Logs:Dirty Cargo
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| RL Date: 3 May, 2013 |
| Who: Jo, Alec, The Red Man |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: While exchanging (stolen) goods, Jo runs into Z'ian's 'missing' brother. |
| Where: Somewhere along the northern coast |
| When: Day 2, Month 9, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Z'ian/Mentions |
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| Along the northern coast, autumn has already begun to hit. The wind has picked up along the beach and it's not quite the kind of place you would want to lounge around on, though who would when it was warm? The place is rocky and littered with odd sized boulders. The gulls scream overhead and the area is largely deserted, except for a boat that's come to throw anchor down in one of the deeper inlets. The sails were once a brilliant red, the thing that gave the vessel its namesake: The Red Gold. But they're tired now, dull and tattered at the edges of the old canvas. The word would have gone out well before, that they would be there waiting. The cargo they carried needed to be accounted for and then handed off, marks exchanged. A skiff has come out to shore, the oarmen reclined against the edge as they wait. A tall man sits hunched over and smoking as he looks to the sky, anticipating the arrival of someone apparently. The one the tall man waits for is coming around the bend, dressed in black leather and wild dark hair. With both hands in her pockets, perhaps concealing anything that she maybe holding onto, Jo arrives with the calm gait of someone that has no care in the world. She has the air of someone that thinks she owned the world, even. There's a tall man flanking her, bulky and tanned of skin and dressed in rustic reddish-browns that's been worn down from so much wear. The both of them are in quiet communication that can't be heard from far away, and it cuts off once they're both within the hearing distance of the man that smokes and waits for them. "Good, you're here!" the Red Man is the first to speak, hailing him for his attention. "You'll excuse us for being a little late? The, ah, bossman had us engaged in another task." Jo, for her part, her dragon seeming nowhere in sight along with her shoulderknot, merely gives the man a silent nod in greeting as she takes a step forward. The arrival doesn't come from the sky, but from around the bend. It's one of the oarmen that alerts the one smoking to their presence, reaching out and smacking him on the knee. He takes a long drag before standing, stretching his legs out and gingerly stepping out onto the rocks. The tall man is tall, more than his lanky limbs would have originally pegged him for. He's not old, but he's not young either. His age settled somewhere comfortable in the mid-thirties to early forties range. Lined, tanned face and long-ish dirty blonde hair. His eyes are dark hazel and his expression is far from an open book. He cracks his neck between inhales and levels a long look onto Jo, considering before turning to the Red Man. The accent is thick. Full of uneducated 'Reaches twists. "Don' 'ave much of choice, do I?" The question is rhetorical and he smiles faintly for it, the lines of his weathered face lightening up some. "We gonna make small talk all afternoon, or?" He jerks his chin in the direction of the skiff behind him. "You know I don' let 'em unload until it's settled up." There's a hint of caution to his tone, it might be the unknown factor of the bluerider that gets his hackles raised some. While the tall man speaks, Jo is studying him. She's the one that stays silent, not speaking unless she's spoken to and taking casual looks about them. The Red Man, on the other hand, is all cracked smiles and cold eyes. Like a tick, he jerks his chin towards the bluerider as he says in his own thick Cromese, "She's with me, and she's clean. Can I say the same about you?" Challenging that caution openly, it now having both his and Jo's full attention. "She's the one you deal with," he continues to say, seeming to have put that behind him. "I'm just here to pay. Her dragon will come. Now, do I need to ask if I can see what I'm paying for, first?" Jo, shifts her stance, sliding her hands out of her pockets only to fold her arms across her chest and continue her open, narrow-eyed study of the other man. "I'm a sailor. You ever met a clean one?" The tall man shoots back, allowing his faint smile to crack into something wider as he plucks at his well-stained shirt. It would be a nice expression for him, if it looked like it came to his face more frequently. "You don' 'ave to ask, but you do 'ave to get in the skiff to get there. Can' get the boat