westwhere | the dissent

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the dissent

THE DISSENT

The winds of the Crossing dull down to a whisper, effectively lulling the two pirate vessels in place and stranding them, subject to supernatural occurrences. The hauntings of these strange, untrustworthy seas entail frequent nightmares, while mermaids coax you to walk the plank and voices in the wind accuse you of all your wicked faults or sins, true or imagines.

Quicksilver Sam’s newer crew aboard the Pariah weather this well, saying they were told the risks of traversing the Crossing when they accepted their assignment. But Caladan Kreil’s sailors of the Queen Zanyra grow increasingly restless, impatient and vocally accusing, questioning both Quicksilver’s wits and those of their own captain, who committed them to play escort to the Pariah in these dangerous seas. A brewing storm sequesters pirates with their dark thoughts.

Caladan Kreil attempts to pacify his people, first with reason, then by pinning hanging ropes to ships masts, and threatening to put them to fine use. More furtively, he asks characters to tame the spirits on his crew, promising handsome pay, better accommodations and a cut of the mysterious reward Quicksilver Sam has pledged him for completing the mission in the Crossing.

✘ OBJECTIVE: calm down the Queen Zanyra’s crew for the handful of days of poor weather.

■ Caladan Kreil offers characters a pouch of thinly ground opiates to share with the pirate crew — these powders are best licked off fingers alongside gulps of rum, or smoked in thin provisions by pipe. Careful not to consume them by accident or expose yourself too long to their scent: these strong narcotics trigger sluggishness in some, intense paranoia in others, and deep fondness in a handful. They often lead to hallucinations across the board.

■ Distract sailors with entertainment, performances, stories, song or spirited speeches. The crew is tragically fond of gambling and games of truth and dare, frequently challenging those who indulge them to perform some inane but publicly humiliating or slightly dangerous act. Indulge them.

■ Fish out pearls from the mermaid-infested waters, minding your limbs: pirates are financially sensitive souls, easily moved by bribes.

■ As pirates now congregate to chat and conspire among themselves, they leave behind their wares and personal belongings unsupervised more often than not — go on, do some looting, if you’re so inclined.

■ Weaponise existing superstitions or invent new ones to keep credulous pirates from pursuing bloodshed ( “I read your future in this scattering of fish scales, and you’ll die if you pick up a knife today. This complete stranger who is definitely not my associate can confirm.” )

■ In that vein, share scary stories or fake hauntings aboard the Queen Zanyra to keep pirates tucked in below deck and far away from mutinous thoughts.

■ ~~Snoop~~ overhear which little cliques are forming within the crew, and spread rumours or sic them against each other, before they can ally together against Caladan Kreil.

■ Disarm, trick or talk down any pirate group that starts to speak of mutiny, particularly during the harder storm nights. If need be, lure them down into the brig, where Caladan Kreil can order them jailed.

■ Start figuring out ways to restart the sails, via magic, mechanics or, well, prayer.

■ While at it, try finding out why Caladan Kreil’s crew is so distrustful of their captain — and, particularly, of Quicksilver Sam.

QUESTIONS

PLOTTING

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I: I am not a charlatan but...

[This was exactly what he is good at. So he finds himself at the middle of a group, looking comfortable and like he belonged despite his rather delicate features. He was holding a pirate's hand with a smile.][His Concerned Frown is quite convincing.] It seems something terrible is set to happen. Though if you stayed below deck it will probably not bother you.

[He nods at the first vaguely familiar face he spots. He may or may not actually know you but if he recognizes you from the group he assumes you are going to play along.] Oh, hello! I hadn't seen you since yesterday. Well? My prediction was really accurate, wasn't it?

II: Midnight Mischief

[He likes sleeping but he can function on only a little of it when necessary. And this is necessary because ghost hauntings don't work so well in the daytime.

He's perched on one of the yards of one of the main masts. He's stolen food from the ship's kitchen and has planted 'proof' of someone else doing it already. So he was snacking quite happily. Maybe you approach and he tilts his head with a faint smile.]

I'm not sharing.

[Or maybe you are there when a pirate comes up from below deck and Yun Yifeng wipes his hands on a piece of cloth.]

Finally. I was beginning to think no one was going to come up tonight.

iii: He stole your money!

[Stealing and pickpocketing were valuable skills for an information broker.

So, when a pirate leaves his things unsupervised of course, Yun Yifeng is going to rifle through it...and then he's going to cheerfully slide it into some other pirate's pocket. It's amazing, the sort of rift that is created between two people when one party is a thief (or was set up to be the scapegoat of a theft anyway).

