">><<set $anthony--, $lorcan++>><</link>> <<else>>You feel your face tighten into a scowl, and watch //his// face stay calm for a moment, though his jaw tightens. “Apologies. Idle curiosity – I will be here for some time, I think.” At this, he gestures to some men drinking and laughing raucously – though exactly //why// he feels the need to supervise grown men, he doesn’t say. Instead, he studies you through long, thick lashes. "What brings you here?” * <<link "Tell the truth...sort of." "2.10.5 combatobserve">><<set $twotenfourcombatobserve to "truth">><<set $anthony++, $lorcan-->><</link>> * <<link "Try to lie." "2.10.5 combatobserve">><<set $twotenfourcombatobserve to "liar">><<set $anthony--, $lorcan++>><</link>> <</if>>

<<if $twotenfourcombatobserve is "truth">> For a moment, your heart leaps into your throat, and you think you can feel your pulse in your ears. Calm. Calmly, sweetling. …put a pin in that for now. “We docked in the harbour earlier.” You try to level out your voice, swallowing around the lump in your throat, and though his tone is one of studied disinterest, you can //feel// his ears prick up. “We?” “My crew.” That much is true, at least. “Which ship did you come in on?” And now…//panic//. You pause for a moment, trying to seem dazed as your rack your brain for the name of a ship, //any// ship that might sound plausible, and you settle on "the Hereward.” You vaguely remember hearing that The Hereward had left harbour, and it had certainly sounded like a large enough ship to warrant something that sounded as grandiose as a “crew”. He gives you no reaction, instead humming thoughtfully looking back at the fight, grimacing slightly at one particularly powerful hit. (His lips look soft.) He seems to snap back into focus and remember himself, declaring, “I should go and find my m—” He stops himself with a rough cough, before continuing. “//My// crew.” When you start to watch him leave, his figure upright and silhouetted against the filtered, hazy sunlight, you realise that— “I don’t even know your name.” He smiles to reveal dimples, though his words are drowned out by a thunderous roar of approval from the audience, and you turn to see that the burly Greek is on the ground. When you turn back to bid the gentleman farewell, he’s long gone. What will you do now? <<if $countertwoninecity lte 3>>* [[See what else there is to do in the city.|2.9]] <<elseif $countertwoninecity is 4>>* [[Go back to the docks – your time is up.|2.11counterdone]] <</if>> <<elseif $twotenfourcombatobserve is "liar">>The only thought running through your mind is that, simply put, it wouldn’t be wise to be known as //hostis humani generis//. You do your best to straighten your spine and <<if $height is "vtall" or "tall">>look at him<<else>>look up at him<</if>>, affecting a haughty expression. “My father is doing business in the city.” (After a week in what was, in effect, captivity, you look like a guttersnipe. Hardly the progeny of a wealthy merchant.) And indeed, he seems unconvinced. “It is…rare to find English-speaking merchants in the city,” he says slowly, eyes roving over your features. “And you would know?” You challenge, trying to deflect and //seeming// to succeed when the first answer he gives you is nothing more than a hum. “I have my own business here.” He murmurs, mouth twisting as if he is sucking a wasp, and you feel a stab of something that tastes rusty like guilt. “I—” At your (frankly pathetic) attempt at speech, he looks at you, amber eyes staring deep into your soul as you try to choke out your next words. “It really was good to meet you.” His scowl softens a little around the edges, and he bows slightly. (//Definitely// English.) “It really was my pleasure.” And, despite everything else, he actually seems to mean it, lips quirking at the corners in a small smile before he turns on his heel and leaves you alone. <<if $countertwoninecity lte 3>>* [[See what else there is to do in the city.|2.9]] <<elseif $countertwoninecity is 4>>* [[Go back to the docks – your time is up.|2.11counterdone]] <</if>> <</if>>

The man sits surrounded by other sailors; thick arms ringed with tattoos as he straddles one of the tavern’s chairs. The others watch with rapt attention as he gestures animatedly, and as you draw closer, close enough to see low-lidded eyes spark with warmth and the slight curl in his salt-and-pepper beard, you start to see why. "…well, I am but a humble man,” the storyteller pauses as hecklers tell him to get on with it, Mal, "but I cannot claim to rival the Luscinia.” A hush falls over the older mariners, a few on the outskirts of the group muttering to each other, until the hush is broken by one of the man’s—//Mal’s//—acolytes. "What’s the Luscinia?” The boy—and he //is// a boy, no more than thirteen years old—pipes up, trying to pull his shirt sleeves to cover the powder burn scars as Mal scrutinises him for a moment. "Oh, you sweet, summer child,” Mal coos, leaning forward, "let me tell you.” Despite yourself, [[you lean in.|2.10.2 research]]

In the corner, surrounded by a tight-knit group of followers, sits an older woman, choppy, dark hair framing a face marked with laughter lines and by years at sea, though deep brown eyes look undiminished as she regales them with tales of the voyages she has taken over the years. When you take a seat, she smiles conspiratorially and leans back in her seat. “Where’s the most dangerous sailing, pet?” She asks you, head cocked as she studies your reaction. * <<link "Bluster." "2.10.2 navigation">><<set $ds++>><<set $twotentwonav to "bluster">><</link>> * [[Defer to her.|2.10.2 navigation][$twotentwonav to "defer"]]

"When the Komenda Wars ravaged the Gold Coast, who was the only one to benefit? When the Princess of the Palatinate sent a wedding gift to the poor Spanish Queen, who was there to intercept it? Who is the only ship to rival the Golden Harp?” Mal pauses for effect, and you think the powder boy at his feet might suffocate if he does not take a breath soon. "The Luscinia.” A wave of excitement ripples through the crowd, though it stills when Mal raises his hand as if he is a conductor leading a grand orchestra. "Word has it, the Luscinia is back in the Atlantic – and that’s not all.” <<if $countertwoninecity lte 3>> <<if hasVisited("2.10.1 navigation")>>* [[Stay to hear more.|2.10.3 research]] * ==Drift over to the other group.== <<else>>* [[Stay to hear more.|2.10.3 research]] * [[Drift over to the other group.|2.10.1 navigation]] <</if>> <<elseif $countertwoninecity is 4>>* [[Unfortunately, you’re out of time.|2.11counterdone]] <</if>>

"I’ve //heard//,” and just like that, Mal casts a spell over his audience again, reeling them in as if they are the easiest of catches, "that the seas are bubbling again – there are serpents in the deep, lads.” "//Bullshit//.” Someone interjects from the back, and a burst of discontent rumbles through the group like thunder until Mal raises his hand once more. "The Jackdaw hasn’t made it back to shore,” he booms, and you think you sense other patrons turning around, drawn in by the pronouncement, "but Dennis McCrae has – and he’s spinning some very pretty yarns, you mark my—” "Ah, sure—” An Irish accent pipes up, their arms crossing over their chest, "Dennis McCrae was half-mad anyway, ever since he fell overboard near Iceland.” And at that, the assembly descends into jeering and accusations – though you see some of the older mariners touching prayer beads and hair wraps and totems, and you feel something heavy settle in the pit of your stomach. <<if $countertwoninecity lte 3>>[[See what else the city has to offer.|2.9]] <<else>>[[You’re out of time.|2.11counterdone]] <</if>>

<<if $twotentwonav is "bluster">>“The Bermuda Triangle,” you assume, head cocked to mirror her expression – and even though you think she is laughing //at// you, the sound is warm enough that you cannot bring yourself to mind. “In my experience,” here, she affects the mannerisms of an English dandy – a far cry from her thick, Glaswegian accent – much to the amusement of her audience, "the Sea of Champa has always proved more treacherous.” "Is that so?” You play along, stroking an imaginary goatee, and her laughter rings out again as a spark of mischief flares in her eyes. <<elseif $twotentwonav is "defer">>“I’m no veteran, I’d sooner—” You gesture vaguely at her, hoping she’ll step in – and she does, with a laugh (and though you think she is laughing //at// you, the sound is warm enough that you cannot bring yourself to mind). <</if>> “I’ve been to plenty of interesting places, truth be told – rode the seas through cyclones and whirlpools and even—” She breaks off at this, and you <<if $countertwoninecity lte 3>> <<if hasVisited("2.10.1 research")>>* [[stay to hear more.|2.10.3 navigation]] * ==drift over to the other group.== <<else>>* [[stay to hear more.|2.10.3 navigation]] * [[drift over to the other group.|2.10.1 research]] <</if>> <<elseif $countertwoninecity is 4>>* [[realise, unfortunately, that you’re out of time.|2.11counterdone]] <</if>>

“And even…” you prompt, leaning closer to her on instinct, drinking in the silence and then drowning in her when she speaks. “In the mid-Atlantic, far away from any natural landmass, you sometimes find twin rocks that rise from the waves. The tides pull you into their orbit, and their voices—” For a moment, she looks faraway, lost in a memory, and you speak quietly to draw her from it. “Whose voices?” “Sirens.” A simple word, one that sends a murmur through the older sailors and a hoot of raucous laughter through the younger ones. One of the younger men, pockmarked and weasel-faced, pipes up with a smirk. “Sirens target //men//, Tosh.” //Tosh// braces one hand on a still well-muscled thigh and smirks. “Like anyone would target //you//.” //Howls// of laughter at that, and one of the braver pups leans in to jest, “How //ever// did you cope?” A shadow passes over her face for a moment, and you start to wonder if what you have heard in stories about the beauty of sirens might have been a myth. “I cut myself free and got back to my ship.” The mood of the group turns sombre, and though you try to catch Tosh’s eye to smile at her, she looks resolute as she stares at the opposite wall and finishes her shot. And then another. <<if $countertwoninecity lte 3>>* [[See what else the city has to offer.|2.9]] <<else>>* [[You’re out of time.|2.11counterdone]] <</if>>

The city has never felt more like a rabbit warren, and you follow them as discreetly as you can, staying to the shadows as their robes shine like a beacon to light your way. Or draw you further into the darkness, an anglerfish in the deep. Either way. When they reach their destination, there are at least a dozen more, fireflies in the dark as they swarm around a brazier. <<if $language is "multi">>You hear smatterings of Portuguese and Latin, talking about how “they” will come and cleanse the unbelievers, before the language shifts into something sharper, harsher. German? Norwegian? The polyphony and layering of voices makes it difficult to piece the words together, try as you might. <<elseif $language is "bit">>You hear smatterings of Portuguese and something that might be Italian, though beyond the verbs “come” and “liberate”, you can’t make anything else out. And then the language shifts into something sharper, harsher. German? Norwegian? The voices layering masks what few words you may have known. <<else>>You hear snatches of language that you have no hope of distinguishing, the sounds sharpening into a driving rhythm as you listen transfixed. <</if>> The worshippers <<if $language is "mono">>(and you don’t need to be more than monolingual to know that they //are// worshipping something, even if it doesn’t sound like any prayer you’ve ever heard before) <</if>>gather closer around the brazier, robbing you of the light, and you move a little closer. Close enough to see a gold medallion hanging from one man’s waist - the symbol isn’t one you recognise<<if $strength is "mysticism">>, despite your own research,>><</if>> and vine-like tendrils reach towards a crudely-carved sun. (You think you can sympathise with that feeling of grasping for something out of reach. You’re not sure you’d typically choose to resort to this, though.) The chanting seems to die down, and you shuffle back into the shadows as the brazier comes back into view, little by little. [[And then, you run.|2.10.2 mysticism]]

