It's been almost an hour since the tussle with the Hand of Despair and you're still in the Lower Depths, in the "loving" embrace of a mammoth sky squid.
Kale, how's The Owl holding up so far?
Captain Vance, what did you see happen to the Hand of Despair at the very last before the mists clouded your view?
Let's see a new part of the ship. Where are you two at right now? First to answer calls it, of course.
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I'm on my hands an knees in one a the cupboards of the mess hall. I'm movin jagged utensils an dented cans an jars of pickled ... actually, ya don't wanna know--along with other foodstuffs tryin to find the linens we had back here.
Snargs might get mad at me fer scroungin about in the cupboards after she ordered everythin so nice since the last time--but it'll be worth it iffn I find what I'm lookin fer.
I was able ta get the jury-rigged vent shafts pointin back where they should be. The Owl won't be makin much hairpin turns for a bit, but we also won't be freezin to death. Even so, the steam's takin a while ta heat up pretty much everywhere but the engine room. It's cold enough up here that I can see my breath smokin in the light a my gas-torch.
Cyrus is walking through the hallways of The Owl, mostly just to have something to do.
I wonder if he's gone? he thinks. Right before The Owl got pulled under, Cyrus saw the giant tentacle of a sky squid cut a swath in the Hand of Despair that no ship should be able to survive. I've wanted him gone for so long, but now that it's happened it feels a bit empty. I hated him, but now it really is just me...
As these thoughts weigh on Cyrus, he walks into the mess hall and sees Kale scrounging through various cupboards. Shaking the cobwebs out of his brain, he says "Hey there, Kale. D'ja ever think we'd end up down here?"
I grab holda somethin soft--or softish, it's a bit scratchy iffn I'm honest--and yank it out from the cupboards.
Gotcha, ya damned bastard! I say an hold up the extra blankets I hid down in the mess hall fer jus such an occasion. "Blankets" bein a bit generous, some have call em "rags," but these is what kept me n Drabbler warm when we hadda live out on the cold streets from time ta time.
That sense a accomplishment is fleetin--as per usual--when the pile a pots, pans, and very breakable plates n such comes crashin out at my feet.
That's just about the time the Cap walks in, of course.
I fold up the blankets into a ball an hold em over my heart. I smile at the Cap, tryin not to look too guilty bout them plates.
Heya, Cap! Nah, I ain't so surprised. Been forced down here once or twice avoidin the brass-beaters. Never in the arms of a sky-damned Sky Squid I'll admit. Could be worse though, right?
I shuffle the bits a porcelain back into the cupboard wit my boot. I'll clean that up later. Or get Snargs to do it. Then I head over to the ice box--though it's gettin cold enough that the whole of the mess hall could keep our drinks cold.
Want me ta fixya up somethin ta drink, Cap? I could brew up a coffee, though we're a bit low. Course there's always the harder stuff iffn ya'd rather take a bit a the edge off.
With a chuckle Cyrus says "The hard stuff'll do nicely right now, m'friend."
He drops into a chair and leans back, letting out a grunt. "It's all been a bit nonstop, hasn't it, as of late?" Cyrus lets out a deep sigh. "I could use a nice lil' slowdown. Maybe take a break after this one, eh?"
I throw the blanket over my shoulder an grab the jug of Grease Whisky. I find two glasses an wipe em down with the tail a my shirt--I think this used to be the white one--an have a seat cross from my Cap. I fill em half up.
Nonstop's the nice way a sayin so. Can't remember a job's made my life flash afore my eyes half so often.
I take the glass with the white hairline crack down the side an hold it up for a toast.
I like that notion though. To slowdowns.
"To slowdowns!" Cyrus says, as he knocks back the whisky.
He grabs the bottle off the table and pours himself and Kale another shot each.
"So, friend. As long as we're in a slowin' down sort of mood, what d'ya think could make ya give up tha life?"
I do all I can not ta laugh. Seein that the Cap ain't kiddin helps keep em down.
Can't see much'd make me give this up.
I spread my hands across the table an wink at the Cap. I smile more warm this time then look down at my glass.
By my count I lived too mucha my life down there in the mud an rocks an shit. Too much time bein spit on when my hand was palm up, then gettin bloodied when they caught my hand in their pocket.
Down on them rocks is too many people that have too mucha what they don't need, but they still wouldn't give ya a halfpenny if you was starvin on their boot. They don't have no problems givin out orders though. Do this an you can eat today. Don't do this and you can come in from the cold for a night.
Nah, give me the sky any day. Up here not havin nothin means we blend right in wit the nothin around us.
