[IC] There's no land out there. [Pirate/fantasy roleplay.]

[Marshal]

Order's had been barked out, but Azren had not budged from his spot, leaning against the railing and gazing out into the water. His gaze remained far off, to the point of where the sky clashed with the water. Though he knew that they truly did not clash, he had spent many of his younger years chasing after such things. He couldn't wait though, he was now truly excited that they would be embarking soon... Embarking to deeper waters, where the most delicious morsels resided. His mouth watered so greatly that the moment he started to yawn, a bit of drool slipped right out and down his chin.

Awkwardly glancing around, Azren wipes his chin off quickly, letting out a faint, nearly silent laugh. Slowly he turns his head to look around, people were still moving about, though he couldn't see the captain any longer. With a slight shake of his head, several of the dreadlocks falling into his face, he briskly started back bellow deck. He would have tons of time to gaze at the water, he had to at least look like he was being useful and do something. Actually, he had a question for the human captain, finally. The thought had faintly been on his mind when he had arrived, but now that they were setting sail, it became a bit more worrisome in his mind.

Did they have a reliable navigator? And if so, who was it? While Azren did have a tiny bit of trust in humans, he did not trust them with matters he could do himself. At least if he was not feeling lethargic, that is... Though seeing as they were on the water and he actually had a chance at a potential meal, he would be energetic until they hit land elsewhere.

"Caaaaptain!" Azren calls out rather loudly.

[Knotteray]

Deren had claimed a hammock, setting his things under it. How he'd map things out without his room, he wasn't sure. He's figure something out, he supposed.
A soft voice spoke up behind him, and Deren turned around to see the man who introduced himself while on his ship, most likely after he had slept on the ship. Deren still wasn't happy about that.

"Do you have any prior experience with navigation? If no one else offers up their experience with navigation, you may be of use. However those eyes might be best further up, keeping an eye out for anything, you understand Kale?"

He looked Caelyn up and down - he was taller than Deren - trying to decide what other position he could give the man. Possibly he could catch them fish? He wasn't quite sure. The main problem he faced was that nearly everyone here had never been on a ship, so they didn't have skills set for a ship. Himself included.

"Caaaaptain!"

Another person, fantastic. Deren's eyes snapped over to another man. Wren? Wren.

"What is it, Wren?!"

---

Finally after unpacking all her things, Mahrji walked out of the captains quarters. Or hers now, to put it more accurately. Most of the stuff was sewing supplies, and some clothes.
She looked around the deck at all the different people. Most of them seemed too scary to approach - even the other women seemed frightening or like they would look at her with spite. Deren was nowhere in sight, and she wasn't too keen on looking for him right now. Let him do his job right now, she reminded herself. You go get to know people, because he certainly wont.
She walked over to a nobleman and a redheaded woman, and spoke up, with all the politeness she could muster.

"I'm sorry to be rude, if I'm interrupting anything, but may I ask your names? My brother is... dreadful with remembering names, I'd hate for him to forget yours."

Or call you a version of your name, or worse, a nickname he made up. For the first ten years of her life he called her Mary, she corrected him only so many times before she gave up trying to do so. Eventually he got it right, though. Eventually.

[Arrayah]

"Vance Meridian, At your service, M'lady."

Ignia found herself taking a step back, away from the man, as if she was frightened. In a way, though, she was. Never had anyone bowed to her as an equal or called her "M'lady." These were things much above her class and place in life. The fact that he was doing them, when she was sure he knew exactly what she was, made her nervous. Was he trying to get her to do something that would get her in trouble? Was he manipulating? He seemed genuine, but she'd never actually come across someone who was. Her guard was up.

However, before she could respond, a woman walked up to them. The captain's sister. Ignia took another step back, a bit overwhelmed. She had thanked Neis earlier because people did not usually treat her kindly, but now two nobles were treating her as if she was an equal... Ignia was certain the girl did not know what she was, or perhaps had not thought about it much.

