by Kell Inkston
“Mister Jim Masthaven to you, my baguette,” The Captain corrects.
“Oh, lovely,” she says, looking into the boy’s eyes passionately.
“A-a p-pleasure to make your ah-…” Jim struggles to speak as he melts under Irefall’s touch.
She smiles and lets go. “Nice to meet you, Jim!” She pats him on the head and moves on.
“Hi,” Jim says plainly, eyes suddenly as empty and wide as his soul. He looks over to Colette, who’s covering her mouth to hide her smirk.
She looks over Luisoix, and concern marks her features. “Oh… I didn’t invite you, didn’t I?” She says, not even venturing to touch him.
“Sup, bitch?” Luisoix says, hands in his pockets and scaly brows raised.
“Mister Luisoix!” The Captain snaps as Colette turns away immediately to conceal her snark grin as she pushes her palm hard against her mouth to stifle a laugh.
“Oh, it’s quite alright, dear Captain,” Irefall says, holding up her hand in peace. “We have been having some lighting problems so I guess it would be nice to have him along for his little dangling light… thingie.”
Luisoix clenches amidst an ill-contained snicker from Colette.
“Well I’d be the only thing lighting up the party so it’s good ya’ brought me,” Luisoix says with an unmoving expression.
“Hoho! Mister Luisoix,” Irefall says with an aura of powerful stuckuppedness, “I’m certain you’ll be just the thing the ball needs! I’ll have you go over some plans with my own chief engineer!” She makes a slight gesture with her hand, and like a spell, her dashing servant opens the passenger door to another one of the vehicles to present another occupant. A dim light blinks as an angler-fish seasort looks up from her book on theoretical physics and spots Luisoix.
Luisoix sighs. “Gods fuc-”
“Wow,” the lady angler-fish says in a tone of perfect boredom. “Shit for brains,” she says, containing her rage upon seeing him with unbelievable ability.
“Dumb bitch,” Luisoix snaps back as Colette forces her fist against her mouth to hold down her laughter. “Didn’t know you took up celebrity jobs. Bet it’s pretty challenging for that small brain of yours?” Luisoix adds.
“Better than working for chimp change on a crew fulla stupid normies.”
Luisoix snaps around to Irefall. “Really? Like actually really?”
The mayor shrugs and looks aside with obvious humor. “Oh! I just thought you’d enjoy Miss Tidealane’s presence considering you’re both of the same kind and all- you’re both interested in the same things, you know?”
“That’s racist,” Luisoix says bluntly.
“Wow, boss,” Tidealane says.
Irefall feigns surprise. “Wow, I don’t care. You two will be working on the seating and logistic arrangements for the ball!” She says with a completely matter-of-fact, peppy smile. “Isn’t that right, Captain?” She adds, looking over to The Captain with a victorious look.
Luisoix raises his finger. “Captain.”
The Captain hums.
“Captain, no.”
“I think you’d be of great help to Miss Tidealane.”
Luisoix looks up to the heavens. “Fuuuuuu-”
“And, you will be a courteous and well-mannered individual every moment you’re in her presence,” The Captain adds amidst Luisoix’s extended curse.
“-uuun. So fun,” Luisoix says as The Captain motions him forward.
“Now you two’ll go straight over to the manor and get things ready, won’t you?” Irefall says with a cooing, almost sensual tone.
Luisoix looks back to The Captain, who nods.
“I hate you both,” Luisoix says as he approaches the automobile containing Miss Tidealane. “Move over.”
“Move your face over,” Tidealane says as she scoots as far away from Luisoix’s side as possible.
“Yeah nice one,” Luisoix says as he hops in and closes the door.
“Your face is nice,” a muffled Tidealane says as the car drives off with a spout of steam.
The group watches them leave as Grancis raises a hand to wave them off. The Captain and The Mayor stare on down the road a moment, and both share a quick laugh that only the two of them seem to grasp the humor of.
“Interesting choice,” The Captain says.
She nods. “Well, angler-fish are some rare minds. She’s been helping me for a few years now.”
“They really do have good heads for engineering. Her of all the prospective employees, though?”
She glances over. “You know, I needed some excuse to get Luisoix back for that one time.”
