A typical galleon found upon the Sea of Thieves housed four crew members. This, however, was the Reaper's Call, a very atypical galleon and her crew currently numbered six, all of whom were strewn about the ship.

For how many times this had happened before and would happen again, Z thought that the crew would have found better ways to cope with being stuck under becalmed conditions. The last time the wind had abandoned them, they were in the company of another ship and her crew and it proved to be an immense boon to everyone's boredom. This time they were not even at an island. They did have a rowboat and there were plenty of ideas of what they could do with it, but with no land reasonably nearby, there was no point. Everyone much preferred to keep it than to risk it in a scheme to stave off boredom, anyhow.

They were stuck in open water. So many islands seemed close, yet they were totally out of reach. The crew would have to make do with what they had aboard the ship. There was nothing that they found themselves needing, but soon their wants grew into irritations that they could not ignore. Fishing became tedious and even the most delicious catches became boring to their mouths. Eating the bait and seeing who was the least sick — or who could hold their stomach entirely — only kept them amused for so long. Fruit and grog were there as well, but those had to be rationed responsibly to avoid causing any unnecessary trips to the Ferry. Blue's rum stash had saved their sanity many times before so her comment of wanting to replenish that stung like a wasp nest.

Z had not left the cabin in nearly three days now, only stepping out onto the balcony to make sure that the others had not killed each other when their shouting became more energetic than he was comfortable with. At present, he lazily sat at the desk, head tilted so that he stared at the ceiling where the wheel was. He had grown tired of writing and found this to be a comfortable position to be in while he cleared his mind, but now it wandered. Blue had strung a hammock up between the wheel and railing to rest in when she had become tired of dealing with the crew, claiming the entire quarter-deck for herself. Z couldn't help wondering if she'd moved at all in the past few days.

Today he had the front door open so that he could better observe the few movements there were on deck. Not terribly long after he did that, Ven dropped his bulk down from his hammock near the top of the main-mast to go on walkabout. He and Edmund had spoken very little before this, yet now they struck up a conversation. In itself, this was not strange, but Z found himself wondering if Ven had come down in the first place simply because the door was open. He reasoned that he couldn't be too upset about that if it led to two of his shipmates getting to know each other a little better. He definitely could not complain when the remaining two crew members came topside and the quartet sat at the fore-deck. After a few days of everyone staying apart, tempers seemed to have cooled enough for the group to play cards. Their situation had not changed, so thankfully it was a quiet game with no one pushing anyone's boundaries. Despite the good he saw in this, Z couldn't help his mood souring slightly as he observed.

In the time they had been stuck, there had been hardly anything to add to the ship's logbook. It had been dreadful to force himself to write in it. Putting their situation down to paper on a day-to-day basis was hard. Despite that, Z had not wanted to neglect it and break his newly forged habit. The other book before him, however, was at its last page, the binding filled. Writing down his wandering thoughts and previous adventures had been so much easier than documenting their current struggle; fun even. He had only begun the book in earnest a few days ago when everyone began isolating themselves. Perhaps, he decided, he should take a break, clean up and go join them.

Once sure that the ink was dry, the book was closed. The quill was put in its stand beside the inkwell, which he inspected; as usual, he had made too much ink. Z had an excuse to come back and fill the logbook with something interesting. That binding was placed in the middle of the desk, everything else pushed to the side.

With a tidier space accomplished, he lifted his head to observe the deck again. In the time that he had in tending to his writing tools, the group had spread out and someone had disappeared. He was about to stand and investigate when a commotion started above him and he paused, head tilting as though he could look through the ceiling. He heard Blue yell, someone whoop, the others laugh, and then everyone but Ven was on their feet. Somehow, he wasn't surprised to see that someone had snuck their way up to the wheel to disturb the other isolated crew member. Being obnoxious to forcefully get someone's attention was an old song and dance within this crew, even if they had all wordlessly acknowledged that they shouldn't right now. Yet, to take her golden mask and taunt her with it seemed quite bold of Marcus. Even with his wiry frame, his hair was so tall that Z wasn't sure how he had managed to be stealthy.

With a solid thud, Blue's boots hit the deck just beyond the door, their owner having vaulted over the railing; her white garments were striking against the ship's dark hull. One hand rested upon her sword's grip, fingers drumming a threatening beat, ready to snatch her mask back when the opportunity presented itself. She seemed much more agitated than Z expected her to be, yet he wasn't sure if anyone else could sense it. A body or two being sent to the Ferry would ease the strain on their supplies, this was true, but would that do any good for the crew's morale?

