Vic groaned as she began to awake from a deep, alcohol fueled slumber. Before opening her eyes, she stretched and grunted in her cot. “Bloody hell,” she muttered as she rolled over to see Darrell, her best mate, face down with a bottle of rum still in his grasp. She laughed as she swung her legs over the edge of the cot and kicked him in the ribs, yelling, “Get up, you lazy beast!” Darrell jolted from the position he was in, almost ready to attack, when he realized it was Vic who woke him up. “Dammit, Vic! Almost startled me to death.” Vic laughed and stretched her arms up one more time before getting up out of bed. “Yeah, if only I were so lucky,” she smirked as she stepped over him and began to ready herself to exit her room. She rolled up her hair into a messy up do, and then tied a make shift bandana around the top of her forehead back to the nape of her neck. She never felt it was necessary for her to wear her captain’s hat unless they expected company or were in a battle. The thing looked ridiculous her opinion anyway.

“Well, come on then, Darrell,” she said as she offered a hand down to help him off the floor. “More gold to be found, eh?” Darrel smiled and nodded as he accepted her hand, grunting as he stood up. Vic took the bottle that he still held in his hands and took a swig, wiping off the access that had formed at her lips with her sleeve. She nodded her head towards to the door to signal that it was time to exit. She sighed and swung the French doors open, taking a deep breath of the salty air and feeling the sun shine down on her face. Most of her crew had already been up, manning the desk and attending to the masts. Vic looked up to the nest which seemed a mile above the deck and smiled as she went to go climb the tall wooden structure it sat on. Once she made it to the top, she took out her brass spyglass and looked in all directions for anything out of the ordinary. Once she was satisfied, she made the climb down and got the attention of the crew.

“Alright, boys,” she said, in a firm tone. “Looks like we have no visitors on the horizon. No land either. We’re good on food for a week, as long as we stick to our rations. We are going to hit an inhabited island most likely within the next two days. We can get some extra hands and plunder what we must.” She said this with a wink as the crew began to hoot and holler. “Alright, alright, heathens,” Vic said, motioning with her hands for them to scatter. She turned to Darrel and spoke quietly, “I’m going down to the galley, do some inventory and check on the cannons.” Darrell nodded and off she went, down the rickety latter to the dark belly of the ship.

Vic was alone, as most of the crew was up on the deck, as she was looking at their rations and ammo. Ever since she made a crew member walk the plank for taking extra portions of food, everyone was honest with their rations. This made their need to stop on land less, and their hunt for more gold a top priority. She was humming quietly to herself as she heard a noise come from behind a barrel. “The hell?” she gasped as she unsheathed her sword and pointed it towards the barrel. “Show yourself. Come out slowly, and I won’t harm you.” Her face was expressionless, and her sword stayed aimed at the barrel with no hint of shakiness.

Today was just not Naeema's day. She woke up with her feet hanging off her bed, which should've warned her of her coming bad luck. But the girl foolishly ignored the sign and prepared for her day. She had a tight schedule to keep to and couldn't risk any oversight. After braiding her hair back, out of her face, the girl set off on foot towards the former household of a Mister Grank. Not a nice name, for not a nice man. He was, however, very very rich. In fact, he was the one who funded this little port towns creation. In his day, he was an extremely powerful man who owned the everything from the lowest saloon to the bank. And did he love his bank. Mr Grank loved his bank and his money so much, he commissioned a tunnel to be built. From his cellar, to the vault it ran.

It was of course now out of use, for Grank had died many years ago. And his house had been turned into a museum, in honor of the honorless man. It was against the rules to even enter the cellar. Plus, the museum was closed on Sundays.
Fortunately, Naeema didn't work regular hours. She reached the museum and carefully picked the sad excuse for a lock. The house wasn't as impressive as it once must've been. It seemed small and damp, the smell of the sea sunk unto the old rugs and wood. The walls were lined with pictures of the old man, with eyes that followed her. The girl frowned and waved to one. "Hey. Hi. You're looking good." She bowed grandly and laughed. Not like he needed the money anymore.