Something else guides your feet as you run, feet pounding on the cobblestones as you throw caution to the wayside and get //out//. <<if $strength is "mysticism">>Though you haven’t known groups be so brazen before, there’s a first time for everything - and you have heard tell of what some will do to guard their secrets. <<else>>You do not have to be an expert on the activities of such groups to know that they will not take kindly to you snooping around. <</if>> You cling to the growing crescendo of the city, run towards it as if you were running home— And when you burst out onto the main thoroughfare, crashing into the back of a butcher’s cured meat display, you decide that you can weather the storm of his curses if it means you have found safe harbour. As you lean against a wall (well-lit and visible), your mind returns to the pattern on the medallions. <<timed 2s t8n>>Curious. <<next>>You don’t recall seeing that pattern before. <<next>>Or, perhaps you might - //if// this were not the second time today that you had had to run for your life<<if hasVisited("2.10.1 combatpartake")>>, let alone //fight// for it<</if>>. <<next>>Perhaps you are simply not built for a pirate’s life. <<next>>…well, //that’s// not something you ever thought you’d think. Funny how that happens. <<next>><<if $countertwoninecity lte 3>>In any case, you have [[the rest of the city to explore.|2.9]] <<else>>The sun, though, is sinking below the horizon, and [[you are out of time.|2.11counterdone]] <</if>> <</timed>>

When you approach Gray’s door, you realise that there is one, solitary crew member sitting outside, looking as //bored// as you have ever seen another human. “Why are you here?” The words tumble out before you can stop them, and they look up at you with a scowl— Before their irritation bleeds away into nothing, and they rub their eyes tiredly. “Captain’s orders.” The murmur is faint, muffled still by their hand scratching at stubble, and you cock your head and try to smile winningly. <<if $conviction gte 3>>It doesn’t normally come naturally, but you’re hoping the sailor is too tired to resist.<<else>>You’re hoping the sailor is too tired to resist your charms.<</if>> “Can //I// go in?” You keep your voice as neutral as you can - Lorcan had made it //pretty// clear that he expected you to obey his authority and you //don’t// think this qualifies. You hope that the ease with which the sailor crumples has more to do with your charm than with the fact that they clearly want to get rid of you. “Sure, don’t see why not.” You make sure to thank them<<if $conviction gte 3>>, even if the words sound foreign in your mouth, scratching on the way out,<</if>> and they even give you a small, if weak, smile [[as they wave you through.|2.10.1 gray]]

<<silently>><<if $countertwoninecity is 3>><<$countertwoninecity to $countertwoninecity + 1>> <<elseif $countertwoninecity is 2>><<$countertwoninecity to $countertwoninecity +2>> <<elseif $countertwoninecity is 1>><<$countertwoninecity to $countertwoninecity +3>> <<elseif $countertwoninecity is 0>><<$countertwoninecity to $countertwoninecity +4>> <<else>> <</if>> <</silently>> You aren’t sure how long you sleep soundly before your sleep turns dazed, hazy, and your mind turns to see— <<timed 2s t8n>>a face <<next>>directly <<next>>[[in front of yours.|2.10.1 nap]] <</timed>>

You have barely cracked the door open before Gray’s voice cracks like a whip. “Go //away//.” Though the bluster is convincing enough, they don’t sound //angry// so much as //frustrated//. So you open the door wide enough for you to slip in, and though they start to stir from the floor and suck in the breath for a yell, it dies on their lips when they see you. “Oh. It’s you.” <<if $gray gte 2>>You think they might be pleased to see you, sagging against the wall with relief.<<else>>You cannot quite parse their tone - but they aren’t about to yell at you, which you think is as good as it’s going to get.<</if>> They look //dreadful// - hair tangled and eyes dull and ringed with red and clothes askew. But mostly, they look //tired//, as if they have fought a bear and lived to tell the tale - but at what cost. “Well, you might as well—” They break off and gesture at their chair, and you * <<link "sit on their chair." "2.10.2 gray">><<set $twotenonegray to "chair">><<set $gray +=1>><</link>> * <<link "sit next to them on the floor. ♡" "2.10.2 gray">><<set $twotenonegray to "floor">><<set $gray -=1, $grayrom +=1>><</link>> * <<link "stay standing." "2.10.2 gray">><<set $twotenonegray to "stand">><<set $gray -=1>><</link>>

<<if $twotenonegray is "chair">>They hum, satisfied as you follow their half-finished request and sit gingerly on the velvet chair, and they let their head rest against the wooden wall behind them. <<elseif $twotenonegray is "floor">>When you sit next to them against the wall, stretching your legs out in front of you, their entire body seems to freeze, even as their cheeks turn scarlet. <<else>>There is a slight purse to their lips, though any tension seems to slip through their fingers like water, and their head thunks back against the wall. <</if>> “So, why are you still—” “I’m a //flight risk//.” The words are almost mocking, though right now they certainly //look// like they wish they could be anywhere but here. “A what?” “//Lorcan,//” they grind out, lips twisting into a scowl, “thinks I will take the opportunity to sneak away.” The words take a moment to sink in, but when they do, you cannot help the way your jaw drops. “Wait, so you’re—” “Not here of my own free will?” Now they //are// laughing, though whether it’s at you or at their situation, you cannot quite tell. <<link "“What //ever// gave you that idea?”" "2.10.3 gray">><</link>>

<<if hasVisited("2.10 robin")>><<silently>>$gray++<</silently>>You let the comment fade into the ether, and the pair of you settle into a comfortable silence. Then you remember what Robin told you, and you turn slightly to face them. “Do you miss your family?” “I—” For a moment, they cannot quite answer, and their lower lip trembles slightly before they try again. “I miss my mother.” Their fingers trail anxiously over the velvet ribbon in their hair, before they look at you carefully out of the corner of their eye. “Do you miss your family?” The question is cautious, as if they are not sure whether they should ask it...but they cannot help themself. <<if $family is "vstrong">>Another pang of sympathy, and you nod and choke out a //yes//, despite the lump in your throat. There is a faraway look in their eyes, and they smile warmly at you. “Family is a fine thing, when it goes well. Not everyone is as lucky as us.” You cannot help but agree. <<elseif $family is "strong">>You wince - though they do not occupy your every thought, you still miss them, and you manage to nod. “Sometimes,” you concede, and they nod sagely, a faraway look in their eyes. Then, they give you the warmest smile you think they ever have. “Family is a fine thing, when it goes well. Not everyone is as lucky as us.” You smile encouragingly at them, though something heavy settles in the pit of your stomach. <<elseif $family is "weak">>You grimace, and shake your head slightly - you can’t remember the last time you thought about your family, and for good reason. They hum thoughtfully at that, a faraway look in their eyes. “I suppose I’ve been very lucky - my family has always supported what I want to do.” <<else>>You scoff slightly, shaking your head and studying the grain of wood at your feet. “I suppose I’ve been very lucky,” they say, and when you look at them there is a warm smile on their lips - the warmest you think they’ve ever given you, "that my family has always supported what I want to do.” <</if>> <<else>>“What would you do if you weren’t here?” You question, expecting them to say that they would sleep in a feather bed, or walk in stately gardens, or— “Oh, exactly the same.” Their tone is sanguine, though there is a slight mischief in their eyes when they look at your incredulity. “I love my //job//, $firstname,” and there is a trill that goes through you when they say your name, “I just don’t love my //employer//.” <</if>> They seem receptive, far more so than when you first met them, so you push your luck a little more. “Have you always wanted to do this?” You look carefully at them, and the smile that spreads across their features is serene, and their eyes flutter shut a moment. “Always - my father was a navy man, and he would bring me back new maps from the Sea of Champa, the Black Sea, Jap—” At this, their eyes fly open and they stop, mouth twisting into a pout as they turn away. “I’m boring you.” The assertion is so far out of left field that you pause for a moment, uncertain - long enough that they start to shift restlessly, so you * <<link "ask them to tell you more." "2.10.4 gray">><<set $twotenthreegray to "more">><<set $gray +=2>><</link>> * <<link "change the subject." "2.10.4 gray">><<set $twotenthreegray to "actuallyno">><<set $gray -=1>><</link>>

<<if $twotenthreegray is "more">><<silently>><<set $navigation to $navigation +2>><</silently>>Something //sparks// in them, eyes ablaze, and they look truly alive for the first time since you’ve met them. “Well, you see,” and at this they spring up and start rummaging in their desk, tutting every few breaths until they find the parchment they want, “all maps have a system of coordinates - the Cyrenaic system was the first, we think, but we’ve been using a modified version of the Ptolemaic since the 1300s.” They continue in much the same vein for what could be hours - and you struggle to reconcile this version of themself with the one that barely wanted to acknowledge your existence before. <<else>><<silently>><<$research++>><</silently>>You talk for a little while longer, about their home of South Shields and about their mother (one of the great Northern beauties, more beautiful than her sisters by far), and about their old ship, the Hereward, that was boarded by the Golden Harp two years previously. <<if hasVisited("2.10.6 combatpartake") or hasVisited("2.10.1 combatobserve")>>//That// must have been where you’d heard the name - you can only hope that your companion hadn’t been reading the same broadsheets, else— No matter. <</if>><</if>><<if $countertwoninecity is 4>>But //then//, [[the ship erupts into noise.|2.12]] <<else>>With the breadth of conversation and the shear wealth of knowledge they have, when you leave Gray, you feel as if [[you’ve earned your rest.|2.10 nap]] <</if>>

<<if hasVisited("2.10 nap")>>The ship is abuzz with noise when you wake up, sitting upright with a gasp, and you have to close your eyes for a moment to //focus//. Heavy footfall. Yells. Gunfire. Oars row— //Gunfire//. Fuck. When the rush outside your door dies down, enough that you think you can leave without knocking someone out, you push your door open, making your way to the main deck before you hear— “Hey!” You would hardly have thought Gray could be so loud, but their voice<<if hasVisited("2.10 gray")>>, far from being alive with interest as they were before,<</if>> is sharp with panic, and you * <<link "go to them." "2.12.1">><<set $twotwelve to "graywhatsup">><<set $gray +=1>><</link>> * <<link "leave them be." "2.12.1">><<set $twotwelve to "uptop">><<set $gray -=3>><</link>> <<else>>The noise is sudden, enough to make Gray visibly flinch, and their composure hardly improves as the noises from outside continue. “Hey!” You would hardly have thought Gray could be so loud, but their voice is laced with panic, and you * <<link "move to comfort them." "2.12.1">><<set $twotwelve to "graycomfort">><<set $gray +=1>><</link>> * <<link "give them space." "2.12.1">><<set $twotwelve to "grayspace">><<set $gray +=1>><</link>> * <<link "tell them to snap out of it." "2.12.1">><<set $twotwelve to "graytough">><<set $gray -=1>><</link>> <</if>>

