As the captain walked of to a man, the crew boarded the ship. Alexandér wasn't interested in the captain and the man, he wanted to look around the ship. He always had been a curious fellow and he wouldn't be surprised if it would kill him one day. But if that happened, he atleast died by something he loved doing. After some time, the arrived at the 'sleeping' quarters. Alexandér was one of the last ones inside and quickly claimed one of the hammocks next to the door. He placed his bags on the floor and looked around. It seems like most people packed one bag, two bags tops. But Alex always packed more than he actually needed.

After claiming his bed, Alex walked around the ship and found the kitchen as first thing. He walked in and saw some people talking. It sounded like they were not having a friendly conversation. Like there was a tension in the air. Not wanting to join (or starting) a quarrel, he left the kitchen in silence. There was also nothing of interest inside the kitchen for him, at least, not until he was hungry. He walked around some more but found nothing of interest.

He sighed as he decided to go outside. There blew a soft breeze and the smell was salty. He walked to the railing and looked at the water. Alexandér wasn't sure where he could help on the ship. He was a bad cook so he wasn't going to help in the kitchen. He could read and write, but only up to a certain point. He was good with numbers though and never had trouble with reading maps. Ah well, Alexandér thought. I'll just wait for someone that needs help and see what I can do. That way, I can enjoy the weather for the time being.

Watching his crew mill about was as boring as watching paint dry. Deren leaned on some of the railing, trying to see if any of them would actually bother to ask questions or approach him. None of them did.
It looked like he'd have to go around asking the questions, what they were good at and such. He checked his pocket watch. Ten minutes until they were off.

Deren walked down, passing a few men looking off into the water and a nobleman - Deren did seem to look him up and down before carrying on - he was speaking to someone. Nessy? Ness? Someone. He went down some more stairs as he went into the sleeping quarters and into the kitchen, passing a man who had fallen off his hammock.

This was his crew so far. The man who had fallen was... Az... Something Az. Or was it Wren? He gave up trying to guess his name. The man helping him up was Kale. He was sure of this.

He supposed first he should try to find a decent cook - since the cook would be needed sooner than the rest of the positions - as the men here had been getting food from their wives or daughters, so the kitchen was unused and stocked. It was not, however, stocked with a cook right now.

"I don't suppose any of you know how to cook an edible meal?"

His voice was raised, as there was a bit of tension in the kitchen. It would do him no good if someone got killed so soon, they didn't even have a surgeon. Deren looked at the redheaded man, looking things over in the kitchen. Another 'A' name. Arin? Hell if he knew. Other man was Sullivan, something like that.

"It's fully stocked, if that's what you're wondering. I assume you're capable of cooking something that isn't burnt to a crisp?"

Deren cleared his throat and added, "What was your name again?"

Arren hair tied to one side and his sleeves rolled up, he almost looked a bit more decent that usual. More like a noble. It was why he refrained from doing things like this too often around others. Being cold and driving them away was easier to deal with and troublesome things bothered him. He was half way through examining the kitchen supplies, most of which looked neglected and could use a good cleaning. The door had opened before, but he hadn't turned. Seemed like whoever had been there had scurried off anyway. The second time the door opened, he glared down at the knife he was examining. Curious bunch weren't they?

Finally he looked up, one sea green eye glancing over to the large man standing near him. Ah, Pretty Boy was back. Arren had to take care not to smile in amusement at the new nickname. His piercing gaze raked slowly over the captain once more, the mere hint of a barely restrained smile still at the corners of his mouth. He had too look back down at the knifes just to compose himself once more. A cold and blank looked finally froze back onto his face.

"I don't suppose any of you know how to cook an edible meal?"

"Aye," his voice was soft and short in reply. A silence drifted through the air. Tilting his head to one side, leaning on the counter, he put the knife down, slender fingers still lightly touching the hilt. His gaze slowly sifted back over to the captain, the tilt of his head only allowing a small glimpse of the scar that was hidden, before he stood up straight and turned around. Crossing his arms over his chest and crossing his ankles as he leaned back, the red hair man stared straight back at the captain.

"It's fully stocked, if that's what you're wondering. I assume you're capable of cooking something that isn't burnt to a crisp?"

Arren had to smirk a bit at that. Could he cook? What a question. This captain was in for a pleasant surprise once he had some IIlitin food. Nothing was better than Illitin cuisine. Well, in his very biased opinion. He tilted his head to the side, as if thinking for a moment, no expression on his face. Those green eyes gleamed with amusement, despite his cold blank look.

"Aye," he said once more, that voice sounding a bit louder than it often was. And it sounded odd, more clear than it's usual raspy whisper. The amusement on the red haired man's face sober immediately. He turned his back on the captain, grabbing up a knife and a bowl, placing them on the counter. Leaning over, he picked up the sack the freckled girl had brought in earlier. Ah, she might be useful.

