[center][img]https://images2.imgbox.com/a8/b5/xHNz9NyO_o.png[/img] [color=red]& Friends.[/color][/center] [hr] This guy reminded her of Benny. Ismette managed not to roll her eyes as Desmond outlined his big plan for roleplaying pirates. So much… enthusiasm. If only Hugo could’ve seen him, but the doddering old fool was back in his tower, busy scheming, as she knew he was wont to do. She pushed thoughts of him aside. It was nice to be back here, in the place where she’d lived before making the trip to Ersand’Enise. It had changed a lot since the last time she’d been there, of course. Certainly, it was more… piratical than before. Probably not things that I should share, she thought. At least Desmond had ‘assigned’ her to the Mermaid’s Knees. That had been more smirk suppression. There was no way for Stubbies (humans) to know that it was common Mycormish innuendo. She walked up the steep road, hair fluttering softly in the nighttime breeze, nostrils full of the scent of this place, listening to the ambient noises of passerby, people in bars and taverns, and crickets beneath it all: chirping away with concerns so far from those of people. She decided to test the improbably tall human girl she’d been placed with. She figured that Trypano would pass a glance check as yasoi, but not much more. How about linguistically, though? Ismette thought. “So, how much yasoi do you actually know?” she asked in the language. “What do you think of this place’s weird name?” She gestured with her chin up the hill. “How ‘bout that, eh?” Trypano was walking whilst seemingly looking at her fingernails. In truth she was keeping just as much an eye on their surroundings as she was on what she was doing, listening just as well. Closing her hand then outstretching it the change was subtle but a thin edge of glass was formed in the edges of her nails. A subtle tool, nearly imperceptible without closer examination. The very sheen of the glass was masked by the red paint upon said nails. [color=crimson]“Some. Enough to carry a conversation.”[/color] She cast a glance up to the sign on the bar as they slowly made their way up the road. [color=crimson]“Afraid that’s an expression I haven’t run across.”[/color] “At least you recognize it as an expression,” Ismette interrupted briefly, shrugging. “So we’ve got something to work off of.” Trypano nodded back in acknowledgement. [color=crimson]“I plan to let you carry the bulk of the conversation. Just in case, however, any tips I should know going in?”[/color] The yasoi pursed her lips in thought for a moment. “Not about to lie: I’ve half a mind to play hooky. I could care less about rescuing some princess.” She sighed. “Might be worth its weight in gold, though.” She was totally playing into yasoi stereotypes now, and she knew it. Still there was a grain of truth to most of those for a reason. “Anyways, yeah,” she continued, settling onto topic and ticking points off on her fingers. “Keep your clothes loose so you can pass for yasoi-ish. Mermaid’s knees aren’t knees. ‘Means ladyparts.” She blushed a bit. “Everyone in there’s a darkhead. Be ready for a lot of weirdos and some out-of-place aggressive stuff.” She paused before listing a fourth. “Have a shiny to fit in, but don’t covet shinies or try to trade for them. It’s not human stuff. There are nuances you’ll miss.” She flashed a quick, reassuring smile. “And don’t worry. I’ve got your back.” [color=crimson]“If my suspicions are correct I doubt the princess will necessarily need rescuing.”[/color] Trypano was listening along, stroking her chin contemplatively whilst taking in what Ismette had to say. The yasoi grinned in knowing agreement at her words. [color=crimson]“The mysterious captain is what we’ll need to know most about. If there’s any chance of them being a mage then we’ll need to know what their focus is and why they’ve taken the holy artifact. Odds are strong that they’re not just planning on ransoming something like that back to the kingdom they took it from. A high profile thief would likely have a buyer already in place before the theft even takes place.”[/color] Trypano was a worldly sort despite being something of a shut in. A veritable trove of miscellaneous knowledge from various different sorts, be it from helping her father and brother with the business or during her time serving as a nurse as part of her medical studies. She’s met a fair number of people from many walks of life. Taking note of her recommendations Trypano started sorting through her given garments, adding give to the laces and straps amidst her outfit in order to provide the ‘looseness’ that was recommended for her. Given what she had mentioned it made relatively good sense. Pirates were already a mixed pot of both sailor and convict cultures. Over at this bar they’d be throwing Yasoian customs into the blend as well. [color=crimson]“In any case, let’s play our part and get this done so we may both return to more important business.”[/color] “Preach it, sis,” Ismette tossed back, also tossing some hair over a shoulder. The rambling establishment was drawing near. The usual drunks were streaming out and future drunks were trickling in. Ismette kept her guard up but paid them no further heed. “You know, we cause a big enough calamity and force people to draw their magic,” she said, twisting back to look at Trypano, “we can skip all the social junk and just smoke out any bigtime mage.” Trypano’s eyes moved from figure to figure, taking noteworthy details down whilst listening to Ismette’s words. [color=crimson]“As a Binder by primary practice I am required to discourage violence as our main means of progression.”[/color] With a subtle motion of her hand she brought something to her mouth. It was a neat trick she had picked up from her study at the secret blood magic practices, re-contextualized for a more suitable size. She slid a thin slice of sponge beneath her tongue, a slice of Sign of The Mushroom to be exact. It would be useful since the possibility of her attempting to ingest liquids that may have negative effects were strong at an establishment such as this. As long as she didn’t end up swallowing the sponge filter it’s effects on her own fluids were minor. [color=crimson]“From a practical standpoint if we were to initiate a conflict we’d likely be targeted by the very mages we’re looking to smoke out. Furthermore it’d likely alert every pirate on this island to our work here including The Maria Nera’s crew.”