Z found his feet and made his way to the doorway as the others' game progressed. Three surrounded Blue, tossing her mask to and fro, teasing her as they did. Ven had not stood from his seat near a harpoon and merely observed; surely he could see that this was not sporting for everyone involved. As Z took a few steps onto the deck, he felt certain that their newest crew member's stillness confirmed that suspicion, it had to, or else there was something else that stilled Ven that he could not discern.

Someone yelped and grabbed a handful of rigging, lunging upwards before giving the mask of a good toss. Another caught it and wiggled about on his feet, taunting Blue until she came closer to him. The three pirates surrounding her used their lean frames to dance about the deck as though they were cats in this game. Only when the chunk of gold was tossed again was Z able to intercept it, giving his oldest friend a good shove and inserting himself into the middle of the group.

"All right, that's enough out of you lot." Though he was concerned, the entire thing had been slightly amusing to watch so Z couldn't help a small grin, a quirked brow. It was good to see everyone's spirits lifted, but he didn't approve of what had just transpired and so everyone except Blue was given as much of a look of disappointment as he could muster. He turned halfway to her when she was close and the item was passed over. "I know you guys are bored, but there's plenty t' do if y' need t' burn some energy."

Jackson seemed the most offended by that statement, or perhaps he was annoyed at being pushed. "Like what?"

Z shrugged. "Go through our supplies. Organise and count."

"There're twenty-three splashtails in the fish barrel. Twelve are rubies, two of which are trophy-sized. Every single one is perfectly cooked and still edible, if chewy, if you so please." Ven tilted his head at the other, taking in the expression he wore now. "We've a barrel filled evenly with firebombs and blunderbombs alike. Do you really need a count of those alongside the twenty-three cursed cannonballs we have? Three are the wraiths we have left after that little skirmish, by the way, and we didn't use any of the ballast-balls."

Z brought his hands up, exasperated. He spared a glance to Blue — she had replaced her mask and was again fully hidden behind her wardrobe — though she didn't seem to be paying attention. Z opened his mouth to speak, but it was Edmund who spoke first.

"W-We have exactly f-four times as many nails than planks and two-two dozen extra…" He twisted his lips and almost looked as though he was sad about this.

Ven looked between the two men and chuckled. "We've all gone through the supplies, mate. It's all counted. … And documented?"

He slowly drew a breath. Z knew this, he had written all of this down when it was originally reported to him and told everyone to come back to him if there were any meaningful changes to their supply situation. No one had.

"Truly, there is very little to do." It was Blue who spoke, done making minor adjustments to her hood and hair. "All anyone has to do here is sit with their thumbs up each other's arses. That pitiful breeze will not be taking us anywhere." The tips of the ship's pennant flags fluttered slightly against the masts. The sails could have been fully unfurled and they would have moved none. The crew may have even wondered if they were moving backwards.

"Yeah, alright, I get it. Whatever jobs there are t' do, you've all done 'em thrice over. I get it." Z gave a defeated sigh. "You all know better, though." He pointed to the group in general and spoke deliberately. "Find somethin' else t' do. Or, by Flameheart's beard, keep catchin' splashtails. They're good coin; we could spend that on somethin' that'll keep us en'ertained the next time this happens, and we all know it'll eventually happen again."

The majority of the crew seemed interested in those words. Ideas brewed in their heads and they were eager to share them. Z did notice that Ven wasn't quite as enthused by this, but it just seemed normal at this point. Blue, on the other hand, had retreated back to the quarter-deck and he found himself following her up the stairs all the way to the stern's railing.

"You that mad at them?"

"Hm?" She acted as though she hadn't heard him or was unsure what he was referring to, then shook her head. "Hardly. I am not in the mood is all."

"Half a week's a while t' be in a mood." She shifted, stood a little straighter, and Z wondered if he shouldn't have said that. "Jus' sayin'. It is."

"Is it? Is being stuck in open water with no means to move not something to be pissed about? We set off to start our first voyage in ages, to find anything, and here we are with nothing. It is rubbish and you know it or you would not have locked yourself away in the cabin these last few days."

Z sighed again and leaned heavily against the railing. "We all know this sucks. I'm jus' tryin' t' keep spirits high. It'd be nice t' not have anyone die this time around."

"For what reason?"

