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Fantasy 𝙩𝙤 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙖 𝙢𝙖𝙣. - [1𝙭1]

you look stupid with those on.
sybil.
Sybil was hyper aware of every movement Knox dared to make in her presence. When his jaw worked itself in a gaped position, she only narrowed her eyes and worked a frown upon her lips. A moment later, and the flush red hue she had become accustomed to seeing on his ears made its signature appearance once more. Her arms remained crossed as she continued to balance his blade on her lap, though she had grown bored of the weight in the few short minutes of holding. Letting out a slight huff as Knox worked his jaw shut and stuttered out a few curse words, she carelessly let the blade slide to the side and clatter to the floor. As long as it didn't cut her, she didn’t care about the condition of his weapon.

"I mean, of course it's nothing but scribbles to you. I shouldn't have assumed you could read our language just because you speak it so well... My complacency is to blame."

The frown that had been resting on her visage deepened even further, and her narrowed eyes turned to a sharp glare. What did he mean by of course? A loud ‘tsk’ sounded as she uncrossed her arms, half-tempted to grab a fistful of his hair to give it a good yank. The tongue on this man was audacious and impudent. He was clearly being sarcastic with her, giving just how clunky she spoke his language. It would be far easier to slip back into her native tongue, but it seemed unwise to speak it anywhere on this cursed ship.

Though her lips parted to snap back a harsh rebuttal, she quickly worked them shut as the journal was once more opened and slid towards her. A noise akin to a growl began to rumble in her throat, convinced that Knox was simply doing this to mock her. However, the noise soon died out as he dragged his chair closer to her own. He slid...something onto his face, though Sybil was unsure of their purpose. She had seen humans wear them before, but she never exactly cared about them either. Before she could even ask what he was doing, her attention was drawn back to the journal as he began to trace over the scribbles with a pen.

Oh good. He was going to read to her.

Like she was a child.

Letting out a loud huff that was more than obvious, Sybil opted to remain silent and to re-cross her arms in contempt. She knew was being childish about the entire situation, but she didn’t exactly have the bandwidth to react appropriately. They weren’t scribbles on the pages; They were the actual written words of his language that she had failed to learn. She was no better than a common villager on land, forced to rely on those more educated for basic needs. Making a moment of brief eye-contact with him when he glanced up at her, she just widened her gaze a bit and motioned for him to continue reading. The last thing she needed at the moment was for him to pay more attention to her than needed.

Her attitude quickly vanished as he began to speak of attack patterns, however. In an instant, the pissy look on her face had shifted into something far more intrigued, and she leaned forward to peer a bit more closely at the pages. It hadn’t exactly dawned on her that humans would track their attack patterns. They rarely managed to kill sirens, so why would it matter where they showed up?

Tilting her head a bit to the side, Sybil only scoffed and waved one hand dismissively. Without missing a beat, she reached out to snatch his glasses, her lips already moving as she did. “Vopreli royals are not exactly good at secrets. Scea Mryai is a fishing town that no one cares for. Vopreli thinks that the way to defeat the sirens involves sacrifice for the greater good. They send out bait ships to lure sirens in hopes of catching one for research, but it never works. You would have heard about it by now if it did,” she said casually, holding up the glasses to one eye to peer through the glass. A snort of laughter followed soon after, the woman clearly entertained by his spectacles. The information she had just divulged seemed obvious. Weaker sirens often traveled to Scea Mryai for easy pickings, taking a sick joy in the bait boats.

“If I were the Captain of a ship dedicated to killing sirens,” she continued, holding the glasses up above her head and to the light as she spoke. “I would look to where no sirens attack. To wear sirens can not attack. You best hope your contact in Jiuy Isles knows much about the secrets of Glaesia.”

Finally lowering her hands to place the glasses upon her face, another bout of laughter slipped out as she widened her eyes and squinted them. She looked over to Knox, leaning back a bit as she tried to adjust her gaze to her new accessory. “I have heard of the Jiuy Isles and their stupid festivals. I am not surprised you seem excited for them,” she quipped, before waving her hand near his face to try and gauge how distance worked with the frames.

“These are terrible for vision. Why would you wear such a stupid item?”
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coded by reveriee.
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i'm sure she'll change her tune soon...
knox.
knox slightly flinched when sybil leaned forward into his space to get a closer look at the journal, surprised by the sudden movement given her volatile past, but tried his best not to let the momentary discomfort interrupt his train of thought. she didn't seem to care at all either way, hooked on his words once he began to detail the findings of his research thus far.

she certainly had a valid point about the vopreli royals' unconventional methods of handling the sirens' aggression in their waters, but that tidbit wasn't much of a secret to the captain either given his information network. that particular royal family was notorious for weaponizing the local faith to carry out their own wily designs, so he didn't doubt for a second that some sort of deeper, darker secret was motivating them to act so callously, one he hardly wished to become involved with himself— what did come as a surprise, however, was the cursory mention of glaesia amidst this discussion with no further clarification as to why such a desolate, uninvolved location might hold the answers to his questions.

"hm, is that so..."
glaesia. his father had mentioned that frigid land in passing a number of times throughout his youth, but it wasn't until he attented the academy and studied its ecology that he understood why no one dared colonize that corner of the world— between the unforgiving weather conditions, hostile wildlife, and lack of fertile soil, it simply wasn't worth it no matter how much gold they invested in terraforming the region. if what they were searching for truly resided in such a land, then they'd certainly need to return to salona to prepare for the brutal climate before taking on that leg of the journey.

knox found himself so invested in the shift in conversation that he hardly even noticed sybil snatching the glasses clean off his face until she held them up to her own eyes, her amused snort interrupting the tense topic. meanwhile, his gaze followed the sloping planes of her neck as she leaned back to observe his glasses in the light, intrigued and impressed by the ease with which she seamlessly pieced together her pre-existing knowledge with the intel he'd just provided. maybe taking her in as a consultant would prove fruitful after all...

“these are terrible for vision. why would you wear such a stupid item?”


a small grin returned to his lips as sybil's hands hovered in the air in front of her face, evidently baffled by the odd contraption that had no chance of working on her no matter how she adjusted it.
"probably because they're custom made for my eyes to help me read smaller text, though they give me a headache if i wear them too long."
he paused for a moment as he wondered whether it would be considered overstepping to call a physician to assess sybil's vision before shaking the thought from the forefront of his mind and moving on to her unfounded yet apparent distaste for festivals.

“i have heard of the jiuy isles and their stupid festivals. i am not surprised you seem excited for them."


"what a harsh judgment for something you haven't experienced for yourself,"
knox mused with a raised eyebrow, leaning back in his chair at long last with an uninvested shrug,
"but if you really would rather stay on the ship by yourself than fill your belly with local delicacies and party on the beach, then suit yourself. i won't make you do anything stupid if you don't want to."
his words were obviously bait, no less than a provocation of her ability to remain open-minded in the face of a new challenge, but he wasn't actually all that invested in coercing her to join him for the festivities if she wasn't interested— given their interactions until then, she would probably become an added source of stress more than anything if she did choose to tag along.
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coded by reveriee.
 
you look stupid with those on.
sybil.
Letting out a scoff at the mention of his eye device being custom made, she opted to remove the glasses and haphazardly dangle them back over to Knox. She equally didn’t bother to confirm if he had actually gotten a hold on the spectacles before she let go, her attention already drawn elsewhere as she rolled her gaze away with a rather loud yawn. Though it would have admittedly been funny to see the two glass frames smash on the floor, she wasn’t willing to put in the effort to be purposefully antagonistic at the moment. She’d have to save her energy for a more opportune moment. Still, her eyes rolled back over to Knox, squinting a bit before parting her lips to finally speak.

“I see what you are trying to do. I never said I was not going to the festival with you, just that I find it stupid and mindless. Partying on the beach on an isle…” She scoffed, tilting her head a bit to observe Knox as she continued on. “Why would anyone want to party on a beach when sirens are lurking right beneath the waves? I already question why you sail on this ship in an asinine quest, but at least you have some sort of purpose. Others have no purpose in life. No worries,” she huffed out, uncrossing her arms to push herself into a standing position. Another yawn threatened to overtake her body, and she moved her hand over her mouth to cover it. Once the yawn had been stifled, Sybil twisted her back a bit and stretched her arms above her head. While she stretched often under the waves, it was always a weightless movement. A low groan left her lips as a satisfying pop sounded from her back, before she turned away from the table the two had just been seated at.

Without another word, she began to walk towards Knox’s bed. Her hands were making quick work of unbuttoning the top she wore, hardly batting an eyelash at the situation she was putting herself in. It was still amusing how quickly the red overtook Knox’s face whenever she undressed.

“We will go to the isle and meet with your informant. Hopefully we are not wasting precious time on this trip,” she said as she stripped, her back facing Knox. The top dropped unceremoniously to the floor, leaving her bare skin exposed to the world once more. A visible shiver moved down her spine at the brush of cold air, her body having grown used to the garments in such a short period of wearing them. Still, she couldn’t deny how nice it felt to take it all off again. The plush covers of his bed were calling to her, and she didn’t much care about the opinion of the man sitting behind her as she practically dove under the thick blankets.

Turning to face Knox once again, Sybil simply blinked slowly at the Captain. Heavy lashes brushed against her cheeks, and a small smirk seemed to grace her lips before she flipped over in the bed and left her back to Knox. Seems like she was comfortable for the night.

---

The next week or so of travel were odd to say the least. Although Sybil mostly kept to herself when possible, it was hard to deny how often she seemed to shadow behind the Captain as he went about his duties. Though she often refused conversation with the other members of the crew, there was a rare occasion when she’d grace their ears with a snarky remark off to the side.

When the ship finally docked at the Isles, there was a wave of relief that seemed to wash over the crew. To finally put their feet back on solid ground and enjoy a fresh meal. Perhaps they’d even find themselves entertained for the evening, if they were lucky.

Of course, this feeling was mutual for everyone but Sybil.

Staring down the plank of the ship, Sybil could only screw her lips in a frown. Near the bottom, Knox was attempting to coax her off the ship, though his words were falling on deaf ears. She was deaf to the outside world, only able to hear the thoughts racing through her mind.

The last time she had dragged herself onto land, it was to rip out Knox’s heart. She had been staring down at him, so close to her goal. And yet…she had failed. A failure that followed her years later as she rotted away as a human, staring down at the man who she had intended to kill.

A scoff visibly left her lips, before the woman began her light jog down the plank. Picking up a bit of momentum unintentionally, she barreled past Knox and straight off the deck into the sandy beach a foot or so below. A loud ‘oomf’ sounded, but it seemed she had survived.
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coded by reveriee.
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don't laugh don't laugh don't laugh—
knox.
the first time a young cecil had set his sights on jiuy isles' famed coastlines came a week into a trip with amelia on their way to attend their cousin's wedding celebrations in arlind, an upscale gala out west hosted by the burke prince and his newly unveiled fiancé that kicked off the social season among salona's elite class. still only a devious schoolboy with a meandering problem, he had been staunchly prohibited from straying too far from the flock back then and thus hadn't gotten the chance to immerse himself in the culture; since then, however, the esteemed captain "knox foreman" had returned plenty of times to make up for his disappointing first impression, a welcome face among their taverns after spending a good share of his vacation days sampling the local brews and dancing in the square.

and while this trip was technically of the work variety, a clear mission in mind and objectives to carry out, the captain had no intention of letting a perfectly good reprieve from the tension slip through his weary fingers as a first-time attendee to this particular festival. even if he hadn't been feeling fatigued after the tumultuous turns their journey had taken until then, his crew still deserved a break of some sort for their stellar efforts thus far.

"it's not that far down, sybil,"
knox assured his hesitant, yet somehow still haughty companion. constant bed-hogging and occasional teeth-baring aside, sybil had remained relatively docile throughout the week leading up to the isles, so much so to the point that she'd even begun socializing with the crew little by little. perhaps she could bring herself to enjoy the festivities despite her initial disdain for the culture, he wondered, if she continued to make progress this quickly.

still, knox knew full well that this trip couldn't be easy for her, a vip hostage forced to take countless new experiences in stride, tossed into a constantly changing climate she was forced to adapt to for the sake of her own survival. truly, he understood— he had been in those shoes, beaten down and tired, never able to rest for even a day lest that be his last, and it had changed him fundamentally as a person.

when he extended a helping hand to support sybil's balance on her way down, however, she instead scoffed, gained some momentum, and audibly collided with the sand below on her own two feet. knox instantly ducked his face out of her line of vision as he bit back the laughter that threatened to spill over his lips if he wasn't careful. as worrying as her descent sounded upon impact, she seemed altogether alright by the looks of it, and though he ultimately opted to not fret so to spare her any further embarrassment, his barely-concealed amusement could still be detected in the curve of his lips and the lilt to his voice.

"if your ankles are still intact, there's a couple shops i recommend we check out first before exploring the island,"
knox began, mirth twinkling in his eyes at the opportunity to poke a little fun at sybil as he strode past her towards the lively town that lie beyond the beach.
"a tailor, to start— we need to get you some new clothes before you sweat yourself to death out here."


while he wished he was kidding, salona was much chillier than anywhere this far south and their fabric selections reflected that; if she pranced about in the snug layers that leena had altered from her own outfits, dehydration could very well take her out before an enemy sword ever got the chance to.

"besides..."
knox paused in his tracks, eyes narrowing as he observed the exuberant attire donned by locals and tourists alike as they exited the bustling shops along the coast, unfamiliar to him from his past off-season visits,
"it looks like there may be a dress code we need to brush up on— ready?"



coded by reveriee.
 
you look stupid with those on.
sybil.
Face planting directly into the sand had not been part of Sybil's’ agenda for the day, or any day really. The moment she felt the wind knocked out of her, a wheeze sounded that was immediately overtaken by a cough from inhaling sand. Despite her hacking coughs that were akin more to breathy gasps, she could immediately clock the shit eating grin that had likely spread over Knox’s features. She wasn’t actually looking at him, but it would be a miracle if he wasn’t reveling in her eating shit. She’d certainly be losing her mind if he had fallen like she had.

Rolling over and spitting out some of the sand that had managed to make its way into her mouth, Sybil shot a pointed glare up at Knox, the smile curving upwards on his lips causing a scowl to form on hers. Without saying a word, Sybil instead opted to kick sand towards him in hopes it might get somewhere rather unfortunate. No such luck was to be had, but it was better than the alternative of her launching herself directly at the Captain with a shriek. She was mostly past that phase.

Mostly.

As Knox blabbered on about clothing and sweating, Sybil just out a low grumble in annoyance and pushed herself back onto her feet. Although they still threatened to wobble and collapse the moment she put weight on them, she refused to go back down once again. She had already learned to walk once as a human, what could possibly be so hard about it now that she was on land? Taking a moment to catch up to Knox as he stopped and observed the humans in the distance, Sybil took a free hand to shake out the sand that had gathered in her hair.

“A dress code?” She scoffed as she squinted against the sunlight, raising a hand up to shield her eyes of the rays. Truthfully, she had no idea what most humans dressed like. She had made the safe assumption that the pirates and princes she encountered were unique exceptions to the average attire. Even now, Knox and her stood out like sore thumbs against the flowing fabrics she could pick up in the distance.

