Kanassa

Professional Twit
You are stuck in a deep sleep, suffocated by your past and hung by the horror of history. In this realm, you feel vulnerable and alone before a presence you don't quite understand. Your body is bound by only your doubts, staring up at the sky of ethereal mist matting over purple and green stars, before the smell of stew reaches your nose. Around you, you realize that you are situated on a bed that stands atop a truly awkwardly constructed area. Nothing was natural, just random chunks of environments thrown around to float, making the bed even more out of place.

Some invisible force wills your head to the side, facing a room with no walls, a mashup of a kitchen and a living room complete with a fireplace, a hanging shelves, and a bubbling pot. The strange part was the fact that, without the walls there, the shelves and chandeliers were all hanging on nothing. A man stands over the pot, at least you assume it's a man. He stands tall with skin as unnaturally black as the night, his eyes an empty white void as they look you over.

He has nothing on his face other than the eyes, yet you can tell he's smiling, the mix of unease and warmth crawling over you. "Ah, a guest! Listlessly floating between the realms of death and life!" He doesn't speak, the voice comes from the world around him, echoing in your mind. "Don't worry, you're not dead, yet. You are simply about to be dead. If you're unlucky... Which, to be honest, most of my visitors have been now that I think about it" A hand raises, gesturing to the row of other beds beside you, all holding skeletons. "Do you remember? You're on the last ship bound Solus" A head tilt, the being was curious. "I take it you caught Sea Rot like the other passengers"

A few seconds passed, there was an amused 'hmmm' from the sky. "Yes, you just might survive... Hmmm, there is a curious ripple of destiny around you. There is more for you after this..." The being dips a spoon into the pot and collects some of the contents, a strange transparent substance that glowed like a star. "Tell you what, I will help you out. You could use all the help you can get" Within a blink of an eye, the entity is upon you, spoon in hand. "This is a piece of a Star. yes, the shiny ones. No, don't ask anything, questions are for later. Stars and their positions are heavily tied to our fates and spirits. And with our spirits, we use magic- I'm trying not to give away too much... but I'm giving you a gift" You have no choice in the matter, the tall, blank man shoved the spoon into your mouth and stuffs it down your throat. At the same time, everything around you seems to begin fading. You're leaving this realm. "Oh, you are a trooper. You're waking up now. But please, after you've discovered my gift, I only ask that you don't die and come look for me. I foresee some interesting days ahead..."

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There was darkness. And in the darkness, Tyrian could only hang over an eternal pit, only able to grab onto his confusion. Gone was the bed, gone was the world, gone was the faceless entity of his delusion. All drained away by the abyss. Was this it? Was that merely fragments of some strange dream his body put him through in its final moments? Maybe it was how his mind visualized the process of his soul and brain disconnecting. Maybe it was just the rot.

"Och, what's thes? Ah hink th' lad's startin' tae reach fur air!" At first, the voice was distant, like a fist banging on glass. But the force began to crack the glass, the volume broke thorugh the cracks, shattering the glass and letting light stream in, engulfing the man with it's shine. "Nae, nae, aam nae yer maw ye furry dobber"

The first thing Tyrian registered after that was pain. The numbness of the dream had escaped him along with a haggard release of breath, his eyes snapping opn and sweat pouring down his skin as if he were melting. "What... What... I..." The first thing he saw was a row of yellow teeth hidden behind a bushy white beard, coupled with a heavy case of morning breath. "Gah, that smell! Close your mouth, you old coger!" He felt his body give way as it was dropped to the floor by the two men carrying him. "Were you breathing on me this entire time? No wonder I was out cold."

The Old man's laugh echoed throughout Tyrian's mind, knocking about in his brain like each 'a' in 'ha' cracked a piece of his skull. "Yoo're nae 'at unlucky, laddy. if Ah hud bin, yoo'd nae hae lasted thes lang, i'll bit" It felt like the morning after happy hour, memory hazy, head hammering, but no goblin covered in feathers and stuck to a trade prince's grand ego statue. The fact that Tyrian had been stropped on the steps of a ship rocking against heavy waves did not help the feeling. "Then again, you weren't supposed to survive the rot..."