any closer to shore. Too many rocks." He looks around them significantly and steps backwards, his footwork sure despite the rocky terrain. "You check it. You pay. We 'aul it off in the little dingys to you over here." Those hazel eyes eventually find their way back to Jo, where he lifts one thick 'brow. "Unless your dragon can pluck it off the deck without sinking us?" He takes a long drag of his smoke, finishing it before flicking the nub to the ground. The back of his heel hits the side of the skiff and he steps into it again, dropping down into his original seat. Those tall legs pull back and he hunches over them, waiting patiently despite the still apparent caution. "Yeah," the Red Man is easy to answer that question. "Right after they shower." He falls silent then when told what needs to be done, and he throws a long look out towards the boat before looking back at Jo. "What do you think, eh?" he's asking her, and this time, Jo breaks her silence. She appears at least lightly annoyed when she turns her dark gaze on the sailor, looking him up and down from head to toe before she says in a surly manner, "I think this is goin' to be another long-ass day, is what." Not the answer the Red Man was expecting, so she then fixes him with a look and adds, "He comes. Yer men better not try any funny business or I can' promise their safety where he's concerned," gets delivered to the sailor as she steps right up to him. Just right then a blue dragon can be seen soaring over the heads, far into the clouds as if right on cue. The tall man laughs, a full throated bark. "You seen one shower?" The oarmen both start to laugh and rib at each other as they get into position. The Red Man might have seen one get clean, but the three of them don't seem to have. And while he's exhibiting his own caution of them both, there's nothing even remotely near to fear. Not now anyway. "Girly, you got nothin' to fear from us. You get 'urt, we don' get paid ever again." That blue sails into the sky overhead and he squints his eyes to watch him. He turns that wide grin onto the dragon's rider. Is there something familiar in it? He quips, "I seen bigger. But lets get on with this. We're itchin' to be outta here too. Captain wants to be gone." Once the pair are into the skiff with them, he gives the order to row back to the boat. A thick rope ladder will be thrown over the side when they get out to the Red Gold, the tall man being the first to exit. The Red Man and Jo would be next and the oarmen stay behind in the water. "'Girly'?" Jo reacts to the name more than the stranger's words, her brows furrowing at him as the Red Man cuts in and says, "No one's getting hurt here." He's being all reassuring-like. The bluerider doesn't look convinced though, and when her dragon is put to question, "Bigger don' mean more intimidat-" - "Jo," the Red Man cuts her off, for he can already see her getting started up. "Don't worry about it. Come on." He lets Jo proceed him into the skiff and then they're off with Jo watching Tacuseth wing to a landing on the boat up ahead of them. Looking surlier than before, she remains silent again and is probably darting daggers with her eyes towards the man with the familiar smile until they arrive on the Red Gold. "Women always say that size don' matter. But between the two of us, we both know the truth, yeah?" The tall man remains flippant in his comments, his smile only growing increasingly engaged the more irritated that she grows with him. When the Red Man interjects with her name, effectively cutting them off for now, the sailor gives her a long look. It's more assessing now than it was before, some of that caution seeming to ease off. Just a touch. But then they're on the deck of the boat and a round, bearded man is approaching. He has open arms for the Red Man, "Aye, there you are. We been waitin' most of the day for you!" There's some slight admonishment, but marks are to be had. And the two of them are on the boat now. "Lets talk business. My men will behave themselves. Your woman can check the wares?" It's a suggestion, mostly. Meanwhile the tall man is heading to the entrance that will bring them into the heart of the boat below, where the cargo would be stored. The other men on the boat are only peripherally interested in the scene. They seem to be busy mending sails, scrubbing the deck and other crap that deckhands and sailors worry about. Cutting a look to the Red Man for his admonition, "Says the man that probably wouldn' know anythin' about that," Jo counter on the first. Well, she couldn't help it. She reins in her temper on the way to the Red Gold, choosing not to meet his studying gaze along the way. When the bearded man arrives, the