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TRIGGER WARNING: Allusion to sex, vomit, will bending, Zaany is a jerk
Mundane routes of travel were usually below the rather orchid-toned elf. But this was a destination that Zaany could not simply Step to. The city on the Other Side was too well guarded, too suspicious - rightly so.
So the boat would do. It was hardly like there was any financial insecurity to the caster; the ship was meant for passenger travel, and this one had one of the best cabins aboard.
Right now, though, the pale elf with the dark, well coifed hair was on deck, perching in their chair, very idly sipping at a cup of tea with no conspicuous kettle in sight. They wore robes of deep, silky blues, heavily embroidered, their feet hidden within the fabric. The scent of cinnamon surrounded them.
Off to one side of the boat there was a shadowy figure. The hooded, shapeless cloak may have appeared to be an attempt to create an air of mysticism- but in reality, it was the poor wearer's attempt to escape from the blinding sun that was only worsening his sea sickness. This one was used to traveling on foot.
He was chewing something. Some root or other, to combat nausea. He spat it crudely over the side and into the churning water. He cast glimpses at the elven figure who cut such a fine looking silhouette. It was something nice to look at other than muddy water.
The tea was for tasting. Something no one had gotten the opportunity to closely observe was the fact the elf, outside of the tiny sips of tea, did not quite ingest anything. This route wasn't short - hadn't been short, at all - and the Elf was feeling the grind of an empty stomach, finally.
A crew member had gone missing a few days ago, but had hardly provided even a snack for the disguised beast. Something they couldn't ignore, though, was the very distinct tastes in the air they were getting from the seasick being at the rail, a strong taste of magic.
And so they might finally be caught in one of their own furtive glances.
Andrei looked away hurriedly, embarrassed that he may have been caught staring. He sighed and threw back his hood. He was paler than most along this line, a freckled sunburnt face was set under a thick head and beard of long red hair. He wobbled slightly. Whatever he'd been taking had apparently worked, for the most part, to settle his stomach.
He gave a polite nod to the elf. He wondered what they spoke? He may have to play the part of a mute.
The stares had been caught, yes, and quickly processed. Of course the man stared, and Zaany had more than a small idea of why. Usually not of interest, with their hunger, it was appetizing, something calling to be put to use.
Painted royal purple lips tugged into a smile, though the slight crookedness suggested a smirk, at the man's nod. Elf made a small show of looking over the human, as if the sight pleased them.
There was space to sit, close by.
It seemed an invitation enough. He walked over, a heavy cane thunking on the wooden deck. He seemed too young to need a walking stick, and seemed to walk well enough without leaning on it. The elf could likely guess its real purpose easily enough.
Andrei hazarded a greeting. "Hello." He said flatly, not really expecting it to be understood. But the only way to learn to communicate with these locals was to try.
The foreign look and accent (and already apparent terrible command of the local lingo) made other things incredibly obvious. This one wouldn't be missed. Zaany's eyes were hungry, looking him over in earnest, lips slightly parting for a moment before speaking.
"Are you traveling alone?" Andrei likely wouldn't be able to notice Zaany's own accent, or the fact they were not quite a natural to the language.
He understood it, but didn't have a good enough grasp of the language to answer other than "yes." He sat at the table wearily. "I am bad with water."
And with languages. That sounded stupid. Eh, close enough. "Are you?"
Long fingers waved - the motion was dismissive, but also understanding. They set down the empty cup, turned their full attention to the tiny human.
"Incredibly. I can't say there is much for companionship aboard this vessel. Not to my taste, at least." The elf was quite blunt. Frankly, the less time they spent out in the open, the better.
"Hmm." He mused quietly, nodding in agreement. He fumbled for words. "I am Andrei." He offered. He declined to extend a hand in greeting. Gods only knew what bizarre offense a foreigner might take to the gesture.
Though the urge to reach out and touch the silky looking garments was very potent.
Zaany was similarly careful, only nodding in return. "Zaany Lownoise. I am a bard, a visual performer. What do you do?" They cut off, abruptly, and started again. "...Perhaps we could talk more...privately? The sun is beating down and I am quite pale...I'm sure you understand."
The man was given a raised brow, elf already smoothly moving to their feet.
He didn't answer. He didn't have words for what he was. But he could appreciate the promise of shelter. His own lodgings had been in the cargo hold for much of the trip.
