The Pistachio Pirates

[Vega]

82nd Zi'da, 717

"Have I ever mentioned," Vega said with a grin as she sat at the table in the galley of the Wanderlust, "that I am not one of those people what 'ates to say 'I told you so'? Cos I'm really not. I told you so, an' now you've lost." She had, in fact, told him that he wouldn't be able to throw three pistachio nuts up into the air and catch them in his open mouth and he'd managed two, but the third one had bounced off his nose and skittered onto the floor, earning a guffaw from her. "Which means, Arlo Creede, I choose 'ow we decide this, yes?" That had been what they'd agreed, perhaps foolishly. But all in all, it had worked out. "I'd like you too... hmmmm." Vega grinned and put her chin in her hands, looking at him with an appraising gaze, although the humour on her face was evident both in her expression and the vivid green colour of her eyes, flecked through with bright blue.

"Oh, this is tricky," she was making it last longer on purpose of course, examining him and trying to seem serious, but failing entirely. "I think that... no. Not that. Hmmm." With a sudden grin, it hit Vega what she'd do. Of course, she'd always known and probably, in fairness, so had he "I challenge you, Arlo Creede, to a sword duel. First to three strikes wins. That's the only way we're gonna work out who's the captain of this damn ship, when I've whupped yer butt an' we both know that I'm the boss." That had been where it started, of course, and it was all her father's fault. He'd asked which one of them was going to be Captain. Just as a parting shot, casually asked, when he'd called by earlier. That was three breaks ago and they'd had a lively debate since he left. Neither one of them actually cared, Vega knew. Or maybe both of them did, she wasn't sure, but she knew that they both cared about winning. They'd talked, they'd argued, they'd disagreed about what game of skill they should play in order to prove their worth (he'd wanted to have an obstacle course - she'd wanted an arm wrestle and the other had refused point blank). Then they'd tried to work the whole situation out in the bedroom, but they hadn't made it that far and whilst the two breaks spent in that pursuit had undoubtedly put them both in a good mood, it still hadn't solved the 'who gets to be captain'

In the end, they'd agree that they'd throw nuts in order to sort it out and now, of course, it was her turn. "So, to be clear. If I get all three, I'm captain. If I get jus' one, you are. If I get two, you get to choose details about the duel, an' whoever wins is Captain of the Good Ship Wanderlust, yeah?" Once he'd acknowledged that yes, that was what they'd agreed, Vega picked three pistachio nuts. She took her time choosing the ones which looked the most aerodynamic and likely to make her win. A good, round, even shape and size was important. "Do NOT rush me, I'm doin' it!" Just because he hadn't thought to consider the different shapes and sizes of a nut, that was not her fault, she informed him. Once she had her pistachio nuts lined up, she looked at him. "I need to prepare myself. 'ang on." She rolled her shoulders, cracked her knuckles and made an odd sort of movement with her head, almost like she was pecking suddenly forward.

"Right. I can do this. I can. Yep. Ok. 'ere we go." The first one, no problem. She made sure to chew the pistachio, drank some water and then moved on to the second one. The strange shoulder-knuckles-head thing happened all over again and then the second pistachio flew up into the air and she caught it, neatly, in her mouth. Grinning at Arlo, she waggled her eyebrows. "You gettin' ready to eat that 'umble pie, Creede?" Vega had no shame. None. Once she'd undergone full preparations once again, she threw the third pistachio.

It bounced, once, off her chin and then joined its companion on the floor. His pistachio and hers, laying side by side.

"That's not fair!" Vega turned to him, the grin on his face undeniable. She couldn't think of why it wasn't fair, though, so she simply huffed. "Fine, so we're 'avin' a duel. That duel determines who is captain of the ship. I'll pop out an' get us some wooden swords so I don't kill you when I win. What's the details of it, then?"

Off Topic

2 x practice swords (not in price list, so I put them at 5gn each, since they're just wooden swords. So, 10gn deducted

[Arlo Creede]

In spite of insisting that it ought to be him, Arlo didn't even want to be captain of the Wanderlust. Everyone knew that the navigator was by far the most important individual on any given crew. The captain was just a figurehead with a silly hat that stood raised up on deck trying to look and sound important. He'd be lost without the navigator.

