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[Is he insulting me or flirting with me?] Devin asked.
[He's just telling you the truth,] the Grim said.
[Whose side are you on??]
[ (: (: (: ]

Devin tried to follow whatever the hell Vidar was doing to his feet. "I've been stabbed once. I got shanked with a toothbrush. It's. A long story."

hara: [That's so extra. Do you actually know old norse?]
 
"Thou will have to inform me, of that which is a toothbrush?" Vidar told him in his most put upon Icelandic accent. Because he was pirate now. In order for this plan to work they all had to go full hog, they had to actually enjoy themselves-- And thankfully everything about the MARG so far was delightful.

Heliotrope; [I'm real real worried suddenly that you've never met me?]
 
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"Don't even worry about it, babe," Devin said.

hara: [How could I forget that you're so full of shit, it's incredible your eyes haven't turned brown by now?]
 
"*THIS is our Captain?... Why did I leave Korea?*"
Mach said, getting into character. Unfortunately, he didn't actually speak Korean. He spoke Chinese, though. And for purposes of characterization he was fine with that, he doubted anyone would try to speak korean to him. Though he did admit that most people wouldn't know Marcus Speidwagon to speak fluent chinese, instead expecting Japanese or Russian when he wasn't english. He liked his AR skin, and though the hardsuit wasn't perfect, it felt right. In this, he could sink right to the seafloor and walk like a steely diver of old. Also, a small part of him said the limited armor would help when his other self arrived. Hopefully that and the energy bolter on his back would stop that anime titted... Well. Mach couldn't exactly blame his other self. He'd been just as paranoid and difficult when he got reinstantiated. Not that it made things easy now. He wanted to say something. But... Anything that other him knew, Nerrix could pull from him. What the hell was he doing? He had to get in character!

"*I am unimpressed. But, my only ship is my own body, and it can only tread the bottom. If I wish to do more than walk through rivers, I must sail on the surface. On a ship. Sadly, yours is my only option... For now.*"
He said, unable to cross his arms with the cannons attached to them, but still managing to display his displeasure with his captain. He was a sinker of ships, a gunner with few equals, and a truly dangerous ambush predator. To serve a man who perished in battle and stole the body of a beautiful maiden? Truly, this would be the lowest point of this warrior. Emotionally, of course. The oceans ALWAYS had more depth to show.

[Guys at some point other me is gonna realize this is a thing on his rep. I have no idea how he'll react to this. It is NOT our usual cup of NOS.]
 
Vidar did his best not to laugh at the hefty armor Mach wore- that was before the AR activated. Now that, was cool;This was cool. This was as good at Unknown Crisis, the VR Game he played now and then if only to try and romance the team medic.

"Oh yes! Your Captain Knivfar, at yer service, metal-husband, tho ye be of so little teeny tiny faith," He said with an elaborate bow and pointed his cutlass at him dramatically. He hadn't meant to drop the mcelroyism in there but there it rolled out his mouth, "900 hundred years have I sailed these seas and I'll sail them still, for until some mortal succeeds in sending me to Valhala. The first time wasn't glorious enough. Thou however look like thoust have no problem gaining entrance the first time around. Look how ye glitter and all that; so perhaps I may yet come to impress you!"

Vidar was not the best actor and was on the edge of laughing the whole time. But he seemed to be having an incredible time, being able to say the most cheeseball thing and excepting to be taken genuinely. He liked this Mach much better.

Heliotrope;[We're banking on him not reacting well and underestimating the social machinations of the swarm. I know you're nervous but him finding us and being confused by what he finds is an integral part of the plan. This MARG is what the militia do for fun here, and hopefully they wont take lightly to his intrusion and he wont take a hint and play it cool-- There's going to be a moment of calculated chaos. We may have to bluff socially and play the martyr or things may play out more violently requiring us to simply duck and cover till the smoke settles. Either or, I predict he'll dig his own grave here. If things don't go how I think- then we'll run and figure out how to murder him the hard way. We got you.]
Heliotrope; [You can be captain next time I promise.]
 
Yasmin eyes the door, eager to get on with this, when a thought that is not her own strikes her: [you're meant to be having fun, aren't you?]
I must confess to this being...odd.
[Going from herding cats to watching them play?] asks Marid, her muse.
That isn't a bad way to put it.
[You're supposed to join in on the fun!]
But, I'm to stand by for our instructions, per-
[Starglass's instructions, yeah yeah - we're also supposed to help them out! The plan's solid, even you were ready to concede to that. It doesn't have to be all business!!]
A pleasant idea.
[There's no point in worrying about how you're getting Mach off the station or how this plays out just yet: greater powers than us are at work right now. For this plan to work, we have to play the game, and at least act like we're having fun!]
I suppose you are right. Very well: allow me a moment to get into character.

