And that, as they say, is that. X’gihl kept quiet as part of the toned-down mood that had swept over the group of curious individuals with whom he’d shared the Quicksand with not more than an hour ago. Curious, aye, that would be a good word for each of them. X’gihl had taken a seat just at the back of the carriage, his blind side facing the rear, where he could look over the new company with his one good eye.
If they weren’t a motley bunch, he wondered what would meet the requirements to be one. Eight people in total, that he could see. Each face seemed so foreign and so strange to him. There was a kid among the group, for instance, a Gridanian sort. And, of course, people know what one would mean by “Gridanian”, wouldn’t they? The sort of children people met in the Black Shroud, in the city, in highly-respectable positions of one thing or another, and who claimed to be “sensitive” or “open” or some other term used to imply they were in communication with those nebulous “Elementals”. The same Elementals what had turned away refugees fleeing from home and looking for another. Gods knew how they worked or what effect they had on the behorned devils that worked for them.
The boy wasn’t the only curiosity in the carriage, however. Surely, there wasn’t just a single oddity. In this group, X’gihl felt he was in colorful company.
“Colorful”, there’s another good word for it. The privateer looked over one of the Lalafellin folks in the carriage. The fellow seemed “blue” in a way that didn’t exactly refer to his hair color. There was a depth about the guy, a “vibe” to him, an aura one might call it, if X’gihl could only see it. Sharing a space with the small person, the privateer felt reminded of the sea in a way that made him slightly homesick for Limsa Lominsa, if homesick was what a displaced Miqo’te from Gyr Abania could call it.
Next X’gihl took note of one of the other Miqo’tes. Adorned in red, loose, flowing clothing, he practically screamed an impression at the privateer. A performer of some sort, surely.
Fungi, thought X’gihl with a smirk. Parasitic in nature, fed off others, all too happy and ready to spread its spores, and if you only heard it spoken you might think it’s a “fun guy”. But X’gihl could use a little fun, and one way to do that was to bait someone into a game. The performer seemed like an excellent potential participant.
Now, how to do that without being a complete and utterly noisy nuisance to the audience we’ve got here, my new friend?J’torha, the fungus in question, had also taken a seat near the rear of the carriage, though he made his choice mostly to be as far away as possible from the stench of the chocobos up front. Well, that and the Ul’dahn-looking Lalafell was giving that odd child some pretty strange looks, and J’torha had no mind to be a part of
any of that.
Speaking of strange looks, though, J’torha couldn’t help but feel a pair of eyes on him as he sat back on the carriage bench, tying a string of jingling coins around his tail. Looking up, though, it turned out it was only
one eye staring at him, accompanied by a smirk on the face of that Lominsan Seeker from the Quicksand. It was the look of someone looking for a good time, though he was just a touch surprised to see it outside of a performance or an otherwise more…
social engagement.
“See something you like?” he questioned with a raised brow, though his own smirk betrayed his amusement.
“‘Cause I fear you’ll have to pay a little extra.”The pair on this guy, X'gihl chuckled quietly. But if the look on the younger man's face was an indication, the privateer may have successfully found someone receptive to a bad influence. Oh the wonders today was going to bring. Dare he already count one of these unusual persons among his short list of fellow friends and conspirators in the everlasting fight against dull silence? No, no. Caution, first. Feel it out. He could be playing the fool moreso than X'gihl himself.
"Pay you? Mate, I'm scared you'll string me up with the rest of yer pyrite riches!" He whispered excitedly, the smirk extending into a somewhat warmer smile. The privateer offered a hand toward the other Miqo'te.
"X'gihl Tia, Gill to me friends. Ya look about as bored to tears as I am, if significantly closer to the edge. Now, iffen ya don't mind, stop playing with yerself and help me pass the time, eh?"A little push, some give and some take. Good opening, in his own opinion. But X'gihl had to admit that this performer had done half the necessary work of establishing communication. Now, to gauge and see what he had to say in return.
Does the fun begin? Or shall I nudge another?J’torha chuckled at the pyrite comment, securing the makeshift jingler to his tail and shaking Gill’s hand. “J’torha Tia, fancy that. Don’t see many of our lot eh?” In fact, Gill was probably the first other
tia J’torha had properly met. He couldn’t recall any others, but of course, it wasn’t usually the faces of
men that J’torha committed to memory.
In any case, the boredom was certainly mutual. J’torha was quite sure there was nothing as dull and mind-numbing as the inside of a carriage.
“I can’t very well refuse that offer,” he replied,
“I’m liable to go stir crazy myself. These things might be faster than walking, but at least on foot there’s something to see.”He leaned back on the bench, twining his fingers behind his head and raising his eyebrow at Gill.
“But how exactly does one pass the time in the back of a wooden box?” Leaning back in his seat, the privateer drew a stoppered bottle from one of his pockets; a last-minute purchase to place on Lyveva’s tab as they’d hurried from the Quicksand earlier. Was nice to have this before delving into the hip flask. He raised the bottle in J’torha’s direction with a coy grin.
“Pleasure to be making your acquaintance, my fellow Tia. Fer payment, I can offer naught but a break in the doldrums, a shared drink, and a proper laugh from belly to breath. All ye’d have to do is help us to entertain ourselves. Me, I’m privy to wordplay and song-singin’.” X’gihl drew the bottle back to his person, cupping it in both hands protectively as he eyed J’torha curiously.
