Akimi opens their maw to reply, stops, snaps it shut, and sits with one finger jutting dumbly in the air as they finally realize what they just said. OH GODS WHAT DO I DO NOW they sceam mentally.
Well, in for a copper, in for a crown...
"Yes," they finally reply, hiding their snout in their mug but forcing themself to meet the pirate's eyes. Even sloshed, it feels like a monumental task.
Ellen stares back with that smile of hers, tapping her fingertips on the table and letting it sit in the air for a while.
It feels like an eternity when she finally speaks again.
"How much do you know about the River Kingdoms?"
Akimi goes to take another swig and realizes sadly that the mug is empty. "Ten seconds ago, I didn't even know there was a place called the River Kingdoms. Is it near here?"
"Places."
She hems and haws a moment. "It's not too far, if you're talking... continental. If we went north of the Isle and took the river up through the Shining Kingdoms and past Kyonin, you'd get there without having to step off your ship--except maybe to grab fresh supplies."
"Basically, the elves used to have the land as a sort of big hunting reserve, and then eventually they got tired of keeping people from building kingdoms there. And then people built, like, a billion kingdoms, and they rose and fell and everyone stabbed everyone in the back constantly forever and the whole thing is a mess. Last time I checked, half of our neighboring kingdoms no longer existed and half of the other half were under new management."
She reached for her own drink and took a hearty swig.
"Anyway, so uh. There was this... princess."
Akimi blinks in mild surprise. Was she the princess, or was the princess someone important to her? That pause was so pregnant it's ready to have a whole litter. Curiosity piqued, Akimi leaned forward. "Go on..."
"Well," she says, clearly trying to decide on her words, "like any princess of the River Kingdoms, her life was filled with the worst kind of politics, but because she's first in line for the throne, the standards of the court are higher still.
You might expect someone raised in that kind of environment to be... crafty, or cruel, or even simply distrustful. But she is the furthest from these things you would ever know--no matter how many assassins they sent after her, she never stopped being a sweet ball of joy."
Her eyes narrow as she raises her cup to her lips once more.
"But I did."
Akimi frowns. That sounded... ominous. "What happened?"
Ellen sighs. "Assassination attempts--blades, poisons, quick shoves from the edge of a balcony. Foiling them all became a full-time job because everyone wanted me to succeed the crown. Eventually, I..."
She grimaces almost sheepishly, despite the topic at hand.
"Eventually, I hunted down the current heads of the factions that hated her so and mounted them on spikes. Made an announcement that if ever there was another attempt on the princess's life from within the kingdom or without, I'd come back and tear the kingdom apart, one person at a time, castle included, and use the stones from the castle to build her the only grave I'd leave standing."
She sips her drink.
"Hasn't been an attempt since, my leads tell me, and the army's never repelled outside threats with such vigor before. The last letter I got from her was written less than a month ago--if we settle down here for a while, I'll send her a letter and tell her where she can send her reply."
She pats her left breast, and if Akimi is listening closely over the din of the tavern, they can hear the telltale crinkle of paper from her inner pocket.
Akimi's keen ears would normally pick up the sound, but they're pretty sauced, and their attention is drawn more to the area being patted than the significance of it. They sheepishly tear their eyes away, glancing at the empty mug for a moment before muttering, "Hold on," and scurrying to the bar. They come back holding four mugs of something frothy and rich, setting two in front of Ellen and taking two for themself.
They take a long pull, leaving a foam mustache across their snout, and say, "That sounds... awful. All of it. I've never had to kill anyone before. Animals for food or self-defense, sure. And... whatever that spider-thing was in the fishery. And I guess I put a bolt or two in those dwarves. But nothing like..." They shudder. "Like that." They sigh and take another long pull. The stout is almost thick, it's so strong, with a deep, oaty flavor. "I guess... after seeing what that oni did to my family, and all the murder victims that wound up on my slab..." They shrug in an effort to seem nonchalant, but they look sad. "I guess I just don't want to add to the pile of the dead. I promise I won't hesitate though, if somebody's in trouble. I don't want to be a coward, just... y'know."