Slowly, recognizable images and words sprang to mind, making stepping stones across murky waters. He was heading to Solus, the passengers and crew started coming down with the Rot, he went to check on his supplies and- Damn it. He grumbled to himself, getting to his feet and leaning against the wall to stabilize himself. I must have fallen by my supply crate before I realized I had it. "That's right, I should be dead. My insides feel like they've been through a butchery" How the hell was he still alive? The rot had certainly gotten serious, he could feel what toll it had taken on his innards, his lungs were still having problems pushing out breath. Yet, the pain was starting to fade. It was still there, but it was almost like the rot was dissolving, no longer biting into his organs a the very least. "Can't even take a celebritory 'wahoo' at surviving"

"And good timing too" The bearded man, who Tyrian recgonised as the ship's Captain now, seemed utterly unphased as he walked back to the bottom of the stairs. Behind Tyrian laid the rest of the victims of the rot, all looking as sweaty, dishelveled and dead as Tyrian probably looked at the moment. The Captain looked gleeful. "We waur in th' wey o flin' ye corpse overboard an' see hoo ye body looked bobbin' up an' doon. E'en took bets!"

"Good to know the safety of your loyal passengers and crew mean so little to you"

"Ah awreddy hae ye money. Anither corpse oan thes ship doesnae pure techt much, ey?" He thought this was particularly funny.

"I would call that a bad business strategy, but considering our destination... Yeah, I suppose you won't really need any returning customers either way" Still, Tyrian had to pull his attention away, looking down at his right hand, which twitched with irritation under his leather glove. "Guess that's sticking with me then..."

The Captian took it upon himself to start poking and prodding random Rot Victims. "Onie ay ye shits want tae pull th' bullshit recovery card noo? coz some ay th' lads waur real excited tae flin' some deid bodies overboard"
 
You are stuck in a deep sleep, suffocated by your past and hung by the horror of history. In this realm, you feel vulnerable and alone before a presence you don't quite understand. Your body is bound by only your doubts, staring up at the sky of ethereal mist matting over purple and green stars, before the smell of stew reaches your nose. Around you, you realize that you are situated on a bed that stands atop a truly awkwardly constructed area. Nothing was natural, just random chunks of environments thrown around to float, making the bed even more out of place.

Some invisible force wills your head to the side, facing a room with no walls, a mashup of a kitchen and a living room complete with a fireplace, a hanging shelves, and a bubbling pot. The strange part was the fact that, without the walls there, the shelves and chandeliers were all hanging on nothing. A man stands over the pot, at least you assume it's a man. He stands tall with skin as unnaturally black as the night, his eyes an empty white void as they look you over.

He has nothing on his face other than the eyes, yet you can tell he's smiling, the mix of unease and warmth crawling over you. "Ah, a guest! Listlessly floating between the realms of death and life!" He doesn't speak, the voice comes from the world around him, echoing in your mind. "Don't worry, you're not dead, yet. You are simply about to be dead. If you're unlucky... Which, to be honest, most of my visitors have been now that I think about it" A hand raises, gesturing to the row of other beds beside you, all holding skeletons. "Do you remember? You're on the last ship bound Solus" A head tilt, the being was curious. "I take it you caught Sea Rot like the other passengers"

A few seconds passed, there was an amused 'hmmm' from the sky. "Yes, you just might survive... Hmmm, there is a curious ripple of destiny around you. There is more for you after this..." The being dips a spoon into the pot and collects some of the contents, a strange transparent substance that glowed like a star. "Tell you what, I will help you out. You could use all the help you can get" Within a blink of an eye, the entity is upon you, spoon in hand. "This is a piece of a Star. yes, the shiny ones. No, don't ask anything, questions are for later. Stars and their positions are heavily tied to our fates and spirits. And with our spirits, we use magic- I'm trying not to give away too much... but I'm giving you a gift" You have no choice in the matter, the tall, blank man shoved the spoon into your mouth and stuffs it down your throat. At the same time, everything around you seems to begin fading. You're leaving this realm. "Oh, you are a trooper. You're waking up now. But please, after you've discovered my gift, I only ask that you don't die and come look for me. I foresee some interesting days ahead..."

Kestral was alone in a void, one that both sucked and pulled at her being but yet also filled her so completely she felt like she might burst. There was complete blackness, thick and suffocating as if it were a living thing wrapping cold fingers around her and squeezing tightly. She felt suspended and unattached at first, but slowly there was a tingling sensation coming from somewhere she could not name, like one of the threads that made up her person was being tugged at gently so that she began to unravel. The feeling intensified, flooding her piece by piece so that she began to become cemented to some solid ground beneath her instead of floating. She was lying down, she realized...slightly turned onto her side. The blackness was also beginning to fade, giving away to a soft and stinging orange as if she was looking at the sun behind closed eyelids.

