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Dafni was in search of a ship. The Cyclone’s Song was its name and its captain famed, in quiet circles, to have valuable information. And Dafni was currently in the market for information. Really, she was always in the market for information, but her usual route was through the whispering of court not the disgusting streets of Vasiliadon. But to her every increasing woe this was the avenue of inquiry she needed to pursue. The people of court trusted her little with their secrets, to her great frustration, so she had decided to pursue other methods. Her father had created an extensive network of spies and informants to gain his goals, why could she not do the same?
With this steadying, if not naive thought, Dafni continued her trek through the streets. It had not been an easy thing to slip away from her guards and lady maid. She had needed to first get them all out into the city, construct a stressful event that resulted in the ruin of her outfit, and promptly retire to the highest end bathhouse money could buy. A private chamber of course. Once there she had told her maid to wait outside, saying the sight of the girl made her head ache. From there it had been a simple matter of sparing a few coin to one of the attendants to borrow some commoners clothes and the facade that she was still soaking away her troubles. Luckily, it was not uncommon for her to spend an inordinate amount of time in the various bath houses around the market that catered to clientele of her caliber. There was no doubt in Dafni’s mind that the ruse would hold.
She kept her head down as she traveled, acuity aware of the heightened security that was now in place because of the Egyptian threat and not wanting to draw either undue attention. It was unlikely for her to be recognized in such clothing and in these parts of the city, or regarded suspiciously since she was a born and bred Taengean with the right features and proper speech. But still she took no chances, her father would not be pleased if she was caught alone in the city without her entourage.
As she got closer and closer to her destination the rank stench of fouling fish and human filth permeated the air with increasing potency. She had to force herself not to gag. Why would people choose to live this way? The life choices these commoners made could boggle the mind at times. Since it was still midday the docks were a bustle of activity and the sheer crush of harried sweating people made Dafni curl her lips in contempt. Like little rats they scurried about their tasks, though, many of the men did sport impressive physiques that she could not help but stop and admire for the barest of moments.
“I am looking for the ship Cyclones Song. Do you happen to know where it is moored or when I may inquire upon its crew?” Dafni asked repeatedly of any she came across. Some brushed her off with a rudeness that made her want to stomp her foot and demand they help her, to scream her name at them and watch the fear gather in their eyes as they realized the catastrophic error they just made. But the more sensible part of her, the one that whispered in her mind with the censoring voice of her mother, bade her to exercise restraint. So she kept the transparent smile on her face and tried over and over until, after a number of hurried suggestions from various folk, she found her quarry. Walking right up to the first member of the crew she could find Dafni lifted her chin impertinently and demanded their obedience with but the tone of her words.
“You are of the Cyclones Song yes? I wish to speak to your Captain.” Dafni waited a moment for the man to move and follow her command, but he did not jump into action like she expected. “Now.” She snapped.
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Dafni was in search of a ship. The Cyclone’s Song was its name and its captain famed, in quiet circles, to have valuable information. And Dafni was currently in the market for information. Really, she was always in the market for information, but her usual route was through the whispering of court not the disgusting streets of Vasiliadon. But to her every increasing woe this was the avenue of inquiry she needed to pursue. The people of court trusted her little with their secrets, to her great frustration, so she had decided to pursue other methods. Her father had created an extensive network of spies and informants to gain his goals, why could she not do the same?
With this steadying, if not naive thought, Dafni continued her trek through the streets. It had not been an easy thing to slip away from her guards and lady maid. She had needed to first get them all out into the city, construct a stressful event that resulted in the ruin of her outfit, and promptly retire to the highest end bathhouse money could buy. A private chamber of course. Once there she had told her maid to wait outside, saying the sight of the girl made her head ache. From there it had been a simple matter of sparing a few coin to one of the attendants to borrow some commoners clothes and the facade that she was still soaking away her troubles. Luckily, it was not uncommon for her to spend an inordinate amount of time in the various bath houses around the market that catered to clientele of her caliber. There was no doubt in Dafni’s mind that the ruse would hold.
She kept her head down as she traveled, acuity aware of the heightened security that was now in place because of the Egyptian threat and not wanting to draw either undue attention. It was unlikely for her to be recognized in such clothing and in these parts of the city, or regarded suspiciously since she was a born and bred Taengean with the right features and proper speech. But still she took no chances, her father would not be pleased if she was caught alone in the city without her entourage.
As she got closer and closer to her destination the rank stench of fouling fish and human filth permeated the air with increasing potency. She had to force herself not to gag. Why would people choose to live this way? The life choices these commoners made could boggle the mind at times. Since it was still midday the docks were a bustle of activity and the sheer crush of harried sweating people made Dafni curl her lips in contempt. Like little rats they scurried about their tasks, though, many of the men did sport impressive physiques that she could not help but stop and admire for the barest of moments.
“I am looking for the ship Cyclones Song. Do you happen to know where it is moored or when I may inquire upon its crew?” Dafni asked repeatedly of any she came across. Some brushed her off with a rudeness that made her want to stomp her foot and demand they help her, to scream her name at them and watch the fear gather in their eyes as they realized the catastrophic error they just made. But the more sensible part of her, the one that whispered in her mind with the censoring voice of her mother, bade her to exercise restraint. So she kept the transparent smile on her face and tried over and over until, after a number of hurried suggestions from various folk, she found her quarry. Walking right up to the first member of the crew she could find Dafni lifted her chin impertinently and demanded their obedience with but the tone of her words.
“You are of the Cyclones Song yes? I wish to speak to your Captain.” Dafni waited a moment for the man to move and follow her command, but he did not jump into action like she expected. “Now.” She snapped.
Dafni was in search of a ship. The Cyclone’s Song was its name and its captain famed, in quiet circles, to have valuable information. And Dafni was currently in the market for information. Really, she was always in the market for information, but her usual route was through the whispering of court not the disgusting streets of Vasiliadon. But to her every increasing woe this was the avenue of inquiry she needed to pursue. The people of court trusted her little with their secrets, to her great frustration, so she had decided to pursue other methods. Her father had created an extensive network of spies and informants to gain his goals, why could she not do the same?
With this steadying, if not naive thought, Dafni continued her trek through the streets. It had not been an easy thing to slip away from her guards and lady maid. She had needed to first get them all out into the city, construct a stressful event that resulted in the ruin of her outfit, and promptly retire to the highest end bathhouse money could buy. A private chamber of course. Once there she had told her maid to wait outside, saying the sight of the girl made her head ache. From there it had been a simple matter of sparing a few coin to one of the attendants to borrow some commoners clothes and the facade that she was still soaking away her troubles. Luckily, it was not uncommon for her to spend an inordinate amount of time in the various bath houses around the market that catered to clientele of her caliber. There was no doubt in Dafni’s mind that the ruse would hold.
She kept her head down as she traveled, acuity aware of the heightened security that was now in place because of the Egyptian threat and not wanting to draw either undue attention. It was unlikely for her to be recognized in such clothing and in these parts of the city, or regarded suspiciously since she was a born and bred Taengean with the right features and proper speech. But still she took no chances, her father would not be pleased if she was caught alone in the city without her entourage.
As she got closer and closer to her destination the rank stench of fouling fish and human filth permeated the air with increasing potency. She had to force herself not to gag. Why would people choose to live this way? The life choices these commoners made could boggle the mind at times. Since it was still midday the docks were a bustle of activity and the sheer crush of harried sweating people made Dafni curl her lips in contempt. Like little rats they scurried about their tasks, though, many of the men did sport impressive physiques that she could not help but stop and admire for the barest of moments.
“I am looking for the ship Cyclones Song. Do you happen to know where it is moored or when I may inquire upon its crew?” Dafni asked repeatedly of any she came across. Some brushed her off with a rudeness that made her want to stomp her foot and demand they help her, to scream her name at them and watch the fear gather in their eyes as they realized the catastrophic error they just made. But the more sensible part of her, the one that whispered in her mind with the censoring voice of her mother, bade her to exercise restraint. So she kept the transparent smile on her face and tried over and over until, after a number of hurried suggestions from various folk, she found her quarry. Walking right up to the first member of the crew she could find Dafni lifted her chin impertinently and demanded their obedience with but the tone of her words.
“You are of the Cyclones Song yes? I wish to speak to your Captain.” Dafni waited a moment for the man to move and follow her command, but he did not jump into action like she expected. “Now.” She snapped.
This child was going to end up at the bottom of the ocean.
Akila was so often ignored. Despite being Egyptian, and being part of the only Egyptian crew currently docked in Vasiliadon, she was a woman and women might as well be invisible. The child had walked right past Akila and to another man of her crew demanding to see the captain. Little did the girl know she walked right up to Khalid, the man who had even less patience than Akila, and the man who so often posed as captain while Akila remained invisible and scoped out the situation.
But this situation wasn’t even worth scoping. The petulant girl was strolling right up to a crew of pirates and expecting this would go over well? The only thing she had on her side was daylight. But that hasn’t stopped the crew before. Akila’s eyes swept the girl. The clothes were that of a commoner, but her skin and hair were shiny and smooth. A lady’s maid? Akila would need to get a good look of her hands to confirm this, to see signs of any pricks from needles. But honestly, Akila didn’t much care. The way the girl talked, she’d find herself locked inside a slave’s cage and sent to Egypt to be someone’s pleasure whore.
Khalid stood at his full height. The dark man crossed his muscled, tattooed arms and glared down at the small girl with his black gaze. “Piss off.” He swore, his voice low and his lip curling up into a sneer. Khalid didn’t even reach for his spear, he didn’t have to. Akila witnessed him snapping people like twigs before, and the girl would be no different.
Honestly, it was likely the reaction Akila would have given as well. This was her crew. No one else could give orders to them or to her. But it was this brat’s lucky day. Akila was bored, and with the crew working ahead of schedule and looking to get the fuck out of Taengea a day early, Akila had time to play.
“Try again.” Akila had walked up behind the girl. The pirate was taller than the child, and a whole lot meaner. Words and tone might protect the girl in the day to day, but Akila had that and a khopesh capable of ripping your guts out. “Can I speak with your captain.”
Beauty was an asset and something perhaps rare for a pirate, another reason that Akila may go invisible. But once seen, Akila never gave the appearance that she was one to be messed with. A terrible scar marred her eyebrow, the story of its appearance changing each time she tells it. Her lips, too, were twisted in a sneer and eyes narrowed down at the girl. She had precious time to change her tone or the girl was going to have an unexpected swim in the ocean and dirty that pretty little head of hair. Or her parents would find her forever gone. Whichever Akila felt like doing at the time, she supposed.
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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This child was going to end up at the bottom of the ocean.
Akila was so often ignored. Despite being Egyptian, and being part of the only Egyptian crew currently docked in Vasiliadon, she was a woman and women might as well be invisible. The child had walked right past Akila and to another man of her crew demanding to see the captain. Little did the girl know she walked right up to Khalid, the man who had even less patience than Akila, and the man who so often posed as captain while Akila remained invisible and scoped out the situation.
But this situation wasn’t even worth scoping. The petulant girl was strolling right up to a crew of pirates and expecting this would go over well? The only thing she had on her side was daylight. But that hasn’t stopped the crew before. Akila’s eyes swept the girl. The clothes were that of a commoner, but her skin and hair were shiny and smooth. A lady’s maid? Akila would need to get a good look of her hands to confirm this, to see signs of any pricks from needles. But honestly, Akila didn’t much care. The way the girl talked, she’d find herself locked inside a slave’s cage and sent to Egypt to be someone’s pleasure whore.
Khalid stood at his full height. The dark man crossed his muscled, tattooed arms and glared down at the small girl with his black gaze. “Piss off.” He swore, his voice low and his lip curling up into a sneer. Khalid didn’t even reach for his spear, he didn’t have to. Akila witnessed him snapping people like twigs before, and the girl would be no different.
Honestly, it was likely the reaction Akila would have given as well. This was her crew. No one else could give orders to them or to her. But it was this brat’s lucky day. Akila was bored, and with the crew working ahead of schedule and looking to get the fuck out of Taengea a day early, Akila had time to play.
