[Secyclion] Not All Boat Threads Suck (Roscarnis)

[Rosie Kyrillos-Thorne]

So Rosie didn’t know how to bind a ghost. Big deal. She was sure there were a lot of things that she knew how to do that the ghosts didn’t. Like breathing without her skin sliding off, but you didn’t see her laughing at them because of their ignorance. It was pretty rude to be quite honest and she made an even ruder gesture with her hands while the undead specters poked fun at her.

And then came Alexandros’ disappointed voice. She snapped her gaze onto him and muttered, ”Et tu, Alexandros?” If it hadn’t been for his two word instructions, she wouldn’t have tried it in the first place. Maybe if he’d been a better on-the-fly professor in the art of ghost binding, Rosie would have managed it on the first try. But he wasn’t, so she didn’t, and now here they were.

Since it didn’t look like the ghosts were going to follow through on their admiral’s threat of cutting out her tongue, Rosie decided not to jump in the water and leave her island fuckboy on his own. The option still remained though; and, if Alexandros kept speaking to her condescendingly, she most definitely would leave him to his fate. For now though, she was willing to forgive the slight and continue to try and reason with these ghosts.

Which… didn’t make a whole lot of sense considering they seemed to only repeat each other. The only one with an original thought in his decaying head was Crowham. Except now his original thought was to sell her off as a court jester, an idea that had definitely been floated her way before. It would seem Rosie gave off a certain impression that had people thinking she wasn’t a serious person. A fair assumption, but one that still rankled her.

One of the ghosts began dragging a net towards her, slowly as if he had no sense of urgency in carrying out his admiral’s orders. If he’d been a member of Rosie’s crew, he would have received a tongue-lashing for his lackadaisical approach to his work. But he wasn’t and his lumbering movements were actually to her advantage.

She stepped backwards as far as she could until she stood on the aft-most part of the fishing vessel. Alexandros asked for the brooch and she closed her fist around it, holding it against her heart as if it could protect her from all of this. This was her treasure, she’d found it, it belonged to her. She didn’t trust that Alexandros knew what he was doing. Plus, a part of her (a very small, yet powerful part of her), wanted her to get captured so that she could then steal the ghost ship from its crew. Not that she had any sort of plan other than don’t die in the process.

She glanced from the man dragging the net, to Crowham, to his two ships that sat floating nearby. She wanted those ships, wanted the crew to look to her for leadership and salvation from their doomed plight, needed it to fill that empty, lonely void that had been opened in her heart since the day her father betrayed her. But, sometimes, even Rosie knew when to back down and allow someone else to help her.

”Just promise to give it back,” she said to Alexandros, handing him the brooch whether he actually promised or not. She didn't know if the insignia could actually help them, but it would still fetch a pretty price in the right market and she didn’t want to miss out on the income. She had a crew to feed, after all.

 

[Roscarnis de Lylles]

The Secyclionian grasped at the bauble, before an 'oh wait' expression came over his features, a stupefied look as he scratched his head, waving about his sword at the approaching spirits that slowly lobbed towards them as though it could keep them at bay (it didn't).

"Oh fuck, what's his first name? Can't bind him without that." He shrugged and gave an apologetic look. As the circle of phantoms approached, the air started to shimmer even more coldly, and Rosie's skin would begin to feel the numb, prickly feeling that somehow made it worse with the lapping winds of the sea. Alexandros looked to be completely perplexed.

Alexandros, was clearly not the smartest blade on Secyclion either, thank Markalin he was good looking and somewhat decent in sex. There was a term that originated from the Gut of Port Alyxandrya after all - "The dumb fucks good". In Alexandros' case, that phrase seems to have been brought to life.

Anyways, Adjurators, or they claimed, believed that True Names were all it took to fully bind a spirit to their will. That piece of crucial knowledge was of course, not something that either of the two were aware of. What would be the likely first name of an Imperial Navyman? By the time Rosie went through all of them, it was likely their bodies would be rotting at the bottom of the ocean like the Enamorian, and their spirits haled to serve the shade of Imperial Admiral in perpetuity.

Not much time to contemplate though, as the crew of the of the A.E.S. Victoriam began closing in further, the net spread out and ready to be cast upon them both. It would appear their capture was imminent.

At least that small part of Rosie would be happy, all things considered.

From the corner of her eyes, she could see the Admiral aboard his vessel now, one hand pointed at the sea, as he slowly lifted his hands up.