Her sense of presence was becoming more solidified, the girl now aware of more than simply her orientation. She could feel the tips of her fingers, the sensation of her toes shoved into the very front of her boots. There was an aching in her neck and a throbbing in her core. A sharp object was wedged between her shoulder blades while another poked and prodded at her stomach. Then, the silence that previously surrounded her was broken, the booming, intrusive voice above her sending shots into her brain with every spoken syllable. Her eyes fluttered open, the bright sun (that suddenly made her shrink back like a beaten dog) the now probable source of the orange that had been visible behind her closed eyes.

A man stood above her, his white beard swaying above her head while his shoe once more was kicked into her side. Kestral groaned softly, trying to move like a drunken fool as she weakly shoved the boot away. "That....hurts..." Her words were almost incoherent, the female's vision suddenly swimming with colour as she tried to sit up only to find herself falling right back down. "Head hurts like I've fallen right off a mountain..." She mumbled some more, bringing up a hand to shelter her hands from the blinding sunlight while the other slid beneath her and supported her weight as she tried to sit up again. This time she succeeded.

She turned around, trying to find the source of whatever had been causing the discomfort between her shoulder blades. Relief rushed through her when she found her wings intact, if only with slightly ruffled feathers. Looking down though at what had been causing her such displeasure sent a shock running through her system. The female gasped as she flicked out a small dagger from one of her boots. It took her a second longer to realize that the weapon was not needed against the dead and somewhat bloated body whose head she had been placed on. Kestral dry heaved, covering her mouth and feeling her stomach twist with disgust at the memories that were churned up at the sight of the distorted corpse. It brought her right back to the night of the massacre at Aerie, where bodies had been strewn about like fallen flower petals.

Kestral forced herself to look away, instead gazing at the man whose speaking had welcomed her back into this life. It was the captain of the ship, the ship she had bordered to get to Solus. She remembered then what had happened, all her thoughts from the moment she had bordered the ship coming rushing back to her. There had been Rot, the disease spreading through the people on board as if it was a personification of the Grim Reaper come to claim their souls. Although she had tried her best to remain separate from the infected, she too had perished among the majority of them. The last few days of complete agony revisted her, making the female shudder. Her wings quacked with the realization of how she had died, fear sending goosebumps rising on her arms as she looked around, her eyes meeting those of a man near the captain. "How am I alive?"
 
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Bewildered from the dream, Teresa awoke from her slumber. She was shaking. Was that real? Who was that? Teresa had only just arrived on the ship a couple hours ago, she went to bed and that's it. She had heard one of the sailors talk about some sort of disease that she hadn't heard off. Father told her to be wary of the sea because out there lies dangers. Teresa held back a tear, she had mourned enough for Father. He might be out there, she whispered to herself only just awoken in her bed. Looking around, trying to reason. Trying to find it.

She touched the wet wood on the walls. She was unsure if it was salt water or... something else. She got out of the bed, the atmosphere hit her. The thick fog like air- It was unbearably heavy. She walked around, halting on her leg. She may have caught the disease, but she seemed a lot better than the other sailors. Her ashen hair fell down her shoulders as she let it down. It was long and luscious, she got it from her father. Let's not think about him she whispered.

She felt she was hungry and thirsty. Looking around at the other passengers, all huddled up in the belly of the ship. Like fish. She had never been on a ship before, only heard tales of the great ships like Lancaster going down to sea monsters. She didn't believe the fairy tales. She walked around from the bed. Teresa moved her hand over to look out of the window. She had never ever seen so much liquid water, only the ice. The waves were crashing against the vessel, making a noise she had never heard before. Water... As far as the eye could see. It reached everywhere.

Teresa could handle herself, but she was still scared of whatever may lay beneath the sheets of water. She had killed monsters, but what had to be under the sea, was not a monster. Teresa wasn't worried though. The sailors were chanting, some song. Most of the passengers were asleep. She got up on deck, once again looking out over the sea. She rested her arms on the railing and gently smiled. She was still in a state of shock of what her dream was about but passed it off as a dream and nothing more.
 
"Either that old hag in the medical bay with the crooked teeth is secretly the greatest medical expert of all time, or we are insanely lucky" Tyrian pushed off the wall to approach the woman as other victims began to wake up, noting the wings and how uncomfortable those must have made the rot-induced sleep. He at least had the luck of falling on his front. "We should be dead." He stated with a tone so matter-of-fact, the strangeness of the situation hibernating under the shelter of his joy at still breathing. His left hand, the one not itching or shaking, moved out to off the other Critter a help up. It was odd, there was a strange sense of connection throughout the room, to various victims that he knew he hadn't interacted with on the ship or before the voyage.