But who is Sidazi al-Qadash, that watches the scallywags and brigands gathered here in this shack at Blackguard's Cove? What purpose has united them beneath the command of Ti Knifvar, at this gathering of some of the most infamous crews to sail the eldritch seas? For what reason has she, a free mage, thrown in her lot with vampirates?

For the one thing all free mages look for.

"And will thy glory also secure our freedom?" Sidazi al-Qadash asks, guns holstered secure and her arcane foci surging with an electrical heat from the AR haptics. "I've come a long way from my home along the Moroccan coast - now a holding of the Company and its people shackled to Company charters - and I've paid dear for my freedom. You speak a tall tale, and were you not a ghost of the sea I'd consider it another one to throw into into the hold."

Sidazi takes a few paces toward this captain with an appraising look, as much Yasmin settling into her character as much as Sidazi being suspicious of another braggart. "I sympathize with the skepticism expressed by our Mekanix comrade, only.... Nine centuries is a long time to sail the seas, and if you've managed to endure this long, it must be because you're either persistent, clever, or some mix of both."

Rolling her weight onto one hip and crossing her arms, Sidazi asks: "tell me of your victories, captain Knifvar - if you'd have me follow you, I'd like an account of how you'll secure our victories to come!"

How am I doing??
[Yasmin, you're a natural!!]
 
Abby stared at the space the Vampirate Admiral occupied long after she left, before finally speaking.
"I think I'm in love?"
[Abigail...] Proxy said, a tone of worry apparent.
"Look. It'll be fine. Everything is bright and colorful, and that snake said everything was going to go my way, remember?"
[Uh...No?]
Abby shrugged and took a moment to examine her new look. Her skin had gone from pale to ashen, which she thought was a good look, and her shirt was appropriately flowy. She admired that for a while, because her old parents would have never let her wear anything as revealing or as exciting as this. Then there were the guns! Wonderfully shiny, and with lovely details. She admired each of them for several moments before finally taking one inlaid with a cross and a skull, which seemed appropriate.
 
Vidar's eyes went wide for a moment as Yasmin's superior acting skills swamped him like a rogue wave.
"Uh-" He said articulately not sure if he should start with the freedom bit or the goad on his skills. "Well- The Sea is the greatest freedom I've ever known, lassie, and if its victories you want then I'll tell you this; I'm a man of two motives, stealth and reckless abandon done it what ever order gets the job done. Uh- Our last boarding Aboard the Northern Lights, a good ship with a mad captain- she unleashed horrors the likes of wich I hope you never have to see. Ate men alive whole- she forced our hand and we sunk the vessel but you see, victory sometimes is livin' and stealing their treasure m-" He does not say the word map but its right there on his face sort of twisted up in disguise and surprise.
[Boss. Hey. I- They're pirates. They have those. Like probably a lot.]
What the fuck have I done.
[it's a solid plan!]
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
[Screaming in lower case wont help you.]
"m-map." he stutters out, "Aye yes. Sometimes victory is about knowing what's possible and slipping out a live. You don't know how terrible it is to be dead yet lassie. And I've made a promise to this mortal-" He said gesturing at his morph, "And we shan't be throwing away our opportunities, neither mine nor yours. That wouldn't be very glorius- yes hello Mr. Vallahala sir please I've gotten my entire crew spectacularly dead let me in- Hell no. Wouldn't fly."
 
Devin left Vidar to the cruel mercy of improv and tried and failed to imitate the stances Vidar had just taught him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but like. Mood," he told Abby.
 
"The Northern Lights, you say?" Yasmin says, hand on her chin in thought. "I heard tell of that misadventure, I think. To have escaped from the mad captain and her horrors with your unlife is certainly no mean thing, let alone with the map to their hidden hoard. Very well, captain Knifvar - I'll respect your commands, for now."

[You can practically see the smoke coming out of his ears XD]
He's doing his best, and I'm proud of him.
[Didn't mean to say I wasn't! You must have thrown him!]
Yes - i hope I'm not acting too hard?
[You're fine.]

