((Merry Christmas to you as well , and everyone else! Boring? I mean, there's not a lot of action, but it's hardly /boring/. However, curse you for making me solidify a complete backstory before I'm ready!))

The runes of the door were fascinating, and Nikki would have loved more time to examine them, to figure out how they worked -- and if she could open them without help. When food was mentioned, however, she dashed off to snag some, returning before too long to grab herself a seat. The candles were intriguing, and she wondered what made them take those strange colors. She met the Captain's gaze without reservation, eyes dancing in the firelight. When no one immediately spoke up following his request, she gave a little shrug before speaking.

"There's not much to tell for me, really. I grew up with just my dad, in a poorer section of Fairhaven." The town she named was a decent size, but not a major city, and located on a river. "School was dull, and I avoided it as much as I could. Things being the way they were, I learned how to take things. Fell in with a rather rough crowd -- you know, the kind of kids people warn you about~" She was unrepentant, smiling at the memory. "I knew not to get into anything major, but they were a lot of fun. Dad didn't like it, but there wasn't much he could do about it short of locking me in my room, and even that didn't really work. He certainly tried his best. He kept pressing me to take an interest in the town guard, or in some respectable trade. Nothing kept my interest, though. I wanted adventures~ So I'd learn a little bit of this, a little bit of that, and when I was old enough to head out on my own, I did." She leaned back, smiling. "That was what, five years ago now? I've been travelling ever since, doing odd jobs, some mercenary work and a bit of thieving."

Blackfire burst into a fit of laughter, taking a few moments to rein herself back in and then pushed a chair closer to the woodless fire before leaning her hip against it. "Sorry," she said, clearing her throat. "My background is rather... hrm, how should I put it? Not uninteresting; it's quite a tale. Tedious, perhaps, to tell it. And not to be a drag, but really it would be best for you to hear it alone. You'll understand better." Her eyes flashed and she glanced around. "Not that any of you are stupid, of course. Some things I just prefer to keep private. Or rather, as private as I can. Well, I suppose a little background won't hurt. Let me see..."

"I grew up in a tiny little town once called Restharven. It was a coastal town that wasn't controlled by... Wait, are weather mages still around? I don't remember. Anyway, we were at the mercy of the elements unlike most of the rest of the country, the last town to still have that, but it was fun. Our boats got knocked over a few times during hurricanes, I nearly drowned at least five times, my mom did drown, and when that happened my dad packed me and my little brother up and moved us inland so that he didn't have to worry about losing either of us. I wasn't happy so I decided to go off and live by myself. Returned there a few years later when he was sick and so I watched him die and then I buried him and went off again and that's that."

The blond smiled a bit wryly at her choppy tail. Sure it had all happened, and within a relatively normal time frame, too. But Restharven and weather mages were no longer in existence, and in fact it was believed to have been a made up story anyway (the weather mages anyway) so it was a little questionable about whether or not she'd told a truthful story. She glanced at the captain. It would be up to him to decide to call her story into question; she didn't have to explain herself to anyone but him.

Avery sighed and left the office and followed some of the others who had been summoned to the kitchen and back to the office. Her stomach was too annoying not to listen to. She listened to the others stories patiently, wondering why some of them preferred to keep their pasts hidden. If they were to be in lead positions trust was a must. Shrugging she started into her story. "About five or six years ago I started watching my father work. He was a doctor, and I was more interested in his work than what my mother did which were the 'lady things'. " She popped a bite of roll in her mouth. Returning from a visit to one of his patients my father was shot by a hunter. My father died from infection. My mother tried to teach me womanaly tasks but I ran away and worked at whatever jobs I could find as a doctor. Whoever accepted me I'd help. When I needed to I worked I did tricks. I can control small balls of light and water." Leaning back against a wall she nibbled on her food when she finished

At the mention of being able to bring food, Matthew sprinted towards the cafeteria and was overjoyed to see that his food was still there, untouched by man or woman. He picked up his plate and carried it to the captain's chambers. He listened intently to his fellow crew mate's stories while he ate. When no others spoke a smirk grew across his face. "I suppose it's my turn then?" he said, eyebrow raised.