Red Man steps forward with a board smile and a "Apologies, Arman. You know how things can be on land. Kimren can of course compensate if our little delay has put you off schedule from yours." He's all honeyed words and smooth demeanor. Nodding to the rest, he turns to gesture towards Jo as he answers with, "Aye, we talk. I'll leave Jo to check and make sure all is what's what, eh? You and me, we go talk business and payment." Jo takes the hint. With a look towards Tacuseth, she goes to follow the tall man into the heart of the boat, her booted steps a heavy reminder perhaps from behind. She leaves the two men to their business. The tall man leaves the other two to their business. He doesn't get involved in that end of affairs, at least not in this particular instance. With a thud he lands on the heavy wood floor, his thick boots scuffing the layer of grime on the ground. One long arm extends down to pick up a crowbar, tossing it in Jo's direction casually for her to catch. Meanwhile he pulls forward a couple of the many crates stacked up in the hull. The Tillek label on them is clear and genuine, he lets her check out however many she wants. "You pick which boxes you want to open and peek in." He jerks his chin in the direction of the bar he tossed her earlier. From his inner jacket he pulls forth a slim case and another smoke, that he lights with a match. His hazel track her as she moves, one hand lifting to scratch at his jaw. "Tacuseth ain't that small." He takes a long drag and holds his breath, watching her. Jo catches the crowbar easily with a sweep of one arm, her wary gaze heavy on the sailor's back. She immediately surges forth towards the closest crate to start cracking the lid, just as he speaks the words. She turns a dark eye over her shoulder at him when he's through, then drops it towards that slim case he pulls out. The lid lifts with her working at it until she peek into the crate and count up the items within - until he utters that name. There's a pause, some sort of tension that lingers in the air between them, even though the bluerider doesn't make any sudden moves towards him. It's only after a few moment of this that she suddenly straightens and lets the lid to the crate fall shut as she turns to face fully face him. "I never gave his name," she states, her gaze hard on him now. "I make it a point not to." A hand falling casually to land on the knife hilt at her side, "How 'bout ya tell me who ya are, darlin', so I can do the rest of my job easy without the need of any bloodshed." Is there a tension? The tall man is just hanging back there, smoking and leaning his lanky frame into the side of the ship. He blows a ring towards the ceiling, his gaze remaining on her as she goes through the crates. That statement comes to his ears and he narrows his eyebrows, directing a look to the ceiling above them. "You didn'? Strange. Tacuseth. Very familiar name. Like someone said it to me recently." He scratches at his jaw and then bites down on the nail of his thumb, like he's thinking real hard. But it's clearly a put upon act for her sake. "I think you might lose some marks if you make me bleed down here just 'cause I knew a name." The sailor points out practically, letting the smoke hang in his mouth as he lets a hand slip just as casually into his jacket. As casual as she does onto the knife at her side. "And who would have my dragon's name in their mouth?" Jo counters, frowning as she really studies him now. There's something about him...something she's not putting a finger on and can't place...Even the put upon act has her gaze lingering on his lips, his thumb before she meets his eyes. "His name is not familiar. Who are ya? What's yers, huh?" His next on loosing marks has her snorting and tapping long fingers on that hilt as she answers, "What, with the Red Man? I've shed blood before and got paid just the same. I lose no sleep at night over it." With a toss of her head, she turns from him with cold promise in her dark gaze and returns to inspecting the next crate as she says, "S'pose it doesn' matter. Whoever it is, if they've got it in for me and hired ya to come after me, I'll gut ya all the same, darlin'. I hope that's not the case." It's suggesting she has her fair share of enemies out there, somewhere. "Could be plenty of people. You from a weyr, plenty of folks there." The tall man answers, the drag still hanging from the corner of his mouth. His hand is slipped casually into the jacket, but it should be obvious by now that he's digging around in there. "I'm a sailor. Why do you need to know my name? Apparently you could spill my blood and it wouldn' matter none to you." He pulls a folded over envelope out, one that