(( Oh, I thought you knocked down Vintage's character. Oops.))

ooc no worries i only hurt npcs at whim PC with discussion before action

((there did seem to be some confusion as to whom you were jabbing all around, ha. I'll post after a little more happens, else I won't have much to say.))

(( thats true but was only half intended, to that ill apologize while i do have a note book of scribbles for this one im trying to let it grow and evolve from a baseline and see where others help him go.. sorry for confussion))

Matthew raised an eyebrow when the mage-assassin pretty much killed the man in front of him, but he's seen more gruesome things before. He watched the man walk out of the bar, and shook his head. "Some people have no manners." He said under his breath. When the captain gestured for him to present himself, he took great care to step over the half-dead body of 'Marcus'. "I assume you're the captain of the ship that just lost about a seventh of his crew when you docked? Anyways, would you care to put down the name 'Matthew Lief'?"

For having a mini interview the line seemed to be going fairly quickly. Jefferson ‘Fer’ Mead stood quietly stepping up as needed. The 5’8 man stood glancing around the room. He had a strong jaw stippled with blond stubble, with matching blond hair atop his head, kept short on the sides, long and windswept on the top. For a 25 year old man his skin was well weathered and tanned making his bright blue eyes pop. His hands rough, showing stories of his hard work ethic. Fer was a man of simple dress, nothing ever to fancy. He felt the fancier the dress the easier it was to lose in a bet or a game. There were a few roughly drawn, scarred black tattoos scrolling up his right arm. It is never certain if a captain will like you, no matter the qualifications. Fer ran through the short but interesting list he had. Starting from a young age, he had to learn to fend for himself, after both parents died, crafting the perfect sly thief techniques. Pickpocketing was a specialty, which could be of importance any time they docked. You could say he was starting to become a master of a different kind of magic, the slight of hand, most anything he touched: it disappeared.

Jacquilne ‘Jack’ Wright stat at a table close to the, rather attractive, Captain, keeping a careful ear listening to every conversation. The small woman, no more than 24 standing 5’3 in height was all but curious of everything around her. Adventure is what she’d live for, being a bit of a distraction is how she got it. Jack used her girlish looks to her advantage, though she rarely acted such a lady. Her blonde hair had turned into long dreads over years of just simply not caring, they were much easer to take care of really. Keeping them manageable behind a bandana stretching to mid-forehead, landing right above her bright green eyes. To play up the distraction, she usually wore the deep corsets, and bustle skirts, short in the front longer in the back, with tall black boots. A dagger strapped to a guarder on her right thigh. Handling the dagger was an even more useful talent. Jack was quick with it, and had extremely good target aim. It’s what she did when she was bored, sit in a chair, stand, just have a bit of target practice, how else are you going to get better? Glancing over her shoulder in the captain’s direction she bit her reddened lip, smirking some.

"Surgeon it is. I'll try to duck any spears then." She remarked before Avery shook her head, "Water magic can be rather dangerous, probably just as bad as fire." she added quietly before walking away to give the next person in line a chance. She thought of the times she'd washed sailors overboard and sent them crashing into the hard earth or ocean below. For that matter she'd also saved ships by providing a wave to guide them down when the mages could not handle it.

A commotion behind her caused her to watch as a man shoved his way to the front, cause a man to keel over and walk away. Sighing she elbowed her way to the body, ignoring the people around it and inspected him for the mentioned needles. "He has none on him that I can find." she announced, but it was more to herself, like a medical record. She heaved the man over her shoulders offering a threatening "Move." to anybody who didn't move fast enough. She made her way to the bar where the bar tender showed her a good place to place the poor dead man.

Despite the possibility of this man being an assassin her blood simmered, this was no way to treat anybody. All that needed to be done was potentially knock him unconcious. She hoped the man who did this wouldn't show up at the docks but she had a feeling he would. "Let's hope this poor sot's killer has better manners on board the ship." she grumbled to herself as the tall woman let herself back into the bar to get another cider.