An undeniably beautiful face. High cheekbones and emerald-green eyes ringed with thick lashes and skin so pale that you doubt they have ever worked a day under the sun, all framed with blood-red hair in a cloud of curls. When they speak, lips caressing the words in a kiss, their voice is less layered, a single melody taken from the orchestra and played just for you. “Hello, again.” Oh. So they //do// have a face. (Though no body, it seems. They blend into the mist as if they were born there - and for all //you// know, they were.) * <<link "Greet them politely." "2.10.2 nap">><<set $twotenonenap to "politegreet">><<set $otherrel +=1>><</link>> * [[Demand answers.|2.10.2 nap][$twotenonenap to "demand"]] * <<link "Stay silent." "2.10.2 nap">><<set $twotenonenap to "silence">><<set $otherrel +=1>><</link>>

<<if $twotenonenap is "politegreet">>You nod, and murmur your own greeting with a smile. (//Can// you smile in a dream? You’d like to, and for now you think that might have to be enough.) They seem satisfied enough, in any case, and their smile broadens as they move a little closer. “I wasn’t sure you’d come back.” They whisper, as if it is a great confession, though there is a playful quirk to their lips. “What do you mean?” You cock your head curiously, and they laugh in response. “I’ve been so lonely here.” Had they a body, you think they might swoon dramatically onto a chaise longue. As it is, despite their smirk, the statement rings of truth, and you smile as best you can. “Well, I’m here now.” Their mouth opens and closes for a few moments, before they turn away slightly. “Yes, I suppose you are.” When they turn back, any hesitation is gone, replaced only by a new, teasing smirk. “So…you’re a big, //bad// pirate now.” * <<link "“Hardly.”" "2.10.3 nap">><<set $twotentwonap to "hardly">><</link>> * <<link "“Sure am.”" "2.10.3 nap">><<set $twotentwonap to "sure">><</link>> * <<link "“Not by choice.”" "2.10.3 nap">><<set $twotentwonap to "nochoice">><</link>> <<elseif $twotenonenap is "demand">>When your brain and mouth reconnect, the questions flow from you with the force of a river bursting its banks. “What’s going on? Where am I? I don’t—” They shush you, and you feel the weight of their gaze, studying you. //Examining// you. “Just relax, sweetling,” they coo, and though you cannot help but think of them as predator and you as prey— For now, at least, your dream self seems to be //willing// prey. “You come to visit me when you’re in a light sleep,” they hum, and they move to brush their lips against your ear, “and I haven’t had a visitor in a long time.” //So I’m, what, special?// A peal of laughter, almost musical, before they speak again, pausing to giggle. "In—incredibly so.” //Well,// ''that’s'' //unsettling.// And if they heard //that//, they elect not to mention it. “And //now//, you’re a big, //bad// pirate.” * <<link "“Hardly.”" "2.10.3 nap">><<set $twotentwonap to "hardly">><</link>> * <<link "“Sure am.”" "2.10.3 nap">><<set $twotentwonap to "sure">><</link>> * <<link "“Not by choice.”" "2.10.3 nap">><<set $twotentwonap to "nochoice">><</link>> <<elseif $twotenonenap is "demand">>When your brain and mouth reconnect, the questions flow from you with the force of a river bursting its banks. <<else>>You stay silent, remembering their last instructions - and though you hear them huff a laugh, when next they speak their lips are twisted into a pout. “It’s typically considered polite to greet someone back, sweetling.” …typically, yes. What seems to be at issue is whether or not you consider this to be //typical//. * <<link "Greet them." "2.10.2.1 nap">><<set $twotentwonap to "silenthello">><<set $otherrel++>><</link>> * <<link "Stay silent." "2.10.2.1 nap">><<set $twotentwonap to "silentsilent">><<set $otherrel++>><</link>> <</if>>

<<if $twotentwonap is "hardly">>Your scoff makes them raise their eyebrows, and though they had been close before, their presence is now enveloping, //overwhelming//. Cloying, like smoke in your lungs. “There, there,” they coo, breath ruffling a few errant strands of hair, “you’ll get your moment yet. That //bonehead// of a captain you have won’t let you //not//.” <<elseif $twotentwonap is "sure">>You’re not sure if they’re laughing //at// you or //with// you. “If you say so, sweetling,” they coo fondly, breath ruffling a few errant strands of hair, “//I// certainly shan’t disprove it. That //bonehead// of a captain you have, on the other hand—” For once, they seem to show restraint, pursing their lips together and looking away, though you bend to try and meet their eye. <<else>>They tut fondly at your muted melancholy, and though they had been close before, their presence is now enveloping, //overwhelming//. Cloying, like smoke in your lungs. “There, there, sweetling,” they coo, breath ruffling a few errant strands of hair, “you’ll get your moment yet. That //bonehead// of a captain you have won’t let you //not//.” <</if>> “What do you mean?” The confusion clouds your voice—your voice sounds. strange. unlike your own, distorted, //wrong//, blurring into yells and— “Nev—ah.” Your companion’s reassurance is cut short when they sense something you don’t, and you wish you knew what was coming. “I think you’re about to find out, sweetling.” <<link "“Wha—”" "2.12">><</link>>

<<if $twotentwonap is "silenthello">>You manage to croak out a greeting, however, belated, and your companion’s face turns sympathetic. (You don’t like to think about whether you can trust it.) “How are you feeling, sweetling?” //I don’t know.// The thought is drawn from you, like poison from a wound, and you feel yourself try to pull back, to protect anything else from escaping. “Come //on//,” they pout again, and you feel their lips brushing the shell of your ear, “you’re a big, //bad// pirate now.” <<else>>You stay silent, not least because you can think of any number of tricks they might play on you - your mind is quite //literally// not your own - and though your silence had pleased them before, now they scowl, the expression twisting their features almost beyond recognition. “//Don’t// ignore me - I can’t abide it.” Under the hard edge in their voice, there is a plea - one to which you acquiesce with a small nod. “In any case,” they continue, as if you hadn’t defied them, brow smooth and voice mellifluous once more, “you have plenty to crow about - you’re a big, //bad// pirate now, after all.” <</if>> * <<link "“Hardly.”" "2.10.3 nap">><<set $twotentwonap to "hardly">><</link>> * <<link "“Sure am.”" "2.10.3 nap">><<set $twotentwonap to "sure">><</link>> * <<link "“Not by choice.”" "2.10.3 nap">><<set $twotentwonap to "nochoice">><</link>>

“We stay.” Robin's tone brooks no argument, and for the first time you understand how Robin keeps this crew in check, tone steel-sharp and eyes flinty as they stare down any dissent. There is only one small murmur of discontent that dies quiet as a sigh, and then the crew stop fussing with the ropes, for a moment. And then //he// appears, swinging over the ship as if he hadn't a care in the world, and he grins broadly at Robin as if this were a normal Wednesday. “Tell Fairfax to chart a course for Nassau.” There is //something// sparkling in his eye that you cannot quite parse, and though Robin's lip quirks slightly, Lorcan's enthusiasm infectious, their voice is incredulous. “//Nassau//? Lorcan—” “You heard me.” Though his tone is genial enough, there's a hard edge there, eyes determined as he looks out to the horizon. “We have work to do.” And he just //stands// there, completely unrepentant, as if he didn't leave you for dead in a tavern full of his enemies. * <<link "You're hurt. ♡" "2.11.2">><<set $lorcanrom +=1>><<set $twoeleventwo to "hurt">><</link>> * [[You're pissed.|2.11.2][$twoeleventwo to "pissed"]] * [[You just…don't care anymore.|2.11.2][$twoeleventwo to "apathy"]]

<<if $twoeleventwo is "hurt">>“You //left// me.” The words leave you in a rush, before you can claw them back, and you wait for him to say something. “Sorry, pet,” he doesn't //seem// sorry, but there's a moment where his lips purse and he avoids looking at you before he carries on, “duty called." You open your mouth to say something, a retort, an insult, a plea, but— //Something// hits the side of the ship, hard enough to make you sway on your feet, and you try to ignore the fluttering in your stomach when Lorcan grabs your arm to steady you. <<elseif $twoeleventwo is "pissed">>You throw all caution to the wind, poking him in the chest and snarling, “Where the fuck //were// you?” He barely flinches at your gesture, the muscles in his chest harder than steel - his smirk only grows, and he leans back to look at you more closely. “Congratulations,” at this he drops into a mocking bow, “you passed the test, I—” He stumbles slightly when //something// hits the side of the ship. <<else>>You try to block out his bullshit, instead focusing on the feeling of rope under your fingers. He tuts quietly and takes it from you, fingers moving fluently over the rope until the knots are loose enough to free the Harp from the shore. He only fumbles when //something// hits the side of the ship. <</if>> There's something dangerous about him, you decide as a glint sparks in sea-green eyes, and Robin sees it too, a warning tone entering their voice. “Leave them be, we need all hands on deck.” And for a moment, you think Lorcan might listen— <<timed 3s t8n>>And then, when he peers overboard, he sees //something// that makes his face grow paler, before grabbing a pistol and //shooting//— <<next>>You're not sure if he hits his target. <<next>>You don't want to look. <<next>>The oars beat a steady rhythm, quickening as the water deepens, and if they can maintain this pace for long enough for the sails to be released, you're //free//. <<next>>[[For now, at least.|2.13]] <</timed>>

<<timed 2s t8n>>''17th July 1710. <<next>>Lisbon, Portugal.'' <<next>>//Clear skies, light breeze.// <<next>>//Docked in Lisbon, and let the men ramble around//<<next>> //- most were well-disciplined as always, though Thompkins and Jeffreys will face sanctions for disorderly behaviour in the city’s fighting circles.// <<next>>//Came close to detaining Crowe.// <<next>>//Failed.// <<next>>Deep breath. <<next>>Strikes the last word out. <<next>>Then strikes it out again, for good measure. <<next>>The lamp is burning low, and for hours he has been staring at the paper, searching for— <<next>>Something. <<next>>Inspiration, perhaps. <<next>>Though it is difficult to know how to frame unqualified failure in any kind of positive light. <<next>>Especially when it is his //fault//— <<next>>No matter. <<next>>(There are more distractions than he expected, and each hesitation breeds more variables, heads of a hydra that already has him ensnared.) <<next>>He will endure. <<next>>He always has. <<next>>Pauses to sign his name, as always, before dimming the lanterns and unbuttoning his uniform for bed. <<next>>Tomorrow promises great things. <<next>>//Perhaps.// <<next>>//Or perhaps,// he thinks as the bandages protest when he shrugs off his jacket, //the next bullet will pierce his flesh nearer to his heart.// <<next>>In the darkness, unseen, the ink dries, penetrates the page until it is an indelible stain. <<next>> [[Anthony James Meverell, Captain of the Guillemot.|3.1]]<</timed>>

