*finds a dead horse AND RPSTURBATES THE CRAP OUT OF IT*
Patches appeared to be delighted by their vessel. She strode around it, fingering things as if she had never seen them before, laughing uproariously at things that weren't funny, and most of all, skillfully laughing off questions about where she had come from and how she had ended up on the planet. The last were so numerous that she had little
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The lad actually had his hands full with suspicion of other crewmembers anyway. Iden downright creeped him out, he was still afraid of Ignatious no matter how polite they both could be to one another, and this Grendel fellow was friends with Ignatious, which in itself made Shin-sin-fa nervous. Adding this buxom maroon made things more difficult, but particularly because Shin-sin-fa knew she was a pirate.
She'd said she'd known his ilk, and what she'd meant was, I know my kind. He did too, and he didn't like her bouncing, almost crazy exuberance one bit. Women always confused him, and women pirates were particularly clever, vicious, and manipulative. Part of what made him suspicious was that she acted just like a maroon ought to act. He didn't think they ought to kill her, or leave her even, but rather that she should be locked up and under surveillance.
It occurred to him that she might actually BE under surveillance, because Tag was watching her closely as well, and maybe the first mate had decided there was more to be learned from observing her movement and tendencies while free. If that was the case, he probably shouldn't be following her himself, he reflected. She would be on her guard then.
He squunched his eyes shut and shook his head. No, he couldn't leave her. What good did it do to find out she was an amoral cutthroat by finding Anthony in a bloody heap on the deck, or some other such unimaginable but possible horror? It was better to follow her and prevent her from doing things simply by intimidating her. If Tag didn't like it, he could order Shin-sin-fa away.
He set off after her determinedly.
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She turned and lifted an eyebrow at the kitty.
"You don't need to be sore," she said playfully. "I'm sure you're a right terror when a two hundred plus pound woman isn't leaping onto your head out of trees."
He scowled and turned his face away, though his eyes didn't leave her.
"Did you want your knives back?" she asked, gesturing at the bag she'd slung onto the bunk.
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"You keep doing that, your face is gonna stay that way," she teased, carefully plucking each blade out and laying them all in a row on his berth. He waited until she had finished and moved away before beginning the laborious process of secreting them all within his garments again.
Shin-sin-fa moved as quickly as he could, and soon scuttled into the galley just in time to see her gaining the deck. He pattered up the steps after her, his hat pulled down low and his ears flattened.
She turned around, her face lighting up with surprise. "Oh, hello again. I say, you wanted something more than your knives? ...Oh I get it, you're following me 'cause you wanted to pay me." A broad grin split her rounded features.
Shin-sin-fa jerked back in surprise, and his face scrunched down into a knot of displeasure only seconds later. "Am not," he grunted. "I were comin' up here anyway." He watched her distrustfully as she nodded, a patronizing look on her face, and waddled over to the side, sitting right on the deck and putting her back against the rail.
He crawled up into the rigging, crouching on a yardarm, and tried to pretend he was very interested in the bats (or bat-like creatures--he wasn't quite sure what they were) swooping about above the mast.
He was glad her berth was by his now, because at least then he would have an excuse for keeping track of her at night. It would have looked really funny for him to start staring at her when she was asleep.
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"Where did you serve before the Etherium, Shin-sin-fa?" she asked conversationally without taking her eyes off of the phenomenon.
There was no answer from above; he was either feigning deafness or giving her the cold shoulder. She didn't figure him to have enough willpower for either one.
Scrap was playing chess with himself on the deck a few feet from her, too stupid to win (or even properly lose), despite the lack of an opponent. Patches went on talking. The little blighter would have to speak sooner or later, she would make sure of it.
"This is a fine crew, you have here," she said appreciatively. "It's too bad about that romance rule, with all the delicious young men strutting about, huh?"
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"That Jamie fellow is absolutely adorable. Wouldn't have minded bunking next to him. Those huge blue eyes, and those full, pouty lips. He's a very good-looking young man."
She wondered if he knew what she was building up to.
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There was a solid thwuck as a knife slammed into the deck, sticking out of the wood in perilous proximity to PJ's crotch.