“These clothes you make me wear have been rather restricting and hot,” she added on, waving him off as she began to march onwards towards the storefronts. Though she wouldn’t admit it to Knox, the warm sand on her toes was a bit of a delight. She had never felt sand when it was dry, even when she lugged herself onto land. Going that far up the beach would be an idiotic choice, even for her. However, the sand was soon replaced with the wooden planks of the dock, and the two were soon faced with a pair of armored guards.

Although Sybil made quick work to brush past them, one extended his spear with an over-enthusiastic smile to the duo, despite the frown that was quickly overtaking Sybil’s lips.

“Greetings, travelers! We are proud to welcome you to the Jiuy Isles during our most delightful of festivals. As I am sure you may have heard, our lovely inner port is reserved for those appropriately dressed for the celebrations. Please kindly see yourselves to one of our own many local storefronts located along the pier,” the guard chortled out, his cheeks rosy from the sun. The other guard looked less than enthused, but he held out his spear to block their path all the less.

Before Sybil could spit and hiss on the two like an enraged cat, she instead inhaled deeply and pivoted on her feet. This was fine. She was fine. As idiotic as it all was, she’d rather not get into an argument with Knox over something as simple as an outfit. She had far better things to do in this city.

Without a word to her companion, Sybil began to march in the direction of one of the aforementioned shops that lined the dock like sitting ducks. However, each and every one had already flipped their signs to ‘sold out.’ An exasperated noise left her lips once the duo had passed their sixth shop, her hands thrown up into the air.

“This is ridiculous! Of course every shop is sold out of these inane costumes that they require to enter the city,” she hissed out, pivoting on her heels to point accusingly at Knox, as if he was responsible for their dilemma. As her lips parted to sling out a slew of insults, a loud whistle sounded from across the way followed by a squawk of laughter.

“Darlings! No need to have a lover's quarrel over such a small thing! Come, come! My shop isn’t sold out!” A portly older woman called out, waving over the two enthusiastically. A gasp of offense sounded from Sybil at the mere thought of a lover’s quarrel with Knox, and she shot him a venomous glance before stalking over to the shop owner. Before she could even insult the older woman, a yelp of surprise sounded from Sybil. The store owner had opted to grad her wrist and yanked her inside the shop, immediately blabbering on about the ‘perfect’ look. Not even a word of protest made it from Sybil's lips, and the two were gone in an instant behind a curtain, leaving Knox alone to sort through the remaining festival costumes.

Idle minutes ticked on as silence overtook the shop, allowing Knox to browse the rather…little selection they had left. Although there were several outfits of varying sizes all left for potential patrons to peruse through, they all seemed to be missing a large quantity of fabric. Perhaps there’s a reason this store wasn’t sold out…

The silence was soon broken by a shout of protest that sounded distinctly Sybil-like, followed by the chiding of the shop owner as the curtains were thrust aside to the changing room. A moment later, Sybil stumbled out and nearly crashed into the wall. For once in her life, a pair of short heels were strapped to her feet, leading the former siren to buckle her knees and nearly collapse on the floor.

However, the shoes were the least concerning matter at bay. Gone were Leena’s tailored clothes, instead leaving what could only be described as an impression of an outfit on Sybil. White strips of fabric were delicately and deliberately draped across Sybil's’ frame, leaving little to the imagination, least a gust of wind blew by. Ripped fishing net adorned her legs and arms, though it was hardly the main event. Instead, Sybil seemed to be absolutely dripping in pearls. Strings wrapped around her stomach and shoulders to dangle precariously, while tighter collections garnished her neck and wrist. Several had been braided in her hair, and she even seemed to have managed one glued to her cheek.

Gripping the wall tightly to prevent herself from collapsing, Sybil finally looked at Knox with an unreadable expression. Though it was leaning a bit towards murderous rage.

"Do not say a word."
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she continues to captivate me...
knox.
with knox's assumptions all but confirmed with the guard's instructions regarding the attire necessary to enter the inner festivities, he hummed in acknowledgment and was more than content with letting sybil drag him around wherever she so pleased. he'd already scoured a good number of these shops when they weren't in festival lockdown and deemed them safe for the average adventurer, so letting her feel out the town on her own couldn't pose too much of a risk so long as no drunkards dared to pick a fight.

“darlings! no need to have a lover's quarrel over such a small thing! come, come! my shop isn’t sold out!”


just when their last-minute shopping outlook was beginning to seem rather grim and he feared they'd have to scrap together something on their own, knox's ears perked up at the heroic shop owner's beckoning call, more than grateful for her hospitality despite sybil's offensive remarks about their culture. sybil was quickly whisked away into the dressing rooms before the captain could get another word in, but he trusted she'd be able to handle herself as he browsed the racks patiently in wait. the shop seemed to have been thoroughly wiped out for the most part, save for a few rather scandalous costumes that left little to the imagination. he didn't mind such liberal fashion choices himself, per se, but the idea of sybil willingly donning this style brought a slight smirk to his lips.

the amusement quickly dissipated off his face, however, when sybil stumbled out of the dressing room in even less fabric than he'd pictured, the strings of pearls draped across her body working overtime to resemble proper clothing. she looked nothing like her former self, harsh leathers and bloodied nails replaced by soft curves and unblemished skin, a true imitation of the divine lady of folktales. a woman, brave and committed to her role in spite of her pride or discomfort. his fingers twitched as his side as the brief thought of something unbecoming of his station flashed across his mind.

"do not say a word,"
she warned, as though he might make fun of her for entertaining the nonsensical garb the shopkeeper had thrust upon her small frame.

no such sarcastic quips rolled off his tongue, however, as he instead bit his tongue to hold back a compliment she probably wouldn't appreciate just before it slipped past the filter.
"not even ones of praise?"
he murmured, gaze still boring into her alluring figure for a moment longer and then flicking back up towards her eyes with a mildly glazed expression. she was objectively beautiful, a sight to behold even with the scowl etched into the lines of her face, and he quietly wondered how he was meant to keep himself composed with her occupying his sheets from here on out.

"your turn, handsome!"


before he could dig his grave any deeper, the shopkeeper clapped his shoulder in approval and dragged him off for the same treatment, picking out various accessories and fabrics to layer for his own custom godly look. content with whatever was chosen for him so long as it didn't leave him indecently exposed, she settled on a loose, cream-toned shimmery fabric that extended past his knees paired with a matching scarf draped over his chest. to spruce up the elegance, she clasped a number of pearl and emerald adornments around his neck, biceps, and hands, likely sourced from their own local mines judging by the cut of the gems.

"these are beautiful, thank you,"
a pleased knox thanked the lady as he examined himself in the mirror, already feeling much better now that the stuffy heat wasn't suffocating him through his salonian garb. gaining a nod of approval in return, he emerged from the dressing room and immediately returned his gaze to sybil's eye-catching attire as he reached for his wallet, drinking her in a bit more as he got ready to pay for their costumes before remembering to show his own outfit off to his uneasy companion.

"how hungry are you, sybil?"
he asked her at long last, only looking away to count and pocket his change before extending an arm for her to latch onto lest she trip on the heels she was clearly unaccustomed to as they exited the shop.
"the restaurants here are severely underrated, in my humble, well-traveled opinion, especially if you're still an avid fan of seafood like when we first met."
'plus, sitting might be the safer route for now before you tumble and take both of us down with you—' he didn't dare voice that sentiment aloud.


coded by reveriee.
 
i can't believe i hate a place more than the ship.
sybil.
Hanging her head low, Sybil could only focus on controlling her own breath in an attempt to not rip off every and any pearl that clung to her frame. Her knees were still threatening to wobble and buckle, but the support of the door had prevented any collapse for the time being. Although she had worn pearl strings in her life before beneath the waves, it was never something as intense as…this. She felt like an over-decorated fork at best, and she wasn’t exactly looking forward to the snide remark that would certainly roll off the Captain’s tongue in a matter of seconds.

However, when she finally peaked out from behind her own curtain of hair, it wasn’t a taunting grin slipping across his visage as expected. Instead, his dark eyes were trailing slowly down her form with an unreadable expression. A muttered phrase slipped past his lips as he met her gaze, but she didn’t hear a word of what he was saying. Never in her life had someone dared to gaze upon her in the way Knox was. Much less…a man. For a few moments of antagonizing silence, Sybil simply returned Knox’s stare.

What seemed like hours was finally broken when the shopkeeper enthusiastically whisked Knox away to a similar fate, leaving Sybil to lean against the wall completely by herself now. One hand raised shakily to her own face as heat began to rise to her cheeks, and she let out a weak exhale and slumped further against the wall.

What the hell was wrong with her?

Making no attempt to push herself off her comfortable corner, Sybil could only stare at her feet as the minutes ticked on. The occasional snippet of conversation floated by her ears from the changing rooms, but she hardly tried to listen in. If her mother was able to see what she was up to at the moment, she’d have her flayed and tied to a rock for the rest of the sirens to jeer at. To think that humans willingly paraded themselves around like this to celebrate false deities was mind boggling to Sybil, but it was hardly the most idiotic things humans tended to do.

Finally looking back up from her new pair of shoes when she heard the sound of returning footsteps, Sybil quickly flicked her gaze across Knox. Gone were the heavy straps and leathers of his Captain’s attire, and he instead was adorned in a loose fitting garment that was apt to show off a few of his tattoos. Although Knox didn't hesitate to pull his shirt off at a moments notice upon the ship, she had barely payed attention to the ink that covered his skin. In-fact, she had barely attention to his physique in general. Had he always been this...well built? Her head barely tilted to the side as she continued to watch him, but aptly looked away when his gaze found its way back to her.

Why did he keep looking at her like that?

Letting him speak to the store owner once more, Sybil only returned her gaze to the Captain when he directly spoke to her. A sneer of annoyance crossed over her lips as she noticed his extended arm, clearly in belief that she needed assistance to get out of the shop. His question of hunger was ignored as Sybil pushed herself off the wall to begin her confident march onward and out the shop, only to immediately trip over her own ankle and slam into a display of outfits with a yelp of surprise. Her hands instantly flew up to grip at anything to prevent her face from smashing into the floor, and soon found herself in the arms of Knox once more. *Of course* he had managed to stop her from falling, and a quick glare sent back at him soon had the Captain releasing her with no hesitation.

However, she kept her grip on his arm as she slowly steadied herself off, refusing to comment on her inability to walk on her own as they began their shuffle out of the store.

“I am very hungry because you insisted we did not eat breakfast on the ship today,” she grumbled out, refusing to look at Knox as the two began to make their way towards the actual festival. Although their pace was slow, her gaze continued to wander over all the different shops plastered on the pier strip.

“We shall get food, and then we can discuss actually locating your informant,” she declared, turning to glance up at Knox as she gripped his arm a bit tighter over a particularly nasty section of stones. A small stumble nearly sent her flying, though she managed to stay upright for the time being. The blush on her face, however, quickly became apparent.
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don't laugh! she's trying! (lol)
knox.
“we shall get food, and then we can discuss actually locating your informant.”


"very well,"
knox hummed in agreement of her decision, holding back a smug grin at her resignation to holding onto his arm for support as they approached the festival grounds at long last. though easily misconstrued for disdain, the smile touching his lips as he gazed upon her stubbornness held nothing but endearment for her efforts, a testament to her sheer willpower in the face of the unknown yet again.

when she stumbled yet again, however, an embarrassed flush coating her cheeks at the repeated blunder, knox immediately ditched his plans of finding the best restaurant on the strip in favor of something closer in proximity, his sights eventually landing on a humble family diner that served an impressive array of local dishes. while words of reassurance danced on the tip of his tongue amidst the stifled chuckles in his throat, belated consolation that he likely wouldn't have bade much better in her shoes, he cut them short before they could take form as he preemptvely idetermined she wouldn't appreciate such remarks at the moment.

"this way,"
he beckoned instead, gently tugging her in the direction of the nearby restaurant until the young hostess took notice of them and sprang forward to assign them some available seats. she led the pair to an outdoors table nestled in the shade, an ideal location given the splintering heat of the sun that threatened to cook them alive if they lingered under its lens for too long, and she made sure the wobbly sybil was safely situated before handing them their menus, tossing a subtle wink in knox's direction, and rushing away to attend to the other guests.

finally seated at long last, the captain lazily browsed the diner's selection as his gaze flickered between the menu in his hands (luckily with plenty of pictures depicting their selection for tourists who might not have been familiar with the local script— 'what a relief' ) and the disgruntled yet curious sybil seated across from him.

"looks like this place mostly sells fish and rice dishes— oh, uh, rice is a nutritious grain, that white stuff you see in that bowl over there,"
he explained, jerking his chin towards a nearby table enjoying a meal in content silence, a bowl of steaming rice front and center in their line of sight.
"it says the swordfish is their signature dish, but if there are others that look appealing to you, we can always order more than one. i'm rather fond of everything the jiuy isles has to offer, so..."


he trailed off as his eyes scoured the menu once more, faint pangs of pain in his stomach reminding him that they had, indeed, opted to skip breakfast at his request— one could only maximize their enjoyment of new foods by maximizing their hunger first, after all. hopefully sybil wouldn't hold this grudge against him much longer once their meal arrived and she tasted the island's cuisine for herself.


coded by reveriee.
 
these people clearly don't understand what a swordfish is.
sybil.
Despite her best attempts to keep a firm distance between the two, Sybil had somehow managed to come into contact with Knox more than she had ever imagined. From the moment he threw her over his shoulder to her current pisspoor attempt to walk in heels, she seemed fated to constantly hang off the Captain’s frame in some capacity. It was only weeks ago that Sybil would have been able to break every limb on Knox without so much of a blink, and yet now…Now she was reduced to clinging to his arms lest she wanted to slam face first into the stone road below.

The worst part of it was being able to fill the muscles that defined every inch of Knox. Though she never used to care about such a thing, she was now painfully aware of how easily he could overpower her. He had already shown her once his ability to turn her into a ragdoll, and the thought left a sour taste on her tongue. Despite his cloyingly princely demeanor towards her since that night, it still left her uneasy. It was the same type of strength that only her mother had possessed under the waves.

Shooting a cursory glance up at Knox once again as he lightly tugged her towards their new destination, she simply scoffed and tossed her hair back. Even if she wanted to rip her own feet off to get these blasted heels off, she refused to look incompetent in the presence of Knox. She didn’t need others to assume she was some bumbling village girl, stuck relying on the newest manwhore to roll into town. Though to be fair, she had no clue what woman would actually be interested in Knox in any capacity.

A low growl left her throat, an impressive sound given her now human nature. How long was she to be humiliated like this? Forced to go wherever the Prince himself declared? It wasn’t just because of the heels; It was every day of her new life since she lost her tail. Whatever Knox declared on the ship, his crew nearly ran into each other to complete. And they seemed happy to do it. No siren had ever seemed happy to even be in the presence of Sybil, and yet this bumbling idiot had an entire cohort of admirers.

Watching the woman who sat them wink at Knox and scramble away to do Gods knows what, Sybil affixed a firm frown over her lips. Apparently that was the type of woman who was interested in the man seated in front of her. Rolling her eyes over slowly to Knox as she fiddled with a string of pearls hanging from her headpiece, Sybil just let out another low scoff and waved a hand dismissively.

“I do not need you to explain food to me like I am some child, Captain. You already get the unfortunate pleasure of keeping me upright in these horrendous shoes, so do not push your luck. I am already worn thin by this experience so far,” she mused out, snapping a pearl clean off the string that held it to her head. Holding it up in front of her eyes, she squinted for a moment before unceremoniously flicking it directly into Knox’s face. She then leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she shrugged.