"Once upon a time," He started then hesitated, "Yeah, I'm not gonna start the story like that." He said, scratching around the base of his right horn. "My mother gave birth to me, my horns not even showing yet." he tapped his right horn, "Anywho, my father was joyed to have a beautiful young son. My father was the captain of a ship just about a third of the size of this one. When I came to the age of just three, my father decided to start teaching me how to use a pistol. As I grew older he trained me in even more firearms, from rifles to flintlock blunderbusses." He twirled his pistol on his finger, reminiscing about the days with his father. "At the age of seven he took me on a 'fishing expedition'." Matthew set his pistol back in his holster and made air quotes with his fingers at the mention of the fishing expedition. "On those expeditions I shot the cannons at enemy ships, thinking it was a game, while mother was home doing black magic, though none of us knew." He shrugged and continued, "Even with me so young, none of the enemy ships never even got close enough to board." He took a piece of a roll and stuffed it into his mouth, quickly finishing it. "One day, my father went alone supposedly on a very important expedition, one that would make us very rich apparently. He never came back." Matthew sighed, "Mother became too consumed with grief to work, and she eventually fell ill and died. With that, I began my new life as an orphan."

"As an orphan I was constantly chased by thugs and thieves, trying to take what little I owned. One day I decided to 'borrow' two twin designer pistols from a shop keeper while he was away." Matthew patted his left holster, carrying one of said pistols, "I assume some of you have heard of the 'haunted warehouse of Fyreside'? Well, the supposed ghost there was actually me, and I took refuge there, spreading the rumor myself to ward off any unwanted attention. There I stayed and kept all of my 'collected' goods, sustaining myself for the future. Years passed, I kept training with different guns, and I spotted a giant ship on the docks, the captain heading to a nearby tavern. You can tell what happened after that." He finished, along with his now empty plate of food.

Nikki's ears perked up at the mention of the Fyreside ghost. "Oooh~" She sounded amused. "I remember those stories! So that was you, eh? I /thought/ I saw someone in there when I went to check it out~" She giggled. "But I must have grown bored with the lack of evidence before I found your hiding spot in there."

Tressa gasped. "That ghost was you?" she said, wringing the hem of her dress. "Well! Now I feel silly being afraid of it!"

Pausing, still wringing her dress, she said, "Well, I've just always been at the bar," she said, "Not the one where you were recruiting, a smaller one closer to the docks. My father owned it. My mother waited. She fell ill during the influenza break-out about a decade back. I took her place. Sailors came in telling their stories, probably most of them well exaggerated," she mused, smiling softly at memories. "All the same...I wanted it more than anything else. 'Course a waitress' wages aren't enough to get a ship but..." she didn't give her story a proper ending, still wringing the hem of her dress instead, staring at the ground.

Fer closed his eyes for a moment as he listened to the others speak their story. Deep in thought, he tried to piece together the shards of his past. He heard a small gap of silence in the group, that was his chance. “I guess you could say I hold a different kinda magical talent. Aside from a bit of pyromancing” He started. “From a young age I had to fend for myself. I lost both my parents at a young age fairly close together. The best way I learned to eat was to take things, make them seem to slyly vanish into thin air. Over the years I’ve mastered more my slight of hand than anything else. It’s in more recent years become more of a parlor trick than a way of life. It can be useful at dyer times, cause no one would notice, but you are all safe, I promise.”

Jack looked around the table, her gaze lingering moments on each mates face so she’d remember. Another gap in noise. She took a deep breath starting. “I have a feeling that most of you might look at me and think I’m not of much use, as far as working with the ship goes, you might have other ideas” She sighed “I have always used my looks to my advantage, but I do work hard once I get to where I want. I left home on purpose cause it bored me. I like being free to make my own decisions. Be my own hero when needed. I’m pretty handy with a knife, there’s one strapped against my leg at all times. I will admit though I’ve skipped out of a lot of places I’ve stayed without warning because I’ve chewed up beams and walls with target practice. But don’t worry Captain! I won’t do that to your beautiful ship, I’ll find other ways to work out my aim.” She nodded softly looking from the captain to down at the table feeling like she did have more to prove but not knowing how.