<<if $twotwelve is "uptop">>Above deck is chaotic enough that it takes you what could well be an age to refocus your eyes enough to see Lorcan fire a parting shot at someone on shore, a man with wild golden hair and a dark-blue jacket with— Gold. Insignia of some kind, and even if you can’t see the details, you know you’re //fucked// if you’re caught. You feel your fingers dance over rope, tying and untying knots as directed by the sailor next to you, and when you feel the oars pick up the pace, you start to hope they can maintain their pace. If they //can//, you’re free. <<silently>> <<$combat++>> <</silently>> [[For now, at least.|2.13]] <<elseif $twotwelve is "graycomfort">>You move closer to Gray, until you are close enough to touch, before they move away, wheeling away towards the door and rattling the door. The //locked// door. The realisation that both of you are trapped in a locked room hardly helps your composure. “Oh, I—” Gray starts to babble, tugging at their hair and wringing their hands and running their fingers along the embroidery on their waistcoat and the fraying end of the velvet ribbon in their hair, and— “Breathe.” You don’t move any closer to them, instead raising your hands as you vaguely remember seeing people do to horses, and for a moment they stare at you incredulously. And then, they laugh. First a choked hiccup, then a giggle that bubbles up in their throat until you finally see their lips quirk in a smile. <<if $grayrom gt 0>>(They are beautiful. Almost unnervingly so.) <</if>>“I’d love to tell you that that doesn’t work on humans, and yet—” They gesture helplessly at themself, and you think you see a faint flush on tanned cheeks. It would be endearing, but both of you are distracted by the sounds of the sailors returning below deck, the sounds more reassured than panicked, and you both sag in relief. You must be safe. [[For now, at least.|2.13]] <<elseif $twotwelve is "grayspace">>You stay put, watching them carefully as they move around the space, breathing erratic and movements swift, fingers gliding over the embroidery of their waistcoat, their hair, the worn velvet ribbon, and— “It’s ok. I’m here.” <<if $weakeness is "combat">>You’re pretty confident that you’re better off out of the way, any way.<<else>>The crew is large enough that you don’t feel guilty for leaving the others to solve things.<</if>> But you’re needed here. And your presence seems to be helping, judging by how Gray’s breathing evens out, and after a few moments they smile at you - it is almost crooked. <<if $grayrom gt 0>>(They are beautiful. Almost unnervingly so.) <</if>>“Thank you.” They gesture helplessly at themself, and you think you see a faint flush on tanned cheeks. It would be endearing, but both of you are distracted by the sounds of the sailors returning below deck, the sounds more reassured than panicked, and you both sag in relief. You must be safe. [[For now, at least.|2.13]] <<elseif $twotwelve is "graytough">>You feel a mute panic close your own throat, and when you can speak again you frown deeply. “//Stop it//,” you snap, moving closer to the door, hearing shouts of alarm and //navy// and names like //Marvell// or //something// that makes you pause and makes Gray bang against the door, fists hitting like bricks. “Hey!” Gray’s voice is louder than you’ve ever heard it, and you struggle to hear anything other than the crack in their voice, the pounding of their fists on the wooden door harder than you thought possible— When they finally tire themself out, they slump back down on the floor, eyes downcast and hands already beginning to bruise. “Here.” You find a small bowl of water, most likely meant for washing, and place it in front of them, but they don’t move. <<if $touch is "averse">>…well, fuck. You consider for a moment approaching anyway, guiding them to the bowl— But you //can't//. And though they seem aware of little else in this moment, you think that Gray might be one of the only people on this ship who would truly understand that.<<else>>Slowly, as if you expect them to bolt, you reach for their hand and try to ignore their gasp when your fingers touch the inside of their wrist. “You—” They start, brow furrowed as you place their hands in the water before leaning back slightly. Then they are silent once more.<</if>> In the new hush, you can hear the sailors returning below deck, the sounds more reassured than panicked, and you both sag in relief. You must be safe. [[For now, at least.|2.13]] <<else>>When you reach Gray’s door, you hear them pacing inside, pausing every so often to gulp breaths. “Gray? Gray, can you hear me?” You fight to keep your voice calm, and though their breaths are uneven, you hear them move closer to the door. “What’s going on?” They sound //lost//, and the door rattles as they fight the lock. “I don’t know, I can go find—” “//No//, please—” Gray cuts you off, their volume rising, and you move closer to the door to reassure them. “It’s ok. I’m here.” <<if $weakness is "combat">>You’re pretty confident that you’re better off out of the way, in any case.<<else>>The crew is large enough that you don’t feel guilty for leaving the others to solve things.<</if>> You’re needed here. You keep talking - about your home, your friends (such as they were - you wonder what they would think of you now), your dreams and hobbies and even some of your fears. They are still enough that you wonder whether they are asleep - but when you start to shift restlessly, they murmur quietly. “Thank you.” Something like warmth spreads out behind your rib cage, and you stay there together, [[long after the oars beat a steady rhythm to (temporary) freedom.|2.13]] <</if>>

<<if $strength is "combat">>You also consider yourself to have <<cycle "$secondary" autoselect>> <<option "an ability to use your intellect and to decode dense manuscripts" "research">> <<option "a talent for map-reading and a sound understanding of the heavens" "navigation">> <<option "a sound knowledge of ancient religions and the mystical arts" "mysticism">> ... <</cycle>> <<elseif $strength is "research">>You also consider yourself to have <<cycle "$secondary" autoselect>> <<option "a talent for tactical knowledge and fighting skills" "combat">> <<option "a talent for map-reading and a sound understanding of the heavens" "navigation">> <<option "a sound knowledge of ancient religions and the mystical arts" "mysticism">> ... <</cycle>> <<elseif $strength is "navigation">>You also consider yourself to have <<cycle "$secondary" autoselect>> <<option "a talent for tactical knowledge and fighting skills" "combat">> <<option "an ability to use your intellect and to decode dense manuscripts" "research">> <<option "a sound knowledge of ancient religions and the mystical arts" "mysticism">> ... <</cycle>> <<elseif $strength is "mysticism">>You also consider yourself to have <<cycle "$secondary" autoselect>> <<option "a talent for tactical knowledge and fighting skills" "combat">> <<option "an ability to use your intellect and to decode dense manuscripts" "research">> <<option "a talent for map-reading and a sound understanding of the heavens" "navigation">> ... <</cycle>> <</if>>, [[even if you're a little rusty.|2.8.2]]

<<if $strength is "combat" and $secondary is "research">>…though, if it comes down to your <<cycle "$weakness" autoselect>> <<option "knowledge of navigation" "navigation">> <<option "knowledge of the mystic arts" "mysticism">> ... <</cycle>>, you may not [[make it through the week.|2.9]] <<elseif $strength is "combat" and $secondary is "navigation">>…though, if it comes down to your <<cycle "$weakness" autoselect>> <<option "research skills" "research">> <<option "knowledge of the mystic arts" "mysticism">> ... <</cycle>>, you may not [[make it through the week.|2.9]] <<elseif $strength is "combat" and $secondary is "mysticism">>…though, if it comes down to your <<cycle "$weakness" autoselect>> <<option "research skills" "research">> <<option "knowledge of navigation" "navigation">> ... <</cycle>>, you may not [[make it through the week.|2.9]] <<elseif $strength is "research" and $secondary is "combat">>…though, if it comes down to your <<cycle "$weakness" autoselect>> <<option "knowledge of navigation" "navigation">> <<option "knowledge of the mystic arts" "mysticism">> ... <</cycle>>, you may not [[make it through the week.|2.9]] <<elseif $strength is "research" and $secondary is "navigation">>…though, if it comes down to your <<cycle "$weakness" autoselect>> <<option "combat skills" "combat">> <<option "knowledge of the mystic arts" "mysticism">> ... <</cycle>>, you may not [[make it through the week.|2.9]] <<elseif $strength is "research" and $secondary is "mysticism">>…though, if it comes down to your <<cycle "$weakness" autoselect>> <<option "combat skills" "combat">> <<option "knowledge of navigation" "navigation">> ... <</cycle>>, you may not [[make it through the week.|2.9]] <<elseif $strength is "navigation" and $secondary is "combat">>…though, if it comes down to your <<cycle "$weakness" autoselect>> <<option "research skills" "research">> <<option "knowledge of the mystic arts" "mysticism">> ... <</cycle>>, you may not [[make it through the week.|2.9]] <<elseif $strength is "navigation" and $secondary is "research">>…though, if it comes down to your <<cycle "$weakness" autoselect>> <<option "combat skills" "combat">> <<option "knowledge of the mystic arts" "mysticism">> ... <</cycle>>, you may not [[make it through the week.|2.9]] <<elseif $strength is "navigation" and $secondary is "mysticism">>…though, if it comes down to your <<cycle "$weakness" autoselect>> <<option "combat skills" "combat">> <<option "research skills" "research">> ... <</cycle>>, you may not [[make it through the week.|2.9]] <<elseif $strength is "mysticism" and $secondary is "combat">>…though, if it comes down to your <<cycle "$weakness" autoselect>> <<option "research skills" "research">> <<option "knowledge of navigation" "navigation">> ... <</cycle>>, you may not [[make it through the week.|2.9]] <<elseif $strength is "mysticism" and $secondary is "research">>…though, if it comes down to your <<cycle "$weakness" autoselect>> <<option "combat skills" "combat">> <<option "knowledge of navigation" "navigation">> ... <</cycle>>, you may not [[make it through the week.|2.9]] <<elseif $strength is "mysticism" and $secondary is "navigation">>…though, if it comes down to your <<cycle "$weakness" autoselect>> <<option "combat skills" "combat">> <<option "research skills" "research">> ... <</cycle>>, you may not [[make it through the week.|2.9]] <</if>> <<silently>> <<if $strength is "combat">><<set $combat to $combat +4>> <<elseif $strength is "research">><<set $research to $research +4>> <<elseif $strength is "navigation">><<set $navigation to $navigation +4>> <<elseif $strength is "mysticism">><<set $mysticism to $mysticism +4>> <</if>> <<if $secondary is "combat">><<set $combat to $combat +2>> <<elseif $secondary is "research">><<set $research to $research +2>> <<elseif $secondary is "navigation">><<set $navigation to $navigation +2>> <<elseif $secondary is "mysticism">><<set $mysticism to $mysticism +2>> <</if>> <<if $weakness is "combat">><<set $combat to $combat -1>> <<elseif $weakness is "research">><<set $research to $research -1>> <<elseif $weakness is "navigation">><<set $navigation to $navigation -1>> <<elseif $weakness is "mysticism">><<set $mysticism to $mysticism -1>> <</if>><</silently>>

Thank you so much for playing! The Golden Harp is a WIP and new chapters will be released periodically. For updates and more information, or to report any bugs, please visit the [[dev blog!|https://thegoldenharp.tumblr.com]] If you enjoyed playing, please consider supporting my work via [[Ko-fi|https://ko-fi.com/renwritesif]]! Ren ❤