“Get us the swordfish. I have eaten it many times before in my life, it is not a hard catch,” she said dismissively, though she could already feel the saliva building in her mouth from hunger. It had been a while since she had last caught herself a swordfish to consume, and she often took her time ripping through the raw flesh to actually somewhat savor her meal. It was one of the better tasting fish she could find, though their habitats were often swarmed with human fishing boats.

As Knox ordered for them, Sybil just let out a loud huff of air and dropped her chin into her palms as her elbows rested against the table. Although the area wasn’t too crowded yet, more and more costumed folk were starting to slowly appear behind the two as they made their way deeper into the city. Sybil’s gaze silently wandered over them as they marched on, a curiosity that she didn’t seem to hide from Knox. Truthfully, she wasn’t used to curbing any of her emotions around other sirens, given she normally only felt anger and contempt. Now that an odd calmness had washed over her life, it was easy to read any and all emotions that dared to cross her visage. As she continued to watch the crowds saunter by, she didn’t make any eye contact with Knox, though her lips did eventually part.

“Why do you enjoy things like this? Dressing up, pretending? It seems like such a waste of time when men are dying out at sea to sirens every day. Do you truly not care that much?” She prompted, finally shooting a cautious look over to the Prince across from her. The curiosity had faded from her features, instead replaced with a furrowed brow and somewhat pouty lip. A genuine confusion as to why humans would even consider having a festival when others were out dying at sea. Every day under the waves was war to the sirens. The Queen consistently drilled in them to never let their guard down; They had to win the fight against the humans.

“You just seem so…relaxed. All the time. Are you not stressed by the task at hand? What you have to do?”

At that point, the steaming plate of fish was delivered to the two of them, and Sybil immediately transitioned her confused appearance into one of disgust. This wasn’t a swordfish. This was a slab of…flesh. Her eyes darted between Knox and the plate in an aghast expression, before she hesitantly poked it with her finger.

“This is not a swordfish. It is barely the size of a swordfish's ass.”
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coded by reveriee.
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mm, a treat for my eyes and my stomach.
knox.
a fleeting sting of annoyance flared across knox's skull as the offending pearl bounced off of his cheek, landing harmlessly on the ground nearby and subsequently rolling away. he had not been required to act the part of a well-mannered prince for quite some time, and though it came back as naturally as donning a stiff, custom tailored suit, trying moments such as these threatened to hinder his efforts to subdue the foul-mouthed sailor he'd begun morphing into upon taking up a life at sea. how laughable to think that a lifetime of princely etiquette lessons could so easily fall apart in the face of his grim chances of survival on the battlefield all those years ago, he bitterly mused to himself as he took a deep breath to level his mounting blood pressure.

“why do you enjoy things like this? dressing up, pretending? it seems like such a waste of time when men are dying out at sea to sirens every day. do you truly not care that much? you just seem so…relaxed. all the time. are you not stressed by the task at hand? what you have to do?”


leisure. a tricky concept indeed, one that might have been foreign to the weary captain as well had he not taken up his role in the naval fleet at the first opportunity upon returning from war with ascye. he was rather lucky that amelia was more ambitious than himself, as her iron-clad grip on the nobility allowed him to pursue less restrictive ventures at his own pace. still, sybil's quizzical gaze wasn't difficult to fathom given his status as an esteemed prince despite his lax circumstances at the moment— the commoners of salona would likely interrogate him with a similar line of questioning if given the chance.

"i... understand how it looks that way to you,"
he spoke up after a brief moment of silent deliberation as he attempted to string his unorganized thoughts and inherent values together into a coherent justification,
"but what stresses me is not my mission, but the ramifications of returning empty-handed. frankly, i didn't choose this path any more than you chose yours— none of us did."


he leaned back in his chair to drink in the visibly displeased pout on sybil's lips as he explained, prior annoyance rapidly melting away in the face of her admittedly endearing expression at his confusing words.

"this... obsession with purging the sirens... with exterminating their race and killing their queen in the name of vengeance... i don't see how such a mission helps anyone beyond lining the pockets of our weapons manufacturers. there are countless pressing domestic issues eating salona from within, but until the crown is wrenched from that bastard's clutches, my people must continue to send their sons to their deaths beneath the waves..."
a tense pause interrupted his rambling thoughts as a displeased scowl gripped knox's features, unpleasant memories bubbling to the surface before he shook his head and continued,
"so while i detest dealing with that man's dirty work more than anything, i do what i must to stay afloat in the meantime. that's what makes chances like these— where we can escape the fighting, even if it's just for a short while— all the more valuable."


a twinge of melancholy lingered in knox's clouded gaze until the arrival of their aromatic seafood dishes caught their attention, the salivating sight causing the discomfort in his stomach to make its presence known once again and successfully silence the captain's babbling for the time being. much to his famished delight, the swordfish was cooked to savory perfection amidst a tastefully-plated array of roasted vegetables, along with a sizzling bowl of fresh bouillabaisse and crispy, golden yuca fries.

“this is not a swordfish. it is barely the size of a swordfish's ass.”


knox stifled a snort at the disappointed remark that he probably should have expected but took him by surprise nonetheless, prompting him to duck his face to hide the brief flash of amusement illuminating his hazel eyes.
"people usually don't order the whole swordfish at restaurants unless they're malnourished. we can always order more if this portion doesn't satisfy you."


he cared not to wait for sybil's approval before digging into a mussel from the bouillabaisse, the smooth tomato broth rendering a cathartic shock to his senses after weeks of consuming the typical diet. his personal chef aboard the indira was hardly a novice by any stretch of the word, but endlessly consuming the same salonian cuisine quickly proved to be the bane of his existence when embarking on this journey and became one of the primary reasons the crew tended to make so many pit stops in various ports along the way.

with his initial cravings satisfied after scraping out a few mussels to send down the hatch and washing them down with a cold, hoppy lager, knox continued their discussion where he left off prior to the keen waitress' welcome interruption.
"when it comes to dressing up for the sake of partying and pretending to be the folks of legends... well, it's fun, so why not?"
he scooped several of the yuca fries out onto sybil's plate before helping himself to some as well, hardly paying attention to his companion's dietary concerns per her own curt request to not be treated like a child.
"socializing with beautiful people in beautiful clothing is its own class of entertainment, after all, hence why i'm happily putting up with being pelted by pearls in your company instead of getting shit-faced with rafael and the others. your uncomfortable shoes might be overshadowing it right now, but i guarantee you'll understand what i mean soon enough."


the compliments towards her appearance slipped off his tongue as naturally as though stating an objective truth, hardly registering in his brain as anything more than fact despite his usual tendency to grow rather flustered in intimate situations concerning sybil. instead, he continued filling his stomach without a hitch, his relaxed gaze occasionally lingering on her unexpectedly petite form every now and then as he sipped leisurely on his foamy beverage, drinking in the blissful views that surrounded him.


coded by reveriee.
 
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that wasn't a good sign.
sybil.
Staring down at the steaming plate in front of her, the saliva was that pooling in her mouth betrayed the incredulous look on her face. It wasn’t like she wasn’t going to eat it. That would be stupid. But she was mad.

Mad that it was this small and dainty. Mad that Knox seemed so excited to scarf it down. Mad that she didn’t catch it herself, and had to rely on another human to gut and filet it. One hand raised up tentatively towards the plate, before she lowered it back down into her lap. Her gaze darted to the silver utensils sitting next to her meal. Knox had made a point to use them around her in their travels together, but she still opted to simply use her fingers each time. Why bother to make eating more difficult?

Yet, sitting in a space surrounded by other humans all using the cutlery, it felt wrong. Wrong to do what came to her naturally. Her gaze once again flickered up to Knox as she silently reached up from her lap, her fingers haphazardly gripping the fork. It wasn’t elegant or Princely, but she at least was able to hold it. Still, she didn’t make a move to stab her meal yet. She still had to respond to Knox.

"This... obsession with purging the sirens... with exterminating their race and killing their queen in the name of vengeance... I don't see how such a mission helps anyone beyond lining the pockets of our weapons manufacturers. There are countless pressing domestic issues eating Salona from within, but until the crown is wrenched from that bastard's clutches, my people must continue to send their sons to their deaths beneath the waves..."

Pursing her lips into a frown as she stared at him, Sybil seemed to deliberate her words for a moment. The Prince who killed sirens, expressing contempt for his position? For being a killer? It wasn’t exactly…what she had expected. In fact, it was the exact opposite of what she ever expected to hear. What human didn’t want sirens dead? Not a single siren under the waves would show mercy to some idiotic human seeking peace, so what was he implying.

“Perhaps vengeance is not the just motive to you, but the bodies of men that line the seabed are keeping these…festives, safe. For now. Every man pulled under the waves is another casualty in their war. The only thing holding them back from slaughtering every human that strolls down the street is the sea and the fodder between them. If sirens could walk on land…” She trailed off, painfully aware of the irony that only she was privy to. Her fork raised, and stabbed directly into the swordfish piece so she could rip off a chunk for herself.

“There is no winning a war with an enemy that will not compromise. Until the Queen is dead and gone, men will continue to die every time they dare to sail across the sea for a merchant's trade. To visit their families long relocated to another Kingdom. To get away from responsibilities and a heavy burden,” she said, her eyes locked onto Knox as she spoke the last implication. Her lips delicately wrapped around the white flesh of the fish, though she hardly seemed to chew it before she had swallowed the chunk.

“A kind thought like that will end with your heart among the many that are hidden below the shingles of the seabed. Perhaps they will even keep those fancy gold studs in your ears as a memento,” she mused, opting to leave the conversation there for the moment as she fully dug into her meal. It was admittedly far better than any of the raw fish she ripped apart under the sea. Whatever the humans had done to make it taste like this…Perhaps they were good at one thing.

Cooking, and wasting time. Two excellent human pastimes, it seemed.

After wiping her plate clean, she didn’t wait for any confirmation before snatching up the lager that Knox had been happily sipping out. Without much thought, she quickly drained the drink in an attempt to satisfy her thirst. The empty glass was slammed down, followed by a muffled burp from Sybil.

“I need another drink, I am still thirsty,” she commented a moment later, waving a hand dismissively towards his empty glass. Her eyes rolled over to the crowd that continued to steadily increase in size, twisting her lips back and forth for a moment before she rolled her shoulders.

“I hardly see any of your so-called beautiful people. If you wish to actually be pelted with these stupid pearls that woman managed to suffocate me with, that can be arranged. Probably a more enjoyable past time than this,” she assured him, seemingly missing his compliment towards her. Her eyes were instead locked onto the crowd. Although her expression seemed peaceful for the moment, it was clear her eyes seemed to be trailing one individual in particular. There wasn’t anything remarkable about the man or his jester-like attire, the only noticeable thing about him seemed to be the fact that he was walking directly towards him.

Although Sybil didn’t move from her spot, her shoulders visibly tensed as the man looked back drunkenly at his friends and let out a whoop of laughter. However, when the man looked back and made eye contact with Sybil, his face seemed to pale a bit at her expression. He stopped in his tracks, before dejectedly turning back and skittering towards his booing friends. With that, they vanished into the crowd of moving festival goers once again.

A frown continued to etch itself on her face as she turned back to Knox, unsure exactly what had just transpired. It seemed to be a blaring loud warning of what was to come for the two of them once they left the safety of the restaurant.

“How beautiful,” she said coldly, before immediately snatching up the new lager delivered to Knox to down it once more.

Seems like it was about to be a long night.
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coded by reveriee.
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so hot... and i didn't even get to drink my beer...
knox.
"if sirens could walk on land..."


dozens of ideas filled the humanist prince's head once posed with the hypothetical scenario of their marital foes traveling past the shore line and crossing the threshold into manmade civilization. sybil seemed to imply that humanity would be swiftly minced by their hand, the only remaining safeguard holding them back from overwhelming victory at the moment being their inability to breathe above water.

knox, however, wasn't so sure of this conclusion; among their countless vices and selfish aspirations existed an ever-present motivation to survive among mankind, the sort of drive that pooled human wisdom to forge innovation more game-changing than any individual contribution could ever dream to be. sirens were far larger than humans in size, without a doubt— more nimble and aggressive, too— but even a lion may fall prey to a horde of gazelle should it neglect the power of communal effort, a victim of its own prideful solitude under the hooves of the masses.

and after all the fighting had ceased, a canvas of crimson and ash left behind in its wake, the subjugated would evolve to coexist just like every other life form on the planet when confronted with the extent of human brutality. perhaps a few centuries down the line, the two species may even come to share a common language in spite of their ancestral rivalry. the mental image of tossing back beers with a siren's great-grandchild brought a subtle, amused pout to his lips.

his present drinking partner, however, who seemed to have attained that status by inviting herself to his lager while he was lost in his own ponderings, paid him no further attention as her gaze drifted towards the crowd of festival-goers, several of whom were dressed in similar costumes as themselves. their meal had all but concluded with the arrival of their last round of beers, so the captain took it upon himself to fish out a few gold coins— enough to tip generously— and hand it to the keen waitress, who thanked him with a polite curtsy before zipping away once more.

"let's go scout out our informant before it gets too dark,"
he suggested as he rose to his feet, bones popping in a few places after relaxing in an armchair for so long.
"ready?"
he held out a stabilizing hand to help sybil out of her own seat, but quickly lunged forward to catch her again once her stubborn dismissal of his aid predictably resulted in her stumbling backwards towards the table in a repeat of her earlier struggles with balancing in heels. 'don't laugh,' he ardently reminded himself, tongue pressing into his cheek as he lazily scanned her figure to make sure she hadn't hurt herself in the fall— of course, that was the only reason.

between the cascading rhythms of booming steel drums and plucky string instruments and the sweltering sunlight beaming down ruthlessly on their bare shoulders, traversing through the decently-sized crowd became more suffocating of a task than ever for the unprepared, especially those who couldn't see above the heads of the towering islanders and rowdy tourists due to their stature. still, knox did his best to guide sybil through the sea of bodies, keeping his eyes peeled for the telltale signs that they'd arrived at their unmarked destination among the colorful artistic displays plastered across the storefronts around them.

"the alley should be just up ahead, past this block... hm..."
he narrated idly, brow furrowing as he assessed how to best navigate through the densely packed throng of drunk festival-goers dancing in the square before them. should he hoist her over his shoulder and make a run for it? no, she'd surely claw his eyes out before he made it past even a few meters. perhaps their only option was shoving their way through and praying for the best, after all...


coded by reveriee.
 
he's gone. he's gone. he's gone. save yourself.
sybil.
While the hoppy lager wasn’t exactly what Sybil had in mind for a drink, she couldn’t deny how smoothly the drink went down in the heat. Her tongue ran across her teeth in an attempt to relive any of the coolness it brought, but it was long gone and only the bitter aftertaste remained. As her eyes drifted back over to Knox from the crowd, she couldn’t help the scoff that left her throat. She wasn’t mad about anything in particular at that very moment, but seeing Knox seemed to bring out just about the worst in her. Even a polite reminder from the Captain made the siren roll her eyes in annoyance.

As Knox cracked and popped seemingly every bone in his body, Sybil imagined just for a moment she was the one popping them. Perhaps a dislocated shoulder would do the Princely type some good. The fantasy was quickly dashed by her reality, of course, and she was left with the Captain offering his arm once again to assist her in walking. Once again, a scoff sounded from the scantily-clad woman at the offer, and she instead opted to violently shove her chair back and rise to her feet all at once. Of course, this backfired.

