Chapter Text
In legend, the existence of the paranormal and ethereal is confirmed to cause detrimental chaos to all whose lives are caught in the crossfire. With Aliens and Spirits in combat to seize control of the Earth, it comes to little shock that the strongest of mankind can step forward across generations and defend humans from the occult threat. There is evidence to suggest that these souls are reincarnated, and that the partners who combat these foes are destined to find one another in countless lifetimes - all with the goal of defeating that great evil.
It is speculated that the souls entwined in this cycle are destined soulmates as well, though whether based in observation or wishful thinking, it remains shrouded in uncertainty. When it comes to Momo Ayase and Ken Takakura, however, it is true that this is not their first cosmic encounter, and it is certainly not the first time the two have fallen in love.
And so sets the stage for such a story - the story of the first lifetime within which they were fortunate enough to find love in one another.
The sun overhead burns with dull intensity; just as blazing, one would assume, as over the open sea.
A young woman, dressed in as modest a cloak as possible, curses the existence of the burning star above and curses her own idiocy thinking it would be more forgiving on land than open water. A bead of sweat forms on her forehead as proof of the midafternoon heat. For just a moment, the unassuming pirate contemplates shedding her disguise to combat her overheating. She scoffs at the idea and walks deeper into the market, taking care to avoid eye contact with various vendors and patrons as she moves quickly to her target.
She slinked off her ship this morning with one task in mind: find a merchant, restock her personal products, and return before anyone else even notices her disappearance. Though the captain had very strict orders - for her and no one else aboard The Ghost of Madness - to remain below deck while in any port, Marie Anette would simply rather die than go another several months without her own small set of luxuries.
It’s been weeks - months, more likely - since Marie has been on land. She contemplates her Captain's unusually sage perspective on how time passes differently on the ocean, how one day unfolds into ten in the blink of an eye. The young lady clenches the fist under her cloak in utter annoyance; though it’s hardly the fault of her Captain, she can’t help but blame the maternal figure for willing this perspective into existence.
Marie’s clenched jaw loosens almost instantly when she sees a familiar bottle - yes, the perfume that she's almost run out of! The merchant stands and waits pleasantly as a calming presence amidst the busy market. With some haste, she makes her way to the stand - with any luck, she thinks, the same merchant will have soaps, perhaps a new comb, and hopefully a small discount–
The young woman is pulled from her thoughts when her shoulder collides with a stranger.
Marie turns swiftly, scowling and frustrated that any self-respecting passer-by wouldn’t have the decency to move out of a lady’s way–
Her words are caught in her own throat when she stares daggers towards a young man, around her age and with warm brown eyes. His mouth is also agape and his eye contact remains unbroken. Hard as she try, Marie cannot look away. Every inch of the boy's face is familiar - from the short unruly hair to the thick glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose. Her eyes soften as she realizes that she’s seen him before, but for the life of her she can’t remember where , or when .
After staring for what feels like a lifetime, the young man says something under his breath… It sounds like a name foreign to them both.
“What?” She asks, her tone a tad sharper than she’d like. He averts his eyes and stares at his feet, which makes Marie’s chest ache in a way she doesn’t quite understand. When he doesn’t respond immediately, she harrumphs and turns with her arms crossed. “It’s disrespectful to knock a lady, you know. Watch where you’re going next time.”
“I apologize,” she hears the timid voice beside her. Though quiet and unsure, it drips with warmth and sincerity. It’s the sweetest voice Marie had ever heard, and it’s no competition.
Upon hearing the apology, she decides that her frustration an overreaction. She wants to apologize as well to the young man, perhaps even introduce herself and learn his name. As she turns, she’s surprised and disappointed to see he’s no longer there.
Marie takes a small look around the market, not wanting to draw too much attention to herself, but still hoping to catch that gaze once more. But no, the young man has successfully slipped back into the crowd. She curses under her breath once more, this time at herself. How could she give the cold shoulder to… a stranger, most likely. But one that she can't help but feel is familiar.
Marie sighs and releases the tension she didn’t know she was holding in her shoulders. She begrudgingly returns to her primary objective and walks towards the stall to restock her products. She thinks that perhaps the retail therapy will help alleviate the sorrow of a missed connection she wasn’t expecting on encountering this afternoon.