“Try again.” Akila had walked up behind the girl. The pirate was taller than the child, and a whole lot meaner. Words and tone might protect the girl in the day to day, but Akila had that and a khopesh capable of ripping your guts out. “Can I speak with your captain.”
Beauty was an asset and something perhaps rare for a pirate, another reason that Akila may go invisible. But once seen, Akila never gave the appearance that she was one to be messed with. A terrible scar marred her eyebrow, the story of its appearance changing each time she tells it. Her lips, too, were twisted in a sneer and eyes narrowed down at the girl. She had precious time to change her tone or the girl was going to have an unexpected swim in the ocean and dirty that pretty little head of hair. Or her parents would find her forever gone. Whichever Akila felt like doing at the time, she supposed.
This child was going to end up at the bottom of the ocean.
Akila was so often ignored. Despite being Egyptian, and being part of the only Egyptian crew currently docked in Vasiliadon, she was a woman and women might as well be invisible. The child had walked right past Akila and to another man of her crew demanding to see the captain. Little did the girl know she walked right up to Khalid, the man who had even less patience than Akila, and the man who so often posed as captain while Akila remained invisible and scoped out the situation.
But this situation wasn’t even worth scoping. The petulant girl was strolling right up to a crew of pirates and expecting this would go over well? The only thing she had on her side was daylight. But that hasn’t stopped the crew before. Akila’s eyes swept the girl. The clothes were that of a commoner, but her skin and hair were shiny and smooth. A lady’s maid? Akila would need to get a good look of her hands to confirm this, to see signs of any pricks from needles. But honestly, Akila didn’t much care. The way the girl talked, she’d find herself locked inside a slave’s cage and sent to Egypt to be someone’s pleasure whore.
Khalid stood at his full height. The dark man crossed his muscled, tattooed arms and glared down at the small girl with his black gaze. “Piss off.” He swore, his voice low and his lip curling up into a sneer. Khalid didn’t even reach for his spear, he didn’t have to. Akila witnessed him snapping people like twigs before, and the girl would be no different.
Honestly, it was likely the reaction Akila would have given as well. This was her crew. No one else could give orders to them or to her. But it was this brat’s lucky day. Akila was bored, and with the crew working ahead of schedule and looking to get the fuck out of Taengea a day early, Akila had time to play.
“Try again.” Akila had walked up behind the girl. The pirate was taller than the child, and a whole lot meaner. Words and tone might protect the girl in the day to day, but Akila had that and a khopesh capable of ripping your guts out. “Can I speak with your captain.”
Beauty was an asset and something perhaps rare for a pirate, another reason that Akila may go invisible. But once seen, Akila never gave the appearance that she was one to be messed with. A terrible scar marred her eyebrow, the story of its appearance changing each time she tells it. Her lips, too, were twisted in a sneer and eyes narrowed down at the girl. She had precious time to change her tone or the girl was going to have an unexpected swim in the ocean and dirty that pretty little head of hair. Or her parents would find her forever gone. Whichever Akila felt like doing at the time, she supposed.
Indignation colored Dafni’s pale cheeks a pretty shade of crimson as a woman, taller and meaner looking than herself, came up behind her and scolded her. Who did she think she was! Obviously an uppity whore for the crew is who, and an Egyptian one at that; what was she even doing in Taengean at a time of tension such as this? Tilting her head minutely Dafni peered over her shoulder at the woman with half lidded eyes before putting her nose in the air and turning back to the man before her. It was a dismissal if ever she’d delivered one.
The man was large, much larger than she had expected from farther away, with beautiful if not sun marked skin illustrated with an incredible collection of tattoos. He was exotic and enticing in a brutish way that Dafni never thought herself attracted to before now. She had always thought herself to be one enamored with the slimmer aristocratic men like her father. Not weak, but not big and overbearing with muscles bigger than her head. Yet here she was, admiring a man even as he told her oh so elegantly to ‘piss off’ even before the other woman had shown up.
She seethed, green fire flaring in her irises as she stared at the offender. It had been a simple question yet this [i[commoner[/i] this pirate endeavored to deny her? Folding her hands behind her back Dafni clenched them together until the blood was banished from the area and only stark white flesh remained. She stayed silent a moment, just letting her fingers feel each other. The small calluses and faint scars grounding her even as her anger and indignation threatened to throw her into a childish rage. They were an odd roughness to find on the hands of a girl with her standing, but perhaps not so much in the Leventi house. She moisturized them almost obsessively but no matter how much and how often Dafni applied lotions, hardened skin always remained. She would have to give up equestrian all together if she wished to be rid of them permanently, but that was simply not something she was willing to do.
Setting her shoulders, Dafni pulled at her lips up until a grimace of gritted teeth played across her face, the failed attempt at a congenial gesture intended to be a smile. She focused the expression on the handsome and ill-mannered crew member, having completely forgotten about the woman at this point since she was of little consequence.
“I said.” Dafni intoned blandly and with a forced lack of inflection, as if talking to a child that could not grasp the simple concepts its tutor tried to teach. “That I wish to speak to your caption.” She snidely waited a moment to see if he would comprehend. “It is a business matter.” And in Dafni’s mind it was. But what did this little rich girl know of business?
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Indignation colored Dafni’s pale cheeks a pretty shade of crimson as a woman, taller and meaner looking than herself, came up behind her and scolded her. Who did she think she was! Obviously an uppity whore for the crew is who, and an Egyptian one at that; what was she even doing in Taengean at a time of tension such as this? Tilting her head minutely Dafni peered over her shoulder at the woman with half lidded eyes before putting her nose in the air and turning back to the man before her. It was a dismissal if ever she’d delivered one.
The man was large, much larger than she had expected from farther away, with beautiful if not sun marked skin illustrated with an incredible collection of tattoos. He was exotic and enticing in a brutish way that Dafni never thought herself attracted to before now. She had always thought herself to be one enamored with the slimmer aristocratic men like her father. Not weak, but not big and overbearing with muscles bigger than her head. Yet here she was, admiring a man even as he told her oh so elegantly to ‘piss off’ even before the other woman had shown up.
She seethed, green fire flaring in her irises as she stared at the offender. It had been a simple question yet this [i[commoner[/i] this pirate endeavored to deny her? Folding her hands behind her back Dafni clenched them together until the blood was banished from the area and only stark white flesh remained. She stayed silent a moment, just letting her fingers feel each other. The small calluses and faint scars grounding her even as her anger and indignation threatened to throw her into a childish rage. They were an odd roughness to find on the hands of a girl with her standing, but perhaps not so much in the Leventi house. She moisturized them almost obsessively but no matter how much and how often Dafni applied lotions, hardened skin always remained. She would have to give up equestrian all together if she wished to be rid of them permanently, but that was simply not something she was willing to do.
Setting her shoulders, Dafni pulled at her lips up until a grimace of gritted teeth played across her face, the failed attempt at a congenial gesture intended to be a smile. She focused the expression on the handsome and ill-mannered crew member, having completely forgotten about the woman at this point since she was of little consequence.
“I said.” Dafni intoned blandly and with a forced lack of inflection, as if talking to a child that could not grasp the simple concepts its tutor tried to teach. “That I wish to speak to your caption.” She snidely waited a moment to see if he would comprehend. “It is a business matter.” And in Dafni’s mind it was. But what did this little rich girl know of business?
Indignation colored Dafni’s pale cheeks a pretty shade of crimson as a woman, taller and meaner looking than herself, came up behind her and scolded her. Who did she think she was! Obviously an uppity whore for the crew is who, and an Egyptian one at that; what was she even doing in Taengean at a time of tension such as this? Tilting her head minutely Dafni peered over her shoulder at the woman with half lidded eyes before putting her nose in the air and turning back to the man before her. It was a dismissal if ever she’d delivered one.
The man was large, much larger than she had expected from farther away, with beautiful if not sun marked skin illustrated with an incredible collection of tattoos. He was exotic and enticing in a brutish way that Dafni never thought herself attracted to before now. She had always thought herself to be one enamored with the slimmer aristocratic men like her father. Not weak, but not big and overbearing with muscles bigger than her head. Yet here she was, admiring a man even as he told her oh so elegantly to ‘piss off’ even before the other woman had shown up.
She seethed, green fire flaring in her irises as she stared at the offender. It had been a simple question yet this [i[commoner[/i] this pirate endeavored to deny her? Folding her hands behind her back Dafni clenched them together until the blood was banished from the area and only stark white flesh remained. She stayed silent a moment, just letting her fingers feel each other. The small calluses and faint scars grounding her even as her anger and indignation threatened to throw her into a childish rage. They were an odd roughness to find on the hands of a girl with her standing, but perhaps not so much in the Leventi house. She moisturized them almost obsessively but no matter how much and how often Dafni applied lotions, hardened skin always remained. She would have to give up equestrian all together if she wished to be rid of them permanently, but that was simply not something she was willing to do.
Setting her shoulders, Dafni pulled at her lips up until a grimace of gritted teeth played across her face, the failed attempt at a congenial gesture intended to be a smile. She focused the expression on the handsome and ill-mannered crew member, having completely forgotten about the woman at this point since she was of little consequence.
“I said.” Dafni intoned blandly and with a forced lack of inflection, as if talking to a child that could not grasp the simple concepts its tutor tried to teach. “That I wish to speak to your caption.” She snidely waited a moment to see if he would comprehend. “It is a business matter.” And in Dafni’s mind it was. But what did this little rich girl know of business?
This girl was going to end up in the ocean screaming her little stupid head off about insolence or what have you. Seaweed would get stuck in her stupid hair, fish sliming up her chiton, and Akila would not give one flying shit about it. The girl was a brat. Every time she opened her mouth, Akila wanted to snatch her wagging tongue and cut it with her knife. Her words were a nuisance and her presence was just pissing the pirate off.
It’s a matter of business. What business? What did this girl know about business? First, Akila’s contacts knew not to talk to her in this manner if they ever wanted to talk again. Which true, she had a few try to steal from her, lie to her, and cheat her from money. But they learned very quickly that she wasn’t the person to do that to. Most, however, fell in line. As they should.
But even the idiots who tried to steal from a thief didn’t try bossing around her crew. They may be haughty and say what they were going to do with the assumption that they would do nothing about it. And again, they learned that lesson. And if this girl kept wagging her tongue, she’d learn it too with a quick dip in the ocean and a boat of men laughing at her. And that was Akila being kind.
She rolled her eyes. It was evident that Khalid was also losing his patience. His face got up nice and close to the girl, “Captain ain’t got business with you, girl. Piss. Off. ” And it was true. Akila did not have business with the girl. A girl who would likely bring her nothing of any interest.
Akila moved now to lean against a crate. She started picking at her nail, mostly bored by this exchange. Just run off crying to her daddy. Leave the pirates alone. They had work to do. “I said try again, Princess.” Akila said, not even glancing at the girl as she continued to pick. “Daddy’s not here. Can’t just stomp your feet to get what you want. That’s not how business works.”
Though Akila was curious, at least, as to why an idiot girl would be wanting a captain that she didn’t even recognize. To go to an Egyptian ship in a Greek Harbor was also another very interesting choice. Akila’s crew was of all shapes and sizes but they all came from the same scorching sands. Sea rats, sand rats, Akila heard it all. But to have a Greek child march up to the Egyptian boat was something clearly Akila didn’t expect. And perhaps that was why she was sticking around, listening in on a conversation she would otherwise let Khalid handle by chasing off the pest and allowing the men to return to their work.
Though how much longer I let the girl talk, Akila thought to herself, we shall see…
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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This girl was going to end up in the ocean screaming her little stupid head off about insolence or what have you. Seaweed would get stuck in her stupid hair, fish sliming up her chiton, and Akila would not give one flying shit about it. The girl was a brat. Every time she opened her mouth, Akila wanted to snatch her wagging tongue and cut it with her knife. Her words were a nuisance and her presence was just pissing the pirate off.
It’s a matter of business. What business? What did this girl know about business? First, Akila’s contacts knew not to talk to her in this manner if they ever wanted to talk again. Which true, she had a few try to steal from her, lie to her, and cheat her from money. But they learned very quickly that she wasn’t the person to do that to. Most, however, fell in line. As they should.
