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[P]  did you hear the news?

Away Sis Lautna May 16 2020, 6:52 AM
#1
  • Age: 32
  • Gender: Female
  • Race: Dire
  • Rank: Quartermaster
  • Total Posts: 29
  • Played by: G
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Between Sis and the other hunters that roamed the seas, peace was not always (never truly) an option. For any rank and file of their rough numbers, it very well could be a fight on sight, conflicting goals or just the chance to scrape together another haul to line their pockets with one that put two ships at odds. Sis herself had done just that on more than one occasion when she'd been freer to choose her fights as she saw fit.

Things were a little DIFFERENT when you stood at the Helm. Sis, once a predator that might have stolen the prize from another's jaws just to have it now found herself bargaining with the rogues that lacked any such allegiance. Having an open port or hold for whatever they had on their patchy hides used to be a matter of simply being strong enough to wrest it from them. Now though, they tended to have more use to her alive than dead. And using what she had to get the job done WAS her job now.

She might not be the most book smart fucker on the block, but she was sharper than most people gave her credit for, skills honed to that deadly edge. Narrow eyes picked the eximius out from across the room as she rolled in, that red hide and regal crown of horns a snap of a puzzle piece slotted into place. If Salamander was here, Everett was almost certainly kicking around the docks somewhere. Good, maybe she could get more done than she'd thought. Her smile was genuine as she cut through the crowd, a bold line straight towards where the taller of the two sat. The heavyset dire made no attempt to conceal her presence either. No need to go being rude about it, they were friends today. At least, where she stood they were.

"Look who it is! Haven't seen you in a fuckin dog's age. Where you been?" Friendly with her hands on her hips, she nevertheless didn't sit. Not yet. This was their turf at the moment and she had no plans of souring the tense peace. Some Coryzans saw fit to start shit just because of which deck they stood on. She hadn't lived through the dire purge by being one of them.
Offline Salamander May 18 2020, 8:57 PM
#2
  • Rogue
  • Age: 28
  • Gender: Non-binary
  • Race: Eximius
  • Rank: Quartermaster
  • Total Posts: 53
  • Played by: Sbicy
160 Mana · View All Items?
Unless personally crossed themselves, Salamander is not the type of person to hold grudges. Being of the sea-fairing folk meant that there were only so many willing to do these jobs that set them apart from their families for months on end, and in the absence of entertainment rivalries bloomed just as quickly as they wilted. The shipment of goods, smuggling, slaving, all of it had some sort of ongoing competition. Black market dealing of praxi made the tensions ever thicker between parties, as there were so many left in the world and there, as far as anyone knew, was no one making more. Having returned to the ports of Dorsum yet again, Salamander sits on a terrace of a sea-side cafe. A cup of warm tea is before them on the table, the sickle-curve of their claw tapping softly on the ceramic.

Time to relax after a successful job was integral, yet they found their eyes picking the crowd for a familiar face. One, unfortunately, quite susceptible to the idle antagonism of boredom, they were driven to unorthodox methods of mental occupation when times were desperate enough. It wasn't at that point, yet, but they are glad for the scent that comes slithering into their nose. Nostril twitching, they turn and lift both brows at the figure making their way toward them. With a smile closer to a shark's rather than a man's, their tail thumps against the ground as if to imitate a wag to please the dire.

"That's quite the joke coming from you, darling. Have a seat, Sis, eat lunch with me. Let's catch up while we can still be friends." Their eyes have that glimmer to them, the one of a wolf in sheep's wool. Salamander had spent too long hunting dire not to feel that inward tick whenever near enough to taste their beastly scent. Still, they had spent even longer reigning in their control to not be dominated by instinct. "Oh, you know, here and there. Recently made a trip to Svalbard--blech. Everything going well on the... whatever the name of your ship was again?" It's a tease they toss, fingers pinching the spoon from the napkin to stir some honey into their tea and take a long, languid sip.

