"What was yer childhood like? Was yer ma' as crazy as mine?"
Ruffles blinked. "I don't know. She died just after I was born. I grew up in the shanties in Zephyr, and I was the eighth kid in the family. My dad worked as a laborer all the time to make ends meet, so my grandma took care of us." He gave a small laugh. "I shit you not, a scarier woman I have never met. Not even the Captain." He supposed he should answer the first question. "So we all did a bit of work from a young age, and one day I find this electric thermometer on the ground that's busted. It was the wiring, and once I pried the back off and spent a couple days looking at it, I fixed it up. My dad found out and set me up fixing people's gadgets and crap for carbon. So then this guy comes along, real suave in a three piece suit, says he's been sent by some Noble family and starts asking me questions with this pocket watch. Says I have an IQ of a hundred and sixty two, whatever that is. Apparently it means I'm a genius or something."
He coughed, not liking the praise of the idea. He was spilling a lot, but he'd started and couldn't shut up. "So I have people watching me for a while, doing my job and playing with my brothers and sisters and friends. They told my dad I was "too erratic to be taken into service" or something and he got real mad at me, saying I fucked up our one chance to get out the gutter, saying I killed mom, and he hit me. I ran off, and... yeah, I was homeless for a while. And I'd always been interested in ships, and Zephyr's where they're all built. So eventually I find this guy, this big shipwright. Big guy with a big red beard. He keeps trying to shoo me, but I kept coming back to the dry dock and shit, watching. I start handing him shit whenever one of his crew isn't on hand and after a few weeks he stops sending me away. Started teaching me everything he knew. I stopped sleeping rough and got a bed in the workman's bunkhouse. I'd go back to see my family. My dad died a couple years after in a work accident, but I stayed close to everyone else. A few years later, I bumped into Pixie back when all this was kicking off. I still send a little carbon back to grandma whenever I get the chance."
The man nodded. After Maria helped herself up, she helped the somewhat lucky stranger up and dusted him down. Well, that was just an excuse to give the guy a look over. He was a wiry sort, and while his mask hid the lower half of his face, some stubble could be seen. His face was a mess, scorched an ugly shade of red by the sun, and had been given a beating or three: broken nose, a black eye and some minor cuts on the forehead. Hell, the whole of him was a mess: ripped jeans, torn jacket, and a sweat-soaked vest. Only his goggles, his belt and his fingerless gloves seemed to be undamaged. Nevertheless, mess or not, he was her patient now. Maria dragged him over to the moped, gave him some water and started up the engine.
"Y.. Yeah. 'S Micky." He managed to cough out after having a sip.
"Well then Micks, let's go!" Maria chortled in response.
Seeing as Micky needed it more than her, Maria took off her labcoat and threw it at him. Micky put it on, and as soon as he was finished, Maria put her foot down on the accelerator. They blasted off at the mighty speed of about 20 mph. Maria sighed. They had to get to a settlement soon, otherwise Micky would have to be put back in the dirt. It all came down to dirt didn't it? Those little blocks of hyper-dense dirt seemed to cause all sorts of trouble. People would kill, main, rape and do all sorts of nasty things just to get their hands on one little bit. At least she helped people! Maria stole a glance of her passenger and wondered what sort of life he had before he pissed all over it. Judging by the scraggly remains of a scarf that clung around his neck, it wasn't a very wholesome one...
Turns out finding a member of one of the most notorious crime families was harder than it looked, she visited various bars and other establishments were one might find such a person, but was having next to no luck for the last half an hour. Deciding she needed to take a break, Viola stopped at the next bar she could find, one that called itself The Militiaman's Tavern.
Upon entering she could see why it was called that, as many of the bar's patrons were mercenary looking types. But as she approached the counter, something caught her attention in the corner of her eye. It was a lone man in a black business suit nursing a drink; at first it seemed a little out of place, but then as she scanned the gentleman further, she noticed a red bandanna with what looked like a lizard on it.
'Well, guess I picked the right place then.' Viola said to herself with a smile as she took a seat next to the suit and ordered herself a drink, nothing alcoholic of course for the moment, needed to keep her aim straight.
