The Sea

The sea, a seemingly endless province of blue. The sea salt wind blew harshly this way and that, prickling the skin of any person it touched. Looking down at her crew, pulling ropes, cleaning the deck, Ceph felt at east, even with the salt that stung her eyes and meshed with her hair that blew with the wind. It was the only place she could feel so free, even with the kingdom in such chaos with the missing queen. Rumours spread throughout the land, it was unknown as to what had actually happened to Queen Breanna. Word has it that she was kidnapped for ransom by pirates, or even by her own command, though one of the more unsavoury rumours was that Queen Breanna left to rule an opposing faction. The Imperial Guard always stood on edge, even with the King, Arlo, still on the throne.

But out here, on the open sea, that was of little importance to Ceph, she had her job, she had her crew, and her ship. There was little else she needed to care about. Her tails gripped onto the mast above the crow’s nest where Taaru was, the man keeping a watchful eye on the stern, Ceph watching the bow with sharp eyes. Her hands held the loot carefully, the reason she had climbed up to the mast of the crow’s nest. To go over the details… the crown of late Queen Breanna. To her men, the item was merely loot from when they had gone ashore months ago, but to Ceph it was so much more. It was a promise of power, of what was to come. The Viscet smirked, tucking it onto the side of her belt as she slid town to Taaru’s level. The feathers on his head raised with a questioning look, just for a moment, before they settled down.

“Everythin’ is looking fine, Capt’n.” He said, tipping his head. She smiled, sharp teeth poking through. “Minor has charted the direction of our target, by the way.” He added in as a second thought, scratching at his chin as he shifted himself. Ceph nodded her head in thanks, continuing on her way down the mast.

Few people looked up from their spot, especially the few crowded around on the deck, playing a card game. She shook her head, smirking. What idiots, her stupid precious idiots. Eizen sat with Minor and Anthony, slapping cards onto an upturned barrel, the trio using it as a table to place their cards and bets. Eizen slapped down a pair of aces with a winning grin, and the other two groaned loudly, accusing the man of cheating, though with faux hurt he put a hand to his chest, commenting that he’d never stoop as low as that. But even from where she was, Ceph could see cards poking out from his back pocket.

“Playin’ cards when you should be workin’, aye?” Ceph asked, her tails curling behind her as she crossed her arms under her bust. The three of them perked, Minor going as far as saluting her. She smiled at them, though still held a disapproving look within her eyes. “What happened to be the stakes this time, eh?”

“I- ah! Nothin-” Minor stammered, much to Eizen and Anthony’s amusement, the first cutting him off.

“Not only do I get this months pay, next stop in town Minor’s gotta dress as a woman.” Indeed, it was childish, but on the sea they sought any form of entertainment, even if it was humiliating as this.

“C-C’mon Eizen you don’t need to broadcast that to everyone!” Minor hissed with narrowed eyes, only making the man chuckle more at his expense. “W-what about Anthony?!” Minor asked in exasperation.

“He’s giving me two months! Didn’t you pay attention when we started?” Eizen raised a brow, all the while Ceph watching the hapless trio. “C’mon, Minor. This is why you always lose, you’re so easy to read.” Eizen shook his head, scratching at his neck. Ceph was barking with laughter.

“Blimey, you lot really are a handful!” She cackled, using one of her tails to mess with Minor’s hair, something he huffed about. “Now, Minny my boy, Taaru said you finished planning our route?” Her ears perked up as her tails drew him in closer. He nodded mildly, gesturing to the mapping table. Ceph released the man, and walked over, putting her hands onto the table and leaning over Minor’s mapping work. Pirate work? He wasn’t the most savvy of people, but his mapping skills were beyond exceptional.

“We’re currently headed South,” Minor started, his hand brushing over where their ship currently was “where we want to head is due North-South.” He explained, hand moving where the mainland of the Imperials resided. “The winds are currently in our favour-”

“Yes, but will there be time to prepare, I need to make sure Bastille did a stock check and go over our numbers. Word on the wind is that the Imperial’s hired a seadog. They call him the Dead Man.” Ceph’s gaze hardened, locked onto the sea horizon. “We’re going to have a hard time trying to scuttle that ship with that man on their side. If we’re not ship shape we’ll all be on a one way ride to Davy Jones's Locker.” Ceph spat out vehemently. Minor only glanced at her.

“Should be, I’d check and see what Bastille says, last I saw him he was with William, talking all suss and the like.” He motioned to the lower deck where the crew slept. Ceph sighed, Bastille had managed to shirk duties quite often, despite being her first mate.

“Thanks, you can get back to work now Minor.” Her tails curled slightly, as she walked away from the man, left leaning over his map. Looking to the skies, she turned to Vaas, the cockswain of their vessel. The man was unusual and had spent a few years too many on the open sea. Or in it, there was never a way to tell, Vaas seemingly owning a pair of gills despite his rather human features. “Turn the ship twenty degrees North, helmsman!” His eyes only glossed over her before he nodded, tilting to wheel and steadying it once the course of the ship was altered.