She moved through the old, rickety halls, towards the kitchens. The walks boasted of how he once used a pasta or something, Naeema didn't look to closely. She moved to the big door tucked away in the corner and opened it. Stale air whooshed upwards and she stumbled back, shaking her head. Gross.
Naeema moved down the stairs carefully and looked for a second door. She found it, soon enough, hidden behind a sad little stack of pots and pans. This door opened to a tunnel. Long and straight, with little light. Lighting a torch, the young thief took off, coursing herself. She'd underestimated the distance. She ran as quick as she could, fearing her window would be missed. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your outlook, she didn't. The girl came to the ladder and climbed up quickly. She pulled the hatcher down and yelped as two bags of gold fell down, just missing her head. Jackpot.

She hurried up into the vault, tossing down bags of gold, silver and whatever else she could find. Her heart thrilled at all this, though it dropped when she heard a voice behind her.
"Ahem.." Naeema turned slowly, eyes wide. There stood the banker, a town guard and a little old woman who was coming to view the objects in her late husbands deposit box.
You can't account for death, the thief supposed.

There was a short scuffle, which ended with the brown skinned girl escaping onto the street. By now, every guard had heard if her attempt and was looking for her. Half of them were already on her tail. She moved through the crowded streets with ease, a small grin on her face. It was nerve wracking, being chased so. The girl could always feel the hand of a guard closing in on the back of her neck. An arrow, just missing her ear, made her mischievous smile disappear. The girl ran faster, to the docks. She could lose them at the docks. She hurried onto a random ship and hid.

She his and hid, until she fell asleep. And then, the next day, she awoke with no feeling in her left leg and a loud voice ordering her to show herself. Had she been caught by guards? She looked around frantically for an out. Not seeing one, she sighed and stood, arms held up.

"I'm unarmed. Though, isn't that funny? You have to show you arms, so show you are unarmed." She chucked, turning around slowly. Her eyes widened when she saw, presumably, can Lady pirate. Naeema coughed and backed up, gulping. "I um.. Is this ship to Henle? I'm headed to see my sister. She just had a baby."

Vic laughed at the ramblings of the girl, whom which she presumed to be quite younger than she was. She placed her sword back in its scabbard and placed her hands on her hips, eyeing the creature before her. “This isn’t a vessel for transportation,” she laughed, not sure if she was buying her story. “You’re on the Black Star, captained by yours truly.” Vic bowed in a mocking way. “You may have heard of me. I hear they call me ‘The Succubus’ in these parts.” She offered a hand to the young woman to help her from around the barrel so that she could stand in front of her. “Now, assuming that the story you just told me is complete rubbish, who are you and why are you stowed away on my ship? No one gets to board for free.” She smirked as she finished the last sentence. Vic eyed her up and down, trying to assess if she’d be fit to stay aboard. The girl was young, yes, and did not seem to come from some sort of posh lifestyle. That was good. "How can you make yourself of use?"

The night before was nearly a blur to Vic. They had docked at Isla Lupe early in the morning to get supplies and food, but by nightfall, her and her crew were piss drunk, causing fights and picking up women. Vic and Darrell even kissed, which they immediately pretended to vomit afterwards and swore to never do it again or else they'd both walk the plank. Before the night was over, she had been talking to a fair skinned woman at a local tavern before police became annoyed of their activity at the port. Men on horses with lit torches arrived, announcing that they must vacate or prepare to be forcefully removed. Vic winked at the woman, giving her one of the rings she had stolen and telling her to remember her. They all sloppily boarded the ship as the men followed, surprisingly making it back out to sea without sinking. It made sense that if anyone were to sneak onto the Black Star, it would have been last night. This frustrated Vic; no matter how much fun she had, she knew she couldn't let things like this happen. It was only a matter of time before a drunken night turned into their slaughter from a silent enemy boarding the ship.

Naeema frowned, mildly annoyed this Succubus could read her so well. Yes, that hadn't been her best lie, but she still could've considered it. She moved around so her and the lady pirate were facing each other. Naeema was even more annoyed to note how tall the pirate was. "Why? Well that's a long story. I mean, I guess there's a short version, but that isn't as interesting." The girl played with her long, dark colored braid. She thought a moment, trying to come up with a plan. Gulping, she smiled in her charming way, with one dimple showing.
"I am quite useful, I assure you. I tell jokes, do impressions. I'm a pretty good dancer too." She elbowed Victoria in a playful manner, deciding it best she keep her true trade to herself for now. "I'm a traveling performer! I was with my company when I got the ships mixed up." Naeema did her best to look innocent, keeping her eyes wide and looking the woman in the eye. She was a lovely Lady, with pretty eyes that Naeema admired and envied. She carried herself with a strength the thief found admirable.
"I assure you, fair Succubus, this is a mistaken. I will do whatever work I must to earn my place here, till you dock and I will take my leave."