"Wh—" He nearly repeated her question, momentarily stunned. Instead, he laughed, realising that she was being quite silly. "Well, it's pretty nice when people don't die, y'know!"

"Is it now?" Blue was definitely toying with him.

"Uh huh. We've suffered through calm winds a few times now. I'd like t' get the crew through it at least once without someone dyin' somehow."

She gave him an overly exasperated sigh. "Yes, I suppose that might be a nice accomplishment. Last time…" She let the sentence trail off, finding that it was incredibly easy to reminisce about. She looked at him.

"Last time?" he repeated. The two looked at each other for a moment before bursting out in laughter. "Yeah, I think… I think we could all do with not ever repeatin' anythin' that happened last time. Can't help the fuckin' wind, but everythin' else?"

"Fuck everything else." They laughed again.

"Yeah, fuck that. That was… no-no, I guess it could have been worse. It can always be worse." Blue gave him a sideways look. Z shrugged and continued: "I'm sure it could've been worse. There was no kraken."

"Fair," she said, nodding.

The pair was quiet for a bit, getting comfortable on the quarter-deck. Z leaned back against the railing while Blue leaned her elbows on it, sometimes gazing down at the lifeless water. They silently appreciated each other's company, listened to the indistinct conversations taking place on the other side of the ship, but the air between them was tense. Z couldn't stand it and wished so desperately that he had gotten up right away and left the mess on the desk for later. Her mood weighed heavily on his mind.

"So, is that why you haven't left this spot?" he inquired.

Blue shifted, leaning more against the railing; he was sure she considered ignoring him. Then she groaned and stood upright. "Partly… partly. This is where I am most comfortable. That and you barricaded yourself in the cabin. I like it up here and it is a good place to look out from and it is away from the rest of the deck." She shrugged at him. "There is not much else I could ask for, is there?"

He couldn't help grinning at that, saying, "Well, y're always welcome to share the cabin with me." She gave him a look that he wasn't sure what to make of, especially when she didn't respond right away.

"… It is a little claustrophobic in there now, is it not?"

"I might not want t' be 'round anyone very much right now, but I'll always make an exception for you," he reasoned. It took such a long time for her to make a small noise of realisation that it seemed like she had to force it. He wasn't sure what to make of that.

The two loitered in silence a while longer before Blue's attention turned to their shipmates, the group scattered now. Ven, proving again to not be very social, had ascended and draped himself across the lowest yard of the main-mast while Jackson and Edmund were busied with a conversation. Where their doctor had gone, neither had seen.

"It's awfully quiet now." Of course, Z couldn't stand the silence.

"Not as quiet as it was earlier."

He made a face; she was right, they both knew that, but that was downright rude. He just wanted a conversation, even if he was failing miserably to start one. Blue really was in a mood. He couldn't stand it when she was like that.

"What do you want?" Blue spoke before he could.

"I— what?" He was taken aback by how direct she was.

"What do you want?" she repeated, speaking more slowly. "You have made your first appearance in near four days to 'save' me and now you follow me like a lost pup. I see your reasoning for coming out, keeping peace should it have ever been in danger, but now you stand and act as a sentinel… why, precisely?" She paused for effect. "Do you want something? Or did you not realise how lazy and lonely you had become in that room until now?"

All the colour had drained from his face as she spoke. He hated how easily she could read him, and how cruelly she had just used that against him. He should have expected it; he was being very clingy. He pulled his gaze away from hers before his face could become flush with colour again, crossing his arms as though he weren't perturbed at all. "J… jus' bored is all."

She chuckled haughtily. "Uh huh…"

With him properly chastised, Blue could fully focus on the rest of the crew. A little bit of excitement after their respite seemed to have done them well. Even if she appeared fine now, it didn't sit well with Z that the crew had decided to have fun at the sake of her well-being. Or perhaps he'd read the situation completely and utterly wrong and she had found it fun, too. Now he wondered. When Blue started back to the main-deck, he followed close behind.

Ven dropped down from the mast and situated himself at the base of the staircase opposite of the pair. They stepped off the last stair and he called, "Captain on deck!" Z had to spare a curious look to their newest shipmate. On the other hand, it excited Edmund that much more while Jackson just seemed relieved when the other's attention came off him.

"I-I need your thoughts on this," he started, excited. Edmund shifted in his position, unsure who to face the most. He ended up glancing between the two of them as he spoke. "Y'know how some of the sh-shopkeepers have those little music box things? You give the knob a, uh, um, a little spin and it plays… it plays a little tune. Sounds pretty good, right? What if we had those that played voices? Huh?"