"So, how's the business holding up?" Viola asked in a manner that hopefully wouldn't draw attention to herself.
Warren grabbed his comrade's wrist, and quickly tugged, ripping him free of his ass-prison. It was pretty much as easy as he thought it was, and Warren was even considerate enough to try and be gentle. A gift, because of the cookie. When he was up, Warren even brushed some dust off his shoulders for him.
"I feel like you could've done that yourself." Warren said, grinning his red grin. It still hurt a bit, and Warren found himself feeling his scars again. He brought his hand back down, and stopped grinning so widely.
With a quick tug Warren pulled Aesop free from the wooden imprisonment. Warren tried to be gentle, which Aesop was thankful for, but that didn't stop his ass from bleeding upon exit. He yelped as he stood, his body completely frozen from the pain in such an uncomfortable place-not as bad as being shot but... well you try getting splinters in your ass cheeks and see how you feel. Warren even dusted off his shoulders for him. "I feel like you could've done that yourself." Warren grinned, actually grinning. Still kinda creeped Aesop out but he had no right to be judgemental of the man who just saved his ass, in a rather literal sense.
Aesop's hand hung in the same position, outward even as Warren put his down. "I think I need a change of pants... um, because of blood not..." Aesop trailed off as his mind couldn't help but focus on the pain. He liked these pants too. He hoped the crates would have some extra pants as well as some suave noble clothes, despite his surplus of vests and waistcoats he was severely lacking in pants.
Raymond sipped at his drink, and glanced at the woman who had invaded his quiet. This line of work, you often got floozies throwing themselves at you for a taste of the power connection to Wilkes-Vines came with. Who he saw dispelled that line of thought though. The Gunslinger. Quite a reputation. But you didn't make it in the Wilkes-Vines unless you could stay stoic. He didn't react. He just let her wait as he idly finished his drink.
After a couple of minutes, he drained it, and slapped the bar for another, which came sliding down towards him almost comically instantly. He picked it up demurely and slowly moved it to his lips, smiling. Then he set it down. "Whadda ya want?"
There was nothing Sprout enjoyed more about his fellow Maidens than the tales they told. Granted, this one was far more mundane than those Ruffles was known for, but learning such personal information was interesting in its own right. It wasn't often Maidens were so quick to divulge their pasts, in fact Sprout felt as if he may have asked about this before but hadn't received an answer. Ruffles was like an older brother to him. He couldn't imagine there being anything he wouldn't tell him.
A few years later, I bumped into Pixie back when all this was kicking off. I still send a little carbon back to grandma whenever I get the chance."
Once Ruffles had finished his tale Sprout giggled, "Reckon I'll get ta' meet yer granny one of these days?" For whatever reason it was hard for him to imagine Ruffles' grandmother looking like anything but an old lady version of Ruffles. Instead of wearing a black welding apron she'd be wearing a frilly, white cooking apron. Sprout laughed to himself. "Sorry ta' hear 'bout yer pa', though. I reckon the closest thin' I ever had to a father was Bennie. You remember 'Rocksteady', dontcha?"
Sprout's eyes wandered as he thought to himself out-loud, "Wonder what he's been doin' these days..."
Business had been slower than usual. You'd think all sorts of opportunities would be cropping up, what with the train heist and all, but it didn't seem to have done a damn thing. Everyone must have been too damn scared to do anything now that ol' Dio was out for blood. Having your fiancee snatched away like that would have that effect on any man, but there was a whole different story behind Lord Basilio's rage.
Fucking hell girl, what're you getting yourself into this time?
Bennie put the paper back down on the bar and lit up another cigarette, "Want another round, Bennie?"
The hulking black man shook his head in protest and took a long drag, "Sorry, boss. Think it's a little too early to be knockn' them back, don't you think?"
"You know how it is 'round here. People do what they do. Booze's about the only thing in this shithole keepn' people from blastn' each other's brains out."
"Ain't that a shame."
