human
Lights in the Neath. Subtle, half-hidden sighs of relief against the background of steam and pistons. All eyes were turned to London, the shining sanctuary in the dark, an escape from the cold dark of the zee. Somewhere to fill bellies, to drink and carouse and fuck their fears away with pockets stuffed to bursting with echoes. Already the clay men were set to work, the eerie automotons of the far eastern zee hauling crates up onto deck. Most of the crates, anyhow. After all... not all cargo aboard the Haypenny Whore bore mentioning to the port authorities. Not if they wished to keep it.
Captain Charles Thurston crewed the helm, subtly guiding the ship past the floating light buoys that lined the approach into the docks at Wolfstack. Known as a master of procurement in the seedier bits of London and beyond - and a rapscallion to be carefully observed by any authority worth their salts - he headed up this rogue's gallery with practical mindedness, street-born graces, a sharpened shiv of wit, and just that touch of bravery - or was it madness? - that made for a fine zee captain. Dressed in a longish blue-black admiralty jacket - stolen - with brass buttons polished to a shine, black trousers and a fine pair of bat-hide boots, he certainly managed to look the part quite well. Tall, lean and just shy of forty years - forty yearsyoung, thank you very much - Charles cut a fine figure indeed, with black hair that was just beginning to grow salt-and-peppery cropped in a neat, tight tail at the base of his skull, framing a face that, while slightly grizzled from an adult life spent at zee, held a handsomeness to it that couldn't be denied. Blue eyes were alight with the shine of London over a crooked nose, mouth a thin line surrounded by thick, short beardliness and framed with a strong jaw. "London's callin', ladies an' gents. Look alive an' hide yer goodies, best we look presentable. Lord knows the port authority'll be up our backsides if we're not vigilant."
The chief engineer shoveled another load of coal into the hungering maw of the ship's engines and was rewarded with a gout of smoke and a rumbling that he liked to pretend was the machine's thanks. One last load for London. The fire crackled and cast dim red light on his skin, alight on the sweat of his bare torso and the steel in his limbs. Marcus Caruthers, known to friends and less-than-savory acquaintances alike as Tin Man, was more man than machine, and would remain that way until another accident might claim more flesh. Lean as a whip and muscled like a pugilist, the engineer stood a head shorter than most on deck but made up for it with his own little fixes. Adorned in tattoos and piercings from dozens of ports across the zee, his flesh was as decorated as the metal he wore. An arm and eye had been lost to the jaws of a zee serpent some years back, and while the good doctor had saved the rest of him from being repurposed as fish bait - "Though he really seems effective at it, doesn't he?" - he'd been without appendage and depth perception. Rather than head ashore to make a go of life as a cripple, he'd put his talents to work. He'd crafted the framework, and the doctor had done the rather painful experimentation needed in creating a biomechanical man. A great, stainless steel right arm, powered by steam and a core of undying hellfire, and a firmly fixed brass plate that wrapped around the right side of his skull, keeping the structure braced together. In that brass was set a series of lenses, offering him not only the vision he'd lost, but even greater than he'd ever had in his life. The ensemble left him with one mischievous green eye, one side of his head quite permanently bald, with the other shaven and thoroughly tattooed, the top a wild sprout of fiery red hair that was very much like a stallion's mane... if he had any idea just what a horse might be. Dressed at that moment in only a pair of dark, pin-striped trousers and heavy black boots, he tramped up towards the deck, all glistening sweat, shining steel and streaks of coal.
The ship's doctor arrived on deck mere moments after the engineer, his heavy black bag in hand. A cheery enigma from the Iron Republic, he'd given his proper name only once upon boarding the vessel. "Master Zsx'couhtlus, at your service." Empty stares, a sigh. The demon was quite used to this from Londoners. "Mister Zed, if it please you. Doctor Zed, if you're feeling fancy." So, Zed it was, and Zed it had been for some years now. His practices bordered on arcane, eldritch horrors. More than once he'd insisted on a blindfold and earmuffs during a procedure. "No peeking, else you'll go quite mad," he'd been known to say ever so matter-of-factly, as if he were simply observing the weather. His methods were notforhumans, strictly speaking, but they didworkon humans, and that was often enough. Zed was a cheerful mystery bound up in ever-changing flesh, for he was, indeed, a shifter of shapes as it pleased him. "Or, as it pleases others," he'd teased during one particularly flirtatious moment deep in his cups. His face was rarely if ever changed, though the rest of him was bound to whatever whimsy struck him that day. Today, he was a good head above everyone else on the ship, clothed in a close-fitting brown waistcoat over a white shirt with a smart-looking black tie to match the trousers and shined-up shoes he wore. From his head sprouted a largely untamed, upswept coif of greenish hair, his face covered as it often was as they neared London. "I watched that plague. You lot stink to the high heavens," he'd said in justification once before. Indeed, said plague from before London's descent into the Neath had inspired his current favorite facial wear. An iron-bound, neatly bronzed mask with an overlong, conical nose sprouting from the front that wasn't unlike that of some enormous fishing bird. He'd adopted the design from a human plague doctor who'd found himself in hell some ages ago, before crawling up out of Mount Palmerston for a fresh start. The glass lenses glowed eerily from within, lit by the blaze that was ever-present behind his amber eyes, and one might note the smell of iron, salt and just a whif of brimstone in that long nose. His favored scents, all for blocking out the stinks of London.
The bustling corvette eased its way into the docks at the captain's practiced insistence until, at long last, the great pillar of black smoke that belched from the stacks simmered to a few wisps, the engine dying down as Marcus saw to the shutdown process before emerging in a high-collared tan coat, hands both flesh and steel tucked into the front pockets. "Bellows are snoozin' pretty, cap'n," came the call. "Let's set anchor an' see to a pint." Already, black-hatted guards approached the Haypenny, all jackboots and truncheons. "Ach, Christ's bones," came the spitting curse from Captain Thurston. "You lot get on, I've got Cap'n Thorne an' his lovelies to call off." With a flourish, he produced the shipping manifest his first officer had provided him, strolling on down the gangway. "Ah, lads! Good to see ya. Think you'll find everythin's ship-shape. Even the ship."
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Czarina kept meticulous records. Legal cargo was to be sealed, stamped, and delivered promptly to receive the maximum payment offered by the contractors willing to hire the Haypenny Whore for their delivery needs. In her tiny, cramped office aboard the rogue vessel - which was really just a repurposed supply closet big enough to put in a filing cabinet, a squeaky chair, and a desk Marcus was kind enough to saw in half for her - she kept ledgers upon ledgers, neatly stacked, that detailed every single transaction and voyage the Haypenny had taken since she joined its crew eight years ago. She started off as a simple zailor looking to escape the gutters and trash bins of London, but she had one quality that made her recognizable above all the others: an eidetic memory. And that was where the ledgers detailing the contents of all their illegal goods were kept. It was hard to find proof of smuggling when it wasnt written down. The nimble redhead with a pleasant bust and rump, who wore her hair down in long, loose crimson curls, was an asset to the Haypenny, which was why her pretty little mind was best put to work not on the ships deck, but rather in the wheelhouse, navigating the long stretches of nearly endless zee so that the crew could find its way home again. She bore the title of First Officer proudly.