"Very well, shall we see what these eponymous blackguards are about?" Yasmin asks, hand on the handle of the door out to Blackguard's Cove.
"Just a reminder to be in character, once you're out the door!" Eighth Frame says to the room. "We've got the tavern set up, which is where you'll find everyone at this stage of the game. Remember the guidelines, that you can ping me if you have out-of-character questions, and to have fun!"
Yasmin nods to the sphere, then opens the door and steps through-

-out to a view of a harbor, the sky above darkening and the cove in the shadow of the island's short mountain. Lanterns have been lit up and down the cove, their lights just bright enough to illuminate the sandy gaps between shacks without being so bright as to be visible from the sea. The most formidable structures here are not buildings belonging to the cove, but the fleet of ships gently bobbing out in the harbor. The Dragon's Shadow, Exquisite Dread and Darling Revenant are moored in a group to the right side of the cove, while the Heart of the Tempest, Vixen and Helheimr are moored on the left, well within broadside range in the tight confines of the cove. Despite the historical conflict between the two fleets, however, the ships are stilled, with only the faint wisplights used to light the docks and provide light on the decks to suggest any kind of activity at all. The sounds of the sea beyond and the jungle behind underscore the single loudest source of noise: the unmistakable singing of shanties and clinking of tankards from a nearby tavern, the single loudest and brightest thing in the area. The quality of the game’s graphics and sound design make it almost indistinguishable from reality, with only subtle clues and AR haptics to keep the player from being totally lost to the illusion.

"Where else to find the action than at the tavern," Yasmin quips with a smile. AR haptics subtly indicate that most of the game area includes the tavern itself - a rougly two-story not-much-more-than-a-shack that manages to have some dignity about it - along with an area encompassing roughly two 'blocks' in all directions. There are small groups of players that look up from their conversations to the crew that steps out of the shack and into Blackguard's Cove, eyeing them without any visible reaction; Yasmin offers them a nod, and they go back to whatever quiet discussions they were having before.

"Right then - shall we see what adventure awaits us?"
 
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It floored him for the moment. He had gone done to the docks often in Oslo, and they were a dirty industrial place that smelled of death after the currents went sour. This on the other hand was delightful yet some how full of the same energy-- Nothing good or boring ever happened at the docks. He'd played VR before of course, but the realism always got him. Always had since it came out. He did a little spin as he walked into the scene.

Tuesday{tacnet}: Okay I take it back. The future is kind of okay. This is neat.

Ti Knifvar{CoveChat}: Would any one like to duel?
Ti Knifvar {CoveChat}: (ง’̀-‘́)ง
 
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After a half a minute, Vidar’s query is answered.

The Meg {CoveChat}: [sure.]
The Meg: {CoveChat}: [i see your primary’s swords. so’s mine]
The Meg: {CoveChat}: [meet out front of the tavern.]

“You’ve a peculiar way of making new friends, captain,” Yasmin comments aloud, in the voice of her character Sidazi; pirates look up from their conversations or start making their way to the front of the tavern as the din within falls somewhat in volume. Someone stumbles out of the front door - a pirate illumimated by the orange-yellow lights that spill out into the evening - who starts searching the area before catching sight of the approaching crew: he shouts something indistinct back toward the still open door, gesturing for those inside to join him. He is joined by a second pirate, and then a third, and so on until upwards of sixteen pirates have created a semicircle facing the crew, some drinking from tankards or shouting ribald greetings - a few looking back toward the tavern in anticipation.

“I don’t understand,” Yasmin says aloud. “Which of these is to fight-”

Her answer comes in the form of one last pirate stepping out of the tavern - one who towers over the others gathered around them. They look back toward the assembly of deckhands, before following their pointing fingers to the crew.

“Ya allah…” Yasmin says, getting a good look at them in the light. Eight feet tall and eminating the ‘magic’ of the undead, the huge revenant who turns to face Ti Knifvar appears to be cobbled together from the remains of a human being and seabed detritus. Where their right shoulder should be juts the head of a great white shark, and their body is covered in bones, shells, and coral along with the fins of the shark that roughly align with where they’d be on a shark’s body, its tail jutting out from the lower-left calf. The revenant’s clothes appear tattered and worn from being soaked, dried, and pierced too many times, and their eyes glow with a pale blue light. On the revenant’s hip rests sword and gun, both holstered - but the giant’s had going to the hilt of their blade.

“Captain Ti Knifvar, was it?” calls the revenant, in a voice marred by seawater and rock. “New to our port, and seeking a duel already! You’ve some backbone, i’ll grant you that.”

More have begun to stumble out of the tavern, a small crowd gathering around as the revenant continues: “‘name’s The Meg, and I’ll accept your challenge, provided you agree to one condition: I’m not looking to miss out on what’s to come on account of injury, so we’ll fight to first wound - if you find that agreeable?”

“I’d say you’ve found a duel, captain,” Sidazi says in aside, just loud enough to be heard over the cheers and betting of the swelling crowd gathering round the impending match.
 
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Vidar's morph, is not big. He is made aware again just how small he is. With out RJ Around in the past hour or so to tower over him he'd almost forgotten. He puts his hands on his hips and looks all the way up. It was a hell of a look.

