11/4 Sink (Anne's Death)

 Anne orn Salis says, "Maer."
Maertock Reave says, "I awaken from the depths of the void."
 "Just in time, I'd say."

He scuffs the heel of his foot against the soft sands below, nearly wet with the tides that wash upon them. He seems to fester with something on the inside, not very much in the mood to speak.

That should be obvious upon his face, yes?

Maertock, poor soul that they are, has lost, and lost, and lost. Nothing could bring back the person that they cherished, but, nothing would stop Lyael from obtaining what he sought this day as well. To Luna, who happened to be much like a younger sibling even in her anger.

He will not rest.

And to the Salis who escaped? It needn't be said that he holds special contempt in his heart for she, who fled.

"You will return the body, or I'll have yours, and her head."
(Lyael)
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 Somewhere behind Lyael stands Shining Sparkle, potentially as either an enabler or voice of reason. Not many appeared to be around though, even so, she'd have the Ookami's back.

The Lapine herself didn't have much to say just yet.
(Shining Sparkle)
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 Knowing Maertock likely wouldn't have context, Anne glanced at him.

"He wants the rabid animal that murdered your brother's corpse. As it is intended as a sacrifice in honour of Murtock, I refused, as I would -and am- again. I was assaulted for this; I'm not sure what exactly what was done to me, but I...do not feel great."

Her lips peeled back for her to bare her teeth at Lyael.

"Still well enough to try and rip his spine from his body, however, should he make another threat."

This wasn't Moxtli. This was Deep territory.

"Our God demands his due, Captain."
(Anne orn Salis)
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The seven feet of fish sinew that lay over the nearby table appeared void of life bar for the countless bottles that appeared to surround him. The captain of the Deep Company was in mourning; the void of his brother's loss a harsh sentiment to swallow all things considered. Retribution had come and gone; empty embers turned to ash in the Captain's bosom as he slowly rose from the table.

Pacing steadily across the sand without his jovial swagger of yesteryear, the cloak of inky, flowing shadows and fog that ever clung to the reaver's shoulder appeared to be almost chillier than usual. As if even the barest warmth in its demeanor was cut off cold.

Mournful, lifeless eyes fell upon Lyael, and as Maertock took a drag from his cigar, the Captain of the Deep Company could only sigh as minty smokes rose up towards the distant horizon of Siren Beach.

"There is no fight in me, no retribution a corpse can grant what hath been taken by the deep tide. I made my oath; I've laid down my arms in this mourning year of Murtock. You will have your corpse, that you can put your dead to rest as we put ours."

The captain would nod slowly at that.

"Anne, burning bridges with our friends now that both Luna and Murtock are dead achieves nothing but damnation. Our god does not tolerate fools."
(Maertock Reave)
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 He'd come expecting a fight, that goes without saying. It is in his eyes, that gleam, and in his demeanor, with his back still straight. He is no match in height for the fish of the deep, several inches shorter, but what a sight they both of them must be, standing off in front of one another in such a manner.

Lyael does not fumble, but he does find himself at a loss for words. The ire in him, the willingness to sever these ties that had been built between them was all too simple, in his mind.

With his back against the wall once, life had shined a light upon his pupils, dilating them, a beam into his mind that pointed out that he truly did feel like a lone wolf. That he couldn't trust any to sit at his back.

Sparkle is in defiance of such a feeling, and now, it seemed so was the Captain? Did he matter to them? Such whispers run deep in his already addled mind, and Lyael has to actively grunt to clear up the words others could not hear. He wouldn't allow himself to fall prey to that which hides in the dark, he was better than that.

And perhaps, along those lines just as well, idling alongside them rests Maertock, Captain of the Deep, fulfiller of life, hedonist all abound, for all the reasons in the world, seeming so pathetic drew him to an absolute stand still.

No fight in him?

Family being lost must do that to someone. He felt paralyzed when he found out Luna perished, confused when he'd heard of Murtock's death. What, then, of blood relation? Does one feel it amplified by times ten?

A hundred?

He can only presume it to be a fate perhaps worse than death itself.

And yet, all of this introspection does nothing for the air between them. He simply stares before slowly nodding his head, "Yes. I shall make certain that Luna receives the proper treatment."