Fearing this "practice" date is spiraling into a fit of depression, Akimi raps their knuckles on the table and says glibly, "Anyway, that's why I eventually left my apprenticeship and got a new job at a bakery. That's where I found my love of cooking. The shop was run by a guy named Hong, from Xa Hoi, but he mostly did Galtan style pastries, especially meat pastries. He specialized -- I s#!+ you not -- in rat turnovers. I mean, needless to say, not many humans brave enough to try them, but a lot of others are big fans. Kitsune especially, but there were quite a few hobgoblins in Kasai and they were big fans, too. Didn't exactly do brisk business, but he's dedicated to the craft." They scratch their cheek sheepishly. "He's also the one that gave me my stupid nickname."
Ellen looks somber, and she sips along as Akimi speaks.
"Honestly, I'd go for one. Other nobles sneered at us for eating rodents, but like. I don't see them complaining about eating pigs, and they're just as dirty, just... bigger."
"That's the, uh, 'Truffles' thing, right? I'm guessing you used a lot of truffle oil or something...?"
Akimi snorts. "I used fancy mushrooms one time, and Hong never lets me hear the end of it! I mean, people liked 'em, but so what? Now I gotta be 'Dr. Truffles'? Just rude!"
Now Akimi gets sheepish again. "Then Hong demands I do demonstrations. Says I have, uh... flair. So I do, and soon people are lining up down the block to watch." They shake their head in disbelief. "Eventually Hong kicked me out. Well -- he said my talents were wasted there, and I needed to strike out on my own, but same thing." They gulp more stout and scratch their nose. "Found my way to Absalom. I ran a stall in the Grand Bazaar for a while, and I got a small following there, but it wasn't the same. I missed home, Kasai. But I didn't want to let down Hong or my dad, so I toughed it out. Tried adventuring once, almost got killed. Decided that wasn't for me either. I wandered around Kortos for a while until I ended up in Otari working for that absolute tool at the restaurant. And then I met you."
They blink, clear their throat, and add hurriedly, "All. You all. You and Jacques and Dev. So. That's uh. That."
Like butter. Dumbass.
They drain the first beer. "I'd love to make you rat turnovers. Just say the word! Not right now, though. I am... pretty f!$~ing drunk. I should not be near sharp objects right now." They giggle, which gets unceremoniously cut short by a hiccup.
Ellen giggles too; she seems to be holding her liquor a lot better... but then, she only just got started.
"Honestly? I say be where you want to be. Can your talents be happy? Can your talents feel at home? If you like living in Kasai, you should."
She closes her eyes a few moments, then takes a deep breath.
"Akimi, you're clearly crushing. And I don't mind that, and I will tell you the feeling is mutual--but I'll also tell you that if you want to pursue anything, it's not going to be exclusive."
She glances briefly in no particular direction, whether Dev happens to be inhabiting that space or not.
"Just figured I should be... up front about that."
Akimi blinks slowly, then shakes their head. "I... am a little too drunk for that conversation. I will say exclusivity never made much sense to me. As to crushing..." They shrug, as if to say who knows? "I'm bad at this. Obviously."
They slowly twirl the half-mug of beer remaining. "I don't wanna go home. Not yet. I like places, an' people, an' weird stuff like spider-people that make web traps an' try ta murder me. It's scary, but it's also... I dunno, like I'm learnin'. I like that. I never knew nothin' in the forest. Which was nice an' all, but now I know what's out there, an' how weird it all is, an' how much cool weird stuff I must not know 'bout? How can I stay?"
They stare guiltily at their paws. "But I do think 'bout my dad. An' him bein' all alone out there. 's farmers an' loggers'n all nearby, but not so close they could come runnin' if someth'n hap... happens..."
They fold their arms on the table and bury their head in it. "What if somth'n happens to 'im?" They try not to cry but gods, they're so far from home and they're messing it up with the cute pirate captain and they have no bloody clue what they're doing half the time and they're drunk and why do they always do this to themself??
"I... think I need to sleep," they mumble through their arms.
Ellen sighs. "We'll go check on him some time," she says, reaching across the table. Her fingers curl around Akimi's paws, and she holds them until they pass out.
Akimi huffs indignantly. "Haven't passed out in a bar yet. Don't planna. Goin t'my roooossnnzzz..."
The kitsune is out cold and drooling on their sleeves. The fabric is already damp, however, in two dark splotches.
They can occasionally be heard to mumble "konnichiwa, Otōsan" and "anata ni aitakatta" in their sleep.
Ellen smirks and hefts Akimi up like they weighed nothing, nodding at Dev to follow if he wants to and heading out of the tavern, back toward the ship.