"Aye, Ideal even. You seem a lovely fellow, I'd hate to kill you," He said. There is a smile plastered on his face, which is almost cherubic on his features. This is the best thing to happen to him- a practice sword did not get his blood up as much as a live sword and a crowd. He wanted to win desperately with the same vigor as one wanted to win Mario cart- with a sort of evil innocence and reckless abandon. He also knew it was imperative to put on a good show- he wanted people to remember this good time he'd help facilitate when the time came.
 
He had a sneaking suspicion that the meg had never seen the princess bride and took the quote for complete arrogance. Which- in honesty got him in to trouble in life, but he liked to quote things and if he hadn't outgrown it in hundred years he'd given up on trying to stop it. But that worked for him in the moment; He knew the part he was playing. The cocky but talented interloper; had dealt with more than one goblin busting into he and Five's dojo pumped up on drive and wanting to unseat the champion. He'd trounced them thoroughly in front of five and then, if their ego's weren't so bruised invited them to stay.

The Meg came at him in a rush. That large rapier crashing with all the brute strength he imagined was signature for the meg. He did his best to be where the sword was not- Jumping back, rolling around to the side- coming up to his feet and having to bend back to avoid his head coming of and then pivoting just in time to catch that big blade over his head. She forced him to the ground. Damn. She was strong. But he wasn't sure if she was good. The crowd laughed and hooted- telling him this is how these matches went. Sicking the meg on some one was probably a time honored tradition here.

He mustered enough strength to bounce her blade against his (Eliciting a small noise of surprise form the meg) and to roll away and back up to his feet, a smile plastered on his face and not quiet a laugh as he caught his breath.

“Have fucking a thee,” He said with a laugh. The best counter he knew for brute strength was obnoxious technical work- So he put her through the paces. The difrence in reach made his offensive look more like a very squerily defensive, but the two of them went through the paces and swashbuckled around the AR pier, pushing people out of their way and scattering the crowd wide as they went. The Megs large blade kept being where Vidar was not and Vidar blade kept not having the reach to make a blow. He felt she wasn't holding back so much now, with strength like hers she must have to make her matches fun and sportsmanlike and he was glad to have made her work.

It happened quick- He parried and then dashed to the left seeming to have finally out maneuvered her. He hopped up on a crate and then at her- bringing his sword down across her back.

He felt it bounce. And his blood boiled like no other. In his mind, a fair fight didn't involve armor. Call him old fashioned.

He skittered out of the way as the meg twirled, Blade going reckless and high. He wasn't sure he could pull the same stunt twice, but he just didn't have the reach to do the job. If he had a katana or two short swords (his preferred unit of death dealing) He might have been able to get into the hot zone; between he shoulder and her wrist. So he let her chase him, swords clashing, both swearing occasionally until he came again close to a box. He hopped up and back onto the box to avoid her blade, but his feet never found what they were looking for- like thinking there was a stair and there wasn't. In that moment of confusion her blade found him and he landed hard, clipping through the AR box and rolling away.

He came up bloodied, a deep slash in his side.

He breathed out audibly a few times and hopped to the side on one foot, sword still up like there might be another blow to come before his oponent realized they'd already hit. The long muscle in his side conecting his hip had been done in and did not let him put weight on that side. But the Meg staid back.

Ti Knivfar; [I wish I knew my way around a rapier better, but it seemed the right choice for a pirate game. You'll have to indulge me again some time, cause that was the best go about I've had in a long time. Thank you : D ]

“This is borrowed blood,” He said looking down at his hand, “It hardly counts, but I capitulate to your terms,” He flourished his hat and gave a little bow- though it hurt like hell to do so. He then staggered over to wave his hand through the box that had betrayed him. “Typical.” He muttered to himself. He clicked off the AR for a moment and took in witch boxes were real and which were not and he had honestly gotten lucky on the first one. He glanced over at the meg; a bruiser morph with mod crocodile skin.

Hot
[Why are you like this?]
Sord good. Girl hot.
[Orchid nice. Rat smol]
You get me Penny. You get me.
 
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Wrymwood: Stranger Tides
Blackguard's Cove​

The Meg retreats the instant her blade comes away bloody, standing off to see Vidar struggling with her wound; to end the fight, she holds her rapier up high - a wave of cheering coming up from the gathered crowd that evolves into cheering for the Meg's latest victory.

The Meg: [Definitely taking you up on a rematch once we've had our fun - hell of a match, that was. Hang tight, we'll see to your wound there.]

"Alright alright - Ti needs a medic, someone get over here and give a hand with this!" The Meg calls, her deep voice booming over the crowd. One of the pirates rushes toward Vidar and the Meg, a satchel slung over his back that he unlimbers and begins rustling through. The Meg helps Vidar over to a crate in the sand, lowering him down gently as the medic draws out bandages that glow with a soothing green light. Yasmin trots up to Vidar as well, worried for him and the very non-fictional wound dealt to his morph.