After the bartender wandered off to help another customer Bennie continued looking over the front page of the paper once more. He focused on the phrase "unknown bandits", referring to those responsible for the heist. Bennie knew better. It'd only taken him the first two sentences of the article to figure out Pixie and her Maidens were behind it, "Crazy *****."
"Yeah, yeah... okay, but seriously we's gonna need more guys if we're gonna take down the Maiden! Basilio's pay'n out his ass fer this job! He wants the Queen *****'s head!"
So Dio's hired bounty hunters to take her out? Bennie grunted and stood up. Three men seated at a table not too far from him had been discussing the contract they'd made with Dio. Something Bennie was very interested in. Business had been slow, after all.
He took a few steps towards their table and stood behind a vacant chair. The trio had ceased their conversation after his first step. They exchanged a few glances, their hands hovering over their sidearms. They knew who he was.
After several moments one of them spoke up, "Whadda you want?"
Bennie smirked and took a seat, "Relax, boys. I just want to talk." They exchanged glances once more and remained poised to attack. "Tell me about this contract you gentleman made. You planning to take out the Maiden?"
"Fuck! He's gonna warn the *****! Take 'im out boys!" Before either of the three could draw, Bennie fired his revolver from the hip at the man directly across from him. Momentarily shocked to see their comrade fall so fast, Bennie took this opportunity to flip the table over and shoot the second man in the chest before he could level his weapon. The third man stood up from his seat to get a shot on Bennie from behind the table, but took too long to get a bead on him. Before he knew it Bennie had turned faster than any man his size has any right being, embedding his fist in the man's face and sending a stray bullet flying off into the rafters.
By this point most of the bar had cleared out and the only noise that could be heard were the wails of the man Bennie had pinned under him. Bennie had disarmed him and proceeded the knock a few teeth out until the man was ready to speak up, "F-fuck! G-get off me! I'll fuckn' tell you whatever you want, man! Fuck!" This guy would be pretty useless. If these guys were such chumps there was no way they'd have any useful intel. They'd never make it within one-thousand miles of the Maiden.
Bennie punched him one last time and then, grabbing his collar, he pulled the man in close. Calmly, he spoke to the man, "Who else did Dio hire for this job?"
Shivering in terror and pain the man frantically looked around the room, too scared to look Bennie in the eyes despite them being hidden behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, "F-fuck, I dunno, I-I--" His train of thought came to a sudden halt as his eyes focused on something behind Bennie. "H-him! HE WAS FUCK'N THERE TOO!"
Bennie looked over his shoulder to see an albino man sitting at a table in the corner of the tavern. It didn't look as if the commotion had stirred him. Bennie smiled and turned his attention back at the man at his mercy, "Thanks." After a swift headbutt, Bennie dropped the unconscious man like a sack of meat and wandered over to the albino. Like he had before, Bennie stood by a vacant chair and asked him, "Mind if I take a seat?"
Name: Bennie "Rocksteady" Carmine Age: 33 Sex: Male Profession: Hired Gun, he'll take just about any job. He's known for his professional nature and sharp intellect. Formally a bandit and a member of the Iron Maiden.
Appearance: Of African descent, Bennie is a hulk of a man that stands at six-in-a-half feet tall and built like a brick house. If you were to focus on his body alone, however, you'd be doing the man a disservice. His intellect is painted on his face so to speak, as he maintains a calm, stoic expression in the most tense of circumstances. His head is kept shaven, but he usually sports closely shaven facial hair up to his temples with a more pronounced goatee. He has cold, black eyes that are more often than not concealed by his sleek, black sunglasses.
To maintain his professional imagine he usually wears an un-tucked, blue dress shirt (he often rolls up the sleeves), a white undershirt, an antique watch, jeans and some very expensive brown, leather shoes. Considering the size of his feet he particular about his shoes. He needs something that will look professional, but offer the comfort and flexibility he needs for his job. They are easily more expensive than anything else he owns, including his weapons.
His weapon of choice is his trust old tactical shotgun, but he more often than not falls back on his revolver: a chrome S&W M29. It was his father's gun and his father's before that. When neither weapon is available his fists are usually just as frightening.