“The flamethrower?” The Captain asks.
“Oh yes, the flamethrower,” she says.
The two a share a pleasured moment of reminiscence, and Irefall turns on her heel back to the remaining sailors. “Alright then! Boris, Jim, you two can go on to the manor as well in this car.” She gestures to another automobile, identical if not for the lack of irritable angler-fish people inside.
“THAT WILL BE OF THE MOST COMFORTABLE IN THE ARRAIGNING!” Boris broadcasts as Jim begins trembling again for a different reason.
“N-no! That car’s way too sma-”
“Jim,” The Captain cuts in with professional sternness, implying far more severity than the untrained ear could grasp.
Jim sighs and nods in defeat. “Alright… You first, Boris.”
“I COULD NOT BE OF THE POSSIBLY DOING SUCH, JIM FLESH. YOU MUST BE BEING OF THE FIRSTING!”
Jim nods again with a gaze of pure, destroyed surrender. “Okay.” Jim gets into the car, and a second later is squished by the shelled, spiky massiveness of Boris.
“I AM OF THE COMFORTABLE!” Boris says triumphantly as the driver finishes packing their luggage and forcing the door shut.
“Good for you, Boris,” a crushed Jim says at half-lung capacity as they drive off.
Irefall watches the second to last car leave and then turns to the remaining three. “How lovely, now the four of us can enjoy a nice day’s out without any interruptions!”
Colette inhales deeply, emotionally preparing herself for hours more in the company of this woman. “Cool!” she says.
The Captain looks about. “I suppose you want to show us around your… city?” He says “city” as if he were really saying “junkyard”.
Irefall smiles slyly and takes The Captain’s arm, shoulder by shoulder. “I have so much to show you! Please, won’t you be my date for today and… the ball as well?”
The Captain scoffs. “Why, my dear, you discredit me with your initiative. I was going to ask you the same question.”
“Oh, Captain!” She kisses him passionately in front of a shocked Grancis and a disgusted Colette.
The Captain pushes her away in a second’s time. “My dear, I appreciate your openness, but I feel rather uncomfortable sharing that sort of experience with you. By all means, we can date without those degenerative elements applied.”
Irefall pouts as she hugs his arm to her plump chest. “Oh, but Captain!”
“No ‘but’s about it, young lady. Distance and time has not changed our relationship in any way, and if it did, it certainly would not take such a form as this.” He pulls his elegant arm away back to a simple, gentlemanly arm-hold. “You will do well to remember that.”
She looks aside in measured disappointment and releases a solemn coo. “As you wish, Captain.” She brightens up instantly in front of the two girls, who are both frozen in the awkwardness that is displayed before them. “Well then, we’ll still have a fantastic time, I just know it.” She turns to look at the tall, cool servant. “Oh Marty~” She coos royally.
“I would prefer Vangair, your very-inventiveness,” Martaine Vangair says, glancing back quickly to The Captain.
The Captain didn’t recognize him with the scar. “Ahh, the honorable chief of police. Taking a break to do some chauffeuring?” The Captain asks as Grancis looks the man over- he’s familiar somehow.
; Vangair scowls. “I’m subservient to Mayor Irefall to fulfill her every desire. Today I’ll be escorting you all as your driver.”
The Captain nods. “A pleasure to have you, Chief Vangair.”
With a short commotion, the four pile into the steam-mobile and set off on their tour of the port.
The Captain is Forced to Endure the Torment that is Females Shopping, The Deep Gods Rest His Poor Soul, at least he gives Miss Ketiere a sound history lesson (AKA: The Rather Long Chapter Title)
The Captain, his two proteges, and Mayor Irefall face each other in the comfortable, limousine-like steam-car interior as Chief Vangair drives them to the first stop.
“Here we are!” Irefall exclaims with a cheerful coo.
The Captain leans to the side to spot the name of the establishment. “The Sunken Thread… A dress shop?”
Irefall’s smirk is crass. “Well I just knew that you packed along some disgusting attire for these two poor girls that doesn’t fit their femininity in the least.”