Was it simply his mind grasping for common ground to share relief in others? What other explanation could there be? That stupid dream came up again. "But we're not. So, at the very least as soon as we get to Solus, I'm finding the closest thing they have to a tavern, filling up on ale and boasting about a twisted version of this story to wenches" His eyes glanced over another survivor moving past him, pushing up the stair towards the upper deck. Couldn'tblamee her, after having your lungs choked out by mould, you'd probably want to get some air or puke your guts out into the ocean. "Lucky us."

The Captain pursued Teresa, grumbling about how he didn't want her vomiting or anything on his ship. "Besides, ye coods still be deid! mebbe yoo'll drap tae th' fluir in minute an' we'll hae somethin' tae flin'"
 
The sea was getting calmer. She let her thoughts drift as the wind carried her to where she wanted to be. She felt untangled and not committed to anything. Here she could be safe and sheltered from her history on the MYriad. She was scared that her father would come home to see that his daughter isn't home. The sky was pale, like the ocean. If Teresa was close enough she could've seen her reflection, she thought. She looked as if she were vomiting from someone else's point of view. She wasn't feeling ill anymore, she definitely did feel sick though. She grabbed her sword, just to feel it. It was hot, it glowed too. She was suspicious but felt like checking what it was, would raise too much attention. She was morbidly curious though. She looked back at her hand, a burn mark that resembled a letter. She couldn't read so Teresa wouldn't be the one to ask. Looking out over the sea, she noticed fish or what looked like fish. was keeping pace with the ship. Teresa bent over and looked more thoroughly, they looked broken and dying. Teresa had to agree with her conscience now. She was scared, she just wanted to get away and now she's on a ship with dead fish around her and everyone dying from some sort of disease that she had never heard of. She turned around to panic but heard a voice talking to her.

"Excuse me? I'm not feeling ill, I am alright" she said to the man talking to her. She was honest, she didn't feel bad at all. The man looked like a experienced seafarer
 
A low groan escaped Naiel's lips as she returned to the waking world. Communing with the dead in feverish dreams was nothing new for her, though never did they come from the stars above. The dead often lived in the loam below, or the trees, or latched on to animals and people so they could whisk around the land free of care. A detail that struck the shaman immediately was that she could see specters floating around the ship. Wailing banshees gripping the sides of the hull, hysterical ghosts clutching their now-lifeless shells as they cursed that dreaded miasma. Sharah didn't remember performing a ceremony or consuming a potion to do so, many of her memories were still murky from the illness, but one remained clear: The man in her dream and the liquid starlight. Had he given her the ability to see the dead? Did that mean a part of her had died in there as well? More questions formed in her mind, faster than she could pose answers to them, so she dismissed the task for now.

Those that weren't already dead had a low fog hovering over them, an acrid yellow mist looming over them like impatient vultures. The disease was waiting to overwhelm their body and soul alike. Without her supplies Naiel was not confident she could provide much treatment, so she stood and plodded out of the sick bay and up to the top deck. Seawater stung her nostrils but cleared away the stench of malicious ghosts, but there was no freedom from her newfound gift up above. The fish besides the boat twinkled in her eyes as little beacons, some seeming to be already dead while others seemed well on their way.

"Begone, leeches of the dying," she hissed down at the fish in her native tongue. Some spirits would leave as soon as someone could see and speak to them, though they often would need to be formally banished. She hoped the former was true now.
 
Kez narrowed her eyes, the emerald green hues there darkening to the colour of a stormy sea. "The lady in the medical bay can barely see more than a foot in front of her and thinks leeches is a cure for just about anything under the sun. I highly doubt she had something to do with this." The memory of a pot brewing over a fire flashed in her memory, the liquid inside glowing like starlight. It was there and gone too quickly for her to grasp onto it though and soon the thought was gone once more. She rolled her shoulders, the wings that arced two meters on either side of her lengthening. Despite her feathery appendages, she looked somewhat like a cat stretching after waking up from a long nap.

The female accepted his hand, letting go a little too soon after being helped up and partially swayed where she stood. She caught his hand again, this time righting herself and making sure she was not going to lose her footing (and go tumbling straight down to the wooden decking) before letting go a second time. Kestral dragged in a breath, the salty air making her partially healed lungs, still heavy with the after-shocks of Rot, sting and burn. She dragged nimbled fingers through her hair, trying to right her mangled mess of thoughts as well as grasp what had actually happened. How had she been found? Why was she still alive? What was she going to do now? All she succeeded in doing was giving herself a headache though. There's only one thing I need to really know...I'm alive and don't need to be fed to whatever beasties live beneath the waves. The thought calmed her down, the female lifting her gaze to the other Beastial being who had helped her up.

