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

It didn't take long for Ventus and Naminé to make their escape from the tavern's dingy interior. Inside, however, the pirates continued to stare out at them, unimpressed by the distinct lack of moxie in the adventuring party that had just fled their grasp. Roxas could see them murmuring amongst themselves, and though he couldn't make out the words, knew that they couldn't be talking about anything good. His jaw clenched, subtly, but he tore his eyes away from the dirty looking scabbies inside of the bar as his friends took their places beside him. He hadn't yet gotten the chance to respond to Aqua, but that wasn't as important as making sure that both of his friends were in good condition.

Ven was about as cheery as ever; his sunny disposition cut through the delft filter laid over them by the weather. Instead of a reply, Roxas offered up a quiet, disbelieving huff that might've been a laugh, fighting back the urge to ruffle his "little brother's" hair all the while.

"You didn't tell me you were friends with a master," Roxas began, nodding his head towards Aqua. "What's my ego gonna do now?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, Roxas turned his gaze to Naminé, his cocksure face softening — for only an instant — as he caught sight of her up close. It hadn't been that long since they'd seen each other, in a sense. He was sure that they thought of each other often, but even as her blonde curls fell around her face he couldn't help but feel as though thought alone wasn't enough. She was the best friend he could've ever asked for, and he found her company particularly soothing. It was easy for him to see where he would've ended up without her.

He spoke more freely to her than he had to Aqua, as if the tension in his shoulders might melt away any second. While he took his moment with Naminé, he held the faint hope that Ventus and Aqua might find something to say to each other, mostly so that their eyes didn't have to fall on him.

"Of course," he said, proud that he hadn't let any dark fate befall the charm she'd given him. Before he could say anything else, a playful grin spread across his face. He couldn't help it. The shell was a token of their bond, a symbol that reminded him of the light they brought each other and their friends. It would've taken a lot to separate it from him. "It was a gift."

In the bar, the milieu of pirates began to move, following a particularly dour looking fellow toward the door. Roxas glanced at him through the window, his face suddenly turning sour. It was just their luck that their little reunion would get interrupted by some dirty pirate with an ego. His left hand dropped to his side, knuckles curling halfway. It would've been easy to kick them to the curb, but fighting out in the street, surrounded by all sorts of strangers and unknowns...

Wasn't worth it.

"We might've missed our boat," he said. "What's the plan?"

Roxas stepped in front of Naminé when the pirates filed out of the bar, their grimy faces lit by the lights filtering out from the tavern's bay doors. Most of them had a saber or two at their waists, strapped to their belts and aching to be drawn. A few even had flintlock pistols strapped to their thighs and hips, packed with deadly gunpowder that Roxas figured he might've been fast enough to deflect at a greater range. The youth's left hand flickered out to the side, ready to summon his weapon at a moment's notice. Aqua laid down a series of depth charges on the ground in front of Ven while he tried to shoo the pirates away from them.

A normal person might've assumed it to be a trick or an illusion. Roxas knew better. Marluxia was capable of a similar skill, able to plant little charges on the ground that would either detonate all over or suck the life force out of whoever was unlucky enough to step on them. Roxas's gaze snaked back and forth between the little landmines and the pirates standing in front of them, wondering how things would proceed. He needed to get Naminé out of there before any actual fighting started. She didn't have a weapon and he knew that Ven and Aqua could handle themselves if things came down to it.

Still, some childish part of him wanted to stay, purely to prove to Aqua that he didn't need to run. He could more than handle himself against a couple of shabby looking pirates, no matter how highly they thought of themselves. He'd done it before. He could do it again.

He shoved the thought down an instant later, quelling it with a deep, steadying breath.

"Let's go back the way I came," he whispered, backing up and guiding Naminé toward the way he'd come in order to approach the inn. Beneath his feet, the muck pulled at his boots with every step. Rain continued to pelt the ground around them and the awning overhead, overcoming the silence with a gentle pittering that grew in volume as the tension escalated. It wouldn't be long before one of the cocksure pirates would break off and try something dumb. Ven's words weren't likely to keep them at bay, and Aqua, for as strong as she must've been, didn't look all that imposing on her own. To the pirates, she was probably a defensive older sister that'd just overstepped her bounds.

With the attention focused on his friends, Roxas silently ushered Naminé down the path, inching backward at a snail's pace in the event that things got thick. He just wanted her out of harm's way — dressed more finely than he or Ven, she was definitely just as much a target for the greedy pirate crew as any of them were.

Naminé was, as usual, correct. They needed to go someplace relatively secluded so that, one, the pirates wouldn't follow them, and two, Roxas and the others could feel free to cut loose if things got rough. Fighting in the street wasn't exactly the worst idea, but with so many people around... well, he wasn't looking to protect everybody at once. Besides that, the rain was starting to worsen a little. As it intensified in strength, mist coagulated at their feet, brought about by the moisture in the air and a subtle darkness that Roxas couldn't put words to. Comforted by Naminé's hand on his shoulder, Roxas reminded himself of something he already knew.

Port Royal always was a load of trouble.

People were by nature greedy, but the trade capitol of the Caribbean was a veritable breeding ground for characters of dubious intent. Pirates and plunderers waited around every corner, intent on swindling would-be tourists and travelers out of their hard earned munny. With that in mind, Roxas cast a glance over his shoulder toward Ven and Aqua, noting their location, and then dipped into a nearby alley. He whistled sharply as they passed, glad that they'd only been a few steps behind.

Overhead, the pouring rain bombarded the rooftops, which stretched over three-fourths of the alley proper and offered them a reprieve from the downpour. A number of half-open doors and entryways littered the alley's left side, portals into long abandoned warehouses that the cobwebs told him hadn't been touched in weeks.

"C'mon," he said, leading the way through a particularly rotten looking door. "I bet we'll find some place dryer and safer through here."

Inside of the warehouse, a handful of low, diamond shaped windows offered him a view of the street outside. It wasn't yet dark, but the place's interior was cloaked in shadow. A few tables waited in the room's center, surrounded by open crates that smelled vaguely of fruit and dust. Roxas pulled his hood down and took a seat. They hadn't gone far from where they'd started, but that was the smart move. People with a reason to run normally would've taken off. More importantly, he was eager to take a seat and stop checking over his shoulder.

Even though he didn't think the pirates would risk following them immediately, there was something... something amiss in the air around them that he couldn't ignore.

"Is anyone else just... getting the worst vibe from this place?"