He followed quietly. The people here were more beautiful than most back home, the elves doubly so. As he followed he didn't hide his stare.
The hallways inside were cramped, but the elf's room could at least be stood in, and housed an actual bed rather than a bunk. Inside, a trunk sat beside the bed, and, leaned in the corner, an incredibly large...flute? It could have been mistaken for a staff.
The room itself had the smallest tingle upon entry, perhaps something familiar to the guest - wards. Zaany pulled the door closed behind Andrei, casually loosened the robe's upper portions around their shoulders.
"Are you meeting someone? You are headed to Aram, correct?" They retook their perch, now on the edge of the bed, ignoring the comfortable seat provided them. The bed itself was neatly made, with only the pillow a bit ruffled.
"Aram, yes." He shuddered slightly. Yes, wards, good ones too. More than what an ordinary bard would have to trifle with.
"To Aram. To see new things." A vague enough answer. He leaned a bit more on his staff.
"What do you want in Aram?"
"Oh, much the same. It is a wealthy city, worthy of my presence."
The elf's eyes were almost predatory in how they watched Andrei, hungry. Slender fingers trailed across the comforter. "I know you did not come in here to ask after my business."
Andrei flushed. Hopefully the sunburn would hide it. "You are beautiful."
That was probably the wrong form of that word. But hopefully the meaning wasn't lost. He swallowed hard.
"Why did you bring me?"
"Because you are an exotic little treat." The compliment seemed to work, teeth showed in the next smile; teeth that were somewhat sharp, though not abnormal for an elf. "The voyage is long. Sometimes the entertainer needs entertained."
The man wasn't moving, despite how obviously affected he was. So the silky robe was finally shrugged fully off the elf's shoulders, letting it fall down to the crooks of their elbows.
Then Zaany stopped, as if making some connection - stiffening slightly. "..Unless I am ... wrong, regarding your tastes?" The elf looked almost embarrassed.
"Not wrong." He smirked. "Exotic?" A new word. He hoped it was a good one.
He stepped closer, finally permitting himself to brush his fingers along the rich robe.
Andrei flopped ungracefully to one side, rubbing his face against the sheets. This had cleared up seasickness well enough.
An arm wrapped lightly around Andrei's middle as the elf crawled and laid beside him, kissing his neck. Took a breath through their teeth, made a small, satisfied noise, twiddling with a ring around their finger.
Andrei didn't notice. He was nearly napping. The arm around his waist was a welcome bit of affection.
And there was a smirk. The ring popped off, onto the covers; something similar yet different was now his bedmate. And it didn't stop, there. There were no grunts of pain, simply indifference to the transformation.
The bed creaked.
The arm on Andrei was now holding him down, weighted down by a beast much heavier than the elf. It didn't wait for him to possibly struggle and escape; it took horking bites from him...without ever breaking his skin.
Andrei kicked out, rapidly becoming entangled in sheets. The Hell was this?
He elbowed it, reached for his staff... but found his arm only weakly reaching out as if he were trying to run in a dream. He fought the urge to faint, but he was losing.
The beast was very quickly full; this one had made a good meal. The monstrous elf now sat next to him once more, and stroked the hair of the passed-out man.
They considered the human. Well, he was still alive. Didn't seem to be a vegetable. Pulling on their robes, they moved Andrei, put him back into his own robes. Lifting him easily, the elf - ring re-equipped - slunk out into the hallway, flitted about the ship's interiors, and simply left him somewhere in the bowels of the ship, around some crates. If he were a vegetable, that wasn't their problem anymore.
Andrei couldn't tell if he were dying or only seasick again. Both seemed likely. He held his head and grabbed for support on the nearest heavy object. Well, at least he hadn't been tossed overboard to drown. He groped for his walking stick- and found it missing.
He looked around in a lazy panic for the item. He could barely remember where he'd been, but his mind flickered back to the elf. No, not an elf... that shape changing THING that he'd gone to bed with. Well that was yet another thing to worry about. He'd have to be de-wormed just in case.
He hobbled out of the cargo hold, regaining strength with each step and avoiding conversation with anyone he passed by means of an angry stare. He had an idea of what room he was looking for. When he was fairly sure he had it, he knocked- or pounded, rather. It occurred to him that he likely couldn't articulate what it was he was looking for, though he was certain this thieving beast would have an idea.