Immediately, Sybil felt Knox grip onto her bicep with one hand in an attempt to keep her upright. A snarl of annoyance sounded, but she couldn’t deny the buckling of her knees as he positioned her to stand up properly. Without a word of gratitude, she simply grabbed back onto his arm to steady herself. A red tint spread across her cheeks, though it was hard to truly tell if it was embarrassment or just the sun finally wearing down on her pale skin. Either way, she grumbled out something inaudible to Knox and instead motioned for him to start them on their journey; Since she evidently needed him to do that. However, she took the opportunity to snatch a knife clean off the table as Knox began to lead the two away from their dining experience. If he wasn’t going to let her have a weapon, she needed to get one herself. Without a word, the blade was slipped into the waistband of her skirt.

As the two proceeded deeper into the throes of the festival, Sybil remained uncharacteristically quiet, her gaze raking across the ever growing throng of people. Though those forced in her proximity for the last few weeks might expect a snarky comment to slip free every few seconds at anyone and everyone around them, not a peep sounded from Sybil as she gripped onto Knox’s arm. She had thought the ship was overcrowded with humans, but this…this was something else. Every direction she looked was blocked by some costumed adult pushing through the crowd, laughing like they had nothing to worry about.

Drifting a bit closer to Knox unknowingly, Sybil could only tighten her grip on his arm as a callous individual shoved past the shoulder, eliciting a hiss from the overstimulated woman. How was this a joyful occasion for anyone? The air was ripe with the smell of body odor emanating from every possible way, and someone nearly stomped her toes every two seconds. Knox seemed rather unbothered by the situation whenever she opted to glare up at him. His height certainly gave him the advantage in this situation, and he seemed more occupied trying to find their so-called informant rather than the ever growing crowd around them.

Parting her lips in an attempt to gather his attention for just a moment to tell him it was all too much, instead of a cry of shock sounded out as a large man stumbled backwards drunkenly right between the two. In an instant, Sybil lost her grip on Knox’s arm, and was sent tumbling backwards into the crowd with a terrified shriek. Knox was instantly swept from her view, and a horrified Sybil could only skitter backwards. Immediately her back slammed into the chest of a festival goer, a slew of curses sounding as the man shoved her forward and away. Nearly twisting her ankle on the forward momentum, Sybil could hardly gather her surroundings before a pair of hands joustled her shoulder and yanked her upright once more. Immediately whipping her head to lock eyes with Knox, Sybil was instead greeted with the mug of a stranger. A mixture of horror and anger overtook her features in mere seconds, but the man seemed none the wiser as he shouted backwards to others.

“Finally found an Amalthea! Took me fuckin’ hours!” He yelled out, not even bothering to speak with Sybil as he began to pull her along towards the stage. Others joined around him, casually quipping to each other as Sybil was dragged along. Every fiber in her being screamed at her to fight back. To start screeching her head off and ripping at their skin with her nails. To kick and shove and punch as much as she could to get away. To rip out their throats with her teeth and launch herself onto the next victim who dared to touch her.

But she didn’t. Her legs could barely move as she was helplessly pulled along, her jaw slack in an attempt to produce any noise. Knox was gone. He had left her. This was his entire plan, of course. He wanted to dump her here with who knows what type of humans and go along his merry-way with his idiotic crew. How could she have been so stupid to trust him for even a second?

As the thoughts continued to race through her mind a million a second, she had hardly registered that the man had managed to pull her up onto a rickety stage in the middle of the crowd. Others in various costumes were already lining the creaking wood boards, though the glances they shot over at Sybil showed a clear amount of concern. Apparently, she was starting to look exactly how she felt on the inside. Nothing could be heard over the roaring in her ears, the blood was rising to her face. Everything was hot, and blurry, and she felt ready to collapse onto the ground and throw her guts up. Every face in the crowd seemed to blend together, and her knees threatened to clank against each other in a pathetic display of fear.

As the man who dragged her up began to shout something, he continued to keep a hand gripped onto Sybil’s shoulder. He wasn’t letting go. He needed to let go. Why wasn’t he letting go?

She needed to make him let go.

With a shaking hand, Sybil slowly wrapped her fingers around the handle of the knife she had slipped away when they left the restaurant.

He was going to let go.
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coded by reveriee.
[/border[/b
 
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fu—
knox.
despite the crowd's tendency to twist and surge with each subtle shifting of the breeze, knox became acutely aware of sybil's absence behind him the very moment that her grip was suddenly snatched away from his arm as she dissolved into the masses without a trace.

'shit, shit, shit! where the hell did she go?!'

his wide eyes frantically searched the waves of bodies for any trace of her signature scarlet locks, a gargantuan task given her petite stature amongst towering tourists obscuring the view. still, he finally caught sight of the girl when her apparent captors forcibly dragged her onto the stage, much to his dismay— the incoming series of events could end in many possible outcomes, and almost all of them resulted in the both of them getting permanently banned from the island's festival for the foreseeable future.

the distressed captain couldn't muster a single thought beyond reaching sybil as he shoved his way towards the stage, a difficult task made easier by his battle-hardened build and a lifetime of physical training. once he arrived at his destination, however, what was the plan? yank her off the stage and become public enemy number one for the rest of their stay in isles? the gears in his skull turned faster than his racing heart could keep up, and before he could question the ethics of his impromptu solution to the conundrum before him, his gaze landed on another amalthea lingering a few paces away from the wooden barricade, swaying along to the live music with a euphoric grin on her cherry red lips.

"sir osian,"
she crooned as he approached, a bold hand immediately rising to rest on his chest in anticipation for the incoming act,
"you mustn't—"


knox, however, quickly snatched her hovering fingers out of the air with a soft
"sorry about this, love"
in apology before firmly tugging her along with him towards the front of the stage, though the drunken substitute didn't seem to particularly mind being manhandled in this manner as a rosy hue colored her already flushed cheeks. her manicured fingers latched onto his own until he subtly pushed her forward, presenting her like a sacrifice before an altar as she giggled at the sudden onslaught of attention.

on the other hand, only panic and rage could be detected on sybil's distraught visage when they locked eyes, palpable enough from where he stood several feet below to send a protective pang through his ribcage. she was scared— undeniably so— and he needed to fix that immediately or he may never sleep in peace ever again.

"oh, there you are, babe!"
he exclaimed over the incessant fervor of chatter from the crowd, a practiced, saccharine grin plastered on his lips as all faces in the vicinity swiveled to lock onto his disheveled form. the burly man who'd abducted sybil fixed him with a displeased scowl at the interruption, but the haze that clouded his brain from far too much alcohol consumption seemed to leave him more confused at the situation than anything.

"this lovely lady here was just dying to perform as amalthea— knows the whole script and all— so how about letting her take your place this time, hm? we're gonna miss the honeymoon ferry that father-in-law booked for us if you keep playing around like this, anyways— come on, i'll catch you!"


blinded by the raven-haired beauty suddenly thrust before him, the man insolently clutching onto sybil's shoulder seemed to forget all about his own stunning captive and released her without a second thought, his entire focus now dedicated to coaxing the new amalthea up onto the stage to finish the performance.

knox lurched forward on instinct to soften the teetering sybil's landing should her newfound freedom throw her off balance, his gaze never once straying from hers as he internally pleaded with her to obediently follow his lead for once. as natural as it felt to beckon her towards safety, to extend himself like an umbrella to shield her from onlookers' stares that pierced through like bullets, the sensation coated his heart like rotten molasses and disgusted him all the same; she was no damsel in distress, not in the damn slightest, and he detested the circumstances that dared to paint his dangerous companion in such a light.

'i got you,' he mouthed wordlessly, arms extended outwards without a moment's doubt in his ability to make good on his promise, 'please, trust me.'


coded by reveriee.
 
deep breaths . . .
K&S.
As Sybil coiled her fingers around the wooden handle of the cutlery blade, she had a thousand thoughts racing through her mind that all blended together in a terrifying static buzz. She had never stabbed someone before. Not with a human weapon, at least. She had always simply used her teeth or claws to rip and tear, but now she was forced to rely on a flimsy blade given away to cut through a meal.

But it was still a blade. It could still work if she hit him right in the throat. Humans always seemed to die when their throats were ripped open.

She could do it. She could get away.

Tightening her grip on the knife as the man mimicked his grip on her shoulder, Sybil could feel his hot breath dangerously close to her face. His breath stunk of the drink Knox had ordered, though far more putrid and rancid than the cool drink she had been enjoying only minutes ago. Her lips parted in disgust, but she couldn’t muster a single squeak to come out. It was like her voice had been ripped away from her throat, replaced only by her thundering heart. She needed to end this before her legs gave out, which seemed to be rapidly approaching.

As she moved to raise her arm upward, her gaze instead caught on a figure rapidly shoving through the crowd. A figure she had come rather used to seeing in the last few weeks.

Knox.

As the Captain shoved his way towards the front of the stage, the roaring static in her ears became even louder. He was dragging a woman behind him who was dressed eerily similar to Sybil, but she could barely connect the dots before Knox’s lips were moving with ease. A smile was plastered across his face, but his gaze never left her own. Although she heard nothing he said, she soon felt the grip on her shoulder released.

He hadn’t left. He hadn’t abandoned her.

Without missing a beat, Knox slipped forward to extend his arms towards her. Though she had been unable to hear his words before over the overwhelming noise in her ears, she could easily read his lips now.

‘I got you.’

The knife that she had been white-knuckling clattered to the floor of the stage with little to no fanfare, the man who had dragged her up blissfully unaware of her plot. A wobbling step was taken, Sybil pausing to hesitate for only a moment.

She then leapt, a gasp finally leaving her lips as she slammed into the arms of Knox. Instantly, the roar of the crowd rushed back to her ears, a wrecked sob sounding the moment she felt Knox wrap his arms around her. Her head instantly buried into his neck, one hand gripping the back of his head in fear he may let go. Her legs had finally given out, and she knew damn well if he let go of her at the moment she’d sink to the ground and never get up.

She had failed. She couldn’t handle this many humans at once. She was pathetic.

Another shaky sob left her lips, a refusal to look up at those around her.




In a turn of events that seemed to use up a lifetime’s worth of good fortune, Sybil wordlessly dropped the surprise weapon she’d been concealing from view and hopped into his embrace without complaint, a shuddering sob wracking her body as she clung onto him for dear life now that she was no longer the center of attention. Still shaky and too unstable on her feet to support her own weight, the task of navigating away from the crowd fell onto Knox once again as he scanned the area for an escape route. The inn was their safest and closest bet, a sanctuary away from the public eye where she could recover her composure in solitude while the captain excused himself to wring his hands for putting her in such a dire situation in the first place.

“Good girl,”
he murmured, instantly tucking her against his chest to protect her from the prying stares. With the new plan locked and loaded, Knox tightened his grip around her torso and hoisted her up so her legs could wrap around his waist, allowing her to keep her expression concealed in the crook of his neck while maintaining the appearance of lovestruck newlyweds to any nosy onlookers peering over his shoulder as he pushed through the throngs of festival goers. Guilt permeated every crevice of his conscience with each tremor of her bones while he rubbed comforting circles on her lower back— the poor woman had hardly interacted with anyone prior to arriving on the Indira, much less a bunch of handsy drunkards who cared not to respect the boundaries of women.

Just what the hell had he been thinking, bringing her here?

Shaking off the pessimistic thoughts clouding his mind the longer he ruminated on the topic, Knox kicked open the door of the inn and exchanged a quick word with the receptionist to acquire their room key, an easy interaction with no identification check requirement given his established relationship with the innkeeper from previous trips to the Isles. All but dashing up the stairs to their designated lodgings, he was finally able to set Sybil down on the plush mattress and unclasp her unreliable shoes from her feet once the door clicked shut behind them, fully expecting her to wince away from his touch like usual now that she had space to properly catch her breath.

“Hey, it’s over now,”
he whispered tentatively, lightly caressing the back of her head to try and ease her out of his lap now that they were alone. His mother used to play with his hair when he was little to calm him down whenever panic took control of his reins, and while his temperamental companion was certainly not a child, he believed the familiar gesture might work on her nonetheless.
“Breathe, Sybil. They’re all gone.”





When was the last time Sybil had cried?

Deep beneath the waves, not one person could tell you were crying from tears alone. They’d melt away into the sea surrounding you, never to be seen by even oneself. The only indication that a siren sobbed was the pained expression upon her face. And Sybil had learned at a very young age that such a look would result in severe lashings from her mother. Princesses don’t cry, she’d croon.

Yet here she was, clinging to a human man. Crying and sobbing into his shoulder as he ran his fingers through her hair in what she assumed to be an attempt to pry her away. But she didn’t want to pull away. Hiccups interrupted her sobs occasionally, but Sybil remained planted squarely in Knox’s lap. Her legs still straddled his waist, but she didn’t dare attempt to reposition herself lest Knox witness the tears streaming down her cheeks. The last thing she wanted at this moment was for the Captain to see her wailing and crying like a petulant child. The hand that had gripped the back of his head originally had loosened a bit, but she still kept it firmly planted against his head to shift the locks of hair through her fingers. She needed something between her fingers. Something solid.

She had been around other sirens. She had even seen crowds of them as they tentatively swam around the palace to hear her mothers decrees. She had seen crowds of humans before, swarmed up on their ship as they gazed down at the sirens below them. She had always thought they seemed so far away and small. Unimportant.

Yet when she was shoved and yanked through the crowd, everything came crashing back to her. The clawing sensation of the water in her lungs when her tail was ripped away. Gasping for air and nearly drowning in the waters she used to call home. The fragility of her new body when Knox had grabbed a fistful of her hair, or even when he easily threw her over his shoulder.

Every human in the festival had been stronger than her. They didn’t fear her; They found her appearance amusing, and yanked her back and forth at their own discretion. She couldn’t even walk in the stupid shoes they had strapped to her feet. She was fully and truly pathetic, and she could sense the pity that rolled off Knox every time he glanced at her. Like she was some pitiful and feeble creature that needed to be protected at every twist and turn. She had seen it when he locked eyes with her on the stage. When he had whispered to her just now that the humans were all gone, and she still couldn’t stop shaking.

As her sobs slowly mellowed out into soft sniffles and barely audible whimpers, Sybil continued to idly run her fingers against the back of his neck and through his hair. In a way, she was mimicking his own movements through her hair. Her other hand had been resting against his arm, and her thumb now gently ran back and forth against his forearm. Another sniffle sounded as she slowly turned her head away from the crook of his neck, painfully aware of just how close she was against the Captain. She could feel his chest rise and fall with every breath, the firmness of his arms against her. From her blurry vision, only the underside of his chin was visible. Something she was very glad about. The last thing she needed was to see him gazing upon her like she was some…wounded animal. She already knew her current situation was miserable, but she wasn’t sure how’d she react if Knox decided to gaze upon her again.

“I…”
She said hoarsely, pausing for a moment in shock at the roughness of her voice. She hadn’t expected the sobs to persist in some manner after the tears dried.

“I d-do not understand what happened to me.”





A subtle shudder ran down Knox’s spine at the foreign sensation of Sybil’s fingertips playing with the hair on the nape of his neck, but he suppressed the urge to shift positions while her breathing noticeably evened out at long last. Though she continued to hide her face from his line of sight, she didn’t pull away; on the contrary, she settled in further and took the liberty of exploring his skin with her thumbs from her convenient position in his lap, one he was all too aware of now that the tension had settled somewhat. The gentle notes of herbs, sweat, and the sea lingering on her skin swirled together to create a scent that was entirely human, close enough to effortlessly permeate his senses despite how distant they’d been until now.

