The boy tried to hide his dismay, and Hanabaptiste could tell that it was time to wrap up tonight's lessons. Undil Thraddish wasn't built in a day- it was silly to think the boy would be quoting from [i]Conversations [/i] by the fortnight. Still, it was a little disheartening to find out he didn't know the entire alphabet. She had her work cut out. 

"Te,... Miss Seuville" 

The boy certainly knew how to lay the charm on thick, though, as he looked up at her with his big blue eyes, curly mop of hair framing his cherubic face. If she didn't know he was liable to bite a finger off, she'd pinch his cheek. 

"Rheoann." The Captain's voice wasn't loud, but Hana felt the deep rumble from where she rested on the railing. Before she had realized what was going on, the boy was jumping over the railing and flying off as a cyradan. A knot of panic formed in her breast. [i]What was going on?[/i]

---

Pieter took a hearty swig, feeling the bloom of warmth fill his chest. Ah. Nothing better. Well, maybe good bacco' for the pipe. He liked the finer things in life. "There's prolly a priest in every damn port in the world, since it's not like there's someone handing out certificates. Most of the ones you meet calling themselves Sea Priests or Priests of the Salt are idiots who'd get you an them killed by a damn selkie. The one's who actually know what they're doing? Less of us, but more than you'd think. Most people ignore us even if they know we exist, thinking it's just sailor supr'stitin or something. Which is fine, don't matter to me what a lan' lubber thinks of the Salt." He fell silent, puffing on his pipe before passing it to Uban. 

"Heh, as for the tattoos, lad, ye won't believe what a merchants dau-"

"All Hands."

Without a word between them, Uban tapped out the pipe over the side and Pieter corked the flask. They passed back their respective vices and turned, going in separate directions. They knew what they needed to do.
---
Wheel hadn't waited after the Captain dismissed him, he had gone straight belowdecks to fetch his cutlass and pistol brace. The curse made itself known that it was happy. That suited Wheel fine, the thought of violence was putting him in a good mood too. He ducked his head as he pushed open the door to the weapons locker, reaching to take his sword without needing to look. Strapping the sheath to his belt, he took the musket that was kept on the wall, slinging it over his shoulder. He was ready, now for the others. Moving with startling quickness, Wheel retrieved a brace of pistols along with shot and powder for them and the musket, in his other hand he held a pair of sheathed daggers. 
Bounding up the stairs two at a time, Wheel met Uban first and held out the weapons silently, letting him take a dagger and pistol as they exchanged a nod. Wheel went to the cannon, where Pieter had already begun to ready the weapon. Placing the remaining pistol and dagger next to the sailor, Wheel began a slow patrol on the deck, eyes and ears straining the darkness.

---
"Captain, what do I do?" Berlin eyed Hana steadily for a moment, then nodded his head towards the stairs. "Go to your quarters for now, we can discuss what to do in this situation later."
As Hana clattered down the stairs, her thinking only caught up to her when she realized the implications of Berlin's words. These situations weren't uncommon. She had begun to forget that this was a [i]pirate[/i] ship. Sage's grace, what had she gotten herself into?