Bread Bandit

Jura: 468

The Towel Maxin had been given the night prior had been picked up and hung to dry on the back of the chair at the end of the bed, though Jura himself wasn’t present. It wasn’t like there were places to hide in his apartment anyways, and he certainly had enough on his mind to get him out early in the morning to run errands.

At the door, the lock clicked- opened slowly so as to not startle the arguably feral man that was residing with him for the day. In walked Jura, arm’s burdened by his morning shopping, paper wrapped bundles, of many assortments. He even had a satchel draped across his shoulders, stuffed with things that made it rounded.

Spying Max awake- and roaming through his house with a sheet to cover his unmentionables, the rogue dipped his plainly carved mask at him in greeting. Shuffling to the table to set down what he was carrying. Also afford himself the use of his hands so he could tug off the mask and scarf he wore about that. “Good morning… I’d ask if you slept well but it really didn’t sound like it.” When did anyone sleep well after all the shit they both went through in that prison? He set the raw-wood mask down on the table and waved his hands at the mystery packages, adding the satchel to the pile.

“I got you some things. I had to guess your size but I think i’m pretty good at that- so shirt, pants, undergarments.. Boots.” The contents of the satchel, as he opened the top flap to show his company. He then leaned over the table to take one of the paper wrapped packages, this distinctly smelled of food. As he unwrapped it he passed it to Max. “Breakfast. There’s a tavern not too far off from here run by some good ladies. They let me get a little extra.” Because he was so skinny, he assumed. But half his spoils were Max’s anyways. Showing an assortment of breakfast items, a few dark bottles in the mix as well, wrapped securely in cloth so they wouldn't strike each other and break, spilling beer over everything else.

The food was cold, as it was outside in the early morning, but good enough still to eat. If Max wanted anything warmed he could just set it nearer to the fire. Sausages, breads, some cheeses that would do fine sitting out on a shelf but also could be combined to make a sandwich. A couple of the other packages he’d carried in seemed to be root vegetables, stuff Jura would store for later. These were picked up again and transported to the back room. “Help yourself to the food, but dress first. Let me know if it fits fine.”

Max: 205

After taking a minute to look around, the door opened and in came Jura. He took his hands and rubbed his face for a second before staring at all the bags and items Jura had just dragged in through the door, but most importantly, he picked up the scent of food in the air. His stomach was quick to remind him that a loaf of bread did next to nothing for his body.

“Hey— see ya were busy.. what is all that?”
Max felt a little stunned when decent, clean clothing were brought forward. He’s never had that before- this was definitely strange but he picked up at garments as soon as it was mentioned to dress first and eat second. Underwear first of course, it was too cold to free-ball it anymore. Max put on an oversized long-sleeve shirt that draped over him and baggy pants. Boots could wait.

“What am I allowed to eat, what can I not.” He looked still, but in reality Max was about to tackle Jura and throw him for that piece of turnover that just got put in the table. He felt like some rabid animal looking for a fight for no reason… was he really that hungry?

Jura: 402

Jura wasn’t deaf to the grumble of an empty stomach, waving a hand for Max to go at whatever he thought looked good, “Just don’t eat so quickly you throw it all back up, and maybe save me something.” But if Max ate everything, oh well. He was a big guy and he probably had an even bigger appetite, whereas Jura rarely felt hungry. Maybe he was a little, but he was good at ignoring it.

Max not wearing boots wasn’t a problem in his mind, so long as he put them on before they ventured out again and to the docks. Clearly they’d stay here for a while so the poor man could eat.

With that in mind, Jura did pick up some of the still wrapped parcels, containing more shelf stable items. These were stacked neatly in his arms to carry off like he had the root vegetables. The things that were for a meal later, lest he have to break out of his antisocial little bubble  a second time in one day and go shop. He also wasn’t made of money, even if Enn told him time and time again that Jura didn’t need to be, that others could help him if his coin was low. “Just don't go scrounging through my storage for the rest-” Jura reminded as he placed those parcels on a shelf in the back, “If you are really so hungry after you've eaten what’s on the table, I’ll get you something out in town.” Before they got to work, hopefully.