The robe was lazily tied, perhaps a bit wrinkled; the camouflaging ring worn. Well-fed, the beast of an elf stretched from their rest, smirked at the pounding on the door. After waiting for a short while, they finally stood to their impressive height, and partly leaned to see out of the door when they finally jerked it open, standing out of the way of any incoming 'knocks'.
"Well, this is unexpected."
Andrei's fist stopped just short of accidentally 'knocking' the elf in the face. Still, after a moment's hesitation, he rather purposefully knocked against the chest of the taller being and let forth a mighty torrent of angry chatter, though in a language unlikely to be understood by any but himself.
"You stupid, foul, treacherous bastard! I should grind you into flour! I should burn you ashes! What in Hell did you do to me? Where is my staff? Did you take it? What else did you take?"
He was making a scene. It occurred to him that this was foolishness- he was too foreign to tell anyone what had happened easily, and too weak to fight if he needed to. Seasickness lent him a very bad temper, though, and he wasn't leaving without the staff. He tried desperately to find the word for what it was he wanted, but the word for 'staff' or 'walking stick' was too far from everyday for him to know.
All he could do was angrily state the word "wooden" repeatedly, and hope the towering idiot could understand.
Well, he certainly wouldn't be making a scene for long. It'd be tricky - after all, suggestion revolved around the target understanding what you said - but it could be done.
A graceful hand was warm on the human's intrusive fist, the usual tinkle of music in the elf's voice. "Hush, hush, why don't you come in and sit down? You should calm down, I do not understand why you are so angry."
The worming of the spell would have Andrei believing the smile Zaany gave him was kind; there were certainly more involved ways to persuade, if they failed the first time.
Andrei only partially understood what was said to him- mostly because he wasn't listening, he was too busy struggling to realize why his mood was suddenly changing. He wasn't hitting the elf anymore but trying to pull away. He kept repeating the same phrase, "wooden," over again, trying to mime what it was he was looking for with hand gestures.
He wasn't immediately sure why the elf was being so kind to him, or why he believed it, but he was sure that a very important tool was still not glued to his side like it ought to be. He peered past the elf, into the room, looking for the item, and trying to talk with as much of the language as he knew.
"Give it back."
"Give you back your wood.... Well." He was calm; the elf shooed away a crew member ready to wrangle the apparently deranged man, and tugged their once-more 'guest' inside, closing the door.
"I would not think you'd be here again so quickly," or at all, "But I certainly can accommodate, as you've been quite of service. Not quite often they just come running back." It was entirely unclear whether or not the elf was being facetious; they still smiled, still impressed upon the man good intentions, calmness, amiability.
Andrei's fingers were plucked out of a fist, left to sit on a slim, silk-covered hip. "Now, you've caused quite a scene and I am more than certain if not for me, the crew would see you thrown overboard.... I hope you are going to behave nicely."
Andrei pressed his free hand to his head. He felt as if he were about to vomit. This useless being wasn't offering up any information, if they could even UNDERSTAND what it was he wanted. He'd stopped ranting, but hadn't stopped searching. He groped the air next to him blindly for it, as if he expected it to just appear.
Inwardly, he was angry at himself for losing it. On a deeper level he was angry that so much of what he did depended on a single tool. He told himself he'd need to change that, but for now, such an expensive item needed to be recovered.
He moved away slowly, distancing himself from the elf- and promptly choked, and vomited on the floor.
The item was slightly lodged behind the only chair in the room - perhaps where he left it, maybe moved around by the perpetual rocking of the vessel.
Zaany simply stared, as if in annoyance, at the human as he messed on the floor. Letting out a long breath, a tingle crawled across their skin - a tea cup in their hand, strong mint scent coming from it. It was set on the table the staff partly leaned on, and Andrei, pulled suddenly by the hair as he came up for breath, was shoved into the seat.
The elf stepped around the disgusting puddle, barked something into the hallway, leaving the door ajar after, as they came back to stare at the human.
Andrei blinked dumbly at the tea, but drank it, if only to get the taste out of his mouth. The stranger wasn't likely to try anything with the door left open anyway. He spotted the staff, and eagerly snatched it. He set the teacup down and began inspecting the staff for any signs of damage.
Physically, it appeared to be in good shape. He held it close, clutching it like a life line. Maybe it was.
The mint likely would settle his stomach.
A brow rose high as the man suddenly grabbed the staff - long forgotten by the elf, if ever it was even acknowledged - and understanding registered on their face. Not that it mattered much, but it explained some things, like why the idiot came back.