"Want me to order you something? I do love to give treats." A dark, forked tongue pokes out from between their lips. They were sure that she got an earful of dog jokes before, but that didn't stop them from trying.
Away Sis Lautna May 24 2020, 4:04 PM
#3
  • Age: 32
  • Gender: Female
  • Race: Dire
  • Rank: Quartermaster
  • Total Posts: 29
  • Played by: G
70 Mana · View All Items?
She quirked a wry brow as she strode closer, the pantomime of a wagging tail one that wasn’t lost on her for a single second. Technically, she’d fired the first shot with her quips, but the perhaps tasteless joke provoked a laugh anyways, choppy and heartfelt and out of place in the almost refined little lunch spot. “‘Course, I’d love to.” She didn’t hesitate to claim a seat directly across from the eximius, bulk leant against the back of the chair as she soaked up more sun shamelessly, only the salt stiff white dress to keep her modest in the slightest. It was a nice day and she planned to make the most of it. Sometimes that meant stirring the pot and sometimes that meant leaning back and letting it all soak in. Time to find out which side of it she fell on today, if not both. “Y’know I aim to please, Sal.”

The disclosure of where they’d been got the first truly unplanned expression from her. If it hadn’t been Salamander, an eximius she knew where she stood with, she’d not so much as turn her head, never mind curl her lip like she’d smelt something rank. What a wretched trip to make, one she’d be full glad not to make herself. She certainly hadn’t planted herself in opposition to the power hungry nation, what with her allegiance to Corzya and its king, but that didn’t mean they liked each other. Moreso that Svalbard hated her than her holding a grudge against them if she were honest. “Svalbard? Ugh, what a slog that musta been. Catch anything good out of it, or just the regular grind?”

“And Midsummer’s Moon is doin’ just fine, thank you. Mini says hi. They’re all perfectly happy to not have to play fetch whenever some puffed up client says so.” The mix of emotions that lurked in brief hints on her face is an interesting one, one she doesn’t mind showing this day. A slip of a mock snarl at their convenient amnesia regarding her ship, the pride and pleasure she held in her new job, that eternal disdain for the client facing side of Coryzan business. Tit for tat today, as far as she was concerned. Couldn’t get no one to listen to you if you were busy being a shifty, secretive bitch about what was going on. Mini and the rest of her crew had nothing to worry about here, at least that she knew of. If ever there was a time to make these connections, the better.

“Keeping everything squared away and the supplies moving suits me a lot more than trying to get along with some royal that’d skin me as soon as work with me. For as long as that little promotion of mine lasts, anyways.” It’s a very deliberate inclusion, that last drop of information. Honest, a true sentiment, but shown to Salamander for a purpose. Life was work, and just because she was about to have a fantastic little lunch with someone who might be able to give her a helping hand didn’t mean she had zero angle to it all. They’d have to work for it, though. Nothing came free, and she might be doing them a favour here.

“And as much as I appreciate the offer, nah. I don’t eat on someone else’s coin, quick way to turn a friend into a fight. Could get me a sip of something if you wanted though. Lemonade is all the rage here, I hear. Not often Mini lets me off the leash enough to get whatever I want. Keeps saying I'm wasting money.” The pun was snuck into the sentence with an amused curl of her lip, very much pleased with herself and the continuation of this little game. She planned on having her fill here, of words and food both. Dorsum was a hell of a place to eat, the vegetables were always fresh and the seafood was fantastic this close to a port. She certainly wasn’t about to put her tab on Salamander’s wallet.
Offline Salamander May 29 2020, 5:36 PM
#4
  • Rogue
  • Age: 28
  • Gender: Non-binary
  • Race: Eximius
  • Rank: Quartermaster
  • Total Posts: 53
  • Played by: Sbicy
160 Mana · View All Items?
There were few people terrible enough to be on Salamander’s shitlist, and even less of those few would not be invited to sit with them. They are a character that plays each scene as it airs, worrying little about the next until it is upon them. Hedonism demands a fixation on the present and what can be obtained right this very moment, not whatever the future might bestow based on some formula. It is thus one of many reasons why Salamander does not have any quarrel with Sis, though they do enjoy teasing her when they do meet. Being opposite sides of the same coin, both in race and profession, they found it quite easy to find a camaraderie in her.