Z and Blue had to take a moment to look at each other, stunned. The music boxes that some people kept were amusing little things, but never had they seemed useful for much of anything. Z rose a brow slightly. "Well… that's, uh…" Words eluded him.

"What would be the point?" Ever so on the nose, Blue was.

Edmund shrugged, making an 'iunno' noise as he did. "Wouldn't it be neat though? Y-you-you could leave voice notes for people in-instead of writing somethin' down for them!"

The two had to take another moment to look between each other; then they looked to Jackson. He still sat beside their crewmate, but he stared down at the deck with an expression of defeat. He didn't acknowledge them beyond a slow shake of his head.

"But why?" Blue asked again. "What's wrong with a written note?" She wanted a specific answer.

"N… nothin', I guess," Edmund said, making a face as though he was thinking very hard, a hand on his chin, fingers drumming once. "But how do you know a written note is actually from who it says it's from? Or-or that they weren't forced to write it?"

Blue tilted her head, putting her hands on her hips. "Fair." Edmund looked pleased with himself. "Now, how do you propose we prevent that from happening with auditory messages?" He looked less confident now, shocked even, as Blue made a very valid point. This seemed to catch the interest of Jackson and Ven as well and the three awaited a response.

Z saw the problem with this idea, where Blue was going with her line of thinking, and continued with it. "If you had to make someone do somethin' like that, then wouldn't it be easier to make someone write a note? If you forced someone to make one of these voice messages, you'd be hearin' somethin' wrong in their voice."

Edmund looked as though he'd had a realisation. Surely this couldn't work; the idea was ridiculous. Then he reasoned, speaking completely seriously: "Then it's got to also record a moving picture to show that the recorder is safe and sound."

Jackson shook his head vigorously now. Blue recoiled and exchanged yet another look with Z. Ven just stared at the sentient toothpick and was the first to speak.

"Are you insane?"

"No, ju-just sober," Edmund responded sadly after a moment. The others showed their agreement in varying ways, a few quiet comments, nods of the head — Ven was even more appalled by this.

"I suppose this may be one of the more reasonable ideas you have shared with us during downtime," Blue interjected. Edmund was proud of that, a toothy grin spreading across his face. "With so much magic here, it might not be that unreasonable of a concept. Ridiculous, but not wholly unreasonable."

"Moving, speaking pictures are not impossibly ridiculous to you?" Ven shot back. Blue just looked at him, stared, and kept staring until it became uncomfortable for everyone. He yielded first and broke his gaze from hers, looking down and away; she laughed.

"It is not impossible to imagine and it would not be the strangest thing that we have seen here."

"The things we've seen together," Z said. He had meant the things that she and he had experienced together, but that didn't stop most everyone from chuckling and nodding in agreement. Every one of the crew had a long history with each other and thus had their own stories of sailing the Sea of Thieves.

"This is a pretty strange place," Jackson commented. He and everyone else took note of Marcus finally reappearing, coming up the stairs from the lower decks. He gave everyone a wave with his free hand, the other occupied with a tankard. "Hey! Where've you been?"

The question was ignored in favour of Edmund being approached and given the mug. "Try this," Marcus said, a little too eager.

It definitely wasn't grog, anyone in the forming crowd could see that, though no one could pinpoint what it was. Edmund gave it a sniff and grimaced. "Wh-what is this?" he asked, concerned.

"Try it," Marcus reiterated, grinning.

Edmund gave him an unconvinced look before giving in and sipping at the drink. He coughed hard and cursed. "What is this?!" he spat, fighting the urge to vomit. The others were all giving each other curious glances now, the atmosphere becoming somewhat distressing.

"Mostly mangoes and pomegranates. I was hoping the bananas would make it taste better, but I guess not," Marcus answered, resting his chin on the side of his fist.

"Make what taste better?" Z asked, not entirely certain that he understood correctly.

Blue, on the other hand, did understand. "Have you been making moonshine?" she inquired, her tone slightly accusatory. She only looked mildly surprised when Marcus smiled and nodded.