That got him thinking though, would it be a good idea for himself to eat if they were going out to sea? At least, something they planned to inquire about. If he found himself ill from all the rocking and unsteadiness of a vessel, he’d be subjected to a different kind of guilt. So, maybe just a little bit of food to tide him over till… well, sometime later. He never had a good schedule for eating, nor sleeping for the matter.

Returning to the room, Jura pulled the chair out and indicated for Max to sit, while he just took a roll of some sort of pastry for himself and moved to sit on the edge of his bed. Glancing at the tussled sheet with a little inclination that he should straighten it. No, food, he should eat first then clean up later.

Max: 232

disregarding the warning, Max set aside a decent portion for Jura- and practically inhaled the rest. It was delicious and he was starved. The man didn’t appear to have much for table manners, nor seemed to care if he ate properly or not.
“Jura-“ he said between mouthfuls. “This is amazing.”
There was a smile on his face and crumbs in his beard. He ate a large bite of cheese to wash down the pasteries. He heard Jura talk but he was too occupied to answer until he was completely done eating.
Max gave a bit of belch, wiped his mouth on the back of his arm, and brushed the remainder of his meal out of the dreads in his beard.
“Aye- but I can work for my meal. If ya need somethin’ done, let me do it. Maybe there’s work somewhere.”
Max’s mood shot through the roof, he seemed to be very pleasant and had a dumb grin on his face.
“AH- c’mere.”
Max grabbed ahold of the poor unsuspecting victim, dragged him off the bed, and forced him into a giant crushing hug with a laugh.
“Ya know the last time I felt this good? Well- neither do I.”
He put Jura back down and brushed off his shoulders.
“Poor lad- didn’t even get to finish that. Sorry- go ‘head an’ eat. I’ll stock the fire. S’gettin’ cold in here.”

Jura: 320

Jura half watched as Max slid some of the spread to the side, presumably for him, but he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to finish what he’s just grabbed. Glancing to pastry in his hand wearily before he took a small bite. Something eaten, even if he wasn’t interested in it, was better than going another day with an empty stomach. He just hoped his decision to eat wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass. He took a second and a third while Max ate. Watching with a little amusement and intermingled horror as Max let out his absolutely wild side. Before he left his house he’d definitely be doing some tidying up.

He was about to take another little bite when Max stood up, mentioning working for his meal. “Yeah- there’s plent–” He didn’t finish the sentence. Finding himself abruptly hoisted off the bed and into a rather forceful bear hug. A little wheeze emanated from him in his surprise, dropping the rest of his pastry in the ensuing bewilderment.

When he was placed back down, he looked at the discarded bit of food with some anguish, though this he was quick to hide behind a little smile. Max seemed to be high spirited today. That was good? “Your welcome by the way, I figured you were hungry if you were raiding a bakery in the middle of the night-” Of course, the mention of bread had him looking back to the table. He stood and sidestepped that way. His prior snack picked up from the floor and tossed into the embers of the fireplace before he selected something else to try. A bit of cold  sliced meats smelled nice enough, so he rolled some of it up with some cheese, “What time did you want to go into town?” He said before he took a bite and tried to eat something a little more substantial.

Max: 117

“Ya just threw away perfectly good food!” Max cried out in shock when Jura discarded his breakfast into the flames. “I woulda ate that!”
He paused from just a swoop away of throwing logs into the fire, then thought maybe he shouldn’t
“Ah well, we can go whenever…I’m just here. Ain’t got nowhere to go and nowhere to be.”
Max straightened up and glanced down to his poor tail sticking out of his pant legs, then over to Jura.
“Aye before we go- can ya cut a hole in my pants, my tail’s stuck.” He added, for the first part of that sentence didn’t quite sound right. The tip of his tail flicked out of amusement.