A boy suddenly came tramping into the room, mop and bucket in hand - went to work while the elf watched closely, should he choose to try to make off with something.
The door was shut behind him, locked.
"Now, my troublesome little friend, would be the time for flattery, after that." The cup simply disappeared in a few shimmering specks of dust.
Andrei sat stock still in his chair, clutching the unassuming wooden stick defensively. He hadn't really thought about how he would get out after retrieving the item. He was prepared to fight his way out if he had to- but the demon in the room with him didn't seem to want a fight. If it did, he'd certainly already be attacked, wouldn't he?
What was it talking about now? "I do not understand. Sorry."
Zaany sighed, moved to sit on their bed, adjusting and neatening up their robes. "Flattery? Platitudes? Kiss up to me. Be a good boy. Make yourself of use. Do something. You have attacked me, and messed my room, over a stick, I expect you to make up for it."
Though this game was quickly getting boring.
"You attacked me first." He grumbled. He had a few other choice words of course, but none of them in a language that would be sufficiently insulting. He wanted to yell at the stupid creature's face that this was no mere 'stick', now that he had the word for it, but it was better that they didn't know how important of an item they unwittingly had stuck behind their chair.
They did seem impatient though. If things came to blows they might get a demonstration. "You hurt me. Why?"
Zaany watched him, now, stared at the 'stick'. They knew what it was, and had no desire for the item. Back to staring at the man's face, the elf frowned. "Well. You can come back next week before we dock and enjoy me some more, or I can change my mind about whether you can or can not stay on board."
Now it was the hair - a bit out of place - that was being attended to.
"Allow me on board?" He bristled slightly. In truth, he'd rather be tossed overboard if it came to that. "Are YOU allowed on board?"
It wasn't precisely the sentence he was looking for, but the implications were clear. In the toss up between a stow-away and a demon, who's word meant more? But it was a bluff more than anything else- how would anyone be convinced, even if he could tell them?
"Of course. I've paid, and quite well. You could say I am a valued passenger, even. You, however.... I can't say I saw you get on this ship with the rest of us. I certainly would have known."
Was it a bluff?
"Well, if this is how you feel, when they throw you overboard, I will make sure I've had my fill beforehand."
"You want me dead, then?" He raised an eyebrow. He wasn't the best swimmer even on a good day. "I do only what I have to. Leave me alone." The rest was again implied, there would be no such trouble if he was given room.
He got up, as if to make for the door.
"Suit yourself. It was a rather pleasant offer, I can't say that who else has been offered it has turned it down." Zaany didn't physically do anything; the man was simply allowed to leave. No need for a brawl of any sort.
"I do not trust offers from things that bite." He said flatly, and opened the door. His death grip on the staff relaxed a bit once outside. He was sure he'd regret that scene. He'd have to make his way back below deck and try to lay low. Aram was close, but hardly within walking distance- or more than likely, swimming distance.
Pity he didn't bother learning water breathing back at the coven.
Mundane routes of travel were usually below the rather orchid-toned elf. But this was a destination that Zaany could not simply Step to. The city on the Other Side was too well guarded, too suspicious - rightly so.
So the boat would do. It was hardly like there was any financial insecurity to the caster; the ship was meant for passenger travel, and this one had one of the best cabins aboard.
Right now, though, the pale elf with the dark, well coifed hair was on deck, perching in their chair, very idly sipping at a cup of tea with no conspicuous kettle in sight. They wore robes of deep, silky blues, heavily embroidered, their feet hidden within the fabric. The scent of cinnamon surrounded them.
Off to one side of the boat there was a shadowy figure. The hooded, shapeless cloak may have appeared to be an attempt to create an air of mysticism- but in reality, it was the poor wearer's attempt to escape from the blinding sun that was only worsening his sea sickness. This one was used to traveling on foot.
He was chewing something. Some root or other, to combat nausea. He spat it crudely over the side and into the churning water. He cast glimpses at the elven figure who cut such a fine looking silhouette. It was something nice to look at other than muddy water.
The tea was for tasting. Something no one had gotten the opportunity to closely observe was the fact the elf, outside of the tiny sips of tea, did not quite ingest anything. This route wasn't short - hadn't been short, at all - and the Elf was feeling the grind of an empty stomach, finally.
