Arren let out a small sigh, slumping forwards, red hair falling in front of his face. Bless the Gods, that was finally over. The last one to arrive exuded an aura of someone unpleasant, and there was no way he was going to stick around someone like that. He'd take the Suck Up over Mr. Creepy. With a small yawn, those sharp green eyes had watched Cap'n Pretty Boy carefully, his regal expression changing at each person's introduction. Pressing his lips together, Arren frowned. 

The red haired pirate watched the captain saunter off to meet a man with many dogs, before throwing his back over one shoulder. Hmm... Arren paused to watch the captain, who seemed a little less arrogant than before, with a renewed interest. A kind of soft farewell from a nobleman? Arren had been around many noblemen. None of them were kind or tender, unless it was in cowardice or greed. Interesting man, this captain. Might not have to jump to another ship after all.

A small feline-like grin washed over Arren's face, before it was quickly controlled and he returned to being expressionless. Once the captain turned and started walking back towards the ship, Arren turned on his heel and started up the plank to walk onto the deck. An older man stared at Arren for a moment before returning to whatever it was he had been doing. A twinge of irritation passed through the red-haired young man. Then a man who smelt of whiskey brushed passed him, started below deck. Arren followed, listening carefully, even if it didn't look like it. With first pick, Arren chose the hammock in the darkest corner of the room, farthest away from the loo, tossing his sack on the swinging bed.

[i]Kitchen. Kitchen. Kitchen. [/i]Arren went over to where the kitchen was and looked around with more signs of life in his youthful face than ever before. Ah....kitchen. It was by no means nice looking or at all perfect, but Arren could help with that. That was if their cook, if they had one, would allow it. Or he could just take over as cook. It was either cookin' or killin' for Arren. Those were his two talents besides sailing. And preferably he'd chose the first. It would keep him busy. A sort of lazy smile crossed his face as he picked up a large butcher knife.