What else can he say? Should he apologize?
Offer his condolences? That had never been. . his thing.

"And you'll have your year. Rest well, then, because I don't intend to sit idle any longer." The unspoken, 'and you shouldn't, either' is left in the air.

He does, however, bring acrid eyes toward Anne. If it had been this simple, why had she made it such a fuss? Beyond that, who was she to mouth off in the here and now?

He'd tell her to remember her place as a swashbuckler, but she flirted with death and did so lovingly. No, there could be nothing gained from threats of the mouth.

He'd prefer to get hands on.

And thus, he waits.
For the body, that is.
(Lyael)
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 Her eyes flickered to Maertock, and now he bore the snarl.

"Did your brother take your backbone with him?"

The corpse of Luna was theirs, its fate to honour Murtock. Thus had always been the intent. Now he was wavering?

"We have always sacrificed those marked by the Black Spot. Why now should we change that? For these, those who did nothing to tame the rabid animal? No. This I will not permit without blood. I am His Priestess, through me He speaks His will."

Her hands had fallen to her daggers already.

"If you want the corpse, you'll be taking it by force, because one thing, I assure you, is certain. You will not be burying her."

If a sacrifice was denied? She'd simply blow the damn thing apart. Better that than it be interred with another faith's rituals.
(Anne orn Salis)
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 Tired as she was, Shining Sparkle wouldn't be leaving Lyael to fend for himself in this instance. A nod of acknowledgement is given to Maertock before she'd set her sights upon Anne. "I don't think Murtock would've wanted the Deep Company to make an enemy of Moxtli. To put it bluntly, you wouldn't stand a chance against us. This is a silly thing to be stubborn about."

A corpse was a corpse, after all. Yet it was one that meant something to many of her people. They couldn't simply leave things be.

"The only blood being shed would be yours and your Captain clearly doesn't want that. Just give us what we want and we'll get going."
(Shining Sparkle)
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 Maertock would take a soft drag from his cigar as his massive, webbed hands dug into the seams of his pockets. The malaise that hung about the reaver lord of the south coast was almost palpable in his cloak of inky shadows; cold and lifeless like a rainy day in the flesh. Such was what came of losing one's brother; even more so of losing one's twin. The hollow in his soul was not one easily filled.

"I will have a clear mind after this year; my thoughts must be dedicated until then to honoring my brother's memory. He was my twin; I admit it feels as if part of my own soul has been fragmented; left hollow."

But Anne's words appeared to stir the captain into a black rage. His serrated teeth would shatter as his hand slowly tapped along the handle of Saltspite's cutlass, his blood suddenly aching with violence.

"You've got a lot of nerve Anne. We took you despite our old prejudices against humans. Gave you a place to call home. And you've got the gall to commit mutiny here and now; in his year of mourning?"

His tone was cold like the ocean depths, there was no light in it. None of that typical cheer.

"You doubt my courage to make hard decisions? Very well. Shining, Lyael, this one isn't part of my crew anymore. Not under my protection. You can HAVE her."

The captain would return to his seat at the table and booze. It appeared the duo would need to fight for two bodies.
(Maertock Reave)
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 Perhaps this was not an expected result. He absolutely cannot claim to have seen it coming, but he feels that it was, perhaps, the only way to go about it.

Would she be mourned? Likely, Maertock would find it in himself to at least feel sadness for her passing, if it came to that. But, he supposes ultimately it is an understandable decision.

"She won't be buried."

That much should be known now, though he need not advise all of the plans. He has long since given up on providing D'noxa with the bodies of enemies, not from his own hand.

But he would most certainly not trust that task to her with the bodies of their own. To the spirits, a proper sacrifice, not a burial, not a trap for the core she hopes will empower Moxtli.

Nay, he shall deliver Luna in the way one would.

Death and rebirth.
To feast upon ever-lasting life, for the hunt.

The cycle will continue. Still. There isn't aneed, as said before, to promise this, and instead he moves forward, pausing only slightly in realization that Sparkle still did in fact tail him. Crafty rabbit, he'd speak to her about it later.

"You've heard him, you no longer have any sway, no longer a rank, no longer a purpose." Oh, how he knows she must be surprised as they, but she likely won't back down even then.