A crew member had gone missing a few days ago, but had hardly provided even a snack for the disguised beast. Something they couldn't ignore, though, was the very distinct tastes in the air they were getting from the seasick being at the rail, a strong taste of magic.
And so they might finally be caught in one of their own furtive glances.
Andrei looked away hurriedly, embarrassed that he may have been caught staring. He sighed and threw back his hood. He was paler than most along this line, a freckled sunburnt face was set under a thick head and beard of long red hair. He wobbled slightly. Whatever he'd been taking had apparently worked, for the most part, to settle his stomach.
He gave a polite nod to the elf. He wondered what they spoke? He may have to play the part of a mute.
The stares had been caught, yes, and quickly processed. Of course the man stared, and Zaany had more than a small idea of why. Usually not of interest, with their hunger, it was appetizing, something calling to be put to use.
Painted royal purple lips tugged into a smile, though the slight crookedness suggested a smirk, at the man's nod. Elf made a small show of looking over the human, as if the sight pleased them.
There was space to sit, close by.
It seemed an invitation enough. He walked over, a heavy cane thunking on the wooden deck. He seemed too young to need a walking stick, and seemed to walk well enough without leaning on it. The elf could likely guess its real purpose easily enough.
Andrei hazarded a greeting. "Hello." He said flatly, not really expecting it to be understood. But the only way to learn to communicate with these locals was to try.
The foreign look and accent (and already apparent terrible command of the local lingo) made other things incredibly obvious. This one wouldn't be missed. Zaany's eyes were hungry, looking him over in earnest, lips slightly parting for a moment before speaking.
"Are you traveling alone?" Andrei likely wouldn't be able to notice Zaany's own accent, or the fact they were not quite a natural to the language.
He understood it, but didn't have a good enough grasp of the language to answer other than "yes." He sat at the table wearily. "I am bad with water."
And with languages. That sounded stupid. Eh, close enough. "Are you?"
Long fingers waved - the motion was dismissive, but also understanding. They set down the empty cup, turned their full attention to the tiny human.
"Incredibly. I can't say there is much for companionship aboard this vessel. Not to my taste, at least." The elf was quite blunt. Frankly, the less time they spent out in the open, the better.
"Hmm." He mused quietly, nodding in agreement. He fumbled for words. "I am Andrei." He offered. He declined to extend a hand in greeting. Gods only knew what bizarre offense a foreigner might take to the gesture.
Though the urge to reach out and touch the silky looking garments was very potent.
Zaany was similarly careful, only nodding in return. "Zaany Lownoise. I am a bard, a visual performer. What do you do?" They cut off, abruptly, and started again. "...Perhaps we could talk more...privately? The sun is beating down and I am quite pale...I'm sure you understand."
The man was given a raised brow, elf already smoothly moving to their feet.
He didn't answer. He didn't have words for what he was. But he could appreciate the promise of shelter. His own lodgings had been in the cargo hold for much of the trip.
He followed quietly. The people here were more beautiful than most back home, the elves doubly so. As he followed he didn't hide his stare.
The hallways inside were cramped, but the elf's room could at least be stood in, and housed an actual bed rather than a bunk. Inside, a trunk sat beside the bed, and, leaned in the corner, an incredibly large...flute? It could have been mistaken for a staff.
The room itself had the smallest tingle upon entry, perhaps something familiar to the guest - wards. Zaany pulled the door closed behind Andrei, casually loosened the robe's upper portions around their shoulders.
"Are you meeting someone? You are headed to Aram, correct?" They retook their perch, now on the edge of the bed, ignoring the comfortable seat provided them. The bed itself was neatly made, with only the pillow a bit ruffled.
"Aram, yes." He shuddered slightly. Yes, wards, good ones too. More than what an ordinary bard would have to trifle with.
"To Aram. To see new things." A vague enough answer. He leaned a bit more on his staff.
"What do you want in Aram?"
"Oh, much the same. It is a wealthy city, worthy of my presence."
The elf's eyes were almost predatory in how they watched Andrei, hungry. Slender fingers trailed across the comforter. "I know you did not come in here to ask after my business."
Andrei flushed. Hopefully the sunburn would hide it. "You are beautiful."
That was probably the wrong form of that word. But hopefully the meaning wasn't lost. He swallowed hard.
"Why did you bring me?"