"Not dead will be good enough for me right now. On second thought, some clean clothes not tainted with dead body gunk and freshwater would be good too." She chuckled at his mention of a tavern, a small smile gracing her features. It lit up her face, making her eyes as wide as a bird's soften. "Although, a couple of ales or even sweet wine would go down a treat." The captain's voice reached her ears, the heavy timbre of his tone making her scowl momentarily. "We're walking and breathing aren't we? That's as far from dead as possible. I don't quite enjoy getting wet, so if you even think to throw me into those murky waters you might want to second guess yourself."
 
"That's what they all say..." The Old Man mused, tapping against the railing with a twitch of one remaining eye he had. Past that point, his voice came out as unintelligible as he looked over the side of the ship, the light fog starting to pick up around them. "And now all this cafuffle is drowning us" Another member of the crew was stopped by the old geezer. "Tell those layabouts to starts lowering the sails. With this fog, we need to slow down before a rock comes and gets us in the rear" He could hear the bird's growl towards him from up deck, the stairs not being that big. "For now, lass. For now."

The fish surrounding the ship were an oddity to be sure. While their scales seemed to peel off and their flesh bloated as if decomposing, they still moved and showed no sort of reaction to what was happening. No fear or running away like usual fish. They just keep with the ship. It was starting to feel like they were watching, Naiel would even partially hear the closest thing a fish could muster to chanting. If one was perceptive enough, they might just be able to catch a glimpse of sharp teeth that bite into the fish's own flesh.

"Lady luck it is then" Tyrian gingerly pulled her up to her feet, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he watched the woman almost stumble over himself. Was it a funny dight, or did he just like others making mistakes that no one saw him make? "I'm sure we have some clean clothes around here... By that I mean, some people have sure to bring them along. Might have some in the supply crates... Don't know if they'd be in your size, they were supposed to sold to some prat who got himself jailed before he had a chance to get on the bloody boat" He glanced up the steps, the forming fog even visible here, an oppressive cold sinking over the ship. "I wouldn't recommend the ship's supply, not with that chef of theirs" Tyrians could have sworn he found an eyeball in his last meal before the rot set in. "Looks like our trip is only getting longer..." He sounded irritated. The longer he was stuck on this boat, the longer Otto was making profits without him. "You got a name, Lady? I-" He cut himself off with a sharp groan, his irritated hand shaking as pain shot through it. It was like something within was trying to desperately escape by scratching at his hand from the inside.
 
Kestral listened to his suggestion on getting clothes from the supply crates, shaking her head when he was finished speaking. "Whoever or whatever it was, they have my blessing and gratitude. As for the clothes, I doubt they'd fit me...at least not without a little alterations." Her gaze flicked to her wings behind her, wincing slightly as she folded them gently against her back. They had been bent at an odd angle during her 'death sleep' or whatever it was called, making them stiff and sore now. As much as she considered flying to stretch them out, the thick fog that was roiling in and making her skin feel sticky with salt was not the best conditions for such an activity. The female felt the misty weather beginning to chill her, sending goosebumps rising on her flesh and making her teeth chatter together. She bit down and crossed her arms over her chest before speaking again.

"Who knows, maybe the jailbird might request the clothes be returned one day. I'm not one to steal the clothes off someone else's back. I have some of my own down in the cargo hold. but nothing very suitable for this weather I fear." She had fled Aerie with very little, her nervous return only long enough for her to gather enough supplies to make it to the ship. There had been very little time to pack outfits for all occasions, considering there had still be bounty hunters prowling around. "I'll make do...perhaps one of the deceased passengers has a coat I could make use of. They won't find much use for it if they are well and truly dead. I'll wait though before taking anything, give anyone who might recover like we did enough time to wake."

He asked her name, the female's eyes turning to look out into the mist that was steadily growing around them. Even with her above-average vision, all she could see was a never-ending wall of white. She was readying herself to answer when he groaned, making the female tear her sights away from the surroundings to look at him once more. He was looking down at his hand, her brows furrowed as she tried to understand what was going on. Could this be a side-effect of waking up? Am I going to get it too? Uncertainty filled her as she looked at Tyrian with concern. "It's Kestral, my name that is. Are you alright?"
 
A Dwemer walked towards the others.
"Has anyone seen a hammer around here?" He asked.
He was a bit groggy. The dreams definitely didn't help with that.
 