First though, he's going to look through this pouch he'd taken.]

...hm. Not bad I suppose. [He pulls out a precious thing or two--maybe a coin, maybe a pearl.] I thought pirates would be more rich.

IV: Save Your Ears

[Naturally, he did try to offer some music, but uh. Well. Rather than entertain it would be more accurate to say that what his guqin playing accomplishes is probably closer to 'torture'.

And yet he settles down to play anyway, the the anger of the crew around them....stop him? Or maybe you find him after he had to deck a pirate for getting angry and physical with him.]

How rude.

[ Sizhui might or might not be staring in surprise. That is not exactly what he is used to witnessing, and his cultivator senses mean that he did witness it.

But, all things considered, he swallows and tucks his hands in his sleeves. ]

Would it not depend on whether they have had fortune recently?

[ Not everyone in the world is bound by the rules of the Lan sect. This, he has learned well enough already. ]

Ah, I suppose you're right.

[He doesn't pout but he doesn't sound happy about it. He had taken out five gold coins. He pockets three of them and slip the other two back in.

Then he pulls out a pearl from where he'd been keeping it and dropped it in as well. He does it all so naturally no one would suspect that none of what was in his hand at the moment wasn't his.]

I suppose if they were making good money they might be less inclined to mutiny.

[Maybe. Some people aren't happy no matter how much they have. He's speaking at his companion at the moment, seemingly not paying attention to anyone else around him. And yet, when a certain pirate (that he knows is in talks with the victim of his theft to form a group alongside the man whose pearls he'd stolen) passed by, he silently slipped the pouch into his pocket.]

Ah... yes, they probably would be less inclined.

But then, I think part of that is that they are frightened, or there may be something else affecting them.

Would something making them afraid or wary not make them hide their valuables, rather than carry them around? Even on as hip, there may be places to hide them.

[ Not that he is trying to get valuables! He merely wants to understand what is happening. ]

[There is a certain degree of fear that can be paid off, really. But he keeps that opinion to himself.]

Oh, we could probably root out those hiding places...once we find out who has something worth taking.

[Yes, it's we. Congratulations, Sizhui, he's offering you a spot on his bandit ship.]

Your clothes are rather familiar. I think I ran into someone else wearing something similar. He didn't seem very impressed with my guqin playing.

[To put it mildly.]

It is a uniform of some sort, no?

[ ... uhoh. But also being part to that may mean he can return some of the things later. Possibly. It seems a rather bad idea to antagonize their, well, hosts when they are already so on edge...

A soft breath out, before he brightens slightly at the mention of Hanguang-jun. ]

They are our sect's colors, if you should mean Hanguang-jun. And as guqin is his spiritual weapon, it takes great skill to impress him.

[ He's reassuring. Really. (Sizhui, no. You don't know what that guqin playing was.) ]

[Obviously it's poor form to antagonize their hosts...which is why he will be framing others for it. Especially others who were in talks with the theft vicitms about mutinies.

Looking at the sincerity of this young man, Yun Yifeng can't help but think....it would be fun to tease him a little.]

Well, I suppose if he's a master it can't be helped. Still, he could have been a little nicer about it...

[He heaves the most dramatic of long suffering sighs...but then brightens a little when he hears the beginning of an argument. The man he had planted the pouch on was speaking with the man who had that same pouch taken from him. Oh this should be fun.]

[ This one, earnest as he is, is still very used to being teased. He just smiles sweetly. ]

It would not be proper for a junior to speak so of a senior.

[ But then he directs his attention where the senior here is focused, and the smile fades to an expression of concern. ]

Nothing will be well if they truly begin fighting, will it.

Would you rather they get along and conspire together?

[There's no telling what he feels about it, beyond a very surface level amusement. There is no judgement or anything that makes it obvious whether he agrees or disagrees. He is merely curious for the answer.]

( They've blasphemed against their women, aye, and sequestered them so often below the deck or in their cabins, like smuggled wares. He thinks, when he stumbles on the shapely silhouette of a dame, painted in brazier lights, cataracted, that she too might be a ghost of the Crossing — and he startles, from where he's posted by the railing, hands clutching metal and wood, righting himself back into composure thereafter.

Aboard the Pariah, Caladan Kreil is the guest, and the woman is the more natural inhabitant. He knows this. Knows, also, to be on his finer behaviour. Fair, then, when he brings two fingers to the lean rim of his hat, signalling but never executing a gentleman's salutation. Why waste effort, him? He be nothing of that. )

Careful, little friend. Your captain will think you a ghost and want you gone.