Vic listened to the girls story with a hint of curiosity displayed on her face. Something about her made Vic not trust her, not yet anyways. One thing she was very proud of was her innate ability to read people; it often helped her greatly when she was deciphering whether someone was a friend or foe. Although the girl had not yet won over the trust of Vic, she was having a hard time telling what her true intentions were. Fascinating, finally someone she couldn’t see through like a window.

Vic nodded and sighed. “Fine, you have passage until we dock, which should be in about two days. I’ll have to introduce you to the crew. They’re, um, a handful to say the least. They love women more than I do, which says a lot,” she chuckled and began searching nearby shelves for a handheld knife. Once she found it, she swiveled back around and held out the wrapped side to the girl. “Keep this on you for protection. Let me know if anyone bothers you.” After she finished, Vic started towards the latter and motioned for the girl to follow her. “By the way,” Vic said gruffly as she climbed, “Call me Captain in front of my crew, Vic if you’re not. Never liked ‘The Succubus.’”

They reached the deck, and all eyes fell on the two women as they poured out from the hole in the floor. Some men began to whistle at the new member of the ship, to which Vic began to yell curses back at them. “Aye, aye, you bloody heathens, shut it.” Once the deck had quieted, Vic began to speak in her low, authoritative tone. “I located a stow away in the galley. I’d love to know how one of you numbskulls didn’t find her somehow last night, but,” she cleared her throat, and continued, “she will be traveling with us until our next stop. She is to be treated just like the rest of our crew here. Like shit.” Vic smiled and laughter erupted from the motley group of men. “Don’t try anything with her. Keep your dick in your pants. Help her if she needs it. She doesn’t look built for manual labor, so I’ll be having her help Sully in the kitchen. Got it?” Vic asked, louder than the rest of her words. A general “Aye” came from the crowed as she nodded and thanked them.

As the men dispersed, Vic turned to the woman. “So, girl, you have a name?”

Relief washed over the girl, though she kept on a goofy smile. This could be good. She could last two days on a pirate ship, could she not? Naeema accepted the knife with a not, placing it on her belt quickly. She hoped she wouldn't need it. At her introduction, the short girl moved close to The Captain, made a bit nervous by the men's searching eyes. She had to clench her fists to resist going through Captains pockets. Her well trimmed nails digging into the skin of her palms.

"I um.." She watched with wide eyes as the men listened, responded to her in a way that showed obvious respect. Naeema was amazed! She was wonderful! Giving a little wave as the men dispersed, the short thief laughed softly. "Yes, yes. I'm Nita." She didn't know what the captain could've possibly heard. It was no point of pride to her, that she was infamous, among thieves at least. Stealing the crown Jewels of Hawthorne, one of the most sword happy kingdoms in the world, was no small feat.

Sure, lying to the person protecting you wasn't ideal. But Naeema didn't want to risk recognition. She moved to face the Captain, a mischievous grin in place. "Has anyone ever told you, you should write a book about your life! I'm sure its wildly exciting! Perhaps I could even play you!" The girl grabbed Victoria's sword and held it up dramatically, swinging it above hr head before striking a pose. "I think I could capture the spirit of the Succubus, don't you?"

Vic was at first surprised at the feeling of her sword being drawn from her waist, but as Nita held it above her head, she grabbed her wrist firmly and used her other hand to retrieve it from her. She quickly put it back in her scabbard, still holding her wrist with a tight grasp. “Well, I don’t know if this is the first pirate vessel you’ve had the pleasure of sailing on,” Vic said in a smoky voice, “but unsheathing a captain’s sword is surely asking to meet your maker.” She let go of her wrist and moved the stray pieces of hair that had fallen out of her bandanna away from her face. “Let me show you around.” There was no room, in Vic's mind, to be playful anymore. Although she was only 27, she felt old. Tired. Hardened. The little magical moments of life only came to her through gold and blood. That, and a beautiful woman she'd never see again. She didn't want to seem cruel, but she also didn't see a point in pretending to be something she wasn't.