"Nothing a pair of scissors and stuff can't help with" He moved back against the wall, his bushy tail falling to the wayside. "Hey, it's not his until he pays for it. And until he pays for it, the coat's still on the market. Just because his dumbass got caught trying to light another man's wares on fire doesn't mean he has any reservations for my stock" He tries to tighten the glove around his fingers, the pain coming in short waves, reaching up towards his nails and burning the tips. "Don't think it's a good idea to be trouncing about in the coat of a bunch of corpses. Could be carrying something that'll actually kill you this time" His eyes fell upon her wings, trying to find something to distract him from the pain. They looked a bit mangled from the bad sleeping position, but still had that crisp grace that bird-folk and birds, in general, seemed to always carry.

"I'm fan-fucking-tastic, Miss" He tried to wave off the situation, beating his irritated hand against the wood a few times with a chuckle. "Must be the shock, my body still... Getting back up. Kestral. Nice name. Nice feathers. Nice hair. Everythings nice. You'd look good in a coat. Get a coat. Tthe one I've been telling you about, yes, yes. No, I have not seen a hammer, I've been dead for the past few minutes." Move on from the subject, ignore the pain and it wills top bugging you. He kept that in front of his mind. He didn't even realize that he'd responded to the blue visitor.
 
"I swear if those imbeciles did something with my-oh, wait, it's right here," Glacir said, grabbing it from his belt. He twirled it in his hand for a bit and then put it back on his belt.
 
Kestral raised a brow at the fluffed out tail that swished behind him, the girl only getting a good and proper look at it now. She had a sudden desire to touch it, needing to see if it was going to be as soft and silky as it looked...she shook her head to herself though, deciding against it. Kez knew what it was like to have people touch her wings without asking first, the feeling was invasive and exposing so she figured this man must have similar feelings about his own Beastial aspects. He offered further advice on what could be done for the alterations, the girl deciding that she liked Tyrian. It might be the mere potential of a friendship, but the main issue was that she didn't immediately feel like stabbing him whenever he looked her way. Perhaps it was because he also had animal parts like her, or maybe it was the fact that he was being helpful. Either way, she found that his company was not gruesome.

"I guess you're right then...it is still up for grabs. Maybe I'll do a quality check for him in the meantime, make sure that he's getting what he pays for by trying it out a little." She didn't like the idea of stealing, but Tyrian was very convincing with his reasoning. "I'll not make any slits in the back just yet, might be best to tuck my wings in to keep them from getting cold anyway. Also, you'll still be able to sell it that way." She shivered at the point he brought up about the corpses coats, either from the cold or from the thought of actually carrying out her suggested plan of taking some warm clothing from them. "I don't fancy getting into clean clothes only to have the coat still covered with dead stench now that I think about it." His hand seemed to really be bothering him, the female's concern growing more as she furrowed her brows until they nearly met in the centre of her forehead.

He beat his hand against nearby railing, making Kez flinch every time her sensitive ears heard the thud of flesh hitting the wood. She still listened to his compliment though, his words catching her off guard. Back in Aerie, she had always been warned of leaving....whispers always spreading of some unlucky sod who had been mashed up, pulverized or had his bones and wings ground into fine dust to be sold to the highest bidder. Sometimes, it was even other Beastials themselves who assisted the bounty hunters on the mission. Trust was not to be given lightly...that had been drilled into her time and time again. Bird-folk were not appreciated in the outside world and that they were despised and merely trophies to be used and boasted about, sold to whoever was willing to believe the potion-maker's lies. This was what she had been told. Tyrian though, he seemed to think otherwise and this brought an unstoppable rosy hue rising to her face.

She hoped the heat that flushed her face was not too obvious while he was transfixed with the pain in his hand, the girl also hoping that her nose might be red from the cold so that the peachy colour of her cheeks could be chalked up to the misty weather too. Someone asked about a hammer, the girl looking over her shoulder to see a blue-fleshed Dwemer. "I'm sorry, I haven't seen what you're looking for-" he seemed to locate it before she could offer that he might find it in the cargo hold, the girl looking back to Tyrian. "I might be wrong here, but isn't smacking your hand against the ship when it is already in pain rather illogical? Why don't you see if the medical bay woman has any herbs of sort that could numb the pain...I wouldn't mind getting myself for this thumping headache I woke up with."
 
