𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙢𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙩-𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙖𝙨 || ʲ. ʰᵒˡˡᵃⁿᵈ

murmurs of the past, iv

          Despite all the talk of your stay back at the Poison Orchid, nobody was exactly sure what happened in the two years you've spent there.
         
          The ship was not all that different from the Inevitable in that it has faced her own fair share of damaging battles, old and torn down multiple times to be replaced yet somehow managing to keep its same feel. It was hard not to admire it for its beauty and strength.
         
          The first few months on that vessel were spent fucking around and quickly befriending the entirety of the crew, knowing that if you wanted to have even an ounce of surviving here you'd need actual people to be on speaking terms with. You succeeded with that, and more. Which is to say that you've uhm. . .went to bed, with many of the ship's crew. So when you describe it as 'fucking around', you do mean it quite literally.
         
          Throughout all these endeavors, you'd hear stories of many mates that have either died or are on some sort of leave. You honestly didn't care too much of these people, but one day the captain announces the return of a name you've sort of always just overlooked.
         
          Calliope Delisle, loved and endeared and feared by many, yet somehow managing to have the lowest count of confirmed sea beasts kill. Many spoke of her capability, yet in the same breath discussed that she hasn't at all killed that many.
         
          And honestly. . .was it bad to say that you didn't care? Hell, you forgot her name almost immediately.
         
          You were intrigued, sure, but never got yourself to care too much past the discussions the hunters would have regarding her. And that sentiment stayed the same, until you actually saw her for yourself.
         
          And. . .and well it was embarrassing to say that you physically almost fell to your knees.
         
          Calliope wasn't the most beautiful woman in the world, but by the gods did you think that whoever was wouldn't die if she wishes to keep her place.
         
          The first thing you noticed about her was her hair. Light blonde with two braids on her head, leading down to two ponytails that hung low and cascading effortlessly down her back. She was dressed in a lot of brown, her top hanging low on her chest in a way that, honestly is considered to be a bit too revealing for somebody in this business. She wore golden earrings, and had some sort of fabric around her neck as to not make her shoulders and collar look so plain, her skin sun-kissed and seemingly clear of flaws. She had belts around her waist and a black scabbard, and as if you weren't already staring at her long enough going up and down you found solace in the beautiful blue's of her eyes.
         
          Eyes that found yours a bit too easily.
         
          You had looked away then and disappeared into the crowd out of sheer embarrassment, but you wouldn't be away from her for long.
         
          "You're new here!" She had chirped the moment she got you to herself, barely being able to save yourself the embarrassment as you sheepishly introduced yourself. Gods, did she have to have such a nice voice too?
         
          Her eyes widened as she soon realizes you were the new 'recruit', sort of borrowed from the Inevitable and somebody she had unfortunately grown a great liking to, and somebody she admired. Now that she was closer you could see that she has a mole on her nose. Which wasn't the point, but it was cute.

          Her cheeks had flared in red as she recognizes your name too easily, and it was only then that you noticed the bow she had on her back and the way her demeanor quickly changed. Now she was the one embarrassed, and it took you a while to put the two and two together.
         
          In fact, it took you forever because you only figured out once she told you.
         
          "You're the, Cruickshank?! I'm such a big fan!" Your eyes widened in amusement as you see her take a moment to catch herself, quickly clearing her throat in an attempt to salvage whatever little dignity was left. Too late, you'd already decided that she was awkward and that you liked her.
         
          "I'm honored," You laughed, sliding her your pint that she sheepishly takes, "Since. . .since well it seems you already know who I am, can I have your name then, lass?" You already knew—sort of—but you rather that she tell you herself.
         
          "Oh! Right!" She was halfway through drinking before she slammed it back onto the makeshift bar, the liquid lightly spilling over as she all but throws her entire hand to you, "Calliope! I'm Calliope Delisle!" Despite how they looked her hand was rough and calloused to the touch, and it all but told you that she either dabbles in alchemy, or with heavy work. You shook it firmly with a large grin, "Nice to meet you, Calliope! Can I get you another drink?"
         
          Your friendship with the girl was the quickest you've ever formed with anyone, in but a week of talking already knowing quite literally everything there was to her. She was eighteen when you were nineteen, and she was an only child. She was raised by a single mother who had her at too late an age and had passed some years ago. She liked crabs, was heavily allergic to pollen and she had no favorite color. And oh, of course, the most important fact— she was as lovely as she looked.
         
