moving [★] GLADIATOR

[Keona.]

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If I fall, get knocked down, pick myself up off the ground

Swaying.  The Tempest rocks always.  Wooden floors swaying in rhythm to waves beneath them.  Familiar from the time of her birth, Keona lingered often on the docked ship.  Moving, without a single thought, to the cabin next to Kian's, if only to sleep where she felt the rock of the ocean.  Surrounded by the taste of salt.

She doesn't have to do this.  She feels that deep in her soul.  Free as pirates were, it simply made sense.  A choice.  Owning her new title.  Her new position of command.  It simply made sense.  Acknowledge tradition.  Besides.  Her crewmates needed to know where to find her when they needed her.  The Dealer typically resided in the sky parlor of the Tavern.

Empty for moons.  The tiny fae checks it out first.  Quietly walking besides the wall.  Mapping.  Thinking.

She owned very little she realized as she returned to the Tempest, taking stock there.  Very little.  Dragging any of her pillows and blankets for sleep would be... Fun.  She hardly wanted to cover them in sand.  Manu the stuffed parrot would be simple.  The dagger Hushsound gave her.  Carried carefully, it should be fine as well.  Not for the first time, she felt glad all of the braille books she enjoyed reading actually belonged to Raziel, since she wasn't sure how the hell she'd push that out of her cabin.

Okay.  Keep it simple.  Trips.

Keona carefully took the hilt of the dagger Hushsound gave her.  A tiny, hand-crafted blade.  She still did not feel entirely safe with a sharp weapon.  Slowly, the new Dealer padded off the Tempest, gripping the blade almost too tightly with between her jaws and headed to the Tavern.  Only to stop.

Seas.  In close quarters, surrounded by the day-to-day noise, the feline severely doubted she'd be able to avoid bumping into someone.  A sure way to send someone to the jungle temple.  Irritably, Keona's tail began to twitch to and fro.  Maybe she should have started with one of her other belongings first.

✯ — keona sibéal ní faoláin. female. dealer of the typhoon. blind. rusty spotted cat.  ref. bio.

[roan ;]

[align=center][div style="width: 45%; text-align: justify; font-size: 12pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: times new roman;"]♡ — Roan could not say that he was... well acquainted with weaponry, yet. He was still too young, and too inexperienced for such things. The most battle training he had was playing with moss balls and "sparring" with little crabs on the beach. He was hardly in a position to get into wielding knives or daggers yet. In addition to this, the boy couldn't say he was well acquainted with Keona yet, either. He knew that she was family, in some way. They were like... half siblings, or something along those lines. His father had told him exactly what, at some point, but the information had slipped from his mind. Besides their family relation, however, all Roan really knew about the other was that she was blind, and that her name was Keona. Beyond that, she was a total mystery to him, and the child hated mysteries. Well, really, he loved mysteries, but only the ones he got to solve. Not the ones that were still deep in the shadows and unknowable to him. So, when he spotted Keona walking on the docks from where he was sat in town, his eyes went wide with excitement, his paws already carrying him towards the female before he knew it.

When he got closer, and saw the blade that she had clenched in her jaws, he only found himself even more interested. The child's pawsteps were loud as he moved along the dock, coming to a stop a few paces ahead of the older female. He tilted his head to one side, his blue eyes locked in on the dagger in Keona's jaws as he spoke, "Hola, Keona! What are you carrying? It looks real sharp. Do you need help with it?" Truthfully, the boy knew that his mother probably wouldn't approve of him carrying such a thing for Keona, but... he couldn't help it. It was something new to him! Something exciting, and a little bit dangerous, and all of those added up to a cocktail of things that Roan wanted himself involved in, even if it wasn't good for him. Thankfully, it was pretty certain that Keona was the more educated and careful of the two, and the odds of her actually giving him the blade were quite low.

[Keona.]

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If I fall, get knocked down, pick myself up off the ground

Seas no.  The fae felt her ears perk then flick back.  Brows creasing sharply.  Her younger half-brother did not need to carry a knife.  Especially when only she was present to keep an 'eye' on him.  She frowned.  Words rested on the tip of her tongue before she realized she may have to set the knife down.  Okay.  With extreme focus and care, the Dealer rested the blade directly in front of her paws, conscious to point the tip away from herself for when she picked it up again.

"Aloha," she answered softly, her tail flicking.  "'s a knife, Roan. A crewmate named Hushsound forged it for me." Who had yet to wake up, she remembered grimly.  The last time she'd spoken to the quiet canine had been the day he'd gifted her the paw-crafted blade.  "'s still very dangerous jus' for me to carry it, so maybe we should wait until you're older." The likelihood of her words bringing disappointment made her suddenly wary.  Since her first younger half-brothers disappeared, she hardly knew what to expect.

Since she appreciated being useful, Keona decided she may as well offer him the choice to help her in another way.  "But hey, 'm tryin to get it up to the Sky Parlor, an' I don' think I can avoid everyone without a path cleared for me.  I don' really wanna poke anyone by accident." A sheepish admittance but she figured the concern was extremely valid.

Besides, if her little brother helped, the moving process would more than likely become smoother.  Keona found the thought reassuring, since she had never really tried the moving-out process before.  Slipping into the room next to Kian's had been too easy to fully experience the process.

✯ — keona sibéal ní faoláin. female. dealer of the typhoon. blind. rusty spotted cat.  ref. bio.

[ROXANNE R.]