Jura: 195

Jura was a couple bites into his little half-assed lunchmeat roll when Max shouted- pausing with the food halfway in his mouth. He lowered it, squinted at the sizzling bit of pastry then turned his eyes to Max, “We aren’t equated to dogs here Max, we don’t have to fight over scraps of food on the floor.” Jura certainly didn’t plan to do that ever again, both for his own health and whatever shreds of pride he still retained.

“We can do it later, you don’t have to go to work immediately. If you want to rest, that's fine. If you want more food, I can get something.” He also didn’t mind adjusting Max’s clothes so it would fit better. “You don’t have to be busy or even have a purpose in my house, you can just do what you want or nothing at all.” Though at the mention of sewing, he figured he could give it a try, waving him over as he quickly ate the last of his little snack and licked his fingers. “I can do a little sewing, won’t be anything great but you’ll be able to get your tail through?”

Max: 165

“Speak for yaself, you could spit on it and I’d still eat it.”
He wasn’t sure if that was the proper use of his words but he meant what he said. Maybe he should’ve worded that a bit better… hmm… probably. He’d done that a few times though, so he knew how that could’ve been taken.
Folding his arms across his chest awkwardly, Max looked over at the giant mess he had just made all over Jura’s table. It was not his worst but he remembered watching the bartenders having to clean up the mess afterward wirh a broom so… did Jura have to do that too or would he leave the mess to the rats? He wasn’t sure how that worked in a house.
“I….. s’pose, I… what else am I s’posed to do, Jura.”
He walked over to the man when he was beckoned forward. Max wriggled his tail uncomfortably and watched to see what he was up to.
“Workin’s all I know…”

Jura: 203

Maybe Max would still eat food that was discarded or soiled in some way, but Jura wouldn't. Not now. He wasn't in a bad place that required such unsanitary methods of survival anymore, and had thankfully grown out of the food scarcity feelings he once held. Of course that wasn't to say he blamed Max for feeling the way he did, "Listen that's a pretty gay thing to say when we aren't dating… so maybe don't. There's still plenty left on the table if you want it."

With a sigh, Jura rubbed his eyes in exasperation. He was much too tired to argue about wording or Max feeling so protective over a dropped biscuit so early in the morning. "Take your pants off, I'll cut a hole in it and sew the edges a bit so it doesn't fray." He knew how to do that much at least. Having ample practice mending his own garments when he cut them with a knife.  

"Hobbies exist to fill your time, or do what I do and just nap." Maybe that wouldn't work for Max, and maybe Jura was just a little depressed. Who cares? It passed the day when he wasn't out on a job.

Max: 161

“Am I… not allowed to say gay things.” Of course Max was only teasing; joking, whatever. He just enjoyed to get people going and riled up but Jura seemed to be as cool as a cucumber. Then he was told to drop his pants.
An interesting twist of events. Max took them off without a fuss and struggled to free his tail from the folds of the pants. Once out, he began to flick his tail around like a cat.
Now max was curious to see just exactly what Jura was going to do, cut a hole in the pants and then what? So he found a place to sit in the free chair and watched. He had never seen anyone sew before and barely understood what the word even meant.
“Hobbies… never heard of ‘em. Fillin’ time though, might need ‘em…. Wait nap? Don’t sleep enough in that comfortable bed over there? Could prolly sleep a few more days- ha.”

Jura: 307

Jura wasn't straight and certainly betrayed as much when he spoke sometimes, so he certainly wasn't in a position to tell Max to shut up. "I mean you can-?" What was he even going to say about it. Don't be gay with me?  