Near the rear of the ship, a lone figure stared off into the darkness, her plump lips wrapped around a smoke that showed up as a faint little red glow against the nothingness of the zee. Rubys dark hair, as always, was swept back into a tight ponytail, her trousers held up by suspenders over the dirty, grease stained shirt she normally wore to zee. As the ships gunner, she was responsible for the Haypennys equipment. She took care of the deck and forward guns, as well as polishing the light on the bridge that lit their way. She worked hand in hand with Marcus to keep the ship up in tip top working order, but her specialty was blowing the zee monsters to bloody little bits if they came within a hundred yards of the Haypenny. Ruby grew up a butchers daughter and never had qualms about killing anything, but she prefered to do it with a long range weapon rather than a butchers knife. Her heavy boots made loud thumps against the deck as she walked up towards the front; they were docking. Wolfstack Harbor was relatively safe, but she gave the men and women on the docks a steely stare, just daring them to touch the beautifully polished guns she so casually called her babies.
Among those in the crowd was a young, fair haired lass named Cynthia. She had been at the docks since dawn, waiting for the Haypenny to pull into the harbor. She wore a full length blue dress with white lace, her hair pulled back into a neat little bun at the base of her neck. She did not fit in with all the gruff dock workers and zailors, but she hoped to change that soon. Convincing her sister, Czarina, to put in a good word with the Haypennys captain took a lot of hard work. Her sister would have rathered that Cynthia finish her schooling, become a teacher, and settle down in the nicer side of London But like Czarina, Cynthia could not deny that something in the darkness of the zee called to her. As children they ate from garbage cans on the dock, watching the dark waves roll in, weaving their own stories about what it must be like to be a zailor Czarina went on to realize that dream, sending money back to put Cynthia up with a good family and send her to a good school, making a proper young lady out of her sister. But the blonde wanted more. Their father, as far as they knew, had been a zailor; thats where Cynthia swore she got the zee fever from. Supposedly he died in the darkness and for one reason or another, she had been driven to see the same things he did Perhaps she could even find his bones.
Cynthia waved to the crew as they began to disembark, most importantly to her sister. She planned on taking the place of the cook they lost at zee when the last one shacked up with a monkey in the Empire of Hands It was mildly disturbing to think of a man and a monkey together, but it presented as the perfect opportunity for Cynthia to join. Now she just needed to convince the captain.
human
"An enemy of capitalism, a piss-poor hand at all manner of cards, and the owner of the most absurd mustache I've ever seen." - Captain Charles Thurston of the Haypenny Whore, the year of Her Majesty 1885, on the subject of Guard Captain Thorne
There came Captain Reginald Thorne of the Wolfstack Guard and Customs Department. All prim and proper with his shiny boots and well-pressed uniform and fancy peaked cap, one might get the impression that that damnable clipboard was quite fused to his hand at this point, for he was never seen without it. The man was an insufferable thorn - pun intended, chortled at and vigorously apologized for - in the good zee captain's side, and had been ever since the Haypenny Whore had been caught red-handed transporting a few folks to Venderbight who weren't looking to die so much as to escape a death penalty. Then there'd been the time with the very much un-stamped crate of human souls hidden in the engine room. Jail time was never on the table, thankfully, but there were always plenty of very official fines and penalties, and the ever-dreaded seizure of any discovered contraband. His mustache - a bushy sort of beast with the ends delightfully curled upward with oils that Charles simply couldn't stand - twitched with interest as he poked down the shipping manifest with a sharp pen. "Mushroom wine, five units... parabola-linen, seven units..." As the clay men unloaded crate after crate, they were pried open right on the docks, inspected, stamped, passed on. "Looking very legitimate here, Thurston. I'm proud. Now here's hoping our inspection of the ship won't give us reason to quarrel, hm?"
"Do the deed, then. My lads'll be on board to make sure ya don't muck up the place. Now if you'd - OI! MIND THE GOODS, YOU RAT-FACED SLUGS!" Charles' hand shot out in an accusatory point, shoving past the captain in haste. "You break them casks, you buy 'em! An' I'll tan yer rotten hides to boot!" An eye back to Thorne as the apology was shouted back to him, anger rippling through the captain. "You keep your lads in line, Thorne, or I'll be shoving my boot so far up their hindquarters they taste bat-leather." A few colorful threats, and one captain trudged off to shore leave while the other started aboard in search of illicit goods.
He was joined quickly by Marcus, who'd grabbed a newspaper and was already perusing. The lens in his head clicked softly as his gaze turned along the lines, scanning hungrily for matters of particular interest. "This just in cap'n, the zee is dark an' full of terrors," he chimed in amusement. "Oooh, an' a coupon," he said in his most annoying way, the word coming out sounding like "coop'n". "Buy one get one on Mrs. Pennyweather's Eel-in-a-Tin. Right you are, Mrs. Pennyweather..." Gingerly, steel and flesh fingers tore at the paper, freeing the square coupon from the rest of the page and tucking it away in his jacket. "Pint, cap'n? God knows we've earned one." Not even waiting for an answer, he called back. "Czar? Ruby? Zed? Pint?" The engineer, it seemed, wanted a drink.
"Pint," called Zed from the middle of the pack, voice tinny from the mask he wore. "But not the Leadbelly, their grog tastes like fish. The sort of fish you shouldn't trust."
"No," said Charles with a fervent sweep of his hand. "Never the Leadbelly again, Christ, no. We'll hit up somewhere proper. Somewhere th' bloody beer doesn't blink at ya. Empty Cask'll do us."
So, the Empty Cask it was.
gpt
Pint! Ruby was already lighting a match for another smoke, casually tossing the still flaming stick into the zee after she was done with it. She took a long drag from the cigarette and let the smoke drift out from her nose, making her look like some mystical creature from ages past What did they call it? A dragon? Salt knows I need it Out of all of them, she was the most religious. Strange for a girl that grew up on land. Maybe thats why she felt the need to ask the gods of the zee for their mercy Almost as if she was trespassing on their property.
Meanwhile Czarina was leading the very proper looking blonde up to the ragtag group, holding the girl by her elbow and furiously whispering to Cynthia that she not embarrass the redhead in front of the crew.
Captain! Captain This is my younger sister, Cynthia.
Ruby gawked openly, looking back and forth between Czarina and Cynthia, trying to find the family resemblance. It was hard, but it was there. Their eyes were the same oval shape, their chins small and dainty, and the lines of their noses were sharp and perfectly angled. Cynthia was a wee bit taller than Czarina, even though both of them were wearing heels, but she was a willowy looking creature, one that Ruby knew had no business on the docks. Czarina was up to something.