It would seem that battle would be due. He'd preserve what he could, not to mark her up too badly. After all, he needs merely to get his point across.

"Revel, you'll receive what you desired."
(Lyael)
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 Anne turned to face Maertock -or his back as it were.

"You took me in, yes, and I wholeheartedly embraced our ways. Worked my way up. Embraced the faith, and rose high enough in His esteem to be named a Priestess, His voice amongst our crew. And now, in a matter of our faith, you deny me? He owns my soul, Maertock. I know I will be welcomed within him. And to think I thought the same of you. I suppose I should have realised that without Murtock, you're no real Captain."

She spat at his feet, before her attention returned to Lyael and Shining.

"Come then; but this ends with your death or mine. The Mori would accept no less from me."

Blasphemy to speak His name openly? Perhaps Anne considered this something of a ritual herself.

She took a deep breath, raising her dagger for what would perhaps be the last time.
(Anne orn Salis)
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 It was an unexpected development to say the least. At the same time, it was wise of the Captain from the entertainer's perspective. Anne's words were reckless at best.

She tilts her head in the absurdly tall Ookami's direction.

"Ah. Sacrificing her to the spirits wouldn't be a bad idea. But, well... it's up to you, Lyael."

At this point, she was simply looking at it objectively. Her sole goal today was assuring his safety.
(Shining Sparkle)
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 Maertock would take a long, considerate drag from his cigar as he watched over the proceedings, the ruthless, shadowy captain of the Deep Company seeming to become more of himself in this decision. To focus his sorrow instead on the true source of his power; black hearted resentment. With a light sigh, minty smoke would rise from his dry, reddened gills.

"The Mori's blessing is upon me; Anne. His shadow is my own. You only ever saw what you wished to see; and in that you have been blinded. Pride cometh before the fall."

The captain's grim tone was absolute, as cold as a dark winter. There was no doubt or sorrow in it, only resolution.

"I was always in Murtock's shadow, it was how we did it best. He drew the attention while I worked from the shadows. We were a dynamic duo, brothers of destruction, I loved him more than any soul in this vast, empty world."

The captain would spit on the ground.

"You are lost in the deep sea, smoothskin. Drown."
(Maertock Reave)
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 He'll get the body no matter what, he reckons.

He can get as rough as he wants, or be as gentle as he pleases. If he's gentle, he can at least properly sacrifice her, the right way. To bring sloppy nothings to the spirits? That's purely disrespectful.

So, he thumbs his lip with a claw whilst Maertock and Sparkle speak, whilst Anne professes her undying loyalty and knowledge of her promised afterlife.

"I've decided," he cuts in, only once all the talking was said and done. "Your common sense died with Murtock and Luna. So, we'll let you think about it over the long rebirth."

He engages, then. Gentle it is. He aims to preserve her in the best way possible, while still seeking to snatch her for the occasion.
(Lyael)
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He wishes he could say that this was an easy hunt, that it was handled flawlessly. In truth? Anne fought hard, brave and with a soul full of tenacity. Foraging on through his punishing might, strength promised at birth, a calling given before he'd come into the world.

No, this was no easy hunt at all, but it was a hunt indeed. Like them all it comes to an end as the two prowl around one another, circling before finally closing in for the finale of their dance. their first, their last.

He cannot say that he respects this woman, not really, not truly. He does not respect many people. But, he holds as much for some of her actions. Her desire to defend her choice, her willingness to go along with this? Her will to battle until the very end?

Yes, indeed, Lyael respects those traits very much, simply not the woman that held them.

Ever-lasting rebirth!

The promise that continues through eternity.

In the traces of his mind does he hear that whisper, the demand, the desire--be it his own or the envoy, to bring this all to an end. To bring her back to D'noxa would promise nothing, Lyael understands, knocking aside her twin daggers and plunging his blade into her with neat precision. It prods the abdomen, this area, where she will bleed the most, where she will continue to fight as she leaks from the lungs.

He is much like the creature he is, a wolf, in moments like these. Watching her tirelessly swing and strike and attack and give her very all until she is barely on her feet.

Lyael enjoys this, despite the horrid circumstances. He licks his lips whilst observing, defending yes, but observing. To this very moment, where he finally takes the broad side of Celeste and bashes it against her skull, sending her toppling to the ground.

