In the Tremulous Hands of the Sea

-ˋˏ ༻6༺ ˎˊ-

My time with the crew lasted a good three hours. The time had escaped me, for I was surrounded by lively drunkards, the food was stolen directly from Karnage (so it was pretty fresh), and I was far hungrier than usual. The men seemed excited to see a new face, and I matched their energy throughout the day, but their rambunctiousness soon became too much for me to handle. In an effort to calm my mind from the avalanche of noise that had been roaring through it, I retreated to my cabin and reclined on my surprisingly comfortable bed to collect myself. Once my joints were relieved by the supportive surface, I snuggled up and drifted so deeply into thought that I lost perception of all my senses.

Sure, the captain was becoming tolerable, but I could not say the same for her brother. He seemed like a generally warm and lively fellow, but he was also obnoxiously theatrical and flippant. He teased me in a similar way to how Kalina did, but it felt so much different. I didn't feel flattered, I felt uneasy.

Also, he often appeared amused by me, but I never understood why, and that made me nervous. He and the other crewmen would seem to belittle me telepathically, as they met my comments with stolen glances from each other and poorly concealed snickers. I didn't feel like I could be lighthearted with him, for I inevitably feared that I should've been embarrassed for a reason that only he'd picked up on. 

The other men seemed nice enough. I found myself most apt to connect to Arvad and Sterling. The two seemed remarkably close and their banter was rather entertaining. I loved watching them joke with each other, for they did so with such wholesome kindness in their eyes. Even though Sterling never seemed like much of a talker, Arvad's mere presence seemed to coax the words right out of him. He was actually quite funny when he came out of his shell.

Fabian and Bastion were similar to Markos in the sense that they were aimless flirts. I generally avoided conversations with them because they never seemed serious and were vaguely threatening. They had this edge to them that made me uncomfortable.

There was also an older woman that visited. I hadn't met her with the rest of the crew along with a few others who were preoccupied when Kalina did her introduction. The woman apparently worked in the kitchen and she only stayed in the room for about five minutes.

I learned from Kalina that she was Alba, a cook,  and a former member of Markos' age-old crew— the group that sailed together before Kalina took over as its captain.

Kalina explained that the woman left the room abruptly because she grew anxious with the clamour of the intoxicated men.

I liked her from first glance. Her smile was inviting, but she looked remarkably tired with a type of fatigue that'd been brewing for years. I felt for her. Many of my caretakers in Karnage had that same air to them. How dreadful
it must be to rely so heavily on shelter that one must suffer through many lifetimes worth of arduous work? I thought.

I'd never struggled to survive. Sure, I'd been remarkably sorrowful from early childhood, but I had no real reason to be. I was remarked as one of the most esteemed Karnagians from the womb and was naturally the child of a wealthy family. I never lacked food, clothing, shelter, or any other commodities. I was merely dissatisfied with the standards I was held to and the expectation that I would marry a man.

As I soliloquised about my childhood, I heard a doorknob jiggle aggressively and slam shut. Sitting up abruptly, I dispelled my bedding, ready to examine the cabin area.

"Hey, are you okay?" Kalina's voice addressed me from just outside the doorway.

I sat up and parted the curtain. "Yes, I'm just relaxing," I replied.

" 'Bout your clothes, I'm too busy to become your personal tailor, and I have business near the Italian Riviera. What do you say we do a little garment shopping when we get down there?"