[Voice/Action to Spades]

[haruta_xii]

[She's been somber lately. Spades might have noticed she and Namur had been being very passive aggressive at each other for a week or so before he left. And with Namur AND Thatch missing, as well as others, well, she's been going through the motions of work and not so chatty.]

How many crews out there are missing people? [she's clue hunting. Maybe it's a new event. A new shitty thin that Jones is doing to them.] I know a few crews are ...having this problem and I'm curious to when and how.

That's all. Nothing mysterious. I just want to know what we're dealing with here. We got new people coming in, but we lost a lot of people recently too. Why.

And... welcome, to those of you who are new. Fair winds at your back.

[To Spades, she could be found on the moon, journal beside her as she sharpens and polishes her sword while keeping look out for now.]

Comments

[thatched]

Red bird song, damnit. [this was getting frustrating. He couldn't find the words and the footsteps were coming closer] like we learned. [and he whistles the half but it's jumbled and broken]

[fierybluebird]

Understood.

Go.

[thatched]

Roger

[In the distance: "There he is!"]

Fuck.

[bare feet on stone and people shouting to "get him!" grunts and the unmistakable sound of a snapping neck. Someone calling him a bastard and then a scraping thud as if he's crashed to the floor himself.

More thuds. Numerous. Another sound of breaking bone and he coughs wetly and then his ragged breathing goes quieter, barely heard.

"Son of a bitch is out."

"Finally"]