<<if $twotwelve is "graycomfort" or $twotwelve is "grayspace" or $twotwelve is "graytough">>Eventually, someone comes to check on the pair of you<<if $twotwelve is "graytough">> (if the crew member is surprised at the bruises on Gray’s hands, they do a good job of hiding it)<</if>> and you are finally allowed to leave. “So close.” Gray murmurs as you turn to the door. “What?” You cock your head at them, expecting them to repeat the statement or say //something//, but they move towards their desk as if in a daze, and you doubt they’ll hear you now. So you chance your arm and move above deck, only to find Lorcan and Robin locked in debate. <<else>>You’re swept up in the chaos on deck, and it’s only once the shores of Lisbon are out of sight that any of you pause for breath. The minute you pause, Lorcan and Robin launch into a debate. <</if>> “We should head straight for Nassau.” Lorcan is firm, confident as you had always expected a captain to be, not wavering even when Robin shakes their head. “We need supplies – I wasn’t able to get everything before sundown, I needed more time—” “We’ll manage – you did what you could.” Lorcan claps them on the shoulder, though beyond that he continues as if they hadn’t spoken. There is a pause as Robin looks around at the rest of the crew before turning back to Lorcan. “The crew are dead on their feet.” Lorcan pauses for a moment, senses the quiet mumblings of mutiny in the air, and then does something you could never have predicted. He turns to //you//. “Your first taste of power: which way do we go?” Something like lead settles in the pit of your stomach. You take a moment to look at the other crew members and they do…look exhausted. But there is some merit in pressing on, in trying to put as much distance between you and your pursuers as possible. “We should: * <<link "rest a while, and then carry on the course to Nassau in the morning.”" "3.2">><<set $robin++, $gray++>><</link>> * ==press on.”==

A grateful murmur thrums through the crew, and Lorcan purses his lips for a moment, before sucking his teeth. “Well, that’s that. We stop at the first sign of land.” He looks a little reproachful, still, but is genial enough when he turns to one of the crew members. “Get Fairfax - we need a course to Nassau.” When Gray joins you<<if $twotwelve is "graytough">>, hands now securely bandaged<</if>>, they scowl and affect a haughty expression. “What do //you// want?” They glare at Lorcan specifically, now, hazel eyes glinting dangerously in the dying light of day. “We need a course to Nassau, Gray.” Robin’s voice is conciliatory, and Gray’s stony façade wavers. “I //gave// you a course to Nassau already.” A light petulance creeps into their tone, their lower lip jutting as their brow furrows. “We veered off northwards when we were making our escape - could you make the amendments?” “I //could//.” Gray hums, eyeing you thoughtfully. * <<link "Support Robin." "3.3">><<set $threetwo to "robsupport">><<set $robin +=1>><</link>> * <<link "Threaten them." "3.3">><<set $threetwo to "threaten">><<set $gray -=2, $robin -=1, $lorcan +=1>><</link>> * <<link "Smile encouragingly but say nothing." "3.3">><<set $threetwo to "silentsmile">><<set $robin -=1, $gray +=1>><</link>>

<<if $threetwo is "robsupport">>You let your features soften into a smile, and a wheedling tone enters your voice. “Gray, we can’t do it without you.” A light flush appears on their cheeks, and while they don’t seem to try to attract attention with their appearance, they certainly seem pleased with the flattery, preening before their lips purse as they remember Lorcan is there. <<elseif $threetwo is "threaten">>“You have to.” <<if $height is "vtall">>You use your height to its full advantage, towering over them (towering over //everyone//) to lend power to your words. <<elseif $height is "tall">>You’re tall enough to look them in the eye, and you use that to your advantage, staring them down.<<else>>They’re taller than you, sure. But there is something about being swept up in a pirate crew - and having been given your first //taste of power//, the feeling still fizzes in your veins.<</if>> In response, their petulance crystallises to stubbornness, and though Lorcan is a supportive presence at your elbow, you see their eyes harden and their brow furrow. “Shan’t.” “Fairfax—” Lorcan’s voice is low, the warning rumble of thunder, and though they rock back on their heels for a moment, before setting their jaw and crossing their arms across their chest. You get the sense that this is a familiar battle. “Gray.” Robin’s tone is calm but firm, and any fight seeps out of Gray in an instant, and they seem smaller, almost. “Fine.” You notice they speak directly to Robin, and avoid your eye. <<else>>They study your smile, as if trying to parse its meaning - when they have no clues available, they frown slightly, before looking back at Robin with a sigh. <</if>> “I’ll need a few minutes.” From the complexity of the work, you’re surprised they’re talking in terms of minutes rather than hours - and your surprise must show on your face, judging by the muted smugness on theirs. “I’ll prove it.” With no further ceremony, they turn on their heel and stride back to their work station, shadowed always by a member of the crew. As for you, you * <<link "follow Gray inside." "3.4">><<set $threethree to "followgray">><<set $gray+=1>><</link>> * <<link "follow Robin to the group of grumbling crew members." "3.4">><<set $threethree to "followrob">><<set $robin+=1>><</link>> * <<link "follow Lorcan to the ropes." "3.4">><<set $threethree to "followlorcan">><<set $lorcan+=1>><</link>>

<<if $threethree is "followgray">>When you get to Gray’s room, they are shuffling papers on their desk, muttering something about coordinates and running their fingers through the lower part of their ponytail. “Shut up.” * <<link "“What?”" "3.4.1 gray">><<set $threefourgray to "what">><</link>> * <<link "“Excuse me?”" "3.4.1 gray">><<set $threefourgray to "excuse">><</link>> * <<link "Stay silent." "3.4.1 gray">><<set $threefourgray to "silent">><</link>> <<elseif $threethree is "followrob">>All is not well, though, when you approach Robin to find them surrounded by deckhands, all scowling and snarling. “I’m fucking tired, Robin.” The loudest complains, turning and spitting in Lorcan’s direction. “Does he even know where we’re going?” “Yes.” Robin stays calm, serene even against growing pressure, and though they seem sympathetic, you know enough now to know they won’t budge. And it is a testament to Robin’s own standing in the crew that mutinous grumbles is the //only// result of the confrontation, the crew members returning to their tasks in muttering bands of three and four. Robin then seems to remember that you are there, and turns to face you with an open smile. * <<link "“Trouble in paradise?”" "3.4.1 robin">><<set $threefourrobin to "trouble">><<set $robin -=1>><</link>> * <<link "“How are you?” ♡" "3.4.1 robin">><<set $threefourrobin to "rom">><<set $robin +=1, $robinrom +=1>><</link>> * <<link "How are you?”" "3.4.1 robin">><<set $threefourrobin to "concern">><<set $robin +=1>><</link>> <<else>>You find Lorcan busying himself with the ropes and studiously ignoring the filthy glares of exhausted crew members. “Good call.” You start a little at the attempt at a compliment, and you move a little closer to see scarred fingers threading ropes with a dexterity surprising for a man of his bulk. Given recent history (he picks you up and drops you with as much ease), you try to keep your tone as neutral as possible. “You sound surprised.” “Pleasantly so, I assure you.” //His// tone is genial enough, though he does not deign to look at you, and that pricks at your already-bruised ego. “Were you hoping to be rid of me?” You’re not exactly sure what you //had// been expecting him to say, but a resounding //yes// without even looking up was //not// it. There is a stunned silence for a moment, as you process the frank admission and he continues his work, apparently unaware of just what he has said. “Why?” “Because you’re not built for this life.” And finally, //finally//, he turns to look at you, and for all the harshness of the observation, his gaze is resolutely neutral. Dispassionate, even. * <<link "“Hmm. Charming.”" "3.4.1 lorcan">><<set $threefourlorcan to "charmed">><</link>> * <<link "“Oh.” ♡" "3.4.1 lorcan">><<set $threefourlorcan to "oh">><<set $lorcanrom +=1, $lorcan +=1>><</link>> * <<link "“Fuck you.”" "3.4.1 lorcan">><<set $threefourlorcan to "fu">><<set $lorcan +=1>><</link>> * <<link "“Fuck you.” ♡" "3.4.1 lorcan">><<set $threefourlorcan to "furom">><<set $lorcanrom +=1, $lorcan +=1>><</link>> <</if>>

<<if $threefourgray is "what">>You are stunned by the command, but even the basic question seems to enrage them, making them wheel around and stab a long, delicate finger into the centre of your chest. “I //said//, shut //up//. I can’t //think//.” Just as quickly as they had turned to you, they spin away, grumbling to themself. “Even your //breathing// is loud.” You’re not sure what to say to that - and indeed, they give you little chance to respond, sagging to rest on their elbows. <<elseif $threefourgray is "excuse">>Shock doesn’t begin to cover it, though your hackles rise and you feel your whole body tense. That doesn’t stop how you flinch when, after a frustrated growl, they swipe some papers off the desk and brace themself on the desk, knuckles white under the strain. <<else>>Your lips part to respond, but you think better of it, and their heavy breathing is almost deafening in the deathly still. <</if>>“It was so close. //So// close.” Where before they had been defiant, they now sound close to tears, and you drift reflexively closer to them. “What–” “It doesn’t matter.” They mutter, smoothing their waistcoat down. “It was //stupid// anyway - I was stupid to think it.” * <<link "“You’re not stupid.”" "3.4.2 gray">><<set $threefouronegray to "disagree">><<set $gray +=1>><</link>> * <<link "“Don’t say that.” ♡" "3.4.2 gray">><<set $threefouronegray to "romdefend">><<set $gray+=1, $grayrom+=1>><</link>> * <<link "Say nothing." "3.4.2 gray">><<set $threefouronegray to "silent">><</link>>

<<if $threefourlorcan is "charmed">>Despite your displeasure, his smile is genial enough - though his eyes are sharp as ever. “Am I wrong?” The question stumps you, enough that all you can do is shake your head in exasperation. <<elseif $threefourlorcan is "fu">>He smiles at your fire, all while dousing it. “Am I wrong?” The question stumps you, enough that all you can do is shake your head in exasperation. <<else>>Sharp eyes see your disappointment, but his smile is not unkind. “You’ll get over it, sweetheart.” (You don’t think he’s just talking about the recent abandonment.) Muddled, all you can do is shake your head and sigh. <</if>>“What’s the rush, anyway?” To the untrained eye, the navy ship is far behind, and the crew, tired and frustrated though they are, are well-able to keep ahead. Far from smirking in triumph, as you have come to expect, he bares his teeth, smacking his hand down on the railing. “Because that bastard got too close, that’s why.” Before you can ask about //that bastard//, he tuts and looks at the moon, burgeoning on the horizon. “We’re losing the light.” <<if $lorcan gte 3>>His hand on your shoulder is gentle as he moves you to one side, <<else>>He pushes past you impatiently, <</if>>bellowing orders at the crew and you have no choice but to follow him, [[drawn along as if by the tide.|3.5]]