But even the idiots who tried to steal from a thief didn’t try bossing around her crew. They may be haughty and say what they were going to do with the assumption that they would do nothing about it. And again, they learned that lesson. And if this girl kept wagging her tongue, she’d learn it too with a quick dip in the ocean and a boat of men laughing at her. And that was Akila being kind.
She rolled her eyes. It was evident that Khalid was also losing his patience. His face got up nice and close to the girl, “Captain ain’t got business with you, girl. Piss. Off. ” And it was true. Akila did not have business with the girl. A girl who would likely bring her nothing of any interest.
Akila moved now to lean against a crate. She started picking at her nail, mostly bored by this exchange. Just run off crying to her daddy. Leave the pirates alone. They had work to do. “I said try again, Princess.” Akila said, not even glancing at the girl as she continued to pick. “Daddy’s not here. Can’t just stomp your feet to get what you want. That’s not how business works.”
Though Akila was curious, at least, as to why an idiot girl would be wanting a captain that she didn’t even recognize. To go to an Egyptian ship in a Greek Harbor was also another very interesting choice. Akila’s crew was of all shapes and sizes but they all came from the same scorching sands. Sea rats, sand rats, Akila heard it all. But to have a Greek child march up to the Egyptian boat was something clearly Akila didn’t expect. And perhaps that was why she was sticking around, listening in on a conversation she would otherwise let Khalid handle by chasing off the pest and allowing the men to return to their work.
Though how much longer I let the girl talk, Akila thought to herself, we shall see…
This girl was going to end up in the ocean screaming her little stupid head off about insolence or what have you. Seaweed would get stuck in her stupid hair, fish sliming up her chiton, and Akila would not give one flying shit about it. The girl was a brat. Every time she opened her mouth, Akila wanted to snatch her wagging tongue and cut it with her knife. Her words were a nuisance and her presence was just pissing the pirate off.
It’s a matter of business. What business? What did this girl know about business? First, Akila’s contacts knew not to talk to her in this manner if they ever wanted to talk again. Which true, she had a few try to steal from her, lie to her, and cheat her from money. But they learned very quickly that she wasn’t the person to do that to. Most, however, fell in line. As they should.
But even the idiots who tried to steal from a thief didn’t try bossing around her crew. They may be haughty and say what they were going to do with the assumption that they would do nothing about it. And again, they learned that lesson. And if this girl kept wagging her tongue, she’d learn it too with a quick dip in the ocean and a boat of men laughing at her. And that was Akila being kind.
She rolled her eyes. It was evident that Khalid was also losing his patience. His face got up nice and close to the girl, “Captain ain’t got business with you, girl. Piss. Off. ” And it was true. Akila did not have business with the girl. A girl who would likely bring her nothing of any interest.
Akila moved now to lean against a crate. She started picking at her nail, mostly bored by this exchange. Just run off crying to her daddy. Leave the pirates alone. They had work to do. “I said try again, Princess.” Akila said, not even glancing at the girl as she continued to pick. “Daddy’s not here. Can’t just stomp your feet to get what you want. That’s not how business works.”
Though Akila was curious, at least, as to why an idiot girl would be wanting a captain that she didn’t even recognize. To go to an Egyptian ship in a Greek Harbor was also another very interesting choice. Akila’s crew was of all shapes and sizes but they all came from the same scorching sands. Sea rats, sand rats, Akila heard it all. But to have a Greek child march up to the Egyptian boat was something clearly Akila didn’t expect. And perhaps that was why she was sticking around, listening in on a conversation she would otherwise let Khalid handle by chasing off the pest and allowing the men to return to their work.
Though how much longer I let the girl talk, Akila thought to herself, we shall see…
Apparently the woman was tolerated to a great degree by the crew. Not only did none of them tell her to mind herself but in fact, Dafni thought she saw a few look at her with something akin to respect. They did this even as the woman was making a nuisance of herself by getting involved in the conversation. Such an odd culture these sailors possessed to act thusly. All the woman was doing was nagging Dafni about her tone. What did her tone have to do with anything! She was here to give these scoundrels some coin and get some information. It was not all that gods damned complicated.
Huffing as she was insulted once again by the large muscular man Dafni squeezed her hands together even tighter. At this rate the blood would never flow back into her abused appendages. They kept telling Dafni to leave, these pirates. They insulting and demeaning her when all she asked was to see the captain and pay for his services. Did these fools not desire to make money?
It seemed her approach was not working. Of course, in Dafni’s mind, the way she had thus far acted was totally civil and fitting with proper decorum. She had not raised her voice nor articulated threats or slurs against the dark skinned crew like many Grecian's might have. In fact, she was being rather proper, if she did say so herself. But they seemed to desire something more. Some further… respect if the woman’s words were to be believed.
Dafni was loath to even think of heeding the woman's snide suggestions but there may be little other choice if she wanted this outing to be a successful one. It pained the pampered girl greatly, but she considered doing as the woman hinted. If she showed them a greater courtesy maybe they could be persuaded to hear her out.
A nervous smile now graced Dafni’s delicate features. The doll like girl an incredibly slight figure against the mountainous and sinuous wall of muscle the surrounding pirates created. She was nearly sweating with the heat of the sun and nerves that started to infiltrate her cool facade. She could feel every tendril of hair that stuck to the back of her neck. The wetness of her barely perceivable perspiration going unseen on the luscious strands because of their dark rich shade of them. She was tempted to run her hands through the softness of her locks, fastened back with two little braids that met at the back of her cranium and threaded together into a short french braid so that most of her hair hung loose and pretty down her back. However, to touch her hair would be a sign of nervousness. A tidbit of knowledge her mother had smacked into her a few times as a child, and that her father would be disappointed to see. Not to mention, she could very very well mess up the carefully simple hairstyle and it would not do to look disheveled in public no matter the fact that she was pretending to be common.
“Please, good sir, I would just like a word with the captain.” Dafni intoned with a gracious little head bow. The mental effort of executing such a gesture to the lowlifes before her near agonizing.
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Apparently the woman was tolerated to a great degree by the crew. Not only did none of them tell her to mind herself but in fact, Dafni thought she saw a few look at her with something akin to respect. They did this even as the woman was making a nuisance of herself by getting involved in the conversation. Such an odd culture these sailors possessed to act thusly. All the woman was doing was nagging Dafni about her tone. What did her tone have to do with anything! She was here to give these scoundrels some coin and get some information. It was not all that gods damned complicated.
Huffing as she was insulted once again by the large muscular man Dafni squeezed her hands together even tighter. At this rate the blood would never flow back into her abused appendages. They kept telling Dafni to leave, these pirates. They insulting and demeaning her when all she asked was to see the captain and pay for his services. Did these fools not desire to make money?
It seemed her approach was not working. Of course, in Dafni’s mind, the way she had thus far acted was totally civil and fitting with proper decorum. She had not raised her voice nor articulated threats or slurs against the dark skinned crew like many Grecian's might have. In fact, she was being rather proper, if she did say so herself. But they seemed to desire something more. Some further… respect if the woman’s words were to be believed.
Dafni was loath to even think of heeding the woman's snide suggestions but there may be little other choice if she wanted this outing to be a successful one. It pained the pampered girl greatly, but she considered doing as the woman hinted. If she showed them a greater courtesy maybe they could be persuaded to hear her out.
A nervous smile now graced Dafni’s delicate features. The doll like girl an incredibly slight figure against the mountainous and sinuous wall of muscle the surrounding pirates created. She was nearly sweating with the heat of the sun and nerves that started to infiltrate her cool facade. She could feel every tendril of hair that stuck to the back of her neck. The wetness of her barely perceivable perspiration going unseen on the luscious strands because of their dark rich shade of them. She was tempted to run her hands through the softness of her locks, fastened back with two little braids that met at the back of her cranium and threaded together into a short french braid so that most of her hair hung loose and pretty down her back. However, to touch her hair would be a sign of nervousness. A tidbit of knowledge her mother had smacked into her a few times as a child, and that her father would be disappointed to see. Not to mention, she could very very well mess up the carefully simple hairstyle and it would not do to look disheveled in public no matter the fact that she was pretending to be common.
“Please, good sir, I would just like a word with the captain.” Dafni intoned with a gracious little head bow. The mental effort of executing such a gesture to the lowlifes before her near agonizing.
Apparently the woman was tolerated to a great degree by the crew. Not only did none of them tell her to mind herself but in fact, Dafni thought she saw a few look at her with something akin to respect. They did this even as the woman was making a nuisance of herself by getting involved in the conversation. Such an odd culture these sailors possessed to act thusly. All the woman was doing was nagging Dafni about her tone. What did her tone have to do with anything! She was here to give these scoundrels some coin and get some information. It was not all that gods damned complicated.
Huffing as she was insulted once again by the large muscular man Dafni squeezed her hands together even tighter. At this rate the blood would never flow back into her abused appendages. They kept telling Dafni to leave, these pirates. They insulting and demeaning her when all she asked was to see the captain and pay for his services. Did these fools not desire to make money?
It seemed her approach was not working. Of course, in Dafni’s mind, the way she had thus far acted was totally civil and fitting with proper decorum. She had not raised her voice nor articulated threats or slurs against the dark skinned crew like many Grecian's might have. In fact, she was being rather proper, if she did say so herself. But they seemed to desire something more. Some further… respect if the woman’s words were to be believed.
Dafni was loath to even think of heeding the woman's snide suggestions but there may be little other choice if she wanted this outing to be a successful one. It pained the pampered girl greatly, but she considered doing as the woman hinted. If she showed them a greater courtesy maybe they could be persuaded to hear her out.
A nervous smile now graced Dafni’s delicate features. The doll like girl an incredibly slight figure against the mountainous and sinuous wall of muscle the surrounding pirates created. She was nearly sweating with the heat of the sun and nerves that started to infiltrate her cool facade. She could feel every tendril of hair that stuck to the back of her neck. The wetness of her barely perceivable perspiration going unseen on the luscious strands because of their dark rich shade of them. She was tempted to run her hands through the softness of her locks, fastened back with two little braids that met at the back of her cranium and threaded together into a short french braid so that most of her hair hung loose and pretty down her back. However, to touch her hair would be a sign of nervousness. A tidbit of knowledge her mother had smacked into her a few times as a child, and that her father would be disappointed to see. Not to mention, she could very very well mess up the carefully simple hairstyle and it would not do to look disheveled in public no matter the fact that she was pretending to be common.
“Please, good sir, I would just like a word with the captain.” Dafni intoned with a gracious little head bow. The mental effort of executing such a gesture to the lowlifes before her near agonizing.
Akila could see it. The girl was starting to get nervous. To be fair, she didn’t much blame her. No one wanted to be the one to annoy Khalid. The man had two modes: Mean and meaner. It was what made him an excellent first mate. Nothing got past him and no one dared bother him. That was useful to Akila. Why fight harder when she could fight smarter, and Khalid allowed her to do just that. (Plus he was a serious piece of eye candy, but that was neither here nor there.)
Please, good sir. I would just like a word with the captain.
Akila might have laughed. She wondered if the girl had ever been this polite. Her mommy and daddy clearly didn’t raise her that way. Not that Akila, herself, was ever that polite. Fuck manners. But don’t boss her crew around. Plain and fucking simple.
And it seemed Khalid’s thoughts mirrored Akila’s for his gaze finally left the child and lifted to meet Akila’s. How satisfied he also must be to see the quick turn around from the girl. It was so nice just to watch people squirm from time to time. She tilted her chin back towards the ship and he smirked before leaving her. Akila kicked off the crate she was leaning on and replaced his original position.
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it, Princess?” Akila finally asked, lifting a scarred brow at the stranger. Akila was used to being ignored as captain. She was a woman, and no one expected that. To be fair, no one expected a woman to be a sailor either. That was, as well, something incredibly useful at times. Khalid would sometimes play captain while Akila sat back and listened, evaluating the situation before deciding whether to step in or allowing Khalid to continue. But at this current moment, there was no reason to start this charade. In part it was to shove it in the insolent child’s face for ignoring Akila previously, disregarding her like some annoyance. But also because having Khalid speak now would be more of a liability than anything. His patience had run out with her, and who knows. Maybe she did have valuable business after all.