"We'll need you here a moment," the pirate says, the Meg holding Vidar steady as she unfurls a stretch of bandage from her roll, cutting them with a knife before applying them. They adhere to the site of the wound, and the medic - Camille Spooner on her sheet, @littlespoon_PToS on her rep profile - keeps Vidar sat there for a good twenty minutes while she 'performs the rituals' that help to head off the pain of the wound and set it on the path to a clean heal.

"Ah, you got him good Meg," Camille comments, otherwise focused on the ritual. "My little helpers are having a grand ol time."

"I'm sure he'd be fine for a little more action," The Meg teases with a slap on the back just this side of not-too-hard. "Good thing too, word is the captains are talkin' about a big score - one big enough for us to consider it worth workin together for."

"That's right, isn't it?" Camille - a free mage corsair, to tell by the way the arcane green lights slither up and down her arms - says. "Some kind of shipment from the new world, on its way to company holdings in the old?"

"Aye," The Meg answers. "Biggest score yet. Supposed to be a whole galleon. Captains and quartermasters are gathered round inside, I ought to be gettin' back to that. He gonna be alright?"

"He'll be fine, 'less he gets stabbed there again...." Camille says, half in jest as she continues the healing process. "Should be back to fighting fit once I'm done, and seaworthy within the day."

"Right - I'll have you for the rematch before long!" The Meg says, getting up and following the crowd that has begun heading back inside the tavern for more rollicking good times or for planning the raid to come.

Yasmin al-Rundi {TacNet}: [since I'm quartermaster, I suppose I could attend this meeting and keep you all appraised of the plan?]
 
Tuesday {Tacnet}: Go for it.
Tuesday {Tacnet}: The Meg agreed to a rematch so I think, I've made a friend. Put on a good show. That was the whole point. I think my work here is done.
Tuesday{Tacnet}: Also that's the most fucking fun I've had in three years.

Vidar had the ability to be stoic under the ministration of a medic but he also had a bad habit of giving them sassy looks and saying Yow with some of the strongest dad energy this side of Jupiter.

Heliotrope{private message to RJ}: Listen. I'm trying to decide if I want this lady to step on me or not. Let me know your thoughts if your conscious. attachment: Swordfite.XP
 
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"Are we... Certain, he's our captain? Isn't it an... Elected position?... Wait. No, he is your captain. If I'm lucky, he won't be mine."

Sleipnir {Tacnet}: Controversial move, I wanna join Meg's crew.
Sleipnir {Tacnet}: You think IJK but I think dispersing ourselves among a few different crews might actually be a good idea for when shit gets started.
Sleipnir {Tacnet}: Means that they might not find all of us at once, and we might have a few more friends to rely on.

He said, speaking more in the Tacnet than Truespace. Then he trudged over to 'The Meg', flicking the AR off and on when he didn't feel the wood boardwalks (not actually wood) give to the diving suit's weight. He supposed it would be even worse if he were standing on the 'sand' over there.

"Forgive my asking... 'Meg' But I desire a station aboard your vessel. If the captain I came with is foolhardy enough to challenge you, I question his ability to lead. Although even I must admit he's a good performer."

MarcusSpeedyBoi {@-rep}: Yeah sorry I know it's sudden but I think I'd have a better time starting with a more experienced crew. Nothing against him, but that guy isn't quite my speed. Is that cool?... Also, do you speak chinese? Really hope you actually understood all that stuff I said.
 
Yasmin al-Rundi {TacNet}: [there is something to be said for not being all in one place should the worst come to pass. I will attend the war council inside and decide from there.]

The Meg stops when and turns when she hears Myeongyang address her, giving the Mekanix an appraising glance before saying: “hey now, don't sell your own captain out so cheaply - they held their own back there, would’ve got me but for my hide. I have to wonder how cheap your loyalty is, that one lost duel has you questioning your comrade.”

BulwarkBess {Circle-@}: [just gonna ditch your friend like that? Cold, but...you ought to be able to sail with us, 'long as he's cool with it? Glad you’re impressed though, hopefully you’re not so mercurial under our banner. ;-)]

“But enough of such dour talk, let’s inside to drink to Ti Knifvar!” The Meg proclaims, Yasmin falling in behind as she enters the Blackguard’s Cove tavern-

“Sally brown, she’s the girl for me boys!”
“Roll boys - roll boys roll!”
“Oh Miss Sally Brown, she’s the girl for me boys!”
“Way, high, miss Sally Brown!!”


-and into, appropriately enough for a scum MARG, a rollicking time.