CANNIBAL QUEEN { .:*・°☆ } ——— [size=10pt]info

Roxanne hardly ever stayed in one place especially with Roan running out and about, whenever her reptiles weren't behind his tail then it was her. Of course, it wasn't like she was behind his heels no, she wasn't that overprotective over her son thankfully for the young boy. She was only out on the beach, resting in the sand starting up a few occasional talks with passing Typhooners, some went pretty well and others would just consist of the other just leaving with with a snort or something. Her mismatched gaze betrayed her when she finally decided to glance over in Roan's direction only to see that he had run up over to his half sister, Keona, who just happened to have a knife. Roxie had a set of knives back home but they were stashed away from her son since she didn't want him to end up hurting himself, she felt her fur slightly prickle hoping that Keona wasn't going to let her younger half brother hold the knife. The thought made her nervous, she rose to her paws from where she had been laying with a twitch of her whiskers. She found herself walking over towards them with a faint smile on her maw as she would speak to announce her presence to the blindfolded Dealer "Hello, you two."

She briefly shook herself off to get rid of some small bits of sand, she had only caught onto a few things from their conversation. Mainly the one where Keona needed some help in moving without stabbing someone with the paw crafted blade, a soft smile on her maw as she would find her voice once more "I'd be willing to help if needed too," It was the least she could do, fuck, she was sure her crewmates would assist her too had she been in Keona's situation.
"character's speech."

[salem]

[div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]SALEM | The ever-changing world brought the consistency of movement.  In every fashion.  Dark eyes, hidden behind the carved sockets of the pumpkin, lingered curiously on the movement outside the tavern.  Settling on the most familiar -- a tiny feline he considered a friend.

A tiny feline with sightless but fascinating eyes.  She seemed wary of the knife she carried and Salem found his dark paws carrying him steadily in the direction.  Conscious of her quiet, solitary nature, he lingered on the edge.  Wary of adding his voice among the others.  Thoughtfully, he settled into silence, suddenly sure she would know he was here regardless.

Salem instead tilted his head, leaving his eyes to rest on the curious and energetic Roan.  "Let's spot for her," he suggested lightly.  "And clear the way up the stairs for her."
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[roan ;]

[align=center][div style="width: 45%; text-align: justify; font-size: 12pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: times new roman;"]♡ — There was some level of disappointment that came to Roan when his half sister told him that he couldn't carry the knife for her, but it didn't last exceedingly long. If it was really as dangerous as she said, he doubted that mama would be glad to see him carrying it, and he really didn't want to deal with angry Roxie. It was bad enough after he went wandering into the woods on his own and ran into Maali. Besides, at least it didn't seem as though he couldn't be of any use. Although he couldn't carry the dangerous blade around for Keona, she did mention that she would need someone to help her find her way without poking anyone. That was perfect for him! He was great at grabbing people's attention, and if Keona needed people to keep out of the way so that she didn't jab anybody on accident? He could certainly help with that.

He opened his mouth to say as much, but was interrupted by the approach of his mother, no doubt drawn over by her own curiosity, as well as worry over the appearance of a blade. Looking up with wide eyes, Roan grinned a little bit before saying excitedly to his mama, "Dia dhuit, mama! We get to help Keona more her stuff!" To most it would've seemed like an incredibly mundane task, but to Roan? He was still at the ripe age where any sort of change like this was exciting, and.he knew the feeling of moving places as well, what with his mother having moved them into a bigger home recently. He couldn't even imagine how Keona must've been feeling, moving into a new place all on her own, without anybody like Greed or his mama. He made a mental note to visit her often, just in case she needed company to stave off the loneliness.

The next to approach the little scene was Salem, and Roan felt his eyes light up as soon as he faced the other. He immediately recognized the feline from his first meet and greet, and he remained utterly fascinated by the gourd that was wrapped securely around his face. He was suggesting what they should do, and Roan found himself eagerly nodding before he could really process what was being said. He wasn't sure exactly what he was doing, but his heart was in it, and he found himself racing down ahead. He called off of the steps as he stumbled down them, fluffing himself up to make himself as large as possible as he yelled, "Guys! Get outta the way! Keona's gotta move, and she doesn't wanna accidentally poke anybody!" The kit's methods were blunt and messy, but he was getting results. Most of those who had been nearby in front of Keona's path looked at the boy in confusion, before they moved away, evidently either to follow his orders, or just to avoid him.

[Keona.]

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If I fall, get knocked down, pick myself up off the ground

She does not know when her muscles tensed.  Tail flicking sharply to one side.  Lightly, her head sways in movement towards different voices, ears perked.  Terribly over conscious whenever eyes went to her.  Independence warring with simple practicality.  Efficiency.  She hadn't desired help with moving, just with the knife, but she had a sneaking suspicion she'd receive both.

When a muffled voice offered suggestions, Keona felt something click.  Relaxed.  Roan moved straight into action with fierce enthusiasm.  The implementation of action settled her.  "Guide the way, Roan," she encouraged lightly.  She flicked her tail at Salem, hoping he could keep her from stepping too close to Roan while following.  "We'll follow a lil' behin'."

Thoughtfully, pale hues flashed towards Roxanne, guessing where she stood.  Uncertain.  Obviously, Roxanne could probably handle the knife better than her, but... She wanted to do this.  "Mahalo.  I don' know what else there is to do.  I don' own much."  Not unfortunate, but it meant she hardly knew how to direct Roxanne if she wanted to help too.  "But I don' mind extra help."

Everything said, the petite Dealer took the handle of her blade carefully.  Everyone's combined efforts ought to keep everyone safe.  With a slow exhale through her nose, Keona took after the first steps, cautious to remain well behind Roan.  Out of everyone, he was the one she least wanted to harm on accident.  A shared sentiment, no doubt.

✯ — keona sibéal ní faoláin. female. dealer of the typhoon. blind. rusty spotted cat.  ref. bio.