"I have! I've been dipping my toes into the pool of alcohol crafting lately. This is no brew, but…" Marcus shrugged. "Well, it gets the job done. When you said you didn't have a rum stash anymore, I found a barrel that was almost empty and… repurposed it?" Blue was giving him a look as though she didn't approve. "For the good of the crew, of course…"

"For the good of the crew," she repeated. She couldn't help noticing Edmund eyeing the tankard in his hand before sipping at it again. This time he was prepared for the awful taste and didn't recoil so hard, able to drink a little more. She shook her head and chuckled.

"You guys gotta try this. It tastes like shit, bu-but… but whoa!" He slurred his words a little more than he stuttered.

The rest of the crew exchanged worried glances. Marcus took the mug away from the guy, but not to drink from it himself. Instead, he held it out for someone else to try, furthering everyone's concerned expressions.

"I've tried it myself. It's awful, but it'll get you real drunk real fast," he said, words that offered some comfort. Jackson trusted their shipmate and accepted the offer, but even with some amount of preparation, he, too, found himself coughing. He passed the mug to Z who didn't even try to hide his apprehension but tried it nonetheless; his reaction was similar. When he offered it to Ven, the other just gave him an unimpressed stare and Blue had already stepped away from the others before the tankard could reach her.

"I suppose there is no harm. We have been out here for… for a while…" She trailed off as though to consider exactly how long they had been becalmed, then simply shook her head. She glanced about the crew to assess everyone's condition and mood before looking to Marcus again. "I presume we still have plenty to eat if no one noticed the fruit you used going missing?"

He nodded in response.

"Do we have any pork?" Jackson interjected.

"If we do, it is quite old. Not very good for eating and even less good for getting the fat out of," was Blue's response, guessing his intentions. "A wildsplash may suffice instead…" That seemed to lift his spirits. "Just make sure you use the brown ones, yeah?" He nodded and bolted downstairs.

"We don't have any popcorn then?" Z asked. Blue shook her head.

"There is some splashtail jerky…" He made a face at her, to which she shrugged.

Marcus spoke up: "I caught a ruby earlier. I could fry that up instead." Everyone was more welcoming of this idea.

"I do recall your over-fried splashtail tasting better than any jerky we ever made," Blue said thoughtfully, nodding a moment later. Yes, that was a nice idea. The rest of the crew voiced their excitement. "Make up a nice dinner for everyone then, would you?"

Much of the crew found themselves downstairs at some point to prepare food or let it be known what they wanted. Everyone was eager to sate their cravings as best they could, to be merry with food and drink, the rationing temporarily forgotten or ignored thanks to Marcus's unauthorised — but much appreciated — moonshine.

With snacks being sorted out, some attention was then diverted to where the crew would converge properly for the first time since losing the wind. Even with cooler temperatures, no fires had been allowed anywhere on the ship except inside the lanterns. This had not stopped Edmund from asking about it one more time, unable to help himself. This time Blue gave him the okay.

"Mind yourself," she started to tell him, grabbing his arm before he could scurry off. "We will cover this grate and you will build a fire here—" she pointed to the one between the captain's cabin door and the main-mast "—and you will take very good care to build it properly. Marcus and I will check your work just in case. We'll not have a repeat of what happened to your sloop when it last left the bay, shall we?" Everyone found this to be agreeable. No one wanted to burn the Call down; that would be a very silly tale to tell at an outpost. Edmund gave her a sad noise before he disappeared to find kindling.

Though it had been quite some time since the crew had taken the ship to an island, longer still a proper port, they had excess supplies that made for an exciting party. The fire was a modest thing, yet it may as well have been a raging bonfire on a beach for what it did to the crew's spirits. Even Ven had found a place to sit himself down at amongst the crew, though Blue still kept to herself upon the quarter-deck. Everyone involved was in a good mood, drinking or not, and while everyone ultimately meant well, the excess energy the crew had was beginning to show itself.

When taunting came his way, Ven made it clear he wasn't perturbed by words. This led to Jackson and Marcus pushing the matter, suggesting that each of them could take him on in a friendly competition. A scrawny squad made up of the thin forms of Jackson, Marcus, and Edmund could have posed a threat to anyone but Ven, who was still larger than everyone else. Z was not a small man by any means and the other still had an entire head over him. He had no wish to spar with him and was appalled when Jackson suggested it.

"I don't plan on wakin' up with anythin' more than a hangover tomorrow," Z responded. "So, fuck you and fuck that and fuck you." That got a chuckle out of the group.