"Riihiihihi. . ."

A raspy, heavy laugh that pitches on the high side escapes him. It resembles a cough with how he cackles, the splitting grin across his features giving easy understanding of his joy.

The hunt. A worthy prey.

Lyael is not kind, even as she is down, defeated. He lays a boot against her wound and presses down to further spurt blood from the spot, "You're done, aren'tcha?"

More so to the wind than to her. She knows she is, he know she is. "It was fun, it really was. So I'll list all the things I enjoyed about our hunt while ya' fade away into nothing, cuz I wanna see that adamant, ferocious gleam in those eyes of yours die out."

Another cackle, more rasp.

"I was reminded of a lemming. Know'em? They're little creatures that act like absolute idiots just moments before they die, it's like their brains just turn off and they run right into the embrace of oblivion. They run in packs, just until then. And then at the point of that long sleep? Rhihihi, they just let it all go!"

Anne is a lemming.

"You're gonna be honored! This is the most exciting part, I love this part, cuz you don't deserve it. But I'm gonna give it to ya' anyways. D'noxa won't get her hands on yooou, no she won't. You'll be taken apart and only the best parts of your body will be offered up to Asena and Saekanis. The rest will be mine! aaaalll mine!"

Balance.

Fair trade.

". . That's about it. So, let's hear it," he presses harder then, on her wound, enciting more blood, "Your final words."
(Lyael)
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 The -former- Quartermaster fights hard, daggers flashing as her cosmic magic does, blood shed from her and the beastkin turned to her weapon. Even in her ferocity, she steadily becomes aware that the fight is not winnable. Not that it stopped her from fighting any less aggressively.

After all, all blood was to the exultation of the Deep One.

Her daggers are knocked aside, and his blade breaks through her mythril armour, leaving her stomach bare. It is not human skin. No, instead the flesh is rubbery and a bruised purple, distinctly unnatural. To Maertock, recognisable. The Deep One had been changing her for a while now.

She was sad he'd not been able to finish.

Even still, more swings continue. The strike of the weapon into her skull sends her down.

There's a cry of pain as the greater wound is aggravated, but a rasping laugh follows it, blood bubbling from her lips, as well as something else.Water?

She pushed herself up on shaky arms, eyes marking Maertock.

"If will be a good replacement."

A nomination for her successor.

"If he doesn't try to kill you for this, at least."

Because, in this moment, Maertock had betrayed her. Not that she could find it within herself much to care.

Her head turned back to Lyael, softly glowing eyes settling on his own.

"You were a -HAK- worthy fight. Death in battle is ideal. But I wouldn't concern yourself with my body..."

She belonged to the Deep One, to the Mori. They didn't think she'd leave something some droll as a corpse, did they?

"Ahf' ah mglw'nafh ahornah mgsyha'h ah'mglw'nafh. H' llll ah'lw'nafh h' Moriae."

Her eyes stretched out wide as they could, and with a final, rapturous laugh, she melted into dark, salty water, leaving behind those things her immortal -and forever His- soul no longer required.

So Andromeda Salis' tale came to an end....and yet lived on forever, one more cell of a great eye.

(Anne orn Salis)
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Shining Sparkle peeks out from behind Gajin and squints, beholding the results of the battle with uncertainty. On one hand, she'd expected him to win. On the other? She wasn't entirely used to seeing this side of him.

At the end of the day though, he was a predator. It didn't make him any less her friend.

She scratches the back of her head as Anne's body dissolves into salt water, her confusion plain as day. What a strange experience it'd all been.

"I guess we just... need Luna's corpse now. Then we can head back."
(Shining Sparkle)
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 Well, he should rightly be angry, shouldn't he?

It was his kill, his reward, and now his offering was gone to, what? Something as silly as yet another god or deity? It wasn't right. His teeth grit, all enjoyment from the idea of what was to come now gone.

He stares at the pile for what feels like several minutes, not speaking, not moving. Perhaps he's bubbling over?

Lyael emits a gargantuan sigh and rubs a bloody hand over his face, eyes closing as he stands. All her mortal items are left behind as she flees the coil.