<<if $threefourrobin is "trouble">>At your quip, Robin scowls, the expression foreign on full lips. “We’re fine.” “Yeah, //right//.” Your snort of laughter isn’t meant to be derisive - but it isn’t far off and Robin scowls in answer. Apparently considering the conversation finished, Robin turns away to watch the crew work, eyes narrowing a little at some who seem to be working slower than the others. When the deckhands realise Robin is watching, they quicken their movements. “Why do you follow him, anyway?” The question that has been playing on your mind ever since Lorcan //left you in Lisbon// - though it seems to be the first time that Robin is considering the question, as they pause for a few, perilously tense moments where the only sounds are the deckhands’ grunts and the soft lapping of the waves. “Because. There’s no other place for me.” The sadness on their features makes your heart clench in your chest, and you try in vain to dispel some of the tension. “That’s hardly a ringing endorsement.” They snort at that, turning away to collect themself and when they turn to look over your left shoulder, there is a broad, easy smile on their features again. <<elseif $threefourrobin is "rom">>Robin jerks slightly at your question - and seems unsure of how to answer, tongue darting out to wet their lower lip. When they eventually answer, their voice cracks slightly. “It’s a shitshow.” Their eyes dart nervously around the crew, who still mutter amongst themselves, looking furtively at Robin. //They’re first in the firing line//, you realise with a start. Oh, they will be gunning for Lorcan, but the blaze will consume Robin as well and they //know// it. <<if $touch is "averse">>You //almost// reach out for them, fingers curling around empty air as you falter at the last moment - though they are so troubled they barely notice.<<else>>On impulse, you reach out to them, skin almost burning under your touch - and though they pull away quickly enough, they smile gratefully.<</if>> “Why do you follow him, if this is what you get?” You feel angry for them (even //at// them, unfair as that is - that they would allow themself to be so used), but their sad smile is enough to quell your indignation. At least, for now. “Because he needs me. And I–” They seem to catch themself, rolling their lips together (and //that// hardly helps, being aware of the proximity and the radiating heat from their body). “It doesn’t matter.” You feel your jaw drop, and your voice is over-loud when you answer. “It matters to me.” “That means a lot.” They look away, flustered by your attention - you get the impression that they aren’t used to this kind of attention - and when they look over your shoulder their usual, easy smile is on their features again. <<else>>They seem surprised by the question, though their smile is fixed on their features even as their eyes dart around the deckhands, still muttering in small groups. “I’ll be fine, but thank you.” The lie is almost elegant, delivered with a dazzling smile and you are stunned for a moment before your indignation gets the better of you. “Why do you follow him, if this is what you get?” Their answering smile is sad, almost, and they look over at you thoughtfully. “Because he needs me. And I–” They seem to catch themself, rolling their lips together before looking over your shoulder with their usual, easy smile. Not even a little bit tarnished. <</if>> “Hicks can teach you some basic knots - show you the ropes, if you like.” Hicks groans at the jest, and Robin pleased with themself as they leave you with Hicks - though their shoulders are still stiff with tension as they [[walk away.|3.5]]

<<if $threefouronegray is "disagree">>“You’re not stupid.” Objectively, even after having known them for a matter of days, it’s as much a fact as anything is anymore. They //are// intelligent, and hearing them say otherwise seems almost perverse. It earns you a wet chuckle, and a slight nod as they still face away from you. “Selectively, then. There’s half a hundred words that might fit but–” At this their shoulders sag again, and they shrug listlessly. “None of them matter.” When they turn to you, hazel eyes swimming with unshed tears, you feel your fingers twitch as if to reach for them, but– But before you can, they brush the tears away angrily and scowl. “Give me half an hour and I’ll have his damn charts.” <<elseif $threefouronegray is "romdefend">>The vehemence in your tone seems to shock them, and when they look at you, hazel eyes swimming, their cheeks darken and they hum thoughtfully. “You’re too kind.” They offer with a wet chuckle - and it sounds like it is more than a platitude from them, and you cock your head slightly. They seem to expect unkindness, or at least neglect. Gray shakes their head to break any spell, though the smile still lingers on their lips. “I’ll have his charts within the hour.” Their tone, however soft, is final, and you have still been effectively dismissed. <<else>>You say nothing, still stunned by their sudden change in demeanour, and then again when they let out a weary sigh and collect themself. “Give me half an hour and I’ll have his damn charts.” The answer is weak, even to your ears. <</if>> They gesture to the door, and it shuts behind you before you think to query them - normally, you’ve heard, it takes half a day or more, [[and the day is almost done as it is.|3.5]]

The work is menial, numbing, and the next time you look up, less than an hour has passed and Gray, true to their word, thrusts the prepared charts into Lorcan’s waiting hand. Lorcan’s tone is affable enough, distracted as he flicks through the charts. “Pleasure as always, Fairfax.” “Go fuck yourself.” If Lorcan is as surprised by you at Gray’s crude language, he doesn’t show it - indeed, the answer seems to please him, his smile broadening. Or, perhaps that is simply the quality of the work, precise and detailed, with looping cursive script and diamond-straight lines. Lorcan strides over to the crew member at the helm, gesturing and relaying the coordinates. They nod at his direction, giving Gray a sarcastic salute, and though you’re not near enough to hear Gray, you can’t imagine that what they are muttering under their breath is fit for polite society. And together, the air simmering with tension, you sail into the night, the inky darkness welcoming you in and [[swallowing you whole.|3.6]]

You’re still awake, restless and startling at every shifting shadow, when the watchman calls out, hours earlier than you’d expected. Like the rest of the crew, you stumble out of your room, shirt half-tucked and struggling with your right boot and meet Gray who, while still looking impeccable, seems dazed, as if the thought that their coordinates were wrong has set the globe off-kilter. You wonder for a moment if they have //ever// been wrong. Lorcan seems just as blind-sided. “What the //fuck// is //that//?” He points a finger in the centre of Gray’s chest, hard enough to make them stumble slightly, but they straighten their spine and glare back. “//What//?” “//That//.” Points at the island on the horizon, imposing with jagged promontories and sea stacks and– And //nowhere// on the map that Lorcan has clutched, crumpled in a powerful grip. “I–” They look lost, and perhaps it is that that makes Lorcan’s gaze soften, just a little. “They don’t just sprout like daisies, Fairfax.” “I //know//, I–” Their breathing quickens as their eyes scan the horizon, still disbelieving, and they barely register Robin’s presence at their elbow until Robin lays a comforting hand on their shoulder. “Easy.” Gray’s breathing calms a little at the intervention, though their eyes are still slightly wild when they try to smile gratefully at Robin. “Then this is perfect.” Ever the optimist, Robin addresses Lorcan but speaks loudly enough that most of the crew can hear. “We’ll stop here for supplies, and then head on to Nassau like you planned.” Lorcan’s grateful nod is the nearest thing to softness you’ve seen from him, and [[the crew seem mollified as well.|3.7]]

The Golden Harp starts approaching the island, and you’re no expert but this seems– wrongwrongwrongwrongwrong– The word echoes in your mind, howled into the void, and all you can think, with a sinking stomach, is that you had thought your waking moments were sacred, at least. After a short time, the ship is anchored and the lifeboats are prepared. (Gray takes one look at the lifeboat, and the distance to shore, and turns around to return to their quarters. Lorcan seems ambivalent at best - a far cry from his previous caution, but you suppose it would be improbable that Gray could manhandle the whole ship themself.) You sail out on a sea of ink, almost viscous under the auspices of night, and the building of the crew’s camp soon chases the darkness away, flickering firelight revealing curious vegetation and curling vines. A quick look to the stony shore shows Robin still marshalling the crew, while Lorcan looks at the moon, chiselled marble and night-stained hair. He’s handsome. The observation drops into your mind as if from shadow, and you scowl a little at the further invasion. You decide to play them at their own game. Shut up. Laughter that you cannot quite parse (sneering? sympathetic?), before their voice takes on a wheedling tone. Like you hadn’t thought it. * <<link "“Shut //up//.” ♡O" "3.7.1">><<set $threeseven to "otherrom">><<$otherrom++>><</link>> * <<link "“Shut //up//.” ♡L" "3.7.1">><<set $threeseven to "lorcanrom">><<$lorcanrom++>><</link>> * <<link "“Pfft.”" "3.7.1">><<set $threeseven to "doubt">><</link>> * <<link "“Don’t do that.”" "3.7.1">><<set $threeseven to "boundaries">><</link>>

<<if $threeseven is "otherrom">>You’re not sure you like the thought of them delving into //that// part of your mind, particularly when– I will be quiet as a church mouse, sweetness. Their “voice”, such as it is, is quiet, almost sombre, and for once you believe them. //Sweetness//. The word makes your cheeks heat and you swallow uncomfortably as you shift in your bedroll. <<elseif $threeseven is "lorcanrom">>Your cheeks heat at the thought that //that// part of your mind is open to them, and– Your secret is safe with me, sweetness. Their “voice”, such as it is, takes on a sing-song quality, and you scowl as you shift uncomfortably in your bedroll. <<elseif $threeseven is "doubt">>You smirk slightly at the more comforting realisation that not //all// of your thoughts are open to their gaze, if they think you're attracted to Lorcan fucking Crowe. Try again. Your tone is a little smug, even if the fact that you’re having a conversation with the voice in your head is absurd. Fuck you. The irritation in their voice is all the compensation you need, and it is with a smirk that you snuggle into your bed roll. <<else>>Panic rises in the back of your throat at the thought that even your most private thoughts may be as visible to them as an open book, and when your breathing starts to quicken you feel them again, trying to calm you. I’m trying. I promise. The short staccato of their words, as if they are trying to say as little as possible, does little to soothe you as you shift restlessly in your bed roll. <</if>> You close your eyes and [[see them again.|3.8]]

And again, the scene has changed. This time, far from being shrouded in shadows, they are kneeling in a grove, filled with flowers you could not hope to recognise, all looping vines and vibrant colours. And through the haze of mist that curls around them, they are beautiful, long, blood-red hair streaming past their shoulders and resting against their plump frame. High cheekbones and forest-green eyes and– You are staring. As well you should. “Hello, again.” Their greeting is knowing, as so much else, but there seems to be a tension as they watch you watching them, eyes fixed to your face as if waiting for your reaction. “You look– * <<link "beautiful.” ♡" "3.8.1">><<set $threeeight to "beautiful">><<set $otherrom +=1>><</link>> * <<link "different.”" "3.8.1">><<set $threeeight to "different">><</link>>

<<if $threeeight is "beautiful">>A flush stains creamy, pale skin and they avoid your eye, apparently flustered by your attention. “Flatterer.” Don’t stop. The whisper lingers, a plea in the back of your mind, and you feel a shiver run through your frame even as they collect themself and look warily at you. <<else>>They preen a little under your attention (though in truth, you’re not sure yourself whether you meant it as a compliment), before seeming to remember something that makes them stop abruptly and look warily at you. <</if>> “Now, //don’t// panic.” They speak as if to a child, words enunciated and hands (//hands//, and it is still bizarre to see them here, fleshy and real and illusory all at once) raised to mollify. “Seriously?” You think your eyebrow might have been raised, but it is hard to tell where your body starts in this space. “Yes, //seriously//. Grow up.” They give a good impression of being bored, though they still stand from their grove and walk to you, azure monkshood sprouting where their bare feet touch the grass, white robes trailing after them. When they reach you, they make to reach for you, before pulling back at the last moment. <<if $otherrom gte 3>>(You feel regret coil and hiss in your stomach, unbidden and only maybe unwelcome.) <</if>>“What do you know of the //lyngbakr//?” <<if $research gte 2.5 and $research lte 3.9>>You’ve definitely heard of it. You //know// you have, but between the surreality of your dream and the way your world is constantly off-kilter, the knowledge lingers stubbornly out of reach. “It’s from Iceland, I know that.” Your floundering makes them pinch the bridge of their nose. <<elseif $research gte 4>>...oh, //shit//. The //illhveli// were only thought to be myths, platitudes to soothe those that sought a reason for the ocean’s rage, but– Funnily enough, you find yourself more amenable than before to the idea of a world beyond your comprehension. “The island–” <<else>>You blow out your cheeks, shrugging while you let loose a sigh. It’s not any language you speak, and you’ve never needed to know before. Mind you, there are a //lot// of things you’ve never needed to know before that are being forced on you on this voyage. <</if>>“You have to //go//, sweetling. Get to the lifeboats as fast as you can.” They are solemn, forest green eyes boring into you. * <<link "“Why are you helping me?”" "3.8.2">><<set $threeeightone to "why">><<set $otherrel +=1>><</link>> * <<link "“How do I know I can trust you?”" "3.8.2">><<set $threeeightone to "how">><</link>> * <<link "“Thank you.”" "3.8.2">><<set $threeeightone to "thanks">><</link>>

