Don't Forget Your Old Shipmate (Namine, Aqua)

Ventus was rather entranced at first. Between the food and the people around him, he never noticed Aqua peer through the window. Naminé had almost made it all the way to his table before she caught Ven's gaze. The boy was already excited, but seeing her made him straighten up immediately. "Hey, Naminé," Ventus greeted with a large grin of his own. It was always a good time when Naminé was around.

The question she posed for him made him laugh. "Not exactly," he admitted as he turned his gaze back toward the people. He lowered his tone, hoping only she would hear him. "I met a pirate once, in Neverland," he explained, "He kind of tried to kill me, but look at these people. There's real pirates around us, here and now. Isn't it cool? I mean, the best part is that I'm not getting shot at, but still. Pirates. I wonder if I can get on a ship for a bit. I've never been sailing before."

As long as he didn't actually have to do the whole stabbing, stealing part, he was happy to be here. He could always just fly away if things got dicey, anyway. "So, what do you think, Naminé? A bandana in my hair, a compass in my hand. I think I'd be a dashing pirate, don't you?"

Ven's eyes twinkled as he gave her a wink, then turned back to his food. He pushed his plate forward a bit. He hadn't been eating for long, and plenty was left. "Would you like some food? It's good. The punch has a bit of different taste to it, though. It's still good, but different."

The moment Ventus mentioned a pirate in Neverland, the girl found herself sitting straighter, keen to hear what the boy had to say about the aforementioned pirate. "Was it Captain Hook?" she asked, curious as to know whether the boy had encountered any issues throughout his journey thus far. At least, she would have something to tell Roxas the next time they met, wherever the boy was. She was sure that he was doing his own patrols throughout the various different worlds; there was no reason to worry about him yet.

"You would make a fine pirate indeed," Naminé allows herself to play along with Ventus, even though she truly meant what she said; Ventus would look like a fine pirate, although his intentions would certainly waver from that of what is expected of a pirate. "You'd just need a cutlass and probably a patch over your eye. It would make you look like a true pirate indeed."

The girl let out a light giggle at Ventus' humour. It was no wonder Ventus' heart had found his way to Sora's heart when the boy had just been born: Naminé had noticed some of Sora's mannerisms in Ventus and she wondered whether the boy influenced the way Ventus behaved or the other way around. Regardless, their hearts were full of warmth and light, almost comparable to the cosiness of Kairi's heart.

"If you don't mind," she took the utensils he offered her and begin to dig into whatever remains of the food, as soon as she gently put her sketchbook aside so that nothing would drip onto it. She did not want to ruin her sketchbook, not when it held so many of her hard work within its crisp white pages.

TAGGED // Ventus Aqua
NOTES // There you go.

Roxas couldn't say he liked Port Royal all that much. It was constantly rainy, and like many rainy worlds, dipped in a dingy sort of color palette that didn't altogether agree with it. Everything about the world screamed about its long lost, long faded glory. To counteract that, nearly everything was distinctly, undeniably alive; the people were chatty and the bars lively. Nearly every shop window glittered with burning candle light at night, painting the main street of... of whatever town he found himself in with a more fitting, beautiful auburn. Pulling his hood up while he still stood beneath an awning attached to the alley he'd come from, the youth gazed left and right down the dirt path of the avenue in order to ascertain where he should be headed.

Something about the world called his name as he'd passed through a dark corridor, but he couldn't put his finger on the sensation. It was more of a dull glow — a sheath of light, really, that caught his attention. There were a number of them gathered on the world's surface, like fireflies milling about a dark grave.

He hadn't bothered with period attire; instead, he wore the same white, black, and red getup that he'd been wearing since his return. It stood out and, as a few people meandered drunkenly by the awning, did earn him a couple looks. Rain continued to patter on the rooftops overhead, splattering against the ground before him with a vague rhythm that reminded him of the World That Never Was. Where, he wondered, were those other lights? If it weren't for the familiarity he'd felt in their presences, he probably would've passed the world over completely. In fact, there was definitely the chance that he could've been imagining things.

Roxas offered a mental shrug to himself, scanning the street a little more thoroughly. After a second or two of deliberation he darted out into the rain, making his way toward the docks. If there were any accommodations for travelers, he could find them beside the sea. Something told him that most residents of Port Royal didn't expect strangers to magically appear in their midst. He had to assume anyone else there from another world would probably know that too.