"I'll need help," his voice was back to it's normal quality, "Perhaps you can spare a slave every once in a while. It would be vastly appreciated." Filling a large pot with water, he put it on the stove and started to get to work. Pick through the kindling, he started with smaller sticks and then put two things of wood on those. Kneeling on one knee almost gracefully, he looked up at the captain, putting his chin in one hand as he stared straight up at him, waiting for the fire to build up.

"Arren," he mused, that full smile on his face unusually warm and amused, making him look a lot softer than before, till that hardness returned as he gave a chilling grin and added, "Viper." Turning to get back to work once more, the red haired male acted as if nothing had happened, the crystal beads in his hair clattering together with every turn of his head.

Azren was a bit shocked while he laid there under the hammock, his eyes wide as he stares up at the stranger offering a hand and help on how to actually get into the cursed contraption they were supposed to sleep in. So... THERE WAS A TRICK TO IT. HE KNEW IT! And now he was going to learn it from this kind fellow, Caelyn. In truth though, he was not fully sure on how he felt about learning something from another, at least directly. All of the interactions and 'human' habits Azren had learned from his own observations. Even his 'gemcrafting' skill wasn't directly taught, it was all from observation. If anything, it was one of his greatest skills, which is why while playing human, he made it his worst one. It kept things much simpler that way. And sometimes, simple was best.

Carefully reaching out a hand from under the hammock, Azren grabs onto Caelyn's hand with a strong grip, pulling himself up with relative ease. He glanced over the other male, who was just a few inches taller than himself. In true comparison though, Azren was smaller built and the few inches in height seemed much bigger than it actually was. With a light shake of his head, Azren offers the man a large, child-like grin, which was followed by a rather calm but obviously excited tone.

"Yup, my name is Azren! Its a honor to be able to actually introduce myself, Caelyn!" Excited, oh yes, so excited to the point he forgot he was still holding on tightly to the others hand. He might have thought of giving it a good shake while re-introductions were going off, but it likely slipped right out of his mind the moment he started talking. He didn't even seem to notice the traffic of others, or the captain, or the hostility he could feel radiating from the kitchen!

"So there is a trick to it? I knew it!" Azren manages out in a breathy sigh. "Is it about the balance? Or maybe you just don't jump on it? It slightly bothers me that my bag filled with rocks is better at this than I am but I won't openly admit that to everyone else. I faintly recall getting tangled up in one of these for nearly two days before anyone found me last time. I am honestly a bit glad there are others around the sleeping quarters this time instead of being stuck in a room by myself! Have you been on a ship before? I have a couple of times. And each time I just slept on the floor. Also, uh. I like your cloths!"

When he got absorbed in talking, he really did sound like a kid. He barely took a breath between any of his sentences and was looking rather intently at the man who had so kindly decided to help him out. Azren seemed harmless enough, and for the most part, at this moment, was true. He was genuinely happy that this human had decided to help him. Now the real question that sat on Azren's mind was... how was he going to pay this fellow back? It might seem like such a simple thing, teaching someone how to get into a hammock without flipping themselves over, but it was actually kind of a big deal. Dragons helped each other from time to time, and often gave gifts in return for such help. Did that still apply to human standards? Its not like he could just give him a pile of gold, could he? No, that would be too much and too weird, he noted. Maybe... just maybe, he would give him one of the shiny rocks he had in his bag? That could work, he decided- WAIT. No... A better idea. A much better idea popped into the dragons head as the grin merely remained plastered onto his face.

Ignia's hand went to her heaving chest, startled by someone calling out. When she turned her attention to this man, she was taken aback. The captain had looked noble to her, but this man he... well it was just too much. Even her Master, who owned slaves, didn't look like this. And what kind of attire was that for a ship? Of course, she supposed she couldn't speak considering what she was wearing. Still, it was strange. He seemed cheerful, almost, as if he had no idea what he was getting into. And that smirk... it sent a shiver right through her. Nothing good would come of that smirk, and for some reason, Ignia was sure it was for her.

Instead of focusing on the noble, she instead turned to the man a few feet away from her. It didn't take much courage to walk up to him. Ignia was a slave, but she was used to talking to people. After all, her Master used her for entertainment at parties, people were always commenting on her dancing or singing skills, despite the fact that she was technically property. Although, sometimes, they complimented her Master as if he had been the one doing those things.

"Hello! It's..." here she paused, trying to remember. "Nëis.. right?" She smiled a bit, trying to look friendly. "You don't really look like you want to talk, but I figure if we're going to be stuck on this boat together for however long, we should all get to know each other. Besides, you're up here too, so I guess we have that in common, yes?"