He has a few ear piercing, but other than that the only distinguishing mark on his body is a small tattoo of a pixie on his shoulder. Something left over from a past life.
Personality: Bennie's a quiet guy but is easily to get along with. He won't give you shit or bust your balls unless he's got a good reason to, and is always willing to do someone a favor given they'd be willing to help him in kind. He's got a subtle and dry sense of humor that manages to creep under one too many radars, but that's fine with him. As long as he thought it was funny it was worth saying.
Despite his easygoing nature he's fairly controlling. Bennie doesn't like going into anything blind and will usually demand to know the circumstances of a job before taking it. That isn't to say he would pry into anything he doesn't need to know about. As long as he is working with all the facts that matter he'll be a happy camper. This personality quirk also made its way into his dealing with the Maiden back in the day and was often a source of friction between him and its captain, Pixie.
As an avid reader of old literature, Bennie's very insightful and people often times find themselves drawn to him. He's been described as a gentle giant, but anyone who's seen his badside know otherwise.
Biography: Bennie grew up as a member of an old bandit family that's long since faded away. He would say they died out because his family clung to the old way of things. The Carmines came from an age when bandits knew a thing called honor. When the game the nobles played was far more subtle. Those times ended long ago, however.
Though his upbringing had its fair share of violence and debauchery, Bennie was well educated and well-rounded, for the most part. Despite being raised primarily by his father due to the death of his mother when he was very young, he had no lack of female influence as he grew up around many women of all ages and quickly learned their way of things. Men would often say there wasn't another bandit alive that knew the workings of a woman's mind and body as well as Bennie. They'd be right.
When he came of age to replace his father as head of the family he was denied the position. By that point they'd lost too many battles and hadn't evolved like the rest of the families. They'd fallen too far behind and had lost too many men to continue on. His father didn't want Bennie to inherit the barren husk that remained and opted to take his own life while he was still the acting leader, telling Bennie to find his own way before he ended it. The Carmine family dissolved after that and Bennie, with a refined skill-set but nowhere to exercise his craft, wandered the ashlands until a certain someone caught his eye.
It is said that Bennie is the only man on the Rock to not only feast on the bounty that was Pixie's body, but to also conquer her heart. He joined the Maiden during its heyday, back when Cranston was still babysitting Sprout and Pixie was still biting off more than she could chew. He was always at Pixie's side, her right-hand man so to speak. He treated Sprout like his own son during the seven years he spent aboard the ship and the two became extremely close.
Unfortunately, during a high risk score he and Pixie had a disagreement that costed more than a few lives. After such a disastrous failure the two parted ways. It was clear any idea of them ever becoming a true family was a farce, not with the way they lived their lives. At any moment they could take a bullet in the back of the head and neither one of them wanted to be there when that happened.
Since then Bennie's been operating solo all over the ashlands. He'll take just about any job that pays enough. He's known for being punctual, thorough, easy to work with and a cowboy between the sheets.
The guy was certainly playing his part well, unlike other gangsters she had the misfortune of dealing with, he took his time, waiting for the right moment, occasionally glancing at Viola; no doubt to size her up. He downed his first drink before slamming the bar for another, not subtle, but it got the job done, and sure enough, more of the same came his way. He took the drink to his lips in an unassuming manner, and slowly took sips from it, all the while smiling. "Whadda ya want?" He asked in a rather overbearing manner.
"Nothing much, just a simple business proposition that I'd like to make with someone." After she had spoke, her drank arrived in front of her. Viola took a few small sips, and set it back down, waiting for the man to respond.
"Nothing much, just a simple business proposition that I'd like to make with someone."
Raymond sipped his drink again before answering. "Unless said proposition involves you and I getting heinous in the restroom of this shit hole, you're going to have to work very hard to interest me."
"I think I need a change of pants... um, because of blood not..."
"Mhmm. I'm just going to go find something else to do. Another time." Warren gave a lazy wave goodbye, wandering out of the room and leaving Aesop to his own devices. Hopefully, away from chairs and sitting. Warren decided to double back, and return to Lilith, because honestly why not? It was probably better than hanging around Aesops bloody ass... 'That sounds like something she'd SAY.'