Their laugh is musical, almost, and when you look at them there is a mix of sympathy and condescension in their gaze that makes your cheeks heat. <<if $threeeightone is "thanks">>Their voice takes on a sing-song quality, even as they step back and retreat back to their grove. “Don’t thank me yet - you’re still headed to a watery doom.” <<else>>“Because for better or worse, I live here too, sweetling.” The laugh stills on their lips, though it is still with a slight smile that they address you next. <</if>>“Try not to die, won’t you?” [[That would be nice, yes.|3.9]]

<<timed 1s t8n>> When you wake, your first thought is that you need to find Robin, who had been due to lead a foraging expedition with a small group of sailors. <<next>>And instead of being able to warn the rest of the crew, you wake up with a dagger pressed to your throat. <<next>>//Again.// <<next>>Your assailant’s face is close to yours, too close to pick out individual features, though their eyes glint amber in the dying embers of the campfire near you. One long finger presses to plush lips, and the dagger stays firm at your throat in their other hand. <<next>>...it’s not like you have a choice, [[is it?|3.10]] <</timed>>

Seemingly content that you won’t cry out, they rock back on their heels to reveal the unmistakable burnished gold buttons and stiff, white waistcoat of a naval officer, and your heart plummets into the base of your stomach. “I need you to take me to L–to Crowe.” Far from the harsh, calculated competence you had been warned of by the other crew members, your assailant threads the fingers of his free hand through golden locks as if to calm his nerves. “Why?” Curiosity outweighs your previous urgency (and if the presence in your mind huffs dramatically at that, you choose to ignore them for now), and you look up at him when his hand trembles slightly and you swallow thickly. “I have to.” Seems to regain control of himself, at least for a moment, and his tone sharpens. “//You// have to.” * <<link "Stay silent." "3.10.1">><<set $threeten to "silent">><<set $anthony +=1>><</link>> * <<link "“Alright.”" "3.10.1">><<set $threeten to "ok">><<set $anthony +=1>><</link>>

<<if $threeten is "silent">>For a moment, the silence hangs heavy in the dark, before he stands and gestures for you to do the same. <<else>>“Alright.” The echo is grateful in the dark, and he moves back to allow you to stand. There is a small, peaceful pause for a moment before he speaks, breath brushing against your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I–I have to.” “It’s ok.” //You// are reassuring the man with a knife to your throat - and yet, there is something vulnerable about him, and you think that you might be able to convince him, somehow. His heart isn’t in it.<</if>> “So…” You pitch your voice low, but even that small intrusion on the silence makes him start, and you wait for him to calm before you begin again. <<if hasVisited("2.10.6 combatpartake" or "2.10.1 combatobserve")>>“You were looking for him in Lisbon.” He hums in agreement, somewhere close to your ear. “And you all but led me straight to him.” “How?” If you could, you would turn your head to stare - but he is talking now, and that’s progress you don’t want to stymie. <<if $twotenfourcombatobserve is "truth">>“The Hereward. A quick lie, but a bad one. The ship had been overrun with pirates two years ago and hasn’t yet made her re-entry.” //Shit//. You knew there had been a reason you remembered it - but you could not have guessed that it would have been nearly fatal. It may //yet// be fatal, if he catches up to Lorcan. It may yet be fatal anyway, as well you know. Their voice is peevish, almost, and you purse your lips. <<elseif $twotensixonecombatpartake is "truth">>“The Hereward. A quick lie, but a bad one. The ship had been overrun with pirates two years ago and hasn’t yet made her re-entry.” //Shit//. You knew there had been a reason you remembered it - but you could not have guessed that it would have been nearly fatal. It may //yet// be fatal, if he catches up to Lorcan. It may yet be fatal anyway, as well you know. Their voice is peevish, almost, echoing in your mind, and you purse your lips. <<else>>At this you can practically //hear// the smile in his voice. “You were so transparent, it was almost endearing.” You walk a few more steps before he continues. “You need a better lie next time - no merchant’s child would be in a back alley in rags.” Well, that’s told //you//, hasn’t it. <</if>>“That, and he always does that.” You wish you could see his face, but the dagger is still at your throat, even if its tip does not press so firmly, and you don’t want to risk it. “Does what?” “Sends new recruits off by themselves. If they get back to the ship, they’re competent. If not…” //Well, then.// You’re not sure if that’s better or not. <<else>>“You know him, then.” Something obvious to ease his nerves, and you watch the grip on the knife loosen a little. “Yes.” If you didn't know better, you might think his voice sounds rough. Raw. “I’ve been looking for him for a while now. We couldn’t ignore the tip-off.” The thought that someone might have betrayed you is– …honestly not that surprising, given the reputation Lorcan seems to have cultivated, but alarm builds in the back of your throat nonetheless. “Who–” The tip of the dagger pressing a little more firmly to your throat silences any questions. “Does it matter?” You suppose not. <</if>>“What’s your name?” Curiosity gets the better of you again, and for a moment you think he won’t answer. But he’s a gentleman, this officer, and he cannot resist the invitation. “Lieutenant Meverell. And you are–” “$surname.” The chuckle sounds rusty in his throat, as if he is not used to it. [[“Charmed.”|3.11]]

You come into view of the main camp with the dagger still pressed to your throat - though you have a little more faith that he–//Meverell//, and it helps to think of him like that–won’t use it. At the first sight of Lorcan, though, the dagger shifts in Meverell’s grip, and you swallow reflexively. And any hope that you had had of a peaceful resolution dies half-formed the moment Lorcan lays eyes on the pair of you. “You //swine//–” Lorcan surges to his feet, and though his eyes flick to you briefly his attention is firmly fixed over your shoulder, face mottled with anger and the shadows from the dying fire stark against his skin, eyes consuming pits of //rage//. “Lorcan–” A warning tone enters Robin’s voice as their eyes //do// meet yours, and Lorcan //does// still a moment, every muscle coiled like a cat waiting to pounce. The dagger at your throat quivers. <<timed 2s t8n>>And then <<next>>everything <<next>>[[shifts.|3.12]]<</timed>>

The ground beneath you starts to rumble, vibrating under your feet enough to make Meverell take a step back to avoid slitting your throat - which is just as well, as you all hurry to cover your ears at the shriek of //something//, some creature closeby, and– And then //your// feet are moving, your stance widening as your feet start to move away from each other to reveal– An eye. Black and baleful and you are //standing on an eye//. For a moment you stare at each other, you and the eye at your feet, and then everything happens at once. From the west of the island there are panicked cries as the sea stacks rise from the water– //Teeth//. Fuck, they’re its //teeth//. A hand grasps at your elbow, <<if $touch is "averse">>and though ordinarily you would shrug the touch off automatically, now <</if>>you look to your right to see <<cycle "$threetwelvedrag" autoselect>> <<option "Meverell" "anthony">> <<option "Robin" "robin">> <<option "Lorcan" "lorcan">> … <</cycle>> dragging you to the shore, [[where the lifeboats wait.|3.13]]

Once you are in the lifeboat, <<if $threetwelvedrag is "anthony">>Meverell releases your elbow with a flush, looking out instead slack-jawed to the “island”.<<elseif $threetwelvedrag is "robin">>Robin releases your elbow with a smile, and once again it is //nice// to have someone who cares that you are alive here.<<else>>Lorcan’s grip on your elbow remains tight as he studies the “island”, muttering softly under his breath in a language you don’t understand.<</if>> The “island” seems distracted enough with its current prey, and the navy ship that had used the sea stacks to hide from the Harp’s scouts is crushed to splinters in the creature’s jaws. (You are grateful that it is dark, else the blood might be thrown into sharper relief.) A quiet noise of despair to your left is the only sound Meverell makes, though his face is horror-struck, knuckles white against the side of the boat as if he means to dive back in. It is only the hand at his wrist that stills him– And it is only //then// that you realise that the lifeboats are [[filled with navy men, too.|3.14]]

Back on deck, the navy men and the pirates stand in an uneasy silence - both too shocked to be hostile to their natural enemies, both too aware of what horrors may follow. Distrustful, yet tolerant for now. All except for Lorcan, who has been reunited with his trusty pistol and whose eyes are bright with something too wild to be simple anger. Meverell faces him unarmed, his expression unreadable, and they make quite the pair, the lieutenant gleaming under moonlight and the captain swallowing shadows whole. A flash of gold and emerald streaks past you, and you had //never// thought Gray that bold but– <<timed 4s t8n>>But when they barrel into Meverell, they wrap their arms around his neck to //hug// him, [[and he is only too happy to return it.|3.15]]<</timed>>

Everyone else stands spellbound for a moment, and though Meverell raises his head to study Lorcan, Gray keeps their head tucked in the crook of Meverell’s neck and shows no sign of raising it. You can practically //see// the cogs in Lorcan’s brain turn and whirl. “Siblings.” He concludes, eyes narrowed as he crosses his arms. Not quite a battle pose, but not far off<<if $gray gte 2>>, and your chest squeezes painfully at the thought of Gray being caught in the crossfire<</if>>. “Cousins.” You think this might be the first time you’ve heard Gray speak civilly to Lorcan, and the pleased glint in their eyes at being reunited with Meverell softens their usual disdain. Lorcan’s still furious, that is obvious enough, though it is with great effort that he bites out the words, “Fine. Then you can both be our guests - take him to the hold, and Fairfax back to their chambers.” Gray is bundled back to their chambers, and Meverell shrugs off Hicks’ attempt to lead him away, walking with his head held high. The navy men look stunned - but you note that they don’t leap to defend Meverell, and when Lorcan addresses them directly they are quiet and attentive enough. “You’re free to stay for a wage and share of the spoils,” Lorcan spreads his hands, the very image of magnanimity, “or you can take one of the lifeboats and chance your arm out //there//.” Just under half of them stay–likely also remembering that //out there// is the //lyngbakr// and cold nights and empty bellies–while the rest pile into lifeboats and begin the long row back to Lisbon. Lorcan nods, apparently satisfied for now, and stalks back inside alone. You * <<link "walk with Robin." "3.16">><<set $threefifteen to "robin">><<set $robin+=1>><</link>> * <<link "go to find Gray." "3.16">><<set $threefifteen to "gray">><<set $gray+=1>><</link>> * <<link "look out at the burgeoning dawn." "3.16">><<set $threefifteen to "theother">><<set $otherrel+=1>><</link>>

