Victoria

As we walked back to the port, past the stone wall buildings and shops, Cyrus pulled out the clue he had found earlier inside Cardigan Hall. It was a scrap of white fabric, a dense material used for soldier uniforms and military garbs. On the fabric was embroidered a small torn logo. From what we could see, it seemed to depict a butterfly and a dove. This was slightly confusing, but I wondered if it would make more sense with the rest of it.

“Do you know what the logo is from?” Cyrus asked no one in particular. We all shook our heads. “The woman I spoke to said her son had gone missing three weeks ago. She found this this morning near Cardigan Hall.”

“Patrick must have ripped it off when he fought them,” Vincent said sadly. He seemed to revel in the fact that he didn’t go down without some sort of fight.

“So tha’s Baldys name.” I heard Cyrus mutter to himself. What kind of captain- Just. Cyrus.

“What are we going to do now?” Angelica asked, her black braid swinging back and forth as she walked.

“I know a cloth maker that may be able to give us more on the fabric. He also makes uniforms for the army often so he might recognize the symbol.” Cyrus replied as he hailed a cab.

“You mean Mortieu?” I asked and he nodded. Mortieu was almost ten years older than both of us, he had helped us out a few times when we got into trouble. Especially during the time Cyrus lost his arm.

Soon a horse driven cab pulled up infront of us and we all piled into the carriage. Angelica and I sat on one side while Cyrus and Vincent squeezed in on the other. Cyrus told the location of Mortieu’s shop to the driver and off we went. For the entirety of the ride we sat in silence, deep in our own thoughts or listening to the hooves of the horses pounding against the street.

The carriage stopped half an hour later outside a brightly colored shop with dresses and rolls of colorful fabric displayed in the windows. Cyrus paid the cabbie and we filed inside. A soft bell chimed when we opened the door and Mortiue immediately sashayed out into the front room.

Angelica and Vincent looked around the store in curiosity, having not been here before I assumed. Mannequins wearing suits, dresses, coats, and any other form of fashion stood littered around the room. I blame Mortieu for Cyrus’s ‘hobby’.

“Cucie!” He called embracing Cyrus in a bear hug. “It’s been too long you little rascal!” He let go and turned to me. “Vuvu!” He hugged me aswell, it was a bit awkward as he was gigantic compared to me. His head just barely missed scraping the ceiling.

“Vuvu.” I heard Angelica snort. I ignored her and took in how much Mortiue had changed in just the short time I hadn't seen him.

He was still as huge and burly muscled as ever but the lines of age had started taking hold of his dark skin. His usually bleached blonde hair was graying at the scalp. There was still one thing that hadn't changed a bit about him.

He swaggered out to greet Vincent and Angelica and their mouths nearly hit the floor as they saw him walking around in a loose black shirt and a short pink skirt. He had a horrible fashion sense, and the skirts and dresses he wore seemed to scare people off. I blamed him for Cyrus’s lack of fashion sense.

“Who are that delectable little cutie?” He batted his eyes at Vincent and he backed away ever so slightly.

“Him?” Angelica said, pointing at Vincent. “What about me?” She demanded. Mortieu looked her up and down, squinting ever so slightly as if he were having trouble finding what was so great about her.

“Darling, your outfit is horrifying.” He said, his voice suddenly serious. Angelica gaped at him, and I put my hand to my face to hide the snicker. “Marvin!” He shouted. An assistant hobbled out of the backroom, also, wearing a skirt. “Get this woman in some suitable clothes.” He told the assistant. He took one last glance at Angelica, “And burn what she has on.”

“That’s Angelica and Vincent, part of my crew.” Cyrus introduced them politely, completely ignoring the protests from Angelica as she was dragged off into the back room. He turned out his pockets to reveal the fabric scrap. “So Mortiue can you tell me anything about this?”

Mortiue picked it up and scrutinized it, holding the fabric within an inch of his face. “White mountain sheep wool, mainly used for army uniforms. About three years old, horribly made. Whoever made it was doing it on the cheap. The embroidery is machine made, using thread from the same wool as the fabric. The logo itself….” He paused. “Sorry, never seen it before.”