"Maertock. She denied me my prize, I want something of hers."
(Lyael)
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[02:23] As Gajin watched the display of raw sorcery his lips spread into a smile. That was something impressive all right. Though he couldn't help but ponder how the syllables of her speech rolled so jumbled. It was quite different than the rites of Garljing.

Still, he'd not say anything. Instead simply observing the outcome in a silent respect and awaiting for the return of his letters.
(Gajin)
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 Maertock would watch Lyael's savagery as he progressively hunted Anne in his chosen grounds. The Captain of the Deep Company was not unfamiliar with the sensation of death; even less so with the brutality that manifested with it. He had sentenced her to death; he had the stones to see it through without blinking.

As her cosmic tides ebbed and flowed in the twilight of her life. As they danced in unison as one, the crescendo reached its peak as Anne devolved into the old tongue, her life force ebbing as Lyael prepared for his feast. As Anne began to foam, the Captain's words were absolute.

"Sink."

A single word that said a thousand, cold and immovable as a mountain against the coast during a high storm. Unshaken, unmoved as she ceased to exist. Already as her body began to decay, he had begun to void them from their mind. The easiest way a master of shadows had; to simply disappear things and move on.

As she fell, Maertock's dark shadows would already be stretching far and wide, plunging through the depths of the seaside cavern and dredging back through darkness that defied spatial sense a body wrapped in linen. Set down before them by one of Maertock's dark tentacles as he took a dreg from his bottle of Valmasian Brandy.

This was the end of this era of the crew, and the beginning of the next. The Deep Company with only him making decisions at the top; as he fell further and further into the dark.

"I don't want to see anything of her ever again. You can have all she possessed on her person. Luna's body lies here for you to return. So the wind blows; and so it passes on."
(Maertock Reave)
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 "Alright then."

And he pilfers, though it does nothing for him. He holds no desire for any of this, it is absolutely nothing, physical items that can be made up at any point.

All that is there, amongst the plentiful, are a pair of daggers that she utilized well with her strength. Now, left to the grounds. "My prize will be her livelihood."

And life, it would seem. "Luna's body then, and I will be going." We, perhaps, since Sparkle is present.

But maybe he's still upset.

"Greave well."

He will gather Luna's corpse and depart, Sparkle possibly in tow.
(Lyael)
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] Shining Sparkle smiles. She'd had an answer for Gajin, yet he was already gone!

Luckily she hadn't actually prepared to go with him.

Once Lyael had gotten hold of the corpse, she follows along after him.
(Shining Sparkle)
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 Maertock would nod steadily at that, taking a drag from his cigar as the business was handled and done with. The black hearted reaver had officially stopped playing nice. His tolerance for annoyances that his brother had instilled in him had been removed; and in tandem so had Anne's life. No longer would any question his decisions.

The Captain's word was law.

"Yes, take them and rejoice in having cured me of a headache in my time of mourning. I can return to my drink in peace with the assurance that fool won't muck things up."

The captain was a ruthless one, of that there was no doubt. He didn't even say her name as he began to pace away; she had already been discounted. It was done.

"You two as well. Blood flows freely; and now wounds must heal. This is the way."

Without much in ways of further words, the captain had disappeared into the shadows.
(Maertock Reave)
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A few hours later...




 Maertock would appear to be cleaning his hands of blood as Vesper arrived, the Captain of the Deep Company seemingly....more decisive, more contented than he was before. As if up until now, the emptiness in his chest had nothing to fill it; but exertion of his black rage had given him savor. The man was as ever deep in his cups as he waved.

"Change of management. Had a disagreement with Anne, she slipped and fell onto the wrong claws. She's with the deep now; settled our troubles with the Moxtli in one fell swoop. Does however leave a position open in my crew for a tinker Vesper."

The captain of the Deep Company would nod steadily at that, patting the ambitious young man upon the shoulder with a firm nod.

"You'd have a room on the ship, all of Anne's vast artificing resources, and as much alcohol and drugs as you can consume. Could even pass over the tavern to you in time as suits your fancy; I assume there's a part of you that is still fond of bartending."
(Maertock Reave)
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 He wanted to pay respects, but he was being presented with an offer that was more than enough for reason for him to join. Though, hearing that Anne has slipped and fell into the claws of someone did make him curious, Vesper didn't mind it. Instead, Vesper would simply sit down and nod at the proposition before responding truly.