"I don't believe it," Blackfire muttered to herself, settling away from all the commotion. "Apparently sailing is a lot more popular than I thought... Damn it." With a mug of cider in her hands, she watched everything happen. The people stepping up to speak their minds, the one rude bloke who nonchalantly killed a man... Well, maybe he was a little cool. Killing someone nonchalantly was always an admirable trait, in her book.

She shifted around in her seat a little as she watched. It was mildly interesting, but her hands were in pain and she just knew she didn't have too long. Damn body doing things that weren't welcome. Her eyes shifted to the man with the horns; was he like her? Did he have a secret that he just didn't care to hide? Or was it possibly something else? She idly tried to scratch her hands as she considered him. Maybe he was involved with dark arts somehow... maybe he knew how to help. But, that was for another day, when they had already set sail. Mingling with potential crew members wasn't her idea of fun if it was possible they wouldn't even be on the ship.

Rous scribbled down his name, then proceeded to question him, as he had done everyone else. He rolled up the letters, which guaranteed him pretty much anything from these particular merchsnts (including jobs) for free. How the mage got these he knew not, but he was sure it was of angry means. It also bothered him slightly what the man had said about the guy he just murdered. Rous had enemies, sure, but the man thouht he couldn't handle himself. He smirked at the thought.

[I]"Mr. Lief, you want to sail with me and my crew. What will I be giving you money for? What can you do for me? And if you don't mind me asking, what is with the horns, sir?" [/I] He knew the man would probably tell him, better to not have secrets with the guy who's hiring you, right? And if that blonde in the corner kept casting glances his way, he just might have a place to stay that evening. He smirked even more.

Tressa kept her eyes pressed closed in thought. She could not think of anything else to add to her list of talents. She was a hard worker, she could cook and clean, she was frugal, she could mix drinks, and she wasn't completely defenseless with a knife. That was it. It would have to-

Eyes flashing open as she heard an angry "Move!", Tressa finally let herself pay attention to the commotion. She'd heard thumping, the angry yell about cutting in line, but for all she cared someone cutting in line meant she had a little more time to think. But now there was a woman hauling off a...was that a corpse? Tressa's eyes bulged slightly as she side-stepped out of the way, watching the woman pass. Did...one of the potential crew members do that? Had to be. Had to be that line-cutting business she'd been ignoring. A cold sweat broke out on her skin as her hands grasped and wrung the hem of her skirts.

So maybe...maybe this was a super terrible idea. Was that corpse who had cut in line? Was someone killed over something like that? If only she'd been paying attention. She was gnawing her lip to shreds as she teetered back and forth, trying to decide if she could discreetly get out of line, and just go slink back to her home. The line was short enough now that she doubted it was possible. But if she couldn't be discreet, what did it matter? No one was going to randomly stab her for chickening out, were they?

Hm. She was chickening out, wasn't she? What did that say about her? Clearly she wasn't cut out for only her fondest dreams. Her eyes teared up slightly at her distress and she cursed herself for being so pathetic. Hopefully the captain couldn't see her - she turned to make sure he wouldn't - and pulled a hanky out to hastily wipe her face, trying not to look like she was wiping away tears. She was doing this, crazy random murders or no. The danger wasn't worse than spending the rest of her days tending stupid bar. She wished she had a mirror, she was probably smudging her make-up. Especially with the hasty way she wiped at her face. Oh, yes, there was black all over her hanky now. Damn it. Could she just say sudden allergy if anyone asked? Ugh. Wiping with her fingers at her eyes, she tried to at least get rid of any ungodly smears.

Matthew took less then a moment to think about his questions he was asked by the captain, "Well, you see, sir, is that I'm the best shot in town, and probably this whole damn island. Give me a gun or cannon, and next thing you point me at is dead." He hesitated before answering the captain's last question, though he noticed how the captain's eyes drifted towards a blonde girl Matthew could see in the corner of his eye. Matthew tapped his slightly glossy black horns. "You see, sir, my mother used to be a user of the dark arts, before and after I was born. You can see what happened to me."

