𝔚𝔥𝔢𝔫 ℭ𝔬𝔟𝔞𝔩𝔱 𝔏𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔖𝔱𝔯𝔦𝔨𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔫 𝔖𝔠𝔬𝔯𝔫𝔢𝔡 || ƒeral x minccino

[ƒeral]

𝖅𝖊𝖑𝖑, 𝕮𝖔𝖇𝖆𝖑𝖙 𝕷𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝕿𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝕳𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕰𝖝𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖊

​

Clawed Reef Island was quite the spectacle year round. The island was sundered in near equal portions by four inlets, causing it to be vaguely shaped like its namesake. To be expected of course, pirates were not exactly the most creative bunch. It was not the biggest of islands, nor the smallest. However, because the terrain was ragged and heavily inclined, there was much ascending surface area to work with. Given the terrain, most of the permanent structures were built half-encased into the mountainside itself, and there were manmade steps and ladders to get by. Each of the inlets featured its own docks and ports. The design was out of necessity. Although there was an unwritten accord for peace on the Clawed Reef Island, pirates were far from the law-abiding sorts. And, if two rival captains happened to dock next to one another, then it wouldn’t be unexpected for one of them to ‘accidentally’ let loose a cannonball or two. Having four separate coves helped...most of the time.

As unique and fascinating as the island was, however, Zell was not here to sightsee.

No, the self-proclaimed treasure hunter extraordinaire was here on a singular mission - he intended to find a seaworthy vessel and a captain to go with it. But not just any captain would do. Like many others in their world, Zell had his eyes set upon the Cove of Alacine. Legend has it that there was once a sea nymph named Alacine, but she wasn’t just any sea nymph. She was the only daughter of a titan and a goddess, and she was so remarkable that, for her coming of age ceremony, mythical creatures of all shapes and stripes gathered to celebrate. With them, they brought gifts from all ends of the sea and earth, magical artifacts and riches beyond the wildest of imaginations. The next part of the lore/history/legend is hotly contested, and, for each person who might tell the tale, that person’s version differed from the next. But one thing was for certain. Whatever Alacine once owned, she stored in the Cove she called home. A hidden place shrouded by magic, undivinable and unascertainable, barred off from the world unless one managed to acquire the map.

But ah, if only if it were that simple. Alacine, whether in a fit of madness or altruism, had torn the map and scattered it to all corners of the world, known and unknown. And given what the Cove of Alacine held, even a single piece carried with it the promise of power to reshape one’s very destiny. It goes without saying that, where power was concerned, many a ravenous appetites followed. While the legend of Alacine was well known, most folks passed their lives never having even came into proximity with a piece, much less being in possession of one. But Zell was not most folks.

The enterprising young adventurer had already made a name for himself at age twenty-two. Cobalt Lightning, they called him. To the uninitiated, one might assume that’s a reference to his unparalleled speed in combat. And it was not untrue. But, in reality, the name had started as an inside joke - the haste with which he chased after the nearest pretty girl made even his dearest friends roll their eyes. But one way or another, the nickname had stuck, at least, within the Adventurers’ Guild. Zell was not a pirate and he doubted his name carried much weight on Clawed Reef Island.

But even so, it was hard for the young man not to stand out. He was tall and well-built, and most certainly not shy about it. His outfit was tailored to fit, a silver-trimmed navy blue vest cinched tight about his torso with crisscrossing alabaster belts. And, while he wore gauntlets on his left forearm, his right was left entirely bare, those pleasantly corded muscles inviting the gaze. His pants were similarly tight. But for the slight overhang of his vest, they might even border on indecent. His shock of blue hair and cocksure eyes of the same color were a sight for sore eyes, the same as the sharp definition of his jawline and his boyishly handsome features. And, though he was not as heavily muscled as an orc or minotaur might be, he was cut in a way that could only come from the an extremely athletic lifestyle.