[/color] She produced from the satchel that was lent to her by Desmond a single gold coin, passing it from finger to finger in her left hand to lend more authenticity to her disguise. [color=crimson]“Let us keep that option as our plan b for now. There will always remain the possibility of resorting to force if the situation worsens with few exceptions.”[/color] A goody-good, then. Ismette was rather weary of the type. The funny thing was that she hadn’t specifically said anything about violence. There were… other ways to cause a calamity, after all. Regardless, she forced an agreeable smile. “Sure,” she relented. “We can do things the hard way.” The truth was that they probably wouldn’t find much of note here. That said, Ismette would have the chance for a bit of fun and that was always nice. She reached down, loosened a few buttons on her blouse for the men, and put on a bit of a strut. To the large, tattooed bouncer, she tossed a coin and a wink. “My friend and I would love to spend some time with a successful crew tonight,” she chirped, stopping on the spot, chest out, playing a bit with her hair. “You wouldn’t know anyone like that, wouldya?” The doorman blinked and looked her up and down none-too-subtly. “Vyrachi’s crew’s had a few good scores lately, going after Perrench ships since all the Revidian ones are paranoid these days.” Paranoid why? Ismette wondered for a moment, but then she remembered to thank him and traipsed on in. “You coming, Tryps?” she called, twisting as she walked. Maybe it was a lead. Maybe this wouldn’t be all play after all. Trypano watched Ismette speak with the bouncer who watched the door, prying for info through flirtatious means. Trypano herself hadn’t oft considered her own sex appeal for she was far too concentrated on her studies to really try and make anything of it. It was not to say that she neglected her upkeep and aesthetic but in truth a life led in social isolation had made her not only socially awkward but almost shy to an extent. Her peers had always looked at her with suspicion and fear due to the superstition tied to her unusual appearance. It was only fairly recently over the last few years that men around her viewed her in a sexual capacity. Whilst Ismette blended into the role quite naturally Trypano found herself still trying to adjust to it. As such she could only muster a modest nod as she skirted along with her partner. Though her face was cool it was only through sheer focus that she masked her awkwardness. Perceptive as Ismette could be, she was quick to notice her partner’s poorly–masked discomfort. “It’s an acquired skill,” she whispered over her shoulder, hair flicking as she twisted back. “Stick close to me until we’re in good with them and they’re rip–roaring drunk. Then it won’t matter.” Indeed, Captain Vyrachi and his crew were not far at all, occupying a couple of large booths and amply supplied with alcohol, food, and women. The captain’s purple velvet hat with feathery plumes was unmistakable. After all, ‘Vyrachi’ meant ‘Bird of Paradise’. Yet, as the two interlopers walked, a number of things may have been surprising. First came the numbers and disposition: there were simply fewer people in here than one might’ve expected fro, the entrance and they seemed unusually unruly. Even as they entered, Ismette and Trypano noticed at least two new fights start up. Second, was the size and layout of the place. There was a bar, of course, with the usual set of merrymakers. There was a bedraggled-looking musician being hounded to play this tune and that, and a ragged chorus that chimed in with undulating enthusiasm. There was a dance floor. There were card and dice tables. There were wenches. Yet… the inside area did not seem to match the outside and it soon became obvious why. There was a small hallway towards the back corner, obscured from view by dark curtains. People seemed to slink regularly down it and back, almost… wary of being seen. A couple of even-less-reputable-than-usual characters seemed to be hanging around nearby. Finally, it was the magic: there were copious amounts of energy in the air from a source that would’ve been unfamiliar to most humans but all-too familiar to most yasoi. The majority of it was unmistakably concentrated somewhere down that hallway. Ismette didn’t turn to Trypano. Instead, she slowed and her eyes did all the work. “You seeing what I’m seeing?” she asked in Avincian. Ismette certainly was perceptive, noting her discomfort. Perhaps she wasn’t concealing her outward impressions as well as she had hoped? Her companion had a plan nonetheless which was of some comfort. Not having to steer the situation was a relief as her forte wasn’t talking, especially not in a language that she might know but not have a full cultural fluency in. The interior certainly painted a picture. Since the bar seemed to cater mainly to yasoi it made sense that there were fewer patrons to this one than most others. The yasoi were becoming more and more reclusive after all, their presence in places outside of their homelands notably scarcer. Aside from the captain and his crew who were making good money off of attacking Perrench ships the overall mood of this area seemed fairly downcast, the sort of feel you’d get heading into a pub in the slums during a recession. This was all undercut with something different. Very different. The air felt almost electric, saturated with energy that she could almost tangibly feel against her skin. Her blood was keen to draw magic from the surroundings after all, a trait of those of her blood type. It was all concentrated in one area, an area hidden away from outside eyes. [color=crimson]“I do. We should…”[/color] Answering back in Avincian she hesitated, wondering if this might be a detour from their original intent in coming here. [color=crimson]“- See this.”[/color] She wasn’t about to throw away the chance to document a phenomenon and perhaps expand her own understanding in the process. Ismette nodded slowly, pursing her lips. “We should divide and conquer. I’ll see what I can get from Vyrachi and his crew. You should check out the backroom. I… have a feeling that communication will matter less over there.”