It wasn't too long before he made it back to the watchtower ladder, quickly climbing after leaving his sword behind. He poked his head up from the hatch,
"Mind if I spend awhile up here?"
________________________________________________________________________________________________ Kayneth
"Mind if I take a seat?"
"So long as the table and your pistol remain in place." Kayneth warned, one hand resting on his sword and the other holding his pistol in the vague direction of the Mountainous Man. Bit, complete opposite in terms of skin color, looked more intelligent when he wasn't trying to cave a man's head in with his own brain-holder.
"Name and intention. If you'd please." Kayneth never took his eyes off the man, nor did his revolver waver. It was filled with explosive ammo, a shot hitting anywhere would make that part disappeared. And it seemed quite hard to miss.
Lilith titled her head slightly, not taking her eyes off the horizon, as she heard someone climb the ladder.
"Mind if I spend awhile up here?"
"Only if you brought back my priest." Lilith smiled, blowing smoke out of her nostrils. The room was pretty hazy by this point.
At this rate, she was going to have spent more time with Warren over the period of two days, than she ever did over the year and a half since his arrival on the Maiden. She was glad, Warren wasn't so intimidating once you got to know him.
Still bat shit fucking crazy, but the friendly kind of crazy, the crazy you want on your side.
Her eyes still on the Ashlands, Lilith nodded towards the second chair. "Fiiiiiiiine, I'll let you off this time."
"Mhmm. I'm just going to go find something else to do. Another time." Said Warren as he wandered out the room.
"Wait, I didn't mean like y-ah fuck it you're not listening to a word I say are you?" Warren was already out the room by the time the word 'listening' was said by Aesop. He bowed his head in shame, picking up the book and looking inside the crate he fell into for other books. Without looking to see what they were he grabbed a handful. He tucked them under his arm as he held some cookies in his hand of the same arm. He turned and was heading out the room when his mind stopped working for a moment.
Slowly, he turned and limped his way over to the crate he was staring into earlier. Wine and Whiskey littering the bottom layer. He picked up a bottle of whiskey and observed it for a long while before promptly dropping it onto the floor, letting it smask and the liquids contained spread out across the floor. Swiftly he reached in and grabbed a small box of cigars as he hobbled out, trying to avoid the scent of the alcohol. Limping around the ship he tried his best to avoid crew members, though some saw him hobbling and thus his bloody behind, much to their amusement. Entering his room and slamming the door closed he threw the books and cookies onto the bed as he immediately grabbed a match and lit the cigar. Not much of a smoker, not since he was 16, but he needed a vice to take his mind off of the booze and the contents of the crate he took with him. Grabbing the first aid kit he kept in his bedside drawer he gingerly tended to his wounds, of which I will just say he did what you're supposed to do to clean wounds because nobody wants to read the details of that. It took much longer than he wanted but he was sure he had it all sorted. Slowly setting himself down Aesop lay on his stomach on his cot with an overload of bandages where he was scratched. Leaning his head up he smoked with one hand and continued to read the book from which he was reading earlier.
"Chapter 3. The night shadows. A Wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. A solemn consideration..."
"Never took you for the religious type." Warren muttered, looking around as much as he could. Not much. He left the hatch open as he meandered inside, trying not to cough. Lilith seemed to be admiring the view, Warren couldn't exactly say the same. All 30+ years of desolate desert kind of ruined the wonderment for him.
"Fiiiiiiiine, I'll let you off this time."
"Appreciated." Warren muttered, leaning on a wall. At least it was peaceful up here. He didn't want to sit, though, Aesoping himself was not an option. "So... Got any stories?" He asked innocently after a brief pause.
Lilith smirked, snubbing out her cigarette. "I was raised by nuns, don't let the whole 'bandit' thing fool you." She noticed that he didn't seem particularly fond of sitting down. Always on guard, this one.
"So... Got any stories?"
Lilith raised an eyebrow. "Stories? What kind of stories?"