"Keeping an eye out for me?" she asks if he follows.
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Dev hops up and follows behind. Smiling in mock surprise, "Didn't even know you were in there." He then softens up a bit. "Well, I figured you deserved to relax for a night and let your guard down a little. Thought I would watch your back so you and the kit could get lost in each others eyes. Didn't think you'd let the kit get so plastered. Not really your style to 'ravish' anyone." He watches the unconscious form loll side to side as Ellen walks. "I hope they have something in that magic medical bag for hangovers. I have a feeling they'll be feeling this night all day tomorrow."
Ellen snorts. "All I did was goad them into singing and talk a bit. You'd think someone from the Forest of Spirits would be more used to drinking them, eh?" She chortles at herself.
"Appreciate the extra set of eyes. You're the only bodyguard that I've ever been able to trust, you know that?"
She sighs, and looks down at the fox in her arms.
"Hey, if anyone's gonna have a cure for a hangover, it's either a chef or a doctor, and they're both."
Passed out as they are, Akimi still gets a whiff of something really sour from a nearby alley. Apparently someone else didn't make it home from the bar without losing their cookies.
The evening walk back to the boat is really nice. A fresh breeze is coming off the sea, bringing the clanging of buoys and squawks of gulls as they settle in for sleep. Most families are back at home, only a couple people are moving about. Dev is happy he bought dinner at the bar but Ellen's tummy grumbles for food, not just booze. The myth about pirates living off the stuff is really just for recruitment posters.
Akimi's unconscious brain actually handles the bile smell just fine -- they worked at a morgue for almost two years, after all, and studied the gallbladder along with everything else -- but as soon as the salt smell from a particularly strong breeze hits Akimi's nose, they stir, flail in drunken confusion in Ellen's grasp, and plop unceremoniously to the ground where they promptly vomit. It isn't a graceful scene either; it's all over their clothes and fur.
Akimi wobbles to their feet, looks at the puke all over themself, and projectiles into the nearby alley with a shockingly powerful bellow.
After the demonic possession passes, they look around at their company and immediately wish they were literally anywhere in the world but here, standing in front of the two coolest people they've ever met, seven sheets to the wind and covered in throw-up.
"I..." They swallow, and good gods what did they eat. They teeter once, then manage to straighten themself. "I can walk. Don't... please don't get this on you... kay?" They nod a little too violently and their vision swims for a second, but it passes after a moment. "Kay."
They walk -- if it could be called that -- down the road toward the ship, and a body of water still not large enough to wash away their embarrassment.
The low save is due to the fact that Akimi tried very hard to avoid splattering you, but it could still happen. Vomit splatter tends to go everywhere.
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The magus cannot suppress a laugh. Well, he could have, but simply choses not to. He pats the investigator gently on the shoulder. "Aw, it's okay Kit. Sooner or later the bottle gets the best of all of us sometime. Probably won't be the last instance. There's no shame it it. Think of it like a right of passage."
Ellen's eyes widen as she feels the characteristic tense of Akimi's muscles against her cradling arms; she does her best not to drop the poor thing on their head, and when the vom starts voming, she leaps back about a yard and a half.
"Honestly, sometimes it's better to hurl than to ride it out," Ellen offers encouragingly; she reaches into her pack and pulls out a torch. As Akimi walks, Ellen uses it to stabilize them as much as she can, a helpful back support one moment and a makeshift shepherd's crook the next.
"Five silvers in a little bar like that's going to get you a wild cocktail every time," she tuts.
They tense slightly at the magus' touch but don't actually move away from it. It actually helps a little, especially after the sting of being laughed at, nodding in sour acceptance.
"Wild," they grumble. " 's one word fer it. Bet they snuck some pesh in it, 'r somth'n." Nine Hells, their mouth tastes bloody awful.
And why are there two freaking shorelines?
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Dev waves off the idea. "Nah. If they were using pesh, they're'd be a few thugs to drag you out of there and pressgang you into the hold of a docked ship about to cast off. It's how some unsavory captains build a crew. You wake up essentially naked miles from shore. Serve or swim. El don't play that way, but if you plan to start drinkin', best to be aware of some of the dangers. Well, other than how yer feeling at the moment." He watches Akimi's glassy-eyed head swaying side to side. [b]"Yeah, we should probably revisit this in the morning."