His looks were only further complimented by that ever-present roguish grin, and, it took no more than a husky murmur here or there to get just the information he was looking for. It appeared that he was in luck. A pirate captain of notorious impeccable repute, known around these parts as the Silver Siren, had evidently made landfall mere hours ago, and had been spotted in the taverns. He had asked, of course, which tavern it was; unsurprisingly, there were quite a few on an island ran by pirates for pirates. But his informant had laughed at him. Apparently it was beyond common knowledge that all the more well known pirates favored the same shindig. A few silver pieces loosened his tongue easily enough though. And so, that’s how Zell found himself meandering into the Backdoor Sally’s with casual presumption, a name he most certainly did read into. He had never met this captain of course, but, unless his informant had been wrong, how hard could it be to find a succubus with silver hair?

 

[minccino]

​

Indeed, the notorious crew of The Woman Scorned, led by their pirate queen, Lucielle, or more commonly known as "The Silver Siren" had made landfall mere hours ago, and her arrival had been nothing short of the island's hot gossip of the day. It wasn't often that Lucielle showed herself on the Clawed Reef Island, as she much preferred to be sailing on the seas, never in one place too long. But it was about time that her beauty, The Woman Scorned, was due for a maintenance check, and a right polish for the rough adventuring ahead. For when news spread in the underbelly of pirate society of the Cove of Alacine, and how it was a coveted place no man had ever set foot upon, the silver-haired succubus knew that it was a place of her calling.​

​

This time, she had quite a few competitors after the same legendary treasure. It didn't seem that any of them had a solid clue as to where any of the four pieces of this fabled map was, and were mostly eyeing each other like hyenas fighting for scraps. The docks were quite abuzz with talks of this treasure map, with many walking vendors trying to sell false leads to the starry-eyed pirates who were green in their adventuring. The veterans knew best not to purchase anything, or believe anyone on an island populated by the lawless and cunning.​

​

Lucielle was one of those veterans, who knew what her priorities were, and was only here to enjoy a bit of outside company. Her girls needed a bit of entertainment as well. Succubi they were not, but like men, they tended to get a bit high-strung when without sex for a long period of time. So, she decided to treat her crew to a fine time, letting them loose like wolves in a corral of sheep and placing their purchases of men, food, or drinks on her tab. Her only requirement was that they didn't try to bring any of their lovers onto the ship. The Woman Scorned, as the name suggested, was a ship of an all-female crew, and it had been noted in sea shanties sung in taverns such as the Backdoor Sally's and across high waters that not even a man of an enemy ship could set a foot on that deck.​

​

The she-captain of that very infamous ship was now among the patrons of the bar, though it seemed that there wasn't a single man in that tavern confident enough to approach the charismatic woman. She was the picturesque icon of temptation, her breasts held snug in a black top that hardly concealed them, and her hips hugged by the waistband by an equally provocative, tight pants of glossy leather material, almost like latex. A longer, ruffled piece of fabric flowed from the back of her pants like a coattail, trailing behind her like a flowing fold of a peacock's feathers. The woman was noticeably busty, then toned where it counted, her long legs supported by stilettos as long and sharp as daggers. There were, of course, tales about those, of men talking about the succubus slitting throats with her stilettos just so she didn't get blood caked underneath her fingernails. But more than her scandalous outfit, truly her ruby-red eyes were the most enrapturing features of her visage, concealed beneath the wide rim of her hat.​

​

Though she didn't have company for the evening, it didn't seem as though the succubus particularly minded as she nursed on her glass of whiskey at the standing bar, her posture against that counter undoubtedly turning a few stares her way. When Zell entered the bar, looking as if he was searching for someone among the sea of heads, she knew she hadn't seen that face before, and it was likely that he hadn't seen her, either. Was he searching for her? Most likely, unless he usually made a habit of looking utterly lost in an establishment filled with outlaws who'd love to take advantage of that naivety.​