Or this was a complete waste of time and Akila would be more annoyed she hadn’t thrown her in the ocean sooner.
The pirate captain looked down at her with crossed arms. Her face clearly showed her impatience. There was no reason to mask it either, nor would Akila try to even if there was. She was blunt, only masking her words when she pulled some sort of facade meant to manipulate others. And with this brat, there was no need to hide shit.
“Now what is it that you want with me? Business? Usually, people who want a business deal know who they’re looking for.” Akila snorted amused. “Or at least don’t come barging in here ordering my crew around. Now speak, quickly. You tried my patience enough today.”
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Akila could see it. The girl was starting to get nervous. To be fair, she didn’t much blame her. No one wanted to be the one to annoy Khalid. The man had two modes: Mean and meaner. It was what made him an excellent first mate. Nothing got past him and no one dared bother him. That was useful to Akila. Why fight harder when she could fight smarter, and Khalid allowed her to do just that. (Plus he was a serious piece of eye candy, but that was neither here nor there.)
Please, good sir. I would just like a word with the captain.
Akila might have laughed. She wondered if the girl had ever been this polite. Her mommy and daddy clearly didn’t raise her that way. Not that Akila, herself, was ever that polite. Fuck manners. But don’t boss her crew around. Plain and fucking simple.
And it seemed Khalid’s thoughts mirrored Akila’s for his gaze finally left the child and lifted to meet Akila’s. How satisfied he also must be to see the quick turn around from the girl. It was so nice just to watch people squirm from time to time. She tilted her chin back towards the ship and he smirked before leaving her. Akila kicked off the crate she was leaning on and replaced his original position.
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it, Princess?” Akila finally asked, lifting a scarred brow at the stranger. Akila was used to being ignored as captain. She was a woman, and no one expected that. To be fair, no one expected a woman to be a sailor either. That was, as well, something incredibly useful at times. Khalid would sometimes play captain while Akila sat back and listened, evaluating the situation before deciding whether to step in or allowing Khalid to continue. But at this current moment, there was no reason to start this charade. In part it was to shove it in the insolent child’s face for ignoring Akila previously, disregarding her like some annoyance. But also because having Khalid speak now would be more of a liability than anything. His patience had run out with her, and who knows. Maybe she did have valuable business after all.
Or this was a complete waste of time and Akila would be more annoyed she hadn’t thrown her in the ocean sooner.
The pirate captain looked down at her with crossed arms. Her face clearly showed her impatience. There was no reason to mask it either, nor would Akila try to even if there was. She was blunt, only masking her words when she pulled some sort of facade meant to manipulate others. And with this brat, there was no need to hide shit.
“Now what is it that you want with me? Business? Usually, people who want a business deal know who they’re looking for.” Akila snorted amused. “Or at least don’t come barging in here ordering my crew around. Now speak, quickly. You tried my patience enough today.”
Akila could see it. The girl was starting to get nervous. To be fair, she didn’t much blame her. No one wanted to be the one to annoy Khalid. The man had two modes: Mean and meaner. It was what made him an excellent first mate. Nothing got past him and no one dared bother him. That was useful to Akila. Why fight harder when she could fight smarter, and Khalid allowed her to do just that. (Plus he was a serious piece of eye candy, but that was neither here nor there.)
Please, good sir. I would just like a word with the captain.
Akila might have laughed. She wondered if the girl had ever been this polite. Her mommy and daddy clearly didn’t raise her that way. Not that Akila, herself, was ever that polite. Fuck manners. But don’t boss her crew around. Plain and fucking simple.
And it seemed Khalid’s thoughts mirrored Akila’s for his gaze finally left the child and lifted to meet Akila’s. How satisfied he also must be to see the quick turn around from the girl. It was so nice just to watch people squirm from time to time. She tilted her chin back towards the ship and he smirked before leaving her. Akila kicked off the crate she was leaning on and replaced his original position.
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it, Princess?” Akila finally asked, lifting a scarred brow at the stranger. Akila was used to being ignored as captain. She was a woman, and no one expected that. To be fair, no one expected a woman to be a sailor either. That was, as well, something incredibly useful at times. Khalid would sometimes play captain while Akila sat back and listened, evaluating the situation before deciding whether to step in or allowing Khalid to continue. But at this current moment, there was no reason to start this charade. In part it was to shove it in the insolent child’s face for ignoring Akila previously, disregarding her like some annoyance. But also because having Khalid speak now would be more of a liability than anything. His patience had run out with her, and who knows. Maybe she did have valuable business after all.
Or this was a complete waste of time and Akila would be more annoyed she hadn’t thrown her in the ocean sooner.
The pirate captain looked down at her with crossed arms. Her face clearly showed her impatience. There was no reason to mask it either, nor would Akila try to even if there was. She was blunt, only masking her words when she pulled some sort of facade meant to manipulate others. And with this brat, there was no need to hide shit.
“Now what is it that you want with me? Business? Usually, people who want a business deal know who they’re looking for.” Akila snorted amused. “Or at least don’t come barging in here ordering my crew around. Now speak, quickly. You tried my patience enough today.”
Astonishment. Pure undiluted and staggering astonishment. It took Dafni over like fear did a timid colt when first exposed to a loud sound. And just like the horses she spent so much time around the young girl balked and froze for just a second before rearing back as if slapped. If she had been equine in nature she may have even struck at the air and tossed her head, trusting her hard hooves to vanquish the threat. However, no threat was upon her. The fear she felt was more a mixture of confused bewilderment with a frigid thread of unease woven in for good measure.
When the large attractive tattoo canvas before her had looked over her head and departed a moment later Dafni had turned expecting to see the captain, her nervous tilting of lips morphing onto one that more nearly imitated serenity as she prepared to finally talk to the man in charge. And it was the captain. Just not the captain she was expecting. It was no man that approached, large and intimidating with command and cunning emanating from him, but rather the wench from before.
The wench, a woman... with but some non-verbal cue she had sent the muscled giant Dafni had been conversing with on his way. There was no resentment in his gaze as he heeded her command. No irritation or rebellion at taking orders from a woman. Rather an easy respect and obedience was present in those dark irises of his.
Dafni’s mouth gaped. Like a fish she stared up at the slightly taller silhouette that moved to stand in the man’s place. Exotically stunning and with a deadly grace about her, this woman, this captain stood relaxed before her.
“Y-ou b-but how I-I y-y-you…” Dafni stuttered and stumbled over her words like a newborn foal over its legs. But just as the foal would not take long to find its legs she found her words within mere moments. Whether they were the proper response to such a situation was yet to be seen but they were the only syllables that would travel the pathways between her brain and mouth, and she had little control over them.
“How is that possible.” Dafni whispered with a low intimacy often reserved for the dire occasions of important gossip. “You're a, well a-a woman. How in the gods do you sail the seas like man, how are you, a woman, in command of men…” She continued with complete and honest befuddlement. If one listened very closely, past the blatant shock and apparent flipping of Dafni’s world; they may hear something else. Twisted deep, and hidden masked within the young noble's tone and expression, was the slightest whisper of jealousy. She was not only expressing shock, but awe. It could be seen in the barest speculative twinkle in Dafni’s bewitching green eyes. In the near negligible catch of her breath and lowered pitch of her tone.
To the average observer these responses could be easily confused with simple confusion or even scandal. But the almost reverent pause of Dafni’s syllables, and the quick but patchwork connection of her sentences was a dead give away. The way she looked not in the eyes of the person she conversed with but to up and to the right as her imagination dissected and played fanciful options in her mind's eye.
To Dafni this was, nay this was unheard of really. In her world men had all the power and women such as this captain that was before her were relegated to rumor and ancient stories. Women were here to marry and further the house's name, money, assets, and connection. To put it crassly, they were the breeding stock of the noble houses much as the stud mares and stallions were for the Leventi herd. But that's how things were supposed to be. It was safer this way and it was what Dafni wanted more than anything else.
She wanted to meet a man, fall in love, and live the rest of her life spending his money for her pleasure and basking in his undying adoration. To pop out heirs and make him happy.
But with nothing other than her words this female pirate ship captain, this successful sailor woman, was broadening Dafni’s view of the small cloistered little world she lived in. The implications were intriguing. For a moment Dafni’s eyes unfocused and stared into nothing, her mind running away from her. With a suddenness not even Dafni was expecting, she snapped her head forward to focus on her objecting once more; the reverie over as quickly as it had begun. Once more she stared at the captain. “Captain.” Dafni murmured. Her tongue clumsy with her insecurity over the interaction. Even as she addressed the woman doubts started to batter at her consciousness whispering that this was all a joke. The other sailors had seemed fine with ridiculing her, this could just be a prank they played on the unsuspecting and foolish. Could a female really garner this brand of respect in such a hard profession? Dafni narrowed her eyes. “I came to trade information for coin. I desire to hear the secrets and rumors that your ears have picked up, since mine do not have access to the places yours do. I have been told that the captain of the Cyclones Song often trades in such things, is there any truth to these whispers?”
The young girl did not even pause in her contemplation to be embarrassed about her attitude towards the captain when she had thought her nothing but a ship whore. It was unclear if Dafni had simply forgotten; the interaction so unimportant in her vapid mind that it did not necessitate any space in her memories. Or maybe Dafni did not even realize what she had said and done before was insulting, and that now, it could cause issues for the completion of her objectives. Perhaps a combination of the two.
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Astonishment. Pure undiluted and staggering astonishment. It took Dafni over like fear did a timid colt when first exposed to a loud sound. And just like the horses she spent so much time around the young girl balked and froze for just a second before rearing back as if slapped. If she had been equine in nature she may have even struck at the air and tossed her head, trusting her hard hooves to vanquish the threat. However, no threat was upon her. The fear she felt was more a mixture of confused bewilderment with a frigid thread of unease woven in for good measure.
When the large attractive tattoo canvas before her had looked over her head and departed a moment later Dafni had turned expecting to see the captain, her nervous tilting of lips morphing onto one that more nearly imitated serenity as she prepared to finally talk to the man in charge. And it was the captain. Just not the captain she was expecting. It was no man that approached, large and intimidating with command and cunning emanating from him, but rather the wench from before.
The wench, a woman... with but some non-verbal cue she had sent the muscled giant Dafni had been conversing with on his way. There was no resentment in his gaze as he heeded her command. No irritation or rebellion at taking orders from a woman. Rather an easy respect and obedience was present in those dark irises of his.
Dafni’s mouth gaped. Like a fish she stared up at the slightly taller silhouette that moved to stand in the man’s place. Exotically stunning and with a deadly grace about her, this woman, this captain stood relaxed before her.
“Y-ou b-but how I-I y-y-you…” Dafni stuttered and stumbled over her words like a newborn foal over its legs. But just as the foal would not take long to find its legs she found her words within mere moments. Whether they were the proper response to such a situation was yet to be seen but they were the only syllables that would travel the pathways between her brain and mouth, and she had little control over them.
“How is that possible.” Dafni whispered with a low intimacy often reserved for the dire occasions of important gossip. “You're a, well a-a woman. How in the gods do you sail the seas like man, how are you, a woman, in command of men…” She continued with complete and honest befuddlement. If one listened very closely, past the blatant shock and apparent flipping of Dafni’s world; they may hear something else. Twisted deep, and hidden masked within the young noble's tone and expression, was the slightest whisper of jealousy. She was not only expressing shock, but awe. It could be seen in the barest speculative twinkle in Dafni’s bewitching green eyes. In the near negligible catch of her breath and lowered pitch of her tone.
To the average observer these responses could be easily confused with simple confusion or even scandal. But the almost reverent pause of Dafni’s syllables, and the quick but patchwork connection of her sentences was a dead give away. The way she looked not in the eyes of the person she conversed with but to up and to the right as her imagination dissected and played fanciful options in her mind's eye.
To Dafni this was, nay this was unheard of really. In her world men had all the power and women such as this captain that was before her were relegated to rumor and ancient stories. Women were here to marry and further the house's name, money, assets, and connection. To put it crassly, they were the breeding stock of the noble houses much as the stud mares and stallions were for the Leventi herd. But that's how things were supposed to be. It was safer this way and it was what Dafni wanted more than anything else.
