Nothin' Comes Close (Elloria)

[phrostphyre]

They said that drunkeness was a sin against the gods and that drunks were fools, criminals, and evil. While undoubtedly a drunk, on bad days, and certainly a criminal, and sometimes a fool, Alasdair wondered if he was truly evil. Sometimes it kept him up, worrying about his soul and the prospects the after life held for it, but then a drink helped him get back to sleep.

But a bit before sundown while his ship was in port, Alasdair had received word that the Count Genji, his most of the time employer, wished to sail with him, an inspection cruise. While at most times this would be no cause for alarm, Alasdair simply shrugging it off, this particular time was necessarily....hairy, for lack of a better word. The Itasan fleet was months away, but what made it hairy was the fact that this year, Alasdair didn't know if the navy of the Latins would be escorting their treasure fleet. Alasdair made it an annual tradition to pick out one or two ships from the treasure fleet. Last year, there had been a token force of naval ships to guard it. He'd only picked off one.

All that, when put together, meant that Alasdair didn't know if this year's annual easy prey would be as easy as it had been, and he had been hoping to show Genji an easy win. That would have been a feather in his cap, a feather in the ship's, and possibly legal employment for the rest of his crew. Sighing, Alasdair looked at the hour keeping candle on the dresser in his cabin. Four bottles of whiskey, two empty, sat on the table in front of him as the ship rocked gently in port. Twelve or thirteen hours from now, Genji'd be on the ship and in Alasdair's cabin. The ship's two cats and one dumb lad were probably going to be kicked overboard to make room for the extra people on board.

A single shot glass sat on the table, unused, accusing Alasdair of being a sot. Silently telling it to shove off, he had better things to do than use a glass, like get drunk, he took another pull from the third bottle. And then it hit him. Genji was a smart bastard. He'd know Alasdair would be worrying, and so he'd be planning something. Either to show up early and find Alasdair with a hangover, or late, and find the ship still in port and Alasdair with a hangover. Either way, Alasdair MacKenzie lost, and he didn't like losing. Corking the bottle, he stood and sauntered his way onto deck, where he stood in the breeze, shivering slightly.

The crew glanced askance at him, as if he were wearing breeches or shirtless. Glancing at the gangplank, Alasdair nearly had a heart attack. There stood Genji, staring at him. Looking down at himself, Alasdair felt his heart skip a beat. He wasn't wearing breeches, but nor was he wearing his kilt. He was completely naked, save for a white shirt that barely covered him. Heat suffusing his face, Alasdair turned slowly, walked back into his cabin, and belted his kilt around his waist. Sword and dirk went next, and then he took a fortifying sip from the open whiskey bottle. One thought kept running through his mind: Genji's going to be pissed. I'm royally boned.

[Elloria]

(OOC: When you come to moroha, the link takes you to the tanto page of Wikipedia. Scroll down to blade types and find moroha for a brief description.)

Genji stood up from the small desk in his room, where he had sat hunched for the past several minutes as he wrote a message for his four bodyguards. He moved over to his bed, unstrapped Hinote and Seisui from his body, set them down carefully on his nightstand beside a pack he had grabbed from his storage closet earlier, and unceremoniously flopped onto his bed face first with a groan. It had been a rather long day with idiots from all across Teirm and he was too mentally fatigued to even want to bathe just now. He had hardly left the citadel all day in any case, preventing him from working up a huge sweat and therefore a major stench. Plus, he needed to begin pondering his next course of action. It was a little after sundown now and he had just recently returned from the shipyards where he had left a message for his most recent acquisition, pirate extraordinaire Alasdair Dubh. The man had been doing a decent enough job since Genji had hired him following the rather exciting sea battle a few months ago. But there was something about the man that Genji just didn’t like – something a little off. He just couldn’t figure out what. Of course, the man was a pirate and that was reason enough to not like him. Especially when one considered how much damage he had single-handedly caused to Teirm’s trade. The count clenched his fists in the sheets at the thought. It was absolutely outrageous and such a gross oversight, it made him sick.

