Chapter Text
The room, void of windows, left Jabber disorientated with only the sparkle of dappled light moving through water to guide his eyes open. The resounding beating of his heart resonated cacophonies in his chest.
Definitely not dead.
Jabber groaned, yawning slowly, knuckles rubbing at his face with eager intention to arise. “Man, what a crazy trip.” He swung his legs clumsily into a crossed position, opposed to sprawled out on the floor, on his road to the afterlife.
Gaze drifting down his wrist, he loosely gripped it between his forefinger and thumb. By applying gentle pressure he could feel the sting of a purple bruise that would manifest visibly soon. Nothing he couldn’t cover with a trusty glove.
The blood itself had clotted long ago, perhaps soon after he had passed out. Luckily, the wound did not hit his radial artery.
Lifting his gaze up, Jabber’s pupils bordered with a crimson glint, landing on the luminous being before him, jerking slightly more awake at the realisation of where he was. The cylindrical tank appeared even more sizeable and intimidating with the low angle he was settled at.
Narrowed orbs of cerulean lock onto his movement before he can gather his bearings. They perforate his face and burn into his incarnation. They seemed void of emotion, yet Jabber swore he could see the swirl of passion and sentiment deep within their depths.
The only sound that could be discerned was the wind outside that bellowed and whirled, attacking the hull with the residue from a light storm the day before.
After an extended few seconds’ worth of uncomfortable and curious eye contact, Jabber spoke, “So like, how do ya glow? Is it bioluminescence or radioactivity?”
The creature’s elbows rested upon the tank’s edge. It had hauled itself upon the vivarium and was leaning forwards ever so slightly, temptingly, as if to scrutinise Jabber before providing a sibilance of an answer. It’s partial upper body was revealed out of the water, awaiting Jabber’s next move.
The creature - presumably a man, or well, a sub-man species, now that Jabber was looking at him directly - naturally toned arms and a flat, broad chest speckled with an arrangement of subdued freckles and water droplets, as it, he had propped himself up on the rim of the tank to peer down at Jabber. Not a hint of cowardice gleamed in those eyes.
It left his tongue devastatingly dry.
Summoning enough strength to haul himself up on his feet, and inched forward ever so slightly with only the scuff of his boots.
Jabber simpered, “So, ya wouldn't mind if I took a couple of those scales, would ya?”
A resounding snarl erupted from the startled creature’s ashen throat, threateningly low and territorial. Lips reeled back to reveal sharp fangs in place of canines, a dainty shine with the cerulean luminescence reflecting off the calm water. His tail lashed in the water, dislodging the surface tension and plundering sea foam to bubble out of the tank and leave a wintry soak in Jabber’s boots.
“Alright, alright! I know you're both bark and bite; ya don’t gotta’ go warnin’ me twice.” Jabber’s hands fly up swiftly in a defensive and yet honest manner, taking a rueful step back. An act that astonished even Jabber himself at how quickly he retracted the statement.
The creature settled down only briskly, and for a fleeting moment, Jabber felt a blossom of hope borne in his chest. He swore to see a flash of sensitivity and ease wash over the creature’s face, or perhaps it was confusion at the instant action of obedience from Jabber.
“Apprehensive much?”
The illustrious tail swayed and glowered as if in taunting at such a question. The creature tilted his head with challenge.
“Or do ya just not speak my language?”
The creature tilted his head further to the right, his brow still furrowed, and scowls permanently etched into his expression. The beads of water dripped from the blonde silk of his hair onto the fin of his ear, the quill twinging slightly under the pressure.
Upon closer inspection, what Jabber had assumed to be the casting of proficient shadows appeared truthfully as the product of two-toned hair. The rich brown undertones provided a soft, cooling effect against the creature’s pale, delicate skin, whilst the golden heightened his fair glare. Gorgeous.
Jabber exhaled a shaky breath, angling his head to stretch his neck and crack his back. “So, I’ve gotta’ go,” he rolled his shoulders back, “and pretty sure Cthoni is gonna’ want some help with dockin’.”