looks like he's had it for quite some time. "Might matter to my captain though, he's quite fond of me." Transfering the item from hand to the other, he takes a nice long inhale from that smoke again before he lets it all burn away. "Might matter to my brother too. I wonder what you would say to him if you killed or harmed me. Tell him I asked for it? He was annoying me? He knew my dragon's name, had to end it? Too much information? He had a terrible hair cut?" "Then that tells me yer from a Weyr," Jo quips, cracking open another crate carefully. "And that would put in question why yer here." Giving him her eye, "Yer not from the Weyr," she makes that conclusion easily enough. Then she falls silent as she studies the contents within the crate, missing the envelope even though her head turns a fraction towards him at the sound of it. She can hear it, certainly. Affecting a bored tone, "I could," spill blood that is. That's her only agreement to all that. Then he speaks of his brother and she closes the current crate and turns to regard him once more. Eyes narrowing at him, "Alright then. Who's yer brother?" she asks flippantly taking a step towards him. "Since ya seem to think I know him. What, he's a dragonrider, too? What Weyr?" She's close to his personal space now, just a single step away. There's another one of those deep, barks of laughter from him. "Me? From the weyr? Never." She draws that conclusion all on her own then and he smirks, finishing the smoke and flicking it aside carelessly. It's damp down here, they're probably not going to die in a sudden raging inferno. He refolds the envelope in what looks like habit, something he's done a hundred times before. That's why the thing looks so beat up. If her being within his personal space is affecting him, the tall man is cool enough to not allow that to seep through. Instead he extends his hand out to her with the beaten up envelope. "Bronzerider. Your weyr." But then she is close and he taps it against her shoulder. "We're practically family. I mean, I heard so much about you the last time I was there. Can you give this to Z'ian? Try not to make me bleed all over it? And ask him to stop poking his nose into every port looking for me? If I die somewhere he isn't going to find me." It is damp and humid down below, so Jo after awhile does move to unfasten the small latches down her jacket to get in some air to her body. She watches that envelop as he taps it to her shoulder, his words having her cut her gaze to his abruptly? She blinks once, in that moment, that being the only indication that he had caught her off-guard with his revelation, but she recovers by taking up the envelope and turning it over in her examination. "Family, are we?" she drawls, briefly looking to him. "Yer Alec." No question at the end. "Z'ian's told me about ya, too. I wonder what all he's told'ja about me? And what's this?" Bringing the envelope up between them, her chin lifting. "I ain' gonna cut ya. I know who ya are now," and she sends him a flash of a brief smile, perhaps mean to be reassuring. "He's been worried about ya. I oughta drag ya back to the Weyr for his sake, brother o'his, and have ya give this to him yerself." "Wouldn' be much of a brother if I told you. Would I?" Alec questions back, the engaging smile from earlier tugging up the corners of his mouth again. It might be easier now that she knows, to see the similarities. "And sure, family. Haven' the two of you been kicking it around for... awhile now, yeah?" But it's also so much easier to tell the differences too. There isn't the same kind of ease and confidence in his posture, for all he tries to affect it. "A long overdue letter. I try to keep him up to date on where we are. But we had a close call last month and I haven' been able to get to a real dock." The sailor sighs, his grin turning rueful for her words. "Of course he has, he's like that. Tell him to cut the shit, the two of us ain't teenagers. He doesn' need to check up on me all the time. Maybe he'll listen to you." Jo can see it now. "Ya smile like him," she observes, now being able to place his lips. "Similar. Dunno why I didn' see it before." She's busy looking at Alec anew now, knowing now that he was related to Z'ian. She's quick to give him a look on the family bit, quipping, "So what? What's it to anyone if we do? I...enjoy his company." Right. That's all it is. Uh-huh. Passing the letter back, "Give it to him yerself," she repeats now, trying to shove it against his chest. "Ya shouldn' fuckin' make him worry. He's family, right? At least he still talks to ya." As in, she probably won't be much help in that department. Still, she's still studying him with growing interest, the