The Blackguard’s Tankard is three stories tall, with a great hall lit in vermillion and golden firelight. The din of raucous banter fills the hall, underscoring the fiddle and drum that adds a rousing song that reaches up to the second floor railings. The rows of tables are packed with pirates, all of them players from across the eldritch seas, all sat down for good food and drink, filling the hall with laughter and shouting or joining in the shanty rolling along. A bar at the end of the hall is turning out drinks as fast as the thirsting pirates come for them, and plates of food fly themselves to tables, delivering their contents to hungering mouths. The Meg and her entourage are welcomed into the hall, seats opening up on the benches for anyone left standing to join.

“It’s down to Trinidad to see sally brown boys!”
“Roll boys - roll boys roll!”
“Down to Trinidad to see sally brown boys!”
“Way high - miss Sally Brown!”


Above them, pairs of players have coupled for delights of a distinctly different nature. Some overlook the festivities, drinking in the warmth and the commotion, one leaning on the other; some are very busy with one another, and a few steal away out of sight, closing doors behind them, a few of them stealing away into rooms and closing the doors behind them. The air is filled with a blend of scents, among them enticing aromas of cooked meat, a hint of smoke from the fires and pipes, and the mix of morphs that fill the hall with life and merriment.

“She’s lovely on the foreyard, she’s lovely down below boys!”
“Roll boys - roll boys roll!”
“She’s lovely cause she loves me and that’s all I want to know boys!”
“Way high - miss Sally Brown!”


The Meg walks only a short way into the gathering, taking two tankards from an arachoid Mekanix with a cheers before handing one off to Yasmin, who takes it with the surety that Sidazi al-Qadash would. Tankards of ale are handed off to everyone willing to take them, a seamless process despite the surrounding chaos.
"To Ti Knifvar! He fought well, and stood his ground when cut!" The Meg proclaims, tankard lofted high.
"To Ti Knifvar!" Yasmin says, adding her voice and tankard to the response before all take their drink, the ale tasting bitter, sharp, and potent.
Yasmin al-Rundi {TacNet}: [this one’s for you, captain! Hope the medic’s being good to you - i’ll have them save a drink for you ;-)]

Turning toward the stairs leading up to the next floor, the Meg says: “Right - Sidazi, if you’re comin’ to the moot, you’ll want to follow me up to the third. As for the rest of you - there’s plenty of trouble to occupy you, I’m sure!!”
"Lead on!" Yasmin proclaims, tankard projecting loud enough to be heard over Roll boys roll!
With that, the Meg starts for the stairs, Yasmin following her up the stairs with an ease and confidence that seems to visibly surprise Yasmin herself.

Yasmin al-Rundi {TacNet}: [anyone looking to attend should follow me, I suppose - otherwise try not to get into more trouble than you can handle!! I’ll stream it to TacNet in case you want it both ways.]
 
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Abby wanders towards the sounds of singing, watching the way the air shifts with every verse, and eventually decides to sit in an unoccupied seat to help quell the moving floor. She waits patiently for the the song to come to an end, before trying to start up her own song.
"As I was walkin all alane
I heard twa corbies makin a mane"

Sadly from there it mostly devolved into humming. Lyrics were hard, music was easier. Even if the music playing didn't really match what she was humming, that was okay.
 
Yasmin follows the Meg up the stairs and past scum larpers fishing for a third partner for carnal delights, up to the apex floor and through doors that shut behind her under their own power-

“So, you’re here on behalf of the new crew, are you?” Yasmin hears Xinya address her in the voice of Cheng I Sao, snapping to attention. The room she finds herself in is is divided by a long table, over which is a map on parchment of the Atlantic Ocean, surrounded by parchments written in code. The ocean on the map is bordered by the Americas on one side and the furthest tips of Africa and Europe on the other, with ghostly projections of miniature ships shimmering on its surface. The Meg breaks left, joining admiral Cheng I Sao on Yasmin’s right. Sao gives Yasmin an appraising look, flanked herself by the frankenstienian revenant Katrina Hallow and the smirking vampirate Burke Black.

“My captain is having his injuries tended to,” Yasmin clarifies, nodding to the Meg. “My crew are partaking of the entertainments downstairs, and should hopefully be joining me soon.”

“Yes, i saw that your captain made a worthy opponent. I assume he is observing - My compliments to captain Ti Knifvar! It takes a swordsman of skill to land a strike on the Meg.”

“Skilled indeed-“

“There is something regarding our revenant duelist that i take issue with, however- ” Sao says, glancing back to the Meg before turning to face the captains opposite her, “-if I may interrupt our moot to deal with a crew matter?”