Again, she turned to the railing of the ship, leaning over it. "I wonder what the Captain will make us do. I'm not sure I have many skills to contribute. I can do first aid, but nothing serious. I'm not a doctor or anything, obviously," here she gestured to the bands around her wrists. "All I can really do is silly stuff. Dancing, singing, that's not useful on a ship. And I can cook, but not like.. a professional or anything. I'm sure someone here is better than me at that too." Ignia turned to look at him again, not sure if she was annoying him. "What do you think he'll have you do? Do you have skills?"

The man hadn’t even moved away before there was a woman taking his place--Ignia, it was--and Nëis felt somewhat overwhelmed. As it was, though, he decided he might as well fake an interest. There was no need for dissension in the ranks, or the distrust that came from not forming camaraderie, as forced as it may have been. He knew that sort of stigma well enough.

“Hello! It’s…”

Her hair was a fiery, devilish red, more so than the other redhead. It was barely natural, being as bright as it was, and though it looked strange, certainly, it could therefore be thought of as exotic. He could see why she was a slave. There was no sort of excuse in that, but it was what he assumed would be the truth of the matter. He didn’t care to ask to see if he was right or wrong, though.

“Nëis.. right?”

He nodded, fine to keep silent. There had to be others to speak to, more sympathetic or more interesting to a person. But, no, here she was, and here he was.

"You don't really look like you want to talk,” no, he didn’t, he really didn’t, “but I figure if we're going to be stuck on this boat together for however long, we should all get to know each other. Besides, you're up here too, so I guess we have that in common, yes?"

It felt like they had the same amount in common as all humans did, in the embodiment of breathing, eating, and sleeping. He didn’t feel any particular kinship in standing on a ship with another. It was unlikely they were like-minded, being a slave and a free man, but he had been surprised by less before.

She leaned, and he stood up more, drawing away from the siding and straightening his back. An attempt to end a conversation that went unseen. She spoke, and he listened, looking for either an end or an anchor.

He looked to her wrists when she displayed them, drawn to the shine of the silver. They were pretty, but they didn’t look exactly decorative. Slave finery, if it could ever be called that. He’d seen it before, but not up close. It looked heavy--not quite visually, but there had to be some sort of… baggage to that.

"All I can really do is silly stuff. Dancing, singing, that's not useful on a ship. And I can cook, but not like.. a professional or anything. I'm sure someone here is better than me at that too."

Silly things. The mention of dancing brought back memories that he preferred not to dwell on, but with nothing else to distract him that was exactly what he did. Dancing was popular in Reicnin. He knew it was the same for everywhere else, too, but Reicnin took it to another level entirely. If there was any sort of event, there would be dancing. A good harvest, there would be dancing. A death, there would be dancing mixed with the mourning. It was used as more than just enjoyment or an art form, it was more spiritual, meaningful. He was a terrible dancer.

She looked at him, and he kept his gaze firmly forwards. "What do you think he'll have you do? Do you have skills?"

For a few seconds, he didn’t answer, gathering himself. Remembering ‘sociable, and why to be it’, a lesson his mother used to try to teach him. It never worked out, but he wished she was still around to try to beat it into him.

“I do not know what he’ll set me to doing,” he said, “I don’t feel I have the best skills for this setting.” He didn’t feel like continuing, but nor did he want to leave her with the impression that he was entirely useless. “I used to make--salves, tea remedies, things like that. I still do, when I’ve the time. It isn’t useful, but natural medicines can help with a great many things.”

He thought that was fine, then--an anchor. She could do first aid, and he could do… something a bit like it. His mother always told him to find something in common, and that was theirs, though he may have been reaching a bit. He didn’t have much to say to her, aside from answering her question.

“I hear it can be tedious, to be locked away on a ship for weeks on end. Perhaps we will need a little entertainment to keep us in good health.” He thought mostly of home when he said it--singing and dancing was all that was ever going on, it seemed. If there was any sort of entertainment on the ship, he’d be likely to skip out on it, but he knew what a little levity could bring to a group of people that might otherwise be at each other’s throats.

His father always told him he was ‘just fine’ at pretending to be softened. Honeyed words, indeed. He’d never cared for the sweet stuff himself.

Vance gave Nëis a small nod in thanks for answering his question as he boarded the ship, unknowingly walking behind the captain. He stopped for a moment, looking over to Nëis and Ignia, who started talking, giving the woman a warm smile before going below deck to get to know the rest of the crew.

As he passed the sleeping quarters, he assumed that was where the servants would be bedding, he couldn't help but over hear them talking "Yup, my name is Azren!" After that, the talking didn't seem to stop from that one. He wasn't one to be easily annoyed but he knew that this might go on for a while. He gave a glance their way as he made his way to the kitchen.