From the frothing waters of the sea, the translucent, pristine and non-decayed form of the double-crossing Enamorian floated to the surface, harvested by the will of Admiral Crowham. The Enamorian's eyes were closed as though asleep, his arms crossed and each palm on either shoulders as he was pulled out of the seas to float next to the Admiral.

Some sort of ghostly ritual, it seems.

Is that small part of Rosie still happy? Maybe not.

 

[Rosie Kyrillos-Thorne]

Rosie snatched the insignia back from Alexandros with a shake of her head. If he wasn’t going to use it, he should at least let her hold onto it. So they needed his name. His full name. She supposed it would be too easy if his first name was Admiral. Still, worth a shot. ”Admiral Crowham?” she said, shaking the brooch as if that was enough to get the magic inside it working.

The ghostly crew continued to advance in their super slow manner. Which left Rosie with more time to contemplate the nuances of just how ridiculous it would be to allow such a thing to happen. Their weapons didn’t work here. The pin was all but useless without a first name. And the Admiral looked to be performing some kind of resurrection ritual on the newly deceased crying man. Even that small part of her that wanted to be captured knew it was a bad idea, all things considered.

”Admiral Seth Crowham, I’m sorry!” she cried out in a last ditch effort to ingratiate herself with the admiral. ”Maybe we can still work things out, John Crowham!” She kept one eye on the encroaching net, moving around in a circle in an attempt to bring herself closer to the admiral so that she didn’t have to shout.

”You have a debt, right? Well, Ulysses Crowham if you let me live, I’ll be indebted to you.” Seemed only fair. She just hoped that the admiral had the mental capacity to make the connections she was trying to articulate.

She stuffed the insignia into her pocket for safekeeping and continued. ”What if I paid a little visit to the person who holds your debt, Elijah Crowham? Made them let you and your crew go free, Oliver Crowham? Would that possibility be worth sparing our lives, Liam Crowham?” She wasn’t entirely confident that she could accomplish such a thing. Whomever these ghosts were bound to obviously had massive amounts of power. Sneaking in to threaten or steal would take a certain amount of finesse that Rosie probably didn’t have.

”Benjamin Crowham, we could even work together to do it.” An untouchable ghost crew might just be the only way to infiltrate wherever their debt was being held. ”Is it a bank, Lucas Crowham? A noble?”

She watched as the Enamorian reanimated and started to become a member of the undead crew, not wanting any part of that right now. Rosie wasn’t necessarily afraid to die, but the thought of going from admiral to deckhand was not appealing in the least. Even if she knew she’d take his spot eventually, she didn’t want to have to swab rotting skin from the deck.

”Isn’t it worth a shot, Joseph Crowham? If it means that you and your crew can finally rest, Lincoln Crowham?”

 

[Roscarnis de Lylles]

It was truly a gamble on Rosie's part. Fortunately Imperials were not known to be very creative with names, especially a man that made it to the rank of Admiral in the Imperial Navy, commandeering a ship named after an Imperial victory after the Xet. There was only so much to go from, truly.

And so when she landed on the name Ulyssus, all the spirits simply... froze. Unblinking eyes turned to stare at Rosie and Alexandros, as Crowham himself slowly craned his head towards her, a mixture of sneer and hatred on his features. He too, could not move from his position. The backstabbing Enamorian, a new unblemished spirit simply stood next to the Admiral, likely still confused about his recent twist of fates.

Alexandros, the animated Eunesian, for his part, only made a super rude gesture with his sword hand as he jumped into the air excitedly before doing a lap around Crowham's deckhands, shit talking them now that they were immobile. At least his tip seemed to have worked, but lady luck clearly smiled on the pirate queen of Jaedaxia as well. Binding a spirit after all, took more than just the spirits true name.

It was a combination of words associated with the name, and usually an item belonging to the spirit as well that made such a ritual possible. If anything, if her privateering career did not work out, Rosie may yet have a flair for the forbidden arts of adjuration.

"Hah! Fucking Imperials, even their ghosts have the dullest names. You got him, kyria!" Alexandros doing a little victory dance of sorts, as he did a twirl and flourish with his blade. A show pony through and through, it was still not clear if he actually knew how to actually fight anything, much less a malevolent spirit of a dead Imperial.

Still, crisis seemed to have been averted temporarily, and was certainly a cause for celebration.

"What have you done? You fool. The Northern Alliance Counting House will have your heads." Crowham spoke finally, his one empty socket staring at her from the void in which his crew and him were born from.