“May it be brief,” responds admiral Khyar ad-Din Barbarus, a towering free mage corsair with the features of a neo-neanderthal, a braided red beard, and an ornate costume that evokes the north african coast; he too is flanked by his officers, the wily neo-bonobo captain Anne Bonnie and the imposing, viking-pirate Gunnhild Ravenmoore. “The Indefatigable and her escorts won’t wait forever.”

Sao nods and looks back to the Meg; an invisible conversation is carried out. The Meg seems confused at first, then visibly flustered, as though having been caught out in a mistake. It takes no more than a minute before Cheng I Sao turns around, hands on the table: “The matter is resolved - now, back to the plot at hand.”

BulwarkBess {PM to MarcusSpeedyBoi}: [i have to apologize for being hasty, but...it seems i’ve spoken beyond my right. I told you you could come with us, but that was before i consulted with my crew, and i, ah, i’ve been given a reprimand by my crew for it. There was this whole thing with a player turning on their crew not too long ago, it really fucked things up for a while around here and people are really wary of players turning on each other and not wanting to start that kind of drama in the game. For now, it looks like you gotta stay with the crew you signed on with; maybe once you've been around for a while and shown people what you got, you can join up?]

Khyar ad-Din looks to Yasmin, a figurative fire in his eyes that verges on becoming literal as the glare from staring down Sao becomes something warmer. “Your timing couldn’t be better - you’ve caught us making preparations for what will be one of the greatest raids the eldritch seas have ever seen.”

Pointing to one of the ghost ships, Cheng I Sao adds: “so great, in fact, that our own crews have set aside our differences to carry it out - and the addition of your own crew could assist us further. The Imperium and Continental Company have pooled their resources into a fleet of galleons sailing for their thrones in Europe as we speak, loaded thick with the greatest haul in treasure and resources yet plundered from the native empires.”

“Any one of those ships would be a fine target, but the Indefatigable is the juiciest prize,” Khyar continues, the galleon’s projection rising from the map and revealing a hulking vessel: “her hold contains vast amounts of gold and treasures, rare reagents, artifacts of untold power, even something rumored to be so powerful it had to be sealed away in the hold. The Company and Imperium have worked hard to secure her contents, and our birds in the colonies could sing a sorry tale about the blood price they were willing to pay to acquire them - a tale that will end in the liberation of their cargo from their holds.”

“Provided we can keep her escorts busy and open her up to attack,” Cheng I Sao adds, a wave of her hand restoring the Indefatigable to a smaller place among a fleet of two additional galleons and three escort ships. “It will take our combined strength and then some to open up the ship to attack, let alone take her. We are in the midst of planning that effort - what make you of this?”

Yasmin squints at the ghostly fleet, suspended above the map and frozen on their course for the old world. She glances up at the captains from both fleets, sensing something passing between them but unable to parse it. She looks down at the map, only now seeing parchments surrounding it written in strange codes. She looks back to the ships, trying to think of how to plan an attack and drawing a blank.

Do we even have a ship?

Yasmin al-Rundi {TacNet}: [perhaps it would be better for you all to join me after all - there are things happening here that are beyond my grasp, just now...]
 
Machspeedyboi: [I get it, I've been stabbed in the back before. Guess I'll stick with 'Ti' for now. Still, if I'm around long enough, I'll definitely see if you've got a slot open.]

It was fair, to be honest. They'd been trolled hard, and he had to look suspicious. But... Well, he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. Then Yasmin mentioned that she needed them up top. Oof, those charts DID look complicated on the tacnet feed. He started lumbering to the stairs and sent off a message.

Sleipnir {Tacnet}:[On my way up. Doubt I'll be much help on the charts, but I did hit'n'runs during the fall. I can plan a little.]

Walking up the stairs in this heavy suit was tricky, but he managed without getting knocked over. Seeing the situation in person... He didn't see pirates. He saw his commander, trying desperately to find a way out of this nightmare of a situation. He saw other drivers, trying to suggest anything that made sense. He saw Her, the one who fit all the puzzle pieces in his brain. He heard her words, even without her mouth opening.
[Wake up, dude. You didn't drive in a hardsuit, and this shit ain't real. Snap back to the real, yeah?]
Wh-... yeah, you caught me. Thanks.

"This is our tactical situation?"
He said, looking it over. This fight would be tough, even with both fleets attacking the target fleet. It was too much like attacking the TITANs. The enemy was well-armored, well-armed, and generally real dangerous. Definitely not something the Vampirate fleet could take alone. But the TITANs always had tricks up their sleeves, too. Nasty surprises. Invisible escorts, hidden Deathcans, orbital bombardments... He could only guess what this fleet had in the wings.
"Can we be sure this is accurate? I fear they might have something hidden from us. Perhaps invisible vessels we cannot see? Or something beneath the waves? Without knowing this, the best I can recommend is to use long-range bombardment, and avoid close combat. If our cannons outrange theirs, we can fire at extreme range without risking close combat."
 