He relaxed his grip on the sheets and rolled onto his back with a sigh. He needed to keep this Dubh in his place and on his toes…but how? Sure, this sudden inspection cruise was sure to throw the pirate off-balance, but by how much? Genji’s mind kept spinning in useless circles over the matter and it was starting to piss him off. He sat up abruptly and slid off the bed until he was sitting lotus-style on the cold stone floor. Resting his arms on his knees, he started taking in deep breaths and holding them for a four-count before slowly releasing them. With each breath in, he pictured light settling into a core in the pit of his belly – growing and growing until he could no longer keep it contained and then slowly released it with his breath and let it spread throughout his entire body. His body relaxed bit by bit and after ten deep breaths, he was completely at ease and his mind felt unfettered once more. He drifted outside of his body, outside of time, outside of it all until he was floating through what seemed like nothingness. By now, his soul knew this was not quite the case – this was simply the void before the light. He was at peace now and soon the void became black became grey became a rainbow of colors beyond description became blinding white light…faded into the mighty golden dragon that was Yawata no Kami. His soul shook at the splendor of Yawata no Kami and distantly, he knew his body wept with the overwhelming joy. Yawata no Kami slowly stretched its neck and gently touched Genji’s forehead with its smooth, warm snout before retreating. Then the dragon faded into blinding white light into a rainbow of colors into grey into black into the void and soon Genji was back within his own body once more. He bowed his head low and murmured thanks for the tremendous honor of being allowed to see even briefly the majesty of Yawata no Kami.

He languidly stretched his limbs before gracefully pulling himself to his feet. He rubbed his hands over his face to wipe away what remained of his joyous tears, then walked over to the window and looked outside. The moon was low on the western horizon, but the sun had not yet started lightening the day. Genji nodded in satisfaction and, turning from the window, went to work on filling his pack with what he might need on the voyage ahead – a few sets of clothes in varying shades of grey, an oilskin double-layered cloak that could also act as a blanket in a pinch and two Itasan moroha. He briefly debated bringing his small shrine along, but eventually decided against it. There would be no room for it. Instead, he rooted around until he found the scroll with the images of the deities painted on it. Mami had painted it for him as a congratulatory gift for successfully completing the Tong-gwa Uilye. It really was quite beautiful, with the silver and golden forms of Zhayu and Yawata no Kami eternally intertwined above the beautiful Benzaiten and aged Fukurokuju. It would have to serve for his shrine until his return.

Satisfied, he set the pack on his bed and finally stripped away yesterday’s clothes. He moved over to one of his armoires and selected a fresh set of tunic and trousers. This one was a light grey, almost silvery in color, with golden threads sporadically interwoven to make it shimmer slightly in the light. While he would have preferred bathing beforehand, there was little time to waste and his personal odor had not quite reached offensive yet. So instead he pulled on a pair of tabi, then strapped Seisui to his left side and Hinote to his back. He checked that it all sat upon his frame comfortably and hindered neither his movements nor his ability to quickly unsheathe either sword before grabbing the pack off of his bed. Swinging it over the right shoulder opposite where Hinote’s hilt rested, he slipped his feet into a pair of zori and grabbed the note and a letter-opener off of his desk. The sun was not yet peeking over the horizon, but the sky was definitely a lighter blue than when he had checked last. This meant that his guards were likely still sleeping or just barely stirring. This would hopefully be plenty of time to get down to Dubh’s ship and set sail before his guards could wheedle their way into coming along. He just…wished to get away from them for a little while and this inspection was the perfect opportunity. He slipped through his door and, once it was closed, stuck the note to the door with the letter-opener where his guards would immediately find it. They would unnecessarily worry otherwise – more so than they would with the note, in any case. Satisfied, he made his way downstairs and exited the West Wing.

The guards eyed each other, but said nothing as the Count vanished down the corridor. A few moments later, the entrance to the West Wing opened again and Rikuto emerged, sanjiegun in its hip holster. She glanced at the guards, who indicated that Genji had indeed vanished down the corridor just a little bit ago and she pursued. She didn’t catch up to him until he was just exiting the citadel gates. She slipped up beside him and murmured, “I apologize for following you, Kazan-sama. I know your note stated you wished to undertake this inspection alone, but Yawata no Kami came to me in a dream and said you would do so…and that it would be wise if someone accompanied you.” Genji’s hand clenched around the pack, but he said nothing. Though he would have liked to say that she was simply bluffing, the fact that it was Rikuto who had followed him led him to believe there may have been some truth in it. She was always the last of the guards to rise, preferring to stay in her warm bed despite being a light sleeper. Nothing short of divine intervention would have pulled her from her bed before it was absolutely necessary. So instead he sighed, nodded, and continued towards the docks. Hopefully there would be no other interlopers in the meantime.

