1

You're awake and everything hurts like you got mowed over by a whale in a four-wheel-device with spiked wheels. Or, at least, that's what you're preparing yourself for.

It all consciously starts with an internal debate. Do you really want to wake up? You already feel some subdued pain, and you can only imagine it'll get that much worse with mental clarity. Unfortunately, you also have the weird urge to, you know, figure out where you are. Not that you care that much, but it's an instinctual urge. You'd be very happy to keep sleeping and ignore your physical agony.

Still, your dumb ass's eyes slide open, your retinas burning with the harsh light being revealed to you. You breath hitches with fear until you realize that your burning is purely under-the-skin. With that clarified (ish), you continue to blink away the burn and the blurriness in your eyes, your head turning slightly away from the light (Read: as far from the light as you can make it turn). Not enough to relieve your agony-stricken gander bulbs. A groan reaches your sponges, and it takes you a few embarrassing seconds to realize that it came from you.

Seriously, what the fuck?

You feel your arms twitch and shiver, your thighs following the pattern. It's deeply discomforting. Your breath becomes more labored as you try to push yourself up, trying to get some kind of handle over your life. Yeah, up. You're 80% sure that you're laying down.

Unfortunately, you're making no progress on the "up".

You take a deep breath and manage to turn your head right and away from the light that was assaulting you. You were more successful than before, which was a start. (Little victories, right? Even though that's bullshit ideology.)

You glance blearily about your surroundings. You see a bunch of crates and barrels, some of them overflowing with vegetables and fruits, others hiding away their items and leaving nothing for inference. You take another breath - through your nose, with the intent of smelling- and nearly cough at the intense odor of ginger, betraying your makeshift bed. How the fuck did that one get by you?

Filthy mouth-breather.

Suddenly, the whole ground lurches, rolling you back in the direction of the light you had only just managed to escape.

Although you can find it in yourself to panic (you did not make any wimpy-ass noises) your muscles and motor skills are entirely useless. So, you can't even scramble for a hold when you're pushed by the very sacks of ginger you'd been laying on into the wall below the source of the light. Betrayal stings. You (do not) yelp at the pain, your nose throbbing in time with your forehead, and your left wrist thrumming with barely-there discomfort. Looks like you caught yourself, even if it did jack-shit for you. (Technically, that placement was a coincidence, but you'll still give yourself the credit.)

You have to thank the spontaneous lurching, because now you've got fear fueling your arms and letting you shakily push yourself from the wall, and back on top of the ginger. Apparently that's better. You manage it, so you reward yourself a breather, letting your pan give you a mental pat on the back. Then, you draw your brows together and use your new-found arms to push your yourself up. You manage to sit up (HELL FUCKING YES!) and you grin triumphantly at your feet.

And then your head rushes and you fall back, eyes squeezed shut.

Back to square one, it seems. Fucking go figure.

"What do you mean you don't see it?"

"I jutht don't!"

Your muscles all tense up at the muffled voices and frustrated stomps above you, even though it pains you. Who the hell was that? Are they the reason your body was out cold on a rancid sack of ginger? Do... Do they know you're alive? Maybe you should be dead. Maybe you're on this stinking ginger to cover the smell of what they thought would be your rotting corpse. Fuck you for not thinking that you were possibly in a very dangerous situation. You get the familiar urge to bash your head against a wall, and then your mind distracts you from that impulse by giving you a billion (un)likely scenarios you could be in. You bite back a terrified whimper and start piecing what you know together.

Lurching. Obviously you are on some kind of boat. Cargo. This could lead to a few ideas. Maybe you're on a merchant's ship. Or maybe this is the pantry of some politician's ship. Or maybe this is all stolen. Maybe this is some pirate's ship.

You groan. This isn't the time for your paranoia to get the best of you.

You bite your lip and focus on your tingling legs, swinging them down onto the wooden planks of the floor, making soft thudding sounds. You clench your teeth because that was not good for your head, but you also aren't a pansy so you're gonna push through.

You aren't wearing shoes. This concerns you.

However, that could definitely work your advantage. Less sound to alert anyone as you rise on shaking legs and hobble towards a barrel to lean on. From this new height you can see past the barrels and sacks.

You spot a set of wooden stairs leading up from this room to, if you had to guess, the deck.

But between you and the step ladder is a dog. A rather large dog, at that. In fact, you think he might be a wolf.

The wolf is sleeping, and for that you couldn't be more grateful, because surely if he were awake he would hear your pounding heart (and if it isn't a goddamn miracle that the lurching didn't wake him up to see you moving around).

You take a tentative step around the barrel you're leaning on, thankful for the steadier leg. Fear does wonders for your motor skills. Who'd've thunk it?