The commotion seemed common for those who thought they were ‘privileged’, wether they were or not they were all the same to Fer. His eyes rolled a bit at the fellows mocking of the other, he really hoped that if the sir made the crew, the Captain would put him in his place, teach him one thing or another, just anything to make a point. That pouch did look pretty good though, he sighed a bit having missed a chance to earn a little prize with his sticky fingers. The turning of the girl in front of him caught his attention. A small, charming smiled danced its way across his lips. He glanced down at her, the smile still on his face. “No need to be ashamed” Fer smiled softly. He gently placed a finger under her chin to lift it towards him, to help her with the smudges.

Jack grinned more seeing that she had caught the captains eye. Slowly she stood up, letting her skirt fall back into place around her. Turning around to give him a better look as she carefully avoided the drunks, the hands, the dead guy…. on her way to the bar leaning on it. She ordered the captain a drink to be delivered to his table, and another for herself taking hers back watching his be taken by a barmaid. Jack sat back down taking a drink glancing over just in time to see the stein be set down next to him. “Aye Captain, pint for your liking” the barmaid smiled.

nnHe nodded "On the sins of our fathers...'' He said, smillng slightly "Best, until I come around. Good, you will be a welcome addition to the crew, maybe you can teach some of these useless sods how to shoot. Be at the docks in three days time." He said, and nodded once more as he stepped to the side. At that moment, a pint of rather stout beer was set at his hand. That girl was working hard to get his attention. He grinned slightly. Next in line was the nekomiimi, followed by the barwench looking woman, and finally a man, who could have very well been his cousin in looks.nnHe motioned to the nekomimi, curious as to why she wanted on board.nn

Having reached the front of the line, Nikki grinned at the man. "Captain Rous?" she asked, her voice bright, though she pronounced his name "roos" since she didn't know any better. "Nikkolaira Wyatt, at your service. Though I generally go by Nikki~" Her expression turned cheeky. "I'm a decent fighter, but a better sneak. I've got quick fingers~" She held up a familiar pouch of coin as proof of her skill, but immediately set it back on the table. "I'm an expert at picking locks of all sorts. My night vision is tops, as is my balance. Cats always land on their feet, right~? I'd be great for any jobs with the rigging -- I can climb well, and I tie a good knot. I'm a strong swimmer, and I don't get seasick. I've been looking for a change of pace, and I think this might be just the thing."

[I]"It's Row-us"[/I] He said with a smile, which, along with the color in his face, disappeared quickly when the pouch appeared on the table. He was good at noticing pick-pockets and thieves, but she had managed to take not the bag of money the mage gave him, but his own personal wallet. He snatched it off the table with indignence, before scribbling her name down on the parchment. [I]"So, you don't mind climbing the rigging, eh? Excellent. Most people don't like, if not fear climbing that high. Maybe your willingness to do so will rub off on others. Be at the docks in 3 days time!"[/I] He said, nodding as she walked away. He ushered one of the last people forward, the barmaid.

[I] "Have....Have you been crying?"[/I] He asked, slight concern in his voice.

"Hey, you with the horns," Blackfire called through the din, although she wasn't convinced he could hear her. So, she fixed him with a stare, hoping he'd feel it. Granted, stares weren't always a sign of 'Come over here' but if he at least looked her way she could gesture for him. For a brief moment, she glanced toward that kitty who was at the front, listening to her upbeat speech. Hm.

"Tch. Captain Rous..." she muttered almost like she knew him, then blinked, and looked back at Mr. Horns. Why had she said that so sarcastically...? It's not like she knew the guy. Sure, she didn't often take orders from "higher ups" but she never had been one to make fun of captains, especially not pirate captains. They could be a cruel bunch. But still... That wouldn't be good if she couldn't keep herself from saying it sarcastically. It'd probably just get her kicked off the ship and she did not need to be ejected from her next potential home.

Tressa couldn't help but blush. She was used to unfamiliar men touching her suddenly, so it wasn't that; now she really had been noticed and it was all so embarrassing. She might have slapped his hand away, jerked from him, snapped something about leaving her alone, but she didn't want to make a scene and attract more attention. Besides that, unlike the typical scenario of some guy grabbing her, the one to which she was used, he did seem to want to be helpful.