Marie practically skips up the dock with new products in haul. The shopkeeper was indeed a gentleman and had everything she wanted, and was very happy to provide a discount to a “Generous Customer.” She is proud that the trip as a whole was a successful one! All that remains is creeping back on deck and to her cabin without getting caught by the crew.
“-And how many times do I have to tell you? I’m not interested in mentorin’ another soft shell crab.”
Well, crap .
Marie recognizes the voice of her Captain as she starts her walk up the gangway aboard The Ghost of Madness. It seems like her plan to sneak below deck is out the window, what with the one person she’s trying to avoid standing meters away.
But perhaps that’s for the better; she’s awfully curious to see what’s gotten her Captain so riled up. Marie clenches the cloak around her shoulders and the bag of new products, then slowly approaches the crowd of crewmates to gleam insight on what exactly was going on.
“Please, Captain Alston–” an unusually familiar voice starts, but is interrupted by a shrill shriek.
“You dumbass!” The Captain’s voice booms right back. Even Marie can’t help but wince when she hears those cutting words. “If you’re proper enough to do research, you should already know I PREFER going by my title. You’re really getting on my nerves, kid.”
Marie’s gaze crests the side of the ship as her own eyes confirm what her ears suspected - the boy from the market is aboard her ship, slouched and defeated before an intimidating woman with a clenched jaw and a pipe between her teeth and leaning against a sheathed sword.
“Right,” the boy squeaks. “Captain Psycho, please reconsider. I can be a valuable hand on deck.” The leather of the concealed cutlass whistles through the air and the young man whips his entire body out of the way. “See? I’m a fast learner! And I can help with cleaning and cooking, and I won’t ask for a single coin in return.”
Captain Psycho furrows her brow, frustrated that her hilt did not hit. “Yeah, free labor you say, but you’ll be takin’ food and a bed from more well-suited pirates. I’m not a charity case. So beat it.”
As the two spoke, Marie had moved to peek over the shoulders of two crewmates. From her angle, she is able to see everything, equally enthralled as her peers by the argument between a revered captain and a nameless commoner.
Every hair on her neck stands on end when she hears that booming voice projected directly to her. “And you, young lady. Bold of you to waltz right back in here.” The gaze of every pirate on deck turned to look directly at Marie, including the cold glance of the Ship’s Captain. “You’re in a whooole heap of trouble.”
Marie gulps, the explanation and excuses caught in her throat. Her Captain is not in the mood to even entertain her.
The young boy turns and looks at her, and his eyes widen. They stare at each other once again, and no matter how she begs her body to look away she simply cannot. “Wait, you again?” he calls, and she realizes just how screwed she is.
Psycho raises her brow and props herself against the cutlass again. “Marie, you know this kid?”
Marie breaks the godforsaken gaze to look back at her mentor, “Aye, Captain,” she responds almost unsure. “We… ran into each other in the market.”
“The very same market I told you to avoid, I bet.” There’s the grimace.
“Well–” Marie finds her voice and charges towards the Captain along the path of parted pirates. “Yes, but –” She turns and scowls at the young man, “I recognize your face, which means one of two things,” Marie sticks her hand with two fingers raised into his face. “Either you’re a lovestruck suiter hoping to take me home, or you’re a spy for my father.” She crosses her arms over her chest, hoping the accusation will lead to some answers. “So, which is it?”
The boy’s jaw drops. “Lady,” he screeches in an incredulous tone, “We literally just met. I don’t even know who you are!”
Marie’s face turns red and her arms return to her side with clenched fists. “HUH? How can you lie so easily? How can you recognize me and not know who I am?”
His back straightens and his shoulders roll back as he retorts, “I NEVER said I recognized you. And I can say it with certainty because it’s true; I have NO idea who you are!”
Captain Psycho steps between the two, who have taken to growling and posturing at one another. “Both of you, knock it off. I’m so tired of this bratty behavior, and one of you,” a small glare at Marie “has no excuse for it.”
The audience of pirates settle on uncertain silence as their Captain pinches the bridge of her nose. Marie didn’t even realize everyone was getting riled up alongside her, but it’s a good thing the captain saw it and decided to nip it right away.
“Boy,” She looks back at the young man with unruly hair, “I have every intention of throwing you off the ship myself if you don’t leave. So I’m gonna ask you again, and I want no non-answers and no deflection.” She leans down so she is exactly eye level with those brown eyes. “What’s your goal here? Why are you tryin’ to join my crew?”