          You found that her reputation on the ship was because she was known to be the most merciful of the bunch. She could do some serious damage, yes, but most of the time she refused to deal the killing blow. She worked as an apprentice under the ship's doctor, and has one of the steadiest hands that have ever picked up a needle and thread. She favors the bow as she admires your work and reputation, cares for the cats that the captain has on board—this crew was highly superstitious—and she constantly smelled like the best parts of an evening sea breeze.
         
          . . .
         
          It took you four months of friendship, and two more of subtle flirting before you realized that you had fallen for her.
         
          It took maybe another month before you had finally confessed of your feelings, remembering so vividly how her entire body basically went bright red. Gods it looks like she was painted with the color, and she squeakily told you that she felt the same. You two were in her room sorting some letters, and you kissed her then. That kiss turned into a completely different direction, and by the time the sun rose you found yourself waking up with a girlfriend. Fun.
         
          The relationship was supported by the ship, the only reason that it'd bring doubt being the fact that you had to return back to the Inevitable in two years or so. You thought nothing of it, and Calliope never brought it up.
         
          Life went on as usual, and honestly not much had changed while you two dated. Sure there was more intimacy, but for somebody completely ignorant you two could be mistaken as just two really close friends. It irked you some days, but the blonde only laughed it off each time.
         
          Although, you did find out the hard way that Calliope had a. . .she had a tendency to put others before herself. At one point she had dived in for a stray bullet, and gods help that she was lucky it missed her by a hair. You two had your first fight over that, but it wasn't long before some agreement was reached. You had to understand that she was compassionate, and she had to learn how to care of herself more. It was an important discussion to be had, no matter how much you hated the disagreement that came with it.
         
          One day, the Poison Orchid docked at a random island, with a beautiful beach that spanned miles and miles and reached out as far as your eyes could see. Lining the shores were dozens of seashells and other oceanic treasures, and after tiring both of yourselves out collecting as many as you could you two collapsed on the sand laughing and hollering.
         
          You found yourself drawn to the wonderfully colorful seashells, while you found that in her hands were just. . .a bunch of rocks. Your face scrunched in confusion and just the slightest bit of judgement.
         
          "Stop doing that face, you look constipated." She laughed when you attempted to swipe at her lightly, only shaking her head as she grabs your hand and places one of the said rocks. "Back where I used to live, we were dirt poor," You inhaled a breath through your gritted teeth, and she only grins, "And at the time, rocks were sort of. . .sort of the only thing I could play with, especially when I was younger."
         
          "I love you, Callie, but that is very depressing."
         
           "I'm not done!" She laughed, hooking an arm around yours and thumping her head on your shoulder, "And as I grew older, I ended up collecting all the pretty ones that I came across. It sort of became a hobby, and it became such a big part of my life that I learned to just love rocks." You tried to move your head back to look at her face, but she didn't move, so you just internally shrugged and put your head over hers. "Maybe I should just call you Rocky then."
          
           "Aww, that's so cute!" What should've been either offensive or at the very least a tease was quickly turned into something she accepted immediately, stammering in nothing but confusion as she rambled of how she loved the name now. You didn't know how you survived it then, but by the time she was done talking you could already see the moon rising, slowly but surely. She didn't at all look apologetic that she talked your ear off, but honestly? Calliope had a great voice, and you found that you'd rather listen to her all day than anyone else.
          
           Your nickname soon came about just two days after, the day that you were scheduled to leave, you found yourself busily collecting as many pretty rocks as you could find. It was embarrassing to say that her short. . .story? Confession? Whatever it was, it moved you enough to want to give her something, and thus began the spectacular yet entertaining portion of where Y/N Cruickshank does something without thinking things through, yet somehow manages to succeed at.
          
           By the crack of dawn you were already out and skimming the beaches before the vessel could set sail in the afternoon, finding a shop that could help you make accessories with whatever it was you wanted it to be made out of.
          
           It was fucking tiring, and probably one of the worst things you've ever subjected yourself to do. But after about three hours of constantly being on the verge of crying, you got lucky.
          
           So far your found yourself collecting shiny little black rocks with white patterns that you found usually near large boulders. And lo and behold, buried deeply embedded next to a pretty shell that you had tried to pry out of fun, you found a large white rock, shiny like the others, and had similarly black lines. But the most intriguing of all, was the perfectly shaped black heart in the middle.
          