She wanted to meet a man, fall in love, and live the rest of her life spending his money for her pleasure and basking in his undying adoration. To pop out heirs and make him happy.
But with nothing other than her words this female pirate ship captain, this successful sailor woman, was broadening Dafni’s view of the small cloistered little world she lived in. The implications were intriguing. For a moment Dafni’s eyes unfocused and stared into nothing, her mind running away from her. With a suddenness not even Dafni was expecting, she snapped her head forward to focus on her objecting once more; the reverie over as quickly as it had begun. Once more she stared at the captain. “Captain.” Dafni murmured. Her tongue clumsy with her insecurity over the interaction. Even as she addressed the woman doubts started to batter at her consciousness whispering that this was all a joke. The other sailors had seemed fine with ridiculing her, this could just be a prank they played on the unsuspecting and foolish. Could a female really garner this brand of respect in such a hard profession? Dafni narrowed her eyes. “I came to trade information for coin. I desire to hear the secrets and rumors that your ears have picked up, since mine do not have access to the places yours do. I have been told that the captain of the Cyclones Song often trades in such things, is there any truth to these whispers?”
The young girl did not even pause in her contemplation to be embarrassed about her attitude towards the captain when she had thought her nothing but a ship whore. It was unclear if Dafni had simply forgotten; the interaction so unimportant in her vapid mind that it did not necessitate any space in her memories. Or maybe Dafni did not even realize what she had said and done before was insulting, and that now, it could cause issues for the completion of her objectives. Perhaps a combination of the two.
Astonishment. Pure undiluted and staggering astonishment. It took Dafni over like fear did a timid colt when first exposed to a loud sound. And just like the horses she spent so much time around the young girl balked and froze for just a second before rearing back as if slapped. If she had been equine in nature she may have even struck at the air and tossed her head, trusting her hard hooves to vanquish the threat. However, no threat was upon her. The fear she felt was more a mixture of confused bewilderment with a frigid thread of unease woven in for good measure.
When the large attractive tattoo canvas before her had looked over her head and departed a moment later Dafni had turned expecting to see the captain, her nervous tilting of lips morphing onto one that more nearly imitated serenity as she prepared to finally talk to the man in charge. And it was the captain. Just not the captain she was expecting. It was no man that approached, large and intimidating with command and cunning emanating from him, but rather the wench from before.
The wench, a woman... with but some non-verbal cue she had sent the muscled giant Dafni had been conversing with on his way. There was no resentment in his gaze as he heeded her command. No irritation or rebellion at taking orders from a woman. Rather an easy respect and obedience was present in those dark irises of his.
Dafni’s mouth gaped. Like a fish she stared up at the slightly taller silhouette that moved to stand in the man’s place. Exotically stunning and with a deadly grace about her, this woman, this captain stood relaxed before her.
“Y-ou b-but how I-I y-y-you…” Dafni stuttered and stumbled over her words like a newborn foal over its legs. But just as the foal would not take long to find its legs she found her words within mere moments. Whether they were the proper response to such a situation was yet to be seen but they were the only syllables that would travel the pathways between her brain and mouth, and she had little control over them.
“How is that possible.” Dafni whispered with a low intimacy often reserved for the dire occasions of important gossip. “You're a, well a-a woman. How in the gods do you sail the seas like man, how are you, a woman, in command of men…” She continued with complete and honest befuddlement. If one listened very closely, past the blatant shock and apparent flipping of Dafni’s world; they may hear something else. Twisted deep, and hidden masked within the young noble's tone and expression, was the slightest whisper of jealousy. She was not only expressing shock, but awe. It could be seen in the barest speculative twinkle in Dafni’s bewitching green eyes. In the near negligible catch of her breath and lowered pitch of her tone.
To the average observer these responses could be easily confused with simple confusion or even scandal. But the almost reverent pause of Dafni’s syllables, and the quick but patchwork connection of her sentences was a dead give away. The way she looked not in the eyes of the person she conversed with but to up and to the right as her imagination dissected and played fanciful options in her mind's eye.
To Dafni this was, nay this was unheard of really. In her world men had all the power and women such as this captain that was before her were relegated to rumor and ancient stories. Women were here to marry and further the house's name, money, assets, and connection. To put it crassly, they were the breeding stock of the noble houses much as the stud mares and stallions were for the Leventi herd. But that's how things were supposed to be. It was safer this way and it was what Dafni wanted more than anything else.
She wanted to meet a man, fall in love, and live the rest of her life spending his money for her pleasure and basking in his undying adoration. To pop out heirs and make him happy.
But with nothing other than her words this female pirate ship captain, this successful sailor woman, was broadening Dafni’s view of the small cloistered little world she lived in. The implications were intriguing. For a moment Dafni’s eyes unfocused and stared into nothing, her mind running away from her. With a suddenness not even Dafni was expecting, she snapped her head forward to focus on her objecting once more; the reverie over as quickly as it had begun. Once more she stared at the captain. “Captain.” Dafni murmured. Her tongue clumsy with her insecurity over the interaction. Even as she addressed the woman doubts started to batter at her consciousness whispering that this was all a joke. The other sailors had seemed fine with ridiculing her, this could just be a prank they played on the unsuspecting and foolish. Could a female really garner this brand of respect in such a hard profession? Dafni narrowed her eyes. “I came to trade information for coin. I desire to hear the secrets and rumors that your ears have picked up, since mine do not have access to the places yours do. I have been told that the captain of the Cyclones Song often trades in such things, is there any truth to these whispers?”
The young girl did not even pause in her contemplation to be embarrassed about her attitude towards the captain when she had thought her nothing but a ship whore. It was unclear if Dafni had simply forgotten; the interaction so unimportant in her vapid mind that it did not necessitate any space in her memories. Or maybe Dafni did not even realize what she had said and done before was insulting, and that now, it could cause issues for the completion of her objectives. Perhaps a combination of the two.
The befuddled look was enough to satisfy Akila. Perhaps if she cared to look deeper she could see the interlaced jealousy or the awe hidden beneath the surface. But looking beyond what was immediately available was not something that interested the pirate captain, at least not at this current second. The impression she had given Akila was one that left her without a desire to look further. She carried a vapid tone in the way she spoke, and so to truly study the hidden intonation of her words was something she cared not to do.
But it was in those words that Akila could find amusement. Her lips twisted into a smirk. How in the gods do you sail the seas like a man, how are you, a woman, in command of men… “Gods ain’t got nothin’ to do with it.” Akila didn’t waste her time begging the gods on her hands and knees. Were they going to help her? Fuck no, she was on her own. She wouldn’t trust them anyway. Akila made her own way, free from the gods who didn’t give any flying shits.
Besides, the girl was probably talking about the Greek gods. Why would they care about an Egyptian when no Egyptians cared about them?
But it was what she said next that caused the scarred brow to quirk even higher. I came to trade information for coin. Akila traded in many things. Typically it was stolen items or slaves. With the lone ships sailing these oceans, it was all too alluring to take advantage of the lawless ocean. Smuggling was a common practice of the pirate and her crew. What made a good pirate was not what they stole or who they stole, but the taxes they avoided which made for an excellent margin.
But information was an interesting thing to seek. Often more dangerous than any weapon found on her ship, more deadly than the quickest poisons, information came at a high price and only sold to those who would best wield it. Which then begged the question: Why would a little Greek girl go to a mean Egyptian crew for just that? What did she want and did she even know how to use the words that she hears? Secrets are only valuable if they’re kept that- secret. What stops her from running her mouth and devaluing the very thing she bought?
But also the word was so broad. What did she expect Akila to know? Or was it that there was someone behind her that actually wanted something? “Who are you to want to get in this dangerous game?” Now Akila was taking her more seriously. Had she wanted to establish a supply line from Akila, she may have entertained the thought before sending the girl off on her way. She wouldn’t have been worth the hassle. But this was different. Especially depending on what exactly she was looking for. “The more you know, the more bloody the game gets, kid.”
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The befuddled look was enough to satisfy Akila. Perhaps if she cared to look deeper she could see the interlaced jealousy or the awe hidden beneath the surface. But looking beyond what was immediately available was not something that interested the pirate captain, at least not at this current second. The impression she had given Akila was one that left her without a desire to look further. She carried a vapid tone in the way she spoke, and so to truly study the hidden intonation of her words was something she cared not to do.
But it was in those words that Akila could find amusement. Her lips twisted into a smirk. How in the gods do you sail the seas like a man, how are you, a woman, in command of men… “Gods ain’t got nothin’ to do with it.” Akila didn’t waste her time begging the gods on her hands and knees. Were they going to help her? Fuck no, she was on her own. She wouldn’t trust them anyway. Akila made her own way, free from the gods who didn’t give any flying shits.
Besides, the girl was probably talking about the Greek gods. Why would they care about an Egyptian when no Egyptians cared about them?
But it was what she said next that caused the scarred brow to quirk even higher. I came to trade information for coin. Akila traded in many things. Typically it was stolen items or slaves. With the lone ships sailing these oceans, it was all too alluring to take advantage of the lawless ocean. Smuggling was a common practice of the pirate and her crew. What made a good pirate was not what they stole or who they stole, but the taxes they avoided which made for an excellent margin.
But information was an interesting thing to seek. Often more dangerous than any weapon found on her ship, more deadly than the quickest poisons, information came at a high price and only sold to those who would best wield it. Which then begged the question: Why would a little Greek girl go to a mean Egyptian crew for just that? What did she want and did she even know how to use the words that she hears? Secrets are only valuable if they’re kept that- secret. What stops her from running her mouth and devaluing the very thing she bought?
But also the word was so broad. What did she expect Akila to know? Or was it that there was someone behind her that actually wanted something? “Who are you to want to get in this dangerous game?” Now Akila was taking her more seriously. Had she wanted to establish a supply line from Akila, she may have entertained the thought before sending the girl off on her way. She wouldn’t have been worth the hassle. But this was different. Especially depending on what exactly she was looking for. “The more you know, the more bloody the game gets, kid.”
The befuddled look was enough to satisfy Akila. Perhaps if she cared to look deeper she could see the interlaced jealousy or the awe hidden beneath the surface. But looking beyond what was immediately available was not something that interested the pirate captain, at least not at this current second. The impression she had given Akila was one that left her without a desire to look further. She carried a vapid tone in the way she spoke, and so to truly study the hidden intonation of her words was something she cared not to do.
But it was in those words that Akila could find amusement. Her lips twisted into a smirk. How in the gods do you sail the seas like a man, how are you, a woman, in command of men… “Gods ain’t got nothin’ to do with it.” Akila didn’t waste her time begging the gods on her hands and knees. Were they going to help her? Fuck no, she was on her own. She wouldn’t trust them anyway. Akila made her own way, free from the gods who didn’t give any flying shits.
Besides, the girl was probably talking about the Greek gods. Why would they care about an Egyptian when no Egyptians cared about them?
But it was what she said next that caused the scarred brow to quirk even higher. I came to trade information for coin. Akila traded in many things. Typically it was stolen items or slaves. With the lone ships sailing these oceans, it was all too alluring to take advantage of the lawless ocean. Smuggling was a common practice of the pirate and her crew. What made a good pirate was not what they stole or who they stole, but the taxes they avoided which made for an excellent margin.
But information was an interesting thing to seek. Often more dangerous than any weapon found on her ship, more deadly than the quickest poisons, information came at a high price and only sold to those who would best wield it. Which then begged the question: Why would a little Greek girl go to a mean Egyptian crew for just that? What did she want and did she even know how to use the words that she hears? Secrets are only valuable if they’re kept that- secret. What stops her from running her mouth and devaluing the very thing she bought?
But also the word was so broad. What did she expect Akila to know? Or was it that there was someone behind her that actually wanted something? “Who are you to want to get in this dangerous game?” Now Akila was taking her more seriously. Had she wanted to establish a supply line from Akila, she may have entertained the thought before sending the girl off on her way. She wouldn’t have been worth the hassle. But this was different. Especially depending on what exactly she was looking for. “The more you know, the more bloody the game gets, kid.”