( And you would not wish yourself the subject of Samuel Vane's interest now, the edge of his smile betrays. For the better part of an hour, Quicksilver's cabin has housed wails and earnest screams, and inside it one priest or another has begged to silence the Pariah's captain, summoning him back to his senses.

Earlier, Quicksilver Sam still possessed his wits, when they shared the Pariah's finest dining. Now, Vane's meandered back to his merry, savage ways, and if Caladan Kreil is perturbed by the devolution of his ally's composure, he has the good grace not to speak the words aloud. )

[Heading up for fresh air is a delicate balance. Too many of the crew around and she deals with a lot of looks and scowls, but wait too long and you run the risk of no one being around when the sirens try to call you overboard. It doesn't help matters that there are already ghosts whispering to her, trying to get her to address their own last wishes.

Regardless, she needs fresh air if she's going to survive being on this boat. This particularly evening, however, she's engaged by someone, and it's not to tell her to get back below deck where she belongs.

She raises an eyebrow as she turns.]

The captain already wants me gone. He doesn't have to think I'm a ghost for that.

[She tips her head to the side.]

My captain but not yours?

My friend.

( He corrects carefully, and remembers enough of his mimicked graces to shift, so the lady might seek warmth and shelter by the brazier's light. Small comfort, in a night so storm-brewed. Even the moon's a diffuse smear of dissolved chalks. )

You speak to a captain, lass. ( When he nods, it's towards a nebulous distance, where the fat and strong shape of the Queen Zanyra sways slowly, silently in dark waters. He knows the risks now, knew them in the coming — better he waits out dawns, than takes his chances of troubles seas on a small boat, to reach his ship again. ) That there, she my wife. Me, only here... to visit. Like gentlemen do. And I'm finding my good friend Quicksilver in sick tempers.

( Another scream, as if perhaps Samuel Vane times them for their pleasure. Caladan Kreil affords him a paternal nod. ) Now, what's a man to make of that?

Oh. Pardon me, Captain.

[She straightens more, giving, a small curtsey of sorts. She doesn't know if pirates are the type to put on airs, but since he's making space to point it out to her, she'll acknowledge it. But she's still Allison so it's more out of courtesy than fear.

She does glance towards the sound of the scream, however. They are becoming more and more unsettling, and if her power were less unpredictable, she might have tried to intervene. Whatever is happening in there is making her skin crawl.]

Sick tempers? Is that what you call it?

[Seems a bit more than that.]

Oh, he's not dead yet.

( And Caladan Kreil, nominal ally who has exerted himself and his crew of the good Queen Zanyra to play stalwart escort to the Pariah seems not at all startled by the thought of the alternative.

There's screaming, and then there's the animal sound that leaves Quicksilver's cabin, a whimpering not like ravenous birds in the sky. As if this man, this unfathomable pirate king who supposedly conquered the seas, needs protection.

Well enough, Caladan's bittersweet smile linger throughout. )

Only nightmares, that. And him, a man grown. What happens, when nightmares come? A man wakes with morning. And it's done. If he's got trouble in his heart or his head, won't be what kills him.

You'd be surprised the damage a nightmare can do.

[It's simply a matter of who is wielding the nightmare and if they follow you to the waking world. But she's also learned not to take anything for granted in this place. That if someone is having nightmares, or anything is slightly off kilter, that means something is coming.

She just needs to figure out what.]

I take it the nightmares are a new element to your ... friendship?

We weren't brothers before. No, him the great Quicksilver Sam, the likes of me... ( Another chuckle, and he waves his hand, as if dismissing — himself, or the ghost of the man he was. Let it never be said Caladan Kreil lacks humour at his own expense. ) We were like ships at night.

( Funnier still, how his ship waits at tight distance, and yet he can barely glimpse her. )

Came back with'em after his little trouble at sea, and now, look at him. ( More of the screaming, this time seemingly accusing ghosts staring at Quicksilver from an unspecified corner of the cabin. One of the priests raises his voice, calling him to silence. ) Wouldn't think he made the law of every sea he sailed, now would you?

[Made the law. Interesting choice of words. Clearly Quicksilver was someone who once held prestige by pirate standards. She can't help but wonder what changed.]

Do you know what it was that triggered the nightmares?

...'course, love.