           You sprinted so fast back to that accessory shop, practically slamming that rock onto her counter and begging her to make sure that the heart stayed in tact. The woman, early in her fifty's and plump around the cheeks, laughed and accepted the urgency with grace. She worked efficiently and quickly, and before you knew it—you didn't know, you had passed out on a stool leaning on her counter—she awoke you and, in her hand, was a bracelet that would be perfect for your rock-loving Calliope. Hell, she managed to cut the large stone to match everything else's shape, and you all but threw your hefty pouch of monthly allowance into her hands with a thousand thank you's and blessings before breaking into another sprint back to the ship.
          
           Safe to say that she hasn't forgotten about you. For your generosity or for how you looked absolutely mad looking like you could cry over rocks? Good question.
          
           You tripped over your boots and over air as you stumbled for Calliope's room hollering in victory, but it took you a moment to realize she wasn't there. It took you a longer moment to realize that the first mate was telling you repeatedly that she was up the foremast, and all but kissed her feet in thanks before climbing up there.
          
           "ROCKY!"
          
           "GODS!"
          
           You watched as she looked at you basically clawing your way over the railings in nothing but horror, collapsing next to her with the biggest grin on your tired face. "Ta da!" You were panting and shaking the gift like a tambourine. It clacked satisfyingly in your ears, but that wasn't the point!
          
           You shook your head and watched as she looks at it in quiet awe, hands that were up by her hair tying a ribbon slowly lowering to gently take the bracelet. You handed it to her and it fell lifelessly in her cupped hands, but in a moment of silence you found yourself almost falling over the edge as she all but throws her entire body to you. You were starting to realize it was a habit. "Oh I love it! I love it, I love it, I love it! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!" Your yelp quickly turned into laughs as she kissed your face and neck before just as quickly letting go of you, excitedly putting the bracelet over her wrist and grinning the widest you've ever seen her grin.
          
           "It's beautiful!" You mock bowed as she gushed over it for how many more minutes, lovingly staring at her letting her do her thing before she eventually calmed down.
          
           "But. . .but this is sort of ironic," She laughs, reaching behind her to grab whatever from the little bag she had. You raised a brow, one of her hands reaching over to sort of cover your eyes from seeing. You only stubbornly attempted to move your head like this and that, but she was quick to foil those movements by following almost effortlessly with her hand to further shield them. "Stop it! Give me a second!"
          
           "Absolutely not I wish to bring you nothing but struggle in this endeavor." It took a few more head swerving and her reaching over and all but slapping her hand onto your eyes that she plopped something on your lap, ripping her hand away as she laughed and you stared at her own gift.
          
           On your crossed legs was a new sheath that looked suspiciously like your current one that housed your favorite dagger, only this time you saw that it had a far more superior design and had small pearls embedded on the rim. Gods above now you really wanted to tear up.
          
           "I. . .I don't think I'm qualified enough to use this." She rolled her beautiful blue eyes and reached for the handle of said weapon, with one tug getting the dagger and then next her gift. She sheathed it perfectly inside, handed it back to you, and grinned her toothy grin. "There! You're more than qualified."
          
           The lovey dovey display went on for about how many more minutes, the two of you soon settling once again leaning on one another quietly overlooking the vast sea. It sort of reminded you of all your days spent like this back at the Inevitable. You wondered how Jacob was doing.
          
           "So if I'm Rocky, shouldn't it be right I nickname you something too?" You hummed as she asks, you running a thumb through the designs of the new sheath in quiet thought. But it seems that was what she needed, because she gasped. "Of course! Rocky and Pearl!"
          
           . . .
          
           "Now we just sound like dogs." She made a show of pouting as you only laughed teasingly, brushing her hair off her shoulders as she struggled to defend her choices. "It makes perfect sense! I'm Rocky, now you're Pearl!"
          
           "Well it sounds too much like a name, people are going to forget that I'm Y/N."
          
           "Just let me have this!"
          
           Despite the fact that you teased her for like the better part of another hour, you did end up accepting the nickname eventually, scoffing to yourself at how easily you fell for her all over again over a simple thing like giving you a new fucking name. Was it bad that you felt so flustered at it?? Keep it together, Cruickshank!! Your reputation's on the line!!
          
           "If I lose my street cred over this, you're the first to blame."
          
           "If I get to call you Pearl, then by all means!"
          
           Over time the names sort of became less like names, and more of endearments. There were less like Callie or Cruick, and now were more like babe or love or sweetheart, interchangeable and soon developing into a. . .sort of like an inside joke, between the both of you. Hunters on the ship caught on quick that the terms rocky and pearl were sort of just saved for the both of you, and so you were still known by everyone else as your actual names, or varieties of your actual names.