Staggering to a stand, he dusted off his dusty trousers, meticulously flicking off the odd patches of lint and dust that had seemed to cling desperately to the cloth. “Ya really are splendid on the eyes, I will say-”
“Fuck you.”
The voice, resounding and clear as crystal, struck him with the force of a cascading waterfall. A spectral chill sped through his spinal cord, and he froze evanescently with the intensity of the cavernous tone.
For an acute second, Jabber doubted the sound was even pronounced; it was an imitation of profound intimacy he had imagined and had manifested aloud.
Jabber’s head turned mechanically upward towards the source, jaw unhinged. Locking eyes with the glowering beast’s scowl, he found pure and unadulterated hatred igniting them. There was no mistaking the burning harmonic that had come from the creature.
A rigid tension settled precariously, and if Jabber were to flick the rapier out from his waisted leather belt, it would cut instantly. Only the laborious wind that bellowed outside could be heard.
He could speak. He could speak English.
Jabber’s face suddenly contorted, twitching eyebrows drawing together and lips curling into a grin of pure, unadulterated delight. A sudden wheeze distorted into a hefty, boisterous laugh, and soon, Jabber was clutching his linen sides, chest heaving erratically and shoulders convulsing wildly.
He could sense the aversion and displeasurable gaze that bore wounds into his being from the only other source possible. The vexation was radiating almost as powerfully as the luminosity flooding the cabin.
Regaining his composure, Jabber coughed out a light chuckle and leaned back on his heels with a contented, bordering on relieved, sigh.
“It’s been real nice meetin’ ya Mr Bad Attitude.” Jabber indulgently swayed into a graceless bow, right hand curving along the angle of his broad chest with the other resting behind his back in a humorous manner. He whipped his head up abruptly.
A pulse of dashing water was heard ahead of him, signifying the creature’s sudden startle at the mortifying eye contact Jabber threatened. A searching pair of vermillion irises plundered the radiance of another’s.
“I assure ya, we will meet again shortly.” Clinching his posture, Jabber turned on his heel, restored the stained curtain to its place, and wandered back the way he had come, sparing no glances at the surrounding tanks.
Taking refuge in the early hours of the morning, Jabber’s absence from his quarters had remained undetected, and by the time the sun had come up to claim the dawn’s paintings, a new lock had been replaced and a key crafted to match with identical precision.
Now, midday has just about arrived with the promise of dry, stationary land. The Raider had relentlessly thundered on for a prolonged couple of months, leaving them desert dry on resources and a protracted parchment of restocks as far as the eye could see.
Jabber feasibly wondered if the shopping spree would endorse thievery this time. In their last few raids, the crew had picked up more than sufficient coin and riches to pay for their basic needs, and Zodyl often endorsed their reputation, but Jabber could not deny it was a fun pastime.
The cracking sound of a shout and whipping of preparing of dock lines on the bow and stern led Jabber’s thoughts to a halt. A trace of excitement could be subtracted from his veins, coursing idly.
Jabber had never harboured a preference for his footing, but the crowded hustle of a town came with the sweet smell of irresistible, freshly baked doucette and trifles. Jabber always made sure to bring back some of these delicacies to devour on the water’s waves. Although they did not keep well. He ought to find a solution, or he dreaded that eating expired creams might catch up to him eventually.
The aromatic silver-green foliage covered the stone archway of the entrance, their elaborate ship squeezing through leisurely yet eagerly. An earthy scent drifted downcast from the groping vines to tickle Jabber’s nose. Oak boards creaked under Jabber’s weight as he approached the deck’s edge. They docked hesitantly into the back harbour of the quaint town, yet the bustling sound of a busy day ahead vibrated resonantly in the air.
A rigid convulsion of the boat signified its cessation of movement for the time being. Distant yelling to secure the ropes and a jingle of a mooring could be heard to his right. To his left, a brisk thud and a rumble of low voices. Making his way over, he spied Cthoni, who had leapt off the boat before the gangplank was lowered.
What a splendid idea.
With a sturdy hand on the gunwale, a swift swing of his legs and a precarious tumble, Jabber had successfully made it down onto the stone-paved edge.
