James Paal entered the crew cabin where he would be staying for the entirety of Titanic's maiden voyage and sighed deeply. His quarters were slightly more spacious then he had imagined, and this had come as a pleasant surprise. It was almost a shame that he would have little time to spend in the cabin, since he would be working long hours stoking the boilers in the engine room.
There was a set of three bunk beds lining one of the walls, which meant that James would be sharing this room with two other people.
Hope they're at least decent folks. James thought to himself as he sat down on the bottom bunk. He had chosen the lowest bed simply because there was no way he could fit into either of the others due to his burly stature. As he looked around the room once more, he heard the door creak open and watched as two boys entered, luggage in tow. They looked almost identical: they both had snow-white hair though they appeared to be only in their twenties, very noticeable cerulean blue eyes, and they wore black formal suits with black neckties in a bow around their necks. The only difference between them was that one boy was about two inches or so taller than the other. It occurred to James that they could be brothers, if not twins.
"You guys brothers or somethin'?" The burly man questioned without even bothering to introduce himself.
The two newcomers exchanged glances before the taller one replied. "Yes, we're twin brothers. I'm Vincent Aria, and this is Vergil. We'll be musicians aboard this ship."
The one who had been introduced as Vergil gave a slight nod as to confirm the information and acknowledge James.
"Musicians, huh? Sounds better than workin' the boilers. But anyway, it's nice to meet ya. The name's James Paal, but ya can call me Seven for short."
Vergil furrowed his brow. "Why Seven? Er, well… I mean, it seems a bit strange for a nickname…" He spoke quietly; almost as if he were uncomfortable in the company of anyone save for his brother.
"It's a long story, kid." Seven grunted and shifted slightly on his bed. "I was a cop for a long time, see? They called me Seven since it only took me seven words to get a guilty criminal to confess. Bein' a cop is also where all the scars on this mug came from." He pointed to a particularly visible scar on the side of his face.
"That sounds impressive. Although… If you were so good, why did you quit? You did use past-tense and said that you were a cop." As soon as Vincent asked the question, his younger brother elbowed him in the side.
"That's rude, Vincent." Vergil hissed under his breath. "You shouldn't ask things like that!"
Before Vergil could do any further reprimanding, Seven removed the dark brown, paperboy-style hat he had been wearing on his head and turned it over in his hands a few times while formulating a response. "I don't mind tellin' you folks, so long as you keep it quiet. The honest truth-" He stopped short in the middle of his sentence. "Why don't you two sit down first? This will take a while, so your legs would get real tired."
The twins nodded and took a seat on their trunks, doing their best to get comfortable.
"Alright, then. As I was sayin', the honest truth is that I didn't quit bein' a cop. I was fired. Like I told ya before, I could always get 'em to talk with only seven words, but this guy was different. He was a killer, and we all knew it, but we just didn't have the evidence to convict 'im." James paused and looked at Vincent, who looked like he was dying to ask a question. "Calm down, kid. I'm getting to how I knew. It was because this low-life killed my wife and kid, and she managed to tell me who it was with her dying breath." James' eyes were clouded over with grief, and he had to pause for a moment to regain his composure.
"I… I am so sorry…" Vergil apologized, though he felt it wasn't quite enough.
Seven shook his head, still looking a bit sullen. "Don't apologize. It wasn't your fault. The murderer's name is Mikael Arlovoski, and the guy's still on the loose. I knew he killed 'em, so I forged evidence to get 'im the guilty sentence he deserved. I just couldn't let 'im get away with destroying my family, and I wouldn't let 'im kill again… But in the end, I got caught and Arlovoski got away. …Well, that's the end of it."
Vergil and Vincent were speechless. Neither of the musicians had imagined that Vincent's prying could lead to such a depressing tale, especially coming from the mountain of a man that sat across from them.
Seven suddenly cleared his throat, bringing the awkward silence that had enveloped the room to a close. "Since I shared my story, I figure you oughtta share yours. So, what's with this white hair of yours? Ain't ya a little young to be grey?"
As they had done earlier, the two brothers exchanged glances before Vincent began to explain. "The color isn't exactly natural, you see. Our hair used to be platinum blond, but it turned white due to stress."
"When we had just turned thirteen, our whole family got into an accident of sorts." Vergil picked up the story where Vincent left off. "The four of us had gone to the opera house for some entertainment, but the stage somehow caught of fire due to one of the props. It spread through the entire building, and many people didn't have the time to escape. …Our parents were among those people, and the emotional trauma from that event caused our hair to become like it is now."
James Paal was quiet for a moment as he pondered the twins' story. "Guess we've got somethin' in common, then. Ya got a past you'd rather not talk about, and I'm the same way. Looks like I'll get along with you folks just fine. Now, I have to be getting' down to the steam engine room so we can start this beauty up. I'm bettin' you boys have your own stuff to attend to, so I'd best be goin'." Seven gave them a smile as he left the room for work.