The young man stares back, and eventually he folds beneath the critical gaze. “Captain Psycho,” he starts, though he slumps further when her gaze challenges him to be straightforward. “I hope to find my father. See, he’s all the family I have left, so it’s very important I find him and let him know about my mother’s passing.”
Marie stares at the boy’s face. She knows with certainty that he’s telling the truth. She can’t explain why she believes him, nor can she validate that he’s the type of person who is always truthful. But she knows in her bones that in this moment he is being sincere.
And somehow, she knows that Captain Psycho knows this, too.
The Captain’s body relaxes, ever so slightly. Not an admittance of defeat, but rather an acknowledgement that she no longer sees the child as a threat. “Do you even know who your father is, kid?”
“No, Captain,” he admits. “I have only my mother’s account to go off of. But I’m hopeful that it’ll be enough that I recognize him when I see him.”
Captain Psycho sighs, hands her weapon to a crewmember beside her, and turns away. Perhaps the aversion of eye contact from the boy will make rejecting his request that much easier. “Sorry, kid. I know you’re telling the truth, but I still ain’t runnin’ a charity case. And I don’t have time to help you chase a ghost.”
The entire crew looks back and forth between the conversation, Marie included. She sees the slightest slouch in the boy’s shoulders, and before she can even catch herself she’s walking to his side and saying what’s on her mind.
“Captain Psycho, you should let him stay.”
The vouch seems to surprise everyone on board, including the stalwart Captain. She’s not used to Marie addressing her with her formal title - often instead as an “Old Hag” or a random slew of curses. She turns to look at the pair standing next to one another. Marie instinctively grabs his hand and ignores the small jump he has at the unexpected contact.
“Remember when you said the same when I asked to join? And look at me now, a valuable member of the crew. I think we could benefit from one more clean set of hands on board.” She peers from the corner of her eyes at the boy beside her, mouth agape and cheeks flushed. “And if not…” She raises the hand that isn’t currently clenched around the boys’ to point towards the edge of the ship and waits for the transfixed eyes of every crewmate to move their gaze in the same direction. “...We throw him right overboard where his lot belongs!”
This statement elicits a loud cheer from every pirate on deck. They hoot and holler at the idea of their Captain’s potential show of dominance, and Marie grins at the reaction. Her performance worked to rile everyone up, and she sees victory in a small smile tugging at the corner of Captain Psychop’s lips.
“Very well,” Psycho says as she reaches for the pipe still caught on her bottom lip. After a deep inhale, she pulls it away and points the mouthpiece at the boy as she releases a long cloud of smoke. “The boy stays, and you can bet your ass he’ll be carryin’ his weight while he’s on board. And don’t you dare complain about it, boy; you signed up for this.”
The boy’s eyes shine bright as the reflection of the sun on the sea. Marie has to look away, for fear of staring too long. “Yes, Captain. Thank you! I promise I won’t let you down.”
The Pirates start crowding around the young boy - to size him up for sure, but every pirate’s intention is to show support in the way they know how. They jeer, slap the boy on his back, ruffle his hair, and whisper small words of encouragement. They acknowledge life at sea is a hard one, but as long as he carries his weight he will be taken care of.
Captain Psycho turns to walk away from the loud crowd of people. Marie can’t help but feel there’s a large smile on the woman’s face, perhaps out of pride for her pupil’s ability to excite her crew. The older woman stops as she’s walking away, and projects her voice to cut through the noise of the crowd once more.
“Oh, there’s one more thing,” She says before turning back and pointing directly at Marie. “You will be the boy’s mentor while he gets situated. I expect you both ta’be at arm’s length until he is one-hundred-ten-percent settled.”
Marie’s ears turn red as the crew around her erupt in laughter and cheering. Marie raises her voice to object but finds her words cannot cut through the unruly crowd. She turns to look at the boy, whose face has turned completely red from embarrassment. The blush reaches her cheeks as she realizes the consequences of her actions.
This cannot be happening …
It takes some time to snake through the crowd and away from the teasing smiles of literally every single crewmate. Though Marie sees everyone on board as family, she can’t help but feel like the young sister that everyone loves making fun of - especially now that she’s being forced into her role as a mentor. She can’t help but snap back at a few pirates who jokingly refer to the boy as her “boyfriend,” which only makes the ever present blush on his cheeks deepen. Marie moves as quickly as she can away from the crowd and below the deck. She storms towards her meager private quarters and slams the door without a second thought. She exhales the breath she didn’t even realize she’s holding. Man, she can’t help but think, how did I even end up in this situation?