He'd have told Vega all of that and more, except that once her father had thrown a gauntlet in between the two of them...and Arlo was convinced that the man had just been trying to start something, That's what had done it. It was no longer a matter of logic, individual skill sets or suitability the respective roles. In fact Arlo would have teased Vega and said that since she was by far the bossier one of them both, it only made sense that she should be the captain. Instead, thanks to her father, well, each of them liked winning too much, and neither liked losing at all.

It was only that he'd gotten a little too confident when he'd suggested they should settle the matter with pistachio nuts. It was the second of three that had been his downfall. He'd nearly choked himself silly on it. "A sword duel?" he'd said, objecting on principle when she chose the way in which they'd settle it. They both knew that his weapon of choice would have been the bow, and he'd have bet good nels that she'd choose the sword instead. It would have been a sure bet, had he thought to make one. "Fine," he agreed. After all, until she gave the pistachios a try, he might still win by default. And if she tied him? The least he could do was to make the swordplay more challenging, and maybe round out the odds.

Don't rush her? "Well you're taking your own sweet time about it aren't you?" he said, hoping to get her riled enough to trip her up before she tossed the next nut in the air. In order to push that line of reasoning farther, he couldn't help pointing out, with a grin, that the way she moved her head brought to mind the chickens back in his mother's garden, plucking up grubs. Whether it was his efforts that did it or just plain bad luck, Arlo snorted with laughter when the last one bounced off her chin and on to the floor. "You'd best be ready to eat that humble pie yourself," he told her. After she'd lost the duel, he meant.

And he wasn't telling her either, yet, what the details would be. Smiling and giving a noncommittal shrug, he decided he'd let her wonder all the while he was gone, getting what he thought he'd need. Being evasive was easy in that case, since he didn't know just yet what he had in mind. And once they'd both left the ship, chances were he was gone longer than Vega was. But after a break he returned with several large sacks in his hand, and he dropped them on the bed in the cabin they shared. Inside them, she'd find pirate hats and bandannas, wide belts with large shiny buckles, frilly shirts with puffy ruffled sleeves and eye patches. "What are you waiting for?" he asked her, grabbing a shirt for himself. "Suit up."

Off Topic

2 x hats = 2gn
2 x bandannas = 2gn 4sn
2 x belts with buckles = 4gn
2 x men's shirts = 2gn 4sn
2 x eye-patches = 2sn
Total: 11gn

[Vega]

She looked like a chicken? Vega's response to that had been simple. "You'd best 'ope I'm not since you're a blatant grub an' I might peck you till yer dead. Shurrup, you're bein' an obvious cheat." It was him she was quick to point out, and it was his fault that she'd missed that third one. She hadn't cheated so outrageously, hadn't tried to distract him, get to him. "But that's a'right," Vega added, cheerily, "I'll get my revenge, Creede, an' then you'll be eatin' crow. Crow an' 'umble pie." It was in that moment that the idea hit her, but Vega said nothing, except to add, "good follower of Cassion, though, in fairness. I bet you you'll make the 'umble pie taste good." She couldn't help it though, "you'll 'ave to. When yer demoted to ship's cook cos you were so unkind to the Captain. Me."

Rather than tell her about the details he was going to bring into play, though, he shrugged and refused to say anything. "We both know it's cos you 'aven't worked it out. Not thinkin' ahead? Bad trait in a ship's captain you know." But then, they'd wandered off the Wanderlust together, then gone their separate ways. She'd moved as quickly as she could, because she needed to get back aboard before him. That shouldn't be an issue, she thought, judging that he really evidently didn't know what he was going to do. Still, she did and she needed every moment to do it. But that was fine, she was there and back quickly and Vega put the two wooden practice swords down on the table and then moved into their cabin; everything she needed was right there.