Grancis and Colette share an almost pleased glance as they hear The Captain clear his throat. “Nonsense, my dear. I’ve selected a set of trappings for both of them that exudes both poise and command in the ballroom. They’ll stand out and be honored the second they step in.”
Irefall looks over to the two girls, who both shrug. She motions the four out of the car, the outside rife with dispelled steam. “Then let’s take a look, shall we?” The brass-colored trunk is opened, the luggage removed, and Irefall scoffs in pity as she sees a pair of naval uniforms. Irefall glances snidely to The Captain. “Oh, yes. They’ll look great for the new ship’s departing day.”
The Captain looks away coolly. “What works for me should work for them. Their ability as leaders is far more important than their gender- an outfit of command will reflect this.”
Irefall smiles as if speaking to a child. “Oh, well do the girls feel the same?”
Grancis hums. “Well, I am curious if it would fit properly. My father said the most important thing about a party was appearance, after all.”
Colette shrugs. “I don’t care. The uniforms look cool,” she says, glancing over to The Captain, who nods.
“Absolutely. They have no need for your pompous courtesan garments, my darling. These two ladies understand the true value of-… Miss Irefall, stop right there!” The Captain trots in pursuit as Irefall takes one hand of each girl and parades right into the dress shop. Vangair, laxing in the car’s driver seat, chuckles seeing the infamous Captain trip on the curb and scarcely save his glasses before brushing himself off and entering the store.
The interior is just as The Captain feared: lacy, disorderly, smelling of perfume and with a gramophone playing calming music in the gaudy background of the establishment. He enters just in time for Irefall to shout for assistance, which is quickly delivered by a giant crab seasort.
“HOW MAY I BE HELPING THIS ONE?” The hideous crab seasort hisses out as he adjusts his XXXXXL sized bow tie with his two massive claws.
“Good day, Jacobson. These two ladies will be attending a ball tomorrow night, and they must be on the absolute top of their appearance!”
A stream of excited bubbles foam from Jacobson’s mouth. “THIS ONE WILL BE OF THE PLEASED TO BE HELPING THESE ONES! THIS WAY!” It screeches as it takes Grancis’ hand and pulls her along as if she were a bit of food to store in his sizable crab feeding pit. Grancis has no chance to decline before she’s practically floating through the place by her left arm into a dressing room.
There are a couple of rather brutish sounding tearing sounds from behind the dressing room curtain as the crab takes her measurements. Not a scream from Grancis is heard. Irefall leans over to The Captain. “She’s a rather calm girl.”
“She’d have to be on my ship. Also I’m afraid she’s lost most any understanding of personal space after working Boris’ kitchen,” The Captain explains as Jacobson rushes from rack to rack looking over a dozen dresses each second in search of the right one.
Irefall nods blandly as Jacobson laughs with enough volume to destroy a full nest of eggs. “THIS ONE HAS FOUND THE ONE!” Jacobson screeches victoriously. In a crustacean flash the giant crab delivers a prim-looking Grancis out via claw-seat. “THIS ONE’S LOOKIN’ GOOD!” He says as he slides Grancis down gently. For all the roughness Jacobson affords in the pursuit of efficiency, he certainly had a good eye for both matching clothes to people and hunting down wounded prey; the clothing-selection element obviously more important here.
In but a minute’s time, Grancis has gone from “chef’s apprentice” to “YA novel female protagonist”. It’s a shocking transformation. It’s a flowing, shoulderless, rather short-cut dress with resplendent black pearls cut and layered down— the darkness of the dress matches the tones of her hair and eyes, yet contrasts with the paleness of her skin. She looks wonderful.
Irefall glances over to a furious Captain with smugness painted across her face. “Well, how does it fit?”
Grancis turns about a single time as she looks herself over—it’s pretty, sure, but she isn’t really a fan that it’s almost a bathing suit. “Don’t you think the skirt is a little shor-”
“Nonsense my dear! A lady has to stay competitive in high society when there’s so many strapping young bachelors about. You’ll be fighting off the boys with sticks!” Irefalls cuts in as she signals Jacobson to start with Colette.
With a snap the crab swipes Colette and does the same to her, though with some difficulty.
“Easy! Shit! Hey!” Colette exclaims as various articles of clothes are tossed about from behind the curtain as she too is measured.