"I am Ignia, Miss. At your service, of course." Though not as submissive as her introduction to the Captain had been, it was still formal. She followed her name with a low curtsy, showing her status if nothing else had. "Please, if you need anything at all, I would be..." here she paused. It was always this word that had her cringe on the inside, even if it was true. "I would be grateful to assist you."

It was strange to her, that slavery forced her to be a certain way. The strangest part though, was that Ignia was naturally that way. If she was a free woman, she would probably still want to help those around her. She'd still want to treat people with kindness and respect, but... she was not free and she didn't have the luxury of being anyone else. It was this that bothered her. That even though she was not different than she would have been on her own, she did not actually have the choice to be herself.

[Uruvion]

Vance notice her backing away from him and it concerned him, though he made no change in his expression to show it. He watched as Ignia introduced herself to the other woman who approached them, noticing her hesitation when greeting the woman. he made a mental note to ask her about it later.

He looked over to the woman, not realizing he was the captain's sister. "Vance Meridian" he said, more plainly than he had said it to Ignia, though not being rude in his tone. This one was not dressed as a slave, but he knew looks could be deceiving. Some slaves were dressed well by their masters, depending on the money or status that they carried.

"My brother is... dreadful with remembering names, I'd hate for him to forget yours."

"Ah, I also suffer from the ailment that causes one to easily forget names." He said, almost proudly, seeming like he was looking for a kinship of personalities from the crew on this ship. Her gave the woman a slight bow, though not as low as the one he gave to Ignia. "May we have the pleasure of your name, M'lady?"

[LovelyAnastasia]

Arren stayed in the kitchen, fingers flying, doing at least four things at once. Bread for tomorrow, preparation for tomorrow's breakfast, tonight's dinner, tonight's dessert, estimations of rations and food supplies, as well as rum and meads. The heat of the oven and stove had made it hotter in the kitchen than it already was in the humidity if the wanning day. Throwing open a window with a small grunt, the rust red haired creature sighed as the salty breeze drifting into the galley, rolling his shoulders. It was something strange to this body, the feeling of stress from so much work. Funny enough, it was not that it was too hard, it was just that it was different. Even having been a noble, Arren had worked. Was it fair of others to sit and laze about all day when there were people just below them hurting themselves as they worked their hands raw?

A little girl sat plucking sharp feathers out a hen when the door opened and a morse looking governess rushed in. The girl frowned, but looked down, as if to avoid shame by avoiding eye contact. "Miss... Miss, please... Ye should be studying... What do ye think ye be doin' puttin' calluses on such pretty hands?"

Arren looked at one hand, the strong fingers holding the knife. Pretty? What could be more pretty about hands than the stories they told thought scars and calluses? Unworked hands were ugly and uncomfortable. Many nobles had hands like that, and it disgusted Arren. With another sigh, Arren finished up the work she was trying so hard to focus on. Shaking her head sharply she brought herself back to reality. Coarse, cold, and callus. Tough. It was Arren Viper now and that was what he had to be. And the sun was slowly sinking to the sea and those bumbling bitherheads would be storming the kitchen once more if there wasn't a meal set out on the long table. Stacking plates and mugs, it was quick work setting everything out. They weren't yet too far out at sea that it was choppy, so the heavy set stayed on the table well, as did the vast arrangement of food. Climbing the stairs, Arren set foot on the deck. With a deep in hail, Arren let out a the loudest shout he had ever had the pleasure of presenting to the youngly bound crew.

"OY! DEADLIGHTS 'ROUND RIGHT! DINNER TIME, YA SPROGS!"

Thus with that, Arren turned right around and head back under to the galley to get his own meal. If they didn't hear, it wasn't on him. It'd be their own fault if they went hungry tonight. And he thought none of them might like that tomorrow, since that's when the real work of being on a ship might start. It would be interesting to see if any of those more suited for land would a bit sea sick. If that was the case, they'd have to eat plenty of green apples. And Gods knew they had a ton.