The trip passed quickly and in silence until they stood at the bottom of the gangplank of the brig Vengeance. The sun had only just cleared the horizon by this point and the day was clear, with a slight breeze ruffling Genji’s long shaggy hair. To his semi-trained eye, the conditions seemed just about ideal to set sail. Taking a deep breath, he walked up the gangplank and froze at the sight that greeted him at the top. Rikuto nearly ran into him, stopping just in time. Unfortunately, she was still able to see what had stopped her lord in his tracks thanks to her considerable height. She snorted in amused contempt. Genji felt his eye twitch as Alasdair glanced first at Genji and then down at himself – finally realizing that he was just barely decent. The crew kept glancing back and forth between the captain and the count, as if wondering how this would play out. Genji’s left hand inched upwards to grasp Hinote’s hilt and thumb it loose from its sheath. A flush crept over Alasdair’s face as he slowly turned and returned to his cabin, presumably to change into more appropriate clothing. Genji stood for a moment as the pirate disappeared into his cabin. Then he took a deep breath, lowered his hand and turned his cold, furious gaze on the rest. In a quiet voice that nonetheless carried across the assembled crew, he said, “In case you have not been informed by your…illustrious captain, I am Count Genji Lantieri and I am accompanying you on this voyage.” He stepped onto the deck and waved Rikuto forward. She joined him on deck, towering over him – and some of the crew – at an imposing six feet six inches tall, the semi-loose tunic and trousers doing little to hide her well-muscled, somewhat masculine body. “This is my guard Rikuto Ishinomori and she will be coming along as well. You do not have to like this. You simply have to accept it.”

Without another glance, he turned and made his way across the deck to the captain’s cabin. He paid little attention to what the pirate crew was doing, for they were of little consequence at the moment. Shock would serve as a deterrent towards action for the moment and that was all he would need for now. Upon reaching the cabin, he quietly knocked on the door. “Dubh,” he called through the door, purposely mispronouncing the pirate’s surname, “I hope you have an exemplary explanation for this.”

[phrostphyre]

Several things ran through Alasdair's mind as he finished the bottle of whiskey he was holding and began hiding the rest. Bastard is damned intelligent. I hope he gets hit in the knee with an arrow. If Genji's here, now, then I can't slip from port early and make for the shipping routes. Genji's here now. So we need to leave this morning as planned. But he's brought his guard, so I can't quietly off him in the night. Still putting his cabin into some semblance of order, Alasdair listened to the Count outside his door. Struggling to find an answer as to why, exactly, he had been for all intents and purposes naked, Alasdair decided he didn't need to explain himself to Genji. The Count simply paid Alasdair not to raid Teirm or Itasan shipping. He didn't pay Alasdair for constantly wearing clothing on his own ship. Alasdair would bluff him, the pirate decided while clubbing his hair back. Brutally yanking it back, and wishing it were Genji, he bound it with a dark green ribbon, and opened the door to his cabin.

Ignoring both Alasdair, the Count, and the Count's guard, the first mate began transferring his things from his cabin to the second mate's cabin, and the second mate did the same to the third. So on and so fourth, until the lowest crewman, a boy of fourteen, would be sleeping in the pile of hay the two cats the ship carried against rats. The only person not to have moved was the quartermaster, in truth, the man that ran the ship. Alasdair simply decided where to go, who to attack, and when to do it. The quartermaster ran everything else, and he did it better than Alasdair had a hope of doing, which is why he didn't move. The quartermaster took charge while his captain was busy doing whatever in his cabin, trying to escape Genji.

”Well, sir, see, as long as she can handle a weapon, and don't eat too much, she's welcome, I reckon. Cap'n hisself wouldn't mind, so long as yews both understand the discipline we keep on ship. Articles of Discipline are as follows, wotcher. One; nobody hides liquor. Two; keep the fightin' at a minimum. Three; Got a problem with anyone or anything, take it to the Cap'n or quartermaster, that'd be meself. See, a happy crew is a good crew. Cap'n Mac don't use the lash, 'less someone's dead, or hurt bad. That's all for now, guv'ner. Thank yews for yer time.”

Alasdair blinked at the light entering his cabin, then nodded to Genji, Rikuto, and the quartermaster. Studiously ignoring Genji as far as that, he turned to his crewmembers, each involved in quite absorbing tasks. Hands clasped behind his back, Alasdair addressed them.

”Carry on, crew. This was expected. I'm sorry about everyone being displaced, but it's only one cruise, not a voyage or a long deployment. The annual Latin gold fleet should be passing by the usual spots at the same time as last year. First mate, chart us a course to the south most point of the island of Illium. Miss Rikuto Ishinomori, a thousand welcomes to my ship. I hope you enjoy your stay. Count Genji Lantieri, a thousand welcomes to you as well, sir. Welcome aboard, sir.”[/color]

Pure professionalism was the rule of the day in Alasdair's voice, but his face bore a welcoming smile, but a slightly bewildered look upon. Hah, bastard! If I don't acknowledge it, you can do nothing!