The walk only took him a few minutes. By the time he actually rounded the corner, the rain picked up and the crashing sound of the waves against dying wood became more difficult to miss... and so too did the world traveler that had been so kind as to precede him. She stuck out like a sore thumb, even though her period garb helped her fit in a bit more. The difference between her and the ugly men milling about around her was a subtle one: unlike them, she didn't appear to be caked in the dirt of mundane travel. Her dress wasn't muddied and her hair wasn't yet thoroughly soaked by the rain.

And, of course, she was staring through a window outside of a rough looking bar. If she weren't a stranger, she probably would've ducked inside already, more conscious of the rain falling from the damnable clouds perpetually hung over Port Royal.

Roxas approached carefully, stepping between raindrops with a total lack of grace that would've made him an obvious outsider if he weren't already one, and casually joined the stranger at the window sill in order to peer inside with her. He would've peered over her shoulder, but she really was just a little too tall for that, so he settled for peeking conspicuously around her, putting his hand on the sill a few inches beside hers, and taking his place as a silent watchman. He was sort of tempted to introduce himself, or to say something, but... well, he wasn't sure what to say, and he was pretty sure Ven would've done the same thing he did, and Ven was supposedly the sociable one.

And Ven, coincidentally, was inside, surrounded by a tide of unwelcoming looking pirates. Naminé was beside him, looking a little frazzled but otherwise alright. Roxas's brows knit together as he surveyed the scene, the knuckles on his free hand twitching slightly. Was she in danger?

No. Things weren't out of hand yet.

---

OOC: Going ahead and popping in.

Roxas saw his new acquaintance turning her head to appraise him out of the corner of his eye. Her gaze followed up the length of his arm as if it were a trail leading to his face, which she stared at for a little longer than the rest. In the time it took her to gather her thoughts, which Roxas assumed were racing through her head like comets across the night sky, the youth continued watching the showdown brewing inside of the tavern. Ven had managed to diffuse things a little, telling some story that Roxas couldn't clearly hear through the glass. He caught mention of the name Hook and something about a crocodile, but the rest of it was gibberish clouded by the wall and the crowd between them.

He shifted his balance as the other boy's story came to a close. The pirates looked a little less than believing, their faces wry with the sort of disbelief that Roxas expected of them. Ven didn't look like he could take down a pirate, much less a pirate with a fearsome name... but if they underestimated him, they were going to be in for a world of hurt. Roxas knew better than most exactly how hard Ventus could hit somebody, and the bruises on his ribcage from their last spar were evidence enough of the boy's deceptive strength. His fingers instinctively flocked to one of them at the thought, even as his eyes turned to meet the stranger beside him and her inquiry.

There was a steel in her tone that Roxas recognized well. It was the same steel he'd carried once, backed by a sort of determination that desired the truth above all things. More important than her tone, however, was the name her question brought into play; she knew Ven, which was probably a good thing.

Probably.

"Roxas" he shot back, his left hand falling to his side. It had been impossible to stop the surge of honesty before it fled from between his lips like birds flying south. Still, his fingers twitched, reflexively, ready to summon his Kingdom Key should she decide she didn't like his answer. He knew very little about her, other than the fact that she had blue hair, and that she... that she invoked a sort of familiarity he was sure he was supposed to know. Rain continued to splatter against the tavern's roof and the dirty road behind them, pushing a dedicated chill into the air that the youth couldn't ignore.

It was tempting to say more, to elaborate on his identity, but...

His eyes flickered back into the tavern's interior just in time to meet Naminé's even gaze. His heartbeat slowed and an instinctive smile tugged at the corners of his lips, falling away once she turned back to Ventus. It wasn't long before the smile faded, as if it shouldn't have been there at all.

"The rest doesn't matter. It looks like they're about to come out," he observed.

Roxas turned, hands off of the sill, and leveled his gaze at the stranger before him. It was difficult to place her and her allegiances off of so short an interaction. Some part of him wanted to trust her, implicitly; she reminded him a lot of a mother he'd dreamt of once, a long time ago, albeit a bit younger. For the time being, he resisted the urge to spill more of the truth. She knew Ventus. That didn't mean she needed to know him.

Nevertheless, that didn't mean he wasn't going to be friendly.

'Good to meet ya," he managed, sounding a little like he'd forced the words out. His heart was so used to the grinding of vengeant gears that anything akin to small talk was difficult. Yet, somehow, the gentle grin that followed came a little more naturally, removing a little of the tension from his shoulders and easing his reluctance. Roxas, attention flickering back and forth between his friends in the tavern and his new acquaintance, jerked his thumb toward the tavern doors. "Our friends are on the way out."