The twilight was when Lefacti really began to stir. Day was the time of lazy legality, but night was when the spirits of scum and villainy were at their highest. Under all the imposing, wooden structure, some said Lefacti glowed brighter in the night than the day if you were walking down its streets.
And under that highest structure, a massive, underground cavern bustled despite its invisible ceiling. The ships within were those of Lefacti's elite, not often used beyond second hangout points for their owners. The biggest of them was a fair sized galleon, headpiece manned with bull horns as wide as some of the other ships in the harbor.
Laying across it, rag in hand, fingers straining to reach a far as possible, a boy relented, leaning back. He wore tan slacks and plain sandals over his feet, while his thin body was covered by a slightly baggy, long-sleeved black shirt, his skin pale, his hair a light brown. Rolling over to lay on the headpiece, he called, almost lethargically, "Hazel..."
His cyan hair kept getting in his face, dirtied with the tar he was spackling onto the ship, patching up any small chunks, his face had several spots on it from dirt and the tar, his clothes were tattered and really worn - his Shirt was ripped at the collar, a fresh bandage on his left arm. He wore black slacks and sandals, he hung from the headpiece with a rope, attached to the belt he was wearing. "Yeah Kas?" Hazel called, hanging from the underbelly of the ship.
Kaspard blinked, rolling over, looking down at Hazel, before noting, "Oh...you're actually working."
"Me, working? Dude! I drew on the ship, this puppy's gonna take in water like, well, a puppy in the ocean.." He shouted, "Dark." he mentioned to himself under his breath. The drawing he had made with the tar read BOYAJ - standing for "Blow it out your ass, John"
Kaspard let out a long sigh, rolling back over, eyes looking to the dark ceiling, muttering, "I should have figured, since you hadn't asked to sneak off for a break yet..."
"So much gloom, there. When do you think they're gonna be done with the meeting? I heard Jackobb talking about us heading out." Hazel asked, as he began climbing the rope that tied him to the ship, soon emerging next to Kaspard. "So, we gonna take a break?"
Kaspard suggested, "Just a quick one...if you insist."
"Cool, let's go get something to eat, I'm starving." Hazel said, wiping his face to get rid of the tar, forgetting that he had tar on his hand, getting it all over his cheek and forehead.
Kaspard blinked, wondering, "Are you trying to make it easier to sneak around or are you just stupid?"
Hazel blinked, then looking at his smudged hand. "Oh, yeah..." He mumbled, walking down onto the deck. He wiped the tar off his left hand with his right index finger, and with a sly-smile, he turned around and decided to wipe it off on Kaspard's face. "So we can sneak better, dude!" He shouted, as Kaspard tried to shake him off.
"Augh, stop! Jeez!" Kaspard pouted turning away, trying to get rid of it, but only succeeded in smearing it on his face and clothes. As he moved towards the cabins, he reached for the door, before it opened, a dark skinned hand poking through. Kaspard and Hzel froze as the much taller man poked through, black, spider-like hair poking out from a thick, red headband. A muddy colored coat hung from his slightly lanky body as his dark eyes stared down at the two. "Done already?" he growled, before his eyebrow twitched as he saw their faces. As Kaspard tried to hide his face, Jackobb's hand reached down, grabbing him by the hair and pulling so that he faced Jackobb proper. "This some kind of joke?"
"Hey!" Hazel shouted charging at him, throwing a punch at the first mate of his crew, only for Jackobb to catch him by the throat, pressing him up against the wall behind him, Hazel squirming to break free. "Let him go!" He shouted in between grunting and trying to kick at the larger pirates arm.
"Your the one's mocking me," Jackobb growled. Lifting the two of them up, he slammed them together, before tossing them aside like rats. Spreading out his arms and continuing his walk, he laughed, "Lucky I'm not the Captain: you wouldn't have been able to walk away." As he finished, more men began to file out from below, some of them chortling at Hazel and Kaspard's misfortune. As the two began to recompose themselves, a bigger figure stepped onto the deck.
The heavy thud of his leather boots with their ironed plating was heard over the entire ship, as the gigantic man - ten feet tall, looked over at the boys, the septum ring in his gruff face reflecting off of the light on the wall, his short black hair was dirtied, as it usually was. "Fuckin' kids pissing of Jackobb again." His voice boomed as he turned around, not paying them much mind. "We are heading out. Man your stations. Tell the cabin boys to go clean the kitchen."
"Cabin boys, go clean the kitchen," laughed a few of the crew members. Not having room to argue, Hazel and Kaspard headed through the door and under the deck. Hazel was massaging his throat. "Where you think we heading? Another raid so soon?" Hazel asked Kaspard, making his way into the kitchen - opening the fridge, getting out the lemonade and pouring a glass he slid to Kaspard, before pouring another for himself.
Eyes watching the glass, Kaspard's hand didn't move. Clenching his fist, he muttered, head downturned, "We need to clean..." Hazel scoffed. "This place will never clean. They're savages, Kaspard. One day this boat'll go down in flames, and it can't come fast enough." Hazel said, swigging his glass, eyeing Kaspard's glass. "You want that, or not?"
Shaking his head lightly, Kaspard turned towards the sink, before going to wash himself. Rinsing his face, trying to get that tar off, he stopped for a second, before wondering to himself, "...What kind of pirates are we?"
---
"Stay out of trouble, stay out of trouble..." Hamel quoted his Captain's words to himself.
Passing by tavern after run down shop after corner of seedy characters, he kept muttering to himself.
Blocking his path, a few large guys brandishing weapons stood in his way. "Who're you with, runt?"
Hamel whined, "I just got here...I don't want to get involved in anything within...an hour of us first getting here: that's way too contrived!"
They blinked looking at each other, before one of them snapped, "You freelance? Or do you have territory?"
Hamel stayed quiet, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Stay out of trouble...maybe."
Narrowing his eyes, one of them en lowered his hammer, pulling it back before trusting it at Hamel. He raised an eyebrow as it came to a dead stop in front of him, air being pushed aside slightly. Hamel stared blankly, and the man clicked his tongue, before pulling back ,the two men stomping off.
Hamel blinked, "What was that all about?" Looking around, no one even seemed to mind. "This place seemed more fun before..." he lamented.
---
Though it was already nightfall, it seemed to get darker to Hamel as he walked, the mazey town starting to get to him. Structures built upon structures support structures. It was an architectural nightmare. Yet while it seemed to go up forever, there were occasional gaps in the woodwork, but in one, he swore he could see a distant pinprick of light. Grabbing a passerby, he asked, "What's that?"
The potbellied cook shook his head. "You don't wanna go down there kid. Not a fun place."
Hamel chortled, "I have a different idea of fun."
As the cook's brow furrowed, a few gangly looking scrags laughed, "Just jump right down! A mug like you would be pretty popular in The Sunk."
Mind processing, Hamel laughed, "I always liked being popular." Kicking off, he jumped backwards into the blackness, cries of shock following him. Dank wind rushed by him before he crashed into something wooden a few stories below, smashing through. Regretting everything, he tumbled through splinter and slime as he tumbled into The Sunk: the murky pit, once a cavern, now collapsed into the ocean, the base damp with trapped brine...
