H'okay, lot to unpack there.

So, no skill transference. About what she expected, but still good to confirm. Which means that at any point, anybody has to be able to do all jobs. Or, no, wait, everyone has to. Everyone has to know how to do the jobs, including their own, and below in the chain, because logically, if someone is taking your badge, it's probably someone below you, which means there's now a gap for you to fit into if you can steal their badge from them in return.

Fuck, they really did a number on that mountain, too. She [i]liked[/i] that mountain. The Azura would never built or move or arrange an imperfect mountain, but they occasionally might make an oversight, right? And so there's a tiny spot on the west end of the mountain, got a perfect little grove with, if you can imagine it, no line of sight for a crystal dragon to see the giant space mirrors? Shady, cool, has a nice little stream running down the center of--

Had. Had a stream. Probably has some glassy pebbles, now.

What jobs does she actually know how to do? She could [i]probably[/i] maid inoffensively? It's a good job, but not one she really envisions for herself for the rest of her life?

(Ignore, for the sake of this argument, the coughs and fits of an imagined Brightberry, stalking from one pile of debris to the other and gesturing emphatically. She [i]likes[/i] the state of chaos. It means she knows where everything is, thanks much.)

But that's kind of the point, isn't it, is that this [i]isn't[/i] a permanent position? Learn enough to do well in a job, and then figure out who's next in the line, how to do their job, and how to steal their badge. 

Unless… If they're not doing their job, their badge will be stripped by their superior. Who superiors for the captain? It's basically inconceivable that she could get in on that, because the captain is the one who's got the most to lose, the most protections in place, the most qualified to rule or at least the one most capable of [i]maintaining[/i] their rule. A useful thought to keep in mind, but even then it doesn't guarantee that the captain themself does not have a superior. Hrm.

Gee, that ship is getting close. She should probably be trying to escape, shouldn't she?

But also…

"I'll admit that biomancy is one of my blind spots," she says, more to the ocean than to Tidal, talking aloud. "It's one of those things where, like. If you're mastering sculpting, you might make a thousand vases, right? Or bake a hundred loaves, or forge a hundred swords, or give a thousand speeches, all in search of that perfect one, right?

"But when your product is alive, it feels…"

And…

Well. 

If, hypothetically, you don't get to that point, right? 

If your house, for instance, is full of the discarded refuse work of past projects. Clay pots that have been left unattended until the clay goes hard and dry. Figurines, glued together, but sitting in front of jars of paint accidentally left open, crusting over with sludge. Architectural mockups, half-detailed, miniscule blades of grass glued across half the lawn before moving on to a different project and probably accidentally sat on..

They're not abandoned, right? She's put them down for now, let that field lay fallow. The clay can be rewetted, new paint can be acquired, the building can be rebuilt. 

But if you do that to something alive, then you can't just shrug that off. Someone has to live with what you've done besides your longsuffering dragon bestie.

And yet.
And yet, already, she can feel the questions welling up. What does she need? What does she know? How long did it take you to learn? How long did it take you to craft that persona? Hypothetically, if someone had a birthmark, how hard would it be to tell you'd done something grossly illegal? What were you before you were Tidal Specialization? Who were you? 

And perhaps more importantly, who will you be once I take your badge? 

She shivers, staring at Tidal like an awl at a particularly tempting bit of leather.

"It's something I want to learn, if you're willing to take me as a student."