“Who I am doesn’t matter.” Dafni stated primly with an impertinent tilt to her chin. Like a little girl playing dress up she stood there staring back at the captain. But rather than dresses and jewels and exaggerated accents, her costume was one of common linen and an oversized maturity that hung about her figure sagging and unfulfilled. Her posture trying to emulate the confident knowing one her parents so often embodied. But Dafni had little in the way of knowledge or expertise to back up the claims her body language tried so hard to portray. Though it was not for a lack of tutors. From simple table manners to mathematics and politics they had all tried to broaden her mind but little stuck other than the ones she needed for court. Even then it had been a struggle, and many an academic quit; unable to handle the rigor of corralling the youngest Leventi into her studies. “All that you need to know is that I have money enough to afford my inquiries.”
This claim on the other hand, and a verbal one at that, was true. Money, for Dafni, was little issue. She had never in her life experienced a moment when she could not pay for something she wanted. To her money was an endless well that never dried up and an unequivocal right of her birth. No matter the countless purses she spent there would always be more where those came from. This same naivety and confidence led Dafni to completely disregard the woman's exaggerated claims of blood and danger. Just as her birth afforded her the security of unlimited coin, so too did it afford her security of body and mind. None would dare harm her no matter the questions she asked. The only reason she ran around disguised as she was now, being for the sole purpose of not alerting her father to her adventures. And of course, maintaining the advantage of surprise if she was able to nab any useful tidbits from this scoundrel crew.
Even the fear she felt around these large pirates was simply animal instinct and ran naught but skin deep. For if she told them her real name, they would leave her be and scuttle away like the rats they were. She was a Leventi, and they, well they were just dirty Egyptians. Even if she could appreciate some of the horse stock and the occasional fine male specimens that came from their lands, they were not Taengeans; any offense they committed to one such as herself would be applied thrice back on them!
The only question, the only uncertainty in Dafni’s mind now, was what questions to ask. A foolish thing it may be, but when she had first set forth on this outing she had only the vaguest of ideas about what she sought. And now as she stood before the captain she had spent so much time and effort reaching, fooling her chaperones and hiking through this god awful part of the city (truly the smell alone made her think to just burn it all down); she was not quite sure what to ask. Dafni hesitated, her mind searching aggressively for but one concise question to ask, when suddenly it hit her.
She knew not what to ask, for she knew not what to ask about. Her father was a secretive man and her mother spoke in hidden tongues, the meaning lost without the secret codex her parents seemed to hold within their minds. So if she desired to be of use, first she must understand what exactly they were working for. One might wonder why she did not just ask straight out what information her father may be seeking at this time; but that was unthinkable. Her father would never entertain such talk from her. He thought her useless in these kinds of affairs. So, if this was to be her first of many outings for information, she might start by understanding what was already out there about herself and her family. For if she wanted to be more help than hindrance in matters of secrecy and scandal, she needed to understand what others already knew and speculated about them. Whether this was a childish and useless epiphany or not, nothing but time would tell.
“I wish to know about house Leventi. What secrets do you hear about its head of house, Fotios, and his beautiful wife? Or their daughters, the lovely Agape, Melina, and Dafni.” The youngest of the three herself questioned.
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“Who I am doesn’t matter.” Dafni stated primly with an impertinent tilt to her chin. Like a little girl playing dress up she stood there staring back at the captain. But rather than dresses and jewels and exaggerated accents, her costume was one of common linen and an oversized maturity that hung about her figure sagging and unfulfilled. Her posture trying to emulate the confident knowing one her parents so often embodied. But Dafni had little in the way of knowledge or expertise to back up the claims her body language tried so hard to portray. Though it was not for a lack of tutors. From simple table manners to mathematics and politics they had all tried to broaden her mind but little stuck other than the ones she needed for court. Even then it had been a struggle, and many an academic quit; unable to handle the rigor of corralling the youngest Leventi into her studies. “All that you need to know is that I have money enough to afford my inquiries.”
This claim on the other hand, and a verbal one at that, was true. Money, for Dafni, was little issue. She had never in her life experienced a moment when she could not pay for something she wanted. To her money was an endless well that never dried up and an unequivocal right of her birth. No matter the countless purses she spent there would always be more where those came from. This same naivety and confidence led Dafni to completely disregard the woman's exaggerated claims of blood and danger. Just as her birth afforded her the security of unlimited coin, so too did it afford her security of body and mind. None would dare harm her no matter the questions she asked. The only reason she ran around disguised as she was now, being for the sole purpose of not alerting her father to her adventures. And of course, maintaining the advantage of surprise if she was able to nab any useful tidbits from this scoundrel crew.
Even the fear she felt around these large pirates was simply animal instinct and ran naught but skin deep. For if she told them her real name, they would leave her be and scuttle away like the rats they were. She was a Leventi, and they, well they were just dirty Egyptians. Even if she could appreciate some of the horse stock and the occasional fine male specimens that came from their lands, they were not Taengeans; any offense they committed to one such as herself would be applied thrice back on them!
The only question, the only uncertainty in Dafni’s mind now, was what questions to ask. A foolish thing it may be, but when she had first set forth on this outing she had only the vaguest of ideas about what she sought. And now as she stood before the captain she had spent so much time and effort reaching, fooling her chaperones and hiking through this god awful part of the city (truly the smell alone made her think to just burn it all down); she was not quite sure what to ask. Dafni hesitated, her mind searching aggressively for but one concise question to ask, when suddenly it hit her.
She knew not what to ask, for she knew not what to ask about. Her father was a secretive man and her mother spoke in hidden tongues, the meaning lost without the secret codex her parents seemed to hold within their minds. So if she desired to be of use, first she must understand what exactly they were working for. One might wonder why she did not just ask straight out what information her father may be seeking at this time; but that was unthinkable. Her father would never entertain such talk from her. He thought her useless in these kinds of affairs. So, if this was to be her first of many outings for information, she might start by understanding what was already out there about herself and her family. For if she wanted to be more help than hindrance in matters of secrecy and scandal, she needed to understand what others already knew and speculated about them. Whether this was a childish and useless epiphany or not, nothing but time would tell.
“I wish to know about house Leventi. What secrets do you hear about its head of house, Fotios, and his beautiful wife? Or their daughters, the lovely Agape, Melina, and Dafni.” The youngest of the three herself questioned.
“Who I am doesn’t matter.” Dafni stated primly with an impertinent tilt to her chin. Like a little girl playing dress up she stood there staring back at the captain. But rather than dresses and jewels and exaggerated accents, her costume was one of common linen and an oversized maturity that hung about her figure sagging and unfulfilled. Her posture trying to emulate the confident knowing one her parents so often embodied. But Dafni had little in the way of knowledge or expertise to back up the claims her body language tried so hard to portray. Though it was not for a lack of tutors. From simple table manners to mathematics and politics they had all tried to broaden her mind but little stuck other than the ones she needed for court. Even then it had been a struggle, and many an academic quit; unable to handle the rigor of corralling the youngest Leventi into her studies. “All that you need to know is that I have money enough to afford my inquiries.”
This claim on the other hand, and a verbal one at that, was true. Money, for Dafni, was little issue. She had never in her life experienced a moment when she could not pay for something she wanted. To her money was an endless well that never dried up and an unequivocal right of her birth. No matter the countless purses she spent there would always be more where those came from. This same naivety and confidence led Dafni to completely disregard the woman's exaggerated claims of blood and danger. Just as her birth afforded her the security of unlimited coin, so too did it afford her security of body and mind. None would dare harm her no matter the questions she asked. The only reason she ran around disguised as she was now, being for the sole purpose of not alerting her father to her adventures. And of course, maintaining the advantage of surprise if she was able to nab any useful tidbits from this scoundrel crew.
Even the fear she felt around these large pirates was simply animal instinct and ran naught but skin deep. For if she told them her real name, they would leave her be and scuttle away like the rats they were. She was a Leventi, and they, well they were just dirty Egyptians. Even if she could appreciate some of the horse stock and the occasional fine male specimens that came from their lands, they were not Taengeans; any offense they committed to one such as herself would be applied thrice back on them!
The only question, the only uncertainty in Dafni’s mind now, was what questions to ask. A foolish thing it may be, but when she had first set forth on this outing she had only the vaguest of ideas about what she sought. And now as she stood before the captain she had spent so much time and effort reaching, fooling her chaperones and hiking through this god awful part of the city (truly the smell alone made her think to just burn it all down); she was not quite sure what to ask. Dafni hesitated, her mind searching aggressively for but one concise question to ask, when suddenly it hit her.
She knew not what to ask, for she knew not what to ask about. Her father was a secretive man and her mother spoke in hidden tongues, the meaning lost without the secret codex her parents seemed to hold within their minds. So if she desired to be of use, first she must understand what exactly they were working for. One might wonder why she did not just ask straight out what information her father may be seeking at this time; but that was unthinkable. Her father would never entertain such talk from her. He thought her useless in these kinds of affairs. So, if this was to be her first of many outings for information, she might start by understanding what was already out there about herself and her family. For if she wanted to be more help than hindrance in matters of secrecy and scandal, she needed to understand what others already knew and speculated about them. Whether this was a childish and useless epiphany or not, nothing but time would tell.
“I wish to know about house Leventi. What secrets do you hear about its head of house, Fotios, and his beautiful wife? Or their daughters, the lovely Agape, Melina, and Dafni.” The youngest of the three herself questioned.
What? Everything about this seemed rotten, and Akila wanted nothing to do of it. The brat wanted to know about the Leventi family? There was so much to unpack here. The first being… The Leventi family was a Greek family. She was Egyptian. The most amount of interest Akila had about noble families was whether or not they would be willing to give her coin. She knew them by name, sure. You don’t get into business without learning the richest families in each of the kingdoms- the Stravos in Athenia, the Drakos in Colchis, and of course… the Leventi in Taengea.
But you also learn who not to fuck with. The people who have money make sure that it’s kept. Perhaps it’s the Drakos that have the least skeletons in their closet, but from the stories, Akila hears none of these families were clean.
And it wasn’t like Akila was scared of them. But she also didn’t care about them. Why alienate and gossip with a girl when those families could pay her for a much bigger score. For if their morals are as grey as the whispers say, then would they even mind giving money to an Egyptian pirate?
Either way, speaking to the girl was more trouble than Akila found it to be worth. Especially since the girl was… odd. She carried herself like a bratty noble, with skin as smooth and hair as silky as one might expect, but her clothes were certainly not rich. She reminded Akila of the nobles that would sneak off to the tavern in search of a fun, adventurous night. And honestly, she could be. Wasn’t there a pretty Leventi on that side of the family? Maybe that was her.
It didn’t much matter. Akila could smell a rotten deal, and a girl’s allowance wasn’t worth the crap that could be thrown her way by one false word. Akila got enough headaches dealing with Greeks, she wasn’t about to get up in the face of one’s that could hold a grudge. She had shit to do and money to make.
So her face remained straight, “Word of advice, kid. Seeing as I’m so full of advice today. This one’s free. Don’t be poking your nose where it doesn’t belong. That’s how a pretty little face like yours gets scarred.”
Though let’s go down this rabbit hole. If this were to be the pretty daughter in the Leventi house, why would she be asking about her own family? Was she hoping to catch Akila in some act? Or run to her father and say there was some mole like Akila would put spies in his house. (Let alone her having spies.) She could belong to some other noble house, or maybe she’s just fucking rich. But why send a child to do an adult’s job?
Well, there really was only one way to find out. “Unless you’re jealous of my scar, my Lady.” Akila leaned forward, the scarred brow raising higher as she gave the girl a wicked grin.
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What? Everything about this seemed rotten, and Akila wanted nothing to do of it. The brat wanted to know about the Leventi family? There was so much to unpack here. The first being… The Leventi family was a Greek family. She was Egyptian. The most amount of interest Akila had about noble families was whether or not they would be willing to give her coin. She knew them by name, sure. You don’t get into business without learning the richest families in each of the kingdoms- the Stravos in Athenia, the Drakos in Colchis, and of course… the Leventi in Taengea.
But you also learn who not to fuck with. The people who have money make sure that it’s kept. Perhaps it’s the Drakos that have the least skeletons in their closet, but from the stories, Akila hears none of these families were clean.