“Most likely a panic attack,”
the captain replied, his low tone vibrating through his chest as the hand that was previously combing through her hair slid down to settle on her lower back while the other adjusted the dainty straps of her skirt that threatened to come loose at a moment’s notice should she spread her thighs any further.
“That sometimes happens when we become overwhelmed by our surroundings. I had one on my first voyage before the war— I didn’t know how volatile the waves could become during a storm, and it terrified me to death. I spent the entire first night of the trip curled up in my bunk, praying and crying and struggling to breathe.”


He paused for a moment as he recollected the anxiety and fear within those distant memories, stifling another spine-tingling shudder before continuing to trace patterns along her back and resuming his story without a beat.
“It wasn’t until I could see the daybreak on the horizon that I finally pulled my shit together— embarrassing to admit now that I’ve seen how little time it’s taking you. Made of tough stuff, are we?”



coded by reveriee.
 
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you're not yourself, sybil.
sybil.
As Knox’s deep voice rumbled through his chest, Sybil only angled her head a bit further on his shoulder to study his neck. Curls of dark hair were peaking over the nape of his neck, some slick with sweat from the excursion of carrying her to the inn. As her tears dried and her nose unstuffed itself, she slowly began to catch small whiffs of Knox. He smelled unlike anything in the sea; Akin more to the polished wooden boards of his ship. It was a scent that permeated his sheets and clothes, and although the sweat that glistened against his warm skin attempted to cover up the signature scent, she could still smell him. If she was at her full capabilities, she could only begin to imagine what the Captain truly smelled of.

Another rumble from his chest brought her back to her senses, and suddenly she was far too aware of every single point of contact between the two. One of her hands still lingered against the back of his head, her other one gently tracing against his arm without her knowledge. Her lips were only inches away from his throat, and for a brief moment she envisioned herself sinking her fangs deep into his hot skin. The fantasy ended in a second, her breath suddenly hitching in her throat when she felt one of his rough hands move to adjust the lazy attempt of a skirt she had on.

What the fuck was wrong with her?

All at once, the reality of her situation came crashing back to her. She was practically snuggled away into the arms of the man she intended to kill in a reasonable amount of time, catching her own breath in her throat when he touched her. His other hand was resting dangerously low on her back, and she was painfully aware of the fact that this was the most a man had ever touched her. Anyone had ever touched her.

Yet when he traced another shape into her lower back, she stifled a gasp that threatened to slip from her lips. She didn’t want to admit it, and she never would to him, but it felt nice. She hated that it felt nice. That she wanted to shut her eyes and pretend she wasn’t Sybil, and that she could simply enjoy the embrace of someone who wanted to hold her.

Yet…No one was there but them. She could be that type of woman for a moment. She could let Knox hold her and whisper gently into her ear as he traced more and more delicate shapes into her back, his hand dangerously close to the hem of her skirt. She could trace her hand up his arm along his tattoos, until she was able to part the buttons on his blouse to see the rest of the -

Without warning, Sybil suddenly jerked backwards and away from Knox. Although she didn’t fully disconnect from the tanglement they were in, she did nearly send them both tumbling to the floor backwards. Thankfully, she managed to shift her hand from the back of his head to his shoulder to steady herself with an awkward and violent cough. Not saying a single thing, she swung her leg free from his waist and promptly stood up. A few loose pearls clanked to the ground, finally freed from the tangles of her hair.

Another cough sounded from Sybil as she turned away from Knox, the waistband of her skirt hanging dangerously low on her hips now. Stepping towards the single mirror in the room, Sybil moved into frame of the reflective glass as she began to unhook the necklaces of pearls that threatened to strangle her sooner or later.

As the beads began to fall to the ground with loud thunks, the siren finally let out another rough cough. Her voice was still rough, but a bit better than before. “I feel like I am made of the weakest material there is. I have never in my life…” She trailed off for a moment, her face screwing itself into a frown before her lips parted once more. “I have never in my life felt as helpless as I did at that moment. Every part of my body is weak and fragile, while you seem to have no problem pushing and maneuvering those around you.” Another set of beads thunked to the floor, leaving Sybil is only the crude top and skirt. Her back straightened up a bit, and she simply shifted her gaze to Knox’s reflection.

“Unhook the top. I am done wearing this idiotic outfit,” she commanded, reaching up to brush her thick hair over her shoulder and give Knox access to the clasps.
While she waited for him to remove the garment, her gaze continued to linger on her own form in the mirror. She had hardly looked at herself since she became human, she couldn’t stand the sight before. The lack of gills on her ribs, and the freckles that instead seemed to cover every inch of her body. Not a single scale was to be found on her, instead replaced by the occasional bruise whenever she tripped over her own feet.

“I am not one to be overwhelmed. I do not panic, and I do not…cry. I hated the way you looked at me on stage. Like I was a glass doll about to break at any moment,” she hissed out, her eyes narrowing as she met her own gaze. “And I hate even more that I felt that way. That I was useless, helpless, and pathetic. That I am nothing more than a toy in the eyes of others when I used to be…someone,” she said, biting her tongue at the mention of something related to her past. Perhaps she had let a bit too much spill out.

Once she felt the top loosen, she immediately rolled her shoulders to let the piece of fabric join the pearls on the ground. Inhaling deeply, she set her shoulder back once and turned to face Knox.

She didn’t say anything to him, only barely raising an eyebrow at the Captain.

At least she wasn’t crying anymore.
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this... is hardly sustainable.
knox.
knox blinked several times in surprise when sybil jerked back without a moment's notice, her hand resting on his shoulder for a few seconds to steady herself before pulling away entirely and leaving behind an unexpectedly stark, permeating emptiness in her wake. he'd hardly realized how tense he'd been until his shoulders finally had the opportunity to relax once her nails weren't digging into his skin for dear life, heavy breaths slowing to an even pace despite his hazel eyes never once straying from his unsettled companion.

he quietly listened to the disjointed anxieties that tumbled from her lips as though she was forcibly spitting them out, pondering the brief look into her vulnerabilities that he never dreamed to become privy to given their short history. as much as he wished to comfort her in some way, to soothe her worries and assure her of her own autonomy, he found himself unable to do so; the reality of her situation was just as she'd described, after all, and any attempt to refute such an obvious truth would likely only hinder his credibility in her eyes. she seemed content with simply venting her thoughts into the open air, however, a burden off her shoulders that she'd probably been bottling for a while now if he had to wager a guess.

“unhook the top. i am done wearing this idiotic outfit.”


still ruminating over her frustrated complaints that continued even as he rose to his feet, knox hardly batted an eye at sybil's orders to help her undress and instantly approached to unclasp the metal hooks that secured her costume in place, his adept fingers maneuvering quickly from her nape down her spine until the garment hung open from the back. suddenly aware of his proximity behind her through a quick glance in the mirror, however, the captain's eyes widened and he immediately whipped around to locate a clean change of clothes, offering her some privacy as she disrobed.

how could she be so comfortable acting this brazen before him, especially while they were completely alone in a foreign land? if not for her obvious wariness of his looming stature upon her initial arrival aboard the indira, it may seemed to the captain as though she hardly saw him as an adult male at all. ugh, damn his rotten fortune— he hadn't planned on sharing a room with his dangerously unpredictable consultant in the first place, but given the unfortunate circumstances...

“I am not one to be overwhelmed. I do not panic, and I do not…cry. I hated the way you looked at me on stage. Like I was a glass doll about to break at any moment, and I hate even more that I felt that way. That I was useless, helpless, and pathetic. That I am nothing more than a toy in the eyes of others when I used to be…someone.”


"i understand,"
he muttered over his shoulder as he rummaged through their luggage with a furrowed brow, the only consolatory words he could offer in reply to her woes without incurring the sting of her whip-like tongue. he truly did understand, after all— growing up inside the royal palace had been a rinse-and-repeat cycle of meticulously building up his wavering pride brick by lonely brick only to watch it be trampled helplessly underfoot by someone stronger, braver, more influential than himself until he submitted to their whims yet again, forbidden from taking days off or shedding a single tear lest he exhibit any signs of weakness before those who wished to take advantage of his station.

'aha, found it! a bit large, but it'll have to do.' his scouring gaze finally landed on the spare linen blouse he'd packed on the off chance he needed to switch to fresh attire at some point throughout the festival, now coming in handy until he could find sybil's lodgings and acquire clothes that properly fit her slender frame thanks to leena's sewing handiwork. 'we should stop by a seamstress while we're here, maybe get some sundresses in preparation for the warm season...'

with this litany of thoughts bouncing around his brain and the clean garments in hand, knox turned around once more only to come face-to-face with sybil's nude bosom, a sight that stunned him into frozen silence for a long moment before he came to his senses. she was obviously quite well-endowed, as one could surmise from her figure in the costume she'd been wearing, but the shamelessness with which she cocked a brow at him as though he was the odd one for not taking such behavior in stride derailed his train of thought just as quickly as it had formed.

well, sure. fine. whatever.

his bewildered stare landed first on her face, then her exposed chest, and then back to her face... a subtle swallow, only perceptible from the shifting of his adam's apple as his pupils gave away nothing, and then...

and then nothing— he tossed the oversized shirt directly towards her torso, covering her face and chest as it landed on her head and smothered that smug expression of hers in one swift motion.

"you should stay in for tonight. i can meet the informant on my own,"
he deflected, his gentle voice taking on a more gruff tone than usual as he ran a mildly agitated hand through his hair. though sybil seemed to be an expert at putting on an air of indifference whenever her discomfort threatened to put her at a disadvantage, such a base tactic would hardly work on the captain after witnessing her breakdown firsthand just minutes prior.
"i'll leave some coins in the nightstand for dinner whenever you start feeling hungry, so get some rest."



coded by reveriee.
 
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why can't i stop? why do i need him to understand?
sybil.
When the Adam's apple shifted ever so slightly on Knox’s throat, Sybil’s eyes immediately darted to the movement. As much as the Captain liked to pretend that she didn’t get under her skin, the subtle shifts in his behavior weren’t lost on the siren. Although this human form wasn’t exactly ideal compared to her true appearance, she knew some…aspects of her still remained appealing. Tilting her head ever so slightly as she continued to watch Knox, her focus on his visage led to a squawk of surprise when the shirt was promptly thrown over her head and chest. Immediately pulling it down to shoot a glare at him worth a thousand words, she opted to simply cradle the garment against her chest as he began to prattle on about the informant. He seemed annoyed. Good.

"You should stay in for tonight. I can meet the informant on my own.”

A scoff of disapproval loudly sounded from Sybil, who immediately used the shirt to whip at his arm in defiance. The skirt she still wore clanked with the few remaining pearls, and she moved to toss the shirt over the mirror for a moment to fully shimmy out of the remaining costume. All while chastising Knox.

“Stay in? Meet the informant on your own?” She hissed out as the skirt fell to the floor, leaving Sybil completely in the nude. She opted to snatch up the skirt and hurl it at Knox, though the fabric quickly lost momentum as it fluttered against his side. Tossing her hair back with an annoyed grunt at the lack of damage, Sybil turned away from Knox to pick up the shirt once more.

“You dragged me out into this awful place, made me wear this terrible outfit with those…shoes, and now you wish for me to simply stay here all alone at night while you run off to gather information I should be privy to?” She snarled out, tugging the skirt on and over her precious assets. At least Knox didn’t have to stare at quite literally every part of her now. The shirt was thankfully long enough to fall down to her mid-thighs, though she was playing a dangerous game using it as a dress. Moving to pull the thick locks of hair out from the back of the shirt as she turned around to face Knox, the anger on her face was palpable. Gone were the tears and blubbering sobs of only mere minutes ago, leaving a familiar pissed off expression on Sybil’s face.

Her arms crossed under her chest, and she stared at Knox in silence for a few more moments, before she began on her tirade once more. She was almost like a wind-up doll, raving and running until her little key needed to be spun again to keep going. Unfortunately for Knox, it seemed like her key was rather quick to wind at the moment. Perhaps she was overcompensating for the emotional moments only a bit ago.

“I am going with you if you like it or not. Why must you be the one to make all these decisions, Prince?” She growled out, now taking a moment to step forward and punctuate her point with a jab at his chest. All the fear and sadness she had felt only a few minutes ago had evaporated, the steam of it all fanning into a rage she seemed unable to control. A red hue was starting to spread on her cheeks, a flush color she was unable to control. Reaching up to quickly feel her own cheeks, she let out another groan of frustration. She had always felt rage under the sea. It was always bubbling beneath the surface, a constant reminder of her position in life. Her inability to relax and let go. But she was always able to keep it under control. Now, it was boiling over and spilling like venom from her lips. Once she started, she couldn't stop.

“I am tired of this. I am tired of being treated like I am incapable of adapting because I do not know what you know. I do not want to be coddled like a child who is afraid of their own shadow. I…” She finally took a moment to breathe, pressing her lips into a thin line as several thoughts raced through her head.

‘I’ve killed a man before. I’ve killed many men before. I know more than you think I do, but I don’t understand your culture. I have to be ignorant. I almost killed you before. I want to kill you again. I want to kill my own mother and become Queen. I’m not human. I’m not like you. I miss having power. I hate myself. I hate where I am. I hate that I am weak and small and no one fears me anymore.'

But she didn’t say that to Knox. There’s only so far his sympathy would extend, and the Princess of Sirens certainly wasn’t in that range.

So she just stared at him, a look of confusion and anger etched into her visage.

“I want to be treated like I am capable. I am capable. I just need…I just need time. Time we do not have, but time I need. I want you to look at me like I am not a pitiful little creature who needs your guidance or big strong muscles to hold. I just need…” She trailed off, her hands raising up as she bit her own lip hard, her eyes darting to the side as she felt the familiar sting of tears welling up.

Why was she getting so emotional? Why did she want Knox to view her differently? To gain his approval? Was this some burden of humanity?

Staring to the side for a moment as she attempted to quell the hot tears before they threatened to spill down onto her cheeks, she finally returned her gaze to Knox with much difficulty.

"I do not know what I need," she finally admitted, her gaze darting down to the ground once more. It was a lie, and an obvious one at that. But whatever she was holding onto, it wasn't for Knox to know yet it seems. She couldn't handle spilling anymore of her guts out. Not with the way he looked at her.
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coded by reveriee.
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finally, some honesty.
knox.
a heavy silence settled across the captain's agitated shoulders as sybil talked herself into a frenzy upon hearing his suggestion, her bottled frustrations pouring out one by one until she was left with nothing but a pool of forgotten, wayward pearls and her own tangled ruminations. deeming it too inappropriate to let out, he bit back a relieved sigh at the inevitable scene; he'd have to be blind or willfully ignorant to not notice that she had been holding back her true thoughts for quite some time now, and while it didn't feel particularly nice to bear the brunt of whatever objects she decided to hurl his way in the process, if directing her anger and helplessness towards her sorry circumstances at him was the only way to vent them without her ego getting in the way, then so be it.