I let out a sigh. “Thanks for looking at it anyways.” I smiled and he engulfed me in another hug, picking me up off the ground in the process.

“How’s your business? I heard you have one of the best mech shops in town nowadays!” He squealed. “I mean look at Cyrus's arm it's a true fashion statement.” He stated with a wink.

“It’s a necessary fashion statement!” I heard Angelica’s voice shout in the background. I rolled my eyes, she really cares for her captain’s honor, huh? I sincerely hope ‘Marvin’ has the same horrible style as Mortieu.

“Yes, i’ works qui’e well.” Cyrus said proudly, as if he was the one who made the darn thing work. All he seemed capable of doing was breaking it.

Vincent was busy trying to hide in the corner of the room, afraid either of being hit on by Mortieu or carted off to the back like Angelica, I wasn't sure. “Vincent! Why ya hidin’ in the back?” Cyrus called out, completely oblivious. I felt like ramming his head into a wall.

“Yes, don’t worry darling, no one’s gonna bite. Unless you like that kinda thing.” Mortieu winked. Vincent paled.

I was afraid for Vincent, he looked like a small animal trapped in a cage, his eyes were wide as they darted back and forth between Mortieu and Cyrus. They both had sickening grins on their faces, their hands raised up as if they were ready to snatch him away. God. Gays.

“Vincent, how about you come along with me on my walk outside.” I suggested, he looked at me like I was his guardian angel.

“Yes, let us go.” He sounded petrified and his words came out clanky and stiff. I rolled my eyes and led him outside, shooting daggers at Mortieu and Cyrus on my way by. They pouted as we exited.

Vincent let out a breath when we got outside and smiled down at me (why am I shorter than everyone except Em) “Looks like you’ve saved me twice today.”

I laughed. “Mortieu is a bit odd but he wouldn't hurt a fly.” We walked down the street, passersby barely noticed us as we crossed.

“Maybe so, but I didn’t trust the look in their eyes.” He chuckled, I didn’t blame him. They looked like drug addicts.

We turned down an alley and held our breaths past the foul smelling garbage in a heap. We rounded the corner onto a residential street filled with expensive houses.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to live in a house like that?” I sighed, staring longingly at the tall white houses with lots of windows and flowers.

“I prefer the ship.” He stated. I glanced at the profile of his asian face.

“Why? It’s so dark and dank. It smells of gunpowder and smoke and sweat. And you have to share a room.”

He shrugged. “It feels more like home than anywhere else I've been so far.” I stopped walking and flicked him in the shoulder.

“Don’t act all deep and mysterious.” I muttered and he grinned.

“You saw right through my heart wrenching act of purity? Impossible!” He turned serious. “But really you should appreciate having someone who looks after you like Cyrus.”

I pouted, first Angelica, now Vincent? What was it with people and wanting someone to ‘look after them’ I just wanted Cyrus to let me do something on my own. And stop breaking his arm. But mostly to let me do something on my own. Though, thinking back on it I didn’t listen to what he said even when he was bossing me around so…

Oh.

“We should probably head back now.” Vincent said, I hadn’t realized how far we had walked. I must have been lost in thought. Meaning I left it in awkward silence, shoot. Sorry, Vincent.

When we entered the store, I averted my eyes immediately. Cyrus had apparently decided to adopt the store’s ‘dress code’, and was flaunting a knee length skirt, and apparently a corset. (Who cares that it suited him)

“Put on some bloody pants!” I screeched at him.

He twirled and grabbed Vincent's hand, forcing him to dance out an awkward, jerky waltz. Out of the pan, and into the fire. Mortieu looked so proud to see Cyrus in a skirt, I think he had a tear in his eye. Angelica chose the perfect moment to walk out in her new get up. She stood staring as her ‘honorable captain’ danced the waltz with Vincent, in a skirt. Her outfit was not as bad as expected, but it was still bad. They had forced her into a pale mint green dress with light pink and light blue leggings underneath. I looked at Marvin’s mischievous face, and wondered if he was seriously this bad at his job, or if he had done it out of spite.