Maybe I should look into a magic way to clean up after such...explosive displays. Might be worth while.
Dev's story does not reduce any anxiety Akimi has about associating with pirates. In fact... are they doing that thing right now and just brazenly obvious about it? Oh god, where did Jacques get to. Is he already tied up in the hold?!?
The ship gets closer but Ellen smells the odor of fried fish and chips as they walk past a late night food vendor that is obviously looking to drum up some drunken business. Her stomach grumbles again, but then again, the kit needs sleep. Decisions!
The string of drunken, blurry anxieties are ripped through by a singular, primal urge triggered by their keen schnozz.
"holyshitfishnchips" Akimi mumbles and swerves to stagger toward the smell.
Jacques wakes from the longest nap and is pleasantly surprised to find that he now has a litter of baby spiders to care for. "I shall be the grandest spidey papa ever! The rest of you lot, have a care not to tread on my children!" He checks to make sure that all are accounted for before turning to Akimi. "Chef, how much do you know about spider cuisine?"
Somewhere very far away, stumbling toward the delectable odor of fried cod, Akimi suddenly wonders aloud, "Whaddyoo think bebeh spiders eat?"
When Akimi starts stumbling toward the fish and chips stand, Ellen is the last person on Golarion to dissuade them. She falls into step beside them and quickly hustles to the counter. "Two--three?" she asks, shrugging at Dev, then repeating whatever number is decided back to the vendor. "[Two or Three] helpings, please! If you've got some sauce or lemon or anything, don't hold back for mine."
The vendor, surprisingly not a greasy grubby fry-man gives a big smile showing almost perfect teeth that look a biiit too sharp replies, ”You gotsit! [2 or 3] coming right up. Aw heck’s, that little one okay? Here have some fresh water and toast, it’ll help the stomach.”
He hands out a few cups of water, a damp cloth and couple slices of slightly crisp very lightly buttered bread. Then you hear the sounds of frying as he drops thick wedges of potatoes into a big bubbling grease pot and starts filleting large hunks of whitefish.
"Yeah, too much to drink," she chuckles. "Happens to the best of us, so as our resident ball of sunshine, they were overdue."
She helps keep Akimi upright with one arm and offers to feed them with the other.
Akimi looks disappointed at the toast, but takes it anyway. "Still want fish," they grumble, as if the Universe has decided it's physically impossible to have both.
As they munch, they mumble, "We got flies, right? The bebehs gonna want flies mebbe. We should rot some meat or somthn." They stare wistfully off into the night sky, thinking about spider babies sucking up flies through a bottle like a human baby and giggling.
And before you even know it, the slowly chewed up bland bread is replaced with a huge slab of fried fish and crisp brown flaky taters. The perfect meal for any drinking situation, ever (I'll fight you).
To wash it down, a very smooth brown ale is included in the mere price of three coppers per meal (the fresh water is free). Extra drinks are two for another copper.
Back on the ship the spider babies coo and snuggle their confident fox daddy, not yet aware of the roll he took in their parent's murder.
Akimi, now empty of stomach, immediately refills it with delicious vendor food. "Thought about being a food stall vendor once," they say. Except the mouthful of food makes it more like "fuhd abuh ben a fooh fdall benuh wunf."
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Dev nods at the incoherent babble. "Sure Kit. We can look for a foo foo doll of a benny wolf in a little bit. Let's worry about keeping the fish down first." He takes a bite and offers an approving 'thumbs up' towards toward the vendor. "Good find El." He chews a bit more. "Maybe we should get back to the boat. I can only imagine what the blowhard is up to."
"No alcohol for us right now," she chuckles, she declines, taking her snack on the go.
"Excellent stuff! We'll be back unless our adventure takes us elsewhere!" she chimes.
"Honestly, I won't be terribly surprised if we find the ship burning and he gives us a story about fighting off three--no, four--no, twelve fiery djinn, all while he had his sword hand tied behind his back and his pants around his ankles."
Mouth still stuffed, Akimi chews and talks. "Wuh mun sihn dah. He muhd buh uh bluhuhd buhdeef hod. Uhll bluh if hawd, ehhhh!" They nudge Dev with their elbow and nearly knock themself off-balance in the process.
You get the distinct impression you probably don't want to know what they're saying.