The hell
Shut it! Czarina growled at the brunette and Ruby spat on the ground in disgust. The redhead turned back to Charles. As I was saying, this is my sister, Cynthia.
Hello, Captain Thurston Cynthias hand shot out for a handshake. Her skin was nearly the color of ivory and she wore white lace gloves. It is a pleasure to meet you Czarina has spoken very highly of you.
Yes, yes Czarina pushed her sister aside and got up close to the captain. Look We need a new cook and Cynthia Cynthia wants to go zailing. She wants to see what all the fuss is about. She drew in closer, so that her sister could not hear her. I think its just a fancy One trip, thats all Im asking for. Put her in the kitchens. She doesnt belong at zee but she wants to know what its like. Czarina regretted telling her sister all the stories she had of their adventures She had never even once considered that Cynthia might also have the zee fever of their supposed father.
Now she leaned in even closer, so that her lips could brush against Charles ear. You dont even have to pay her And Ill give your cock a good suck if youll just let her on this one time.
human
"Reasonable prices, cleanish glasses. Best of all, a well-cultivated distrust of busybodies and nosy-types. Speaking of which, bugger off." - Marcus "Tin Man" Caruthers, the year of Her Majesty 1885, on the subject of The Empty Cask harbor tavern
Pints all 'round, then. No better way to shake off the clingy memories of the zee than with an irresponsible amount of drinking. A good mug of frothy beer chased away the dark as well as any light, far as the good captain was concerned. However, even as the officers of the Haypenny Whore marched towards their salvation-in-a-cup, something showed up to block their way. Rather, someone. Czarina led some blonde towards the crew, a woman who had absolutely no business whatsoever being near the zee from the looks of her. God help her, what was she even doing in the harbor? She looked like she might even have, just perhaps... an education.
Cynthia, then. Marcus and Zed eyed her with open interest, the former smirking between her and Ruby while the latter let his eyes roam shamelessly over her form from behind the mask. Delicious little thing, wasn't she? Czarina's sister she might've been, but that didn't stop the demon from ogling. The captain, meanwhile, cast Czarina a hard look for the briefest moment, then put on a smile for the younger. "Pleasure's all mine, lass. An' I'm sure yer sister exaggerated plenty on my behalf, bless 'er heart." A handshake, a shared glance, and a quick tug away. It seemed Czarina had plenty more to say.
Her proposition was... interesting. Pretty lips on his member, and a potential cook. "God knows we need someone to cook. 'Nother night with Marcus at the stove and I'll keel over." Hard eyes flitted back to Cynthia a moment, though the older sister was proving plenty able to keep his gaze. "Hmph. Suck me or no, love, girl needs to know 'er way 'round a stove. I'll not have 'er poisonin' the lot of us on account of wantin' to get my member wet. 'Course..." He cast an eye towards Marcus. The Chief Engineer had mentioned something called "Stygian Surprise" for dinner as soon as he got ahold of the proper supplies, and Charles feared it like the plague. "Anythin' better than Tinny's cookin'."
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He had his reservations. Czarina expected that. She agreed with him about Marcus cooking It wasnt pleasant. And normally anything would have been better - literally anything - but this is where Czarina had an ace up her sleeve; more precisely, Cynthias ace. See, Charles Thats where youre gonna really love this idea. Cynthia graduated from the culinary program. Czarina wanted her sister to study in a field that would lead to a prosperous life, but Cynthia had always been a little more artsy than her older sister and she was a brilliant magician in the kitchen. Youll be doing me a favor, gettin your cock sucked, and youll be eating five star cuisine for a few days, what do you say?
Behind them, Cynthia had noticed the other three officers in the crew openly staring at her. She offered them a shy smile and a little wave, her cheeks dusted pink. Ruby snorted and took a drag from her cigarette. Silly little girl she would get herself or one of them killed if the Captain was stupid enough to let her on. Hopefully he used his head, but since he was talking alone with the busty redhead, the gunner knew for sure that the Captain was only thinking with his cock.
human
"Never turn down a willing lady's mouth, lads. Clear pipes makes a clear mind, and a clear mind makes safe zailing." Captain Charles Thurston, the year of Her Majesty 1887, on the subject of affection
Marcus' cooking ranked among some of the foulest stuff he'd tasted outside of the Leadbelly, and that was a truly impressive feat. Even Zed, who'd once dined on a brisket sauteed in a slurry of human souls - savory, with just a hint of screams - had once confessed that Marcus' cooking made him feel "lumpy and wrong". It was a testament to how bad it was that most of those aboard didn't fear getting back onto the zee because of the dark terrors that waited on it, but the simple fact that it would be a return to Marcus' culinary travesties. So, when Czarina mentioned her sister's rather prestigious training in fine cookery, his brow perked.
"Five stars, eh? On my vessel?" He smirked at that. "A poor sight she'll find it, I think." He glanced past Czarina at the younger woman, stifling a sigh. Pretty little thing didn't belong anywhere near the zee, much less on it. However... "A turn 'round Palmerston and the Khanate. She'll whet her fancies, we'll all eat proper fer a change, an' us two'll have ourselves a party. Why you'd be so eager to subject a pretty lass like that to th' zee's terrors, I'll never know... but, we'll take 'er."
Marcus smirked over at Ruby, as if the two shared a quiet joke. The joke being the girl, of course, who didn't look like she'd spent a day in discomfort. Just what was she doing here, anyhow? The captain and his first officer returned at last, making it clear. "Welcome aboard, Cynthia. One round trip it is, dear. Good news for the lot of ya? She knows 'er way 'round a kitchen."
"But I thought-"
"Marcus." Zed's hand laid gently on the steely shoulder, the beak of his mask turned towards the engineer. "Nobody's said it, because we care. But your cooking is a crime against natural law."
"Oh..." A slump, a sigh. "Well, I liked it." A hopeful smile towards Cynthia then. "Maybe you'll show me a thing or two, love?"
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Not even Czarina knew why she was eager to put her sister on the Haypenny The easiest explanation was that a short trip should take all the adventure and mystery out of the zee. Cynthia would realize just how dangerous the zee was and once they came back to London, the blonde would run from the docks and never even think about returning. Shed go back to the clean streets and large mansions, settle down with a doctor or a lawyer, and spend a happy life growing old and fat. That was why Czarina sacrificed so much She just needed to knock sense into Cynthias head.
Said blonde just beamed, though, when Charles announced that he would take her on for one trip as a cook. Oh thank you! You wont regret it! She grasped his hand and gave it a firm shake. Ruby, meanwhile, stood there slackjawed. As happy as she was that Marcus would no longer be on the stove, were they serious about bringing on the frilly blonde? Czarina shot her a glare before she could say anything and Ruby knew that the first officer had made a special deal with Charles on her sisters behalf.