​

If he wasn't looking for her? He would by the end of the night.​

​

Gracefully weaving through the crowd in such a way that she approached him from behind once he'd made his way towards the bar, the succubus gently traced her fingernail from the back of his shoulder, all the way to the other, then tapped his nose when he'd turn. "Hello," she purred, her voice sultry and woven with an unmistakable Spanish accent. "You look like you could use a drink, mi corazón."​

​

The woman's vulpine smile as she leaned her elbows against the counter expressed that she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. She chucked her chin to the bartender for him to place an order for his drink of choice, her treat. "Tell me, what is your name?" her wine-red lips curled into a smile as she shamelessly gave him a once-over from face to crotch, then back up to meet his gaze.​

 

[ƒeral]

​

Now where was…? Zell looked this way and that as he made his way to the bar, searching the jam-packed place for anything that vaguely matched the description he'd been given. His youth combined with the platinum embellishments of his vest drew a few scheming looks from the more unsavory sort - it was easy to mistake him for an easy mark. And, while it was true that he walked the straight and narrow way by and large, he was far from naive. One does not become a famed adventurer/treasure hunter by following every false lead. In any event, the sword strapped to his lower back was enough to deter unwanted attention, for now at least.

But not all attention was unwanted.

The unexpected touch caught him off guard; he flexed instinctively and his gloved hand dropped to the hilt of his sword with a speed that belied any conjectures of inexperience. He whipped about, one brow quirked, but whatever he had intended to say to the presumptuous stranger died on his tongue when he got a good look at her. Oh. His eyes widened just a fraction, and he blinked when she booped his nose. Oh wow. Judging from the woman’s silver locks and exceptional confidence, he was fairly certain that he had found his captain. But, though he had successfully hunted down his query, his focus was elsewhere. Because there was hot and then there was her. He swallowed intuitively even as he mirrored her once-over with one of his own. She was exactly his type, but then again, she was probably everybody’s type.

But while he was unapologetically taken with her looks, he was far from intimidated. Zell loved a good challenge and besides, she had already been clear about her interest. And so, he flashed her a bright, undaunted grin, with just a hint of cute little canines peeking out, and casually rested one elbow against the counter, leaning his weight against it in a way that elongated his torso. He didn’t flex, didn’t need to; he was so built that his bicep bulged naturally. “Zell,” he replied, holding her gaze readily and with unabashed interest. “And I would never refuse a drink from someone so ravishing.” There were no discernible accents to his voice. Or more precisely, it was impossible to place just where he was from. Zell had traveled far and wide since he’d been a wee lad, and though he knew exactly what she said, he never lingered in one place long enough to fully adopt an accent.

When the bartender looked at him expectantly, he met the man’s gaze for only a fleeting second, making it clear that he was placing his order but, when he spoke, his attention was solely directed at Lucielle.

“I’ll take the dealer’s choice.” He wouldn’t be a treasure hunter if he didn’t like to gamble. However, as is the case with any good gamblers, he liked to hedge his bets also. “Something rum or vodka based if you will, not too sweet, and with a bite.” His smile curved meaningfully at her. “I’m guessing you are the one they call The Silver Siren, I’ve been looking for you.”

 

[minccino]

​

For someone who was known to be so deadly, Lucielle didn't give off that kind of impression at first glance. She was open to conversation, flirtatious, and easy-going, it seemed, with her posture relaxed and lips pressed into a vulpine simper. Yet, nobody but Zell seemed to be within breathing distance of her, the space immediately around her cleared as if she was the plague.​

​

"Oh," she purred, raising her whiskey glass to her lips and taking a sip of the amber liquid within. "Lucky me." She stayed facing the crowd, her chest slightly curved outwards while her elbows still rested easily on the high countertop. Beneath the ruffles of the fabric that flowed behind her, a leathery tail, sleek as a cat's with a spaded head, pointed towards Zell as if it had a mind of its own, then loosened a velvet pouch of coins from her belt to drop onto the bartender's side of the counter. Her girls had quite their fill of drinks for the night and she was certain that the jewels stashed in that purse were more than enough to pay off her tab and tip the bartender generously for dealing with the more uncouth members of her crew.​