The man gave a soft snort instead of giving the rest of his answer, standing up to go back to the chest at the end of the bed. Inside he kept his clothes, but also his armor, and his supplies for work. Namely he was looking for the belt pouch that held a needle and thread bobbins in a small tin container. He withdrew the tin and left the rest where it was, walking back to the bed to stick his hand between the mattress and the wall. He'd wedged a knife between the space and planned to use that to cut a hole in the backside of the pants before he'd clean up the edges.

"Hobbies, yeah. Like my bird carving. Other people read, whatever…" He didn't really know and instead focused on threading the needle after he sliced a hole about the size of Max's tail into the pants. Draping the garment over his legs so he could use both hands. He pulled a long length of thread through the needle before doubling it back and tying a knot at the end.

While he worked on a basic stitch to keep the fibers of the pants from fraying, he replied, "Then go take a nap, it's nice sometimes." Did he sleep enough? Not really. Maybe if he was ill, but still. That didn't count. That was more of him just being unable to get up in the first place.

Looping the thread back through the cloth a few times, he glanced sideways to see what Max thought, "I think this should hold?"

Max: 175

His eyes followed the needle and thread through the fabric repeatedly, he could kind of see what Jura was doing but it was a little difficult with his hand in the way.
“Yer askin’ me? Sure, looks like it’ll work?”
He paused and looked back to the window.
“An yamade those birds, eh? They looks like the real thing. Pretty nice.”
So that was what a hobbie was, wood carving. He wasn’t sure that was his cup of tea. He’s never done anything like that before. During downtime in the mines, Max slept. They didn’t have a sure sleep schedule it was simply whenever they could crash out on the ground.
Maxin paused for a moment and remembered the stone. He had carved into it with the mining tools as the closest thing he could to a gift. He remembered he took it out of a precious gem vein.
“Say—- that rock is what I gave ya, ain’t it? Kept it all this time? Just a birthday gift why didn’t ya get rid of it?”

Jura: 224

Holding the pants back to Max, he returned the needle and thread to their little tin and tucked it into his pocket for now. The knife slid out of the way and towards the pillow before he forgot about it. "Well I guess we'll find out. Here." Hopefully his meager sewing ability would hold out.

Glancing towards the window, and where he knew the rock to be, Jura couldn't help but frown. What a suggestion. He had nothing, and that was a gift, so why not keep it? "What? That's all I had to remember you by, otherwise you would have gotten a little bird too." Sitting beside the rest of them, people he hadn't seen in many years and probably never would again.

"I did make them, thank you." He was proud of them, he supposed. As much as he was with the work on his masks. Though the birds were more practice or for relaxing then really trying to test his skill. "I also make masks." Like the one he had resting on the table, unfinished and unpainted, as well as the owl like one Max had disintegrated. That still upset him, but he had his sketches and the memory of what it looked like. All it would take to replace it was some time on his part. Maybe another evening activity.

Max: 197

He took the pants with the updated addition to his tail and put them on the floor, after he stepped into them, he threaded his tail easily through the hole and hoisted them up. He liked the way they fit.
“These work perfectly.” Max said contently as he started to swish his tail around. It didn’t feel restricted in the fabrics at all.
When Jura explained about the birds Max’s ears perked up.
“Oh— that’s, I dunno that’s kind. So people keep things they have of others to remember them.”
He never kept anything from anyone, the only thing he had were the plates for his back which he had forgotten to put back on. It was the only thing left from Jim.
He looked over at the masks on the table and blinked, oh. So things like that actually took time on his part. Oops. He put a lot of effort into the details, Max felt a little bad but not too much; Jura said he could just make more.
Like some sort of child, Max was beginning to feel incredibly awkward. His tail was coiling and uncoiling and he felt twitchy.
“So uhm… now…now what.”

Jura: 341

What now? Great question. “Well now you have me thinking of a nap, but if you are feeling antsy, we can go out and walk around.” He’d show him around Faline, he supposed, but he wasn’t used to anything during the day and would add a couple things to worry about to his list of the usual. Turning his head so he could look to where he left his plain mask. Ugh. He wouldn’t look particularly appealing in that but at least it was different from his usual. Guards might not recognize him.