Rous made it a point to finish a bottle of rum by the end of each tale, going from sitting to walking around his cabin. He rarely spoke of himself when he was sober, so he figured he'd get past drunk, to give his new officers the same respect they were giving him now. He listened intently, nodding and grunting at certain parts in each story. He smiled st the end of Nikki's tale. [I]"You'll fit right in with the crew then, Miss!"[/I] He said, putting the empty bottle with the others.

Since he had been drinking since he sent for them, he was on bottle 4 now. Although he had been known to put down a sickening amount of alcohol and still be conscious, he was starting to feel pretty good by the time Blackfire started. He uncorked another bottle.

He frowned slightly at the mention of weather mages. They did indeed exist, but probably wouldn't have an interest in tormenting a tiny town, but how would he know if that was true or not? [I]"Very unfortunate, your mother. I've been to Resthaven, indeed very nasty weather. Hence your fear of the little storm outside."[/I] He said, a little, silly grin plastered on his face. He set down bottle number 4, and loosened bottle number five.

The surgeon had a tame story, compared to the other two. It explained her hate towards killing. He made an excellent decision in picking her, her reserve spoke of skill as a doctor. [I]"Ahh, a rebel with skills other than stealing, good show!"[/I] Bottle 5 went down, bottle 6 came up.

Rous cleared his throat at the mention of Matthew's father being a captain, and shook his head at the idea of black magic. The nerve someone had to have to practice such things, knowing full well it could adversely affect people unknowingly. He grinned once again [I]"Hopefully I get to see that skill soon, I need you to stay after everyone leaves, I gotta talk to you."[/I] Number 6 was more dropped than set down, and bottle seven was opened reluctantly.

Tressa's tale was one of the extreme yearning to travel, and the mention of her own ship? His smile was one of half sincerity, half drunkeness [I]"I remember the influenza outbreak, lost several friends to it, and if you work hard enough, one day you will have your own ship, you will![/I] That bottle was tossed into the pile, and the next tales were told so quickly, he had to double fist bottles, 8 and 9

He raised one bottle in the air, an unspoken toast to the pyromancer, and narrowed his eyes at the "You guys are safe" comment. He smiled once more [I]"Sure hope so, the one thing I hate the most is thieving amongst the crew. Where's the trust then?[/I]"

His attention was directed immediately towards Jack, nodding solemnly as she promised to prove her worth. [I]"I believe you will prove it! And please, no whittling my ship to pieces! [/I]" He exclaimed, whirling around, bottles 8 and 9 sailed out the open window, Where Rous proceeded to lean against the window sill.

His past flooded his memory, thoughts he had pushed down and burried. He didn't like most of the things he hsd done in his long, long stretch of life, hence the drunkeness. With loose lips, he could be honest with them.

[I]"I'm sorry you had to -hic- see me this way. It's the only way I'll talk of my past. [/I]" He turned around, pushing the hair from his forehead, the look on his face was grave, almost angry, mostly disappointed, and all very drunk. He straightened up, composing himself.

[I]"My story is a very, very long one, most of it unimportant, few battles here and there. I'm from the nation of Eire, it's across the sea back the way we came -hiccup!-.I've been on a ship once or twice before, as a passenger, before I actually became a sailor some 30 Years ago. I found that, other than pyromancy and exploring, looting lost temples, and let's face it, killing people (He said, disgusted with himself), I was also good at sailing. My parents (may the father flame keep them warm) Were killed in a raid by the Mountain dwelling heathen tribes while i was away tending our flock of sheep -hichic-. Found my dad beheaded, my mom had been..."[/i] He looked down at his feet, and wobbled a bit, before continuing. [I]"Anyways, i was on my own since, i was a young teenager, maybe 12 or 13. At 25 I learned pyromancy from the true source, earning me this nice little brand". [/I] He pulled open his shirt, exposing the flame shaped burn over his heart, along with just a few of the many of his other scars