"So long as the table and your pistol remain in place."
It had taken Bennie a second to figure it out, but he was sure of it now. This was the albino of the Vance family, Kayneth. Though they had never met, Bennie had heard of his exploits. This was the duelist, one of the few nobles alive who had any sort of code to speak of.
Bennie could trust him.
He smiled and slowly placed his revolver on the table.
"Name and intention. If you'd please."
Bennie pulled out a seat and plopped down across from Kayneth, "Right to the point I see. I don't see that a lot with nobles these days." He leaned back and crossed his arms casually. "The name's Bennie Carmine of the late Carmine family. Might you know the name 'Rocksteady'? They used to call me that in my Maiden days."
Bennie grinned devilishly. He didn't want to make the man uncomfortable, but he couldn't help taking the piss out of him at least a little bit, "What I want is revenge, Kayneth. I want to plant my feet on the bridge of the Maiden once more and be able to call it my own. I want to put that two-faced ***** in her place." He lit up a cigarette and blew smoke up into the air above them. "This' been a long time coming. What do you say, Kayneth? You get the bounty.... I get the ship?"
Sunglasses were a godsend when it came to lying and despite Bennie's aptitude in the craft the extra aid was always welcome. In truth he'd need Kayneth to make contact for him and lead him to where some of the crew may be. From there... Bennie wasn't sure, but he knew he had to get to Pixie as fast as he could. Hell'd be on its way sooner rather than later and he was certain it'd be him pulling her ass out of the fire when it came.
"Ya' know, ya' kind'a remind me of m'self in a way. An' I mean that in the most complimentary way possible." Well, that caught Josephine off guard, and Elizabeth was quick to question it. "I 'spose yer right. I don' have any honor nor can I be counted on to keep'a promise. That's why I'm leave'n yer protection up to her. Whadda ya' say?"
Despite her companion's protests, she nodded to the captain. "Aye. Thou has a deal." Suddenly, something came to mind. She and Elizabeth weren't the only captives, and as much of an annoyance that that man was yesterday, she couldn't have him doing anything that would put either of them at risk. "Captain, may I ask about the other captive? The one thou would'st kill before on the train? Has he caused you or your men any more grief?"
"It means any past experiences. Like seeing Aesop getting his ass stuck in a moldy wooden crate, reading a book to himself. Or how you got your scar." He smiled faintly at the last part, pushing his up further. He looked out the window for a few seconds.
"If you go first, I'll tell you one of mine."
________________________________________________________________________________________________ Kayneth
"Right to the point I see. I don't see that a lot with nobles these days."
'And most would cut out your tongue for that.' Kayneth didn't move the pistol, but noted that he disarmed himself. He had seen the headbutt earlier, though, no chance of him dropping his weapons. No matter how sure he was that he could take this guy one handed.
"The name's Bennie Carmine of the late Carmine family. Might you know the name 'Rocksteady'? They used to call me that in my Maiden days."
"I wouldn't." Kayneth replied simply, maintaining his taciturn nature. His eyes widened somewhat, though, when his prey's name was said so casually. The man grinned, and it took much to keep his sword in it's sheath. A head is a head... And this man had a large head. He decided to wait, however, see how this went.
"What I want is revenge, Kayneth. I want to plant my feet on the bridge of the Maiden once more and be able to call it my own. I want to put that two-faced ***** in her place."
A shadow of rage passed over the Duelists face, he hadn't told him his name... and to use it so casually, after identifying with the very people he was to hunt. Arrogant, but the noble grit his teeth and let him finish his presentation.
"This' been a long time coming. What do you say, Kayneth? You get the bounty.... I get the ship?"
"I did not tell you my name, and I sure as hell didn't give you permission to use my first." Kayneth said, after a long, silent moment. "But you're allowed to come along, so long as you don't slow me down."
"It means any past experiences. Like seeing Aesop getting his ass stuck in a moldy wooden crate, reading a book to himself."
"Wait, what?" Lilith grinned.
"Or how you got your scar."