Cynthia, however, was still beaming. She turned to Marcus and gave him a sympathetic smile. Of course Ill teach you. Were going to be shipmates!
It was all Czarina and Ruby could do to keep from gagging.
human
"The zee makes a tough life. A good life, though. A well-lived life. Which is good! I mean, statistically, you're not in for a long life out there. Best it be short and interesting, right?" - "Mr. Zed", the year of Her Majesty 1887, on life at zee
Captain Thurston could have had all the years of his life and then some to ponder the reasons for Czarina's insistence on this, and he'd not figure out just why on earth she'd subject someone she clearly cared about to the terrors of the zee."Hope you bloody well know what you're doin',"he thought bitterly,"'Cause I certainly don't."A handshake later, and the blonde's fate was sealed. "Welcome aboard, dear. Here's hopin' we don't make you regret it." In all likelihood, she'd regret it quite thoroughly. He cast a look towards the others, one that didn't brook argument. It was time they had someone who knew a thing or two about cooking in this operation. "If yer on the crew, then yer drinkin' with us tonight. Cap'n's orders. Enough dawdlin'... let's get to our pints."
Onto the Empty Cask with them, then. The quintessential harborside retreat, where laughter was boisterous, drinks flowed, and secrets were swapped in whispers. Zailors of all stripes filled the smoky space, ranging from fresh-faced youths who didn't yet know better to grizzled, hollow-eyed veterans hoping to drink away the memories that kept them cold at night. Echoes were plunked down on a shared table, drinks ordered all 'round. A mug of sour ale for the captain, a dark stout for the tin man, and a rummy drink that smelled as though it could be used for engine fuel for the good doctor.
"To shore," said the captain, raising his mug. "May it always be in sight." Murmured agreements, quaffs. Warmth, good company, gentle lights. They'd made it.
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The Empty Cask Czarina led the women inside behind the men, swatting wandering hands away from her naive sisters backside. Cynthia sat down at the table in a flurry of skirts and sweet smelling perfume, and more than a few eyes in the tavern were locked onto her while the other patrons tried to figure out why she was there. Ruby put both Marcus and Zed between her and the blonde, a permanent sneer on her lip. Czarina might have been able to convince the captain to allow her sister on board, but Ruby knew better: Cynthia belonged in London amongst soft lights and soft voices, not on the dark and terrible zee.
To shore, Czarina raised her amber beer before taking a swallow. Ruby sat quietly with her ale and young Cynthia had, surprisingly, what could only be the one wine glass in the entire joint filled with a beautiful fifteen year old white. She sipped the almost clear liquid through her red painted lips, still exuding prim and properness even in a zailors old haunt.
So Captn, when we gettin paid? The gunner leaned over the table, her cigarette hanging from her lips. Im down to my last smoke.
human
"Coin's the lifeblood of any zailor. Really, the resemblance is uncanny. Run out of either, and you'll not be making it home in one piece." - "Mr. Zed", the year of Her Majesty 1888, on the subject of capitalism
Marcus settled in at Ruby's side, while Zed found himself beside Cynthia. The demon doctor reluctantly plucked the mask off of his face, setting the horrific bird-esque thing down on the table. No sense drinking with it on. Immediately he made a face, scowling down at his liquor for a moment before letting it pass. The cost of drinking would be the stench of London, then. With his pale flesh, orange eyes lit with an inner orange blaze and a sinfully handsome face, Zed cut a fine figure when he wasn't hiding it all away. With the toast out of the way, he was free to enjoy the drink. A drink, and a peek down the naive young woman's blouse. Lovely.
Once Ruby started in on the subject of payment, Marcus snickered. "Aye, cap," he agreed, leaning in with her. Without a word, he plucked the cigarette from Ruby's mouth and took a short drag on it. "And I've been out for three bleedin' weeks." A gout of smoke was unleashed into the air overhead, the engineer relishing the cancerous burn before offering it back to its proper owner. "Lord knows I love the Haypenny more 'n I oughtta, but I do love my coin, too."
Charles held out a hand, silencing the discussion as he downed a mouthful of ale. "Wot, you don't think yer gettin' paid? Come off it." From his coat was fetched a long-stemmed pipe and a small leather sack. The bowl was filled, the herb was ground up, and a candle was snatched from the table to give it a light. "Thirty echoes outta my own pocket fer each of ya. And a percentage of what we make on th' linens an' wine on top o' that. More 'n enough to whet yer vices."
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Rubys brow furrowed as Marcus took her cigarette, but those luscious lips of hers curled into a sly smile while she watched him take a deep drag from the poisonous stick. He gave it back after that one puff, and Rubys tongue curled around the filter, tasting the briefest hint of the tin man on her taste buds. He was a combination of zee water and sulfur, and Marcus reminded her of the Iron Republic Or maybe Mount Palmerson. She barely registered that Charles was answering her question about their pay over the intense stare she gave the engineer.
Czarina was also staring. At Zed. She shot him a nasty look when she caught him ogling at her sisters bosom, but she wouldnt risk letting Cynthia catch on and resigned herself to simply glare at him and plot his demise. The devil could always slip and fall overboard It happened all the time. Then Charles caught her attention. Only thirty? She pressed her lips into a thin line, taking another swallow from her drink. Even with the added sales percentage, thats still pretty damn weak Charles.
Little blonde Cynthia was currently looking at all her new shipmates, completely unconcerned with the conversation and oblivious to the fact that the good doctor was leering at her chest like a man out at zee leered at the sight of land and the promise of shore leave. They were a fine looking crew And she couldnt believe that she got to count herself among their ranks.
human
"Last man what called me a cheat was left to do the budget on his own for the next trip. Went bloody mad, he did. Granted, that could've been something else. Lots of ways to lose yourself on the zee." - Captain Charles Thurston, the year of Her Majesty 1886, on the subject of honesty
With a wink and a grin, Ruby's cigarette was returned safe and sound. A nip of tobacco was the second sweetest thing he'd tasted on it; The first was her lips. Just a hint of spice and liquor, zee salt and gunpowder. While her attentions turned on him, the Tin Man gave her a lurid wiggle of his brow. It was far from the first time he'd propositioned her, nor would it be the last. While the captain spoke of wages and a little bonus on top, his eyes were only for the gunner. Well, eye and lens... Mr. Caruthers was a strange sort indeed.
Zed's ogling went undisturbed, and after a good look at what the blonde had on offer - there was indeed a great deal to enjoy - he returned to his damn near flammable drink. Might be that she was on her way to being propositioned by the devil. He did so love a little naivety. His attention turned back to the captain and his first officer, discussing a rather thorny subject indeed: Wages.
