Her gun is in her hands and pointed towards the porthole of her quarters before her brain is anywhere approaching consciousness. Fortunately, waking up even a little only takes a quick second, and that's enough for Aria to stop herself from pulling the trigger. "Oh, it's one of you girls. You know, one of these days, you really should learn to knock."
After all, it's not like there are a lot of other creatures out in the open seas which would be able to scale the side of a sailing ship to knock on the window of the captain's quarters. Most would be up to no good, and thus Aria's quick gun hand... but the woman leaning in from the port hole isn't one of them. After so long of going through the water's of the ocean, she's still never gotten an answer for how the Cervello actually open her window from the inside... Especially since she's pretty sure it's not actually physically capable of being opened normally. Aria doesn't worry too much about it. All she does is pull back her gun hand and remove her finger from the trigger before an unfortunate accident happens.
Does the particular Cervello woman at her window appreciate the effort? It can be hard to say, and for more reasons than the fact that they all tend to be rather stoic and cool headed types. All she does is adjust her weight, which is no doubt being rested fully on her elbows. It's not like she has an alternative, even if there was something beneath her body besides empty salt air. "We'll take it into consideration," the Cervello says simply.
"I'm simply saying," she yawns, letting her blanket drop from where she'd had it clutched at her chest. Distantly, she's aware of the soft sensation of it slinking down her chest and coiling at her bare hips, but it's not exactly the most pressing of her concerns. She's a lot more invested in the fact that, with all this adrenaline coursing through her body, how much of a pain it's going to be to get back to sleep. Well, she can deal with that in a little bit. For now, she allows her brain to catch up with how much energy had rushed to the rest of her body and keeps her gun still in her hand. Just in case. As she stretches her arms up over her head, Aria squints open one eye to rest on the waiting Cervello.
They're not a kind of siren, of that she's fairly certain. It's a common misconception amongst landlubbers, that sirens and mer are the same thing. The main difference is obviously that one has feathers and the other has scales. Whether mer have variants that sing in much the same way as the sirens, well, that's something Aria plans on never learning for herself or her crew if she can get away with it, because, by that distance, it's often too late for any good outcome. By that trail of logic, the Cervello women would thus have to be mer. There's only one problem with that, and it's a problem Aria can't help but wonder about when the seas are kind and none of her crew are being problematic bastards: the top halves all look the same.
Now, Aria can't say she's an expert on the mer. They're a cautious type of folk even on the good end of things, preferring to generally keep their distance from the nonsense of humans. Sure, there's always talk of an individual doing a favor- saving a life from a downed ship, trading with a fisherman, giving pearls to a human who did them a favor once. But a whole group of them? Unheard of.
Unheard of save for in the captain's quarters of the Black Lily, where Aria was told by her own mother once upon a time about the group of women who would aid her far out in the expanse of the sea. And they are all different women. Even if Aria hadn't seen more than one of them at the same time, she would know that for a fact. That is something no myth has ever touched on for the mer. Can Aria be blamed for wondering, then?
Mer or not, they're a surprisingly shy lot, and that's how she gets situations like this where she's woken up in the middle of the night. They won't talk to her crew, they won't show up on the deck where they can be easily seen, and she's never seen them show up near any ports despite the fact that she's seen them in just about every sort of water that she's sailed. Well, she won't begrudge the way they choose to live their life. So long as they never mess with hers, anyway.
Aria finally rises up to her feet, tossing the blanket carelessly to side even as she uses the barrel of her gun to flip her hair away from her front. "So for what do I owe the pleasure?" she asks, meeting the eyes which hide behind a masquerade mask. All of the Cervello wear one, and she thinks it's an interchangeable sort of thing. They have a preference for the black and whites, however, and don't seem to care for hiding their mouths.
There's the distant sound of scale flowing against wood, heavy and thick. The Cervello woman tilts her head to the side. "You're going to sail straight into a storm with the course you're set at."