crates momentarily forgotten. "So this is what ya do?" she has to ask now, regarding him intently. "Sail the seas all day and flip over what's likely stolen cargo to the likes of me?" "He smiles like me. I'm older." Alec corrects, that grin spreading even further for it. "You were too busy being distracted by my good looks and charming wits to notice any such coincidences of familiarity." He tilts his head back and laughs at her response. "Don' have to defend yourself to me, girl. I enjoy his company too, he's alright." As for her passing that letter back, he shoots up both hands and refuses to accept it into his hands. His expression turns quickly to one of pleading, sad and put out as he tries to reason with her. "I couldn' help it then and I can' help it now. Captain won' dock the ship anywhere, he's paranoid. What do you expect me to do? Swim to the nearest port?" Big hazel eyes are turned down onto her, just so desperate. "Please, Jo?" The question takes him off guard and he glances around the hole of the ship, darting attention paid to the crates. "Aye. That' what I do all day. This what you do all day? Fly out to see and take stolen cargo to Crom from the likes of me?" "I wasn' expectin' to meet any relative of his out here, either," Jo is quick to return, twirling the crowbar in one hand before putting it to use on another crate. She only pauses to pocket the letter Alec refuses to take back, stuffing it into an inner jacket pocket with a look going his way. She doesn't look the least bit convinced by his pleading eyes, but she does put out after a while, "Fine. I'll do it on the condition that ya eventually stop by and see about him. Or, I can come do him a favor owed by comin' to hunt ya down. The Red Man's a damn good tracker, ya know? He'll find ya, whether yer boss is paranoid to dock or not. Deal?" She tucks the crowbar under one arm and thrusts the other one out, expecting him to shake on it as she approaches him once more. His own answer and return question finally gets one of her arrogant and crooked smiles as she says boldly, "Yeah. That's exactly what I do, among other things. But I do believe ya have me at a disadvantage. Seems like, ya may know more about me than I do about you, darlin'." "I'm a bad seed. Always turning up where they don' expect me to." What can he say? He shrugs those lanky shoulders of his, losing the pleading expression when she stuffs the envelope into her pocket. Alec lifts his dark eyebrows and listens expectantly to her proposal. "Sure. I'll come by to see him eventually." Eventually. When he's close enough to shore to swim there. How good this particular sailor is on keeping his word remains to be seen. But he does shake on it, so maybe he does plan on following through. Or maybe he's just brazen enough to take the bluerider up on her threat to track him down. "Makes sense. It's one thing to talk about a beautiful woman to your brother and another thing entirely to talk to your beautiful woman about your brother. Even if I am staggeringly handsome and possessing of a magnetic personality." Really. His smile turns wolfish as he reaches into his jacket, lighting up the third smoke of the afternoon. "Maybe that's why he doesn't bring me up." "Eventually usually means very soon, in my book," Jo clarifies, the smile there. "Dunno why yer set on givin' Zach headaches. Ya should be lucky he gives a shit." Her poker face is present when they shake on it, then she brandishes the crowbar and returns to work with more casual ease. At least for now, Alec doesn't seem like a threat to the ex-con. To his brazen answer, there's a sniff, though it could easily be directed towards the contents in the current crate she's peering into. "A beautiful woman with a sordid past," she drawls out, looking over her shoulder at him. "What, embarrassed? There ain' nothin' that scares me of a man, that I can assure ya. He's told me yer not around much. That yer involved in things. That's about it. Cargo looks solid." It's so easy how she can switch between talk of business and personal chit-chat. "Kimren will be pleased, and I'll get paid." "Oh, does it? I'll keep it in mind." Alec's smile is broad for her, bright on his worn face. Then there's another laugh and he's narrowing his eyes onto her, interest peeked again. "Zach is it." He clucks his tongue like an old man and rolls his eyes, surprisingly good natured for it. "That's what everyone's always told me. Count myself as lucky." That comes out more distantly before he shrugs his shoulders and sucks down a lung full of smoke. "Hey, I don' know anything about your sordid past. Just was surprised to see you is all. I haven' seen you work this line of the coast before. Makin' a