And it wasn’t like Akila was scared of them. But she also didn’t care about them. Why alienate and gossip with a girl when those families could pay her for a much bigger score. For if their morals are as grey as the whispers say, then would they even mind giving money to an Egyptian pirate?
Either way, speaking to the girl was more trouble than Akila found it to be worth. Especially since the girl was… odd. She carried herself like a bratty noble, with skin as smooth and hair as silky as one might expect, but her clothes were certainly not rich. She reminded Akila of the nobles that would sneak off to the tavern in search of a fun, adventurous night. And honestly, she could be. Wasn’t there a pretty Leventi on that side of the family? Maybe that was her.
It didn’t much matter. Akila could smell a rotten deal, and a girl’s allowance wasn’t worth the crap that could be thrown her way by one false word. Akila got enough headaches dealing with Greeks, she wasn’t about to get up in the face of one’s that could hold a grudge. She had shit to do and money to make.
So her face remained straight, “Word of advice, kid. Seeing as I’m so full of advice today. This one’s free. Don’t be poking your nose where it doesn’t belong. That’s how a pretty little face like yours gets scarred.”
Though let’s go down this rabbit hole. If this were to be the pretty daughter in the Leventi house, why would she be asking about her own family? Was she hoping to catch Akila in some act? Or run to her father and say there was some mole like Akila would put spies in his house. (Let alone her having spies.) She could belong to some other noble house, or maybe she’s just fucking rich. But why send a child to do an adult’s job?
Well, there really was only one way to find out. “Unless you’re jealous of my scar, my Lady.” Akila leaned forward, the scarred brow raising higher as she gave the girl a wicked grin.
What? Everything about this seemed rotten, and Akila wanted nothing to do of it. The brat wanted to know about the Leventi family? There was so much to unpack here. The first being… The Leventi family was a Greek family. She was Egyptian. The most amount of interest Akila had about noble families was whether or not they would be willing to give her coin. She knew them by name, sure. You don’t get into business without learning the richest families in each of the kingdoms- the Stravos in Athenia, the Drakos in Colchis, and of course… the Leventi in Taengea.
But you also learn who not to fuck with. The people who have money make sure that it’s kept. Perhaps it’s the Drakos that have the least skeletons in their closet, but from the stories, Akila hears none of these families were clean.
And it wasn’t like Akila was scared of them. But she also didn’t care about them. Why alienate and gossip with a girl when those families could pay her for a much bigger score. For if their morals are as grey as the whispers say, then would they even mind giving money to an Egyptian pirate?
Either way, speaking to the girl was more trouble than Akila found it to be worth. Especially since the girl was… odd. She carried herself like a bratty noble, with skin as smooth and hair as silky as one might expect, but her clothes were certainly not rich. She reminded Akila of the nobles that would sneak off to the tavern in search of a fun, adventurous night. And honestly, she could be. Wasn’t there a pretty Leventi on that side of the family? Maybe that was her.
It didn’t much matter. Akila could smell a rotten deal, and a girl’s allowance wasn’t worth the crap that could be thrown her way by one false word. Akila got enough headaches dealing with Greeks, she wasn’t about to get up in the face of one’s that could hold a grudge. She had shit to do and money to make.
So her face remained straight, “Word of advice, kid. Seeing as I’m so full of advice today. This one’s free. Don’t be poking your nose where it doesn’t belong. That’s how a pretty little face like yours gets scarred.”
Though let’s go down this rabbit hole. If this were to be the pretty daughter in the Leventi house, why would she be asking about her own family? Was she hoping to catch Akila in some act? Or run to her father and say there was some mole like Akila would put spies in his house. (Let alone her having spies.) She could belong to some other noble house, or maybe she’s just fucking rich. But why send a child to do an adult’s job?
Well, there really was only one way to find out. “Unless you’re jealous of my scar, my Lady.” Akila leaned forward, the scarred brow raising higher as she gave the girl a wicked grin.
Dafni gasped and drew back in shock. Not only had the sudden and spiteful tone from the pirate captain startled her but the simple yet defining meaning of her words.
Unless you’re jealous of my scar, my Lady.
How had the woman known? How had she detangled Dafni’s incredibly complex ruse? The indignance of it made her seethe. Unclasping her hands with visible effort, the muscles nearly locked together with the constant pressure and lack of movement. Bringing her arms back around to the front of herself she crossed them about her chest like a spoilt child defending the actions she well knew were wrong. Dafni’s green jeweled eyes glared unencumbered now, the Egyptian woman the sole recipient of their poisonous high society sights.
“How did you know?” Dafni asked with the unmistakable haughtiness of her birth. “How did a ship rat like you recognize me? I doubt many of your ilk gets to visit the civilized sections of the city often.” She spat. Not only had this woman mocked and tricked her but she stood there so superior with that look on her face like Dafni was just a stupid little girl. It was the same look her father gave her only with less patronization and more antagonization. She hated that look. No, she fucking despised it. How dare this lowly pirate captain disrespect her so!
“You will give me the information I trekked all the way to this disgusting dock to get or it will be my pleasure to get you another scar to be so proud of.” Dafni mocked with the arrogance of a general with the entirety of an army backing him, her eyes tracking the exposed trail of raised skin with distaste. But just like that general, as soon as the fighting started she would sneak back behind her forces and call the shots from a comfy chair in a comfy tent with the taste of expensive liquor on her tongue. But unlike those great Greek generals Dani had no army to defend her, only the reputation of her name. And not even that. For if she told this woman her name, and it got back to her father, well then everything would be ruined. So irreversibly and absolutely ruined she would never be allowed to relieve herself without a maid by her side ever again. Like an invalid she would be watched at every moment by her father's many eyes. That would just not do. So even though she stood full of hot air and bluster Dafni still did not impart her name, instead utilizing the full strength of her noble born ire in hopes that its weight would speak louder than her name.
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Dafni gasped and drew back in shock. Not only had the sudden and spiteful tone from the pirate captain startled her but the simple yet defining meaning of her words.
Unless you’re jealous of my scar, my Lady.
How had the woman known? How had she detangled Dafni’s incredibly complex ruse? The indignance of it made her seethe. Unclasping her hands with visible effort, the muscles nearly locked together with the constant pressure and lack of movement. Bringing her arms back around to the front of herself she crossed them about her chest like a spoilt child defending the actions she well knew were wrong. Dafni’s green jeweled eyes glared unencumbered now, the Egyptian woman the sole recipient of their poisonous high society sights.
“How did you know?” Dafni asked with the unmistakable haughtiness of her birth. “How did a ship rat like you recognize me? I doubt many of your ilk gets to visit the civilized sections of the city often.” She spat. Not only had this woman mocked and tricked her but she stood there so superior with that look on her face like Dafni was just a stupid little girl. It was the same look her father gave her only with less patronization and more antagonization. She hated that look. No, she fucking despised it. How dare this lowly pirate captain disrespect her so!
“You will give me the information I trekked all the way to this disgusting dock to get or it will be my pleasure to get you another scar to be so proud of.” Dafni mocked with the arrogance of a general with the entirety of an army backing him, her eyes tracking the exposed trail of raised skin with distaste. But just like that general, as soon as the fighting started she would sneak back behind her forces and call the shots from a comfy chair in a comfy tent with the taste of expensive liquor on her tongue. But unlike those great Greek generals Dani had no army to defend her, only the reputation of her name. And not even that. For if she told this woman her name, and it got back to her father, well then everything would be ruined. So irreversibly and absolutely ruined she would never be allowed to relieve herself without a maid by her side ever again. Like an invalid she would be watched at every moment by her father's many eyes. That would just not do. So even though she stood full of hot air and bluster Dafni still did not impart her name, instead utilizing the full strength of her noble born ire in hopes that its weight would speak louder than her name.
Dafni gasped and drew back in shock. Not only had the sudden and spiteful tone from the pirate captain startled her but the simple yet defining meaning of her words.
Unless you’re jealous of my scar, my Lady.
How had the woman known? How had she detangled Dafni’s incredibly complex ruse? The indignance of it made her seethe. Unclasping her hands with visible effort, the muscles nearly locked together with the constant pressure and lack of movement. Bringing her arms back around to the front of herself she crossed them about her chest like a spoilt child defending the actions she well knew were wrong. Dafni’s green jeweled eyes glared unencumbered now, the Egyptian woman the sole recipient of their poisonous high society sights.
“How did you know?” Dafni asked with the unmistakable haughtiness of her birth. “How did a ship rat like you recognize me? I doubt many of your ilk gets to visit the civilized sections of the city often.” She spat. Not only had this woman mocked and tricked her but she stood there so superior with that look on her face like Dafni was just a stupid little girl. It was the same look her father gave her only with less patronization and more antagonization. She hated that look. No, she fucking despised it. How dare this lowly pirate captain disrespect her so!
“You will give me the information I trekked all the way to this disgusting dock to get or it will be my pleasure to get you another scar to be so proud of.” Dafni mocked with the arrogance of a general with the entirety of an army backing him, her eyes tracking the exposed trail of raised skin with distaste. But just like that general, as soon as the fighting started she would sneak back behind her forces and call the shots from a comfy chair in a comfy tent with the taste of expensive liquor on her tongue. But unlike those great Greek generals Dani had no army to defend her, only the reputation of her name. And not even that. For if she told this woman her name, and it got back to her father, well then everything would be ruined. So irreversibly and absolutely ruined she would never be allowed to relieve herself without a maid by her side ever again. Like an invalid she would be watched at every moment by her father's many eyes. That would just not do. So even though she stood full of hot air and bluster Dafni still did not impart her name, instead utilizing the full strength of her noble born ire in hopes that its weight would speak louder than her name.
How did you know? So Akila was right. Figures. If the girl was smart she would have stopped there and allowed Akila the chance to speak. But this entire interaction from when she first stepped onto the docks until now was proof that the girl did not have a single working brain cell. Akila should have let Khalid handle it. She had thought the chance to wipe the look off her smug face would be worth it, and for a moment it was worth it.
How did a ship rat like you recognize me? Akila wondered where the term rat came from. She had gotten sand rat, sea rat, now ship rat. But why rats? Was that the worst animal that people could come up with? The ugliest? It didn’t hurt her feelings in the slightest. If she was looking to actually insult Akila then it was simple: Just call her a Greek
But then she continued on from that. How could this girl be so daft? Did she honestly believe that she could threaten Akila? All she had was bark and no bite, and a daddy who threw money at her to get her to shut up.
“You wanna know why I’m so proud of this scar?” Akila stepped in nice and close to the noble, reaching forward to grip her chin. “Because of what I did to the person after. I got this close to him, as close as you and I are now. I reached forward and shoved my hand into his eye. Only when I was annoyed with his crying and screaming did I rip it out and shove it down his throat until he choked it down. Then I shoved him in the ocean and watched as the water turned red and sharks came for their feast. You sure you want to be the one to give me a scar, little girl?”
None of that was true, but it didn’t much matter. It could be true, it was certainly not above Akila. Her upper lip curled and with her peripheral vision she saw movement from her ship. Khalid and Abraxas were making their way toward her.
Akila straightened back up, dropping the chin with her iron grip. “You have a filthy mouth, girl. Maybe you should go wash up. Help her out, boys.” Akila was done with this conversation. They were about to leave port anyway. She turned her back from her, right as Khalid and Abxraxas closed in on Dafni, lifting her from the floor. She didn’t care to watch. Her mind was already elsewhere. Akila stepped back onto her ship, paying no mind to what was going on behind her. She went to her scribe to conduct her business.
Splash! Akila did not even look when she heard the men chuck the girl off of the ‘dirty’ dock. Later, perhaps, Akila would pat herself on the back for doing such a good deed. Who else was going to teach that bitch some manners?
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
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How did you know? So Akila was right. Figures. If the girl was smart she would have stopped there and allowed Akila the chance to speak. But this entire interaction from when she first stepped onto the docks until now was proof that the girl did not have a single working brain cell. Akila should have let Khalid handle it. She had thought the chance to wipe the look off her smug face would be worth it, and for a moment it was worth it.