( But it's a bitter endearment, something mutilated to offend. She's not the kind who preens at cheap, ill-gained affection. Expensive. Eyes sit in a man's sockets, so he can tell. )

Don't you? ( Pleasant, far too pleasant. As if he's about to explain her misfortune — as if he doesn't share it. ) He came here. And what it be he found, it sent'im scuttling back.

( But he's chuckling, meanly. ) Alone. They sent'im back like a dog. Marooned him on a boat. Think he starved'imself a little. Went a little more... off in his head. Sleep turned on him. What's it to us?

[Allison can't help but straighten at that, eyes wandering out to the water around them. And endless array of darkness and water stretches out before them and anything could be out there.]

They don't exactly share much with us woman folk.

[If he knew her better, he might sense the danger in her tone.]

So what? This is some kind of revenge quest? Does he think that what broke him can fix him?

Hmmmm...? You be asking me to know how a troubled mind thinks? He's got himself unfinished business.

( And the shrug, ambivalent, as if Caladan Kreil may suspect more truth and story to this enterprise, but has no business or interest digging deeper. What's it to him, in the end?

The job was taken. It'll be paid. Let Quicksilver Sam satisfy himself. Although, and his gaze trails back out in the pitch-black distance: )

Not much revenge in it. Least he survived. They say that ship of his, the Storm at Sea'n'her people, they're still there. In the Crossing. Drowned.

I'm asking you how his mind works. Troubled or not, you've gotten more face time with the guy than I have.

[But that's not really the point is it. The point is that this is definitely a Captain Ahab situation and they're heading right for the white whale.]

Look, I'm not saying you have to save him from himself. But if you want to keep this business relationship or whatever it is you have intact, him getting himself killed isn't really going to help you.

Won't it? ( There's a glint to his teeth, as if he might wear gold — for all he's far, so very far from an artificial denture. ) I get paid either way. Enjoy your journey, lass. The Pariah's mine, soon as we reach the Crossing.

( There's ugliness in it, as if he'd just as well spit out the words. As if they both please and disgust him. )

You be taking care, little friend. Remember, is a captain who decides who's a righteous passenger, and who's a stowaway.

( If, when the Pariah enters his commission, then... that prerogative also becomes his own. )

[That sets Allison's nerves on edge, the self-satisfied sneer of someone trying to put her in the place. There's a number of words that bubble from her throat some of them starting with "I heard a rumor..." but her power's been unreliable, and it's only bound to leave her exposed.

So she swallows it back, softening the grit of her teeth to a smile.]

You take care too. Never know what might be out there.

[Or what happens if you deem the wrong passenger a stowaway. You want to make threats? She can make them too.]

...is only a sea, her.

( This, nodding in the dark horizon, where the Crossing roils and gathers itself, like a wounded animal. He's seen her like before a storm. )

Same dangers in any water. ( The wilderness, the cold, the drowning. ) We're men. And we've got pistols and fire and rope.

( Enough of it to win his moniker, to have hanged a man only days prior — to spare, if needed, for a woman more. )

[She hears the threat between his words, and decides to leave it there. Whatever further information he may have, he's clearly not interested in sharing. Pirates, after all. She's met Hollywood executives with more class.

But that's a problem for another day. Instead, she smiles sweetly, hiding the knife within her smile.]

Well. As long as you big strong men have it handled, I'm sure we'll be perfectly fine.

( Big and strong him, not quite, not quite. Broad, maybe. Resilient. A bit of root and raw power to him, the sort of sickness that stays and breeds.

He grins hard and mean about it. )

You be wanting advice, little friend? ( Not girl, not lass. Matters of sex are insignificant before the state of a man's coin purse. ) When I take over that ship, don't be on it.

[She raises an eyebrow at him, before leaning in closer.]

A bit of advice right back at you: I would be careful who you decide to threaten.

[But with that, she's going to walk away, because she's had enough of power plays for today.]

i. Songs unsung

ii. Stories untold

iii. Speech unheard

iv. Sights unseen

very

v. Wildcard

ooc: Anything else you might wish with him.

Between the reports of the captains getting high on some sort of drugs and the crews of both ships growing more disgruntled, the vibes around here are just bad. So Kanesada stays vigilant, not acting in any specific way yet, but keeps a hand on the hilt of his blade.

But amid all the various efforts to keep the simmering frustrations just at a simmer, some quiet music manages to make its way to him. Kanesada follows the plucked notes until he finds a young man playing...well, that's not a koto, but he's not sure what it is. Some instrument, clearly.