Vic showed her the various parts of the ship, including the galley, the hull, the crow’s nest and the bow. She led her to her room, which Vic immediately began straightening up her hand drawn maps and bottles of rum as they entered. “These are my quarters. You’ll usually find Darrell passed out there,” she said as she pointed to a spot on the floor, making herself laugh. “He’s my best mate. The best mate a captain could ask for.” She looked around and rubbed her hands together. “I don’t really trust my men enough to let you sleep down there with them. You can sleep in my bed for now, I’ll make do on the floor.” Vic grabbed at the bandanna on her head and let her brunette hair flow freely past her shoulders, shaking it out with her fingers.

Her room was simple. Half-melted, unlit candles littered the room, with empty bottles of unmarked rum lining the shelves. There was a small window that looked out over the sea, closed by a brass latch. A simple desk held mounds of papers and a quill. A picture of Vic’s mother sat on a shelf, collecting dust. “So,” Vic started, turning back around to Nita, “Now that I’ve introduced you to Sully, feel free to go down there when you’re ready. Hope you’re fine with working in the kitchen. Like I said, no one travels for free.” Vic smiled as she turned back around to her desk, marking off the amount they had traveled that morning so far on a delicately drawn out map. “Feel free to change or clean up. I’m quite a bit taller than you, you’ll probably be swimming in my clothes, but by all means, take a look.” She lifted her hand to point to where her clothes were hanging. She reached for a pipe filled with tobacco and lit it, holding the smoke in her lungs for a moment before exhaling the milky smoke out slowly and watching it dance in the sunlight pouring through the window.

Naeema kept silent during the tour. She kept her smart remarks to herself, listening and looking around with narrowed eyes. Even out of her element and slightly sea sick, the girl could fall back on old habits. Get the lay of the land- well, ship. Size up possible threats. Understand the hierarchy, who's at the top and who's on the bottom. Sure, the setting changed, but people don't. The succubus, Captain Victoria, was at the top. Her mate, Darrel or something, was second and everyone else was below. Men seemed to be ranked by their usefulness. The cook, while weaker physically than the deck hand with a tree trunk neck, was ranked higher than him because he was skilled at not only cooking, but some medicine and sewing. It seemed being a jack of all trades would serve the girl well.

Once they were at the captains very own cabin, Naeema took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dark. It was simple, not at all what she imagined. There was no bed made of gold, or belly dancers ready in a corner to entertain the fierce captain. She was, quite honestly, disappointed. Watching Victoria with careful eyes, the girl pushed her own hair back.
"I'll be fine in these clothes for now, thank you cap." Cap. Naeema found the nickname cute. Grinning her mischievous grin, she leaned against the doorframe. "I should warn you, Cap-attack. I'm horrid at cooking. Not a domestic bone in my body. I might accidentally kill you all." It was hard to tell if she was serious or not.

Turning away, the short thief- traveling performer, waved over her shoulder. Gods, she'd have to remember who she was. Nita the entertainer! As if to prove a point to herself, the girl did a quick backhand spring on the ships deck, moving towards the kitchens.

Nita the entertainer was entertaining. She proved herself charming and quick witted, making friends easily with the men she'd met. She matched their raunchy comments with her own and managed to one up a few. She chopped enough potatoes to drive her mad, but kept up her cheerful attitude. The pirates she'd met didn't really seem all that bad. A bit dirty, sexist and horny, but not terrible guys to be around.

If you paid close attention to her words, yoid find her asking subtly about the captain. The born con artist was looking for some angle. A pirate ship could be a valuable asset, for transporting stolen goods or making get aways. And even if Naeema couldn't find some way to manipulate the good captain, staying on her good side was a good idea.

She worked till dinner, cleaning and assisting the chef, talking his ear off. Dinner was ready to be served and Naeema handed out the good bowls. Sully, the dear, had gone all out to greet their unexpected guest. She felt a bit uncomfortable, getting as many rude glares as she did kind looks. Feeling a bit trapped, the girl looked around for the Captain. Sure, she'd made nice with these men, but pirates were pirates.