“Uh, miss,” a timid voice asks after a small break of silence, “Could I have my hand back, please?”
Marie jumps when she realizes the young boy’s hand is still held firm in hers, and that she's likely dragged him against his will through half the ship. “Oh, right,” she says with the release, followed by a quiet, “Sorry.”
Sorry for not letting go sooner? Or for dragging the poor boy into this entire situation? She’s not quite sure. One thing is certain; she knows that the young man has bitten off more than he can chew, and she’s partially to blame.
They both stand awkwardly for a moment before Marie moves to throw that damned bag of toiletries into a drawer behind a single bed. She slumps into the mattress unceremoniously and gives an exaggerated moan. She calms her breath and peeks through her auburn hair at the young boy. Based on appearance, he’s definitely around her age and about her height, give or take a few inches. He’s skinny - no evidence of muscles beneath his baggy clothes. Across his shoulder is the strap of a meager bag - all he owns, most likely. Nothing about this boy screams comfortable background. She wonders if he’s completely grasped the situation he’s currently in.
“Sorry about all’em, by the way,” she says as she props her head up. The young boy’s gaze is fixed on the small porthole in the side of the ship. “They are really loud and very annoying, but they’ve got good intentions. The teasing means they like you, so that should be a relief at least.”
He chuckles and turns back to the lady on the bed, saying, “I mean, the threat of being thrown overboard isn’t ideal, but that hasn’t happened yet, so… small victories.”
She responds with her own chuckle. She’s relieved that he’s in good humor around the whole situation. at least. She moves to sit at the edge of the bed as she surveys her room. It’s tight, but she can likely fit another bed in here for the poor boy to sleep on. It’ll be a hassle finding another one on the ship, let alone moving it, but it’s the least she can do to be as excellent a host as possible.
Marie sighs as she pats a spot on the bed beside her. He tenses in response and she brushes away the pang of rejection she feels from the invitation being declined. “Well,” she resigns, “This isn’t much, but I think we can make the best of this situation. If we’re gonna be close friends, we should… I dunno…” She trails off while she slides off the edge of the bed to sit on the floor. “... Get to know one another?”
The boy stares back before adjusting his glasses and coughing gently, “Yeah, that would make a lot of sense. So…” He starts, moving to sit with his back against the wall opposite to her. “... What do you want to know?”
Marie thinks a moment as she stares at the boy. A million questions swim through her head that she is confident neither know the answer to. “Um, I guess… I dunno, like, where are you from? And uh…” She hesitates “About your mom. I’d really like to learn more about what she was like.”
The young man smiles sadly in response, and he waits a beat before speaking. “Mom said I came from the sea, but I’m pretty sure I lived my whole life in Toulon – that’s about a day’s walk from the port we were just in. Nothing too interesting to share there. But…” he pauses, “She passed away a little over a year ago, and since then I haven’t had as much a tie to that place.”
The young woman sighs deeply, knowing all too well of a house not feeling like a home. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
The young man offers a warm smile. “Thank you for your concern. It still feels fresh, but I’ve been able to take it day by day.” He chuckles softly as he looks back at his hands, “You know, I’m pretty confident I’ll fit in just fine here. See, since it was just mother and me, I had to pick up a lot of extra work so she could focus on keeping food on the table. I didn’t really have a chance to be a kid, but I did learn plenty about discipline, and I like to think that makes me out to be a hard worker.”
Marie is surprised by his background. “Really? You didn’t really have a chance to be a kid, then. How old are you, even?”
“I just turned seventeen, ma’am.”
“Right,” Marie nods. She appreciates the formalities, though she can't help but feel uncomfortable with someone so close to her age being so formal. It reminders her too closely of the pedestal she was once sat upon. In time, she’s certain she’ll be able to break him of this habit. “Well, I’m still 16, so no need for formalities.” She ignores his objection and continues sharing her thoughts. “I think I agree with you, though. Takes a lot of work to be a full-time pirate, and your experience will give you the best chance to succeed. I guess I’m rooting for you to succeed, too.”
His eyes brighten, appreciative of the praise. She has a sneaking suspicion, at that moment of time, that those shimmering eyes will be her weakness.