Sis sits at their invitation, the return of her pun bringing a low, rish chuckle from their chest as they tip back their tea. They watch her bask in the sun, head tilted back and exposing the delicately soft column of her throat. An intrusive thought worms its way through the cracks of their demeanor, recalling with a twitch of their fingertips around the clay how headey dire blood tasted.

”I didn’t get as drunk as I had planned when I was there, so that was disappointing.” Plated shoulders roll in a shrug, ”Alas, my sobriety was rewarded, so I cannot complain too much, I suppose. Less Conri strike me down for pettiness.”

The eximius smiles with mischief at the half-hearted curl of Sis’s lip, ears lifting to catch everything she says in reply.

”Ah, such a difficult business we toil in, wondering if your client would prefer you as a coat or a cute, leather tote bag.” For a moment, their expression pulls down in a genuine look of stress, though it doesn’t last long. Their composure breaks back into a grin, ”Got your nose down looking for work, Sis?” Picking up the proverbial note she’d slid across to them, their response is quick and candid. Finding personal projects to earn some cash on the side was not uncommon among the seafaring folk. Ocean patterns were unpredictable and often violent, leading to delays in work and pay. It didn’t hurt to have a little stashed in your belongings should hard times arise.

”Aw, always making me work for your trust. Mini is anti-fun, isn’t she? I’ll see if they can put it in a bowl for you.” A proud snicker leaks from their mouth, ”But, if you’ve got any leads on side jobs that need bodies, I’m there. I’d love to work with you more, darling. Hard to find agreeable folk in this place.” Could definitely be attributed to the fact that they were all smugglers, pirates, slavers, and everything in between.

”Get my furry friend here a lemonade, hm?” They pay for the drink when the waitstaff comes by after noticing another body present at the table.

”Speaking of furry, I’ve never seen you in your dire form. What color is your fur?” Chin resting in their hands, they lean their elbows on the table--staring at her with rapt attention like anyone would at an adorable puppy.
Away Sis Lautna Jun 9 2020, 1:37 PM
#5
  • Age: 32
  • Gender: Female
  • Race: Dire
  • Rank: Quartermaster
  • Total Posts: 29
  • Played by: G
70 Mana · View All Items?
She eyed them with that typically wide grin that rarely slipped off her face, content to bask in the breeze for the moment. It was a lovely day, and she intended to make the best of it. Speaking of… ‘Got your nose down looking for work, Sis?’ She wavered her hand back and forth at that, her feelings settling somewhere in the middle of the sentiment. “Ehh. Depends on where you’re sittin’, I guess. I’m dottin’ my I’s and crossin’ my T’s at the moment. I like to make sure there are options to be had.”

She isn’t one to beat around the bush and after another evaluating glance, she continued, a more furrowed brow her only sign of discontent. Very few realized that Sis happened to be the dog that growled while wagging her tail, and fewer people outside of Corzya saw that particular behaviour in action. It took a certain kind of situation to draw it out of her and while Salamander wasn’t likely to get bit this go around, it didn’t stop that little snarl of discontent that hid behind a smile. “Don’t suppose you’ve heard all that mess with ol’ Churchill and Alastor?” Voice deliberately level, it’s an aside comment. Testing the waters, for sure.

She rolled her eyes at the mention of the bowl, only a delighted curl of her lip speaking of her intent to continue this little war of attrition, with her as the butt of the joke. “She is at that. Swear, she thinks I am her child some days. You’d think she’d raised me instead of the other way ‘round.” Her gaze shifted as she glanced at the waiter, and she was quick to get the rundown of the menu and her options. A roasted salmon with lime and a heaping sandwich for her, another lemonade to back up the first, and an orange for Sal. Sis wasn’t shy about the food, not for her and certainly not for them. Once it was ordered and the waiter had actually left, she cocked a brow in their direction, the puppy dog look getting a scoff from between salt cracked lips. “Light brown with some dark brown and grey. Why, curious? Could show ya, if you wanted.” It was said with a sharp smirk, something vicious lurking in her corners. Her four legged form was for the best of friends and the worst of enemies and seeing it was likely to slot you into one of the two categories, whether you liked it or not.