Eventually food is stuffed in holes and the pack head back to the ship to find a happy Jacques prancing around teaching fencing moves to six large spiders (compared to normal spiders, but small compared to giant spiders, diminutive size fyi). They look similar to the giant spider creatures you all fought and killed at the fishery. Two are currently trying to mimic the thrusts and parries with small sticks.
Akimi slow-blinks at the sight before turning back to Dev and Ellen. "Am I still drunk, or does Jacques have swashbuckling spider babies?"
Ellen's shrug is as glacial as it is noncommittal.
"Hey, free crew."
The spiders all brandish their fangs and/or sticks at the three party members until Jacques explains how useful you all have been as his assistants.
Akimi even gets a really nice hug from one of the braver spiders once they warm up to your presence.
But sleep, sleep is necessary. Everyone crashes pretty hard and with Finley and the spiders on guard duty, no one disturbs your rest. The cool ocean breeze and gentle rocking is almost a perfect environment for sleep. Almost TOO perfect... DUN DUN DUN!
Dawn breaks and everyone is rested. There are, not surprisingly, no rats or bugs on the ship anymore. Just a collection of husks in the hold that need shoveled overboard.
The spiders manage to find a collection of top hats and canes, beginning an impromptu Broadway show practice. The stomping on the deck is quite loud, waking everyone up.
Jacques beams with pride when he sees the seagull on his chest. "Look, Finley, how quickly the babies are growing up! And they are natural hunters, just like their papa!" Seagull in one hand he hurries to find Akimi - "Chef, look what the babies have caught! How will you prepare it for them? Remember, not too spicy, they are still little, so little, but my how they have grown, can you believe it!?! My heart nearly bursts with pride! But quick, they must be quite hungry - do you think you could make gullbites for them? It's better when they have many small portions so they don't fight..." Without waiting for an answer, Jacques hurries off to attend to the babies, checking and changing each nappy nearly tirelessly. Once this rather lengthy task is complete, he sits down with Finley, and asks the swarm of baby spiders to perform another rendition of their favorite show tunes. "Bravo, encore, bravo!" It is difficult to tell who is more enthusiastic, Jacques or Finley, but soon they are both singing along with all the squeaky spiders to the stirring finale of Les Mis.
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As Dev wakes and dresses for the day, he hears distinct mansplaining from a familiar voice. "Better go check on things. Not worried if he's running his mouth at El. She'll put him in his place quick enough. The kit? That's another story. They're probably nursing a storm-sized hangover right now. I mean, it serves them right, but they gotta learn that ya gotta be dead to get outta duty on a boat. That said, dealing with Jack with a booze-induced headache is a price no one should have to pay. Well, maybe not pay full price for.
Making his way toward the galley, Dev casually steps into the tight space. With a beaming smile, he asks a little too loudly. "Is there any coffee brewing yet?" His eyes drift toward the filthy gull. "What the Hell is that doing in here?"
Jacques smiles at V'ro with delight. "Look what they've brought us for breakfast!" He sniffs at it once or twice. "And it's nearly fresh!
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When Dev shrieks into his quarters, Akimi looks at him the way they do when they're devising a battle stratagem against an enemy, then lobs their pillow.
The pillow hits the magus in the face with a satisfying whomp.
The grumpy, nauseous fox then slouches out of the room, dragging the seagull with them. "Gull bites," they grumble, scratching their stomach.
When it comes to cooking, Akimi is nothing if not open-minded. Their favorite dish to cook is rat turnovers, after all. So despite the ridiculous name Jacques gave it, "gull bites" might actually be the best way to cook this bird. It's a shockingly huge seagull -- big enough to make Akimi wonder how the hells a bunch of baby spider-people brought it down -- but it's still not as much meat as, say, a duck or chicken. They pluck, de-vein and start dicing. Some parsley that hasn't quite wilted all the way gets minced and thrown into the pan with just a touch of lard, which they get sizzling as they crush a clove of garlic. They take several smaller chunks and cook those before adding the garlic, then sets those aside to drain and cool before giving to the babies, then throws the crushed garlic into the frying pan with the rest of the meat.
Within a few minutes, fried gull with romaine lettuce and diced baby tomatoes is served on fried flatbread with a sprinkling of shaved gouda cheese. By the time they plate and serve everyone, their hangover is mostly gone, though they give themself the smallest portion and drink water prodigiously.
To Akimi's absolute lack of surprise, seagull tastes a lot like chicken, just slightly gamier.