"Sounds good, I wouldn't mind helping you out, and giving you a way to do such a thing as well."

"It would be for Murtock, anyway, he cared about the crew, and to leave you guys to your own devices would be awful."

"Though, I do have my own stakes in the matter... that go through my head."

As he sits down, Vesper brings his hands down to the table and looks at Maetrock with a questionary look to come through. The Fireblooded needed men by the many, and if there is anyone else that he knew was charismatic, it was the Reaves. They had allies, and those allies can lead to pushing Osrona back.

"Fireblooded needs capable men."
(Vesper)
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 Maertock would click his rows of serrated teeth together as he took another drag from his cigar, the Captain of the Deep Company mulling over Vesper's answer with consideration before nodding firmly. To think only a decade had passed, and once they'd been robbing Fireblooded left and right upon the beachfront.

To think they'd become practically brothers to the northern dragons; it was a long and lonesome tale.

"I'll sweeten the pot, even. You'll have Anne's cabin as well as her resources, as well as access to all of our expeditions into the black depths and your fair share of accursed treasure. Now that she's passed on, things will be shifting in the years to come."

The captain of the Deep Company would nod sagely at that.

"And return for you formally joining, I will inherit Murtock's blood debt to Varceal and aid in the defense of the temple's sovereignty. Assuming you become our crew's tinker in our crazy adventures to come."

Maertock would hum softly.

"Greeting Syan. Merely discussing options. If would make a good quartermaster and Vesper a good tinker; dividing the roles Anne held before her death."
(Maertock Reave)
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 Syan'eth asks, "Understandable. I worked for you at The Reef so far. Will things change for me?"
 Maertock Reave says, "No. Your job remains."
 Maertock Reave says, "Anne showed me a kernel of truth. I had lost my edge."
 Vesper says, "It seems like a good deal."
 Maertock Reave says, "It has returned. I will not suffer fools any longer."
 Maertock Reave says, "There will be much mourning to do this year, but I will be continuing our expedition's to the depths in Anne's Maertock Reave says, "The Deep Company moves on..."
 Maertock Reave says, "At the least, I have handled Moxtli for now. I can mourn in peace."

Maertock Reave says, "Ah yes, Vesper. Follow me, let us give you your key to your new cabin."
 Maertock Reave says, "And then we can depart for your workshop. I've a commission to make."
 Maertock Reave says, "Yes."
 Maertock Reave says, "Yours now to expand your talents, and much much more to come."
 Maertock Reave says, "The deep has rare and unnatural resources fit for such pursuits."
 Maertock Reave says, "Welcome aboard, now. Let's head to your workshop, I have a comission of legend."
 Maertock Reave says, "Oh I mean your fancier one. "
 Maertock Reave says, "It is worth it. Enough arcanium for a full suit."

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 Maertock would follow along with Vesper; his freshly anointed crew tinker, to the depths of Theria's mountains as they entered his mysterious workshop. The Captain of the Deep Company was nothing if not the inquisitive sort, and that went doubly so for such engineering operations. He lacked proficiency for such naturally, but even still he could appreciate it.

As they entered the demesne of the rift artificer, Maertock would slowly remove four massive ingots of arcanium; the twinkling divine metal still covered in Anne's blood as he hummed with contentedness and clicked his serrated teeth together.

"With them dead, the resources of the crew are no longer bound by her foolishness and frugality. This will be the first major action I take as the sole authority, nay, the Admiral of the Deep Company, for myself. At last, for myself."

The captain's avarice was thick in the room's air. Dense like his inky shadow. It was obvioushe'd long resisted using this arcanium out of irritation with Anne's antics, and now at last he felt truly, fully in control of the ship.

"I seek a suit of scale plate and mail to be drawn out of this arcanium; empowered with as much brutality as you can weave into their prismatic scales. The more runes of power you can stuff in, the better. It will be my Admiral's Attire."

The Captain would nod slowly at that.

"The scales overlapping were an Atlantean fashion at one time, largely kinetic dispersal as the overlapping segments divide energy that is taken directly to the plates. It is a personal touch, but I trust you to produce the Cuirass of the Admiral and the Greaves of the Admiral with mastery. It has to be two kings worth of audacious."
(Maertock Reave)