He shifts into a more comfortable position and stares back at the woman with mildly intense focus. “On the deck, you vouched for me to stay on board - which I still really appreciate. But I guess, I’m really confused why . And what changed your mind.”
Marie wasn’t expecting him to look the gift horse in the mouth, but she wasn’t ashamed to share her thought process. “Well, you said you wanted to find your dad, right? It really spoke to me.”
Marie waits for him to respond, but all he does is sit and wait patiently for what she has to say. She continues, “If you didn’t pick it up, I’m the daughter of the Noblesse de Cloche back in my old town. It’s like…” she waves her hand as if it could aid at all in her explanation, “kind of like a mayor, but it’s closer to a noble, if that makes sense.”
The boy nods, eager to learn more. She accepts the invitation to continue.
“Well, my father and I never really had a strong relationship. As soon as I turned fourteen, he started seeking suitors for me and wouldn’t take no for an answer. My mother was the only one who wanted me to make that kind of choice at my own pace, but she…” Marie bites her lip gently thinking over the strained relationship, “Well, let’s just say she did it less for my sake, and more to ‘get back at him.’ Dysfunctional, am I right?”
He shakes his head and takes the brief pause as a prompt to speak up. “That sounds like a really difficult situation. I’m sorry you had to live with it.”
She gives a small smile in return. She’s so used to people providing validation to her parents’ poor behavior, and too often has she rolled her eyes at people’s dismissive responses of ‘They really cared about you,’ or ‘You should’ve spoken up for yourself.’ For once, a young boy - a stranger with no clue of her lineage nor upbringing - knew just what to say to help her feel better.
“Thank you,” she says. The boy is holding his breath as she continues. “What I’m trying to get at is that through it all I’m not brave enough to meet my father again and share my piece. But you are… so I want to make sure you have the chance to do just that.”
He stares back at her for what feels like forever. She can feel her heart thumping in her chest in response to what feels like an intense stare, and can’t help but wonder what exactly he’s thinking.
“You know,” he starts, “you’re surprisingly empathetic.”
Silence fills the room for a moment as Marie grits her teeth. “Ex-cuse me?!” she manages through a clenched jaw. “What do you mean ‘surprisingly’?”
He noticeably gulps, aware he has sprung a trap that's he’s unfortunately tangled in. It doesn't take long for him to feel emboldened with his response, however. “Well, with our few interactions… You’ve berated me, accused me of being a spy and a creep, made a big show of how terrible it is to have to help me out… I dunno, ma’am, that doesn’t sound so kind-hearted if you ask me.”
“Well then,” She grits her teeth, “How are you expecting me to respond? Sorry I’m not super best buddies with a complete stranger who…” She stops and the silence hangs between the two for seconds. “Who I… know, from somewhere. Why ?”
He calms again and stares right back. “I… I don’t know.”
“Right.” She scoffs as she crosses her arms. With a small wip of her head, she looks over her left shoulder out the port hole, failing to hide an indignant pout. “Right, why am I even asking? Since you said you didn’t recognize me.”
“...I never said that.”
“HUH?” The screech she lets out is far from lady-like, but she doesn't care. Her head whips back to the boy who looks equally annoyed. “Yes you did!”
“I did NOT! I said that I never said I recognized you.”
“So which is it?! Do you know me or not?!”
“I DON’T recognize you!” He’s yelling, but lowers his voice again and stares with an interesting intensity. “I just feel like… I should.”
She takes a breath and returns the gaze with a calmer demeanor. “How is that possible?” she asks as his gaze moves to his hands clasped in his lap. “How can we have no memory of one another, but… Still feel like we’ve met before?”
The room is quiet for an uncomfortable period of time. Marie worries for a moment that she’s being too pushy. They did just meet, after all; maybe it’s too soon to breach such a paradoxical conversation.
Before she realizes it, he’s jumped up from his spot across from her and leaned in close - Too Close! - to her spot on the floor. His nose is inches from hers and he shouts, “Of course! How could I have missed this before?!”
She physically recoils from the immediate proximity. She folds her arm over the bottom half of her face to hide the sudden blush erupting on her cheeks. “What are you talking about? And why are you so close all of the sudden?!”
He backs up a hare, accepting the gentile prompt to give some space, but otherwise ignores her questions and continues. “If we both have a feeling of knowing one another with no memory of it, that means we must have met before and just don’t remember it.”
