The orange light met Dereck at face value as he ran, stinging his eyes that were still filled with shock. What would his captain do to him once he told him? If he were lucky, he might be get off with a dozen lashes. Maybe he’d take his finger as a warning? Maybe he’d string him up by his feet on the highest mast for a day? He hoped his mood was well after all the drink that was in him.
Dereck entered the bar signalled by the creaking noise of the old doors opened with force, followed by a gust of dusty wind. The scent of wares outside that were close to their spoilage date did not much good to the taste of the grog, but grog wasn’t Dereck’s concern right now. For a second he found himself addressed by a young woman, but he brushed past her. She wasn’t his captain. No, that honor went to the fat bastard at the frontmost table. The captain was clearly the most sober out of the three, if only because not enough time had passed for him to drink enough to get his fat ass drunk. He’d need about two barrels of this cheap stuff to even get him tipsy.
“Captain, we’ve got a problem!” Dereck shouted, loud enough for the entire bar to hear. “Our treasure got stolen, it did! ‘T was some crazy woman, bit my sword right in half!” He bore his shattered cutlass, as if it was some kind of evidence. Dereck barely held back tears as he feared the fury of his captain’s no doubt merciless response.
With a splash a figure leapt from the water and onto the shore. Her silvery hair seemed almost unfazed by the salty water of the ocean – the most convenient and important of fishwoman benefit genetics, she could tell you. She hoisted her burlap sack of pillaged booty over her shoulder. Gold and glimmer stuck out from several sides, bound to catch the attention of the greedy. Zarya paid it very little heed. In her mouth was a large, pink fish that lively struggled against her grasp. She was also deaf to the fish’s pleas; not that any human could hear the poor fish beg, anyway.
Zarya looked around her, noticing the many vendors that had set up shop by the waterside. Some glanced in her direction, but most appeared to just go about their usual business. There was no bread to be won in staring at some stranger, after all. But they had duly noted her. She looked like a troublemaker, and bounty hunters might pay a fee to whomever pointed them at troublemakers, after all.
With her free hand, she scratched the side of her head. From her filled mouth escaped a few noises that indicated moderate confusion. She wandered about slightly, aimlessly. ”This isn’t where I docked my raft…” she murmured inaudibly. She jerked her head, flinging the fish into the air and swallowing it whole as it came down. She wondered what to do, but decided quickly and approached a nearby vendor. ”Hey you, do you know where I can exchange this?” With this being such a popular destination for pirates, there was no doubt there was someone who would be able to curate and buy the treasure from her person.