How did a ship rat like you recognize me? Akila wondered where the term rat came from. She had gotten sand rat, sea rat, now ship rat. But why rats? Was that the worst animal that people could come up with? The ugliest? It didn’t hurt her feelings in the slightest. If she was looking to actually insult Akila then it was simple: Just call her a Greek
But then she continued on from that. How could this girl be so daft? Did she honestly believe that she could threaten Akila? All she had was bark and no bite, and a daddy who threw money at her to get her to shut up.
“You wanna know why I’m so proud of this scar?” Akila stepped in nice and close to the noble, reaching forward to grip her chin. “Because of what I did to the person after. I got this close to him, as close as you and I are now. I reached forward and shoved my hand into his eye. Only when I was annoyed with his crying and screaming did I rip it out and shove it down his throat until he choked it down. Then I shoved him in the ocean and watched as the water turned red and sharks came for their feast. You sure you want to be the one to give me a scar, little girl?”
None of that was true, but it didn’t much matter. It could be true, it was certainly not above Akila. Her upper lip curled and with her peripheral vision she saw movement from her ship. Khalid and Abraxas were making their way toward her.
Akila straightened back up, dropping the chin with her iron grip. “You have a filthy mouth, girl. Maybe you should go wash up. Help her out, boys.” Akila was done with this conversation. They were about to leave port anyway. She turned her back from her, right as Khalid and Abxraxas closed in on Dafni, lifting her from the floor. She didn’t care to watch. Her mind was already elsewhere. Akila stepped back onto her ship, paying no mind to what was going on behind her. She went to her scribe to conduct her business.
Splash! Akila did not even look when she heard the men chuck the girl off of the ‘dirty’ dock. Later, perhaps, Akila would pat herself on the back for doing such a good deed. Who else was going to teach that bitch some manners?
How did you know? So Akila was right. Figures. If the girl was smart she would have stopped there and allowed Akila the chance to speak. But this entire interaction from when she first stepped onto the docks until now was proof that the girl did not have a single working brain cell. Akila should have let Khalid handle it. She had thought the chance to wipe the look off her smug face would be worth it, and for a moment it was worth it.
How did a ship rat like you recognize me? Akila wondered where the term rat came from. She had gotten sand rat, sea rat, now ship rat. But why rats? Was that the worst animal that people could come up with? The ugliest? It didn’t hurt her feelings in the slightest. If she was looking to actually insult Akila then it was simple: Just call her a Greek
But then she continued on from that. How could this girl be so daft? Did she honestly believe that she could threaten Akila? All she had was bark and no bite, and a daddy who threw money at her to get her to shut up.
“You wanna know why I’m so proud of this scar?” Akila stepped in nice and close to the noble, reaching forward to grip her chin. “Because of what I did to the person after. I got this close to him, as close as you and I are now. I reached forward and shoved my hand into his eye. Only when I was annoyed with his crying and screaming did I rip it out and shove it down his throat until he choked it down. Then I shoved him in the ocean and watched as the water turned red and sharks came for their feast. You sure you want to be the one to give me a scar, little girl?”
None of that was true, but it didn’t much matter. It could be true, it was certainly not above Akila. Her upper lip curled and with her peripheral vision she saw movement from her ship. Khalid and Abraxas were making their way toward her.
Akila straightened back up, dropping the chin with her iron grip. “You have a filthy mouth, girl. Maybe you should go wash up. Help her out, boys.” Akila was done with this conversation. They were about to leave port anyway. She turned her back from her, right as Khalid and Abxraxas closed in on Dafni, lifting her from the floor. She didn’t care to watch. Her mind was already elsewhere. Akila stepped back onto her ship, paying no mind to what was going on behind her. She went to her scribe to conduct her business.
Splash! Akila did not even look when she heard the men chuck the girl off of the ‘dirty’ dock. Later, perhaps, Akila would pat herself on the back for doing such a good deed. Who else was going to teach that bitch some manners?
It was a funny word, flounder. Both the name of a fish and the description of someone who was clumsy and struggling to maintain purchase upon unsteady feet, particularly as it related to water or mud. It was a word that could easily come to mind if someone walked by and saw Dafni now.
She floundered in the murky depths of the harbor. Water splashing and bubbling all around her with the vicious way she flailed. The-the barbarians! She had been thrown like week old trash into the water that supported the captain's ship. With fish and scum and commons filth she swam now. As soon as the men had taken hold of and dragged the kicking screaming youngling to the edge of the dock, she had blasted the whole dock with her screeches. Like the yowles of a wet cat she screamed and cried out. The incredible pitch of her fear and indignation enough to make ears bleed and faces crumple in distaste.
It was unthinkable, utterly unimaginable. These Egyptian scum had not only put their hands on her but thrown her bodily into the ocean! Even as she sputtered on the water that sought entrance past her lips Dafni continued her shrieking assault on the eardrums of the bystanders. People peeked over the edge to laugh and jeer at her before walking on to finish the business that was so pressing as to preclude them assisting her as they should. Tears started to bleed into the ocean waters, briny liquid mixing with briny liquid, leaving no trace in taste or trail of the physical expression of Dafni’s sorrow.
Frustration was present in equal measures to the fear of her desperate attempt to swim and sadness redden eyes. It was seen in the set of her face and the gritting of her teeth if one could see past the little waves that crashed about her face as she clawed at the dark water in an attempt to stay afloat. Her garment was now a sodden and heavy weight that clung and pulled at her legs and body. Her sandals clad feet decreasing the efficiency of her kicks by quarter measures at the very least.
“Your dead you bitch”. Dafni screamed at the boat that was even now preparing to depart. The syllables garbled and lost to the confusion and impediment of the ocean water upon her speaking abilities.
It was not until a good time later that Dafni was finally able to drag herself from the terrifying depths of the ocean and back up onto the docks. Never before had she been so thankful to have the tasseled length of rope to hold her clothing together than right now. She would never have been caught dead in such a thing normally, but today had been all about appearing lesser than she was. If she had used a broach or fibulae in place of this rope today… well, she would have been emerging onto dry land in naught but her skin. As it was, the simple white linen barely passed as respectable, the cloth becoming transparent drenched in water as it was.
Standing once more on the dock and with murder in her eyes Dafni watched as the Pirates ship became nothing but a memory against the bright light of the midday sun. Snarling like a feral animal Dafni screamed obscenities at the retreating hull before twirling away in a huff to make the long trek back to the public Loutra. She kept her head down as she walked, the state of her bringing more eyes than she needed upon her figure, and increasing her chances at being recognized. If she ever saw that gods damned woman again… well, let's just say she wouldn't be starting the interaction with pretenses, rather with chains and city guards, and a pretty knife she could use to adorn the rest of the gorgeous woman's face appropriately.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
It was a funny word, flounder. Both the name of a fish and the description of someone who was clumsy and struggling to maintain purchase upon unsteady feet, particularly as it related to water or mud. It was a word that could easily come to mind if someone walked by and saw Dafni now.
She floundered in the murky depths of the harbor. Water splashing and bubbling all around her with the vicious way she flailed. The-the barbarians! She had been thrown like week old trash into the water that supported the captain's ship. With fish and scum and commons filth she swam now. As soon as the men had taken hold of and dragged the kicking screaming youngling to the edge of the dock, she had blasted the whole dock with her screeches. Like the yowles of a wet cat she screamed and cried out. The incredible pitch of her fear and indignation enough to make ears bleed and faces crumple in distaste.
It was unthinkable, utterly unimaginable. These Egyptian scum had not only put their hands on her but thrown her bodily into the ocean! Even as she sputtered on the water that sought entrance past her lips Dafni continued her shrieking assault on the eardrums of the bystanders. People peeked over the edge to laugh and jeer at her before walking on to finish the business that was so pressing as to preclude them assisting her as they should. Tears started to bleed into the ocean waters, briny liquid mixing with briny liquid, leaving no trace in taste or trail of the physical expression of Dafni’s sorrow.
Frustration was present in equal measures to the fear of her desperate attempt to swim and sadness redden eyes. It was seen in the set of her face and the gritting of her teeth if one could see past the little waves that crashed about her face as she clawed at the dark water in an attempt to stay afloat. Her garment was now a sodden and heavy weight that clung and pulled at her legs and body. Her sandals clad feet decreasing the efficiency of her kicks by quarter measures at the very least.
“Your dead you bitch”. Dafni screamed at the boat that was even now preparing to depart. The syllables garbled and lost to the confusion and impediment of the ocean water upon her speaking abilities.
It was not until a good time later that Dafni was finally able to drag herself from the terrifying depths of the ocean and back up onto the docks. Never before had she been so thankful to have the tasseled length of rope to hold her clothing together than right now. She would never have been caught dead in such a thing normally, but today had been all about appearing lesser than she was. If she had used a broach or fibulae in place of this rope today… well, she would have been emerging onto dry land in naught but her skin. As it was, the simple white linen barely passed as respectable, the cloth becoming transparent drenched in water as it was.
Standing once more on the dock and with murder in her eyes Dafni watched as the Pirates ship became nothing but a memory against the bright light of the midday sun. Snarling like a feral animal Dafni screamed obscenities at the retreating hull before twirling away in a huff to make the long trek back to the public Loutra. She kept her head down as she walked, the state of her bringing more eyes than she needed upon her figure, and increasing her chances at being recognized. If she ever saw that gods damned woman again… well, let's just say she wouldn't be starting the interaction with pretenses, rather with chains and city guards, and a pretty knife she could use to adorn the rest of the gorgeous woman's face appropriately.
It was a funny word, flounder. Both the name of a fish and the description of someone who was clumsy and struggling to maintain purchase upon unsteady feet, particularly as it related to water or mud. It was a word that could easily come to mind if someone walked by and saw Dafni now.
She floundered in the murky depths of the harbor. Water splashing and bubbling all around her with the vicious way she flailed. The-the barbarians! She had been thrown like week old trash into the water that supported the captain's ship. With fish and scum and commons filth she swam now. As soon as the men had taken hold of and dragged the kicking screaming youngling to the edge of the dock, she had blasted the whole dock with her screeches. Like the yowles of a wet cat she screamed and cried out. The incredible pitch of her fear and indignation enough to make ears bleed and faces crumple in distaste.
It was unthinkable, utterly unimaginable. These Egyptian scum had not only put their hands on her but thrown her bodily into the ocean! Even as she sputtered on the water that sought entrance past her lips Dafni continued her shrieking assault on the eardrums of the bystanders. People peeked over the edge to laugh and jeer at her before walking on to finish the business that was so pressing as to preclude them assisting her as they should. Tears started to bleed into the ocean waters, briny liquid mixing with briny liquid, leaving no trace in taste or trail of the physical expression of Dafni’s sorrow.
Frustration was present in equal measures to the fear of her desperate attempt to swim and sadness redden eyes. It was seen in the set of her face and the gritting of her teeth if one could see past the little waves that crashed about her face as she clawed at the dark water in an attempt to stay afloat. Her garment was now a sodden and heavy weight that clung and pulled at her legs and body. Her sandals clad feet decreasing the efficiency of her kicks by quarter measures at the very least.
“Your dead you bitch”. Dafni screamed at the boat that was even now preparing to depart. The syllables garbled and lost to the confusion and impediment of the ocean water upon her speaking abilities.
It was not until a good time later that Dafni was finally able to drag herself from the terrifying depths of the ocean and back up onto the docks. Never before had she been so thankful to have the tasseled length of rope to hold her clothing together than right now. She would never have been caught dead in such a thing normally, but today had been all about appearing lesser than she was. If she had used a broach or fibulae in place of this rope today… well, she would have been emerging onto dry land in naught but her skin. As it was, the simple white linen barely passed as respectable, the cloth becoming transparent drenched in water as it was.
Standing once more on the dock and with murder in her eyes Dafni watched as the Pirates ship became nothing but a memory against the bright light of the midday sun. Snarling like a feral animal Dafni screamed obscenities at the retreating hull before twirling away in a huff to make the long trek back to the public Loutra. She kept her head down as she walked, the state of her bringing more eyes than she needed upon her figure, and increasing her chances at being recognized. If she ever saw that gods damned woman again… well, let's just say she wouldn't be starting the interaction with pretenses, rather with chains and city guards, and a pretty knife she could use to adorn the rest of the gorgeous woman's face appropriately.