Cthoni pivoted around at the reverberation of the tumultuous landing and eyed him wearily as he approached. She slipped the man she was conversing with a cloth pouch and dismissed him to assist with the tedious berthing.
Falling in next to Cthoni, he attempts to pry, “So, why isn’t our captain out and about today?”
“He’s taking care of something.”
They stroll step for step around the bulk of the hull until they reach the starboard side.
“On the ship?”
They had moved to supervise the foremast men carrying the now weightless, sun-bleached barrels getting rolled off the darkened gangplank in preparation for a restock of dried meats and fresh water supply.
“Yes, Jabber.” She exasperatedly sighed. “Look, we don’t have time for your dilly-dally today, okay? Here.”
Grabbing his hand haphazardly, Cthoni shoved a few burnished but battered gold and silver pieces into it, complete with an ink scribbled parchment. Jabber cocked an eyebrow at the action.
“We have a limited amount of time here; captain wants to leave before sundown. So, I need you to pull your weight this time.” Cthoni suspired tiredly, shimmering buttons of her coat clacking against each other as she extended an arm to rub at a bit of charcoal grime left on her face.
She must’ve retired long past midnight. Now that Jabber towered over her, he could define sunken eyes and drooping eyelids.
“I always pull ma’ weight!”
Cthoni shoots him an unimpressed look. “Just get what is on the list and spare the rest for yourself.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Jabber shoved the quids in his well-worn leather pouch and ardently waltzed off, spirited at the release of freedom. The ship was an exemplary hideaway for his neurotoxin research, but Jabber feared that being cooped up in dingy, terribly lit quarters for a prolonged span of months had gotten the better of him. He could benefit from a congealed amble in the blinding sunlight.
“Be back by sundown!” He heard Cthoni yowl at his turned figure.
Without breaking his saunter, Jabber raised a relaxed hand in a dismissive manner to lazily signify an understanding, and continued down the beaming path. His mahogany boots clacked against the smoky stone that overran with rambling, verdant vines.
The thrilling atmosphere radiated around him, and with a refreshed bounce in his step, a genuine smile graced Jabber’s face. Much more colour was exhibited in the lively town rather than in the dreary sea-blue tonal range of the ocean landscape.
Jabber turned left, where the squeak of a metal sign that read “ville ouest” in dusty, bold cursive sung a harmonic tune in the wind, strewn wind chimes dangling daintily off it.
He embraced the rumbles and snorts of busy passersby with a delighted energy. A flute-heavy instrumental melody with a hint of fiddle and the soft beating of a drum steered him into an alleyway adorned with beautiful cotton organdy and shimmery silks for a silver piece. An etch of an artist’s pencil could be distinguished in the backing track of everything, flicks of creativity spurting flamboyance to disseminate in the air.
Vivid grapes hung from artificial vinery to imitate a natural habitat, whilst other booths settled their vibrant stone fruit down on the counter, with vivid citrus left to bake in baskets ready for a quick pick-up. The sun cast its warmth and speckled the lavish and eccentric tents of sellers.
Gold and silver jewellery with embedded jewels lay delicately on display in every crevice of the table’s enlightenment. Ladies, from old to young beckoned buyers in for a closer look, anticipating a worthy sale.
The dolce scent of rich caramel attracted Jabber like a moth to an affluent flame, as the subtle aroma of fresh Chantilly cream wafted from a nearby bakery.
So, maybe Jabber did have a preference for the warmth of land.
The soft jingle of a bell announced Jabber’s unsurprising entrance. If his memory did not fail him, The Raider had docked at this town before; the overgrown foliage screamed in need of a clipping but added to the cosy and comforting aesthetic nonetheless, whilst the twists and turns of the alleyways seemed all so familiar. But Jabber’s suspicion was assured when he set foot into the bakery and was struck by the recognisable layout.
Freshly baked goods stacked the shelves, with a notable line of customers awaiting their turn to spend. The gingery panels of wood in the compact establishment emphasised the luxurious golden brown bread and selected pastries that sit behind glassed counters.
Jabber picked out a couple of mouth watering treats, before paying kindly and taking his leave, hoping that perhaps one or two would be able to endure the rough sea a little longer than the rest.