"I don't suppose any of you know how to cook an edible meal?" He overheard the captain say as he entered the kitchen. He watched the one who called himself "Arren" get right to work. "Right to work, what a good servant" he thought to himself, unknown to him that the 'servants' sleeping quarters would also he his, and that the work that needed to be done while on the ship would be his to do as well.

Grabbing an onion from the counter, he walked a bit away from the others. With a quick hand gesture, he tossed the onion into the air behind him, keeping in mind everyone's position so no one got hurt. He quickly unsheathed his rapier, turned and sliced the onion in half, grabbing the dagger from his belt, he threw it into one half of the onion and it stuck into the wall next to the stove. Using the tip of his rapier for the rest of his display, he cut the other half, which was quickly falling, into quarters and with two quick thrusts speared them onto the tip of his sword with near perfect accuracy, hitting the middle of each piece. His stance was that of a professional swordsman, obviously well trained in the art of fencing.

After giving a proper salute, he walked over, pulling his dagger out of the wall with the onion still attached and placed it on the warming stove. He raised his blade to his face, taking a bite out of the pieces of onion that were still attached with a smirk on his face. He was impressed with himself. After clearing his sword of the food, he re-sheathed it, along with the dagger in his belt.

"Vance Meridian, at your service" he said with a slight bow to the one also dressed in a nobles clothes. He could only assume that he was addressing the captain.

“I hear it can be tedious, to be locked away on a ship for weeks on end. Perhaps we will need a little entertainment to keep us in good health.”

At his words, she looked over surprised. Now, Ignia considered herself a good judge of character, and well. This man practically embodied the phrases, "Leave me alone," and, "I'm not interested." So of course, it was a bit of a shock to hear something come out of his mouth that was... somewhat comforting. She wasn't sure if he was just trying to be nice, or if he really thought that way, but it didn't really matter. Instead, she gave him a wide grin.

"I appreciate you saying that. Maybe you're right. Hey, at least we'll be useful if anyone ever gets a minor cut, yeah? Better than that guy!" She said with a nod toward the door that the noble man had walked through. "You know. I'm not sure, but you don't really look like you're from money. Have you ever wondered what it was like?" Here, Ignia stared out at the water, trying to let only curiosity color her voice. "I've always wondered what it would feel like to have so much money I could do anything, go anywhere, be anyone."

Ignia paused then, looking out at the waves. It was true, that she'd often thought of this, but she would never say the reason, though she was sure it was probably clear. Ignia had always wondered what it would be like to have so much money that she could be free. It was a strange thought, freedom. She'd never known anything but her life with Mr. Octave. She had no idea what being a free man was like, and yet, she still longed for it. Sometimes, she began to think that maybe it was part of everything's nature, to want freedom. Even a dog will whine when it is caged.

Caelyn never expected the over-enthusiastic reply that he received from Azren, so much enthusiasm in fact that Caelyn's hand started hurting under his surprisingly strong grip. Caelyn tried his damn best to not make any kind of grimace on his face, and he thought he had succeeded for the most part. "The trick is, to hold the hammock still with one leg, and very carefully ease into the hammock, much like a boat, if you apply too much force or pressure to one side it will tip." Caelyn demonstrated as he slid into the hammock. He slowed it down a great bit so that Azren, could truly see the act he was doing. His mind the entire time returning to his hand, this one is strong. He will be a good ally to have, and a grin found its way to his face.
Azren was very excited, a feeling that was very foreign to Caelyn, but he had to admit, it was contagious. Soon, Caelyn found himself grinning all the wider and even let a bit of laughter slip out. He cupped his hand on Azren's shoulder to help him ease into the hammock. "There my friend, if there is anymore services I may provide you with, do not hesitate to ask." After thinking about what he had just said he turned and quickly added. "Well not ANY but, any questions you may have. I will gladly try my best to help."
Feeling satisfied, with himself for helping someone on day 1, Caelyn moved on to the kitchen to see if he could scrounge up some grub. When he walked in he saw a man flash out a rapier and cut an onion in half. "Arrogance is a weakness." Caelyn thought to himself. This man was skilled with a blade, and he wanted everyone to know it. Caelyn made a mental note to not take this one lightly. "Nicely done, might you cut one for me as well?" Caelyn asked with a grin. "Vance was it? Ah back home we used to have a cow named Vance, it didn't end well for him." Caelyn said it a solemn tone. Nothing wrong with poking a little fun at someone who has a ship sized ego.