The music quickly has an effect on him, gently brushing away his uneasiness. Maybe it's just really nice music. (Maybe being a tsukumogami has something to do with it.) But it draws him in and he moves to his knees in front of the musician, listening patiently until the song comes to an end. "That's really good."

Sizhui looks up from his guqin at the long-haired man before him, and smiles brightly, cupping his fist in greeting.

"Thank you." His eyes move to seek out the effect it should have on others as well. "I am glad you liked it. And the longer we keep people from getting too upset, the higher the chance that they will not have cause to be upset anymore."

Yes, this one is an optimist.

Having gotten the musician's attention and gratitude, Kanesada scoots even closer. "I hope you're right." He leans in, lowering his voice. "Humans can be really unpredictable, though. Emotions are crazy like that." He speaks from experience, still being relatively new to emotions and everything that comes from the heart. Emotions can hit hard and fast and oftentimes don't make a lot of sense. It makes people really weird.

He points to the instrument, curiosity winning in this moment of peace. "What is this? I've never seen something like this before."

Sizhui blinks, slowly, but doesn't attempt to lean away, tilting his head and listening carefully.

"You are then among the non-humans brought here?"

He is not, in fact, asking what he is, but it is good to have confirmation.

"This is a qin, a kind of zither. It is a powerful spiritual instrument, for those who can master it, so it is oft used in our sect."

And, a smile.

"What instruments do you usually know?"

Kanesada frowns a little, unsure if this guy can actually tell he's not human like Xie Lian could or if he's just throwing out a lucky guess. "What makes you say that?" Then he smirks and lightly fingers his braid. "Is it 'cause I'm impossibly pretty?"

When all else fails, use distraction techniques! Assuming that works. It may not. Which is fine; he can probably get away with being more lax in this place than on any mission where history is actually at stake.

Kanesada looks at the instrument again, a qin, and wishes to touch. He doesn't, of course, because he knows better than to touch someone else's things and especially when it's a spiritual device. It could have its own soul, or one forming. "Oh, I don't play anything. I mean, I've played around on taiko before, but mostly for fun. I like to sing, though."

Stories

Kaneki is more talented than he lets out. He is a great actor, an amazing story teller, and a good liar; all of those are perfect if he is telling a story to a crew of pirates who have been on their toes for a while and are dying to stab their own captain. He knows novels and stories, and decides to end up mashing together a couple of them, specifically "Robinson Crusoe" and "Lord of the Flies" along with "The Butchers Table".

As he tells his exciting story, he moves around, gesturing, creeping over his audience from time to time, to add more suspense and some terror to it. He does try to focus on the idea that it's better to get along with your fellow companions, or you will be stranded at sea to be eaten by solitude and sea animals. Or killed.

It's a cautionary tale, sure.

Once he is done, Kaneki nods at the crew with a cute!! smile!! and he of course ads "Thank you for listening." you are all very welcome. Kaneki's stories certainly are a bit -ah- dark.

Singing

Kaneki can sing too. Surprise. Again, he is more talented than he lets out indeed. His voice is good, but of course he has no voice-training, therefor it's not like he is amazing, but still good enough to entertain. Problem is that Kaneki's picks are a lot different from sea shanties and they are kind of like... morbid ballads.

Not everyone's cup of tea, certainly not pirate's cup of tea.

"Ya sing like some lady." one of the pirates grunts. "Let us hear your puppet sing instead". And by puppet they mean Kaneki's cursed doll who has been following him since he found her at the Lighthouse, and who is currently sitting not too far from Kaneki. She does sing! But only sometimes and she often does not finish her songs. Not that any of the pirates seem to care because they all soon start banging their feet on the wooden floor of the ship.

Kaneki sighs. "If she wants to." he glances back at the doll and she eerily turns her head before she asks "Father?" there is no singing from her, and the crew roars once more before everyone starts chanting "Sing! Sing! Sing!"

Kaneki hates everything that is going on right now.

Talk of Mutiny

Kaneki can see them gathering and conspiring and at some stage he's just too tired for this. What do they expect it will happen here? They will mutiny, take over the ship, and somehow break for it while they are already in the middle of the ocean like this, being cursed by ghosts and undead and mermaids? One of the crews has accepted their fate, so it will all end up just in needless bloodshed.

Caladan will certainly kill them all.

He watches from afar, eventually sighing. "I could break their limbs. If I break their limbs, they are unable to move, thus unable to mutiny."

LOOK.
LOOK HERE.

Kaneki is very tired. He hasn't slept in a while because of the fortune and as usual a lot happens during their journey.