“Wouldn’t happen to be much good in that sense, would ya? A song-bird I doubt you be, but a song between us maybe? A line or two from one, followed by the same from the other.” An odd way to propose his idea, but X’gihl had his eccentricities. He’d found that wording things unusually helped to get attention and simultaneously put people off their guard. How better to play the man he was? A fool trying to fill the gaps of activity with more activity, lest his mind wander to deeper depths. Here, however, he had a hunch that J’torha Tia might make for good sport. Perhaps he was a good mate that took the bait and would share the fate of a man what did hate this trip’s slow gait as they wait-
Oh dear, not that again; it seems the drink from earlier was beginning to wear off. Leaving the bottle stoppered and untouched, X’gihl grabbed his hip flask and took a short swig of it before clicking the lid shut again and replacing it at his belt.
Better. It wouldn’t have been polite to open the bottle and take the first swig after he’d just offered it to another, even if he’d had need of it for that moment.
The privateer leaned forward again and held the bottle back out to the performer.
“What say, Tora?”’A song bird I doubt you be’ he said. J’torha grinned; he’d only spent, what, nine-tenths of his travels learning every song and dance he could get his tongue and feet around? It could very well be that he’d surprise this Lominsan
tia, and J’torha was never one to pass up the opportunity to impress.
He looked between the bottle and the sailor, and held out his hand, shaking his head with a friendly grin.
“I’m not one to drink on the road; I find there’s more fun to be had then with your wits still about you,” he laughed.
“Besides, it’s no good to be singing talking backwards is it?” He leaned forward on his knees, tapping his chin for a moment as he searched his mind for an appropriate song.
“I think I have one you ought to know instead,” he commented thoughtfully, his trademark grin splitting his face once more as he sat back up straight.
“Or, at least, you sound like you’ve been around the Lominsan pubs and docks a time or two.” He took a look over the rest of the occupants in the carriage - quiet, courteous, peaceful, and aside from a single laugh from a pink-haired Lalafell, entirely boring according to him - before he started tapping his heel against the floor of the carriage, a string of decorative coins (identical to the one he had tied around his tail moments earlier) jingling the beat of some as-of-yet-unknown rhythm like a tambourine.
The sudden noise drew an odd look or two, but J’torha responded only with a wink and a grin; no matter the source, he always loved the attention. He turned his mischievous gaze expectantly back to Gill as he started clapping the beat as well, and finally started his song, his voice undeniably betraying tone and talent despite the roughness typical of a lively Lominsan tune.
“Come get yer duds in order ‘cause we’re bound across the water;
Heave away, me jollies, heave away!
Come get yer duds in order ‘cause we’re bound to leave tomorrow
Heave away, me jolly boys, we’re all bound away!X'gihl nearly looked astonished at the man's refusal. But what came after had purpose, and he found himself thrilled by it. J'torha appeared to come alive, at least in the privateer's eye, as though something he'd said had lit the wick to a fine firework preparing to go off in the carriage at that moment. Thrilling, yes, that was the appropriate word. A churning feeling in the breast, yet not brought by uncertainty. X'gihl leaned back in the seat, stowing the bottle away for later as his attention changed to the tap of J'torha's heel and the jingling of coins.
It wasn't apparent what the rhythm belonged to, not yet. A clap and a voice came next, and a smile on the privateer's lips followed them.
I've misjudged you very clearly. Didn't peg your experience at all, but it seems you've pegged mine. Dear me, I've missed that. X'gihl gave the other Miqo'te a genuine smile as he crossed his arms in his slouched position and joined in happily, head tilting a little with the music the performer provided.
"Sometimes we're bound for Sharlayan, sometimes for Rothlyt Sound;
Heave away, me jollies, heave away!
But now we're bound for Limsa-town where all the girls are dancin';
Heave away, me jolly boys, we're all bound away!"One thing you couldn't find out in Little Ala Mhigo, or the Coffin and Coffer, or perhaps not even in Ul'dah, was a good song like that. And they were just beginning! It felt like a breath from home. Of fresh air coming off the sea and docking at the harbor to enjoy land for a short while before you were back out there.
Now, if there was anything better than a good lively tune, it was fellow voices to sing it with. J’torha beamed when the sailor across the aisle joined in his song, any protests or glares from the other passengers long forgotten. How hadn’t he thought of this before X’gihl suggested it? Of
course there was no better pastime than singing at the top of one’s lungs! There voices might not be perfectly in tune (though J’torha had a mind to pin that on X’gihl) but that was the beauty of drinking songs, they were designed to be sung by a tavern full of drunkards with nothing but a shouting voice and time.
“Farewell to all the pretty ladies, waving from the dock;
Heave away, me jollies, heave away!
And if we do return to you, we’ll make yer cradles rock!
Heave away, me jolly boys, we’re all bound away!”As they sang, J’torha gave the woman sitting next to him a friendly nudge of the shoulder and a wink to the other ladies on board; more second-nature to him than anything by now. The verse was meant to be responded to with another by the women in the crowd; hopefully at least one of them would know the words.