“You want to go down to the docks, or see anything in particular? I don’t think you said you’ve been in Faline for long…” He trailed off a bit to rub his eyes before he scooted to the edge of the bed and stood up. “First- before we leave. Help me clean up the table.” And the floor. He had a broom, which helped considering how messy Maxin was with food. Such an animal. “We can wrap up the leftovers and put them in the storage pots back there.” He indicated where that was by way of turning his face towards the back room and giving a little nod, “I don’t want to wake up to mice on me. Rats in prison were bad enough.”

He let Max do the table cleanup, or start it anyway, and turned the rest of himself to go fetch the broom and dustpan. Liking his house to be spotless or as close to it as one could get. “Nobody ever gave you anything?” He brought up as he picked up the broom and swept the floor starting by his bed, shuffling every now and then to reach different places on the floor where he spied crumbs. “I don’t remember a lot about the prison, but if you want I’ll make you a little bird or something…” Just so Max could have something to call his own besides the golden armor he had and the clothes Jura had replaced for being absolutely foul.

Max: 201

Blinking in confusion, Max shrugged and began to… Rewrap the remaining food items that he didn’t shove down but totally still could, and walked to the back with them where the jars were. Max put everything back, he wasn’t sure if they had designated places but… well he just said to put them in jars. So in the jars they went. Max walked back to the table and stared at the crumbs and left over chunks, which he picked up and ate.
“What do ya uh, do with the rest?”
His ears fell back but he shrugged.
“Why would they? Street rats ain’t got much, an’ there’s nothin to give in the prison but headaches.” Maxin gave a little laugh and shrugged again. “Ya don’t… have to Jura- I ain’t got a place for nothin’ anyways.”
The idea of having something gave him a strange feeling. The clothes on his back and his memories served him well.
He stood and watched Jura sweep the floor not leaving a single crumb behind. Should he just,.,, wipe the rest of the crumbs off the table… cleaning wasn’t something he’s ever really had to do.
“Lucky ya don’t remember much. I remember too much.”

Jura: 266

It didn’t really matter where things were placed, so long as it was wrapped and put in a jar where vermin couldn’t get to it. If Max was still hanging around come evening, they could have the leftovers for dinner.

When Max returned to the table, Jura watched him eat the dropped bits of whatever and made a face of disgust, followed by a sigh and eventually words, “You can brush the crumbs on the floor, I’ll sweep them up and toss it outside…” Or in the fire, which he turned to look at. Mostly extinguished, maybe it would come back up if he added some wood and stirred it around a little. Too much effort, probably, and they were going to go out anyways.  

He paused his sweeping to stare at Max after his comment, understanding the scarcity of something to call your own when you had no home, but well… Max still deserved to have nice things. “You never gave me a headache.” He assumed he meant from fighting, or being loud, or whatever it was Max liked to do to piss people off, “I always looked forward to seeing you.” Because he had nothing else to be excited about. That much he remembered, along with getting bullied slightly less while Max was topside. Jura gave a little shrug at that and resumed sweeping, stepping over to the table to wipe the crumbs into one edge and off into the little dust pan he held in his other hand, “I think I was just too feverish half the time to even think, so… yay?”

Max: 250

“Ah- well…” There was an awkwardness to his pose for a moment. “Glad someone did, haha.”
Truthfully no one enjoyed seeing Max on the surface, it just meant more fighting and chaos. He was a snapping feral beast that wanted to pummel anything that moved, but once that energy was gone he just wanted to sit with Jura quietly. Most avoided him unless they were forced to work together. “It was nice to have at least one friendly face up there.” He said. “How ya put up with me I still never understood.”