You creep slowly around the curve, never letting go of the edge and never looking away from the wolf.

You continue this slow pace, creeping slowly through the openings and clear spaces of floor, also making sure to keep some obstacles between you and the beast. Slow and steady avoids waking the horrorterrors, you know. Plus, if he were to wake up, he'd have to work through fifty pounds of carrots before getting to taste your less-than-prime ribs.

But now your progress is almost comically slow, since your terror drives you to go so far as to even hold your breath every time the wolf's ear so much as twitches.

Eventually, you manage to be within reach of the stairs. Now it was just a matter of getting up there, and avoiding detection. From both the wolf and whoever was up there.

You think through the situation, trying to slam together a strategy, but you can't think of any way out that would work in real life. Even if you somehow managed to get on deck without being seen by anyone, and without turning into dogmeat, there was no where you could go. You know the ship isn't docked, and even if the lurching signified a depart, ships are pretty fast. You're not even sure you can swim.

You blink at the thought.

Shouldn't you be? You think it's pretty easy to know if you can swim. You either learned, or you didn't.

But that's just the thing, isn't it? You don't know if you learned or not.

You rack your brain, trying to dig up any memories of being around water, of being on a ship before, of being anywhere at all. You can't think of a single thing besides the stench of ginger and a burning throat.

You choke on your breath, completely unaware of anything besides the fact that you can't remember anything. Your name, your age, your own fucking face; it's gone.

You marvel that you even know it's gone.

A low growl jars you back to reality. Your eyes flick up to meet the wolf's, since the rest of your body is frozen with fear. You feel your eyes widen at the green hue of its irises, and you mutter incoherent prayers under your breath.

You don't remember having religious inclinations, but you don't really remember fucking anything, so whatever.

The wolf continues to snarl and growl, its snout wrinkled and its lips pulled back, baring bright white teeth that would no doubt easily mince through your tough skin.

You slowly (so slowly) bring your hands up in a pacifying gesture, and you guess you're the world's best diamond, because that gesture alone makes the wolf relax its haunches and sit back, face impassive. Your brows rise in surprise at the quick surrender (because holy shit, you thought you were going to die right there), and you decide that the wolf must be domesticated, and extremely disciplined. Even if you wanted to take all the credit, that's the only way to explain its presence on a ship, unleashed and uncaged.

You drop your shaking hands to your side, letting out a long breath of relief.

And then it starts barking.

You shout in surprise, and start shooshing at it aggressively, even though the chances of that working are slimmer than a regular patron of a cheap-ass restaurant with stingy portions. You hear more murmuring above you and steps approaching the hatch at the top of the steps. You pull at your hair, groaning deep in your throat and staring at the wolf with wide eyes. It stops barking and cocks its head at you, its tongue hanging out of its mouth as it pants. You snarl at it and its blatant mockery and look around for somewhere to hide. You panic at the sound of a latch and duck for cover.

You know. Like an idiot.

Well, maybe you can just camouflage in the chaos of crates and barrels. They're fairly tall, and apparently you're great at imitating a ball.

Oh god, you're going to be found and flayed like a piece of meat, you brainless doof.

You hear the hatch swing open and a soft voice drifts down the steps. "Bec?"

The wolf yips.

You hear the sound of boots on wood, and you figure the human is coming down. It sounded like a human.

You hold your breath and consider your options.

Oh, right, you have none.

Their boots clunk across the floor and around the post of the mast. You press your palms to your eyes, watching explosions dance across the back of your eyelids. FUCK. Having a memory would be great right about now, especially if it turned out you knew how to fight or something equally helpful under the circumstances you've been given.

"Hey, where...?"

You stare at your hands helplessly before gasping with inspiration. You love when that shit hits you. You shoot up from your crouching position and hold a hand out to both of the creatures in the space. You hope they can't tell your blood color from this distance, if your eyes have started filling in. No age, remember? No. You don't. "DON'T MOVE!"

The human turns quickly and blinks owlishly at your stance. The wolf, or 'Bec', continues to pant at you.

Wait, are you Bec? Probably not, but you can't really ask anyway. That'd be giving them the upper hand. If they clarify and you do turn out to be Bec, then no one loses, because you obviously know them well enough for them to give you a nickname.

You focus your glare on the bipedal creature, looking them over. They're wearing a pair of brown trousers and a white blouse stained with dirt and what looks like blood. The human seems unarmed, but you don't know what's in their deck. Green eyes, matching the wolf's oddly enough, are wide and confused. They really don't look like a threat.

Hell, they're not even a troll. And apparently, you are. But you don't need your memory to figure that out.

"Um..."