She looks back into his eyes, shining again like light reflected off the sea. She’s never seen a single person as passionate about anything as the man in front of her now. “How’s that even possible,” she asks, genuinely curious what could be so obvious that even she would miss it.
“Sea Monsters, of course!”
The room is so quiet, Marie swears she could hear a gull shuffling on deck. She stares back blankly, so sure that he’s not actually serious.
But he continues, to the young lady’s dismay. “Yes, Sea Monsters! My mother told me all about them, how they live in the deepest parts of the sea and have abilities to bend space and time - it’s why they’ve never been caught, and I bet it has to do with our missing memories.”
“Wait,” Marie interrupts as she pushes the babbling boy away from her face. “Missing memories? What are you talking about?”
“Oh, uh,” he readjusts his glasses and gives a short pause. “Well, I just assumed that you’re missing memories, too. Maybe from when you were… Well, for me it was between five and seven… So if we've met before, it's likely you're missing memories from when you were between four and six. Does that sound right?”
Marie thinks back as far as she can, to her earliest memories. Thoughts from her past, of a young and smiling girl playing with a cat in a garden, drinking tea with an elegant maid, watching the stars shoot across the sky with her father… All the way back to four candles sitting atop a small and decorative cake. “Nope, it’s all there,” she responds after a moment of thought. “I remember bits and pieces from when I was that age. But… I’m pretty sure that during that time, I was nowhere near the ocean. At least not deep enough to run into a monster.”
“Oh,” the boy responds dejectedly.
She pauses and looks back at him. “...Are you serious, that you’re missing two entire years’ worth of memories?”
“Yeah, it’s true… Weird, right?”
She nods back. “Yeah, weird.” She waits a moment, “But I think it’s more like, weird 'memories being funky,' and not 'weird sea monsters did something to you.'”
His shoulders slump. “Maybe you’re right. But everything would have made so much sense if it was a Sea Monster.”
Marie mentally scoffs at the thought - that everything would be easily explained if only imaginary creatures existed, but she keeps the thought to herself. She instead rests a hand on each of his shoulders and physically feels the sharp breath he inhales in response . “It sounds like you had a really rough childhood, and you didn’t really have a chance to be a kid, either. So…” she shrugs her shoulders. “Even if I think this whole ‘sea monster’ thing is a load of bull, if it doesn’t hurt you or anyone else around us, you can believe whatever you want to believe.”
The boy releases the caught breath. “I get what you’re saying. But I’ll keep looking for proof that they exist. And…” he offers a sheepish smile, “I only have the chance to do that because you stood up for me. So, thank you.”
She releases the boy and waves her hands in his face. “It’s nothing, any pirate worth their salt would do the same.”
“Well, I appreciate it,” He reaches up to grab both hands with his own. “I don’t think the Captain even entertained bringing me on until you said anything. Thank you, miss. I am indebted to you.”
The blush on Maries cheeks blooms instantly as she pulls her hands away and hastily folds them in her lap. Her heart thumps in her ears as she recalls a stalwart sailor who said the same thing to her many, many years ago. A tall, briny man with a charming smile who once set her heart ablaze with a simple bow and a statement to show gratitude. That very same man is the reason she chose the sea in the first place; not just to escape, but to seek the adventure and romance that he unknowingly promised what feels like a lifetime ago.
She realizes that her actions spoke too loudly as the boy stares back in clear embarrassment. She needs to recover the conversation, quickly, or else her actions could be misinterpreted.
“Oh,” She awkwardly laughs to lighten the mood. “What did I say, please no more formalities. My name is Marie Anette. Call me by my name, if you please.”
He nods his head earnestly, as though to silently agree it’s best to move on. “Miss Anette,” he ignores her subtle gritting of teeth, “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Saulken Bristol.”
He extends his hand to shake hers, but she just stares back in absolute shock. Did he really say that? Saulken? Bristol?? He can’t be… “Are you serious?” she hears the question from her mouth before she has a chance to even think about it.
He retrieves his hand to scratch the back of his neck. “Yeah, it’s a weird name, I know. My mother called me Ken as a nickname, if you want-”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” her snapping response startles him. “I mean, you KNOW that’s the name of a famous pirate, right?”
“A… Who?” Ken’s voice squeaks in response.
Something about his face lets Marie know that up to this point he was completely unaware of the existence of the famous Sunken Captain Bristol.