"Really now?" Aria makes her way over to the porthole herself, and the Cervello adjusts herself as best as she's able so that Aria can poke her head outside. In the absence of light, sun or candle, it's a little easier to make out changes in the ocean air and sky. Sure enough, when she closes her eyes to block out everything completely, she can pick up the faintest difference in the air. For all the thick salt she's grown used to, there's something a little sweet entwined throughout it. When she looks out towards the bow, she thinks she can see the very most distant bit of light. It's so thin, it's practically a spiderweb on the horizon. If she hadn't been told about it, Aria knows she never would have even noticed it was there. "Looks like you're right. I imagine it must be nothing to sneeze at, if you're here telling me about it."
"I would imagine it could pose a problem to most humans," the Cervello says, her voice gaining just a bit of dryness that wouldn't last a second on the rest of her body. Aria grins.
"Well, I suppose we should keep that into consideration, even if I think we're not exactly most humans," she says, and turns her back to the lantern at her bedside. Time to light the midnight oil. "I might have to put a shirt on, too, if I'm going to be yelling at everyone over the sound of the waves and thunder."
There is not an immediate response, whether through voice or the sound of someone flinging herself away from the porthole down into the dark waters below. Aria notices it and doesn't comment on the fact. Most of her focus is swearing over the clicks and hisses of trying to make fire start like it's supposed to. "I suppose you will," the Cervello finally says, voice as quiet and cool as usual. Yet the words that come right after undermine her tone. "There is a island nearby as an alternative, I suppose. Safety versus time is a choice you can make."
What a very polite offer, and one Aria doesn't think her kind would offer to anyone else, assuming they talk to anyone else at all. Still, she's interested. Certainly they could fight through the storm if they really wanted to, and that would save them, what? A few hours, a night, which they would then have to whittle away by repairing any damages that might have torn along their sails or goods? Goods that could get lost in the turbulent ocean? It's a choice, sure, but really hardly one in the end. Better to drop anchor, guarantee a bit of safety for themselves and for the things they have on board. Besides, her crew are pirates. She's fairly certain some other more... law abiding sorts might be following in their direction. If it's an island one of the Cervello is recommending to her, then it's likely to be an island not many others would recognize, let alone know the existence of. If anyone is chasing right after them, then they'll get caught up in the storm too and go right past her and her own.
"How do we get to this island of yours, then?" she asks, satisfied now that she has a lantern going. Of course, she has to move back over to the porthole when the Cervello leans back with only one hand gripping on. Every race has a different name for the stars that stretch across the sky and which their sailors use to navigate. Those who dwell within the sea, siren or mer or Cervello, are no exception. Aria can't say she recognizes the names, even with all her scattered knowledge across different tongues, but she recognizes what the Cervello points out. "That way, then. Very well."
"Just go that way-" But when the Cervello turns back to the porthole, she turns right into the crook of Aria's neck. She can feel the way she freezes up like this, and Aria smiles into the side of the Cervello's hair. To tease her further, she keeps the woman right where she is with her hand curving around her back and holds her closer. Arias has never touched a mer, so she can't say if it's similar, the way the Cervello is so cool against her body. More importantly, however...
She looks down, following the warm brown of the Cervello's skin until it disappears into pale mauve scales. Still letting her hand rest on the Cervello's back, Aria pulls away a little so that she can smile into her face. The skin on the woman's face is a little darker, and not just from the mask resting on her face. "You're the one who told us about the kraken corpse a few months back, aren't you? I can recognize your scales from the rest of your kin." The mask hides any other expression, but it can't hide how the Cervello straightens up in surprise and interest. "Well, in exchange for help like that, I don't mind if you're a little more honest about wanting to see me without my shirt."
Now that gets to her. The Cervello lowers her head, frowning, and possibly to hide any further evidence of an even deeper blush. "...You have bad habits, Captian Aria Giglio Nero. Humans should stick to wearing clothing as they always do."
"And you Cervello should be more honest and upfront," she counters, smiling as she pulls her hand back upwards only for the Cervello to curl it near her cheek. She says nothing, only pushes herself away from the side of the ship and down into the water.