Mentally, Azren was a bit shocked. He really should have just gone to people to learn things instead of observing everything like he had been, so foolishly just observing and struggling with things. But here, this human, Caelyn, had put it into such simple terms that even an infant could understand! The moment the kind fellow had used a boat as an example, Azren understood it nearly right away. In his time, he had tipped a few boats, some large, some small. Mostly just because they were there and it seemed like fun at the time, nothing beat the sound of terrified shrieks. Though it bothered him slightly that he could not make the connection between a boat and the hammock. Maybe because one was more thought of as a a nuisance and the other an annoyance? A bit of a snort escaped Azren. Both practically the same thing.

"Uh, yeah! I got this now, thanks!" He says to Caelyn before he leaves for the kitchen. Pleased with himself, now that he was actually sitting on a hammock without falling off! Lightly he rocks back and forth, still grinning from ear to ear. It sort of reminded him of a swing that he had seen a few nobles on, though it looked different. Hrm. A sudden thought crossed his mind was he suddenly flops back with a sudden groan. True to his teachings, the hammock didn't flip him. Even distribution of his weight across it, he wasn't going to go flipping off unless he tried to roll around or something of the such. Which he wouldn't. He didn't feel like having to pick his bag up off of the floor, and all those rocks...

Slowly Azren would push himself up from the hammock, a sigh of relief escaping him as he didn't land on his ass for once. He now owed a human a favor, that was something he was sure of. His stomach rumbled somewhat, but as he glanced towards the kitchen he decided it would not be a wise idea to crowed the place. With soft, nearly silent steps he sets about making his way above deck once more now that he had claimed his bed and learned how to actually use it.

Upon arriving above deck, he glanced around. Though he was not particularly looking at anyone or anything. His blue-grey gaze seemed to almost be staring off into some unseen place, a small smirk still upon his features as he quickly hobbled up to the railing. Others might have been around but he was not paying them any attention, he could only hope they would do the same. His gaze sets firmly upon the water, his stomach suddenly rumbling rather loudly. So close, yet so far.

He couldn’t imagine that anyone who didn’t come from wealth had ever not wondered what it would be like to have money, to live comfortably. That was all his brothers tended to do when they weren’t working. Talking about what they would do with all the phantom money they would earn from a job they didn’t yet have… Nëis tried to avoid doing that, getting his hopes up. Now, though, he could hope all he wanted--this was a lucrative opportunity.

“I have wondered,” he said, leaning forwards on the ship’s railing. It was getting close to the time the Captain said they would be setting sail, and he didn’t feel entirely prepared for it. “But soon, in time, I believe I will know.” Perhaps they all would, but that was beside the point.

Ignia quieted, and he looked at her out of the corner of his eye. Introspective, and eyeing only the waves. He could understand, more or less, her meaning. Slaves were what their masters wanted them to be, nothing more, nothing less. He had no particular feelings on the matter either way, slaves had their uses and disuses.

“You will never be freer than when you are on the sea,” he told her. “Here, we are going wherever our Captain desires, and no one knows us. You may not be wealthy, but you may do what you wish. I intend to.”

He was not a slave, he couldn’t say he had any idea what it felt like to be owned and powerless. But he knew what it felt like to be bound by the trappings of law and class, and he couldn’t feel less like the lowly farm boy he had always been than when on the sea. He felt like he could breathe, live days on end without going hungry. That was all he wanted.

The last thing Deren had expected was for what seemed to be the entire crew to crowd around in the kitchen. Yes, now they come over to talk to him. When he actually had things to do.
Back to Arren, the cook. He wasn't exactly friendly, judging from the few words he spoke. That didn't matter, he just needed a good cook.

"Well then Arren, congratulations, you've been demoted from noble to captain's cook. As long as my food isn't poisoned or anything that has to do with reducing my life, we should be fine. You may get someone to work under you, if anyone else has no other use."

He gave a curt nod, as it seemed both of them wanted to get back to what they were doing. Deren was about to, when a noble - twice as dressed up as him - walked in. The man Introduced himself. Of course, that was after he made his captain burst out laughing by eating a raw onion.

"That's the first time someone has ever tried to impress me by eating a raw onion! Hats off to you for originality, though!"

Deren had covered his mouth with his hand to cover up his laughing, trying to not be rude. The man had displayed some impressive swordsmanship skills, but he wasn't sure what to think about the man himself now.

"If you'll excuse me Lance, I do need to find myself a navigator. I'm sure we'll get you in some position where those skills wont go to waste."

He made his way out of the stuffy kitchen, looking down at his watch. It looked like he'd have to find himself a navigator a little bit later. Right now he had to get the rest of the crew ready and started on moving this ship.
Deren half walked half trotted up the stairs and onto the back of the ship, where there was a good enough view of him and where his voice would carry out even to the people on the opposite end of the ship.