A slow smile spread over her features. "That's what I thought," she said softly. She knew the felinoid would hear, though she doubted anyone else's ears would be so sharp--it seemed most of them were down in the galley or roaming about the sand and woods nearby.
There was an exclamation of disbelief from nearby, and she looked up, her eyebrows raising. Someone was up here after all, though they looked too far away to have heard the exchange. They had certainly seen Shin-sin-fa's response, though.
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Of course, then Shin dropped the knife. He made the noise before he even though of it, eyes near boggling at the sight, and strode over on those long legs of his to the pair, looking at the knife and then up at Shin, quriking up a brow.
"Mister Shin-sin-fa," he said, voice like iced thunder, "If you cannot control your knives while you practice, then perhaps you should practice somewhere they cannot come to harm another crew member by your errant fingers. Please locate your toothbrush, then go below and find five of the dirtiest windows you can. I trust that you'll know what do do with them once you come across them. You might want to take a bucket."
He looked down at Patches, set his hand on the hilt of the blade, and drew it up from the deck. Tag set it in a breast pocket, for safe keeping, then held his hand out to her to help her up fom the deck. "Quite sorry about that, miss. He is usually incredibly careful."
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If he'd been suspicious before, it had morphed into active dislike. Speaking of morphs, hers was floating just ahead of him. Laughing, and holding the shape of a toothbrush. He considered using it instead of a real toothbrush, but it seemed to know better than to get close to those it mocked, and it stayed just out of reach.
He turned back for one last look, and shook his head. There weren't any dirty windows on the Etherium anyway. He and Jamie had gone through this just a few days ago for getting in another fake fight. It had been the first one since stupid Iden had come aboard, whom Shin-sin-fa hated just on principle. Jamie liked him more, the Felinese thought, and it bothered him immensely. That fight had been wonderfully fun, and it was worth every window they'd scrubbed.
Throwing a knife that didn't even hit the wench didn't give him the same satisfaction.
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"Are all of your crew so skilled? Looks to be more than one o' you that's been on the wrong end o' sharp things," she added. She actually hadn't noticed Tag's arm yet, nor seen even the tip of a scar.
She offered him the knife handle-first. "I don't think he'll take it back from me," she said cheerily.
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He regarded her critically, with a gaze that was not so much looking at her as through her, right down to her bones. If she picked a fight with Anthony there was a pretty good chance of a dead Gloor. He set his hand to his chin, the gloves pristine and white. "Tell Me, Miss...Patches, what sort of vessel were you on before? Was it a large ship, or small?"
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"And you?"
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He looked about himself, then at the deck, and decided that it was actually clean enough to sit upon. Chores, at least, had been kept up during this miniature vacation. For some reason, Jamie and Iden both rather liked mopping. Fates only knew where they'd gotten off to now. "And it's Heut is mein Tag, miss. Four words. If you must call me by my first name, Heut is fine during conversation.
"How was it that you came upon this rock? It does not seem to be all that nice of a vacation spot, though do pardon me if it was your ideal place, I mean no offense."
He wondered a bit where her Morph had gotten off to. That...that little creature made him just a bit nervous.
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"I have a hard time imagining a ship so dirty you couldn't see the deck--maybe I just take the cabin boys for granted. Was that The Etherium's cabin boy, what just 'dropped' his knife on the deck?" she asked idly.
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"I do believe that the ship was so dirty because the crew had no vested interest in keeping it clean. Rather surly lot, really, if I recall much about them besides the stench. As for Shin-sin-fa, no. He is not the cabin boy, he is actually a very able rigging master and general crewman. Our cabin boy is actually a somewhat secretive white haired boy who is difficult for most people to understand. Or pilot is the red haired man, Ignatious, and along with myself as first mate, the majority of us are regular crew most times, doing what is needed. Mr Truax is a scientist, hunting down a particularly elusive bit of forgotten lore."
"Truly madam, I do not believe that he wishes you harm. But have you given any thought as to where it is that you'd like to go from here? I'm sure you've thought of little else, but if you are like most beings I have met in my life, you don't really have a definite destination in mind."
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