How her ancestor, Captain Sepira Giglio Nero, ever made a bond with such a people is a mystery to Aria. Still, she knows one thing for certain: she's interested in forging a unique bond of her own with them.
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After all, it's not like there are a lot of other creatures out in the open seas which would be able to scale the side of a sailing ship to knock on the window of the captain's quarters. Most would be up to no good, and thus Aria's quick gun hand... but the woman leaning in from the port hole isn't one of them. After so long of going through the water's of the ocean, she's still never gotten an answer for how the Cervello actually open her window from the inside... Especially since she's pretty sure it's not actually physically capable of being opened normally. Aria doesn't worry too much about it. All she does is pull back her gun hand and remove her finger from the trigger before an unfortunate accident happens.
Does the particular Cervello woman at her window appreciate the effort? It can be hard to say, and for more reasons than the fact that they all tend to be rather stoic and cool headed types. All she does is adjust her weight, which is no doubt being rested fully on her elbows. It's not like she has an alternative, even if there was something beneath her body besides empty salt air. "We'll take it into consideration," the Cervello says simply.
"I'm simply saying," she yawns, letting her blanket drop from where she'd had it clutched at her chest. Distantly, she's aware of the soft sensation of it slinking down her chest and coiling at her bare hips, but it's not exactly the most pressing of her concerns. She's a lot more invested in the fact that, with all this adrenaline coursing through her body, how much of a pain it's going to be to get back to sleep. Well, she can deal with that in a little bit. For now, she allows her brain to catch up with how much energy had rushed to the rest of her body and keeps her gun still in her hand. Just in case. As she stretches her arms up over her head, Aria squints open one eye to rest on the waiting Cervello.
They're not a kind of siren, of that she's fairly certain. It's a common misconception amongst landlubbers, that sirens and mer are the same thing. The main difference is obviously that one has feathers and the other has scales. Whether mer have variants that sing in much the same way as the sirens, well, that's something Aria plans on never learning for herself or her crew if she can get away with it, because, by that distance, it's often too late for any good outcome. By that trail of logic, the Cervello women would thus have to be mer. There's only one problem with that, and it's a problem Aria can't help but wonder about when the seas are kind and none of her crew are being problematic bastards: the top halves all look the same.
Now, Aria can't say she's an expert on the mer. They're a cautious type of folk even on the good end of things, preferring to generally keep their distance from the nonsense of humans. Sure, there's always talk of an individual doing a favor- saving a life from a downed ship, trading with a fisherman, giving pearls to a human who did them a favor once. But a whole group of them? Unheard of.
Unheard of save for in the captain's quarters of the Black Lily, where Aria was told by her own mother once upon a time about the group of women who would aid her far out in the expanse of the sea. And they are all different women. Even if Aria hadn't seen more than one of them at the same time, she would know that for a fact. That is something no myth has ever touched on for the mer. Can Aria be blamed for wondering, then?
Mer or not, they're a surprisingly shy lot, and that's how she gets situations like this where she's woken up in the middle of the night. They won't talk to her crew, they won't show up on the deck where they can be easily seen, and she's never seen them show up near any ports despite the fact that she's seen them in just about every sort of water that she's sailed. Well, she won't begrudge the way they choose to live their life. So long as they never mess with hers, anyway.
Aria finally rises up to her feet, tossing the blanket carelessly to side even as she uses the barrel of her gun to flip her hair away from her front. "So for what do I owe the pleasure?" she asks, meeting the eyes which hide behind a masquerade mask. All of the Cervello wear one, and she thinks it's an interchangeable sort of thing. They have a preference for the black and whites, however, and don't seem to care for hiding their mouths.
There's the distant sound of scale flowing against wood, heavy and thick. The Cervello woman tilts her head to the side. "You're going to sail straight into a storm with the course you're set at."