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"Hmmm, yeah, yeah. You'd be testing the product" He clicked his tongue against his teeth, his face appreciative as he curled his fingers into a fist, putting pressure on the pain. Let the numbness trickle in, let some relief, just let something other than that piping hot irritation of his skin ripping itself apart. "See, you keep yourself warm and you help out your local goodnatured conman- I mean, merchant. And you don't even have to pay for it!" The tone of voice was accompanied by a joking edge, humor surrounding shady dealings was a staple back in Oxis, mostly because you'd never know if it was true or not. In essence, she was merely sampling the goods that Tyrian really doubted would sell for a good price considering that most people heading to Solus were those down on their luck in terms of money. It was only when she sought to purchase it that he would charge her. "Though, I don't see much point in worrying about the jail-bird. I mean, it's not like he'll ever be in Solus"

"Yeah. Besides, might piss off their spirits and boy, oh boy have I heard a tale or two about what pissed off spirits do with the bird who nicks their knickers" He stopped his hand mid-thump when he noticed the woman flinching with every bash against the wood. He sometimes forgot how sensitive other Critter's ears could be. You could say he's been far away from others of his kind for a while now, while Oxis was home to many diverse species, Critters were still a minority and he didn't exactly spend his time looking for people who looked like him, just the ones that he could get money out of. "Quick powerful pressure to an ache can cause a numbness effect to the point of irritation" At least, that's what he'd found throughout the years. It's the reason why you usually stomp on your own foot when it's acheing or itchy. "I don't trust that hag as far as I can go without smelling her, but if you're going anyway..."

"How'd you miss your own hammer on your belt? A hammer isn't exactly a hard thing to notice"
 
She was getting colder by the second now, the mist curling around them like spirits from another dimension. Kestral could taste salt on the wet air, slapping her dry tongue against the roof of her mouth as she tried to take some of that moisture for herself. Not only did she have a headache, but she was thirsty too and that needed to be remedied as soon as possible. It didn't slip by her that he had called himself a conman...although that personality aspect was one she could have guessed from his slackened approach to relieving some guy in jail of his potential purchase. Kez rubbed her arms with her hands, lips faintly blue. Although she had wished the heat that had risen to her face would disappear quickly, now that it was gone she was wishing for it back...at least then the chattering in her teeth wouldn't be growing louder as the cold bit into her bones. "I doubt that you'll ever see him again...I heard that this might be the last ship heading to Solus to prevent over-populating, so if he wasn't here now then he's probably missed his chance."

"Trust me, if there was any sort of remedy stored on this ship which meant I could put off a visit to her, I would have suggested it already. I don't exactly want to be getting in the captain's bad books when he's still considering throwing us overboard...that means no pinching any items while he's not looking." Her wings shuddered stiffly, the appendages folding around her front from where they had previously been folded against her back. "I have more fear of those living than those spirits who might have a moan at me taking a jacket." She added in response, arms still wrapped around her as she made her way towards the door that would lead to the ships cabin area. Her booted steps clanked against the ships wooden passageway, the female's sharp eyes scanning the signage on doors they passed until she found the one she want: the etching of a caduceus scratched into the damp wood.

"This must be the medical bay." She said, flicking a look to Tyrian over her shoulder as she prepared herself to open the door.
 
Looking her over and noticing how badly the cold was affecting her, he pursed his lips, the thought of doing the right thing was an annoying one. Especially when towards someone he'd probably never see again. There was some hesitation, a lull of the head as he mulled it over, before letting a sigh escape. He could justify this as building up a reputation for himself among the new clientele. "I guess you're not used to the cold or something? You from Kidri or Novak?" He came closer to her, pulling out a small red crystal, clear something broken away from a bigger crystal and pushed it into her palm. "Here, most people refer to this as a fire crystal; though I'd say it's more complicated than that. Should provide you with some heat. Just... Don't shake it too much or it'll be like letting off a firework in your hand"

"I didn't say nothing about no offense, just wondering how you can't feel a hammer on your hips. Those things are heavy" Tyrian held up his hands as a plea. Again, he felt connected to this person in some way. What the hell? "Rot seems to be mucking about with everyone's brains today. It gave me the trippiest of dreams" The comment on dream was offhanded and small as he turned to walk with his new friend? Mark? Customer? Acquaintance? Bird. New bird person. "Yeah, nobody is going to Solus who expects to return. At least, not for a while" As he walked, his tail picked up, swaying and trying it's best not to bump into anyone. It didn't succeed often, but it tried. "Hey, I'm a merchant, not a thief. There's a difference. It's a tiny, tiny difference, but a difference none the less" He tried to stay jokey, stay focused on the other person, it made it easier to cope with the hand.

Immediately upon reaching the door, the two were hit with a rather putrid smell digging into their nostrils. As if someone had been operated on with no cleanup. "In my opinion, a place of healing should not bring back memories of pubic toiletries that haven't been cleaned in over a month" Upon pushing the door open they'd be met with an old woman who shared many features with the captain, including the single eye... And the beard.

"Oh dear, what do we have here?"
 