 

[Rosie Kyrillos-Thorne]

When all of the specters froze in place, Rosie couldn’t help but do the same. Was it something she’d said? Alexandros was the first to celebrate, twirling around the transfixed figures and taunting them now they didn’t pose a threat. It was enough to bring a smile to her lips as she placed the insignia in her pocket. Now that she had guessed the admiral’s full name, apparently she had bound him. Whatever that meant in terms of the grander scheme of things, she could only imagine.

Ulysses wasn’t too happy with it. To be fair, he didn’t seem to be happy about much of anything. Rosie could commiserate, but she definitely couldn’t empathize. If she had been so unlucky as to be turned into a ghost by them, she would have made the best of it and refused to let it turn her attitude so sour. Or at least, that’s what she would like to think she would do. And she wasn’t about to test this theory. Not unless she had no other choice.

She waited until Alexandros was done gloating to turn her attention back to Admiral Ulysses Crowham, who had some more words for her than he did before. ”So a bank then,” she said with a nod of her head. She should have known. Those who worshipped money often went to the greatest lengths to protect their coin, apparently that included conscripting souls even after death. Not a good look really.

It crossed her mind that she had promised to help Crowham and his crew once they stopped trying to kill her, and Rosie still intended to hold true to her word, but she didn’t trust the admiral enough to give him back his brooch. At least not yet. He was going to prove himself to be honorable first.

”How are they going to know unless you tell them?” she asked with a shrug. ”The way I see it, you continue making your rounds for them as if nothing is amiss, while I try to figure out how to set you and your men free. Which might take awhile.” Rosie was aware that she could simply steal these spirits and use them for her own gains, but that would mean the Alliance would be hunting her and she knew she didn’t have the means to escape that amount of power and influence. It also meant that she would basically be a slaver and that wasn’t exactly her style. She was much more a fan of free will.

”Unless you’re willing to fight for your independence, too?” she looked to Crowham expectantly. ”What do you know about them that could help?”

 

[Roscarnis de Lylles]

With empty, stony eyes, the spectres appraised their new mistress. It was not immediately clear if she had bound them all, or that she had bound Crowham, which in the sum of things, allowing her to hold command over the rest of his other spirit minions. Nonetheless, it seemed the immediate crisis was averted, for now at least.

As for the rest of her words, the long dead Admiral seemed to contemplate carefully. It seemed he was thinking, trying to reconcile certain difficulties. Then again, who knew what binding a spirit meant? What paracasual or metaphysical laws had to be adhered to, and if indeed Rosie was breaking any of them at all.

"Is this... your command?" He asked softly, not looking particularly pleased; but again, it was really hard to look like anything in his current state. It came off as someone who really wanted candy, but had just been told that he couldn't have any. Perhaps Rosie's moderate approach also helped, and that she was no longer trying to antagonize the spirits.

After all, If you kick a dog, it’ll crawl back, lick your foot, begging for forgiveness. Kick a wolf, and he’ll rip your face off. It was still too soon to tell if this Admiral Crowham was a wolf... or a dog.

"We may not, we are now twice-bound." Admiral Ulyssus Crowham fumed, losing that threatening voice, and simply speaking in a soft cellophane-like whisper. It was clear, however, that he was not pleased about this. An ex-Imperial, now bound to a Northumbria bank alliance filled with secessionist sentiments... and a Jaedaxian.

How the times have changed.

"Now we have two masters, and may only only proceed if interests are aligned."

Most interesting indeed. All up to Rosie now, since her Secyclion lover for a brightening was now doing a series of hip thrusts and air punches at one of spirits, looking completely ridiculous. Keeping the badge appeared to be a smart move as well - who knows what was going to happen if she lost it.

 

[Rosie Kyrillos-Thorne]

The way Crowham asked if everything Rosie said was a command twisted at her heart strings. She wasn’t new to being in charge, had fought for most of her life to become the person she was now, but she could sympathize with the Imperial. If someone waltzed up to her and started issuing orders that she had no choice but to obey, she would have been salty too. Especially if those orders didn’t line up with her own code of morality. This was the most difficult part about pirating: dealing with the crew of a new ship and convincing them that they were better off under her command.

”That’s enough, Alexandros,” she said, finally reprimanding the Secyclion while he continued to taunt the spirits. She hadn’t minded at first, even thought it was warranted considering these ghosts had just threatened to cut out her tongue and sell her off to some disgusting noble. But now was the time for reconciliation, the fight was over, and they all needed to forgive what was said or done when they were adversaries.