Max brushed the crumbs onto the floor like he was instructed and made sure the table was completely cleared off. He looked at the bottles laying there and picked them up to examine them.
“Aye this ain’t ale… nah… is it?” His tail swished excitedly. Too much got him in heaps of trouble, he’d fought everyone in that tavern the last time the seamen got him over the edge, but he really loved the taste and the way it made him feel. Sure water was important to keep from cramping up as he fell victim to constantly, but if he could replace water with one item it would be alcohol. He put the bottle down and cooked his tail up.
“Save it for later, ha. Anyways.”
He looked at Jura expectantly, and then remembered the boots. If they were going somewhere, he needed boots. No idea where they were going but, hey, he was ready for adventure.

Jura: 295

Jura had to deal with a lot of horrible things in prison, and Max certainly wasn’t the worst in his opinion. So, he just gave a dismissive shrug and resumed cleaning. Sweeping up what the man brushed to the floor shortly following. “I don’t know, you are nice to me and others weren’t.” He was just too easy to pick on, all things considered. A helpless little bird who wasn’t supposed to be in that terrible place. Murderers and the like… well maybe not everyone. Max just pissed off the wrong people and chased a tail he shouldn’t have.

“It’s beer.” He explained as he carried the dustpan to the fireplace and tossed it into the mix of ash and dying embers. Not hot enough to catch fire and burn up the bits, but he’d worry about that later. He’d make a good fire tonight to warm the place. Stay home for once and get some sleep maybe. ”I figured that’d be something you like more than water anyways, and you can drink water from the tap back there…” Supposedly it was clean, but Jura usually boiled his water anyways, to make teas and such.  

The broom was retired to its home in the back room, and when he returned to the front, it was back to the table. Picking up the mask left there to place over his face and affix halfway decently. He covered the straps with one of his scarves, black with thin silver lines. It went nice with his gray coat anyways. Max was getting his boots on. Good. “So, you never did say where you wanted to go. Just walk? Go see something? Work?” He offered some suggestions as he approached the door and waited for Max to catch up.

Max: 151

“Hmm. Out of the scum in that prison I
Believed ya, ya didn’t belong there. And yea- sure walk around, curious about them docks… I ain’t got no place to go Jura. Just driftin’.”
His tail flicked with a bit of worry. He couldn’t stay here, especially not if there was nothing for him to do. Jura had done so much for Max already it was beginning to feel like guilt if he did anything more for him. He wished it were the other way around but, well maybe someday he could be useful.
Max followed behind the man to the door and cast a glance back to the birds on the window. Maybe he’d ask Jura to show him how to make those… a, Hobby. Jura put on another mask and Max remembered that perhaps Jura had a very important identity to hide, so he saved his questions for later.

Jura: 228

Jura waited for his company to exit before he locked the door and tucked the key back into his clothes. He hopped down a few of the steps and waited at the bottom for Max to join him, apparently setting off towards the docks. Again it got him thinking of fishing. He doubted he'd be any good at it, nor was he really dressed for something he considered to be dirty and wet. If his coat got ruined he'd certainly be in a bad mood.

"You are always welcome to come by and stay with me. I like the company." Well not everyone's company, or anyone save three people actually. He just wasn't going to share that much and walked along down the road. Leading Max through the twisting streets of the Mar and eventually through choice parts of Faline till they got to the docks. Usually places less occupied by guards, if Max was being observant.

As it usually was in the early morning, a thick fog hung over the bay and the lower level homes there. Not something that would stick around once the sun rose, but it was kind of ominous -more so at night. Less visibility. Ever Jura kept himself out of here at night.  "We can look for a boat that's prepping to leave I guess, if you want to find some work?"