​

Instead of playing the long game of cat-and-mouse, the pirate queen turned towards him, sliding closer until she could shade him under the wide brim of her hat. With her head tipped upwards to accommodate their shared space, her ruby-red eyes as vibrant as wine and rich as blood gazed steadily into his as if to cast a spell on him. It wasn't a secret that she was a succubus, after all, and every demon of her nefarious design had a way of ensnaring her victims, whether it be by their voice, eyes, or simply their aura. With Lucielle not quite lacking in any one department, it seemed everything about her was meant to entice men.​

​

When their faces were just inches apart, the captain tilted her head, her words smelling of apricots and whiskey. "Well?" she hummed. "Here I am." ​

​

What the young man wanted with her, she could only guess. This wasn't the first time she'd been propositioned by a man, but every one of them had different reasons to do so, some a waste of her time, others at least worth hearing out. She was interested enough in Zell, and how he may be of use to her.​

​

 

[ƒeral]

​

“Here ya go, matey.” The gruff bartender slapped Zell’s drink on the counter, too busy pocketing the pouch of jewels to pay him much attention. While the gray-bearded pirate was hardly rude to the treasure hunter, his attitude towards Lucielle was decidedly more polite. “Always a pleasure doin’ business with you.” He said, cracking a wide toothy grin, and spoke to her as though an old friend.

“Thanks man,” Zell offered, quietly, before lifting his glass towards the succubus in a jest of a toast, “and thank you for the drink.” He barely spared the glass a second look before knocking it back, downing the robust cocktail in one go. There was a top note of something fruity, a tropical blend of some sort, with watermelon at the forefront. But beyond that, it was all alcohol. Vodka and vermouth and something he couldn’t identify. It burnt his throat and esophagus going down, but he relished in the sting, expressing his satisfaction with a pleased little “ahh, that’s the stuff.” And while he certainly could hold his liquor, chugging something of such potency did leave him feeling just a tad light-headed.

Or maybe that was because of her, with the way she was but a breath away now. His gaze was torn between those hypnotic eyes and equally vibrant lips, desire misting his gleaming sapphires the same as how the fog of dawn embraced rippling waves. He licked his lips, but whether chasing after the alcohol or in an effort to wet his suddenly dry mouth, it was hard to say. He was only a hot-blooded young man, and resisting her was the last thing on his mind.

“Right, um,” a stammer, and his nostrils flared at her proximity and scent. It was hard to think about his chosen quest when all his thoughts turned toward the more lurid variety. His heart drummed faster, and his instincts urged that he bridge the gap and taste those tempting full curves. But, while this encounter was rapidly leaving him feeling entirely too green behind the ears, he was not so inexperienced to not know the steps of this particular tango.

And so, flashing her his best lady-killer smile, he stepped even closer and curled his free arm around the small of her back with bold presumption. He was content to simply hold her close, for now, letting her feel cool press of that smooth white leather gauntlet and his corded muscle beneath. When he leaned in, it was not her lips that he chased after, choosing instead to let his alcohol-scented breath wash over the ear not concealed by her hair. His scent would wash over her at this proximity, and, though it was distinctively masculine, it was not aggressive in a in-your-face sort of way. Unlike the near constant whiff of seabreeze permeating this entire island, he smelled like sunshine. Like crackling bonfire and fresh sweat.

“I’ve got a proposition for you that I know you’ll like.” He husked in a boyishly charming sort of way. “But I would much prefer that we talk business away from prying ears.” And, for good measure - “Business is always more enjoyable when mixed with pleasure. Wouldn’t you agree?”