"Untie the ropes! Open the sails! One of you get to moving that wheel, yes just like that! You over there, don't be leaning on the rails!" There were orders shouted at anyone he could find a finger to point at. The ropes securing the ship to the docks were untied, the sails were unfurled, the man who had too much whiskey was at the wheel and surprisingly good at it, and a few other crew members scurried by, trying to make sure things were in place.

---

"Miss, you can't get on that ship! It's already leaving, see?!" A man yelled, grabbing onto a woman's wrist to prevent her from boarding the ship leaving the docks. However, she carried a large suitcase and while throwing it onto the ship 'accidentally' hit the man in the head. She let out an almost insane laugh, and grabbed onto one of the nets attached to the ship.
Mahrji let out a yelp as the rope dug into her hands, but held on tightly. She made her way slowly up the net, and tumbled over onto the deck of the ship. She sat up and brushed off her fur coat, as well as smoothing out her lavender dress.

"I expected a little bit of help, but fine."

Mahrji glanced about the ship, looking for a familiar face. She saw many she did not recognize, and finally her gaze landed on the captain of the ship. The grin she gave was almost joyful, and would be, if it wasn't accompanied by a drawn out lowered voice meant to be threatening.

"Deeeereeeen..."

With that, she ran up the stairs - startlingly fast considering she was wearing heels - and slammed into her older brother with a hug. Deren let out an 'oomph' sound and took a step back, not exactly having any time to react to what had just happened.

"You ass," she let herself get a solid punch in on his shoulder before going back to squeezing him. "You told me you were sailing tomorrow, and you said I could come along! You lied to me!"

Her words became muffled as she buried her face into his cloak and shoulder. After a brief moment, she looked up at him again with her big brown eyes.

"So I'm going to be taking your room."

Deren stared down at her, and blinked a few times. His room was the only nice room, and though he wouldn't want his younger sister to sleep with a bunch of people who were most likely criminals, he didn't want to sleep with them either.

"No, you're not. We're going back and getting you home."

Mahrji shook her head and smiled politely before walking back down the stairs. "No we're not, and yes I am." With that she dragged her suitcase behind her and walked into the captain's quarters, then threw out Deren's suitcase before closing the door.
That was that, and she was staying on the ship. And Deren knew she'd refuse to leave.

"... Steer a bit to the right, then go forward! I'll be one moment."

Deren grabbed his suitcase and lugged it behind him as he walked into where the rest of the crew was sleeping. Now to find a navigator.

Arren grit his teeth as the arrogant mule who entered the kitchen started to fling things around and play with his weapon in the close quarters. What a child. It was so hard not to smack his hands with the wooden spoon and sent him out of the kitchen with the threat of going without dinner. Or just punch him in the gut and toss him out. So many choices... He sneered at the overly enthusiastic man with his arms crossed over his chest, a sharp cold look piercing into the other person. It held all the regal fury of a nobleman with a bad temper and all the poison of the viper he was named after.

"Aye...'Demoted'..." he smirked, after the captain left, leering after the sauntering form quiet unabashed. Well, at least the ship had one good thing to keep him in a more pleasant mood. Well, at least for a little while only... Too bad it never seemed to last with his hot temperedness. And bloodlust. Things that never served any noble well. Especially not when- Argh. It was better not to think on it. Deal with one problem at a time. Like the problem of someone riffling through what was now his kitchen and slinging about their weapons as they liked in the close quarters.

"How 'bout next time you wish ta' play with toys, you do it outside'a my kitchen?" his soft yet sharp voice hissed, "'Least you'd be likin' more raw onion for meals on th' rest of this trip." He gave him an icy grin and brought his large butcher knife down on the meat next to him, the sound of crushed and slicing flesh as well as cracking bones almost sickening. He hadn't even been looking, but he had cut it perfectly in half with one slam of his blade. Swiftly taking it out he point at the arrogant man.

"You're weapons sully my food," he growled, then pointing to the door, "Out." Him and his rapier could kindly stay out of his kitchen. Flinging it around like he was some laird pissed Arren off. And the Viper wasn't known to be friendly with idiots. Well, the bread for the morning was going to taste a bit like onion thanks to his little show, but maybe if they had some rosemary and garlic Arren could cover it up. He didn't care about arrogant men slinging their blades to brag, just as long as it was not in his work area, messing thing up. Vance. Solomon. They could all get along just fine, so'long they stayed out of his damn kitchen.

He turned to look at the one who had called himself Caelyn and gave him something that resembled a smile. It was almost friendly, if his face wasn't so naturally cold and hard. Giving him a jerk of his head, which seemed like an acknowledgment of some kind, Arren continued to cut up the meat on the counter. "Thanks mate," his husky soft whispering voice murmured, "Food'll be done soon if nay more igits come bargin' in and messin' around."