Max: 331

Trailing behind like a lost baby duck, Maxin and Jura made their way through the quiet streets of the city. Max’s eyes were following the large buildings and various vendors on their way to set up. The main streets he was sure would be packed soon enough. The weather was rather brisk in the early hours and sent a shiver down Max’s spine. Along they walked, and walked, and walked, until the streets began to slope downwards until the smell of the sea was on the wind. It made his blood boil with excitement, he missed the smell. The waves were gentle when they neared the docks. Max looked down where the ocean met the land, or as far as he could with all the fog that was coming in. He couldn’t see very far. When they finally reached the dock they had to weave and avoid working men and women, all walks of life.
Boats were being loaded, and some sat in silence. His eyes traveled across the massive hulls, and some smaller ones. These all looked like fishing boats to him.
With the fog it made things hard to tell who was who- until a man in a naval uniform walked past, even greeted the two.
The hairs on Max’s arms raised and he swallowed hard.
The further down the dock they walked the more uniforms began to appear. The excitement was now switching over to fear, people were swarming about and not long before out of the fog was their massive naval ship. Max felt a rush of nausea and he immediately turned around.
“Nice walk.” He groaned and focused on the sound of the gulls screaming in the air.
He couldn’t fight, he’d be caught so quickly… but he loathed every last one of those uniformed people, down to their very core.
“Fishin’ boats must’ve been the first ones when we came in.” Max grumbled, changing the subject. “These docks are massive, Jura, how ya even begin…”

Jura: 296

The docks weren't a place Jura frequented, at least not when there wasn't a shady market happening. He'd stopped by a warehouse not so far from here to spy on a wealthy man. Getting a little info in case his boss was interested in the goods being moved or the layout of the place, who ran it, the number of people guarding, types of patrons. So on. Needless to say, that  black sheep aristocrat put a sour taste in Jura's mouth so he hadn't been back. He'd like to gut him- but he didn't have orders for such cruelty nor was it a requirement of his position. He learned that much early on in his employment with Sangre Mar. Having killed one man for his own mistakes, and being explicitly told he did not have to while his boss patched him up.

As they walked, Jura had slowed his own pace to match. Walking more Beside Max while he occupied himself with looking at the moored boats or passing people. Only noting Maxin's tension when he turned his head the opposite way to look at him, a question on his tongue but swallowed before it could be said.  Now wasn't the time to ask about boats. Instead, he pivoted, sidestepped so he could loop his arm into the crook of Max's when the man abruptly turned about face and looked ready to bolt.  Leaning close to whisper in his ear, "What's bothering you?" He didn't plan to answer the questions max was mumbling, figuring them to be a diversion stemming from nervousness.

Turning his head away slightly, he did take note of the uniformed folks, not understanding if they were the reason Max was so unsettled, or if there was something else. Surely not the fog?

Max: 330

Max’s eyes flickered back to the direction he had just turned from, and almost jumped out of his skin as another naval officer walked past carrying an armload of boxes. His tail was flicking like mad.
“AYE- nothin’ nothin’, uhm let’s go this way, maybe down this side’ll be somethin’.” He cast a glance at his masked companion.
He hadn’t noticed Jura’s arm hooked with his, but he shifted and took the man’s hand instead, nearly tugging him along as Jura had done the night before.
He benched up some bile but forced it down. Rarely was he ever nervous or frightened by anything, but he remembered the naval brig he was tossed down under. It’s been so long the general should have been dead a ways back, but seeing the officers in general gave him the creeps.
All the bad memories flooded into his mind, getting yelled at, flogged, and thrown into prison. What a wild time to be alive.
The further down the dock they went, the slower Max got. He finally returned to a normal walking speed and looked over to Jura with a sheepish grin…
Then, there she was.
A large three mast ship covered in gulls. The white birds littered the docks, went underfoot, screamed and squalled to passerby’s. Burly men carrying barrels that leaked out blood huffed as they walked. They were grimy and matched in filth. This ship had just docked, it wasn’t there a little while ago, and now the crew was unloading. It was unmistakably one of the whaling ships.
“Move, ya rats.”
Max was gauking and didn’t notice the man coming up behind him. Was he talking to the gulls or them?
He was about to say something offensive when he saw how massive the man was.
“Yes sir.” Was what he muttered. He knew how to pick his fights.
“Saw one of these ships at the ol’ dock. Only once, men are strong as iron, and meaner than dogs.”