"I do not want to be coddled like a child who is afraid of their own shadow... I want you to look at me like I am not a pitiful little creature who needs your guidance or big strong muscles to hold..."


had he really been coddling her this whole time without his knowledge? though it was undeniable that there was much sybil had yet to experience regarding the customs and societies that govern their world, knox had been under the solid impression that she was adapting at a remarkable pace due to her natural wit and intelligence, and thus he felt comfortable enough to bring her along to this festival where a number of unpredictable factors could throw a wrench in their plans. when he considered the last several hours from her point of view, however, he could somewhat understand how the combination of physically impairing garments and uncalled-for mental distress might give rise to such feelings of inadequacy and spite.

contrary to her accusations, he did not care to fret over her after throwing her in the deep end anymore than he did up until now, nor did she seem to desire that from him either. still, his eye twitched at the subtle welling of tears in her ducts, tears that she refused to let spill despite shamelessly dampening his shoulder just minutes prior. she reminded him of his volatile sister at times like these, too prideful to rely on those with power when she had none of her own yet steadfast and grounded in her convictions; it was the air of a trailblazer, a budding revolutionary just waiting for the tides to turn in their favor before striking out and parting the seas by force.

"if i hadn't deemed you capable, i would have left you in detainment back at fort sasa like all the other sly bastards that try to stowaway on my ship,"
knox began after a beat of thoughtful silence, his tone controlled yet just barely masking the ounce of offense he'd taken at her pessimistic appraisal of his perspective as he dared to move a step closer to sybil.

"you think i see a 'pitiful little creature' when i look at you?"
another step forward, his head tilting down to look her square in her defiant, crystalline eyes.
"you constantly watch, and you observe, and you turn those observations into calculations— careful adjustments to fine-tune your charade at a speed that terrifies me. i cannot let my guard down around you for even a second, and yet i still choose to, every damn day— do you know why, sybil?"


his gaze flickered downwards for a split second before his calloused hands rose to button the dress shirt that draped loosely over her frame, languid in his movements as he continued with a furrowed brow.
"you have nothing to your name right now, not even a single bronze coin, while i can alter your fate on a whim with a single word to my men— tempting, isn't it? the influence of an imperial prince?"
a hint of bitterness tainted his calm tone as he spoke of his exalted station, but he opted not to elaborate further on that particular topic of interest.
"if you covet that kind of power for yourself, then you must use me without shame or remorse or disdain— for as long as it takes you to stand on your own two feet, i'll allow it, so stop pushing me away. there is no weakness in using the resources at your disposal."


with the buttons securely fastened in place, knox stepped away from her immediate vicinity and admired his handiwork, a small nod of approval despite his serious expression the only indication that he wasn't entirely put off by her hostile behavior before he removed his own pearls and changed into a comfortable tank top to sleep in. he still had a mission to accomplish tonight whether his consultant cared to cooperate or not, and placating her unpredictable temper was a task that seemed to come more naturally to him as of late.

"and if you can't accept that,"
he added, running an exasperated hand through his tousled hair as he flopped back down onto the mattress to rest his weary legs after lugging sybil up two flights of stairs,
"then just think of this as an investment— your expertise is only useful to me as long as you're alive enough to offer it. it’s in my best interests to make sure you can keep up.”



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Vlákas.
sybil.
When the sting of the hot tears threatening to spill from her eyes finally subsided, Sybil was left with a seemingly frustrated Knox. Though he was one to control his emotions well, he wasn’t perfect. His tone remained rather controlled, but the hints of agitation were begging to be released. A desire she knew far too well.

Unlike her, however, Knox was able to keep a leash on his less than savory emotions. Something a Prince ought to learn the moment he can babble. As he took a step closer to her, Sybil opted to only tilt her head a bit back to keep her gaze locked onto his. He was so much taller than her, but it didn’t bother her all too much in the moment. All she could think about in the moment was holding back her innate desire to claw and rip. To tear through her situation and flee back under the dark waves.

It would certainly make her life much easier if she opted to drown at this very moment, rather than actually confront her inability to process her own emotions in the phase of the Captain.

"You constantly watch, and you observe, and you turn those observations into calculations— careful adjustments to fine-tune your charade at a speed that terrifies me. I cannot let my guard down around you for even a second, and yet I still choose to, every damn day— do you know why, Sybil?”

As Knox took another step closer to her, Sybil could only barely hold her bottom lip from quivering into a snarl. She refused to break eye-contact first with Knox, instead letting out a less than subtle hiss when he began to button up the shirt he forced onto her. In the past few hours, whatever physical barrier she had worked so hard to establish between the two had been ravished and razed to the ground. He didn’t seem fearful to grab at her, and why should he? She was practically a ragdoll in his arms when he truly desired. It was the same conundrum she kept revisiting; How was he so similar to her Mother, yet so different? That type of strength was often used to lash and beat her, yet with Knox…He used it to carry her off and away from crowds, and to button up her top.

Yet she couldn't ignore his words, either. Was he simply blowing smoke up her ass in an attempt to quell her tantrum, or did some part of her truly terrify Knox? Did she want Knox to be terrified of her? The Siren in her screeched and bellowed that he should be shaking in fear anytime he sees her, but the very human part of her in this moment didn't want the only person in the world willing to speak with her to be...scared of her. What was wrong with her, still?!

"You have nothing to your name right now, not even a single bronze coin, while I can alter your fate on a whim with a single word to my men— tempting, isn't it? the influence of an imperial prince? If you covet that kind of power for yourself, then you must use me without shame or remorse or disdain— for as long as it takes you to stand on your own two feet, I'll allow it, so stop pushing me away. There is no weakness in using the resources at your disposal."

With that statement, Knox opted to step away from Sybil and work on removing his own costume. Sybil, however, remained rooted in place. Her jaw had worked itself into a tense line, and she was tempted to grind her own teeth back into sharp points just to snap at his hands. She hated when that bastard was correct. Of course she coveted that type of power. It was the power she had been gifted for the majority of her life, only for it to be snatched away alongside her form in the last month or so. Meanwhile, Knox was willingly stepping away from the power and opulence for as long as he pleased. The power was still available to him, but he was lazy about it. He was confident about it.

Chewing her own lip as she watched the Captain throw himself back onto their singular mattress with a rather loud thump, Sybil could only roll her eyes up to the ceiling. The entire time Knox had pressed close to her, she had been digging her fingernails into the palms of her hand. She wouldn’t be surprised if crescent divots were etched into her skin, a physical reminder of her own temper.

Letting out a loud groan of annoyance, what followed next was a rapid hiss of words in a language Knox had only been privy to once so far from the woman.

“Se apothísei? Tha éprepe na se spróxo éxo apó to kataraméno paráthyro, prínkipa ton skatá. Eísai tycherós pou eímai exantliménos kai pou écheis pei káti,” Sybil snarled out a slur of words in the siren language, throwing her hands up in exasperation as she did. As she continued to mutter out whatever she desired, she moved over to the bed and threw back any sheets that Knox wasn’t weighing down.

With a final grumble of annoyance. Sybil tossed herself into the bed next to the Prince and pulled the thin blanket up and over her chin.

“If you wish to be used so badly, Captain, that can be arranged. Wake me when you leave.”

With that, Sybil closed her eyes in an attempt to finally sleep off this exhausting day.
  • outfit


coded by reveriee.
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it's every damn day, isn't it? bloody hell...
knox.
as the tangerine glow of the setting sun faded behind the horizon and the bellowing chortles of drunkards stumbling down the streets ceased at last, the only obstacle standing between the lucid-as-ever knox and a sneaky escape into the night came in the form of an encroaching arm draped across his midsection after sybil seemed to have grown all-too-comfortable with physical touch in the span of one evening. prying off her skinny limb wasn't a tall task, however, as she showed no signs of returning to the waking world anytime soon, and with a quiet sigh of relief the captain slipped into an appropriate shirt, holstered his trusty dagger and revolver, and slipped out of the hotel suite with a soft click of the doorknob.

although he'd made a big show earlier of emphasizing how capable sybil had become in such a short period of time, bringing her along to this meeting in particular still didn't seem wise to the captain when he considered her volatile temper and complete lack of etiquette when negotiating her terms. this informant was a high-ranking individual after all, a secluded royal lost to time and circumstance— he would allow no errors, lest this rare opportunity slip through his fingers for good.

'westward until the laundromat is out of view, and then immediately turn northeast...' flickers of map fragments previously committed to memory flitted through knox's brain as he navigated towards the designated meeting point, a winding journey through countless daunting, unmarked alleys that hardly resembled their daytime festivities.

as he rounded the bend just shy of approaching the street towards his final destination, however, the hairs on his nape suddenly stood on end to signal the presence of someone rapidly approaching. he whipped around on pure instinct, instantly locking blades with an agile man clad head-to-toe in black mercenary gear who hadn't made a single sound in his approach.

an assassin. knox gritted his teeth at the bitter realization of having been followed yet again— to an unscheduled vacation spot, no less— but he didn't have the chance to ponder any further than that before his assailant lunged forth once more, nearly landing a slash on his shoulder with the tiny blades he expertly wielded between his knuckles.

the revolver sat heavy in its holster against the captain's hip as he deftly parried each of the assassin's strikes with his dagger, but resorting to gunfire would alert the entire neighborhood of his presence, a costly disadvantage that could very well jeopardize his entire mission.

'no, don't be hasty— this fighting style is not unfamiliar...'

though roguish in technique and adapted to accommodate his unconventional weapons of choice, this mercenary was no doubt a lifelong practitioner of kali, an intimidating school of martial arts that knox had carefully studied in his youth and the signature fighting style of a specific class of fighters that hailed from surannam. this man was almost certainly udrari— so what business could he possibly have with the wanderer captain of the indira?

"argh!"
the assassin cried out in pain as knox's dagger finally connected with a vital point along his collar, his gloved hand flying towards his neck to try and quell the sudden well of blood gushing forth from the wound. such efforts were for naught, however; with one more definitive slash across his throat, the assassin ceased breathing altogether, crumpling to the ground as the life faded from his bloodshot eyes.

panting to catch his breath now that the confrontation was over and he was no longer in danger, knox's gaze zeroed in on a dingy necklace that had come loose from where it had been originally tucked into the assassin's vest, carefully hidden away from sight. crouching down to get a better look, his blood ran cold at the familiar symbol of a gold locust engraved on the onyx medallion, a distinct icon that no politician of salona could ever claim ignorance towards if they truly valued their life.

'swarm.' a covert, underground terror guild that dabbled extensively in violent, illegal practices, as well as the original founders of the infamous assassin's guild, ruche. their presence here could mean countless things for the captain, but he could be sure of one thing at least: his assailant was an udrari immigrant to salona who'd found refuge from his father's tyrannical reign under swarm's banner of outcasts.

"fucking hell. fuck me,"
knox groaned in exasperation, begrudgingly snatching up the medallion and pocketing it to examine later when he had the time to ruminate deeper on such grand political machinations. a thorough search of the assassin's pockets yielded no further clues towards his purpose for attacking the captain in the jiuy isles, so he opted to deposit the body in a nearby dumpster before continuing on his way, nose wrinkling in dismay at the tiny dots of blood littered across his sleeves from the tussle. for the sake of appearances before a royal, he rolled them up and resumed his trek without a second thought.

at long last, knox found himself standing in front of the steps of a dilapidated building that stood out in no way whatsoever, quite easy to miss among the flashier establishments flanking its sides without a single sign indicating its purpose beyond its name:

"the smoking censer... right..."


given that the pre-ordained hour of their meeting had already arrived, he wasted no time in stepping foot inside and examining the hole-in-the-wall bar abundant in furtive glances and hushed whispers. the hostess seemed to recognize the captain at a glance from his attire, saving him from any awkward pacing as she wordlessly beckoned him forth and pushed aside a curtain hiding a passageway towards the back end of the building where a single meeting room was lit up amidst the shadows.

it was in such a crude, yet inconspicuous pocket of the tropical city that knox finally laid his eyes on the ghostly pallor of princess inessa solovyova, the missing eldest child of glaesia's royal family.

"well met at long last,"
he greeted without reservation, his tone casual and amicable save for a small bow of the head customary for salonian commoners when handling important clients.
"this tavern suits my tastes rather nicely— a shame i don't have long to enjoy it. shall we get right to business, then?"



coded by reveriee.
 
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no such thing as a benevolent royal . . .
K&S.
For Sybil, becoming human quite literally ruined every part of her. At least, in her opinion it did. Everything was far harder for her, except for a singular task.

Sleeping was suddenly her expertise.

Sleeping as a siren was somewhat of an annoying task. She didn’t often need to do it, and when she did she never truly dozed off more than an hour or so at a time. Why put yourself in such a vulnerable position? Completely unconscious to the world around you? And forget having any dreams, that wasn’t something sirens could even conceptualize.

Yet as a human, shutting her brain off for several hours in the plush pillows of Knox’s bed had quickly become her favorite activity. There was no need to ponder and worry about whatever the hell was going to happen when she could just…not think. Although she had begun to experience dreams herself, they were often nonsensical in the moment and an afterthought by the time she roused herself awake.

This time, however, was a different type of nonsensical.

As Sybil drifted into sleep next to the stiff form of Knox under the pretense of being awoken in a few hours, she found herself seemingly awake a moment later back on the ship. The fluffed pillows surrounding her head indicated she was in Knox’s room, but when had they gone back on board? They were supposed to be doing something …Something on the isle.

The heavy fog continued to dance around her mind, and only an exhausted sigh could escape her lips. It was quickly replaced by a small gasp, however, as a burly arm snaked around her waist. Instantly, she was pulled back and against the firm chest of someone, though she had no idea who it could be. Had someone broken into Knox's room? No, that couldn’t be…

Just as quickly as the thought of an intruder entered her mind, it slipped away with a content sigh as she felt the individual behind her nuzzle against her neck with an array of gentle kisses. She could feel herself melting against them, the warmth so real and close. Who cared about killing her mother, or even Knox for all that mattered? This was a far more enjoyable use of her free time.

As she closed her eyes again and angled her neck a bit more to let out a soft giggle, she could feel the chest of the man behind her rumble with a low laughter. His lips ran against her ear, and the deep voice of Knox rang out.

“Good girl.”


With a loud gasp Sybil shot up in the inn bed with a start, a hand reaching up to grip at the front of her shirt as she tried to even out her own breathing. Her head was spinning, and she was acutely aware of the ringing that was making itself present in her ears.

A dream.

She had been dreaming.

About Knox.

A slight dry heave sounded from Sybil at the mere replay of what had just been occurring in her mind, an image that refused to slip away like any other dream. Seemed like her brain was purposefully burning it straight into her memory, as a painful reminder of the worst possible thought to have.

Without a second thought, Sybil whipped to the side to slam her hand in what would hopefully be the stomach of Knox. Instead, however, she hit nothing but the empty mattress. Blinking slowly as her eyes fully adjusted to the dark room, she quickly realized she was alone in their small corner of the inn.

That fucking bastard.

Instantly throwing the blanket off of her and leaping to her feet, Sybil let out a growl of annoyance, lacking any of the sense to make a more human noise. That stupid bastard of a Prince decided to leave her behind. Still. Even after he went on his whole little spiel! She should have expected it, though. All Princes were good at blowing hot air up each other's asses. She just happened to be the unlucky victim of Knox this time.

And she had been DREAMING -

Letting out a sharp exhale and rotating herself to face the bed again, Sybil ran her hands across her face and into her hair in an attempt to calm herself. She didn’t know how long he had been gone, but perhaps she could still catch him somewhere nearby. She wasn’t exactly sure how she was going to deal with him once she did get a hold of his ass, but she certainly wasn’t getting anywhere growling around their tiny room.