Charles' face hardened that little extra bit, a grim look that suited the streaks of gray in his short beard. "Hmph. If I didn't know better, I'd say yer callin' me a cheat, dearie." An irritated click of teeth on the stem of his pipe was the only break in the sudden silence, a few rings of smoke chuffing up into the air overhead. "Thirty fer officers, fifteen fer crew. That's a bump fer ev'ryone, on account o' our clay boys. Two an' a half percent on sales fer officers, one fer crew. Extra fer everyone, again, on account o' clay boys. Now, I'm seein' about five hundred an' twenty come in, once all our buyers come 'round... roundin' up, I'm handin' over three hundred an' sixty two echoes to th' crew. After that," then came the list. A list in which every point was marked with a chop of his hand. "We got supplies, fuel - thank Christ fer Palmerston, so's we can get in on th' cheap - repairs, tonight's goddamn drinkin' budget that I'm payin' for, thank you very much. Nevermind that I'm gonna hafta pay yer sister fer cookin' next time 'round. Stop me when you get the picture here, luv."
A long drink of ale was what finally stopped him. "Ain't all doom and gloom, o' course... Admiralty's likely to help out, once I take up our reports. Now, if ya'd like to help me balance th' damned budget next time, might be you'll think twice 'fore callin' me a cheat."
Dead. Silence.
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Ruby saw her night improving dramatically. Marcus was a handsome fellow, even if he was half tin man. He wasnt metal where it counted. Very much still flesh and blood. They had a few trysts before, mostly on shore though there was the time they did it right beside the boiler inside the engine room. She still had a little scar on her hip from where shed bumped against the hot steel and burned the shit out of herself. No regrets though.
But the ride up came to a screeching halt when the captain began to rip into Czarina. Captain was right It wasnt all doom and gloom. The redhead looked like she was red hot.
She didnt say a word. The entire time he made his argument, his calculations and his lists She took it. Lips pressed together in a thin line, the redhead resembled a bomb that was about to explode. A bomb with a long enough fuse to let Charles finish up and the deadly silence consume the table before she suddenly stood up. The legs of the chair scraped against the floor before it clattered to the ground. Now half the bar was looking at their table. Czarina scowled.
Keep it. Consider it my early termination fee. The cigarette fell out of Rubys mouth. Cynthia glanced around the table, a chill rolling up her spine. She had never seen Czarina so angry. The redhead leaned down really low, her bosom nearly falling out of the corset she wore, her lips pressed against Charles ear. I never called you a cheat Butfuck youfor saying I would.
Czarina turned on her heel and started to march out of the bar, pushing past anyone stupid enough to be in her way. Cynthias mouth hung open until her sisters voice shot through the bar once more. Cynthia! Come on The blonde slowly stood up, looking back at the crew.
I Im sorry It was lovely meeting you all. The younger sister scurried after the elder, and both stepped out of the bar without another word. Cynthia watched as Czarina undid her hair, the coppery locks tumbling down her shoulders. Then she saw her sister raise a hand to her face and Cynthia swore she saw Czarina wipe away a tear.
Czar-
Shut it. Czarina took off down the street, heading deeper into London, and it was all Cynthia could do to keep up in her skirts and heels.
human
"I've seen things. Things that'd turn your blood to ice. Things that'd rob you of your mind, of your very soul, things that even if you did survive and escape, you'd rue every day of the rest of your life. Things that simply should not be. Now, let me tell you... of all those things? Every one of them? The most terrifying of all has to be Czarina when she's upset." - Marcus "Tin Man" Caruthers, the year of Her Majesty 1887, on the horrors of the zee
If there was one thing Charles hated, it was being questioned on his payments. He prided himself on working long and hard to provide as much as he could to his crew. They were his most valuable assets. Without them, the Haypenny didn't sail, and if the Haypenny didn't sail, then he was finished. Ruined. So, when proposing what he thought was a fine sum, only to have it thrown back in his face, he'd thrown right back. The ball was hers now, and she chose to pack it up and go home with it. It was no easy thing to balance the ship's budget on his own, and he'd spat just a slice of that information in her face. Their line of work necessitated a certain amount of shadow budget, a deep well of funds that could be dipped into to secure passage, to pay off guards, to ward off suspicions, to do... any number of things. Every man and woman aboard knew damned well that their business was half-legitimate at best. Yet, even with all of the financial obligations hanging over his head, he managed. Voyage after voyage, he managed.
Until now, apparently.
Up she went, with Cynthia in her wake. Christ in the clouds and Salt in the sea, the woman had lost her patience. She left the table silent - though Zed got a peek of the redhead's scandalous amount of cleavage - and for a moment, it was all the captain could do to lift his mug and drink... and drink he did. With the ale drained, he slammed the empty pint on the table. "Ahh... damn her. Damn her right to Hell." With little more than a flash of his coat, a satchel was dropped on the table. Echoes. "Keep drinkin'. I'm gonna talk to 'er. Gods damn her, she knows how much I need 'er. Makin' a bloody scene, goin' off..." Captain Thurston's voice trailed off as he delved into grumbling, stalking out onto the streets. At least he knew where his first officer lived. That'd make this easier.
Meanwhile, while Marcus ordered himself a second cup of mead and patted Ruby's thigh beneath the table, Zed breathed a long, troubled sigh. "And off they go. I believe... I've just been cock blocked." The demon drummed his fingers in irritation on the table, knocking back another mouthful of foul liquor. "Plenty of fish in the zee, aye, but I rather fancied our short-lived cookwench... foolish as she might've been."
"Aw, now. Cap'n'll have 'er back, mate. Don't you worry 'bout all that. 'Course, he might not come back 'imself, knowing Czarry..." Only then did he notice the dropped cigarette that was making a wee black mark on the table. Plucking it up and placing it 'tween his lips, he smiled cheerily. "Mm, now. Waste not want not, luv. Finders keepers, 'n' all that..."
gpt
Ruby cocked one of her brows at the sight of her smoke now possessed by a new owner. Zed was busy pouting over the fact that he wouldnt get the pretty little blonde in his bed, but he was right. Plenty of fish in the zee. Except that Ruby was not one of those fish. She prefered her men non demonic.
Come on, she slowly stood from the table, beckoning Marcus with her finger. She was headed to the dark hallway in the back of the bar that led to the bathrooms. It was dark enough that no one would care if they borrowed a section of the wall for a quick hump. Zed would find something to keep himself busy.
Cynthia and Czarina were well on their way home. They had a lead on Charles even though they didnt know that he was coming after the particularly pissed first officer. Her flat was not far from the docks, nestled between some shipping businesses. Shed sent Cynthia to a much better part of London, but her sister still had a key to the small living space. It was a single room with a lavatory and shower in a tiny closet nestled in a corner. No kitchen, no stove. Just a bed and a boudoir, a lamp with a red light that shined up at the ceiling.
Czarina kicked off her boots and started to undo her corset. The blonde just stood in the middle of the room, looking awkward. Czar Are you okay?