Jura: 367

Maybe trying to redirect Max was a terrible little venture of his, now being dragged around by the stronger man to God knows where. He tried to keep pace but poor Max was booking it and didn't let him suggest an alternative route, or for the matter, a hiding place. Anyone save a blind bat could see the man was agitated, tail thrashing around. Wildness back in his eyes, but the kind a trapped animal had. Not the unbridled fury that Jura expected. He swung his masked face from one side to the next to try and determine where they were headed or what they were running from, too unfamiliar with the area himself to know.

When Max eventually slowed and looked back to him, Jura just met his gaze with a weariness of his own, trying to tug his hand out of Max's iron grip before his arm was yanked out of its socket. A much worse outcome he assumed then what he got, but he still glanced to his own forearm and lowered it to his side discreetly. Glad somehow that Max was distracted by a man shouting orders to the crew. He'd felt the crystals in his arm shift and break when Max had pulled him unexpectedly. Glad he'd wrapped the cut with bandages the night prior to blot some of the bleeding, that still didn't stop him from regretting taking Max's arm in his. Alas, judging by his companions' reaction, a little blood might be useful. Jura tilted his head to inspect the massive ship Maxin seemed to be transfixed by, voice probably unheard over the rampant shouting. "You know this one?"

The sight of barrels seeping sludge and thickening blood made his stomach turn. What the hell were they transporting? Sea monster guts? The stench that hung around the boat and the passing men made him think as much, face wrinkled in a mingle or horror and disgust.  Everything smelled too strongly of half rotted meat mixed with too much salt and iron. The screaming of gulls as they tried to get a bite or squabble with one another drowning out any words he might have made out about the vessel's purpose.  

Max: 209

He let go of Jura’s hand and stared ahead for a second.
“I don’t—— think so…?” He was watching the crew members for any familiar faces through the fog. None of them he recognized; however he was piss drunk at the time and throwing fists at anyone that gave him a strange look.
“MAXIN. You BASTARD.”
“Jura-“ he tried to explain himself over the gulls when one of the men walking past put a barrel of something absolutely horrendous down.
“Aye, that I am-“
“Ya left me before we could finish our match!” A giant, wide woman, approached with a smirking grin. “See ya at the tavern on Crook’s tonight.” Her voice was so loud she barely had to raise it over the noise around them, it actually hurt his ears.
“Bring the cards!” She called over the shoulder after slapping his back hard enough to make him wince.
Max looked over to Jura, flabbergasted, and leaned over to his ear.
“Maybe this wasn’t the best idea for now…? Have anywhere else ya have to show?”
He was itching to stay, but another Naval ship was docking… for the city being dead, this was the sailors time of life. Loading their ships and setting sail.
“I’m sorry.” He added.

Jura: 211

The docks were the worst place to go early in the morning. He'd expected quiet. Maybe some birds, old fishermen… not boats full of horrendous mystery globs and people shouting constantly about anything and everything. Each raised voice made him flinch, despite his attempts to ignore them.

How many people did Max know, in his brief taste of freedom, where Jura couldn't even say he knew much about the three he'd decided he liked the company of? How pitiful.

So while person after person approached, or passed by, he figured Max probably knew them. Stepping back a bit to stand half obscured by him and hopefully out of the way. A hefty woman mentioned a game, cards?  Where was Crooks End?

Swallowing, Jura tried to settle himself and looked to Max briefly, "I … don't really know." Max liked the docks, or maybe he didn't. Maybe it was just the navy people he hated, that made him look so frightened. An expression Jura couldn't say he'd seen on the man's face ever.

A little hesitantly, Jura took Max's arm again with his right hand, keeping his left slack, a little shove off to the side, to hopefully get Max walking. "We can just walk, somewhere that doesn't smell like old fish.."