habit of it?" It's a casual, businesslike inquery. "Your man likes to sweep things under the rug sometimes, the ugly things. Even his own brother, for much as as he cares about him. That's all." When she approves of the cargo, he pushes off of the wall. "Good. I can trust you won' stab me in the back on the way back up?" Jo rolls her eyes for Alec's first couple of statements, not answering him. She moves away from the crates when he questions her habits, answering with a wry, "Like I said. I do all manner of things out beyond the Weyr. Whatever I get paid to do. I'm sure," and she sweeps a crowbar from her to indicate the whole of the boat, "that ya would understand. No questions asked." Arm drops when he answers on Z'ian and him sweeping things under the rug. "Perhaps that's the only way he can deal with the ugly things," she suggests drolly. "I had a brother that did the same thing, once. I like knowin' who I'm dealin' with, ugly things or not." Then she moves forward on his last to shove the crowbar against his chest as she gestures for him to proceed her up out of the cargo bay. "If I stab ya, I'd have to explain why to that brother of yers. I'm not even sure if I need to hunt ya down later or not to be present for it." Surely she wouldn't kill him. Nah! "I'll even get ya a drink, all cuz I've got ulterior motives." At least she's honest. He takes the crowbar with one hand as he puts the smoke to his mouth, pinching it between his lips. "Yeah? I don't like to hide from the ugly either." The bar of metal gets tossed carelessly to the side. "And I ain' afraid to hunt it down if it hurts my little brother. As much as I don' go out to see him enough. No questions asked." Alec rakes his now free hand through his length of dirty blonde hair. His smile return, easy enough. "Doing that would be a damper on your sex life with him." Whether he trusts the bluerider or not, he puts his hands the ladder and begins the climb back up to the deck. Over his shoulder, "You offer me any drinks I'm going to think you're trying to get into my bunk." That's stated once he's gotten to the top, much too loudly. From above a couple of laughs can be heard from the men scrubbing the wood nearby. "Ya seem awfully invested in his relationships, brother," Jo notes a sidelong look going his way. "Does he ask about yers? Or do sailors still stick to the brothels and pay to fuck these days?" She seems right at home with being crass and speaking their language as she follows him up the ladder. Even Alec's loudly given last has her snorting to the laughter, remarking in the same vein, "Oh is that all it takes to make ya think that? Ya really have been bunkin' with the men too long on here. Think ya need some down time off this boat, if ya ask me." Which he didn't. She tosses a clicking sound to the men once they both surface, adding, "Ya sailors all seem to be the same, no matter where in the north. Guess yer back out to sea after this?" This goes to Alec. "Wouldn' you like to know?" Alec retorts as he hauls himself up onto the deck. The captain and the Red Man are across the way, still discussing. He gives the bearded man a positive signal with his hands and the other sailors begin to come alive, moving around. "What can I tell you, sweetheart? Keep a man on a ship long enough and anything starts to look like a come on." He leans into the rail, taking a drag off his smoke and watching as the crew members drop down where the cargo is, making the preparations to unload it from the boat. "Aye. We're all cut from the same cloth, it's true." It also doesn't seem to bother him at all. Not really. "Hopefully. Think we're going to go down south and let the heat ease up here. Ain' good for business if we all get caught for piracy and stolen goods, yeah?" "That's why I'm askin'," Jo counters right back, eyeing the Red Man and giving him a little signal with her long fingers. He nods toward her but continues his conversation, leaving her to lean back against the railing and focus on Alec instead. His answer on women makes her huff, stating in a deadpan way, "I feel I should sympathize. Bein' all locked up on a boat and all." Dark eyes follow the crew with the cargo, and when he answers on the last, that draws her gaze back to him with a slight furrowed brow. "Yer a cavalier sorta man, aren'cha?" It's brief and she probably is not giving him much of a chance to answer that since she's saying now, "Ya won' get caught from our end. Been doin' this shit for turns and I still look like I have clean enough hands that the guards don' sniff too close. This sort of job don' have much of a lifespan though, if ya get me." There's a few more skiffs kept on the boat, they're lowered over the sides