Never better.
You You dont seem okay.
Im fine Cynthia.
But-
Drop it. Go home. Im tired.
Are you sure?
Yeah
Cynthia hesitated but then left the flat, closing the door behind her before she headed down the stairs. She had some echoes in her coin purse; she could hire a carriage to take her back to her foster home. She was standing on the street, waiting for one to pass by, when she looked up and saw the grizzled zee captain headed her way. Shes pretty angry I dont think she really wants to talk tonight.
human
"She's got this little burn on her hip. Got a little randy near the boiler, see? Left this mark. I'm not saying we're exclusive... but, my boiler, my brand, eh?" - Marcus "Tin Man" Caruthers, the year of Her Majesty 1886, on fraternization
Zed had tried plenty of times to get into the gunner's trousers, to no avail. Girl might not know her letters, but she was smart enough not to bed down with a demon. Granted, he'd long since proven that he wasn't the sort to try and steal her soul through a good bit of carnal fun, but that hadn't swayed her. Besides... she had a thing for men that were partly built of steel, it seemed. There was no jealousy in him, of course, he'd long since given up trying to talk his way betwixt her thighs, and there were plenty of others with lower standards. The only thing now, as gunner and engineer walked off together, and the captain tore off after the others... "Well, bollocks," he mused. "'Tis a poor soul who drinks alone. Ah, well..."
Marcus, of course, took no convincing at all. Really, the moment she'd called, he'd been on his feet, tapping the ashes of their shared treat on the table before following after her. It wasn't even far that they went. Not even a bloody room. "Hopin' to be tonight's entertainment, eh?" A mischievous little cackle left him, and his hands found their way to her hips. She was urged in close, his lips seeking out hers, eager for a proper taste of what he'd sampled on her smoke. What better way to celebrate an intact return to shore than with a bit of exhibitionism?
It was Charles' night that was on its way from bad to worse. He stalked towards Cynthia on the street corner, glad to see that he at least remembered where he was headed. A warning, eh? Captain Thurston breathed a sigh, whipping his hat off of his head as he started towards the door. "'Course she doesn't. But she will. Might be I'll need patchin' up 'fore it's over, but we've got words. Don't you go runnin' off just yet, neither... I plan on havin' my crew restore 'fore bedtime."
With that, Czarina would hear a heavy series of knocks on her door. The captain had come calling.
gpt
Ruby found herself pressed close to Marcus, his mouth on her and his tongue down her throat before she even had a chance to breathe a breath. She groaned softly, her arms rising up and looping around his shoulders. One of her knees wedged itself between his legs and she rubbed against the hardening bulge in his pants. Youre all the entertainment I need tonight She nipped his lip, caressing every part of him she could reach, including the metal pieces. Besides, if Captn cant get Czarina back, were gonna be stuck on shore for a while Might as well get started for a long haul. Charles reputation did the opposite of bringing skilled crew to the ship; it chased them away.
Cynthia watched as the captain knocked on her sisters door. It took several hard pounds before the redhead answered, but when she did, she wore a deep scowl. Her eyes flicked over to Cynthia. Go home Cynthia.
Im just waiting for a carriage
Start walking.
Czarina glared until her sister started to walk up the street, occasionally looking back at the two of them as if she would be called to return. Once she was certain that Cynthia was out of earshot, she turned to Charles. What the hell do you want? You already humiliated me at the Empty Cask!
human
"Sometimes that's all there is for it, really. One side shouts, the other side shouts louder, and all you can do is make the most noise until someone stops." - Captain Charles Thurston, the year of Her Majesty 1885, on the subject of conflict resolution
Marcus' grip was surprisingly tender, considering one hand was composed of steel and had little in the way of feeling that wasn't just some strange, arcane sensation. The kiss was a steamy thing for all its sweetness, an embrace that warmed him to his core. "Mm, now... just what I was hopin' to hear," he purred. An attempt to speak up again was momentarily stymied by a lovely little bite to his lip, and then he continued. "No good worryin' 'bout Czarina. 'Sides... who else'd put up with 'er? Girl belongs on the zee much as th' rest of us." His hands found their way to her rear, giving her a squeeze as he got good and hard against her highly insistent knee. "Wouldn't say no to some shore leave while we wait on that, though... still got m' old flat down Baker's Way." A grin formed against her mouth, both hands slipping down into and past the waist of her trousers. "You, me, crate o' smokes an' all the liquor we can grab..."
It felt like time stood still, waiting there on the stoop outside Czarina's flat. The woman's temper was legend, bordering on becoming one of the horrors of the zee that were spoken of only in terrified whispers. However, Charles could work himself up almost as well. It was the only way to go against Czarina. Head to head until silent or dead, he'd joked once. Only once. Finally, the door opened up, and there she stood. His face was stern, his hat in his hand while she chased the blonde away. Then came his turn. "Ya know well as I do yer not goin' nowhere. Ya got nowhere to go. An' I got nothin' without ya." He cleared his throat then, his frown deepening. "Ya challenged me on m' budget. Right infront of all of 'em! I laid it out for ya. Might be I did it louder than I oughtta, but God help me if that ain' a sore spot. If ya think I'm not payin' you lot enough, you find th' money."
gpt
The gunner was nodding her head along to Marcus suggestion. She couldnt believe he rented that little flat Ruby usually found herself sleeping on someones floor, or when she fancied it, their bed. His place was not terrible huge or fancy, but it was comfortable and warm and it smelled like him. You buy the smokes and the liquor, and Ill follow you anywhere you go, love
Czarina snorted. I did not challenge you! You assumed thats what I was doing! And as usual, you got it wrong you ass. She stepped back from the door, leaving it open. Hed just beat on it again if she closed it in his face and then hed wake the neighbors up. Better to leave it open and fight in the flat. At least then, if the neighbors raised a fuss, she could tell them to piss off and have some damn justification. All I was saying is that we ought to start picking up more lucrative business! I was trying to help you. Were better than thirty echoes! Youre better than thirty echoes! She stood in front of her bed, arms crossed over her chest. If I wanted to insult you, Id kick you in the balls you bloody sod! Youre a damn fine captain and you know it. So just shut up already and pour me a drink. The fight was over. Shed shouted her piece and now turned to collapse onto the small stool in front of her vanity. Czarina started to pull bobby pins from her hair, slamming them down against the wooden dresser.
human
"Make all the noise you want, love. No neighbors to speak of. 'Course, that might have to do with the fact we're wedged between a factory and shipping yard." - Marcus "Tin Man" Caruthers, the year of Her Majesty 1887, wooing Ms. Ruby
It was a sweet little moment, despite the dinginess of the tavern and the fact that they were about to rut in some half-lit hallway. His hands were in her pants and cupped on her rear, forehead dipping to rest against her own as he swayed gently with her in his arms. They were safe now, free from the terrors of the zee, free to indulge in one another for a time. His shaft grew stiff against her knee and thigh as she rubbed him, his face split in a wide grin. "We'll just hafta make sure we stop an' get smokes on the way back... maybe snag us a bottle from th' barkeep." Just then, though, his interest was on the here and now, not the twenty minutes from now when they were staggering back towards his flat. His lips sought hers out once more, locking her in a deep, lust-laden kiss as his hands worked to skim down her bottoms 'round her thighs, her panties soon following.