Hands expectantly full and pockets run dry of coins, Jabber maunders back to the ship, passing closing stalls as twilight encroaches on the sky. He tentatively shuffles the taupe bags of odd supplies in his arms, careful not to drop anything as he almost trips on a loose gravelly stone, before a flash of blue catches his eye. He hesitates before halting to a stop.
Polished arduously, a resplendent ultramarine sapphire, glinting in the effects of the last light’s complementary amber hues, perched charily on a velveted cushion.
The jewel’s cerulean tones swirled in a deep spiral like a rapid whirlpool he had seen before in the form of azure orbs.
The cut reminded him of a mitre shell, with its slightly buffed-out, rounded edges that narrow down at the other end, attached to a slender golden chain.
It was gorgeous.
Jabber’s was unaware of how long he had been locked in a trance staring at it, eyes trained to follow every sparkle, until a cheery voice spoke out, ”It’s not as big as the French Blue, but I think the colour is magnifique!”
He snapped up at the voice and peered down at the woman. She was young. much too young to be running a booth with such an expensive itinerary, and her coral eyes sparkled almost as vividly as the gem’s. Dressed in a faint blue cloak, the dusty hood appeared to have atrocious needlework with sewn-on ears seemingly to imitate an animal’s. Although it posed a mystery to Jabber as to which. Two crossing, canary yellow strings and considerably sized buttons embellished the fabric on each side, mimicking eyeballs.
“French Blue?”
She beamed excitedly at the stranger. “You know, like the grande one! I’ve heard Bro parler all about it. French Blue this, French Blue that, French Blue here and French Blue everywhere!”
“Ah, ‘course! The large one.” Jabber let out a coarse, confused chuckle. “And where’s ya brother now?”
“He is not my brother, bêtise; he is my papa.” She planted her hands to her hips defiantly and puffed out her chest proudly, faded hooded ears bouncing.
Jabber felt his eye convulse. He is not about to be on the receiving end of a furious Cthoni due to a child’s misunderstanding of familial relations.
“That’s totally fantastic, kid.” He returned her smiles with a dashing grin of his own. “And this was an enlightenin’ conversation, but I got’s ta’ go now. See ya!” He swivelled around dramatically, beige parchment bags teetering at the startling movement.
“Wait, attendez, wait!”
Jabber amusedly turned once more, angling his head to the side and raising an inquisitive eyebrow, dreadlocks spilling over his back and swaying softly with the gesture. The sun had already started slipping into the cotton clouds, and he could already feel Cthoni’s unimpressed glower.
“Please, Monsieur, take it.” She lifted the necklace off of its dainty posture and raised it to him. It scintillated temptingly in the blade of sunlight that danced upon it.
“No can do, little lady. I’m sorta lackin’ in the leatha’ pouch, today.” He flashes her a cheeky yet apologetic smile. Stealing from a child is off the agenda today.
“Well, Bro is always saying that our job is to put a smile on customers’ faces, to keep their happiness in our own hearts when they make a purchase.” Jabber blinked at her in astonishment. Seeing his apprehension, she merrily continued, “Plus, I have never seen anyone look at a necklace with such admiration and amour before. You simply must take it; it complements you perfectly.”
Jabber deliberated for an obtuse moment. “Well, if ya insist.” He transferred the bags to one arm, “Then I don’t mind if I do, little lady,” reaching out his spare hand for the pendant to drop with an audible tink, the weight welcome and comforting in his grasp.
Flicking open his rough pouch, Jabber swiftly pocketed the jewel, dismissing the dreaded thought of losing it. “Thank ya loads! I’ll make sure to come back next time I’m in town.”
“Of course! I’ll be waiting!” She buoyantly waved both her arms goodbye as Jabber set off into the setting sun, humming blithely with the weight of the jewel, hefty in his pouch.
By the time he reached the boat, the sun had long since sunken into the sea and dusk had awakened, but Jabber could not feel a sibilance of guilt as he boarded the ship after curfew.
Stars twinkled idly in the high purple sky, and on the waters they appeared deftly bright, although Jabber began to think that the eloquent sapphire had shone brighter that day.