With Z firmly sidelined, the idea had somehow come up that the other three could face Ven in a three-on-one competition. Whether this was fair or not was discussed momentarily until Edmund voiced his disinterest; he was too drunk, too cheery, and he preferred to be a spectator anyway. Jackson and Marcus were so thoroughly enthused with this idea that they considered continuing as a duo.

Ven had been nursing the same tankard all evening; he was of perfectly sound mind. Blue was, too. Everyone else was quite inebriated, something she could see. Z had been able to look out for himself, but the others would have to be told. Still up at the helm, she did just that, scolding all of them for this and that. Everyone looked to her and voiced their annoyances of her interference to varying levels, but Ven yielded immediately to her word and so the rest of the crew would have no other option but to relax as well. They quietly grumbled their grievances until Z, in a moment of clarity, pointed out how it seemed like they had tried ganging up on their newest crewmate for no discernible reason. They reconsidered and their previous rambunctiousness settled. Sporting fun or not, Z was glad for this, his goal of no deaths this becalming that much closer.

Somehow, a story had begun. Edmund was now standing with purpose, poorly reenacting the shock he felt one evening when he arrived at an outpost that he had thought to be empty. There had been no ships about, the shops were closed, yet a trio of pirates greeted him on the beach as though nothing were amiss. A small detail was called into question and the crew was bickering about it. Ven, however, saw the bigger picture.

"How did you get there in the first place?"

"Rowboat!" Jackson chirped, pointing a finger at him for no reason.

Ven mentally berated himself for not asking a better question when all of his idiotic company was currently drunk. "What business did you have at that outpost that didn't require your ship?"

"Y'see… the funny thing about that ship…" Jackson couldn't keep a straight face, couldn't help that his giggles turned into full-blown belly laughs. Edmund and Z found themselves laughing with him.

"Bad things happened to that ship," Blue chimed in from her perch, musical delight in her voice. Ven didn't look any more enlightened. "We lost the ship, but not our lives, nor our, ah, newly acquired goods." She shrugged when he stared at her in disbelief.

"And what series of events led to this?" Ven inquired.

Blue took a moment to think. "Certainly, there was a series of events with many factors, though I am unsure whether any were quite as relevant as quadruple our own number of cannons being fired upon us…"

"We did not make good decisions that day," Jackson commented.

Z chuckled, adding, "No, no, we made mistakes that day."

Blue tilted her head. "Really now? I recall you being quite eager to face our doom!"

"And… and what the hell happened exactly?" Ven asked. The rest of the crew was having a bit of a laugh. If asked, he would say it was at his expense for surely he was the only one here who hadn't heard this story in some way or another. He pointed at Edmund; "Your story is amusing yet only because of pure recklessness on your part. You—" he pointed at Blue "—can't simply suggest that there was a war leadin' up to this little meeting of yours!"

Blue stayed at her post, shrugging coolly. "Why not? That is essentially what happened." She looked to Z and Jackson. "Is it not?" They laughed.

Everyone was most certainly having a laugh at his expense, Ven decided. "One of you—" he looked between the four individuals that had a place somewhere within this story; Marcus was sat off to the side and hardly able to hold his drink or sit upright he was giggling so hard "—needs to explain what the hell happened earlier in this tale."

Blue tilted her head. "I am sure that you will find more questions to ask." He gave her an exasperated look. "See, part of the reason we lost that ship was because I could not wield a sword at the time." His expression became one of concern. "See? More questions." Blue noticed the others giving her similar looks now. "What?"

"I know it's not really that relevant anymore, but… you never mentioned that to him?" Marcus asked.

"Not relevant at all anymore. Why would I mention it to anyone?"

"Mention what?!" All eyes went to Ven; he was reasonably upset about these things that he didn't know about but that yell had been startling.

"Questions, questions. Keep interrupting and you might as well just ask how Z and Jackson first found each other, or how far back Jackson and Rylund go." Blue couldn't help finding some amusement in this. He usually didn't talk much, but when he did, he either had something very important to say, or it was like this and Ven made a conversation go on and on, far beyond where it needed to go. Uncommon as it was, she was ready to keep poking him when she noticed an uneasy expression crossing Jackson's face.

"Uh, speaking of that… how did you and Z meet?" he asked. That got everyone's attention. The crew exchanged looks that differed from worrisome to curious.

Sobering up a little bit, Z looked to Blue and spoke up. "Have… have we not talked about that?"

"I suppose not. I've not. You've not?" He shook his head at her words. The two of them each looked at their veteran crew members. "Then… no. Hmm. Curious. We have told our story of meeting Edmund so many times."