"If you weren't tryin' ta challenge me," Charles snapped back, "might be ya woulda kept such talk inprivate, rather than draggin' it up in front'a th' whole bleedin' crew!" He was in a huff, yes, but the fight was reaching a definite peak. "Ya know damned well what 'more lucrative' means, don'tcha? We're gonna hafta get our hands dirty. Not that we ain't done it before, but..." He smirked slightly, shaking his head. "I was gettin' to like the peacefulness of all this legitimate business." Finally, however, it seemed their fight was at an end. He trudged in through the doorway, sighing as he readied one glass and then another, filling them with the stiffest drink she had on offer before handing one off to her. "Best tell yer sister at some point... poor girl's out there lookin' like a lost pup."
gpt
They should have pulled apart and headed towards the bar and then the door. Should have. But the engineer and the gunner were still locked in a fierce kiss, using the angle of the hallway to keep prying eyes off of them. Ruby was quickly losing her concern over anyone being able to watch them. She wasnt a fan of exhibitionism but the situation demanded that she surrender herself here and now; if not in the bar, then in some ally on their way back to the flat. So while he pulled down her pants and panties, she moaned hotly in his ear, clutching his shoulders tightly. Mmmhmm Mr. Caruthers, Im gonna have to ask you to start my engine. Think you can do that?
Czarina almost snapped back at the captain but swallowed her anger with a good gulp of hard liquor. It burned her throat on the way down, providing the perfect distraction so she could cool her heels for a second. No. Let her go home. Its just for the night. Shell be back in the morning. She eyed Charles, her hair resting on her shoulders and back. The front of her corset was half undone, her heels already off. Get undressed. If you think youre just gonna come in here and yell at me without saying youre sorry, then youre more of a lackwit than I thought.
human
"There's stormy zee waters, and then there's a night with Czarina. Both are exciting, good for getting the blood pumping. Both'll leave a man unsure which way his head's screwed on." - Captain Charles Thurston, the year of Her Majesty 1887, on the subject of fraternization
They were already in it now. It wouldn't do much good to stop things now just for the sake of such little things as "decency" and "good taste". They could have a little fun here, button up, then head to his flat to get properly filthy. "Aw, love... that's my job, innit?" A grin crossed the Tin Man's face, lips locking with hers once more and tongue seeking hers out. His shaft stiffened against the insistent knee she'd pressed between his thighs, and she'd feel the fleshier of his two hands slipping down her front. A pair of fingers found their way inside of her, pistoning steadily in an effort to get her good and ready for him.
Liquor was the cure for their woes, then. Charles knocked back another deep mouthful, keeping his grumbles to himself. "Good. I'd hate ta lose a cook over all this nonsense. No sense punishin' all of us by puttin' Mister Caruthers back at the stovetop." He swirled his liquor in his glass before downing the rest of it, just about to consider getting to his feet and leaving her for the evening. Best to let her cool off for a night, get her senses. Which was why her sudden demands were a surprise indeed. "Undressed, eh? That all it'll take ta smooth this over, then?" The captain shrugged off his jacket, a smirk on his bearded face. "C'mere. Time we made up proper."
gpt
Marcus never kept her waiting for long. He already knew where to find her ignition switch and his fingers curled against the walls of her sex, stroking and rubbing her, awakening her arousal. Ruby groaned, riding his fingers while she supported herself up on her tip toes. A shadow moved behind his back and she realized that it was someone making their way to the head; they gave the pair a glance over their shoulder and maybe they smirked, but Ruby was far too focused on what her lover was doing to her to care about anyone watching them. Hurry I need you Mr. Caruthers. You got her started Time to work her.
Czarina was finishing up the task of pulling out her bobby pins while Charles took off his jacket. It was an old thing, but it was well made and kept the chill of the zee off his bones. Shed spent many a night pressed to his chest, the jacket loosely wrapped around her, keeping her close. She snorted and finished off her drink about the same time that the last bobby pin was set aside. She stood up and slowly sashayed across the room, her hips swaying with every step and her barely contained breasts jiggling softly under the loosened confines of her corset. How do you intend to make it up to me you old sod?
human
"Fight like a married couple, fuck like teenagers. That about sums it up." - Captain Charles Thurston, the year of Her Majesty 1886, on his relations with his first officer
Marcus couldn't be arsed with any onlookers. If any thought they might do more than look, they'd have him to deal with, and that wasn't a fight anyone was about to win. His only response to the footsteps behind them was to work her a little more, fingers diving that little bit deeper and stroking just a tad more, his steely hand pressing greedily into the bare, delightfully round curve of her rear. She asked for more, and he was all too happy to give. Once their watcher made the return trip from his piss, he'd find that Mr. Caruthers had opened up his trousers, freed his prick, and slipped it up inside of Ruby, hands on her ass as he took her right against the wall.
Charles shed the admiralty jacket and dropped his flat hat on top of it, working his way out of waistcoat and suspenders before shedding his shirt. A hard, flat chest awaited her, covered in thick curls of black hair that had yet to start graying. "Old? Don't ya start throwin' that one 'round, now. An' if Iamold..." He looked her up and down, watching every step of that "fuck me" walk. "Reckon I'm doin' damned good fer m'self." Hands set to work on the corset, eagerly working it off of her. "That's a fine question, though. Thought I might give ya a lick."
gpt
The wall was rough and uneven, worn perhaps from others who took advantage of the dark hallway for their own brand of fun. Rubys toes curled inside her boots when she felt the head of Marcus cock press against her. She clutched at the back of his shirt, rolling her hips into his thrusts. Hands of metal and flesh held and tugged on her backside, making sure she was at the right angle so that the engineer did not fall out. Marcus Rubys breathless sigh was right in his ear, her tongue tasting the salt on his skin while the rest of her held on for dear life.
The corset that Czarina wore was not for the faint of heart, made of real bone and silk, it was tough and the laces were thin, tied really tight to keep her figure perfect. But Charles had plenty of practice undoing them. Her fingers ran through the forest on his chest while she stood there, waiting for him to finish loosening the damn thing so that they could get it out of the way. A lick? I only get one? She played with the small hairs on the nape of his neck as he looped her arms around his shoulders. Youre a tease.
human
"Being on a ship at zee necessitates all sorts of creativity. Not that anyone's really surprised to catch us in the act anymore. Short version is, you walk into a room on the Haypenny, Ruby and I were there first. There was one time, we rigged up the diving bell..." - Marcus "Tin Man" Caruthers, the year of Her Majesty 1885, on the subject of creativity.