The Viper obviously did not like crowded small places. Although he was calmly slicing and dicing away, he did seem a bit pale, even for someone with red hair. Making a noise of annoyance he slammed him blade into the meat over and over again, before slamming it into the wood and leaving it jutting in the counter. He gripped his hands which seemed to be trembling slightly. Where was his usual cold calmness? Suppressing things was his talent. So why did it escape him now? Dammit all... He leaned on the counter and let out a small rushed breath. Anger was such a hard thing for him to control. His trigger finger was itching, he lust for a fight boiling up inside him. Save it. No need ta' make people wanna slit yer throat when yer sleepin' even more than they do now...

"Bloody hell," he grumbled, grabbing a black pan and starting to sauté the onions for the meat. A stew of pork, vegetables and potatoes with a side of rosemary bread and apple pastries would have to do for something so short notice. With all his fury working into the pace of how he cooked, delicious smells were soon wafting around the kitchen in no time. Once everything was on a cook space of cooking, Arren leaned back and wiped of his hands. Ah, he felt better... He started peeling more apples for tomorrow's breakfast, slender fingers on the shining blade, letting out a sigh of satisfaction.

“You will never be freer than when you are on the sea,” he told her. “Here, we are going wherever our Captain desires, and no one knows us. You may not be wealthy, but you may do what you wish. I intend to.”

Again, Ignia found herself looking at him in surprise. This time less because of what he had said, but more that she had been thinking that not long before she'd made her way over to talk to him. It was nice, to know that she was not the only one who had joined this crew for some kind of freedom. Of course, it also sounded like he'd joined for the money, but somewhere deep inside, they all had.

"Yes," she said, a small smile on her face. "I do intend to do just that. Nëis? I want to.." Here was the embarrassing part, especially when she was going to say it to him. Gazing at her clasped hands, she spoke just loudly enough to be heard over the water. "Thank you. For treating me like a person when you didn't have to." Another smile towards him, and she was walking away. After saying that she was thankful that he'd treated her like an actual human being, well... she didn't really want to stick around.

It was a good thing that not a moment later the Captain was yelling. Ignia had never been on a ship, not really, and had no idea what he was saying, but she could follow orders and learn from others, so that's what she did. While untying one of the ropes, she watched a scene that had her expression softening. First the dogs, and now a sister. It seemed their captain was human after all, even if he wished that he didn't have those weaknesses.

Vance looked over to Caelyn, taking his dagger and cutting another onion in half, stabbing one half with his dagger and raising it towards the man.

"Vance was it? Ah back home we used to have a cow named Vance, it didn't end well for him."

"I'm sure it didn't, though I am not a cow headed for slaughter" he said, not knowing that he might be, in fact, such a thing.

"If you'll excuse me Lance, I do need to find myself a navigator. I'm sure we'll get you in some position where those skills wont go to waste."

"Vance!" he said towards the captain. "Vance, with a V!" he almost shouted. he seemed overly sensitive about it. He quickly walked out of the kitchen, past the bed chamber and back onto the deck of the ship. The onion on his breath was starting to get to him, along with the rocking of the ship. This wouldn't end well. He needed something to focus on. He rushed to the red haired woman to assist her in untying the ropes, giving her a slight bow as he approached her.

Caelyn let out a chuckle, after hearing Vance getting so perturbed at what seemed to be an intentional mispronunciation of his name. To his credit Vance did hand Caelyn some food and he always was grateful for that. "Anything I can be doing to help? I am pretty good at lifting and moving things. And if me leaving is the best thing to help you then just let me know." Caelyn bowed. Caelyn noticed the newly promoted cook's hand shake just slightly, but what followed was more noticeable. "He doesn't like to lose control of his calm." Caelyn noted to himself. "Although if I had 50 people in a small little kitchen trying to take over my nerves may make me shake too." he thought. "Viper was it? Don't let them get to you. When I get too worked up, I just remember to slow my breathing. It really helps, you should try it." he offered with a nod. "Anyways I'll take my leave, if you need anything I'll be finding the captain.
Caelyn set out to find the captain, he had an idea of what he may be able to offer up on the ship. "Um... Captain Deren, I know I didn't make the best first impression and I do apologize. I am not savvy with sailing, but I do have a really good set of eyes. Might I be of any help? Also, my mother taught me about the constellations and some about astrology growing up. I am sure you are educated very well and all but I could help it you need it." Caelyn blushed. "What am I doing? Trying to use my education as a tool? I am just an ignorant slave trying to appear a noble. He's going to see right through it and put me on some menial task like swabbing the deck." Caelyn zoned out and it had to appear like he left the conversation completely to the captain.

