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Destroyer of (his own) worlds
Barrett nodded as Yarba answered her question, yawning and covering his mouth as she did. Yawning was, indeed, contagious. "Mhm," he mumbled, still a little shocked at her cold, professional demeanour, although as he thought about it more, it made plenty of sense. She certainly slept around, and she had things to do -- she would have been usd to switching between first mate and bed mate mentalities by now. Barrett glanced around the room, taking his surroundings in proper now, and found a room befitting the person it belonged to. He didn't see fit to take more than this cursory glance, however, and walked toward the door, ready to leave. As his fingers curled around the doorknob, he stopped, hearing voices.

Yarba's husky growl could barely be heard through the wood, but the other voice was clearer, and familiar. Who is that? He frowned, thinking, and then it clicked, even after he had stopped talking. There were some thumps, but only on wood -- nothing to worry about. It was Roul. Barrett didn't bother putting his ear to the door to try and make out what they were saying -- this was their business -- and he was simply waiting for the conversation to end so he could come out. He heard someone walking away, and then a thump on the wood, and he doubted from the tone of their voices that this was Yarba. Roul was still outside. Barrett pursed his lips. It wouldn't serve him well to cause trouble on the first week, and yet he would have to face him inevitably. Still, there seemed to be a slight cockiness that would be involved with Barrett walking out now, almost as if he were flaunting the fact that he had bedded Yarba in front of him. And yet hiding in the first mate's room wouldn't do well either.

Barrett rolled his eyes, gripping the doorknob a little tighter. Politics. I thought I'd left all this behind. He turned the knob and walked out, closing the door behind him and turning toward Roul, fully acknowledging his presence. "I doubt it's gonna happen again, don't make anything big of it. Get some breakfast into you. Work's more important than women." Barrett wasn't particularly close with him, nor did he foresee this happening, and so he simply turned away, making his way down to the galley to get his fill of porridge. He found the slightest tinge of embarrassment hit him as he remembered the markings of passion all over his body, and noticed some people staring, although his face remained steadfast and nonchalant. He grabbed his bowl of porridge, thanked Darly, and then sat opposite Gob, Len and Pimple. He was sure one of them would have something to say about the myriad, telltale marks on his body.

Mittens and Misty helped Darly pour whatever she requested into the porridge, and then helped stir it as it was heated. Misty seemed particularly happy about Darly's company, using every opportunity he could to get her to help him with things, and pressing his arm against hers whenever she was near. Mittens could only frown as this happened, deciding he was trying a little too hard. He would have said something if he knew how to, and he knew that working hard and being obedient would be more effective than fighting over her. He simply did his job, quietly jealous.

None of Jan's hiskrs had the time for such frivolities, nodding as Jan sent them on their way and only yawning and stretching once they were out of her view. They'd be properly awake when they had some food in their stomachs, and they were all very much looking forward to breakfast. As they filed into the galley, they were very happy to find that they were getting more than they had before, and that it wasn't entirely tasteless. Misty was still being very touchy-feely as he served with Darly, and refused to stop as Charky gave him a disapproving look. None of the other hiskrs seemed to care, though.

Jack was probably the last one up. There was a scraping on wood, even though there wasn't any wood around, and then a distant, echoing yelp. And then there was a voice. It sounded a lot like... "Monkey!" Jack was suddenly awake as well, and his thumb was still in his mouth. He quickly tugged it out, and wiped it on his jerkin, frowning over at Monkey. He then gasped, his eyebrows raising and his mouth opening wide. "You fall down from the tippy-top of the shippy-shop and only hurt your fingers!? I bloody knew it! They 'ad pillows!" He quickly stood up and looked down at the deck below. He didn't see any pillows. In fact, he didn't see anything soft at all. He turned back toward Monkey, looking at him in awe. This look quickly turned into a frustrated frown. "Nuh. I don't believe it!"
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The Black Ocean · Sea Travel and the Islands

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