Lilith's grin quickly turned too a frown. The scar was a pathetic reminder, the remnants of a child who no longer existed, not her proudest moment.
"If you go first, I'll tell you one of mine."
However, her curiosity outweighed her pride. "Happened a long time ago, before I joined the Maiden. Back in my home town. Remember why they call me 'Casino'? Well, my gambling days started loooooong before that." She perked up slightly, this isn't a big deal, don't act like it's a big deal, pretend you don't still have nightmares about it. "I was waiting for a ship out of town, and some guy, a bloke I destroyed at cards earlier that night. Must have won a months pay off the guy." She furrowed her brow, pausing to think for a moment. "Anyway, this guy is absolutely wasted, so drunk you could smell him a mile away. He recognises me, and pulls a gun on me. I was 15 at the time, I mean, sure I'd been threatened before, but that was the first time anyone ever pulled a gun on me." She decided to leave out the part where she begged for her life. "He pulls the trigger, the bullet grazes my cheek and hits the wall behind me. Next thing I know, the guy hits the dirt, stone dead. A bullet fragment hit him square between the eyes." Lilith smiled weakly, "And that's when I met Meredith, the Maiden was the ship I booked passage on, back when they did some 'honest' work. Funny how the world works sometimes, eh?"
She stretched put her arms, cracking her fingers. "Anyway, enough about my boring story, I'm sure yours is much more interesting."
"Captain, may I ask about the other captive? The one thou would'st kill before on the train? Has he caused you or your men any more grief?"
Pixie put her hands on her hips and grinned, "Bart? Naw, I reckon the ol' chrome-dome, Cranston's been keepn' 'im company. I'll be pay'n the man a visit here in a lil' bit."
Elizabeth's eyes narrowed, "Are you to finish the job you started yesterday?"
"I wish," Pixie remarked with a shrug. "But ya' know, he's worth a lot more ta' me alive than dead. I'm nothin' if not a shrewd businesswoman." Tired of standing, Pixie took her seat next to Florian once more. After hesitating for moment Elizabeth followed suit.
Reaching into her back pocket, Pixie produced a metal flask and took a swig. The smell of bourbon escaped her lips as she spoke, "Anyway, now that I can trust lil' miss Tigereye with yer safety I can sleep easy. Yer in good hands, Goldilocks."
Goldilocks?! If she is to treat us as proper guests the least she could do is use our proper names!
Elizabeth shook off Pixie's disrespectful demeanor and replied, "You still haven't told us why you want to 'help' me. I don't care what form of fabricated documentation your crew presents us with. Nothing that comes from you will convince me he's what you say he is! What reason have I to trust you after all this?"
"Fabricated documents?" Pixie questioned with a confused expression. She looked to Florian and then to Josephine. "What the hell'r y'all on about? Did Gents say somethin'?"
"I did not tell you my name, and I sure as hell didn't give you permission to use my first.... But you're allowed to come along, so long as you don't slow me down."
Bennie sensed the anger in Kayneth as he presented himself. It was always fun to ruffle a noble's jimmies. If there was one thing he'd loved Pixie for it was her knack for doing just that. However, perhaps he'd taken it too far? The nobleman may have agreed to his terms, but it wasn't without an urge to kill Bennie. He grinned, "Pardon my manners, Lord Vance, but I'm known around here for my... cautious nature. How was I to know you're who I thought you may be if I hadn't busted your chops a bit to provoke that noble rage of yours? Relax."
Bennie threw his arm up and signaled to the bartender. Still shaking in fear, the bartender slowly rose from behind the bar, "Two cold ones. Both on me." The bartender nodded slowly and turned to retrieved the requested drinks. "So, I'm sure you're wondering how I can help you? Well, I know people who know things about the Maiden. Given my history, however, asking them myself ain't an option."
The bartender stepped over the motionless corpse in the center of the room and placed two beers on the table, "Thanks," Bennie said as he placed far more carbon on the table than was necessary for such drinks. No doubt to cover the cost of the mess he'd made. He took a swig and sighed in ecstasy. "I tell you who to talk to. You talk. We follow the leads until they lead us to the Maiden and we take it out. I take the ship, you take the bounty and we go our separate ways. That sound about right to you, sir?"