[I]"I've done things I'm not proud of. Lots of things. Shameful things, sinking ships full of wounded on orders, blowing whole fortresses to hell, all for some coin in my wallet. But that was then, I'm a changed man now. Any questions?"[/I] He stared at his officers, wobbling side to side as he stood

-d-

Nikki grimaced in sympathy at the captain's tale. She wasn't too concerned with the shameful things. She wasn't without morals, but her idea of good was rather gray. However, the flame brand was of greater interest, and hopefully a more cheerful topic. "The true source?" she queried, tilting her head to the side. "What's that? Where is it?" Maybe she could get herself some pyro powers of her own. Now wouldn't /that/ be fun!

"Ah, captain." The small woman went over and shoved Rous down into a chair. "You may wanna sit before you fall over. And," she said, pulling his shirt back over that familiar mark, "Perhaps save that story for another time. After all, you're incredibly drunk." Blackfire glanced back at the others with a quiet sigh. Damn it, so she'd been right... And the captain had gone and just drunkenly blathered about it! She turned to Nikki with an apologetic look. "Let's ask him tomorrow. I'm only vaguely familiar with the story I think he's going to tell, but I'd rather he not be so... well, drunk. Besides, I have a feeling we may get to go see where the source supposedly once was." She stepped back and folded her arms just underneath her breasts, left hip steadying her against the table, eyes on their captain.

Tressa laced her fingers, stretched her arms forward, and cracked her knuckles. "Aaand this is why I picked up coffee beans. I have a special mix that should help with the headache tomorrow...help. You had quite a lot, and I never did perfect it despite the many times I got to test it. Shall I brew some up now? You take it black or?" Any mousiness from her earlier demeanor was lost - no longer the lost little barmaid venturing out into the unknown, but instead something very, very familiar - a drunken sailor. The one thing she'd known just about all her life.

“I want to build the trust sir” Fer nodded softly in quick answer. As Jack nodded quietly in response still looking down, but feeling better hearing he believed in her, a small smile dancing across her face. It was impressive the amount of rum the captain was able to knock back without knocking himself out. She looked up at him as he started to tell about himself. Listening she became very curious hearing he had been sailing for 30 some years, he looked not even close to the age. The longer he went the more intriguing he became. There was just something about the weird twist of his past that was drawing. Jack wanted to know more, but knew tonight wasn’t going to be the night, as far as the first mate was concerned. Though he seemed to do this on purpose, it was meant to all come out drunk. Fer nodded again in a mutual respect for him, curious in his stories, they didn’t seem to link with his look. He did however want to learn more about the actual power he possessed and glad that it seemed he would be able to.

Matthew nodded at the request of him staying afterwards, and kept listening in on what the others had to say. Matthew raised an eyebrow at the mention of being orphaned around the age of 12, just about the age that Matthew was orphaned. The eyebrow's twin raised as well when the Captain raised his shirt to show the brand across his chest. Matthew knew about that brand. His mother used to tell him tales about the father flame, and how it's chosen were branded with the mark of the father flame, giving them the powers of pyromancy. Matthew kept his mouth shut while the others talked, as he didn't have much to say. As he waited, he was about to rest his hand on one of his pistols, but decided against having his hands anywhere near his pistols with the Captain being this drunk.

Avery watched with worry after she realized what the captain was doing. Her eyes flicking back and forth between the speaker and the captain. By the time it was his turn he was dangerously drunk. Before she could react some of the others had taken care of the captain, sitting him down, and getting something to sober him up. Without saying a word she grabbed a container she hoped would be for waste and placed it at his feet. "I hope you won't need this." she told him softly. "You'll need water sometime tonight otherwise you'll be dehydrated and we don't need an ill captain on our second day out." She added as an after thought.