Taking only a moment to properly button up the oversize shirt Knox had forced her to wear, she opted to treat it like a dress rather than an attempt to shove herself into his pants. With that, the door to the room shut and Sybil was moving rapidly down the stairs and out onto the street below in hopes to catch Knox lurking around somewhere. Unfortunately for her, she was far too late to stop the Prince.




Inessa Solovyova was not known for her kindness. Truthfully, she wasn’t known for much to the majority of the world. She was an enigma of a woman, shrouded in a mystery that the royal family of Glaesia worked tirelessly to maintain in her absence. While they didn’t seem all too concerned about expending resources for her wellbeing, they had a reputation to uphold, and Inessa wandering free and spitefully was a looming threat over their head.

Natasha on the other hand, was a feared woman with a reputation that would outlive her. One doesn’t become the best info broker across the seas by asking nicely. You do so by blackmailing every and any duke or duchess you can get your hands on. Work your way up to haughty Princes who think they’re too good to die.

Staring at the visage of Prince Cecil Asquith Piermont, who had just sat down across from her, Natasha only tilted her head and offered the tiniest of smiles. Her pale lips had been painted a deep and dark red, a stark reminder of how pale Glaesia bloodlines tended to run. He was, of course, straight to business. She had hardly had the chance to request an audience with the famed Prince-Turned-Pirate, but he had sought her out.

And she had a pretty good idea about what he was seeking.

“Cecil, please. What is the rush? Have you got somewhere to run off to? Perhaps someone?”
She jested lightly, waving a hand in the air. Immediately, a pitcher and two chalices were delivered to their table, and she moved to pour herself a hefty glass of a dark red liquid.

“Truth be told, dear, I never expected you to require my aid. You seemed to have adapted well to the life of a pirate rather than a Prince. The escapades of Knox Foreman are always well at captivating audiences here. A rather dashing gentleman, slaying sirens across the sea for the glory of his kingdom…”
She sighed softly, moving to take a sip of her drink.

“Something tells me they are a bit…exaggerated, however. Something tells me the Prince who gave up the throne isn’t looking for any glory in his homeland,”
she mused, training her eyes on Knox with a saccharine grin.

The captain’s polite smile faltered ever-so-slightly at the calculated inclusion of his birth name, finding it sudden but not entirely unexpected of the infamous knowledge broker to dismantle his facade so readily. Not one for keeping her cards close to her chest if intimidating shows of force were more productive towards her goals, it seemed. A respectable approach, but not to his tastes— he’d keep his own intel under lock and key until the most opportune moment.

“My, they say I’m dashing?”
he mused in response, pouring a glass for himself but not moving to take a sip until the princess swallowed hers. As part of his painful childhood regimen, he had trained his body for years to grow a tolerance to milder poisons precisely for situations like this, yet he had little reason to suspect that Natasha would benefit from his death in any capacity. A prince of Salona had far more to offer than his corpse, after all.

“Glory… I must have spent my entire youth searching for the appeal.”
As the wine deliciously coated his tongue and the topic shifted to more personal themes, Knox sat back in his chair and got a good look at the princess. Stunning beyond compare yet eerily ghost-like, her frigid temperance pierced the stiff humidity like icicles, the kind of daunting beauty that wordlessly raised goosebumps. In his eyes, her numerous siblings shared little of the regality she emanated with every pointed look.

“Rather than casting shadows, I prefer to become one. Things get done much faster that way, wouldn’t you agree?”
His eyes twinkled with mischief, alight with the possibility of knowing more than he let on but letting those suspicions settle within the crevices of his ambiguous replies— a harmless litmus test of his own to gauge in what light the astute princess viewed the empire’s unbridled former crown heir.

Tilting her head ever so slightly, Natasha simply placed the glass back down in front of her and leaned back in the chair. Her fingers laced together, and she rested them against her stomach in a casual manner. Yet every moment was perfectly calculated. Even the drink was placed directly in the middle of the table, not a centimeter off to the side.

“I do not need to be a shadow, Cecil. I have men for that,”
she replied with ease, her head remaining tilted at the Prince. The smile had faded from her lips as she spoke, and she was now assessing him like a new toy. How easily it would withstand rough play, if any at all. She wasn’t an idiot; She could tell he was probing at her. Perhaps a bit too early, in her perspective.

“You didn’t come here for one of my better wines and idle conversation, we know that much. We ought to stop dallying around what you need, or your little companion back at the inn might get lonely. She had quite the scare today at the festival, no?”
Natasha offered, returning the smile to her lips, though the motion didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Knox smiled gently as the princess berated him without missing a beat, addressing the easily placated pushover she expected him to be rather than the true, autonomous him— her sorry excuse for an answer to his prodding was evidence of that enough. How nearly he pitied her… was there any shadow deeper or darker than those cast where nobody could see them, tucked away into the recesses of memory? Well, no problem, since he got his answer, anyways. He could grin and bear being treated like a witless fool any day of the week; all the more cathartic was the payoff when enlightenment struck far too late.

Still, her flippant mention of Sybil brought a subtle tension to his jaw, given that they’d only just arrived at the Isles that morning. Natasha’s informants were no doubt crawling across the entire festival, watching them from start to finish, and the debacle from earlier was witnessed by no small number of onlookers— did they assume that she was his lover, or someone equally important to him?

“You’re right,”
he acquiesced easily, the polite smile dropping from his lips now that the niceties had been laid to rest,
“I came here to consult your services, as well as offer mine. I am searching for the siren queen’s Second Eye— I trust you know full well what that is already.”


Keeping the smile plastered to her lips once Knox opted to drop his own pleasantries, Natasha hummed thoughtfully and tilted her head back in an act of contemplation. Her fingers unlaced from their position against her stomach, and she rolled her head back forward as she leaned towards Knox. Now propping her chin against her palms, she let out a small but calculated giggle.

“Cecil, darling, what makes you think I know of a fantasy item? While I do admit that not many have heard of such a tale, I’ve been long aware of the story due to my position here. Are we truly supposed to believe the rambling of sirens, crying about some Goddess and a hidden Second Eye that will defeat their entire species? This is a bit pathetic, even for you.”


Offering another sharp smile, Natasha simply reached for her wine once more and took a long sip.

Though annoyingly cryptic and ostensibly useless on its own, her answer all but confirmed that she did, indeed, know exactly what he was referring to— and if the playfulness with which she danced around the topic was any vague indication, she likely knew plenty more than just a mere affirmation of its existence above the surface.

“I didn’t peg you as a skeptic, Natasha,”
Knox drawled as he leaned forward as well, meeting her unwavering gaze and calling her name in that same mocking, saccharine tone she seemed so fond of. He despised dealing with people like her, those who only knew how to utter false promises and hide their agendas behind carefully crafted personas, but he was hardly inexperienced.
“Tell me, then: whose word am I to believe but the sirens themselves? Especially when one of them has already shown me what the object I seek looks like.”


The captain had no intention of showing her the drawing nor of describing its appearance without gaining anything in return, but presented with the knowledge that he already had a credible lead on the Second Eye, he hoped to deter her from providing him false information that could easily be disproved with a single glance. Her callous eyes were empty and calculating but certainly not foolish; selling him fabricated intelligence at the risk of her long-standing credibility would make her no wiser than the common shyster.

“But it’s a shame,”
Knox hummed in solemn acceptance, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he cocked his brow and took another swig from his glass.
“Though I have much to offer that could be of benefit to you if we made a deal tonight, I suppose it can’t be helped if you aren’t interested in entertaining fairy tales.”


At the mention of a siren showing Knox exactly what he desired, a small tick crossed over Natasha’s jaw. It was barely noticeable, but any movement outside her otherwise pristine facade was enough to give Knox the smallest of advantages.

“So the siren hunter has managed to befriend a siren. I’m surprised the beasts could even form words outside their hideous language,”
she mused, opting to lower her gaze down into her chalice, peering at the remaining red liquid.

“What could you possibly offer me in return for this information, Cecil? I’m sure you’re perfectly aware that such rumors wouldn’t originate from dirty sea urchins. We’re looking at your kind, darling. Royalty.”


“Ah, you finally dare to speak of royalty,”
Knox hummed as her picture-perfect facade began to slip, pleased to have gotten under her skin albeit a near-negligible amount. While he hadn’t planned on revealing his familiarity with her lineage if he could’ve avoided it, the time had come to lay some of his cards out on the table and get down to business before dawn arrived. Who knew what Sybil would do if she awoke to an empty bed, only to find that he’d proceeded without her? He nearly shuddered at the thought.

“What could an exiled princess-in-hiding whose name has probably already been smudged out of the Glaesia family tree possibly stand to gain from an imperial prince of Salona? I sure do wonder…”
Gold, connections, safe passage, firepower— whatever hard-to-acquire assets she demanded as payment for her services, none of it was out of reach for someone of his lofty station.

A perfectly manicured nail tapped against the glass chalice at the mention of Natasha’s true nature, and she simply stared at Knox for several seconds in silence. A quick snap, and the attendant in the room scurried deeper into the back to presumably retrieve something.

Letting out a loud sigh, Natasha opted to instead down the rest of her chalice and slam it down, moving to pour herself a hefty new sip.
“You’re opting to play a very dangerous game here, Cecil. One that you might not have all the pieces to play with. The things I want in this world are not easily obtained, and you cannot easily give them.”


Swirling the drink once and staring at it rather than her guest, Natasha shrugged her shoulders as the servant returned with a rolled up parchment. He slid it into her free hand, before scurrying off once more. However, she didn’t move to unfurl or reveal what she had received just yet.

“I hope you know the threat of telling my family where I am is not enough to earn yourself this information. The moment they catch wind of what you desire…I’m afraid that handsome head of yours might end up on a spike. Or perhaps your friend. They’ve never had a redhead before in their collection,”
she hummed, tapping the parchment against her knee slowly.

“How much are you willing to lose, Knox?”


“I would never threaten you this early, not without a reason,”
Knox countered jovially, pleased with the visibly catalyzed outcome of sacrificing one of his cards,
“nor did I imply as much, but you didn’t seem too keen to do business with me without employing such crude tactics. Consider it a sign of my desperation to seal this deal— I’ll apologize for overstepping, if that means anything to you.”


Though his plucky words carried little weight and held a faint air of facetiousness, they were without a doubt completely devoid of dishonesty; he really had intended to use his vast connections to establish a mutually beneficial relationship with the famed broker, even if she was undoubtedly becoming a headache and a half to work with.

“But to answer your question,”
he continued, savoring his own wine despite Natasha’s sudden bout of binge drinking,
“I don’t lose anything— every vainglorious noble I meet tries their hand at taking what’s mine, but I have only ever gained and will continue to gain. Even during the war, when I was stranded with not even three coppers to my name. Even now, as I banter with you. Of course, if your oh-so-filial siblings wish to test their luck, they are more than welcome to try.”


His eyes flickered downwards as he took another swig to signify his interest in whatever the servant had just handed her, ready to get a move on with negotiations now that she’d had her fill of toying with him. So tedious. Despite her reputation as a master information dealer, he couldn’t quite say he’d recommend her “professional” services to anyone else.

Watching Knox for a few moments in silence, Natasha let out a small giggle that rapidly evolved into a boisterous laugh. She waved the sealed parchment in the air in an attempt to calm herself, eventually cracking down on her outburst after far too many seconds.

“You have the arrogance of a Prince and a pirate. It’s quite impressive, honestly,”
she said, moving to tap the parchment against her knee as she calmed herself from the laughing fit.
“Though perhaps you will see my offer as a gain. I certainly see it as such,”
she teased, moving to toss the sealed scroll into his lap. Once he moved to unfurl the paper, she simply leaned back to watch the information be processed.

For a woman who was playing ignorant of the entire situation until this moment, the premade contract very much seemed to suggest otherwise. In clear writing, if Knox wished to obtain the knowledge held by the Glaesia royal family, he’d simply have to become part of the family himself.

He’d have to marry Natasha.

Waving a hand dismissively in the air, Natasha let out a scoff as he read.
“Don’t worry too much about Glaesia, we wouldn’t have to move back there. I much prefer the warm air of Salona.”


Knox’s pupils flitted back and forth as he scanned the contract, brow furrowing at the terms outlined within but not entirely surprised by them. Marriage had always been a tool for negotiation when it came to the peerage, and though Amelia had promised him his freedom when he gave up his seat, he was well aware of the power being betrothed to a Salonian prince could hold.

Well, whatever. He’d weasel his way out of it somehow, anyways— and even if he didn’t, Amelia wouldn’t hesitate to squash her beneath her booted toe like a pathetic, wily cockroach the moment they set foot within Crana.

“As do I,”
he agreed dryly, placing the paper down on the table between them.
“Looks like you’re not wasting your days vacationing out here, after all. You’re aware that you won’t be marrying the crown prince, yes? I can’t imagine the title of ‘duchess-to-be’ would be very beneficial for your future plans, but I suppose getting proposed to like this isn’t too terrible. I do have one thing to add, however…”


Whipping a fountain pen out of his shirt pocket, Knox scribbled down one last clause at the bottom of the document, an ostensibly innocuous one that held little to object to within its contents: Natasha would be obligated to wear an engagement ring of the prince’s choosing to all public appointments, or else the promised terms would be immediately and permanently called off.

“My own personal indulgence, let’s call it,”
he mused, a saccharine smile adorning his otherwise unreadable expression.
“We Salonians can be quite picky about our customs, you see. I trust you won’t take offense to my imposing, yet trivial request.”


Watching Knox like a hawk as he continued to read over her document, Natasha could only offer a tiny smile in return once he placed the paper down between the two. She seemed almost giddy at the prospect of trapping the Captain into a marriage with her, though she was holding herself back from big emotional displays. Instead, she just hummed along happily at his request, waving a hand dismissively.

“I’ll pretend that it is indeed trivial for now, Cecil. I’m well aware that you’re no longer the crown Prince. It’s a bit pathetic if you ask me, but what do I know? I’d never see the crown in my country,”
she hummed out, tapping her finger against the paper once more to indicate she was fine with his arrangement and was ready for him to sign.

“Of course, I would be remiss if I didn’t study Salona law. One can always contest for the throne, especially if they’ve entered a marriage with a neighboring country…”
She added innocently, moving to stand up once Knox had signed his name. The contract was promptly snatched up and rolled back up, tucked under her arm like it wasn’t his entire future.

“I’ll be in contact with you shortly with the information you require. Come by tomorrow around noon before you set sail, and I’ll give you what you need. Until then, darling!”
She added with a cheerful smile, rotating on her heel to vanish deeper into the labyrinth of the bar. Just like that, Knox was once again alone. At least he had a bottle of wine this time.

With Natasha’s abrupt departure after hastily agreeing to his outwardly harmless terms, Knox released the tense breath he’d been holding and polished off his wine in solitary peace. What a character— he certainly did not miss dealing with folks like her, especially while on vacation in such a beautiful destination, but the work still had to get done at the end of the day.

He emerged from the shady bar at long last after taking a brief moment to gather his wayward thoughts, From the siren queen to the betrothal to the revelation that she knew about his unseemly catch, the captain certainly had much to ponder once he returned to his lodgings, where—

— where Sybil awaited. ’Shit.’

Racing through the streets like the man on a mission he’d quickly become once he remembered that he’d left his volatile companion behind to seethe by her lonesome, Knox finally found himself back on the relatively empty main street, only a few blocks down from where the hotel resided and far enough away from the bar to have positively shaken any tails Natasha could have placed on him.