"Anyway, enough about my boring story, I'm sure yours is much more interesting."
"You... are an entirely new type of lucky." Warren laughed, noticing slightly how uncomfortable it made her. He felt a bit sorry, but wouldn't say it. "My turn now, eh? Well, scar story for scar story..." He went with, instead.
Warren had told the story of his scars 4 times, each time before was a lie. Now, he decided to tell the truth, for whatever reason. He liked to keep people guessing, throw in the truth in a vat of lies and no one would tell the difference. Still, they all started out the same...
"It was about, I'll say 10 at night, half past at the latest. I was still a little tyke, a teenager of about 14 with a duster a size too big with two bullet holes in the back, and my sword, that was too big for me. I hung around a city everyone called the Split, cause of it had two big ass towers in the middle, and a huge crack splitting the town. A bunch of bridges connected the sides, I lived on the west side.
"I was just some punk who called himself a bounty hunter, no one really hired me for much. Except this one gal, kept giving me money for doing chores around her parents hotel. I hadn't ever really been treated kindly, so I just did the jobs and took off with the money... but I liked her. She was normal, except her looks I suppose. She had a birthmark, covered about half her face, kinda like one of those masks nobles wear at fancy parties. Rest of her face was covered in freckles. Masquerades or something. One day, I saw her arguing with some guy, big rough looking type. Bandit. I snuck on him, threw him on to the ground and started stomping on his face. She pulled me off after a bit, guy was missing a bit of his head.
"I was breathing so hard, didn't hear his buddies come in, both toting pretty big guns. One of em noticed us, and fired. Poor girl turned, bullet hit her in the head, took out her eye but not much else. The other guy missed me but clubbed me with his rifle. I pretty much crumpled, too shocked to do much else... idiot."
Smiles drifted into silence for a moment.
"They clubbed me for a bit, mostly the back, a few in the head. I was bleeding pretty heavy when one of em picked me up, wanting to do some trick he learned from a friend of a friend. He busted open a window, and took a bit of glass from it. Bout as big as my middle finger, and made two cuts. Not too big, kinda felt like a cakewalk, compared. Then the beatings began again. Turns out, muscles in the mouth or something start contracting, made the scar bigger. I can't begin to describe the feeling, that ripping. When it was done, I was bleeding more blood than I thought was even in me, and they left when the girls dad came in. Shot him in the head, straight on, leaving him without a face. They ran after that, scared cause he brought guests.
"The guests were the ones who took care of me, made sure I didn't bleed out. The Girl lived too, had a bad speech impediment, got bullied for her scars and her birth mark. Didn't talk to me again, lord knows I tried though. I guess I was her only reminder of the day her dad died... I moved on from the city a bit later, a couple months maybe? I dunno.
Warren shrugged, not letting any emotion into his gruff monotone voice, and his eyes remained dry as ever. "That got a bit depressing, didn't it? Your turn. Nowhere to go but up at least."
______________________________________________________________________________________________ Kayneth
"Pardon my manners, Lord Vance, but I'm known around here for my... cautious nature. How was I to know you're who I thought you may be if I hadn't busted your chops a bit to provoke that noble rage of yours? Relax."
"How many people with my accent do you think's in this city?" He asked, though Bennie had turned around, to fetch drinks. He even offered to buy, flattery and charity. Kayneth couldn't help but be a bit annoyed, but he'd get over it. For now, proposals.
"So, I'm sure you're wondering how I can help you? Well, I know people who know things about the Maiden. Given my history, however, asking them myself ain't an option."
'So far so useless...' The drinks arrived, though Kayneth held off on drinking for now. Bennie tipped, generously, and went back to business.
"I tell you who to talk to. You talk. We follow the leads until they lead us to the Maiden and we take it out. I take the ship, you take the bounty and we go our separate ways. That sound about right to you, sir?"
"... Eh, fine." Kayneth finally agreed, taking a large swig of his drink.
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