It wasn't the ideal place to grab a quick shag. However, they'd made use of far worse than a dark, grubby hallway in the back of a pub. This place might as well have been a cozy little bed and breakfast with silk sheets and a fully stocked bar, compared to some of the strange places they'd defiled on the ship. The angle was a touch awkward, but that didn't stop him from spearing her on the end of his cock and taking her for a ride. His body rocked against hers, every thrust producing a nice, satisfied thump on the uneven boards of the wall like the beat of some tribal drum. "Mmmm... lovely place for a screw," he growled against her cheek, planting kisses along the side of her face as he took her. "You get loud enough, we might be the night's entertainment..."
Czarina took corsetry quite seriously indeed. However, Charles took her body just as seriously, and had since learned the ins and outs of those highly complicated garments that gave her such a lovely shape. As his favorite bits of her bounced free of it, he was more than happy to let her in good and close, letting his chest and forehead rest against her as his arms looped their way around her waist, pulling her good and close. Doubtless she'd feel the beginnings of an erection pressed against her as well. The fight was over, it was time to kiss and make up. "S'pose more could be arranged... ya know I can't bloody well say no t' you."
gpt
Just lovely, the gunner parroted, breathless and gasping upon every sharp thrust Marcus gave her. Aye, he was a good man. Plenty of love he had to offer And he was happy to give it to her. The gent that passed them on his way to the toilets emerged, took a second to register that the tin man and his woman were fucking against the wall, then walked right on by a second time, though his gaze did linger on Rubys bare thighs as if he was hoping to catch a peek of what lay between them. No That was for Marcus eyes only tonight.
The corset dropped to the floor in no time thanks to Charles many hours of practice. He hadnt yet been able to take Czarina without her bountiful breasts being exposed, not that the redhead minded. He paid special attention to them, which made up for the fact that she was often scurrying to get back into the same corset minutes later. No, you cant. She leaned up and kissed him, head tilted ever so slightly to the side so that she avoided smashing her nose into his. Just like I cant leave your crew She hadnt even said she was coming back officially yet, but he already knew the answer. Maybe it was a slightly toxic relationship full of shouting and cursing, but it worked for them. Czarina rubbed her breasts against the captains chest, grinning through the kiss. Youre a smelly old salt but youre my smelly old salt.
Meanwhile Cynthia was walking back and forth down the street. Czarina told her to go home. The captain told her to stay. Considering she had heard any gunshots and that the captain hadnt come flying out of Czarinas window, she figured he must have still been alive, but making up with her sister could take anywhere from minutes to hours How long would they make her wait?
She sighed and leaned against a lamppost, staring down the street And she saw a vaguely familiar figure walking towards her.
human
"Human women confound me, admittedly. Met a lass in the Khanate with a fascination for strange, erotic penny dreadfuls. Thought I'd shift my arm to be something like the zee-creature she was fancying, and she looked at me like she might be sick. Ridiculous creatures, women." - "Mr. Zed", the year of Her Majesty 1884, on the subject of women
If the looky-loo on his way out of the pisser thought to have words with them, Marcus would've given him a real taste of iron. Looking was fine. Trying to get involved? Trying to interrupt him? That was a bloody dangerous proposition. They were left undisturbed, much to his delight. Fingers clasped tight and greedy on her rump, strong arms giving all the support she'd ever need as he gave her a good humping, his breaths playing in warm, groaning purrs against her skin. Tonight was a night for them. After so long at sea, they could spend a proper night together, without clothes and with plenty of drink.
With the lovely rewards that waited beneath, it was no wonder the good Captain become such a master of relieving Czarina of her maddening garment. She was deliciously warm and soft against him, every inch of Charles simply melting against her. Many nights at zee they'd kept one another warm, clinging tight to one another as the ship chugged along through the abyss. Her lips pressed hot and sweet to his own, dragging a contented sigh out of him as he let his hands rove over her back. God help him, but she knew how to make a man feel at ease. The earlier unpleasantness might as well have never happened now. "Mm, love... ya know just what t' say." A wet, loving kiss was her reward, while he walked her over towards the bed. "C'mon. Not ev'ry night we get solid ground to make it on."
Doctor Zed, as it happened, had grown bored of drinking by his lonesome. It was the reason he'd taken to the streets once more, the human-stinking streets of London that prompted him to don his plague doctor's mask once more. His fearsome beaked visage was seen strolling down the roads alongside the docks. It was a beautiful thing, being on flat land while the zee sloshed gently at the bricks below. From what he'd heard of the surface, the waters up there were always in motion. The zee, in all its inky blackness, rarely stirred unless something foul was afoot down below.
Even he, as a demon, shuddered to consider it.
He was in the midst of a half-decent shuddering when something caught his eye. A bright head of blonde hair attached to a familiar and quite lovely head, leaning up against a lamppost and looking squarely in his direction. "Hullo," he called simply with a wave of his hand, the damnable mask muffling his voice. Sighing, he supposed it was time he embraced the stink of London. Lifting it so that it rested atop his head, the beak pointed at an amusing upward angle, he flashed her a smile. "Hullo," he said again. "Cynthia, right? Don't suppose you've heard if I'll have a crew to go back to tomorrow, eh?" But of course he did, he knew. Charles and Czarina rarely stayed mad for long.
gpt
Ruby shuddered and quaked, her toes curled against Marcus sides. She held on for dear life and gave him plenty of encouragement, but she was slowly losing her mind. Her cries grew louder until she couldnt take it anymore, and she clutched Marcus shoulder tightly as he sex clamped down on his hard cock still steadily pumping in and out of her dripping cunt. Finish inside me, she purred sweetly, aching to feel the rush of warmth within her.
As she was steered towards the bed, Czarina continued to rub herself against the captain, the feel of his body hair against her smooth skin tickling her senses. She sat down and leaned back on the mattress once they were there, pulling him down on top of her. Youre right. Czarina nibbled on his bottom lip and chin, drawing lazy, lewd patterns on his back. We should take advantage, her legs parted and wrapped around his waist, letting his pelvis drop into the valley created between them. Of the situation
Back downstairs, Cynthia was smiling as the doctor walked further into the lamplight. Doctor Zed A please to see you again. She glanced up at her sisters flat when he asked about the crew and her smile was replaced with a wry grin. Aye I think so. Theyve been up there for nearly ten minutes and I havent heard a peep.
She pushed off the lamppost. But I dont think theyll be coming out any time soon I think the captain has a lot of making up to do. Cynthia sighed and looked around. No carriages in sight She really did not want to walk home alone but then again, the good doctor was with her now.
Would you be kind enough to walk me home, doctor? She gave him another smile. Or perhaps we can walk the city? Its so beautiful at night.