She had literally just finished doing what she needed to when she heard him come aboard and so she grabbed a hairbrush and sat on the bed. Looking up in surprise as he walked in, carting a pair of sacks, Vega raised an eyebrow and looked at what he'd brought. "What's this, Arlo?" Lifting up one of the hats, then an eyepatch, Vega suddenly understood what he was doing and she turned tumultuous blue and green eyes to him. "Pirates? Are you 'avin' a giraffe?" She shook her head. "That is a low blow on a number of levels, Arlo Creede an, frankly? It's beneath you." It wasn't at all and not only was it perfect that he'd chosen that when one considered the conversations they'd had over their time together, it was beyond perfect in light of what she was planning. She didn't tell him that though. Oh, no. Not at all.

"You didn't buy trousers?" Vega looked at him, not managing the accusing glare that she was trying for. "You know I only wear dresses, Arlo. 'ave you ever seen me in trousers? Oh, other than when you taught me acrobatics, actually. A'right. Crisis averted." First, she sat where she was and unashamedly watched him getting dressed, her eyes darkening as she did. She nearly lost her resolve, but this, Vega knew, this was a matter of principle. Once he was dressed, she moved over to her drawers and rummaged. Finally, she found the loose black trousers and picked them up, then grabbed the other shirt. Then, she turned and spoke in a very determined, amused, challenging tone. "Until this is decided," she said, teasing and definitely up to something, "there will be no bare flesh glimpsed by you, Arlo Creede. I'll meet you on decks." Either he exited the cabin, or she did, but she got dressed alone. Of course, even by the shape of her under that dress, he might get an idea of what she was doing.

Still, he wanted pirate, and pirate was what he got.

When she came up on deck, Vega was wearing her black trousers tucked in to her thigh-high black boots. The shirt, which was far too big for her, she'd belted tightly with the wide belt. Hat atop her head, she'd tied the bandana so that it fell down the side of her hair and actually helped keep her hair in place with that tricorn hat. There was no doubt, should he notice such things, even ignoring the unusual clothes she was, as she herself put it, pulled in and pushed up in all the right places. "A'right, Arlo Creede. Is this the only detail? We're dressed like a right pair of plonkers?" Her eyes swirled indigo and green as she saw him there. Damn him, but he was just about as distracting as it was possible to be. "Or, in fairness, maybe that's jus' me. You look fine. Very fine." Concentrate Eva, she thought to herself and grinned at him.

"Come on then. You got more games to play or you ready for yer ass whuppin' now?"

[Arlo Creede]

"If that ends up being the case." Her as captain that was, and if she was demote him to cook. "Good luck finding your way around," Arlo shot back. He was mostly teasing, but also looking to get under her skin in the same ways she was, his. They were fairly good at that, the two of them, along with them being as competitive as they were. All in good fun most of the time, with the exception of those times it turned into a genuine row. It remained the case that Arlo didn't really want the role of captain. But he wasn't above competing for it anyway.

If he didn't know exactly what she was up to while he was gone, neither would it come as any surprise. Except that she ought to know already that emphasizing what assets she already had, wasn't really necessary. Distracting maybe, but her assets were good ones, and would have captured his attention had she been dressed in a burlap sack three times too large. "Why not pirates?" he argued when he got back with his purchases. "It's a ship. Makes perfect sense."

It didn't take him any time himself to get into costume, though he frowned, disappointed when she tossed him out of their shared cabin. "It's not as if I haven't seen all of you before," he argued, and it only increased his suspicion that Vega was up to something. But he agreed anyway and went up on deck, taking a little time to stretch and swing his sword so he could accustom himself to the feel and weight of the weapon made of wood. And before she arrived, he undid the shirt to the band of his breeches, leaving all the flesh in between exposed. Two could play at distraction, Arlo figured. But naturally she'd done him one better, considering that from his perspective, she was the better equipped one. And her assets were, in that costume, on full display. Or at least enough.

"That's cheating," he told her, looking a couple trills longer before grinning and shrugging. If they were pirates like the costumes suggested, then was fair play really a thing? Grinning, he raised the tip of his sword and adopted the stance, leaving it to her to make the first move. "You're awful confident for someone who's gonna be handed their backside on the tip of a wooden sword. Wench." he teased.