I look back up at the Cap.
I can live wit nothin long as you're here ta share it wit.
I look away again.
... You an Snargs I mean.
Cyrus stares at nothing, lost in thought, after Kale finishes.
"Ya know I think yer right about all'a that in my heart of hearts, Kale. But lately... I dunno."
Cyrus takes another drink.
"Lately I been thinkin' that when we drop off Blackbird the Owl's just gonna feel... empty? She and Bishop have livened up the place a bit, ya think?"
I'll raise a cup ta that.
And I do jus that, right afore downin it.
Bishop sorta scares me ta be honest. Jus glad she's on our side.
The Lady's nicer than I woulda thought. She's teachin me about this Void stuff even though she don't havta.
I'm kinda sad for her though.
I pour us nother round.
I served with Captain Flint for a bit, as ya know. Never got the hint he was the marryin type. Firebloods, they say, burn ya up but seldom with their flames.
But whadda I know? I gotta load a experience lovin who I ain't supposta. Why not let others make the same mistake?
I take my shot.
"Bishop is tough. Tough and good. If'n she ain't on yer side, you'd respect her even as she breaks yer neck. If'n she is, ya than yer stars." Cyrus smiles. "In some ways, not that diff'rent than Snargs and yerself."
A long pause as Cyrus stares off into nothing.
"Lovin' who you're not suppos'ta, huh?"
Another long pause. More shots poured.
"Tell me more about Flint. What's he like?"
My cheeks are burnin when Cap pours more shots talkin about who I'm lovin or not. I bite my tongue in the literal sense and look every where else.
I gotta take that shot afore my heart pops in my chest.
Flint's ok. One a the best captain's I served under, till you an me met up a course.
I smile at the Cap maybe longer than I shoulda. The room's spinnin a little. Might wanna start slowin down on the shots.
He an Tansy were old buddies. Word was he was the one that introduced her to the squid that kissed her in their young days. Me an my own old buddy, Drabbler, ended up on Flint's crew as some sort a payment Tansy owed.
Might still be there too iffn I didn't disagree wit some a his choices.
He'd take any job. An as the self-styled Pirate King he got the pick of the litter. Meanin he didn't have to take the dirty jobs, the ones that ended bloody--but he often did. Maybe it were jus the Fireblood, but I got the feelin he had a mean streak he jus knew howta hide.
After one job in particular I told him in no uncertain terms that I ... well I disagreed.
I quit yappin for a second and swallow. Probably said more than I shoulda. Again. Hopefully Cap won't ask about that little incident.
To his credit, most captains woulda kicked me down the plank for that, but he jus threw me in the brig and dumped me at the next port.
Even gave me some change an a pat on the head. Can't help but respect the man, even when I didn't respect his decisions.
Cyrus keeps starin' at nothing. He's clearly mulling something over in his head. Doesn't seem satisfied with Kale's answer.
There's a long pause while he holds the shot in his hand. He brings it to his lips and downs it in a slow gulp. Then he finally turns to look at Kale with tired eyes.
"So he's an alright Cap'n. But is he... is he... a good man? Fer... Fer Blackbird?"
I look inta his eyes. Then I study the dregs left in my shot glass and smooth out the blanket on my knees.
I's always been one ta finnish what I start, specially when there's gold on tother end.
I shrug an fix my hat.
But I can't lie to my Captain. Last week I'd say they deserve each other. But now I'm thinkin the Lady's somethin special. Like I toldya earlier, she's nice when she don't haveta be. Flint's mean when he don't haveta.
Maybe the compliment's why they had such a connection, but one day she's gonna see his cruelty or--the Sirens forbid it--his fuse is gonna go off on her an she'll see it firsthand.
I fix my hat again. I try not to think a the gold I'm probably drownin right now.
He's a damn fine captain, probably the best pirate there is--but a good man? I wouldn't go that far. A good man for the Lady?
I look right up at Cap.
Iffn I'm honest, I'd say not a chance.
(I'd say so, Rich)
Cyrus nods. He pours himself one more drink and downs it, then stands, a bit unevenly. His speech is starting to slur just a little bit as he opens his mouth to say "Kale, muh friend, we're gettin' Blackbird to the Pirate King. When we's paid to do a job, we do it... But iff'n when we get'er there, I'mma hafta have a few words with Blackbird. I mean... there might be a place fer her on this here ship, don'tcha think, Kale?"
As Cyrus says that last bit, he's already lurching towards the door.
I pour a last drink, wrap up tight in the blanket, an watch the Cap stumble out.
I kinda want to throw up--an not jus cause a the shots.