508 Not Interested

Giorgio stood up out of his seat, approaching the green-haired noble, "Worry not, Sir Tychon! You may have lost this battle, but this old man can keep you company!"

"I'd like to point out that I've lost nothing," Tychon furrowed his brows. 

"Ohoho, sure, sure." Giorgio grinned, "What say you to a round or five of Petteia[1]?"

The young noble sighed, a tinge of annoyance and defeat in his voice... "Very well."

...

⟬ Fifth interview: Ramon, Guild Leader of the Badass-assins. ⟭ 

Ramon downed an entire pitcher of water before wiping his mouth with the tablecloth. 

"Mister Ramon..." Felicity tilted her head, "What do you think you're doing?"

The tiefling gestured drunkenly to Coraline, "The uh... the interview. I'm here for the interview."

Coraline pursed her lips. She had interviewed the crew and the few others. However, she still needed to ask Felicity and her guild members about their versions of the evening's events. 

Ramon placed a heavy fist on the table, "Coraline!"

The dull thump surprised her and she shot an arm up out of reflex, "Here!"

"What would you say your biggest weakness is?"

Coraline averted her gaze... "Um... my last employer said I had really good attention to detail? But sometimes, it slows down my report-writing? It takes time, double-checking bad handwriting."

...And numbers that don't add up properly. 

"Good, good... That's fine," Ramon nodded. Suddenly his face twisted into a grimace... and he violently shook his head. "Next question, then... If we hired you, what do you think you can bring to the Badass-assins?"

"Hah?" Coraline tilted her head in confusion. 

Wasn't she supposed to be the one interviewing him? And about a different topic entirely? 

"Go back to sleep, Ramon," Felicity scolded. "You're drunk~"

"And you're ugly!" The tiefling shot back. "But in... in the morning, I'll be sober... and you'll-- you'll still be--"

Felicity promptly reached over and shoved Ramon's chest. The tiefling's chair slowly tipped over... fell... and he landed with his back against the deck... where he immediately began to snore. 

"For the record, Miss Felicity," Coraline bared her teeth. "I think you're gorgeous."

"Awwww, you're the swee~test thing, Miss Coraline," She smiled. "Now then, ladies, where were we?"

...

With the exception of Mister Ramon's brief awakening, the couple of bells, lounging in the dining hall, had passed by quickly and quietly. 

Coraline sat with Lady Lucrezia and Felicity, mostly listening to their lively conversation about perfumes, designer clothing, and gossip about well-known Tyrion personalities. 

She never really dealt with women who cared for such things. She thought of those people as elitist, short-sighted airheads. 

Most of them were. 

But that didn't mean the things they liked weren't enjoyable to talk about. 

⟬ Sixth interview: Felicity of the Badass-assins. ⟭ 

Coraline asked Felicity about the events of the previous night. 

She and Elladan were taking care of their drunk-- which was to be expected. 

Unfortunately, their alibi was as unsteady as most everyone else's. Ramon could move-- and even fight while inebriated. She couldn't rule him out as a suspect... 

She was, however, very glad that Ramon didn't have a weapon...

Oh! 

Coraline placed her hand over her mouth, stifling a serendipitous shout. 

The Blades of the Forgotten King! 

If all the passengers moved together... they could search the rooms for the stolen weapons. The ship was huge... but there was a chance that the thief stowed it in his or her room. And if Miss Olesya could use her detection tool to search for it...

Bleigh. Coraline didn't want to upset the Captain anymore, though. Maybe she'd wait a few more bells to ask him for help... and she'd make sure to be extra polite. 

"Is there something the matter, Miss Coraline?" Felicity tilted her head. 

"You're smiling," Lucrezia beamed. "Which one is it, then? The young master or his strong and silent companion?"

"What?" Coraline scoffed, "I'm not thinking of Mister Lone! He's not even that interesting."

Lucrezia and Felicity shared a meaningful glance. 

"I think we made a mistake rejecting Sir Tychon's suggestion~" Felicity sighed.

"Oh, it's not too late for our little Coraline," Lucrezia giggled. 

Coraline felt her blood freeze. Why did she say what she said? She wasn't even thinking about that person! 

"He's-- he's not!" She insisted, "I'm not interested in him, at all!"

"Oh, dear..." Lucrezia hid a tiny smile behind a finger. 

"I'm gonna go tell him what you said," Felicity grinned as she stood from her chair. "He's going to LOVE it!"

"No, wait! Don't!" Coraline snatched at her frantically, managing to grab onto the bottom of her blouse. 

Felicity giggled, playful tugging back, "Let gooo~ I'mma tell himmm!"

"Noooooo!!" Coraline pleaded. 

She didn't pull too hard... tearing her new friend's blouse would be terribly rude. Thankfully, her persistence made the woman concede and Felicity sat back down, her clothes only slightly disheveled. 

Coraline pouted... but she found herself staring at the end of a familiar-looking tattoo inked upon the woman's shoulder. 

"Oh, wanna see?" Felicity beamed. She adjusted her blouse and rolled up her sleeve, revealing a distinctly Elven design. "You should know what this is, right?"

"It's so pretty..." Coraline pursed her lips, thinking on it. 

It was a tribal tattoo, somewhat stylized for human hands to draw, but recognizable enough. It seemed that besides Felicity dating a half-elf, she was quite fond of Elven culture-- going as far as permanently inking some of it on her skin. 

"Oh, my," Lucrezia fanned herself with her gloved hand. "I've always been afraid of getting a tattoo."

"It only hurts a little bit, Lady Lucrezia," Felicity winked.

"Oh, no! It's not that, dear," Lucrezia's lips curved up into a sly smirk. "I fear my husband wouldn't be able to keep his hands off of me."

"--I've had QUITE enough of this, Mister Giorgio!" 

Tychon's outburst caused Coraline and her companions to turn. The young master was reclining back in his seat, staring at the ceiling with an aggrieved expression. 

Lucrezia let out a long sigh, "What has my fool husband done, this time?"

[1] A popular board game in the Holy Country