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"Abby- Abby," Vidar called after his new daughter, but she wandered inside like a waif tranfixed. "Devin. Our Daughter-" He said gesturing after her.

"She's a big girl. She's very high. I'm proud of her," Devin said, flopping on the ground next to Vidar. "I'm sorry the box betrayed you."

"I'm more mad she had on big fuck off armor. I hit her. Devin-" He said showing some of that hidden frustration.

"You hit her so hard," Devin said soothingly.

"She's hot," He said in dismay. He gave the medic a look when they snorted.

"I'm sorry you have terrible taste," Devin said, in equal dismay

"My taste in women begins and ends with being able to kick my ass, I'm a simple man."

"This explains. So much."

Vidar laughed and regretted it and the medic scolded him to hold still.

"There there," Devin said, patting his knee. "I'll still love you if you leave me for the Swamp Thing."

"RUDE."

"I was being. SUPPORTIVE."

"That was mean. You're grounded."

"You can't ground me. I'm an adult. I'm an adult and I'm allowed to be mean until I get punched for it."

"That's...true." He punched him lightly.

"I've been punished for my crimes."

Vidar made I'm watching you eyes at him and Devin shrugged backed at him.

"Oh no, we have to think," he said in dismay as Yasmin's feed came through. "Or at least Yasmin does."
 
And that was when Yasmin looked directly at the treasure map. He made a sad whale noise and down went his mesh. How many times had this happened today; three? twice. he couldn't remember. Real adrenaline was fun than adrenal boost or neurochem. Those had a way of spiking with perks and hardly ever came with the physical hot spike in his chest that lingered or made his eyes go hot. He'd rather go back to the nanoswarm boat than look at another map today. With out his mesh, the cargo bay was just a cargo bay, and he was just a small girl shaped nerd in a pink vac suit.
His mood dropped out and he looked up at Devin and said; "I think I'm ready to go home."
 
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“Long range bombardment oughta soften them up some, but that won’t get the goods,” Cheng I Sao adds. “Eventually we’ll have to move in to seize the prize.”
“We don’t need to add the ships to our fleet,” Khyar ad-Din points out. “We need just enough structure floating to offload their cargo, then they’re off to the locker.”
“Rather seems a waste,” Cheng-I-Sao comments.
“In any event, my comrade made a worthwhile point,” Yasmin interjects: “There are many unknowns to this attack. Do we know who the commander of the fleet is, or how they will respond to an attack? Does the enemy have any contingency measures prepared we should know about? Is there something about the area they could use against us - or we could use against them?”

All captains present consider her words, glancing up to each other, then down to the map, then across the sheets of parchment around the table; Yasmin, on a lark, picks one up.
“Intercepted letter from the Imperium,” Anne Bonnie says, anticipating her question. “One of the sailors of the Indefatigable thought to send it ahead his return.”
Yasmin squints at the page, but she has never seen ink shift and writhe like she does now: “why is it doing that?”
“Enchantment,” Burke Black answers. “Think of it like a magical encryption.”
“Could it be broken?” Yasmin asks.
“By those who can parse the text,” Burke answers, “and figure out the code.”
“Not a one of us have had much luck with it,” Katrina Hallow adds. “The men put in charge of this fleet must be taking their jobs secretly, that even a letter to someone’s sweetheart back home is so well-guarded.”
“We’ve got other pieces of intel like that,” Khyar ad-Din says to Yasmin. “Of course, they’re useless to us in this state - we’d have to crack them before we could get anything out of them.”
“Assuming they’re worth the effort,” Cheng-I-Sao comments, drawing an irked squint from Khyar.

Yasmin considers the parchment and its shifting text, data beginning to flow onto her entoptics from the game's UI on how to interface with the parchment: she makes an attempt, but the parchment's 'magic' seems to resist her efforts, as though it is a cloaked signal she has to try to find.

Atreides Apogee {TacNet}: [Comrades - i believe that these encoded documents could have valuable information that could both ingratiate us toward our comrades and assist in the effort to take the Indefatigable. I suspect they've been 'encoded' in such a way as to require a codebreaker - we would have a better chance if we worked together]
Atreides Apogee {TacNet}: [Further, I'm picking up on some tension between the captains. Some more specific information on the history of their enmity, perhaps gathered from among the crew, could potentially help us sway them toward whatever plan we come up with]

Just then, Yasmin realizes something: [wait - why is agent Heliotrope off of TacNet?]
 
hara: [we've had a long day, my dude, and we don't like maps here]

Devin patted Vidar's knee. "Man, home sounds great. Stop tempting me. Can I get you a wine instead?"
 

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