Hoping she wouldn't be scolded or worse -you never knew how a drunk would react- she rummaged through cabinets in search of a cup. She eventually found one hidden in a cabinet. Twirling her index finger she called water from the air, smiling slightly as it rippled around her spinning finger before dropping into the cup. "Drink this sir, when you can." she told him as politely as possible as she set the cup on a nearby table.

He didn't put up a fuss when he was shoved into a chair, in fact, he laughed. The liquor was really settling in now. He sang the opening lines of the sea shanty "Drunken sailor" As he nodded his reply to the coffee question. He took the cup of water thankfully and gulped it down. [I]"Ahhhh, that'll do a body good! I have picked a very good handful of officers, I have!"[/I] He waved a hand dismissingly. [I]"I appreciate the concern, everyone, but you are free to go. Enjoy yourself, tomorrow should be easy. Blackfire, get with Mr. Landry, and singnal to the other ships about their statuses. I have to talk to Matthew here.."[/I] You knew he trusted and liked someone when he used their first name. And they were all first name worthy.

After they left, Rous stared at Matthew for a minute, a solemn look on his face. He got up after a minute and stumbled to his desk. He rifled through a draw, tossing papers about, mumbling to himself. Finally, he produced a piece of paper. On it, it had the words "Wanted!" With a detailed drawing of a man on the front. [I]"I thought your name looked familiar. Any relation to this man here?"[/I] He handed the paper to Matthew, and awaited his response. He hoped it was just a coincidence, but you never know.....

Blackfire looked at Matthew when the captain showed his chest; so he knew about it too. Hm. At the captain's word, she nodded and let herself out to go and give the orders; however, upon seeing where they were, she gave mumbled instructions to dole out the orders with someone else and made a beeline toward her room. No one would miss her, right? It was after dinner already, and eating wasn't important anyway, haha! Quietly she closed her door behind her. And then she crawled into her empty wardrobe, silently latching it. The storm wasn't happening to them, but even being over it terrified her, so the nice quiet black space of the wardrobe would help keep her calm. She only hoped no one would suddenly want to talk to her.

Matthew gave a small smile at the first few words of drunken sailor and silently hummed it to himself "Hm hm hm hm hm hmm hm hm hm...". He felt happy to hear the Captain was satisfied with his new officers. Matthew waited patiently as all of the the others left the captain's quarters, as he stood at the end of the table across from the Captain. He watched the Captain stumble over to some drawers in what looked like a desk. He returned to the table and Matthew took the poster in the captain's hands. His eyes widened. "Wanted, Jack Lief!". Matthew looked the poster up and down multiple times, his eyes scanning every similarity, which there seemed to be an abundance of. The combed back yet messy light brown hair, the piercing sapphire blue eyes, his cheeky smirk he always wore. "This is definitely him. Where did you find this? When did you find this?" Matthew asked quickly, nearly desperate to find out everything about his father and wether or not he was still alive.

Rous sank in his chair visibly at Matthews response. He rubbed his face as he searched for the best way to answer. He got up and went to the wall where the swords were hanging. [I]"About 10 years ago, the nations Byrsenta and Gramoa were at war. A long, brutal war that left both sides hurting for troops. Many captains took the call as priviteers to fight for these countries as Navies for hire. The countries would claim anyone fighting for the other country as pirates, with bounties for their lives. They paid large amounts of money to us priviteers..."[/I] He paused, pulling a saber off the wall. He inspected it, and walked back to the table, standing in front of Matthew.

[I]"I sailed for Byrsenta, and your father sailed for Gramoa. Your father was a hell of a captain, and a fearsome fighter...."[/I] He held out the saber to Matthew. [I]"He gave his sword to me, as vanquished captains do, and with his last breath requested to go down with his ship. I am terrbily, terribly sorry Matthew. Your Da went down swinging, and you should be proud of that."[/I]

(( You two are terrible people and you should feel bad for giving me feels so early in an rp.))

((Friggun...I was working on a post and then was called away because baby and then it was time to sleep and then "I killed your father" happened and now I don't feel right interrupting it with Happy Coffee-Fetching Tressa is Happy...Guess I'll just paste the post into a notepad and wait XD))