Gentle splashes of settling waves provided a calming background noise, the waters lapping lightly against the Morrigans sides. The sun eased into the horizon, setting the sky into a bright blaze of orange. It was a stunning sight to watch, but not for the captain that paced aboard the deck deep in thought towards the plans ahead. The thought of finally coming upfront with one of his dearest friends was a lot to bare, a heartache even. Adéwalé was one matter, he was a very respectable member but Hope...she was another matter entirely. In some part of the captains mind, it wanted to question what the female assassin was doing, why was she continuing with this folly pursuit when the consequences were so clear? Clear to him at least. Shay sighed as he skimmed over the map out of the heist him and Weeks were to pull, loyalty does funny things to people was his conclusion.
The thuds of boots pulled Shay out of his thoughts just as they were ready to spiral into darker realms of doubt. Continuing to study the map for the most effective tactics Shay spoke up without looking up to see the intruder, "What be it now Gist? I do not have enough coin to shell out for your pretty canons if that's what you want."
"Well that is a shame. Too bad I am not here for such requests, but it does bring up an issue I have been meaning to discuss with you about that tongue of yours"
If there was a way to choke on air, Shay was doing exactly that as his eyes widened in surprise. His head shooting up from its concentrated stare on the map in his hands, Shay sputtered, "Grandmaster Kenway, my- well my apologies, sir. I was not expecting your company-"
Haytham raised a hand in dismissal, a single eyebrow raised as he spoke after Shay silenced, "Your lacking etiquette, Shay, will cause you a great deal in the future if you do not tame such an ill habit. How are you to raise in any rank if all you do is bark like a shabby seadog..." a small pause as his eyes locked onto the ex-assassin, "Which I know you are not with the potential you carry." It was true, the colonel's words held to great truth how incredible the man before him was. Clever, Ruthless, and Loyal were only a few words on the list Haytham could say to describe him. He was not the type of man who would praise anyone, especially someone who, quite literally, washed himself up into the arms of the Templar order. Praise came from dedication and fruitless means of proven worth and in the fast moving months the ex-assassin had already displayed such.
His only fall back however was his lacking manners and untamed attitude. Which brought the Grandmaster's attention back as Shay scoffed and with a shrug of his shoulders and said defensively, "I do so have manners, they be given to the ones who rightfully earn it!" His brows knit together as he rolled up the map so he could cross his arms across his chest. It was rather childish from Haytham's point of view, but rather adorable how quick to defend himself Shay was. He shouldn't be fond of a trait that he knew developed from negativity shot in the hunters direction like a puckle gun.
With an eye roll to the floor as a smirk ghosted the usual stoic expression that he usually held, Haytham berated, "Well for only a moments meeting I was promoted to 'Sir' by none other than you. Earning involves time and interest. Surely not a few exchanged words."
Shay was quick to foil the accusation Haytham was skillfully swift to convey as he quipped, "Well- I mean- that's different! You're a Grandmaster. A man already proven to be respected rightfully." His eyes cast down for a moments glance in subconscious submission to the poise which the man in front of him held. For as subtle as it was, it spoke loud to the Grandmaster. Many of his members and inferiors very much did the same...or overdid the means of submission if you were Charles Lee. If he asked the man, he would clean and kiss his own boot with no question or hesitation. It, however, amused him when Shay displayed it; especially if it was obvious the ex-assassin did not know he was emitting such things. This was a man that carried his own destiny. Refusing and resisting the world to control him until he himself willingly obliged and gave in. So to witness a man of reputation willingly give into and devote his loyalty so fast to he, the Gandmaster was surprising.
"Oh you've had other masters in your years Shay and by the sound of their tales and that reputation you've acquired, apparently even they couldn't earn your respect" Haytham said with a knowing look; the one that dared Shay to try to tell him wrong. Shay looked up to shoot a glare. Haytham merely waited a moment to see if he would retort back. When that was not to be the case, he added, "I can see your reasoning for who can earn said respect is at a fault here. The only respect earned are the ones you take an...usual fancy to it would seem, no?"
The piercing stare dissolved as a smirk arose onto the other man's face, the shining look of arrogance dawning onto his posture as Shay inquired satirically, "Are you claimin' my respect is really a love at first sight theory, Sir?"
He heard a low chuckle rumble from his master, a rare occurrence to have happen for sure. Not that it was bad, having the usual uptight and harsh grand leader lower himself down enough to crack a smile always made the ex-assassin's day. After all, it seemed he was one of the few that could actually accomplish this. Relaxing a little, he watched as Haytham shook his head and finally responded with, "Hardly, but I do suppose abstractedly it could be a valid point- Either way by your reactions, I fear I have come up with a task I may be over my head on."
"Come on now, Master Kenway" Shay scoffed with a tilt of his head, eyes glimmering with joviality as he added encouragingly, "You love a good challenge."
Haytham shifted, nodding and looking up to the skies as if to avoid admitting enjoying having Shay as his own personal challenge, but in the end he managed to mutter, "Indeed." That received a triumphant smile from the hunter. Looking to him, Haytham gave a mocking look as he strutted forward so he were toe-to-toe with his counterpart, "After all if I did not enjoy a challenge, then I would have been deemed insane to put up with you on the search for the precursor sites." Shay found himself laughing to that with raised brows, a gloved hand of his stroking at his chin with a grin. A sense of good banter too? He was on a roll.
The Grandmaster took note of the skies, the fiery hue dying like embers into an amber hue. It was getting late, later than he expected. As much as he had grown fond of the captain's company, there was his own acquisitions he had to partake in. Shifting in place a moment, Haytham sighed, "Right well...I must see to the progress of the precursor coordinator for now, as well as you. Perhaps the even that follows I shall have an arrangement for us in means to practice those manners you dearly save for myself." With sights of the ship itself empty, as well as the docks Haytham continued, "Also do instruct your crew to clean up a bit, I am afraid their momentary tavern carousing has gotten them rather lazy upon their own tasks. Fare you well Shay, I'll see to our accommodations once there's a report on how that heist of yours and Weeks go". With one last glance to ensure not a soul had lingered into the docks, Haytham leaned forward a little; just enough to place a light peck on the scar above the younger mans brow. Backing up a little he studied the man a moment before turning on heel and heading off the ship, calling behind him, "Dress appropriate for an outing. Blood stains decorating your long coat is not a way to go about a town in a civil manner." Reaching the dock platform, Haytham stopped and turned to look at the captain.
" Consider it a start to your rehabilitation."
Shay watched as his master then sauntered away down the docks and into the emptying streets, a small smile finding its way onto his features. With a nod to himself he breathed out in affirmation, "Will do Sir" before taking a moment to register exactly what the man ordered. He frowned and looked down at himself, smoothing creasing and deep maroons speckling the black. It wasn't like he had been docked for long, hardly even a few days. With a sigh he shook his head, he'd figure out how to rid of the stains later...maybe just take of the shillings in the canon funding of Gists and get it cleaned by an actual maid who knew what she was doing than he himself. Gist can survive a little longer without the canons, the Morrigan was still a superpower of a ship so far, she can improvise until then.
For now though, work needed to be done and there was a lot to cover by the time it was evening on the morrow.