“Please don’t be awake,”
he muttered to himself, scouring the streets for any trace of the fiery-haired woman.
“Please, please, please—”


To his horror, however, a dash of bright red caught his attention from the periphery of his vision, the fierce woman in question standing leisurely by herself outside the inn clad in nothing except the oversized dress shirt clinging to her shoulders and an unexpectedly unnerving smile.

It seemed the universe was certainly not on his side. 'Rats.'


coded by reveriee.
 
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The idiot returns.
sybil.
An hour prior…

As Sybil burst out onto the street in quite literally only a shirt, her eyes immediately began to dart back and forth in an attempt to find the Captain. She was acutely aware of the grime that touched her bare feet and how she’d much rather be hanging from the gallows than wandering a human road, but Knox had pushed her buttons in all the wrong ways. Of course, a bit of that was completely out of his control. It’s not like he could control what his dream self would do, and if he could, something seemed to tell Sybil he wouldn’t be nuzzling up against her and kissing away.

Hopefully.

Still, it only added fuel to the fire. He dragged her onto this terrible island, and for what? To attend the meeting by myself and humiliate her all in the same day? Perhaps that was all part of his plan to dump her away. He still needed her if he liked it or not, but maybe he got some sort of sick satisfaction dragging her around like a petulant child. Letting out a groan of disgust as a man of drunken men chortled their way past her and down the street, Sybil could only squint against the darkened lighting of the space around her. While the festival had certainly calmed down, there were still a good handful of individuals milling about. Most were seated at lit up tables scattered around the various taverns that surrounded the inn, content with the ale being served to them. There was no sign of Knox anywhere, and she was quickly coming to realize she had taken on a fruitless endeavor. The Captain had managed to sneak away long ago, leaving her none the wiser in her disturbing sleep.

Letting out a loud groan in frustration that drew confused glances from onlookers that turned into even more baffled stares at her appearance, Sybil chewed the inside of her cheek as she weighed her next options. She could crawl shamefully back into their shared bed, waiting patiently like a good little girl for Knox to return. She could also run off into the night, never to be seen again. Perhaps she’d even make it back to the ocean, and beg for her mothers forgiveness in return for her fins.

All were terrible options that left her more annoyed than before she had considered them.

The frustration on her face was visible, but she had no solution that satisfied her in the moment. Her feet were growing cold on the wet cobblestone below her, and her stomach was growling in protest at the lack of meals it was given. She was supposed to be the most fearsome siren in the seas; Hells, humans still whispered rumors about her. Yet she was trapped on land, dragged around like a toy at every whim of a prince turned pirate. How the hell was she supposed to carve out his heart, and retrieve the second eye?

Rubbing her hands against her eyes rather forcefully, Sybil almost didn’t hear the whistle and chuckle of a gentleman sitting right beside her. As she blinked away the shapes from her vision, her gaze focused on the individual who had grabbed her attention. Immediately, she recoiled at his appearance. With little to no hair upon his head and wrinkles covering every inch of his skin, Sybil had never seen a human so…old. Although he was smiling at Sybil and motioning for her to sit across from him, she didn’t move for a few seconds. All the humans she had encountered in her life had been young. Although she had witnessed some of the older crew upon passing ships, the Prince’s that she sang to were always around her age. Her mother made sure she was gathering appropriate hearts, after all.

Moving slowly over to sit at the table, Sybil said nothing as the old man continued to smile at her. He equally remained silent, simply pushing a plate of food over towards her that seemed untouched. With a growl of her stomach indicating that the offer was more appealing than she wanted to admit, Sybil quickly moved to scoop up a bit of bread and run it through the bowl of dip that sat on the corner of the plate. As she ripped a bite out to begin chewing, her head tilted to the side.

She swallowed, before pointing the bread at the man across from her.

“You are very old and wrinkly,” she said dryly, before dipping the bread back into the sauce for another bite.

The old man let out a hearty laugh, leaning back a bit in the chair to ease his back. His voice was rough and calloused from decades of use, though it held an upbeat tune that couldn’t be ignored.

“And you are very young and smooth. Though not for long if you continue to wander the streets without even a pair of slippers on,” he offered, holding his hands across his stomach as he watched Sybil continue to eat. She simply scoffed at his remark, moving to dig into the plate of various greens. As she chewed through each one, her eyes raked over her companion for the time.

“I have not seen a hu-person…a person this old before. Do you not feel like you are going to die soon?” She asked, nearly stumbling over her own words. The adrenaline of Knox’s disappearance had worn off, leaving Sybil suddenly tired once more. Still, the old man simply laughed again and tilted his head back, coughing a bit but regaining his composure shortly after.

“I’ve never met a red haired woman who wasn’t as bold as you. What a question...I don’t know if I’m going to die soon, but hopefully not by tomorrow. The festival will still be going on, and I haven’t missed the closing ceremony in nearly fifty years,” he pondered, taking a moment to sip from a glass of water that had sat on his side. Sybil had already cleared her plate of offered food, her hunger now satisfied for the time being.

“Now,” the old man said, lacing his fingers back together. “I can’t imagine what a beautiful woman like you is doing wandering these streets so late at night in such an outfit. I imagine it hardly matters at this point, but I hope you understand I simply couldn’t let it stand. A good meal makes things a bit better, yes?” He said, nodding along to his own words. “Plus an old man like me gets some company. Not a common occurrence at my age.”

Tilting her head to the side, Sybil could only stare at him in fascination. He was slow, old, achy, and seemed incapable of doing anything. Yet he enjoyed the company of a random stranger and liked the festival? It was a baffling existence to her, but she had truthfully never really thought about the day to day lives of the non-royals. What they occupied themselves with given their lack of wealth and status. Hells, she wouldn’t be surprised if the man across from her had never stepped onto a boat. He’d certainly be dead by now if he had.

“You are…odd,” Sybil said, mimicking his appearance to lace her own fingers together against her stomach as she leaned back. “You are finding happiness in such trivial things. Talking to a stranger and offering her food. You can’t even defend yourself. Why would you stick around?” She asked, a genuine curiosity in her voice. She’d certainly have killed herself long ago if this was the state she was left in.

The old man simply smiled again, offering up a slow hum for a few seconds as he pondered his answer. Finally, his dry voice cracked out yet again. “I’ve lived a long and good life, I like to think. There were parts that were bad, of course, but the good always outweighs it. I’ve loved and hated. I’ve hurt others, and I’ve healed. I can’t run like I used to, but at this point…It’s alright, I do believe. At some point you’re done running. Done jumping, done fighting. It’s peaceful, to finally relax without a care in the world. To enjoy a festival, and to talk to a strange woman with no shoes on late at night,” he said, laughing a bit at the end. His chair scraped back slowly as he rose upwards, his posture hunched and gnarled. But the smile remained on his face, and he slid a small golden coin over to Sybil as he bowed his head.

“Now don’t murder the poor chap who left you out to dry tonight, dear. I can only imagine the fury he’s about to return to,” he offered, turning to begin his journey back down the road. As he hobbled past various taverns and inns, folks called out to him in drunken delight. Sybil, however, was simply left to stare at the golden he had left for it. Snatching it up and slipping it into her pocket, she opted to stand up herself and brush off the large shirt she wore. A smile was tugging at her lips, whether she was aware of it or not.

Unfortunately, the moment of peace didn’t last long. As she turned back to the inn to slip back inside, a tall figure instead caught her attention.

Knox.

A scowl instantly overcame her visage, and she didn’t mind the slippery cobblestone as she stomped over to the Captain. Before he could say more than a few words out to her, she slammed her foot right between his legs with ferocity. She had seen Rafael do it once or twice in the last week on the ship, and it had caused each man to keel over each time. So hopefully, it had the same effect on Knox.

“You are an asshole,” she snarled out to him, before turning on her heel and stomping back into the inn. Seems she at least wanted a verbal explanation of his clear betrayal.

After his balls stopped hurting, of course.
  • outfit


coded by reveriee.
[/border[/b[/borde
 
something something lemons... ah, stuff it.
knox.
too preoccupied with formulating a game plan for mitigating her incoming anger to notice the attack winding up, the captain just barely had enough time to scan sybil's scantily clad body for potential injuries before her foot connected with his unsuspecting groin, completely derailing his train of thought as he dropped to his knees in pain.

"fuck!"
he hissed, bending over at the waist as he cupped his royal jewels with one hand and feebly reached out in the direction sybil disappeared in with the other. from an unwanted engagement to this wonderful development, today was just going swimmingly, wasn't it? still, her rapidly retreating form meant that he wasn't even close to being out of the woods just yet.
"sybil, wait—"


slam!

"ugh..."
groaning as the throbbing pain slowly began to dull down to a constant, intense ache, knox sat there in defeat for several moments longer before shakily stumbling to his feet in pursuit of his wrathful companion. earlier tenderness and clinginess aside, she steadfastly remained a woman of violence above all else, a fact he'd neglected at his own peril during their first time apart since the tumultuous meeting all those days ago that kicked off their relationship— not that they had much of one to work with even now.

well, putting some distance between them was fine by his books, perhaps overdue even. despite her adaptability, he couldn't fully trust sybil yet, not with something this important. just last week she had been clawing at his face like a devilish banshee; who was to say she wouldn't jump ships and sell him out once negotiations began? natasha certainly seemed to know that she was under knox' protection, and a woman that conniving would undoubtedly try anything to bring her under her control if it meant milking the captain for even more than she already had.

still, they needed to talk— he owed her an explanation at the very least. and thus the captain slowly made his way back inside the inn to find sybil once more, grateful that the receptionist only gave him a pitiful glance before returning to her book rather than prying into his sorry state of affairs.

"sybil,"
his low, strained voice called through the door with a few sharp knocks against the wood once he managed to make it up the stairs, expression pinched in discomfort due to his injury. at least she wasn't planning on chewing him out in the lobby for all of their snoozing neighbors to listen in.
"i'm coming in."


hesitation gripped knox' senses at the prospect of suffering yet another assault as soon as he entered their room, but he nevertheless carefully slipped inside and clicked the door shut behind him, locking it securely before turning back to face sybil.

"i understand why you're angry,"
he began quietly, sticking to his corner and fiddling with the peeling paint on the doorframe instead of approaching any further,
"but i couldn't risk bringing you there, not yet— not without checking it out myself first. this informant, natasha, she's... dangerous, unprecedentedly so, and definitely not the type to let even the smallest of affronts go unpunished. i wouldn't have been able to protect you if you got on her bad side."


knox swallowed the lump in his throat, brow furrowing as he wracked his brain for any other way to effectively appease sybil's rage while pointedly avoiding glances towards her nude figure. all of this just sounded like he was insulting her temper, even to his own ears— why did he care so much that she was upset with him, anyways? she certainly had no right to demand transparency at this stage in their partnership given her hostile, uncooperative streak, and yet guilt continued to gnaw at him relentlessly despite the logical appraisal.

"i'm... sorry for deceiving you, sybil, i really am, but i did get us what we came here for,"
he continued with a soft sigh, moving to grab some necessary overnight items from his suitcase as the strength slipped from his rigid shoulders after such an arduous day. he was far too tired to play peacekeeper anymore, and daring to share a bed with sybil after all the chaos would only be putting his life at risk yet again.
"we have a meeting with her at noon tomorrow to collect her end of the deal... i'll wait for you in the lobby once you've had breakfast, so..."


his disjointed explanation trailed off into silence as he returned to his spot by the door and rubbed his aching temples, the implication that he wouldn't leave her behind this time around hanging in the tense air between them while he waited to verify that she wouldn't try to throttle him the moment he turned around to reach for the doorknob once more. the inn wasn't likely to have any spare rooms at this hour, but he was willing to trek back to the ship if it came down to that— they'd certainly tested each other's limits enough for one day, in his humble opinion.


coded by reveriee.
 
he's a bit pathetic looking...
sybil.
The moment Sybil’s foot connected with Knox’s crotch, an immediate sense of satisfaction washed over her. However, just like a wave, it was gone a moment later. She was left with the anger that had been festering the entire time, and she wasn’t exactly sure what to do with it. She could always keep kicking Knox while he was down, but he looked particularly pathetic cupping his jewels and reaching out to her feebly. So instead, she pivoted on her heel and marched right back upstairs to their room.

It would buy her a few minutes of silence to contemplate the shitty situation even more, she supposed.

Slamming the door behind her loud enough to certainly wake up a neighbor or two, Sybil let out a low groan of frustration and balled her palms up against her eyes as she tilted her head back. This certainly had to be the fault of her new human form. When had she ever experienced such a range of emotions before in her life? Especially in relation to some…man. Even if the man in question was the Prince of an entire kingdom and her lifeline to becoming a siren again. Worst of all, she understood his position. She’d never drag him along to meet with some secret informant that was the only person in the world who knew what they needed. They both knew that he was right, and that she was once again being the irrational woman pulled from the sea. But what was she going to do? Admit that to him?

Never.

When the sharp knocks of Knox’s knuckles against the door sounded, Sybil aptly jerked her head around to stare at the door frame. His voice was lower than normal, and Sybil could only cross her arms in an attempt to restrain herself from pouncing on him again in anger. Realistically, that would only make her feel better for a few minutes. (No matter how tempting it was.)

"I'm coming in."

A huff of indignation sounded from the woman, but she didn’t protest any further as Knox slipped into the room and locked the door behind him. Even after she assaulted him, he was still gentle with his surroundings. Her bottom lip quickly became the victim of her teeth as she watched him slowly turn around and fiddle with the paint on the frame rather than approach her. It was what she wanted.

Right?

As she listened to Knox fumble his way through his explanation, she couldn’t help but look anywhere but him. It all made sense, perfectly so. Perhaps his encounter with the informant had taken a bit of toll on him, too. Still, a groan sounded from Sybil as she moved to pinch the bridge of her nose. She then found herself saying the one thing she had desperately hoped to never say to Knox.

“I…I understand. Where you are coming from,” she gritted out, clearly forcing herself to overcome a mental block of admitting Knox was in fact correct in this situation. Her arms uncrossed, and she threw them up in the air for a moment to punctuate her point. She then dropped them down, just barely tilting her head at the Captain. “But also understand I do not wish to be lied to. You bring along under the pretense that I will be joining you at this meeting, and instead I am forced to…humiliate myself in public, and then mope around this inn. I hate being useless, and I fear my presence on this trip was just that,” she added, not daring to take a step closer to Knox. She didn’t need to try and institute another attack coming for his balls, after all.

“In the future. Just do not lie to me, Knox,” she said, her eyes dropping to the floor to avoid contact with his own as she spoke. It was a rich request coming from the woman lying about her entire life to him, but he’d certainly kill her if he knew just who she was. What she had done to him, and his people.

It was for the best. He wouldn’t survive to think about it much when he found out, anyway.

As for Knox’s suggestion of going to another room for a night, Sybil simply let out a scoff and turned herself back over to the bed. Crawling across to the sheets to leave him an accessible side, she simply pulled the blanket up and over herself with her back facing him.

“Do not be ridiculous. There will be no rooms at this hour, and it seems you have a meeting tomorrow. You would also be useless in this mission if you got stabbed going back to the ship now. Sleep on the floor if you want, but this bed is perfectly big enough to accommodate us both,” she added, not turning around to look at him again. With that, she grew silent.

It seems the beast had been tamed for the night.
  • outfit


coded by reveriee.
[/border[/b[/borde[
 
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