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"And you're oddly unconcerned by that fact," she stated, "Which would cause some suspicion concerning your belief of that probability."
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"And you're oddly unconcerned by that fact," she stated, "Which would cause some suspicion concerning your belief of that probability."
"It's always a possibility," he said. "But I am not that concerned because I know your crew respects and fears you."
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"Indeed they do. Both a curse and a blessing. They wouldn't dare eavesdrop on one of my conversations, even if it was about what shape I see in the clouds." She buried part of her face into her arms again, leaving only her eyes visible as she peered up at Anto.
"And how would privacy on a ship like this be a curse?" he asked, reaching for the stone again. His hands had finally stilled.
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"You avoid what you fear, no?" she questioned, raising a brow at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Well, I do not fear you," he said as he dragged the stone against the edge of the blade again. "Certainly respect you, but not fear."
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"Precisely. They are scared of me, so, therefore, they do their best to put a 5-foot radius around me like I'm some sort of walking nuclear weapon." She rolled her eyes, then watched Anto. "But I'm glad you aren't one of them."
(Nuclear weapons didn't exist back then, imao)
"We have too much in common for me to fear you, now," he explained, bringing the knife close to his eyes to inspect it. "We are cut from the same cloth. Speaking of cloth, do you have a piece for me to borrow?"
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(Whoops, then change that to explosive)
She hummed and sat up to rummage around her belt pockets. Once her fingers grasped one, she handed it to Anto without a word.
Anto laid the cloth on the bed and put the edge of the knife against it. He made a small, jerking motion, then set the blade aside and picked up the cloth. It was now two pieces of cloth, split clean as could be down the middle.
"Sharp as can be," he said, looking pleased. "Barely put any pressure on it."
(I need a ferret)
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((ferrets are great, but I'd love to have a fennec fox))
Fane smiled at Anto's pleased look. "Congrats, princy. You sharpened a knife. Just don't stab yourself in your sleep."
"That is why they are resting right here," he said, slipping his other knife from his belt and setting them both on the floor next to the bed. "I like living, believe it or not."
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"A shocking discovery," she drawled, then chuckled, "I would've never pegged you as the type to value life, considering how many times you've been yelled at for trying to get yourself killed."
"Okay, trying to walk doesn't mean I am trying to die," he said, rolling his eyes.
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"However true, you also got into a fistfight with multiple armed men," she pointed out with an arched brow. "I say that's trying to die."
"That was not," he insisted, crossing his arms over his chest. "I know my limits and I was not at risk of dying, even in my current state."
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"Mmmhmmm," she hummed with a smirk, having fun with teasing Anto. She likely had other things to do, but she was in charge of Anto now, so she could say she was doing her job.
"Do you wanna ask the fellow currently floating in the Atlantic ocean if he was close to killing me?" he asked, flopping down onto his back. Bad decision. A jet of pain shot up from his ribs to his neck, causing him to jerk slightly.
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"Case closed," she said, noticing the jerk and making an educated guess as to what caused it. "You just tried to kill yourself by not letting your body to heal properly."
"The ribs are from a fat fucker falling on me," he grumbled, scowling. "That was out of my control."
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She stuck her tongue out at him, then reburied her face in her arms. "My point still stands. You are incredibly accident-prone, and that makes my job harder. At least it keeps things interesting."
"Hmmmph," he said, scowling. "I am going to sleep. I do not get insulted in my dreams."
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"Until I come and haunt them," she purred with a wicked smile, a flash of teeth barely visible from behind her arms.
"Whatever," he grumbled, rolling onto his side and closing his eyes.
It took two weeks for his legs to heal. Two long, hard, defiant weeks. He still walked with a heavy limp and his ribs were not yet healthy, but he was just happy to be moving around without getting shouted at. Oddly enough, the captain still hadn't given him a role on the ship. He did not help with the carpenters, nor did he raise the sails or wash the deck. All he did was roam around the ship, sharpening his two knifes and looking incredibly bored.
"Fane," Mumchance said, walking up behind the first mate and tapping her on the shoulder. "Capt'n wants to see you."
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The first mate huffed as she drilled her fist into the sand-filled punching bag one last time, catching the swinging object as it came barrelling for her. She turned around and looked up at Mumchance, small pants blowing through her lips as she listened to him. She nodded and gave him a two-finger salute. "Alrighty. I'll be over in a bit."
"He'd rather it be sooner than later," he said, returning the salute before walking off. Mumchance had been doing a swell job of being second mate since the original died. He even managed to get Anto to listen to him, which was no small feat.
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"Yeah yeah," she grumbled, then unwrapped her hand wraps. Once that was done, she headed on over to the captain's cabin, hands on her hips and an intrigued look on her face as she swung open the door and closed it with a solid kick behind her.
"Come sit down, Fane," the captain said, his pipe at his lips as usual. "I have a few question."
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Her brows flicked up in question, but she came over to one of the chairs and sat down. "Oh? Shoot."