You flex your hand and narrow your gaze. You think you're lying, but you hope you aren't when you say,"Don't. Move. I have psionics and I'm not afraid to use them."

"Okay! Calm down." Their hands raise in surrender. "Let's not be irrational, okay?"

"Don't patronize me, you thin-skinned pin-cushion. Do you have any idea how easy it is to kill your kind?" Alright, you're just bullshitting. But they do look pretty squishy. You curl your fingers slightly and they purse their lips, taking a step back.

To their credit, they don't look particularly scared. A bit irritated, and definitely on guard, but not scared.

"I wasn't trying to be patronizing, relax. I'm suggesting you put your hands down and we talk. Rationally. Like two civil people."

You feel your hands start to shake. The adrenaline was wearing off, thanks to the human not being a bloodthirsty beast. It was the only thing keeping you still. On the plus side, you can safely assume you aren't Bec by now. "Talk. Where am I?"

They tic their jaw. "You're on my ship. We just left a small island in the middle of Cerulean."

You're stuck on the first bit. "Your ship?"

They smile, revealing crooked, dull teeth. "Yeah! I'm the captain of this beauty. Even her schematics are mine."

You furrow your brows, a physical signal that you don't believe them. It sounds highly implausible. This human designed, built and now sails a ship on their own? Granted, you know the human has a crew, but then that's strange occurrence to factor in as well. You wonder what kind of merchant they must be, or if they're apprenticing under some kind of some bigwig adventurer or some shit.

And then there's age, because human lifespans are laughable and this human...

"Are you even old enough to be a captain?"

"I'm old enough to know when I'm being lied to," they retort. "I thought giving you a sense of an upper hand would calm you down, but if you're calm enough to insult the owner of the ship you're on, I guess we're good to drop pretenses. Put your arms down."

You pull your arms back to your sides, defeated. "How do you know I'm lying?"

"Oh, please! I know trolls with psionics. Your pose is too untrained for a troll of your age to plausibly have grown up with them, not to mention cheesier than macaroni made right." They drop their mask of irritation and gift you a complacent smile, because that totally isn't patronizing. They hold out a hand, beckoning you to come closer and shake it. "Jade. My last name's mine and mine alone, but you're free to use that."

You make your way around the barricade of crates and take the hand, letting them lead a gentle shake. You're moving like a kicked puppy, and you feel shitty for it, but what else are you supposed to do? They have you beat. "Jade. I, uh..."

Jade raises a brow and tilts their head. "And you are?"

You don't know. You can't let them know that you don't know, because you don't know them or what they'll do with that. Do they already know you don't know? You don't want to find out, honestly.

Think faster.

"Jadeth. Is my name."

You ass-scratching brain tumor.

They laugh and shake their head, looking at you with a face full of pity. Gross. "You're cute. That's alright, you don't need to give me your real one just yet. I understand that this is a really odd situation you're in, but trust me: I'm a friend, not a foe."

You nod in acknowledgment of their words, not necessarily because you believe them.

You want to ask them how you ended up on the ship, what they were planning to do with you, where the ship was bound for, but your words were lodged in your throat without proper phrasing. You didn't want to come off as some kind of idiot (again), clarifying every other word and tripping over your intentions.

Jadeth. Ugh. You disgust yourself.

"How are you feeling?" Jade asks, looking you over. Their bright green gaze stops briefly at your trembling legs (would you look at that?) before meeting yours again.

Your move. They've shown concern and wit, and left you with two options. Play off the pain in your head (thank you, inertia) and the weakness in your limbs, making you seem tougher than you are and painting you as an absolute liar. Or, share what ails you with them and trust them to. Well. Not use your vulnerability against you.

You definitely aren't good with trusting, but you also know you're a horrible liar.

"Like shit," you sigh. Clean, concise. Nice job, fuckface.

Jade laughs sympathetically, which you didn't even know was a thing people did, and starts to walk back towards the steps. "I'm not surprised, Jadeth." You groan. "Heh, you had a rough few days with us. Some of our crew didn't think you'd make it. I'm actually shocked that you're moving around so easily."

You follow them slowly, unsure if they plan on letting you come up with them. "Days?"

Jade hums two notes of a positive tone, scratching Bec's head as they walk past the wolf to the steps. "We're reaching the end of your third."

You walk around the wolf, keeping your hands away from him as his snout follows you. You get past him and stand at the base of the stairs and while Jade's four steps up twelve. "So?"

They keep climbing, turning to gesture at your immobility. "Follow me. We'll walk and talk, we have things to do!"

You hold your sigh of relief. Jade wasn't treating you like a captive, but there was a dog here presumably to keep guard. Your caution is not misplaced.

