The Wanderers' Way

"Some... Port Nowhere has always taken in drifters, refugees... It's where those of us who survived the crossing found out home..." He said softly, drumming fingers against his thighs. "I understand if this is difficult knowledge for you..."

She waved a hand, dismissing his words as she finally pulled herself to her feet and went to take stock of her own inventory. Being a deserter, all of her possessions were considered stolen property. She could make due with that. Afterall, Port Nowhere was a place known for deserters, refugees, and pirates. Surely, she could find a fence somewhere amongst its the drifters that called it home. "Will I need to make my presence known to anyone, or... at least meet whatever higher authority you might answer to?"

"Right now, I'm the highest authority you need worry about. Captain Wright is away on business, and with her gone, I'm next highest." He said, with what sounded like a hint of pride.

"Are you?" She asked, trying to locate something that might look even remotely less than noble. "And would no one suspect that I'm trying to... worm my way into a ranking position by immediately taking up residence at the second-in-command's abode?"

"You're in a city of pirates, sweetheart. Easiest way to take power would be to kill me, and..." He flourished his hand, summoning his keyblade. It was ebony black, with a purple sheen beneath it, and he dispelled it as quickly as he had summoned it. "You wouldn't be the first person to try."

She studied him for a long moment, seeming to think something over before summoning her own keyblade, a violin-shaped weapon that held almost exclusively the outline of one side and its long neck. The bow appeared in the other hand, string like a blade. She kept it in existence for only a brief minute before dismissing the keyblade. "Heart Strings," she introduced the weapon, late.

"Oblivion." He answered in kind, easing down back into his seat, looking at her across the way.

Seeming far from satisfied with what she found amongst her things, she opted for one of the undergarments she'd fashioned into a sort of slip for her dresses, pulling it aside before turning her back to him and easing out of the attire she currently wore. "What does someone have to do around here?" She asked, wondering at how to phrase her inquiry.

"Depends on what you want. The pirate clans mostly eat, drink, and do the sort of thing you'd expect. There's a courtesan's guild, so you can guess what they do. People in the slums make what fun they can, usually some random street fair every other week..."

"And to earn your keep?" She asked, baring her back to him as her garments slid to the floor. The tightness of her usually gown left her no need for a bra, so she'd grown quite accustomed to life without one. Slowly, she began easing herself into her thing slip, bunching it onto here arms before bring it over her head.

Grey cleared his throat, looking away out of respect. Still, his senses were tuned to her, should she truly be some manner of spy. "There's work in the market, work with the Courtesan guild if you want, work as a bartender...or work as a pirate." He explained. "We use a mix of Eunian and Kiran currency here, since we pilfer from both... So don't be surprised to get a bit of everything when or if you get paid."

'Is anyone picky about which is used?" She asked, fitting the thin dress into place and ignoring the plunge at her cleavage. Nudity and sexuality meant little, if anything, to her. She made her way in otherwise silence back to her bag, waiting for his response.

"Anyone with a preference can deal with it later, barter and trade one currency for another. Rule Two of Port Nowhere: You get paid, you don't complain about how."

"How long is this rule list?" She asked, finding a select few coins she'd stashed in one of the dresses, she flicked them towards the man. "Here's to hoping that will make up for whatever you've spent trying to keep me alive."

"Just 5." He said, handing them back to her. "At least, 5 official rules. Everyone makes their own list after 5."

She cooked a brow at their return, sliding them into a side pouch that she worked onto her right hip. "And those five are?" She asked, looking up at him from her place by her stolen belongings.

"Rule One: Port Nowhere is neutral ground in all clan disputes. Rule Three: You kill a man, he better be awake, facing you, and armed. Rule Four: Port Nowhere will not allow raids from any other sovereign nation. Turn back any and all raids for keyblade wielders. Rule Five: ...Don't fuck with Captain Blake Wright."

Rosaline nodded at this, holding back any joke she had for any of the rules, chiefly the last one. "Where does that leave me?"

"Technically, you're a refugee. Where you decide that leaves you is up to you." He pointed to the window. "This place was built so that things like who you were wouldn't matter... I was a slave, before I came here. Now I'm not."

Rose contemplated this for several minutes, starting off into nothing before speaking up again. "If we're frank, I'm not quite sure who I was before I made it through those gates."

"Who so you think you are now?" He asked softly, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall, staring out the nearby window. It had a wonderful veiw out towards the lighthouse, proviso g them both a small snapshot of the port.

She shrugged in response to his inquiry, unsure of how exactly to answer it. "I don't think that very much matters, now. I could start a clean slate..." Absently, she took one of the long side locks of her hair in her hand, staring into the deep, almost signature color of it. She had a reputation back home, several, really, when you thought about it, and so much of her appearance was simply trademark for her.

"You were nobility... If you left by choice, they will come for you." He said, as if giving voice to her thoughts. "We can help you change certain aspects of your appearance... We have our share of barbers."

Her eyes went to him, where she studied the man before her in silence for a long while before she finally spoke again, "How can I be both nobility and Mydarian?"

"How indeed..." He said, before studying her once more. "If I had to hazard a guess..." He murmured, stroking his chin. "Some manner of indoctrination... Maybe thats where all the others went..." He said, almost to himself. There was hope in his voice, and she could tell he was undoubtedly speaking of slaves he knew who he had presumed dead.