"Really now?" Aria makes her way over to the porthole herself, and the Cervello adjusts herself as best as she's able so that Aria can poke her head outside. In the absence of light, sun or candle, it's a little easier to make out changes in the ocean air and sky. Sure enough, when she closes her eyes to block out everything completely, she can pick up the faintest difference in the air. For all the thick salt she's grown used to, there's something a little sweet entwined throughout it. When she looks out towards the bow, she thinks she can see the very most distant bit of light. It's so thin, it's practically a spiderweb on the horizon. If she hadn't been told about it, Aria knows she never would have even noticed it was there. "Looks like you're right. I imagine it must be nothing to sneeze at, if you're here telling me about it."
"I would imagine it could pose a problem to most humans," the Cervello says, her voice gaining just a bit of dryness that wouldn't last a second on the rest of her body. Aria grins.
"Well, I suppose we should keep that into consideration, even if I think we're not exactly most humans," she says, and turns her back to the lantern at her bedside. Time to light the midnight oil. "I might have to put a shirt on, too, if I'm going to be yelling at everyone over the sound of the waves and thunder."
There is not an immediate response, whether through voice or the sound of someone flinging herself away from the porthole down into the dark waters below. Aria notices it and doesn't comment on the fact. Most of her focus is swearing over the clicks and hisses of trying to make fire start like it's supposed to. "I suppose you will," the Cervello finally says, voice as quiet and cool as usual. Yet the words that come right after undermine her tone. "There is a island nearby as an alternative, I suppose. Safety versus time is a choice you can make."
What a very polite offer, and one Aria doesn't think her kind would offer to anyone else, assuming they talk to anyone else at all. Still, she's interested. Certainly they could fight through the storm if they really wanted to, and that would save them, what? A few hours, a night, which they would then have to whittle away by repairing any damages that might have torn along their sails or goods? Goods that could get lost in the turbulent ocean? It's a choice, sure, but really hardly one in the end. Better to drop anchor, guarantee a bit of safety for themselves and for the things they have on board. Besides, her crew are pirates. She's fairly certain some other more... law abiding sorts might be following in their direction. If it's an island one of the Cervello is recommending to her, then it's likely to be an island not many others would recognize, let alone know the existence of. If anyone is chasing right after them, then they'll get caught up in the storm too and go right past her and her own.
"How do we get to this island of yours, then?" she asks, satisfied now that she has a lantern going. Of course, she has to move back over to the porthole when the Cervello leans back with only one hand gripping on. Every race has a different name for the stars that stretch across the sky and which their sailors use to navigate. Those who dwell within the sea, siren or mer or Cervello, are no exception. Aria can't say she recognizes the names, even with all her scattered knowledge across different tongues, but she recognizes what the Cervello points out. "That way, then. Very well."
"Just go that way-" But when the Cervello turns back to the porthole, she turns right into the crook of Aria's neck. She can feel the way she freezes up like this, and Aria smiles into the side of the Cervello's hair. To tease her further, she keeps the woman right where she is with her hand curving around her back and holds her closer. Arias has never touched a mer, so she can't say if it's similar, the way the Cervello is so cool against her body. More importantly, however...
She looks down, following the warm brown of the Cervello's skin until it disappears into pale mauve scales. Still letting her hand rest on the Cervello's back, Aria pulls away a little so that she can smile into her face. The skin on the woman's face is a little darker, and not just from the mask resting on her face. "You're the one who told us about the kraken corpse a few months back, aren't you? I can recognize your scales from the rest of your kin." The mask hides any other expression, but it can't hide how the Cervello straightens up in surprise and interest. "Well, in exchange for help like that, I don't mind if you're a little more honest about wanting to see me without my shirt."
Now that gets to her. The Cervello lowers her head, frowning, and possibly to hide any further evidence of an even deeper blush. "...You have bad habits, Captian Aria Giglio Nero. Humans should stick to wearing clothing as they always do."
"And you Cervello should be more honest and upfront," she counters, smiling as she pulls her hand back upwards only for the Cervello to curl it near her cheek. She says nothing, only pushes herself away from the side of the ship and down into the water.
How her ancestor, Captain Sepira Giglio Nero, ever made a bond with such a people is a mystery to Aria. Still, she knows one thing for certain: she's interested in forging a unique bond of her own with them.