“TH-THIS ONE HAS NOT SEEN ONE OF SUCH… POWER BEFORE!” Jacobson says as he spends a moment longer than usual considering what would be a good fit. Again he bursts from the dressing room and retrieves a set of clothes too quickly for the three onlookers to see. Colette is dressed at speed and then delivered out gracefully and slid off the same way Grancis was.
Irefall sighs, Grancis gasps, and The Captain nods in approval. Colette’s been dressed in a formal naval officer’s attire, cap and all. She looks alright, if alright meant looking exactly like a dude.
“This is… actually, yeah, this is alright,” Colette says, parting her short bangs to get a look at her full ensemble.
Irefall huffs. “No! Dearie, you need to wear something that accentuates you as a woman! You can’t just walk into a ball looking like a boy!”
The Captain scoffs. “Ahh, but Mayor, she looks nothing like a boy. She look fully and completely like a true captain.”
A spark flicks in Colette’s eyes. “Y-ya’ think so?”
The Captain adjusts his glasses as Irefall takes a long, quiet, frustrated breath. “I know so,” he says.
Colette smiles in full satisfaction. “This is what I’ll wear, then.”
Irefall sighs. “You… you don’t want to fight off suitors?”
“If they’re suiting to become part of my crew one day, sure,” Colette says with a wry, particularly Captain-like confidence.
Irefall looks away with a smile. “Oh, well very well then, my dear! It’s cute too!” She says, sparing a quick glance to The Captain, one filled with vengeful contempt. “We’ll take both of them, Jacobson.” Irefall falls back slightly to lean against The Captain. “This… specimen, will be footing the bill.”
The Captain flinches. “Excuse m-”
“Of course, as any true gentleman would be willing to do…” Irefall adds, massaging The Captain’s neck endearingly. “I brought no money,” she whispers.
The Captain adjusts his cap and turns to Jacobson. “I will be making this purchase, good sir.”
Jacobson claps his claws in celebration as he steps behind the counter. Jacobson writes out the amount and Colette sees The Captain almost reach for his gun. Instead, The Captain calms himself and pulls out a considerable amount of cash for the purchases. “Thank you, sir,” The Captain says, handing over enough sins to pay Dr
. Estradia’s check for three months. Jacobson snaps up the dense coinage with a graceful claw and then does his best to bow using his array of awkward fiddler crab legs.
“THIS ONE IS OF THE PLEASED OF BEING TO THE SERVICING OF THESE ONES.”
“I’m certain you are,” The Captain says under his breath.
“Something the matter, Lewis?” Irefall asks she delivers the boxed up dress and uniform to The Captain to carry.
“Not at all, my crème brûlée.” The group returns to the car, and Vangair drives them off to a cute café where Irefall picked out some delicate pastries for the two girls and herself to snack on while The Captain just gets black coffee as he’s apt to at cafés. Irefall talks of all the things that The Captain expected of her, boys and dresses and dances and all that like. All the while Grancis nods and listens closely, responding as well as she can follow, and Colette becomes more and more confused- she has no clue how in the thousand seas this flippant, surface-level woman is the infamous and powerful engineer of death that The Captain’s made her out to be. She gets her chance to talk once they take a visit to the botanical gardens, also within Inner Wreckwind’s gentrified holds.
As Irefall’s decided she likes Grancis more because she acts like a proper lady, she keeps a tight shoulder on her as they step through the rose garden. Colette and The Captain are more or less left behind at the back of the group to follow along at their leisure. “So…” Colette looks on to be sure Irefall can’t hear her. “What’s the deal with this woman? Is she like, nuts?”
The Captain coos humorously. “No. She’s a bit of a coquette, truly, but she is as normal as any other human starving for power and glory. She’s very skilled at appearing to be someone she isn’t really much of at all.”
Colette squints in the sunlight to read the name of a peculiar plant. “So it’s an act? All this?”
The Captain strokes his chin. “I would say a more-accurate descriptor would be that she’s trying to be this, rather than putting it on. What you’re seeing is her first fold, like most any human that lives in civilized society. When the situation becomes more raw, you too will see the deeper parts of her clockwork - those rusted dark gears.”