A boy and his dog, displaced by a wretched accounts of fiction. A poor, wretched, lost sight in the sea of dappled, diffuse candle light and below-deck clamour. Lan Wangji, so seldom drawn to the Queen Zanyra but for the recent revelation of prospective mutiny, does not dally with the sailors long. He walks among them, watches them — learns their weapons, their habits, the easy, loose thread of their interaction that can so gently unfold into chaos.

Then, he stumbles into the spectacle below, and he assumes Kaneki is first an unwilling captive, then a grudging participant, only for the reality of who is the master and who the mastered to finally, irrevocably dawn. To Lan Wangji's left, a veteran sailor who has lost a limb whimpers. Another seems petrified, lip forever northbound in a deep, unpleasant, curdled curl.

The first met steps forward, both hands palm outwards as if to beg Kaneki's peace — only, Lan Wangji intercedes first, a ruin of whites amid the cluster of gritty darks, and approaches the boy first.

"You have stolen their sleep," by way of greeting, whispered slow, once Lan Wangji's step stills at Kaneki's side.

kaneki is very much ready to let the sailors be completely stunned on their own, and has no interest in providing any soothing words that will calm their terror. Story telling is an art and literature should be enjoyed by each person who will have to digest it on their own - so he would argue. In reality, Kaneki simply doesn't see it needed because the stories he has been telling have a very specific purpose.

When he spots a familiar face, Ken nods gently as a greeting. "If it will help them rethink their actions, I believe it's a good thing." he whispers back, watching the crew dissipate.

"Strangely enough, they will return after supper to hear another." perhaps because they may be bored or too frightened to be on their own. Who knows.

The real, pedestrian horror of death at sea draws men to more sinister alternatives — as if to hear the scares of ghosts and ghouls brings glory to the final passage and distance from its hurts.

There is a place for stories, in the discipline of men as well as in their appeasement. They will return after supper to hear another, no doubt flasks of hard drink in hand and the look of silvered wonder ghosting their eyes. They will want to pretend there is worse that could curse them than the howls of a stormy sea, or the boom of their captain's voice, condemning them to hard, ugly toil.

Kaneki's cruelty is his mercy. There must be something in this game, just for him. A private, cautious gain.

"Lend them kindness. Many have suffered." A hand, raised bony and pale, so his palm might weather the near-physical advance of Kaneki's likely upcoming opposition. For, yes, Kaneki too has suffered. "Behold them: uneducated, orphans, weak-minded. Often stumbled into their ruin."

Few men wake each day choosing to wear their worst forms. More often, they simply grow into them.

Or perhaps they wish to be warned of their fates, or maybe they simply enjoy literature that will freeze them in their places. Whatever it is that brings them back to kaneki's stories, the ghoul will indulge them because he does know many books, many stories, many words.

"I am being kind." he explains softly. He doesn't expect most to understand. "Calladan will kill them if they dare to rise against him in any form. These stories, as petrifying as they are, work to keep them from doing anything stupid, for they fear they might happen to them."

by instilling fear, they do not fight their captain. It is a kindness. "They would never be able to actually take over this ship. They would die pointless deaths."

There is complicity, learned fear in this apprehension of Caladan Kreil. He has seen it before, in men of the Sunshot legions, in career soldiers inured to risk and yet still petrified of the man who leads them above all, short only of the heavens.

"You think one man stands above dozens?" he asks it conversationally, empty. Not to contradict, but to inspect the root of fear's sickness. What can the captain do, past coax the allegiance of those handful still loyal? And even they appear few, far between, scattered.

It strikes Lan Wangji, as it should have from the start, "He commands powers past rank? A weapon?"

Surely, even if he did, a captain would not turn the sharp end of his blade against his followers — at times of peace. If this reddens into war, then... ah, but they are wretched things, poor strategists, prone only to speculation.

"Or perhaps it's not Calladan they should fear." Kaneki is certain Quicksilver would not allow for whatever his plans are to be messed up by some unruly pirates. In fact, he might be willing to use those unruly pirates to his end - whatever it is.

In the end, he doesn't think Calladan is the main issue, he seems to simply be following to get his hands in what he can. he will receive a boat too, but there is a chance he might receive more.

But he shakes his head and Kaneki adds a smile "I simply don't think bloodshed while travelling in the middle of a possibly cursed ocean is wise."

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the dissent

Yun Yifeng

iii.

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→ allison

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Lan Sizhui | The Untamed

i!

aw!

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Ken Kaneki // OTA

story time

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