”An exemplary explanation for what, sir? We're ready to sail, either with the tide, or at your direction, sir.”[/color]

[Elloria]

Genji tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for Dubh to either open the door or answer through it. He ground his teeth, praying to Yawata no Kami for some patience – one of his weaker virtues. He sincerely hoped he would not have to repeat himself. There were few things in the world he found more vexing than having to repeat his requests and demands ad nauseam until he felt like ripping his hair from his skull. His eye twitched in irritation as nothing but frantic scrambling sounds came from the cabin.

“Well, sir, see, as long as she can handle a weapon, and don't eat too much, she's welcome, I reckon.” Genji turned slightly to examine the creature who was daring to speak to him. He had not asked its opinion on things. All it needed to do was to understand the current hierarchy of power, do its job and stay out of Genji’s way. “Cap'n hisself wouldn't mind, so long as yews both understand the discipline we keep on ship. Articles of Discipline are as follows, wotcher. One; nobody hides liquor. Two; keep the fightin' at a minimum. Three; Got a problem with anyone or anything, take it to the Cap'n or quartermaster, that'd be meself. See, a happy crew is a good crew. Cap'n Mac don't use the lash, 'less someone's dead, or hurt bad. That's all for now, guv'ner. Thank yews for yer time.”

Genji could feel his fingers twitching with the need to grasp Hinote and silence the creature’s babbling. But if it really was the ship’s quartermaster, that was not exactly an option. He clenched both fists instead and took a deep, steady breath. Letting it out slowly, he relaxed enough to be able to speak to the quartermaster without losing control of his temper. His face smoothing into an inscrutable mask, he answered the quartermaster in an emotionless monotone. “Unlike your illustrious captain, I have no desire to cloud my wits with alcohol. I have no reason at the moment to fight any of you, but I will respond if provoked – with violence, if necessary. As for your third rule, I have many problems with many things. There is not time enough in the world to deal with them all. If I am not given a reason to, I will not deal with any immediate problems. I will not even deign to give a proper response to your statements about Rikuto.”

Hearing footsteps approaching the cabin door, Genji turned away from the blinking quartermaster and stepped away from the door he had been hovering near. A wise move indeed, as the door swung open and Dubh stepped blinking into the sunlight. After a quick nod, the pirate stepped past Genji and company. Genji’s nose wrinkled. The pirate reeked of alcohol. His teeth started grinding together once more as Alasdair addressed the crew. Some distant part of Genji’s mind understood what the man was saying: The Latin fleet was their target…whatever the Latin fleet was. The rest was wondering how long it would take for the pirate to be anything less than an uncivilized brute. And then Alasdair finally gave the two Itasans a ‘proper’ greeting. “Miss Rikuto Ishinomori, a thousand welcomes to my ship. I hope you enjoy your stay.” Rikuto snorted, but said nothing as the pirate continued. Genji could not blame her for her contempt – she had never been treated like a lady if only because she did not look or act like one, even by Itasan standards. “Count Genji Lantieri, a thousand welcomes to you as well, sir. Welcome aboard, sir.” The man’s face had a welcoming smile upon it as well as something approaching bewilderment. “An exemplary explanation for what, sir? We're ready to sail, either with the tide, or at your direction, sir.”

Silence settled between the two men as Genji glared at the man. The count knew the effect was at least somewhat ruined by the fact that he had to tilt his head back to look into the pirate’s eyes. Still, it satisfied some part of Genji’s pride nonetheless. After a few moments, he closed the gap between them in three strides that were almost too fluid and graceful to be human. While this admittedly exacerbated the foot of height difference, it helped confirm the unmistakable smell of alcohol that lingered on Dubh. Behind him, he heard the tell-tale shift of fabric that indicated Rikuto’s hand now hovered over her sanjiegun, still nestled in its hip holster. “I can smell that filthy rotgut booze on you, Dubh,” the count replied, quietly so that only Dubh could hear him. “Which would certainly explain your disgraceful display upon my arrival. I pray that the rest of this…‘cruise’ goes more smoothly than it is promising to.” He stepped back a pace, exiting the man’s personal space and easing the tension from Rikuto’s stance. Never once relaxing his clearly furious stance, he continued in the same calm monotone he had been using since the quartermaster had spoken. “If we all understand each other now, let us set sail immediately. We have wasted enough time as is. I would also greatly appreciate a tour of your wonderful vessel as well as directions as to where my quarters will be,” he said, allowing a heavy dose of sarcasm to tinge his tone.