This entire scene was one disaster after the next. “Well, it’s getting late. We need to get back to the ship before night fall.” I said loudly.

Angelica and Vincent immediately seconded my suggestion, while Cyrus stopped dead in his tracks and gave me the puppy face. He pulled away from Vincent, and clutched onto Mortieu. “But we just got here.” He pouted.

Mortieu embraced him back, puckering out his bottom lip in a sad attempt at a puppy dog face. “Stay a while longer!”

I glanced at Vincent and Angelica, who were both shaking their heads furiously. “We have a case to solve, remember. The disappearances.”

With a sigh, Cyrus resigned to his fate and said goodbye to Mortieu, who immediately began bawling. He did not, however, remove the skirt he was wearing. We walked into the street, receiving several odd looks from the nearby people. We ended up walking back to the ship, unable to find an available cab. (Or a willing one)

“Will you please take the bloody thing off!” I whisper shouted at him. He stared down at me stubbornly.

“Fine!” He began removing his skirt, revealing nothing underneath.

“AGH! Put it back on! Put it back on!” I shouted, looking away. Angelica, did not seem to mind. Vincent looked ashamed for his gender. Cyrus pulled his skirt back up triumphantly.

It was an awfully long alleyway, and it reminded me of the days of youth. We ambled into the alley and I couldn’t help but feel like Cyrus was an idiot for forcing us to follow him into it. I just wanted to go back to the ship, not worry about being mugged. Though, with the four of us, two with swords and two with guns, it might be difficult to mug us. A sigh escaped me and Cyrus looked over his shoulder, pouting.

“Every time you sigh a part of your soul dies,” he said matter of factly. I sighed in response and he turned back forward. “You’ll be dead at forty.” He says, and I can imagine the single, ridiculous, tear running down his cheek, and the quivering of his lip.

“Pssh, I think you just added, a few years to my life span.” I poke at him. I can see his jaw set from here.

“If you’d listen, I wouldn’t be.” He said, awfully grim. I scowl and look away. He can go take his orders and shove it up his-

The rest of the walk back to the ship I ignored my companions, preferring the company of my thoughts. Most of them consisted of memories. Thoughts of my youth and Cyrus’s incident. It was partially my fault his arm was taken from him. I didn't feel bad, maybe I should have. I did feel bad when I was younger, but as I grew older I learned to accept that it happened. Whether my fault or not there was no changing the past so I might a well move forward from it.

His arm was the reason I got into mechanics, I saw the first arm he ever got when he was thirteen. The mechanic was an old man named Hashito. The eleven year old me was fascinated by him and his work. I thought it was amazing that they could help so many people, and I wanted to be able to help Cyrus. So I studied under him for years until I turned sixteen and I started my business.

Everyone thought I was too young to start the business, and I was really. But Hashito had died the year before and Cyrus had gone to work for the pirates. It was difficult, especially without Cyrus there. I didn't get to speak with him for months until his ship finally arrived back in port. He hadn't even known I had started a mech business. I giggled at the thought of his shocked face when he walked into the shop for the first time.

“What are you laughing at?” Angelica questioned.

Heat rose to my cheeks, I hadn't realized I giggled out loud! “Oh, nothing. Just… thinking.” I replied quickly, gesturing. She shrugged and turned away.

We were almost at the port by then and the Victorrus was just coming into view. It was a beautiful ship, even if it had a sucky name like Victorrus. Who names their ship a stupid name like that?! We boarded and met up with the rest of the crew on deck. Cyrus and Angelica began speaking with some of the higher ranked crew members (it's sad when even pirate ships have social rankings, though a lot of the lower ranked pirates looked pretty shady.) Vincent went immediately to his sister, it was the first time I had seen her smile. He spoke quickly, and I realized he was speaking in Korean, Em listened intently and replied in Korean as well. She was soft spoken and her voice was light and airy, even in Korean I could tell she was speaking elegantly, it suited her looks well. Her gaze settled on me and I looked away hurriedly, skipping over to Cyrus’s side to avoid awkward eye contact.