"I know I've asked!" the aforementioned twig hollered.

"Right, right… Ah, yes, after that ambush at the Hideout. I do believe I told you to go the fuck to sleep." Blue nodded to herself; that sounded about right.

"Have we really never talked about how we met?" Z asked again, incredulous.

"Why would we?" Blue shot back. He couldn't tell what sort of tone of hers that was, if it was sarcastic or rhetorical or even literal.

"Well, I want to hear!" Edmund interjected, still much louder than he needed to be.

"It really is not that interesting."

Z rose a brow at her. "It's pretty interesting." Blue gave him an unimpressed look. "Okay, fine, not really, but you and I did pull some crazy shit together after we got used to each other. And with the crew. You really think we would've managed it on our own?"

"Perhaps."

"Nah, I don't think so," Z shot back. "Without us, without me, you never would've had the idea t' steal that map, then we never would've gone t' the Roar and then t' Galleon's Grave. We never would've ended up at Old Faithful, never would've ended up here. That was fate, mate." Z was feeling quite haughty.

"Fate be damned." Blue's tone was venomous. Had that made Ven uneasy? Z wondered what that was about. Everyone else either didn't care or wasn't sober enough to notice his tense posture. And had anyone else noticed how quiet he had become?

"I've made my point, though, haven't I?" Z reiterated.

Blue huffed and leaned heavily against the helm's railing. "Yes, I suppose you have made an argument I cannot tear down." He beamed slightly at that. "However, that does—"

"I wanna hear this stoorrryyy!" Edmund was whining now. The others murmured their agreement; Ven concurred loudly. Everyone wanted to hear this tale.

Blue's expression at this point was quite indiscernible, mask or not. She put an elbow on the railing, chin resting in that arm's hand, still as she looked down at the others. Z paid her little mind; the crew had cast their vote. He had no idea this had somehow become a secret and found himself eager to share.

"Okay, okay, so—" Z stopped himself, finding his tankard annoying. He gulped down what remained of his moonshine, shivered in repulsion, and forced himself to keep it down before tossing the mug aside. "So," he started again, excited; "down in the Isles, I had just taken this galleon's—"

"Oh, would you stop that?" Blue chided. "You are terrible at telling stories at your best. Now, you can hardly stand straight and you are slurring your words. Sit down by the fire." Z was damn near ready to fight her over this, hands tightening as he gave her an insulted look. She stood tall between the wheel and railing. "If this story must be told, then I will tell it and tell it proper. I suppose you are right after all." Z just about fell over in relief. Edmund and Jackson cheered a little louder than was necessary while Marcus ducked below deck to fetch everyone more drink.

"I will warn you, this is quite a story. It's much longer than you realise, one that leads to more adventures, some which you may or may not have been part of yourself or heard of from another, and I am sure that those of you that were not will want to hear of those, too. Some of them have happy endings. Some do not." Blue could be incredibly dramatic when she wanted to be. Her standing above them at the helm made her words that much more powerful, pulling everyone in with ease.

"You are the best storyteller…" Edmund murmured, eyes adoring.

Blue paused to just stare at him. Then she turned to the slightly thicker man beside him. "Jack, is there—"

"Yeah, I'm on it," he said, already realising she wanted him to bring more meat to help steel up the alcohol rattled twig. He returned after just a moment with more than enough fried fish for everyone to share. Edmund was heavily encouraged by everyone to eat rather than drink what Marcus had just brought him. With that taken care of, Blue recollected herself and regained her mantle of storyteller above them.

"This is a record of adventures, battles won and lost, of voyages taken here within the Devil's Shroud, and even some outside of it. This tale does not merely revolve about the great heroes and evils of these waters but also of her people, the neighbourhoods, the creatures that all live upon her territory.

"This story begins in the southern edge of the Ancient Isles on a beautiful day when the sun was highest in the sky, on a day of ample wind with wonderful water at an empty outpost. The skeletons were quiet, no fortresses or fleets loomed on the horizon, in a time before the Damned threatened the living, when dragons slept in their lairs, and when cryptic messages did not wash ashore or drift amid the flotsams. It was a good day." Blue paused so she could put her hands on either side of the railing. She slouched to one side, nearly resting her head on her own shoulder by the time she was done adjusting her posture. As she did this, her gaze went to Z. He returned the look as he sipped his drink, unable to help a smirk.

"Or it was, until that asshole showed up."