She tried to understand what Crowham meant by twice bound and none of her thoughts made the ghost crew’s existence sound particularly pleasant. Rosie really did feel pity for them. No one deserved this, even if they were Imperial.

While her father and brother might have dealt with the counting house, Rosie’d never had need of it. She knew next to nothing about the place other than it was a bank; and, well, banks didn’t exactly have the best reputation among the sort of people she tended to hang out with.

”Their interests wouldn’t happen to include installing a new Empress on the throne and fighting for Jaedaxia’s independence, would they?” Rosie didn’t see the point in playing coy anymore. If Crowham and his crew were truly bound to her, then they had as much right as anyone else in her fleet to know the truth of their plight.

But she wanted to put Ulysses and his men at ease as much as she could. This new tone of his made Rosie almost long for the rougher one from earlier. At least then she wouldn’t feel so bad about any of this. ”I don’t know how much you’re aware of the state of the Empire these days, but it’s pretty much been blown to smithereens by Xet, ratta, and dark elves. A new era is upon us. One where power is shared among independent nations who come together against common enemies as allies.”

It all sounded like a good idea to her, but she knew that not everyone was an optimist, so she quickly went on. ”I’m actually fighting for the new Empress and she’s agreed to let Jaedaxia become its own nation. The bitterness of the past is at its end. So, if you’re willing to fight with me, I’ll do everything I can to ensure your debt is paid and you’re freed so you and your crew can finally rest.”

She hoped that was enough, but just in case it wasn’t, she added, ”I’m going to need your help and leadership navigating this whole binding thing. This is new territory for me. That’s not a command, but more a… personal request from your new ally.” One that technically still held the other enthralled by a magic bauble, but Rosie was willing to overlook that small detail in order to fit her narrative.

 

[Roscarnis de Lylles]

Admiral Ulyssus Crowham blinked his one good eye at Rosie as a look of bewilderment came over him, his mouth parted slightly in an 'O' of surprise. It seemed for the last century or so, they had sailed, not knowing that the Empire had moved on and had seen more upheaval than they had compared to the last five hundred eras. Imperium had exchanged hands as the wager of the Darkening drew to a close, and the shattering of the Aethergem may have brought new opportunities, but with it the twin sisters of strife and uncertainty as well.

"Which Empress? Did His Majesty, Valerian Constantius die? Sometimes it seems the Empire is cursed, much like us, a ghost state that is damned to sail the oceans forever, unable to be free of its sins." If only he knew that that was the understatement of the century. Things have gotten much, much worse since Admiral Crowham was still living, He continued to muse to himself, it seemed, as though he suddenly found the entirely situation quite amusing.

At least Alexandros had stopped just to observe.

"She sounds like a terrible Empress. Independence for those charismean swine?" Ok, so he was at least a true blood Imperial. And at least it was clear that Imperials and Jaedaxiennes did not get along. Sentiments had slowly began recovering after the Regency of Milo L'evienne, but these blood debts spanned across genealogies that went back at least six to seven generations, and were not so easily quelled.

It was Rosie's next sentence that sent the Admiral Crowham coughing as he crossed his arms. He did not seem particularly impressed by the statement, even if the pirate queen was indeed trying to take on a more conciliatory approach to manage this latest situation. Ghosts, it seemed, were quite one-note, stuck in a time from the moment they had passed on, and not able to have a very firm grasps on present realities.

"And why in Markalin's name would I help you to control me and my crew?" He barked. Motioning to his silent crew who only stared at them with cold, hollow eyes. "You cannot grant us this this rest, even if you so wished. We are twice-bound. To you and to our other Masters." The last sentence was murmured almost bitterly before he perked that one good eyebrow he had. A small crustacean darted across his face, and into his right nostril. "Only a collective agreement can set us free."

"I think he just called you dumb, kyria." The Secyclionian, helpful as ever.

 

[Rosie Kyrillos-Thorne]

Rosie nodded solemnly in answer to Ulysses’ question about Constantius. Mostly, she just assumed that the guy was dead. History wasn’t exactly her best subject, especially when it came to remembering the names of Jaedaxia’s oppressors. They were all the same and separating them by name wasn’t really necessary in her mind.