With that done, all there was to do with preparations was find Velvet and go over their plan to take down the ship with the loot. Ceph’s precious ship wasn’t known as a Man O’ War for nothing. Her ship, the Devil’s Whore, it was always there for her. The thing was a beast and took whatever thrashing the sea’s gave the great vessel. She walked down the stairs leading under the deck, hand and tails running along the hand rails in a loving gesture for her ship, a fond smile taking over her usually stern and sharp features. This side of herself, the soft side, it was reserved for her ship and crew mates in the times it was needed, when the group of them were together, singing shanties and looking for their next haul.

In the corner, huddled around an oil lamp hung carefully from a beam above them, was Bastille and William, talking in hushed tones. Bastille had his arms crossed sternly over his chest as where William had opted to simply tucking one hand into his pocket, the other resting atop of handle of his cutlass. They didn’t notice her for a few long moments, but it was Ceph that cleared her throat. William had jumped onto his legs, giving her a pleasant smile, something the ladies would call “charming”. Not something Ceph was impressed with. What was there to be impressed by? She snorted. Bastille was staring at Ceph, his expression unpleasant, filled with the usual salt of disdain. But Ceph was used to that.

“Did you do the stock check like I asked, Basy?”

“Don’t call me that.” Bastille replied sharply. Ceph snorted. “Yeah, we’re running low on rum and gunpowder, but apart from that our stocks are fine. We could use a few whetstones next time we hit land, the crew need to sharpen their swords and we have few of those left.” Each word was brisk, and polite enough that her tone didn’t seem as rude as it was. “If that’s all, Ceph?” Bastille’s brow rose in a questioning look, and for a moment he moved to dismiss himself though Ceph cleared her throat, two of her three tails blocking his route of escape.

“The next few days I’m gonna need you two lollygagers to carry your weight. We’re going to be going up against the Dead Man. As far as the rumours on the wind go, he’s been hung by the Imperials three times. And yet here we are, having to prepare to battle the un-dead seadog.” William looked apprehensive, brows furrowing as he shuffled. Any mention of the un-dead often made many a sailor shiver, after all, it could be a member of Davy Jones's crew, come to collect something due. “There’ll be no more of shirking your duties, ya hear?” Ceph barked. William nodded, Bastille could have been more subtle with the way his eyes practically rolled to the back of his head. Ceph sighed, and shook her head, standing aside and pulling her tails away. “Let’s go, then.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Vaas stood stock still, eyes fixed on a Navy ship that sailed off their RIGHT side. It wasn’t a part of the Imperial Fleet, luckily for them. Taaru had not signalled him to alert the crew yet, so for now the sea was stuck with an uncomfortable stagnate calm. It was never a good sign with an upcoming battle. Ceph had been sparring against another crew member, Eizen, for the last few hours, the later having lost his footing more than a few times, not that the usually proud man would admit that after this. It seemed their captain was nervous, furious and worried. Word has it that she’d known the Dead Man before his draught of fame with not only the Imperial Nation, but two others.

Vaas could understand that, some things couldn’t be left in the past, and whatever knowledge she had of him, if it caused that brute of a woman to worry, he would too. It was rare Vaas feared anything, he lived in the ocean for most of his teen years. He knew how it spoke, moved and roared. The dark depths were nothing to scoff at and were more fearsome than any man, sailor or pirate he’d ever met, he and Ceph included. Whoever this Dead Man was, he must have held some kind of power, or even a blessing from the damned Gods. As if Jörmungandr would turn their gaze on any welp such as them. Gods hardly meddled in mortal affairs, friendly or not.

His grip tightened on the helm as Ceph approached, she looked troubled, her eyes narrowed at Bastille. The latter had moved to the rigging of the ship, checking for faults. Ceph’s tails whipped behind her in annoyance, borderline anger. Vaas’ ears twitched, his own tail curling slightly.

“Everythin’ aight cap?” He questioned, locking the wheel in place so he could stretch his arms. Ceph looked to him and basically sighed, leaning against a nearby rail. “Yer lookin’ a tad stressed.”

“It’s Bastille.” She stated, brows knit. “He’s been shirking duties more, talking in private with the crew. I can’t risk anythin’ like a mutiny right now, Vaas. Not with who we’re dealin’ wit’.” Hergaze shifted to the sky, and endless rise of light blue against the trashing of the dark angry sea. “You’ve been with me for years Vaas. I know I can trust you.” Her tails curled around the railings she was leaning on, the woman brushing her hair away from her eyes and tucking it underneath her hat. “I want you to keep an ear out for me, if you hear somethin’, report to me.”

“You know I will, Ceph. Always ‘ave. Wouldn’t be around if you didn’t ‘ave my back, right time I may as well ‘ave yours.” He dipped his head, placing his hands firmly on the wheel, getting a good feel of the worn grain beneath his fingers. Ceph pulled away, tipping her hat and heading for her quarters, leaving the Tibumeru alone. His gaze did wander on her as she turned a corner, and Vaas couldn’t feel anything but indifferent worry.

Ceph was scared, something she often wasn’t, no matter who they faced. Whoever this man was, whoever they would be going against, they obviously had done something so horrible that even Captain Ceph Ringtail was scared.