"Um, thanks," she murmured, letting him take care of her make-up and using the pause to compose herself properly. She pulled quickly away from Fer as it became her turn to talk to the captain.

"I..was just alarmed at the sudden murder," she said, "That sort of thing doesn't...normally happen around port, and at least not in my bar. And it's...it's all smokey here because of the pyromancers, it was bothering my eyes and...anyway that's not important!"

She hadn't meant to, but Tressa lapsed into "I desperately need tips so I need to draw you in" mode. Wanting something from someone - almost always tips - meant the motions were more subconscious, second nature, at this point, and it didn't help that Rous was male. She slapped her hands down on the table and leaned forward, arms assisting her corset in making up for the lack of her breast's size (compared to most bar wenches). Her smile grew slightly as she spoke. "The important thing is I'd like to join your crew." She might have been uncertain and nervous but she was all business now. Maybe it was just because of their orientation - her standing, Rous sitting, as Tressa was used to. She spoke quickly to avoid interruption, but not so quickly as to be hard to understand. "I'll be up front, I have no experience with sailing, no magic, and little fighting. I'm not completely defenseless, but just that. But I've always wanted to go sailing, I've wanted nothing else, and I'm a hard worker. You can ask my current employer for proof of that! And I'm a great cook, I know a thing about mixology, and if you get to trust me, I'm familiar with buying food in bulk. I know where to find good prices, I know how to haggle, and I know how to barter. You have a big ship, it has a lot of area to be cleaned, you have a huge crew and they need to be fed - I may not be a typical asset but I think I'd be an asset."

Rous let her words float around in his head. She had the high ground, it was her turf to be standing, it made her comfortable. But the earlier tears still had him concered. If he wanted to get total honesty, see her heart for what it was, he had to get on her level.

He stood up, and also put his hands on the table, and leaned in close. Now, with pyromamcers, you can tell how skilled in their art, how in-tune with the Father flame (story and explination for another time) They were by the physical glow in their eyes. Every pyromancer in the bar, as much as they were showing off, had little to no glow at all, meaning their skills just scratched the surface. But everyone knew that those who showed off more likely than not didn't actually know what they were doing.

But Rous? His eyes shown like emeralds held in front of a candle, although a smile was present on his face as he leaned close to hers, the fierce fire in his eyes made his gaze ever harsh.

[I]"If you know how to barter and cook, we shall have you, for the gods know I can't haggle to save my life. Are you willing to learn how to sail? When it's all hands on deck, everyone helps. Whether it's battling a storm, or fighting off boarders. Does death make you queasy? Do you have the heart, the spirit to actually set on this adventure?" [/I] He asked, his burning eyes searching hers for any indication of doubt in her next response

It wasn't his rising that made her pull back. Customers had stood up suddenly at her before. No, it was those eyes. Tressa didn't know much about pyromancy, but they were intense and intimidating and powerful all the same. She pulled back slightly, hands leaving the table, breasts no longer squished slightly between her arms, but she stood her ground.

"I want this more than I have ever wanted anything ever before," she said, "I'll work as hard as I have to to go, I would love to learn to sail. I...death is alarming to me. It's scary. I don't think I could kill someone on purpose. But it doesn't make me queasy. Won't there be more to this adventure than death?"

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly [I]"Madam, we are priviteers. Sure, there will be much exploring to be had, lots of different places to see. But what we do is protection work, sailing with merchants to ward off pirates. Most of the time, the size of my ship scares away the smaller ships. But, in some parts of the water and sky, you don't come across just one ship."[/i]He said, sitting back down and downing the rest of his pint. [I]" The pirates we encounter where we spend most of our time sail in groups, under one flag. We come across pirate fleets, some with ships close to the size of mine. And that's something to fear. 60 gun ships can do quite a bit of damage to my ship, even if it is one of the biggest ships around."[/i]

For shock and awe purposes, he kept the size of his ship secret for now. It always made him happy to see the jaws of newcomers and other inquisitive folks drop when his ship came into their view, for it was a formidable, intimidating thing.