You start to climb the steps, but overestimate your ability for the first time since you've woken up. Your left knee wobbles with the weight of your body, and you nearly tip over. Jade hops down a few steps and grabs your shoulder, barely catching you before you do.

"Thanks," you mutter, stumbling and straightening up, heart still pounding. The wolf barks a laugh because it's an asshole.

"No problem," Jade dismisses. They hold out an arm and smile. "I've been meaning to install rails, but you can hold my arm."

You take their arm, muttering another thanks under your breath. You nearly balk at the firm flesh under the human's sleeve. Damn.

As you make your way up together, Jade asks you,"How much do you remember?"

Your fingers tighten around their arm slightly. "Not much."

"Nothing from your time on board? You woke up a few times, but I guess you were pretty out of it."

"No. I don't even remember how I got here," you grouse.

"Well, you wouldn't. You were unconscious when we got you onboard." Jade tugs you up onto the floor of the not-deck. You move out of the way so Jade can close the hatch, and you can look around. You're not on the deck, as you'd thought you would be, but in the sleeping quarters. Sixteen beds, eight along each side and bunked, with two chests nailed on the floor next to each of the lower beds. You guess Jade mustn't have any trolls in their crew, lest they sleep without sopor, somehow. That makes the whole 'I built this ship and also I'm the captain' story somehow more plausible. No troll would trust a human's engineering enough to work on one of their ships, besides seadwellers, but they're privileged asswipes who wouldn't stand for a human captain.

All this social policital bullshit and you still can't remember what color your own blood is.

"Okay, so since we're sharing and telling, would you rather I tell you how we found you, or would you like to tell me about what happened before all this?" Jade asks, rolling a carpet over the hatch to hide it. Sketchy.

Uh-oh. Well, let's get some answers before your untimely demise comes. "How did you find me? Chance or..."

"Chance, naturally. We weren't looking for you. We aren't hunters," Jade snorts. She pulls a hand to her chest and raises a brow at you. "Do I look like someone who hunts people down for a living? I think 'no'!"

Your hackles rise. "Well, I don't know who the hell you are. It doesn't hurt to make sure, right? Sorry for being cautious, my bad."

"Oh, come on! I was teasing. We're in the same boat, Jadeth," Jade says. You make a face at the human's sense of humor. Their eyes widen and they laugh shortly, kind of surprised. That turn of events makes you incredibly nervous. "Oh my god, I really didn't mean to do that."

You stare at Jade for a second before relaxing. "Right."

"I didn't!" Jade giggles before sobering up and crossing their arms, fixing you with an inquisitive stare. "Why do you ask that specifically, though? Do you think anyone is after you?"

You hadn't considered that. Would anyone be looking for you? Hunters? Friends? A quadrant-mate? Anyone?

Fuck honesty, but also it's your only choice. "I don't know. That's why I asked. Duh."

Jade gives you a look for your attitude, then continues to walk past you to another set of stairs. They stand at the base and turn around to talk to you. "My entire crew is upstairs. More than half of them have yet to form an opinion about you, but that doesn't mean they don't want answers. Are you ready to prove we can trust you to walk the ship freely?"

You suck in a shaky breath and shrug, shaking your head. "I don't have anything to hide."

Really, you don't have anything. You have nothing. You don't remember anything.

Seriously.

Jade nods and their shoulders relax. A grin grows across their face. "Great! Then just come with me."

Again, you use Jade's arm to support yourself as you make your way up the steps. With time, your embarrassment fades. Plus, you're kind of really awed by Jade's fucking muscles. Fucking, because you're frustrated that the human's stronger than you and making your stomach turn not necessarily unpleasantly. Jade knocks the hatch open and pulls you up, making you stumble over your feet and center yourself again.

You straighten yourself up and look at the semi-circle around the hatch. There are trolls in this crew, and that surprises you.

"Get him something to sit on," Jade orders sternly from behind you. Not quite the voice you remember.

A troll around your height with a blue do rag - triangular horns poking through holes in the fabric tell you that this one's a poser (sailor poser psh)- pushes a tall stool across the deck, smiling at you and leaving the stool next to you to walk back to the rest of the group. Mob mentality. Kind of. You don't bother trying to climb it, you just rest an elbow on the seat and lean heavily on it to relieve your legs.

"Thank you, Nepeta," you turn to Jade and find yourself shrinking back from them. They seem… bigger. More formidable.

You just chose this person to be the judge of your fate in regards to this ship. Maybe even your life.

And you had no idea they could make you piss your pants with a glare.

You're not someone who has good ideas. That just isn't you.

A/N: whoops i deleted the notes

i edited and had a beautiful wonderful amazing beta Latest From The Asylum look it all over so there's that (thank you so so much you're the best)

feel free to criticize and stuff that's cool