She also sees the twisting of his face bearing emotions she can hardly keep up with. Confusion, dread, rage all bubble up and quickly pass… The way he now stares off into space is what makes her painfully aware that she's shared something that was very important to his quest - perhaps even important to his existence. And the gleam in his unblinking leer raises every hair on the back of her neck; she recognizes that these two men sharing a name is no mere coincidence, and the fact that he had such a visceral reaction to realizing this makes the boy before her dangerous.
“Yes,” she continues in a level tone, careful that the way she speaks does not betray the intense anxiety pooling in the pit of her stomach. “Ken, you said you’re looking for your father… Do you think it could be… him ?”
The boy turns his head back towards hers; his gaze, cold and sharp, sends shivers through her body. He is completely unrecognizable from the smiling and shy boy from before. A second passes before his expression softens while looking at the woman before him, realizing the threat they speak of is nowhere nearby. After a beat and a lighthearted smile, he responds, “I don’t know.” Ken takes her hands in his, and to her own surprise she lets him. “My mother told stories about the sea and pirates when I was growing up. She was definitely obsessed all that stuff, so she probably named me after a pirate she admired. But…” He tightens his grip as he fights to finish the thought, “It’s a non-zero chance that the same pirate she admired is also my father.”
The silence that fills the cabin is quickly - and thankfully - interrupted by a boisterous Captain on board, calling all hands on deck to prepare to sail away. Ken jumps and whips his head toward the voice, as if to see who is yelling. When he realizes that yes, the Captain’s voice is so loud you can hear it from everywhere on the ship , he turns back to Marie, whose hands he’s still holding. His eyes ask the question that he’s too scared to dictate.
Marie’s response is resolute. She squeezes his hands and nods once to show solidarity. “I’m looking forward to joining your quest to find your father. No matter what, your secret is safe with me.” She pauses and tilts her head, “I mean, you want this to stay a secret, right?”
“Oh, yeah. Right. That would be a good idea.” He uses one hand to rub the back of his neck. “Please Miss Anette, I need to know everything I can about him. If we’re going to meet, I want to be ready.”
Marie sighs and slumps. “Lucky for you, I know everything about him… It’s just a matter of when I'll have the time to share everything...”
It took some time, and plenty of bickering, but Marie is finally cresting the deck and escorting her good friend, ‘Ken Brine’ to support the ship setting sail. Who knew that the young man would be so picky on a psuedonym and so unyielding to make up a fake first name.
Around her, crewmates scramble to prepare; pirates pulling anchors, billowing sails, retrieving ropes and the gangway. An intricate dance of an excited crew, sick of the shore and ready to return to the sea.
“Boy,” Captain Psycho Alston calls, making him jump right away. “We’re about to take off. Go help the men release the sail.”
He looks at his Captain, then cranes his neck to stare up at the sailors aboard the highest yard, then stares blankly back at the elder before him, “Uh… Yes Captain, but… how do I even get up there?”
She stares back, dumbfounded. “You can’t be serious. Haven’t you ever climbed a tree before, boy.”
He turns to Marie, seeking guidance on what sort of answer the Captain is hoping to hear. Marie responds by puffing out her chest and nodding, a subtle hint to stand up for himself.
Ken mimics her - takes a deep breath, straightens his back, and rolls his shoulders back - then responds back a little too loudly, “No Captain, I was busy honing other skills. But, I’m ready and eager to learn, Ma’am.”
Captain Psycho grins wide, an expression that Marie has only seen a handful of times. It’s cunning, greedy, but overall approving. Marie releases a sigh of relief knowing the young man has said the right thing. “Looking forward to your service, boy.” She extends her hand for him to shake. “And before I forget,” She raises one brow, “Your name?”
The young man takes the Captain’s hand and shakes it a bit too eagerly. He responds in an unwavering voice serving to not give away his burning secret, “My name is Ken Brine. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Captain.”
The elder pirate’s grin grows impossibly wider than before. Marie recognizes the same smile - the unmistakable look she has when she’s got a winning poker hand. Captain Psycho was always a terrible bluff when it comes to cards, but that’s because she knows when she’s holding on to something valuable .
No one on board of the Ghost of Madness is a mind reader, of this Marie Anette is certain. But if she was able to read her Captain’s mind, she knows exactly what her elder would be thinking: ‘Liar.’
“A pleasure, Mister Brine,” Captain Psycho grants him one firm shake. “Welcome aboard The Ghost of Madness.”