and into the rocky water. From below the crates are hauled up and then sent over to the men waiting at the ends of the line. As they get filled they make trips to the shore to drop them off. Alec doesn't get involved though, he just smokes and talks to Jo there along the rails. He ignores her comments on curiosity and wanting to sympathize. She asks him a question but doesn't give him a chance to answer, it doesn't stop him from coughing up some laughter. "I didn' think we would. Still. Got too close in Tillek, too close. I might look for a new ship after this." He narrows his eyes at some point in the distance. "Darling. I've been doing this sort of job for sixteen turns now. I stopped worrying about lifespans a long time ago. There isn't much else for me." His gaze eventually slides back to her, "I could say the same for you. You got less time on you than I do." "Yer captain there won' mind?" and Jo jerks her head in the bigger man's direction. "And, I doubt that. The part where there isn' much else for ya. Now ya sound how I used to be." There's a non-chalance to her stance, the way she glances around them, the way she watches the cargo get loaded on the skiffs. She still has an air of someone that has all the time on Pern. She keeps silent, mostly, choosing to watch Alec and the responses he gives to her. Only chooses to break it on his very last, after seeming to be mulling something he says over in her mind. To his last, all he gets as she reaches into her inner pocket and pulls out a flask, "Oh yeah? How ya figure?" "Don' plan on asking him for permission." Alec drawls casually, a half smirk crossing his face as he glances from the bearded man back to the bluerider next to him. "I disagree, been living this life too long now. Wouldn' know how to be an honest man if I tried. Don' know if I even want to be." He shrugs his shoulders, clearly not concerned with the course his existence has taken. The smoke is finished quickly and he flicks the nub of it over the edge and into the water. "Got your dragon. Got your youth still. If you got half a mind on you too, get out while you still got it all. Unless you like it. Who the fuck am I to be giving you any advice?" He is cavalier. "Honest livin's overrated," Jo can state without apology, shrugging one shoulder. "I can' remember the last time I have bothered. When I was still growin' out my boobs, I think. That's the last time. I ain' tryin' to change ya, or, turn ya to an honest path," she notes, fitting Alec with a speculative look. "All I meant is, it's better to move on to the next boat, in case this one gets caught. Stay bettin' on a winnin' runner, eventually he's gonna give out on ya." She flips the lid off her flask and takes a long drink, wiping her mouth with her fist before she raises a brow and lifts it up in wordless question in case he wanted some. His advice for her does have her leaning her elbows back all the more, seeming to acknowledge his words with a nod. "All about loyalty with me," she answers soberly, quietly. "I wouldn' have neither if not for the business I'm in. We are who we are, Alec." "I know." He stretches one lanky arm out to rib her with his bony elbow. "Haven' made it this far not getting caught to get caught now. Not because some old bastard is getting greedy." The old bastard in question turns to look at him and lifts hand up and waves at the bearded man, smiling broadly. And also, he points at Jo and winks with a heaping helping of exaggeration. "No thanks. Actually." And he turns abruptly to stare over the edge of the rail at the men below in the skiffs. "Get the fuck to work down there. What are you doing?" He poses the question in harsh tone to them, eyebrow lifting in irritation. "I best get down there and deal with this lot. Or they'll be sinking all your cargo into the water." Jo sends over a lopsided grin for the ribbing, his answer on getting caught earning him an understanding nod. "Ya and me, both." She eyes that exaggerated wink but doesn't ask only pushing herself to straighten up from the railing as she drains her flask a little more and closes it up. She nods when Alec has to head off, her demeanor back to stony and hard as she says, "Ya do that. See ya around." As for her, she's slipping that flask away and heading towards the Red Man as the two men finishes up their meeting. |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Sat, 04 May 2013 10:25:44 GMT.
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I like Alec. A lot. He's great!
Seems like Z'ian's a lightning rod for the shadier types in his life. My favorite little bits were when Jo got protective/defensive of Tacuseth. X3c
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