Arren's cold green eyes slide over to the more polite man, who offered his services up just in case he ever needed him. Those green eyes became a bit warmer and the ghost of a smile crossed his half visible face. At least this man had enough sense to know how infuriating it was to have someone barge in and so rudely take control of such a small place. Especially when it wasn't theirs to take. Arren's head tilted to the side and down a bit, in a sort of somber recognition of the other man's words.

"Aye," his soft raspy voice murmured, "Thanks."

With everyone out of the small space he felt so much more at ease than usual. Leaning back he continued to peel apples, the soft smell of food swirling around in a kind of comforting way. Arren wasn't a noble any more. He was a cook on a pirate ship. But he commanded his space and would only yield to the Captain. People should ask before taking in the kitchen. They had many men to feed and greedy little lairds who thought they could have whatever they like would not be tolerated. You steal something from the kitchen, you'd pay for it, one way or the other. They had a ration schedule to keep.

Speaking of which, he'd have to look it over and make adjustments so it would fit for the amount of food per person. Bringing up the record book, he skimmed through. Laughable. Hardly even kept up right. Leave it to pirates to keep a bad schedule of rations on the high seas were they could go untitled amount of days without food or water. With a sigh, he started to work the numbers as he prepped for the next day's breakfast. Any hole in the workings, he'd find and fix them one way or another. They'd have to know how much they would need to restock at their next docking, even if that was a bit ways away. He just had to concentrate.... Humming a soft tuneless tune, his hands worked away as his mind followed suit.

The thanks was a bit of a surprise, but it went out of his mind as soon as the captain started yelling orders. If he had felt unstable before, now he was grounded in the task at hand. As soon as he loosened the ropes to the sails he felt entirely in his element--he was no stranger to the sea, no stranger to the functions of ships. He was no fan of heights, but he left that part up to the other crewmen. He couldn’t say that it was in his blood, being that it wasn’t. Farming was in his blood, something set firmly on the land, but he thought, perhaps, sailing was in his heart, or his soul. Or, hell, even both.

He idly noticed that another person came aboard as he was securing ropes, though he didn’t hear anything other than the tail end of her voice over all the clamoring and yelling. Another woman, seemingly close to their captain from the view he very briefly got. Afterwards, the captain went down into the underbelly of the ship, suitcase in hand. Nëis considered following him, to speak with him regarding his position, but decided it would still be better to stay on deck to make sure everything continued going smoothly. He’d never liked not being on the deck of a ship, more than just being around to do his duties. He liked the view, the feeling of the wind and the taste and smell of the salty sea that permeated everything.

He’d get his bed later, and if he was too late for it, he’d sleep on the floor. The thought didn’t bother him much. But he would need to go down sooner rather than later, if only to grab a drink.

Ignia was eyeing the man in front of her suspiciously. His assistance with the ropes had been unnecessary, but she supposed it was also helpful. However, despite that, she recognize him as the one with the dangerous smirk. It didn't help that he was practically flaunting his money with the silly outfit he was wearing. All things considered, she found herself in a position she'd never been in before. Now, she'd seen flaunting nobles, and she'd seen nice guys, but never before had they been one in the same. His motives were questionable, but she did not have the luxury of questioning those above her. There was a twinge inside her as Ignia thought this, something that told her it was wrong that she could not do as she wished, something that said she should be free to say whatever she wanted. It was over quickly.

"Thank you," she said instead, quietly. While Nëis might have looked threatening and distant, he also could not be considered that far above her. According to society's rules that was. This man was another story altogether. He was the kind of man who could buy her ten times over and then use her as he wished. This was something she couldn't ignore. On this ship, she was as free as she'd ever be, but that didn't mean much. Ignia still had to conform to what was expected of her, especially in the presence of someone like this. "I am Ignia. It's a pleasure to meet you. If you ever need assistance, you can always come find me. Thank you very much for helping me with such a task."

Her eyes found the waves once more, and silently, Ignia wished for night to come. She wished that everyone could be asleep, and she could actually do what she wished. When the sun sank, and the moon rose, and everyone was off in the world of dreams... that was when she was truly free.

After he had finished helping Ignia untie the ropes and she thanked him, he gave her a smile and a nod. Judging by her clothing, and her politeness, she was, or used to be, someone's servant. Of who she belonged, he didn't know and he didn't feel it right to ask at the moment.

"I am Ignia. It's a pleasure to meet you. If you ever need assistance, you can always come find me. Thank you very much for helping me with such a task."

He gave her something that he was sure she wasn't accustomed to, he bowed to her not as someone of lower status than he, but as an equal. "Vance Meridian, At your service, M'lady" he said, sounding happy to introduce himself. "Likewise, if you ever need assistance, please don't hesitate to ask." he said not in a sarcastic tone, but as a genuine offer. He looked out to the water, watching the waves and wondering what was in store for the captain and his crew.