He spoke just before she was about to turn the handle on the creaky door, the girl turning instead to face him. When they had begun to venture further into the bowels of the ship, she had needed to tuck her wings close to her body. The feathers tickled the back of her neck, a sensation she was by now used to although it was still noticeable. Back in Aerie, all the buildings and architecture were designed with the bird-folks anatomy in mind. Most structures were tall and open, with windows large enough for anyone to slip through as well as having latches on both the inside and the inside. There were also no narrow passages, everything having easy access so that confinement of wings was not necessary. This ship on the other hand was not exactly made for people like her and she had to adapt accordingly.

"I'm actually from Tarkus, I used to live in one of the mountainous areas close to the border of Kidri so the climate was quite warm year round. Our winter's required nothing more than lengthening of sleeves and perhaps a shawl. Summer always produced large fruit from the trees that grew on the roof of my home, the air used to always smell of citrus and jasmine." She exposed her memories without much inhibition. There was nothing more to be secretive about with concerns to Aerie, it had been destroyed from the moment the Bird Beastials had needed to abadon it. He stepped closer, pulling out a rock deeply red. It seemed ominous to her at first with it's colouring like that of blood, but even from where she stood she could feel the heat radiating off of it. Tyrian placed it in her hand, the delicious warmth from the stone immediately making her cold fingers which brushed against his palm tingle. Kestral didn't quite know what to say, wrapping both hands around it until the faint glow of red was visible between her fingers.

"Thanks, Tyrian. I'll be sure to return it when I retrieve that coat."Her words didn't quite let on to the appreciation she felt, but she hoped her gratitude would at least reflect in her eyes. She slipped into another conversation topic, not wanting to dwell too long on the good he had done for her. "I don't remember too much about what happened during the death-sleep. I also had some strange things crossing my mind before I woke." The smell from the other side of the door assaulted her nostrils immediately, making the girl scrunch up her face in disgust until her nose wrinkled slightly. "This makes me think more of the corpses back on the deck than of anything remotely linked to healing." She stepped inside, greeted by a rather haggard older woman who looked as if she had stayed in the sun too long and shriveled up like a prune. Odd bits of fine gray hair stuck out like they didn't know which direction to go, giving the other female the appearance of having run through a leafless thorn bush.

"Um...hi. I need something for a headache, perhaps feverfew or white willow bark?" She tried to ignore the woman's lack of a second eye, looking instead at the insides of the medical bay.
 
"Oh, you're from that Aerie colony?" In his travels, he had heard plenty of the land, especially of the latest thing people didn't like. Turns out the paranoids Nobels of Tarkus weren't exactly thrilled to have an independent society set up in their land, but they weren't exactly allowed to do anything about it. "Guess it explains the quality feathers" Amber eyes lingered over the wings again, he hadn't much experience with bird folk, though considering his profession and the problems Critters usually face in the form of hunters; he realized his words might have come off wrong. "So, you're used to a hot environment" He moved away from the implication.

She looked rather happy to have the crystal, it must have been pretty damn cold for her. Even her eyes were lighting up. "You know, if you keep giving me these things back, I'm never gonna get to talk you out of your wallet" He pulled his hand away from hers, dropping it to his side as he moved on. "What, you see a faceless man too?" He laughed and waved off the comment, engaging in the conversation with the lady.

"You don't need made up leaves, dearie. We gots sum dust and jewjew juice" THe Old lady bustled about, pulling various jars and containers off shelves as well as bowl to mix it all up in.

"You sure you wanted to come in here?"
 
The sea was getting boring. It's just water. How people live out here is beyond Teresa. She's had enough of the blue wasteland that lay below her. It was fascinating, but she could not touch. She felt her entire body crumble, she was tired but she recovered from it and turned around and looked on the other side of the ship. The same. Blue and deep. Teresa noticed her ashen hair blow in the wind, it was picking it up and making it dance. She felt her body tingle, it's been long since someone.. or something has touched her hair. This felt good she thought to herself. Teresa was getting cocky, she wanted to fight. She felt it in her blood, she needed to get some aggression out. How could he just leave me like that? Who is he meeting now? Where is he? What is he doing? What's more important than the last of his blood, his family, she continued like this until she once again caught the eye of the woman on deck with her. She wanted to approach her, she had never done that or even considered it. The dark sky was coming down quicker and quicker. Teresa didn't notice at first but now that she comes to think of it. It was like the nights in the cabin, with her father. She missed him, she really did. She was worried. She couldn't sleep at night.

She moved over the wet deck towards the woman. She didn't notice Teresa at first, but eventually, she did. She looked at her, expecting a look back.
"So.. Why are you on this boat? I'm Teresa!" she said in a happy tone
 
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