[Vega]

Good luck finding her way around? "I won't need or want to find my way anywhere. I can jus' grow fat from yer cookin' an' order you about." Why were they doing this? If he wanted to be captain, she really wasn't bothered. Yet now? Now it was game on and they were not either one of them bothered about being Captain, she was sure. No, this was about winning and, importantly, not losing. He was trying to get under her skin, she knew and he was succeeding ~ just not in the way that he was aiming for.

She snorted, though, when he said it wasn't like he hadn't seen all of her before. "Good for you. If I lose, I'll be in such a bad mood, who knows 'ow long it'll be before you see any of me again?" She smiled, almost sweetly, and pushed him out of the door. Finishing up, she made her way up on to the deck and she pursed her lips at him, disapproval and appreciation on her face in about equal measure. "I'm cheatin'?" she asked, incredulously. "Yer just a study in hypocrisy you are, you know. But since it's you, I forgive you," she said, her eyes glinting with a mischief of her own.

Vega's gaze did not move from him, but when he called her wench, she looked at him with an expression which mingled a lot of emotions, as did the swirling colour of her eyes. But he was here, dressed like that and calling her names and thinking that he could use his charms on her? Vega swung her sword carefully in her hand, feeling the weight of it and keeping her distance from him. Wench, indeed. "Well, maybe yer right, an' you'll be winnin'. Or maybe I will. But I suppose, we should make it even," Her eyes never left his, her sword remaining ready and her stance relaxed. "I don't want you to say I cheated when I win, after all." And cheating, she said, meant that things weren't fair, weren't even.

Well, she assured him, she was just the biqaj to make sure that everything was fair and equal. As she spoke, she lifted her spare hand and slowly, keeping her stance and her sword at the ready position, she used that one hand to undo her own shirt. "I know it's not quite the same," her smile was crooked, wicked and her eyes swirling shades of indigo. "Since you're wearin' nothin' under that shirt an' I've got this satin an' lace basque," indeed, it seemed, she did. He'd seen it before, of course, when they'd eaten out. "An' normally," one side of her mouth lifted in amusement. Wench? She'd show him wench. "I'd just untie it right 'ere, an' it'd be gone too. Then we'd be even. But the thing is," never taking her eyes off him, nor dropping her guard Vega spoke in a voice just a little above a whisper. "As you might remember, it's connected to these suspenders an' they're attached to those silk stockin's, So, it's the very best a poor little wench like me can do." She would outmaneuver him, she was determined.

Once, Vega had been awkward, her limbs too long and her movements ungainly. Even then, though, there was a grace to her when she had a sword in her hand. Now? Now, she felt much more like she fit together, like she moved where she wanted to move to. She had no conception of herself as beautiful, yet he thought she was and that was good enough for her. Her silver blood pumped a little harder in her veins and she lifted her sword, then beckoned him forward with her spare hand. "Your move, Arlo Creede." She wouldn't be making the first move, he could stand and watch all night long, she was determined.

Because as soon as he moved, she would be flicking out her sword, a swift movement of her wrist, striking at his lower arm. She wasn't planning on fighting to get the best blows, the ones that would kill. She was fighting to be the first to get three strikes because the first to do that, won. And Vega was playing to win.

[Arlo Creede]

Arlo knew she was bluffing. About her mood and any connection between that and seeing her naked again. Vega knew it too. Nothing ever seemed to get in the way of those sorts of activities. They, both of them, were one as guilty as the other in that regard. And she'd never hear him complain about it either. So he'd only grinned and waggled an eyebrow at her when he left her alone in the cabin. "If yer going to engage in trash talk, you'll have to do better than that," Arlo had said as a parting shot.

But the threat had been all the encouragement he'd needed, to go mostly bare chested by the time Vega arrived on deck. "Hypocrisy? It's nothing of the sort. All's fair," he argued while turning the sword's grip round in his hand to get a better feel for it. Love and war, and fairness, that was. Of course Arlo's already dark eyes grew darker still when she undid the buttons of her own shirt. He'd already known what she was wearing under it, wearing being a completely relative term in this case. But the way that thing tucked and pushed things up to nearly overflowing, well, there'd never be a time when he saw it once too often. Or a time when his imagination didn't run wild. However. "It's not the same and you know it," he said, snorting and grinning at her even while remaining on guard. His bare chest versus hers, that was.

