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[sup][b]Ahh…
     The smell of flames… 
              Like freshly snipped roses…[/b][/sup]

   [color=silver]Llaier danced through the shadow and flickering orange glow of rising embers from kindled planks. She watched the soaked planks sizzle as vapor floated upward and bubbles formed along their surface. There was a sudden ‘[i]pop![/i]’ as the boiling water swelled within a large wooden block and expunged a dangerous mist directly into the face of what looked to be an imperial man donning the colors of these pirates. It scalded his face and seemingly disoriented him in the chaos, which Llaier found considerably funny!

     She slithered over as she often did, clumsily, bumping into a orcish pirate near the side of the ship that was locked in combat with one of the Fortune’s deckhands. She wasn’t all that interested in this orcish fellow, so she simply bent down at the knee and wound back her fist before punching the orc directly into his unmentionables. Llaier was not the most brawny of wandering jesters, but strength didn’t matter all that much when using the chaos of a burning ship to get a free critical blow onto what would be deemed a annoying bystander.

     The orc which she assaulted did not have all too much time to react. But the outcome which followed stoked laughter quite immediately, both from Llaier and the Breton deckhand that was fighting the pirate. The jester watched as the orc buckled, falling to his backside and reeling from pain with low guttural grunts rumbling out from his tusked jaw. The masked dunmeri woman continued to cackle as she watched the scene, though from the outside looking in— it might’ve been horrifying for a masked silhouette to be hunched over a wounded orc loudly making sounds of merriment in such horrifying circumstances.

     The mirth continued, but in a strange fluid motion that came without warning, Llaier’s claymore slid out from the scabbard at her back and she spun in a half-circle and with an extended blade. It wasn’t practiced or skillful, the Breton deckhand might’ve even thought it was accidental, but steel met thick orcish skin and sinew.. crimson liquid spewed into the deck as the partially beheaded pirate fell limp along the side of the ship.

[sup][color=2e2c2c]“You could’ve been more clean about it.”[/color][/sup]

[color=#D2C2FF]“What do you mean? The poor lad was felled in one blow!”[/color]

[sup][color=2e2c2c]“You’re right, but look, he’s still connected at the spine.”[/color][/sup]

[color=#D2C2FF]“Should I give it another swing?”[/color]

[sup][color=2e2c2c]“No, a messy job’s funnier.”[/color][/sup]

[color=#D2C2FF]“That’s what matters most.”[/color]

[sup][color=2e2c2c]“Let’s get back to examining that imperial who’s probably blind now.”[/color][/sup]

[color=#D2C2FF]“If he is, we should pretend we’re a pirate like him.”[/color]

     She'd then mosey her way on over to the imperial pirate who'd gotten steamblasted in the face by rapidly heated water. Llaier watched as the imperial man clutched at his face and screamed in agony, to which the dunmeri jester just watched silently from the sidelines. There were signs of blistering where his leather gloved fingers gripped into and she knew that once that hand pulled away, some of his skin would be dragged along with it. Beneath her vile mask she simply smiled from ear to ear, blissfully entertained at the cacophony of inferno, violence, and catastrophe surrounding the ship. If things went poorly, couldn't she just swing on over to the pirate's ship? She was sure if she had given them a little show they might let her stay aboard to entertain the bored men that spent months on end at sea. 

 But then again..

      There were others who seemed to be keeping things at bay. Fellow strangers who found themselves aboard this ship just like herself, but she hadn't spent much time speaking to anyone aboard other than that one khajit aboard that kept asking her for skooma; she did have some on her but it was being saved for a special occasion! Perhaps she'd find some weird chemical aboard and put it in a small vial to convince the poor sod that it was his coveted drug? Llaier had the utmost confidence that she could sell it to him, not for coin, but for a favor or something else entertaining.

[i][sup]'Shhhwip![/sup] ..... [/i] [b]"Ahhhh![/b]

     There it was! Like a dinner bell ringing in the jester's ears, her wandering mind came right back to the mortal plane and her attention fully focused upon the imperial who'd just decided to pull his hand away from his face. It was a terrible sight really, raw reddened and bloodied skin exposed as multiple layers were peeled away. [b]Out with the old, in with the new![/b] That's what Llaier thought to herself, but all this imperial pirate would hear was hysterical laughter. Llaier dropped her claymore to the floorboard and sat down with her knees tucked in, wrapped her arms around them, and began absolutely yowling like a hyena for the man to hear. She pointed at him, and even though her face was completely concealed by her faceless mask, it was plainly obvious that behind that strange reflective surface her face was twisting into one of absolute mockery of the man. And what else did he see?..

   His own face, disfigured beyond repair bar some horrible deal with a daedra.[/color]
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