She did, however, enjoy the admiral’s metaphor. ”There’s always hope, mon ami fantomatique.” She felt like she was getting through to him, as if the things she was saying were hitting their mark and that this would turn into a mutually beneficial relationship.

But then Crowham had to go and ruin it by reverting back to his old prejudices. She rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh. ”What am I going to do with you?” she asked with what little good humor she still had left. ”If you’re so determined to wallow in your pit of sorrow, so be it. But you’ll come around in time.” They always did. Rosie had a way of growing on people.

She knew she was prickly at first, arrogant and too self-assured, but over time, her edges softened and others couldn’t help but flock to her. How else would she be able to command so many ships if her crews didn’t love and believe in her? Soon enough, Crowham would be eating out of the palm of her hand. At least that’s what she kept telling herself: there was no need to convince him right this second, he’d come around eventually.

”And you probably won’t bother telling me anything useful about your other master then? Fine. I’ll negotiate with them myself and free you without your help and you can thank me from the other side.” And until then, she’d continue to needle her way into what was left of Crowham’s psyche until he couldn’t help but rejoice when he saw her face.

When Alexandros decided to pipe up, Rosie gave a small laugh and shrugged her shoulders. ”In this very specific situation, I suppose I am completely ignorant.” There was nothing wrong with not knowing something. The wrong part came in when someone refused to learn about that something. Or in Ulysses’ case, to refuse to help educate someone who wanted to learn. It was out of her hands though, it wasn’t like she had something in her pocket that she could use to compel him to speak.

”Twice-bound,” she muttered, trying to figure out what that meant in a logistical sense. ”So if I commanded you to do something against your other masters, you wouldn’t be able to, oui? Does that work the other way around? They can’t order you against me?” That would certainly be helpful.

She waved her hand dismissively, not expecting Crowham to be of any help, and then tapped her lips with the tip of her forefinger, thinking. ”Guess we’ll find out eventually,” she said. ”Until then, why don’t you go ahead and get your men off my boat and go about your unmerry way. Unless you’d prefer to follow me around in the shadows until I have need of you?”

 

[Roscarnis de Lylles]

"We may not, we are twice-bound." Again, the same answer. Whatever he meant, it was clear that there were some kind of rule or law that bound spirits had to obey, and whatever that was asked of him could not be exclusive to what was asked by his other Masters. He also did not seem like he could be made to move against them, which perhaps also meant that he could not move against her.

As to Rosie's promise that she could free his men and him? No reply beyond the same ghostly expression; it did appear that it would take some time before she could earn the trust of this crew, quite unlike the people that Rosie were used to. Then again, most of the folks that even grew on Rosie had not been of the dead variety.

This was a creature that after all, had wandered the seas for a hundred eras in servitude to his unknown masters. There were rumors of course, of the nefarious bankers of Alliance and their delving into the dark arts of necromacy to bind spirits like Crowham to service their debts owned. Whatever Admiral Crowham did to owe the Alliance, he was clearly in over his head.

The Arkdüni branch of the Counting House, had in particular been brought to trial in 2 PF over this alleged slaving of unrestful spirits in servitude of the ambitions of the Alliance. The judge then had ruled in favor of the Northern Alliance Counting House, and the matter was discussed no longer, the Alliance allowed to conduct the business they saw fit with the spirits.

And then it seemed like Rosie had finally asked something that could be fulfilled. The Admiral barked at his crew in that archaic regiment sort of manner (the man had served in the Imperial Navy, after all) as they started to move backwards, their expressions blank, vacant. It was clear why Crowham was their leader, either that, or they were all simply bound to the indomitable will of the dead Admiral himself.

"Very well," A soft whisper in her ear from the spirit Admiral, even if she did stand quite a distance from him.

"We shall take our leave then," Ulyssus Crowham lifted the bicorn off his head as he bowed deeply. It appeared the creature, at least, was no longer malicious towards her, which was a good start.

The Secyclionian let out a let out his held breath as he exhaled sharply like a whistle. Dark eyes turned towards her as the plank was lifted off their small fishing vessel as the two phantom ships pulled away. Their occupants stood unmoving as they stared at the Rosie and her Eunesian companion soullessly. And then they faded further and further away until the cold haze swallowed them whole.

The cold air lifted from the living, as the warm air of the Eunesian seas floated back towards them.

"That, might be one of the craziest things that I have ever done."

-Fin-

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[Grim]

Congratulations! You have completed a thread! Rosie receives: +1 xp Alcohol Production Lore: Ghosts A new friend!