So his move? Against any number of opponents, provocation worked. He could easily goad them into making the first move, sometimes recklessly, by taunting, engaging in apparently evasive maneuvers that were in reality anything but. Except that Vega was accustomed to seeing him do it. She knew him better. And in truth the tactic most usually worked on those that were impulsive, over confident, feeble of mind and overall, easily provoked. But seeing it coming, knowing him as well as she did, it simply wouldn't work. And she proved it by insisting that he make the first move.

Three strikes, that was all it would take. If the choice had been the bow, it might have been over by now, so Arlo believed. But naturally she'd chosen the sword. In his case however, his familiarity with movement and acrobatic maneuvers were more often a boon than not. Arlo could move quickly and did. A quick step, just short of a lunge forward once he'd made her wait and wonder a long few trills, his aim to strike at the tip of her sword with the tip of his, and knock it up and away. It would likely result in a temporary draw of sorts, but his primary aim was to knock away her sword and then bring his own back down and around in order to tap her on the hip.

[Vega]

Vega looked at him and smiled sweetly when he said it wasn't the same and she knew it. "What would be, Arlo?" It was alright for him to be wandering around looking all... like that but she couldn't reciprocate, she asked? That didn't seem fair to her. Not at all and she told him so in no uncertain terms. "What would you rather I did? I mean, you chose these clothes, didn't you?" Her lips lifted in a crooked smile. She was getting to him, she knew it. In what she saw of his reaction, what she knew of him. Of course, that was juxtaposed with the simple truth of how much he was getting to her, too. In just the same way. "As I was gettin' dressed," she said, watching him, "I was remembrin' the first time we talked about pirates an' wonderin' 'ow I ever managed to sleep so close to you, yet in a separate tent." It was meant to work as a distraction tactic for him but now that she said it, it did get her to wondering.

There was an expression on Arlo's face, just fleetingly, and Vega knew that he'd hoped she made the first move and more than that, making the first move would be a mistake. He'd hoped she would, was pleased and proud and irked that she hadn't and wasn't prepared to linger too long, because this was driving both of them to distraction. Three strikes, she reminded herself. Three strikes was all it would take and then he'd be eating humble pie, or she would. Which one of them would do that? Well, it was getting less and less important to her as the trills ticked by.

He lingered a few trill, standing and watching and then he moved. As he did, she moved to meet his blow. The tip of his sword, though, knocked hers out of the way just a hair's breadth from his arm. Damnit. His move continued, though, and she easily brought her own sword back around to just slide down the blade of his as she moved away, stepping to the side in a fluid dance-like move. So, it led to neither of them landing a blow and Vega realised as she moved and he did, that they were very well matched. She was better with a sword than him, she thought. But he was much better at the whole acrobatics than her. So, they balanced each other out.

Which might mean, she realised with an inward sigh, that they were doing this for a while. Stepping back, keeping her weight well distributed and her sword ready, Vega watched him for a moment, not moving forward. "I don't wanna fight." deep indigo eyes regarded him. "I don't wanna lose, either, mind. But I don't really care about bein' captain. I feel like Papa set us up an' I don't want him to win." If he attacked, she would defend, there was no doubting it, but otherwise, she didn't. "So, I suggest an alliance. You an' I. But there are conditions an' rules, an' if you can't keep them, then we won't." Her focus was on him and she was close to breaking, she knew, but this was her way of maintaining her dignity, not losing and not wasting any more time here.