 

[minccino]

​

Zell certainly gave off that fresh-faced adventurer vibe, a type she'd encountered many times in her several journeys across the world, and ruined, if she were to be perfectly honest. That overconfident move to bring her closer, and that bold assumption she'd go anywhere he pleased, were all just telltale signs of a man who'd not been put in his place many times, if at all. The succubus allowed it, only because she quite liked the scent he crowded her with, the intoxicating aroma of young musk enveloping her like a sweeping embrace. She appreciated his arms, too, her black, almond-shaped nails gently dragging along his bicep as it held her waist steadfast.​

​

"Hm, that's bold," she mused as she took a sip of her drink. "Let me guess, you wish to come aboard my ship." It was rare that a man propositioned her for anything else if not for a night with the succubus. She made no initiative to move from her place at the bar, not wanting to waste her time if she should be removed, and end up hearing yet another of those self-motivated requests. Maybe it was all the cocktail of drinks she'd slammed back that evening but she was still nibbling the bait, teasing it very much like the way her spaded tail coiled around the man's leg, sweeping upwards with alluring intent. "I'm not interested in money, labor, or fame," she said. She had all three already. More than a woman needed, really. "So what could you possibly offer me that I want?"​

​

And if Zell were to offer his services of the more lurid variety, well, she had plenty of opportunities for sex, especially on an island teeming with horny men who'd spent too many days out at sea without a woman's touch. She could very easily turn to her right and proposition another man to please her if she so wished. She was a succubus, after all. Easy sex came with the territory of being one, so much that it'd become dull to the female captain. ​

​

Lucielle didn't peel herself from the attractive male, though, instead toying with some loose strap across his top to fix for him, and flicking a tassel with her fingertip. "But I admire your confidence, mi amor," she purred, her hips ever-so-slightly shifting to press against his. "Keep talking." ​

 

[ƒeral]

​

"I would very much like to board you-" That intentional pause was accompanied by a telling smirk, his youth such that he derived great entertainment from ribald puns. "-r ship." She was most certainly right to call Zell bold - a treasure hunter never backed down from a challenge, and he was determined to board more than her ship. Although, perhaps he would have reigned it in just a notch more if he had any clues about the reputation of her or her ship, particularly its gender exclusivity. But alas, his informant was not so generous.

Her tail did give him pause though, but in an entirely appreciative sort of way. For all of his skirt-chasing, he had never fucked a succubus before and he found himself incredibly curious about the prospect of it. The thin whip was so agile around his thigh...what would it feel like wrapped around his manhood? That thought was enough to make him twitch, his all too eager cock signaling its approval as it began to wake from its slumber.

But however much all of this was riling up the libidinous young treasure hunter, it was not enough to dull his wits. He knew he had piqued her interest, and there was no time like now to reel in his prize. "Why, anything you could possibly dream of." He pitched, intentionally raising the stakes. She was so hot that there was no doubt in his mind that he was not the first man to proposition her like this, that neither his embrace nor his boast were anything new. No, to the contrary, he was quite certain that many had come before him, promising this and that, only to leave her disappointed. Or worse, bored. But he also knew that he was hot shit, and it helped that he truly held a pair of aces.

"I am talking about the Cove of Alacine of course." His voice was so quiet that it would be inaudible to all but her, even with enhanced hearing from certain patrons factored in. "And, before you sigh and dismiss me for another ignorant airhead, I happen to know where to find a piece of the coveted map." Pushing his luck, Zell brushed his lips against the shell of her ear and nipped for good measure. She seemed to enjoy his boldness thus far. "Take me to it across the waves." He demanded, but in a flirtatious rather than domineering sort of way. "And when I collect it and the remaining two, I certainly know how to share my spoils." She seemed like a smart woman, and it didn't take too many brain cells to count to four.

Was it unnecessarily risky to all but proclaim that he had a piece? Perhaps. But Zell didn't get where he was today playing it safe.