<<if $threefifteen is "robin">>When you catch up with Robin, who is already making the rounds among new recruits, a familiar, broad smile is on their features. “What was //that//?” Once again curiosity seizes you, sharpening your voice to a whisper that you hope is subtle enough to go unheard. Though their expression does not change, their voice is low and flat, burdened and so very tired. “//That// is his past coming back to bite us.” “What do you mean?” For once, you feel anger rise in the back of your throat as you just wish someone would tell you what the //fuck// is going on. All Robin can do is shrug. “He never told me the details - but when we were last in Saint-Jean-de-Luz, the navy caught him. Nearly put him to death, but we–//he// had some contacts, and we sprung him at the last minute. All I can assume is that the Lieutenant is connected to that.” Your mind whirrs for a moment as it turns this new information over, this way and that - and though you do not yet have all the pieces, the fact that Robin will not meet your eye and excuses themself so abruptly all but confirms that there is more //there// than they have said. <<link "What //else// is new." "3.17">><</link>> <<elseif $threefifteen is "gray">>In the hold of the ship, Gray is firmly back in their confinement, and there are now //two// crew members outside their chambers. These ones are a little less open to the thought of you entering, though even they roll their eyes after a moment and let you in. Though Gray is back inside, a golden light hidden under a bushel, they don’t seem to care, a broad grin from ear to ear. They are quite beautiful, hair unbound for once and streaming past their shoulders. “I //knew// he would come for me, I prayed and prayed–” Looped around delicate fingers, you spy a Marian Cross medal of fine silver, which they quickly hide in their waistcoat with a tight smile. “So…cousins?” You feel your eyebrow lift, and Gray seems grateful to talk about their would-be saviour all over again. “Our mothers are sisters - my mother’s the beauty, but his won the better match.” Gray’s tone is matter-of-fact, almost distractingly so, and you watch them run their ribbon through their fingers a few more times before you venture another question. “Were you close?” Now that you’ve asked, the curiosity is corrosive, and you shift a little closer to them as they mull it over. “Not until…four? Maybe five years ago.” From their effusive greeting, you would have been forgiven for thinking that the pair of them had been inseparable since birth - but apparently not, and you study them as they continue. “He came back from a naval outpost in France, and he was working in the administrative corps in London, where I was studying at the time.” “Hmm.” Your tone is neutral, though your mind is racing as you try to piece together the tapestry of their lives, golden and marble and ivory and– And they turn back to their desk, and [[you think you should go.|3.17]] <<else>> My, my, and you are getting rather good at this - pretending that nothing is amiss when //they// speak to you, you do see the most interesting things. “Do I?” You murmur to yourself, quietly enough that no-one hears you amid the seafoam and the susurrus of the waves. The tension was so thick that–oh you are so oblivious. They are exasperated, that much you can tell, and you shake your head. “The lieutenant wouldn’t risk it.” Meverell had too much to lose, and Lorcan– You knew well enough that he would not abide a noose. Love makes us do stupid things, sweetling. Sadness tinges their tone, and you feel them withdraw [[before you can ask them more.|3.17]] <</if>>

You walk, then, to the captain’s quarters, feel the corridor stretch just as before, and the open door reveals Lorcan standing with his arm braced against the wooden wall. “I knew he’d find me.” His voice sounds dead, raspy and stiff in his throat, and you can’t tell if he knows you’re there. “How do you know each other?” The question is weak even to your own ears, and though he laughs, the sound is entirely without mirth, mere mechanics as he opens and closes his mouth as if he isn’t sure how to answer the question. “Doesn’t matter now.” Something hardens there, crystallises into resolve as he pushes away from the wall and wheels around. “I want him off my fucking ship.” And there is something inexorable about him, a tidal wave as he pushes past you and continues down the corridor. “Lorcan, //wait//–” You follow him (or try to, at least) and try to grab onto his arm - but he dislodges you easier than breathing and slams the door open, and all you can do is [[follow him in.|3.18]]

Robin hovers anxiously nearby with a bloodied washcloth as Meverell hurriedly replaces his shirt, white linen slipping over golden skin. “Get him off.” Lorcan snarls at Robin, not even acknowledging Meverell’s existence<<if $threefifteen is "robin">>, and now you //know// that Robin all but lied by omission. What you’re //not// sure of is if they knew at the time, and you won’t find out now as they slip out of the room.<<else>>, and Robin’s eyes are as wide as yours must be as they slip out of the room.<</if>> Meverell, for his part, simply stands and stares at Lorcan, the muscle in his jaw feathering. Then, he ventures, “Lorc–” “Don’t you //fucking// dare.” And there is //venom//, acrid and vicious, in Lorcan’s tone as he jabs a finger at Meverell. “Fucking //snake//, couldn’t //wait// to get me yourself–” “Do you understand what they would have done to you?” Meverell blanches as he stands, knuckles white on the cot for support–but he //does// stand, filling the space even without his uniform. His voice is incredulous, and he leans over Lorcan for a moment, who looks //angry// at the fact he has to look //up//. “Garrington would have paraded you through the streets for sport - //Haxton// wanted you to carry your own guts in your hands.” At the thought, he seems to deflate, sagging back onto the makeshift bed. “I wanted to spare you that.” Lorcan doesn’t speak, and doesn’t speak, and doesn’t speak, only looks up and furrows his brow, half a hundred things stuck on the tip of his tongue. Eventually, a scowl breaks through the storm of confusion and his jaw sets. “Satisfy your own guilt, more like.” “I would //never//.” Even seated, there is a power in Meverell’s presence when he spits the words back, with as much venom as Lorcan had. The silence lingers, thick enough to choke in, until Lorcan lets loose an explosive sigh. “I want you gone.” Even after everything, Meverell still flinches at the starkness of the words in the barren space, before straightening his spine. “I’m not leaving Gray now.” Lorcan swears <<if $language is "multi">>in Gaelic<<else>>in a language you don’t understand<</if>>, before rubbing a hand over a stubbled jaw. “Fine. But you’ll not leave this hold.” “Fine.” Meverell’s jaw is still stubbornly set, but his shoulders sag the moment Lorcan turns away, and you * <<link "stay with Meverell." "3.19">><<set $threeeighteen to "stayanthony">><<$anthony++>><</link>> * <<link "follow Lorcan." "3.19">><<set $threeeighteen to "followlorcan">><<$lorcan++>><</link>>

<<if $threeeighteen is "stayanthony">>“I don’t know what I expected.” The admission is quiet, still in the aftermath, and you cannot help yourself. “What hap–” “Don’t.” The answer is immediate, let out on a bone-crushing sigh. “Please. Not tonight. Or,” he stops, apparently realising that the night has come and gone like sand through an hourglass, “//today//.” You nod, because what else can you do? As you turn to leave, he murmurs as if in a daze. “Thank you, $surname.” You let your lips curve into a small smile. “Not at all, Meverell.” The wood of the door handle is soft, worn against the pads of your fingers, when he speaks again. “Anthony. My name is Anthony.” “I’m $firstname.” And the air is thick with something you could almost taste, but instead you clear your throat. “Well, take care, Anthony.” <<link "“And you, $firstname.”" "3.20">><</link>> <<else>>Lorcan’s strides are quicker than you could hope to follow, and you watch as he reaches his quarters and slams the door behind him. (If you’d been a few seconds faster, it would have broken your nose.) A few seconds of silence hang fragile as crystal in the air, before you hear a bear’s bellow as he swipes objects from his desk, sending them crashing on the floor. Repeats the action a few more times, and by now you think that everything must be strewn on the ground. And then there are quiet sobs from the inside, muffled by what you think may be his hand over his mouth. //Leave him be//. The advice comes in a sombre whisper, and you follow it, follow //them// and [[leave him alone in the dark.|3.20]] <</if>>

By mid-morning, the navy men have been integrated well enough into the crew, and have already found they have more in common with their former foes than with their navy overlords. “Meverell was better than most.” A skinny lad (Belgrave, you remember he introduced himself to you with a broad grin that sought to lighten the shadows of watching the Guillemot crushed to splinters) tries to defend his former lieutenant, but is quickly shouted down. “His halo’s slipped more than once,” one argues, and some of the older men nod sagely at the observation, barely reacting when Belgrave’s chest puffs and he draws himself up to an impressive height– Only to be shoved over by a shorter, but infinitely burlier man, rippling with muscles and a cruel look in snake-green eyes. “He’s–” “A man worthy of respect.” Robin’s normally-genial face and tone are hard as iron, and the navy men stop instantly. “I will not tolerate dissent and calumny on this ship. Do you understand?” Most of the men nod, though the man with snake-green eyes (you remember that he purposefully did not introduce himself to you, lip curling in a sneer when you gave him your name), remains stubbornly silent. Robin draws themself up to their full height and //scowls//. “I //said//, do you understand?” “//I// don’t take orders from //you//.” The man may have to crane his neck to meet Robin’s gaze, but the derision in his eyes is unmistakable as he spits at their feet. <<timed 3s t8n>>The entire crew falls silent, [[watching for Robin’s reaction.|3.21]]<</timed>>

Before they can react, a bullet flies over the heads of those assembled and Lorcan<<if $threeeighteen is "followlorcan">> (now evidently recovered)<</if>> grinds out a warning. “You disrespect them, you disrespect me.” Expert fingers replace the flint in one of the pistol’s barrels, before readying the weapon again. “Just because they’re too civilised to treat you like the scum you are, doesn’t mean I am.” Green Eyes scoffs, and spits again at the deck. “You pirates are all the same. Fucking animals” This time, Lorcan aims closer to the man’s foot, the bullet skimming the ground and ricocheting into the side of the ship. “Yield, or you’re whale food.” A ripple of anxiety passes through the assembled crew at the memory of their most recent encounter with what could charitably be termed a whale, but the man simply smirks and holds out powerful arms in a show of mock vulnerability. “Make me.” And //this// time, the bullet bursts through the man’s knee, blood blooming out the side as Lorcan places the pistol in its holster and begins to walk towards the man, dark promise in his eyes as he watches him squirm, almost biting through his lip to suppress a cry of pain. “Yield.” You’re not sure if the man deserves credit, but though pain wracks his brow, his jaw is set firm. “Fuck you.” Lorcan hauls him to the railings with one hand - and you can scarcely calculate the //strength// that must entail. He pushes Green Eyes against a point in the railings that is a little lower than the rest - normally meant for sliding bundles of grain over the top, this is a very different bundle. The seconds drag as Lorcan studies him, waiting for some sign that he will change his mind. Receiving none, only a stony-eyed stubbornness, he pushes him overboard. There is something wild in his eyes, the green flaring under the morning sun as he challenges the rest. “Anyone else?” [[Silence, like you’ve never known.|End of Demo]]