"One, we declare Bruce captain of the ship. Or Huw. Or Peg! Lets declare Peg the cap'n. That'll naff Papa right off, not 'aving wound us up in that way." She kept her eyes on him, not trusting him not to try and take advantage. If he did, she'd become a whirling dervish, she determined. "Two. Neither of us change this story, nobody says the other one gave in, or any nonsense like that." No changing the story, she was clear. That was a bad thing to do and would constitute a major breach of trust between them. "I'm more than 'appy to fight, go a few rounds up above deck, before we think about doin' the same below." They'd both already thought it, she knew, but he understood what she meant. "An' I'm competitive, an' I don't wanna lose, but I don't want you to, either." How strange, Vega thought, that was completely true. "So, 'ow about we scrap a bit up here cos it's fun, an' Peg or Bruce get to be cap'n?" Her grin was lopsided and her eyes told the simple truth of how much she meant it. "Cos I, for one, don't really want to be cap'n, an' winnin' is less an' less important by the trill." Her gaze flicked to his half-undressed form and she gave a wicked grin. "I think I already won, really."

[Arlo Creede]

Arlo wasn't fooled for a trill by that innocent expression, and Vega knew it. She knew him too well, and the same could be said in reverse. There was a world of difference, he maintained, between his uncovered chest and her mostly bared one. What it came down to however and he had to admit it, thought not aloud to her, that between bare and nearly bare, the advantage in that case was still hers. On the topic of separate tents however, back then, Vega made a good point but he wasn't going to further add to her arsenal by telling her that he'd had more sleepless nights than not.

As for the sparring match, Vega hadn't given him any options but to make the first move. But what he lacked in sword skills he mostly made up for in maneuverability and being able to improvise in that way. She might still get the better of him eventually, weapon to weapon. Probably would, if he was honest. But in the meantime? Arlo could envision this give and take business of near misses going on for some time to come. He grinned when she confessed that she didn't want to battle over the role. "Neither do I," he admitted while dropping the point of his practice sword. Vega didn't quite trust him not to take the advantage of her being off guard, and if he'd still had a mind to carry on, then she probably shouldn't. Still, he wasn't yielding so much as agreeing to a draw. Like her, he didn't like losing.

And he didn't want to be captain either, he admitted. Never had. "But it was your father that started it," he teased, though it was the truth of the matter. When she offered a solution, and stated the terms, he was quick to agree. "Peg," he said. His horse should be captain, it made perfect sense. And the terms were such as he could easily abide by. Agreed then, except on one point. "I disagree. It's me that's won." The view after all, of Vega was worth all of it, and with a waggle of a brow and a grin, he flicked up the point of his practice sword and gave her a tap on the bottom before dancing away in hopes of avoiding a comeuppance.

[Muse]

Your review is ready!

Seriously, just when I think I've read something amusing and touching from Vega and Arlo, I read another thread. And laugh. And wince. And giggle. And hide my face. And wonder where Vega ever saw a giraffe. And then ... oh ... the fighting ... in costume. I cannot. You two really are lovely.

Vega

Points

XP:
15 | These points cannot be used for magic.

Fame:
N/A

Loot

1 x pirate outfit and 1 x practice sword gained

Injuries + Overstepping

N/A

Knowledge

Skill Knowledge:
Blades: Longsword: Using practice weapons for safety
Blades: Longsword: Testing the weight of a weapon before use
Blades: Longsword: Ready stance for duelling
Blades: Longsword: Moving the blade from your wrist
Cosmetology: What you wear under an outfit makes a different to how it looks
Dance: Utilise a dance move to step away in combat
Negotiation: An appropriate truce
Tactics: Consider the necessary outcome

Other Knowledge:
N/A

Arlo

Points

XP:
15 | These points cannot be used for magic.

Fame:
N/A

Loot

1 x pirate outfit and 1 x practice sword gained

Injuries + Overstepping

N/A

Knowledge

Skill Knowledge:
Acrobatics: Use acrobatic moves with the sword
Acrobatics: Lunging forward
Blades: Longsword: Using practice weapons for safety
Blades: Longsword: Testing the weight of a weapon before use
Blades: Longsword: Ready stance for duelling
Blade: Longsword: Hit another sword away tip-to-tip
Blades: Longsword: Aim for the hip.
Tactics: Get your opponent to strike first

Other Knowledge:
N/A

If you've got a question or concern or if I've missed anything, don't hesitate to PM me!

Now that your review is complete,
don’t forget go back to your review post here and drop this image in!

Code: Select all

[center][img]/viewtopic.php?p=71281#p71281[/img][/center]