"Because you are an exotic little treat." The compliment seemed to work, teeth showed in the next smile; teeth that were somewhat sharp, though not abnormal for an elf. "The voyage is long. Sometimes the entertainer needs entertained."
The man wasn't moving, despite how obviously affected he was. So the silky robe was finally shrugged fully off the elf's shoulders, letting it fall down to the crooks of their elbows.
Then Zaany stopped, as if making some connection - stiffening slightly. "..Unless I am ... wrong, regarding your tastes?" The elf looked almost embarrassed.
"Not wrong." He smirked. "Exotic?" A new word. He hoped it was a good one.
He stepped closer, finally permitting himself to brush his fingers along the rich robe.
--
Andrei flopped ungracefully to one side, rubbing his face against the sheets. This had cleared up seasickness well enough.
An arm wrapped lightly around Andrei's middle as the elf crawled and laid beside him, kissing his neck. Took a breath through their teeth, made a small, satisfied noise, twiddling with a ring around their finger.
Andrei didn't notice. He was nearly napping. The arm around his waist was a welcome bit of affection.
And there was a smirk. The ring popped off, onto the covers; something similar yet different was now his bedmate. And it didn't stop, there. There were no grunts of pain, simply indifference to the transformation.
The bed creaked.
The arm on Andrei was now holding him down, weighted down by a beast much heavier than the elf. It didn't wait for him to possibly struggle and escape; it took horking bites from him...without ever breaking his skin.
Andrei kicked out, rapidly becoming entangled in sheets. The Hell was this?
He elbowed it, reached for his staff... but found his arm only weakly reaching out as if he were trying to run in a dream. He fought the urge to faint, but he was losing.
The beast was very quickly full; this one had made a good meal. The monstrous elf now sat next to him once more, and stroked the hair of the passed-out man.
They considered the human. Well, he was still alive. Didn't seem to be a vegetable. Pulling on their robes, they moved Andrei, put him back into his own robes. Lifting him easily, the elf - ring re-equipped - slunk out into the hallway, flitted about the ship's interiors, and simply left him somewhere in the bowels of the ship, around some crates. If he were a vegetable, that wasn't their problem anymore.
--
Andrei couldn't tell if he were dying or only seasick again. Both seemed likely. He held his head and grabbed for support on the nearest heavy object. Well, at least he hadn't been tossed overboard to drown. He groped for his walking stick- and found it missing.
He looked around in a lazy panic for the item. He could barely remember where he'd been, but his mind flickered back to the elf. No, not an elf... that shape changing THING that he'd gone to bed with. Well that was yet another thing to worry about. He'd have to be de-wormed just in case.
He hobbled out of the cargo hold, regaining strength with each step and avoiding conversation with anyone he passed by means of an angry stare. He had an idea of what room he was looking for. When he was fairly sure he had it, he knocked- or pounded, rather. It occurred to him that he likely couldn't articulate what it was he was looking for, though he was certain this thieving beast would have an idea.
The robe was lazily tied, perhaps a bit wrinkled; the camouflaging ring worn. Well-fed, the beast of an elf stretched from their rest, smirked at the pounding on the door. After waiting for a short while, they finally stood to their impressive height, and partly leaned to see out of the door when they finally jerked it open, standing out of the way of any incoming 'knocks'.
"Well, this is unexpected."
Andrei's fist stopped just short of accidentally 'knocking' the elf in the face. Still, after a moment's hesitation, he rather purposefully knocked against the chest of the taller being and let forth a mighty torrent of angry chatter, though in a language unlikely to be understood by any but himself.
"You stupid, foul, treacherous bastard! I should grind you into flour! I should burn you ashes! What in Hell did you do to me? Where is my staff? Did you take it? What else did you take?"
He was making a scene. It occurred to him that this was foolishness- he was too foreign to tell anyone what had happened easily, and too weak to fight if he needed to. Seasickness lent him a very bad temper, though, and he wasn't leaving without the staff. He tried desperately to find the word for what it was he wanted, but the word for 'staff' or 'walking stick' was too far from everyday for him to know.
All he could do was angrily state the word "wooden" repeatedly, and hope the towering idiot could understand.
Well, he certainly wouldn't be making a scene for long. It'd be tricky - after all, suggestion revolved around the target understanding what you said - but it could be done.
A graceful hand was warm on the human's intrusive fist, the usual tinkle of music in the elf's voice. "Hush, hush, why don't you come in and sit down? You should calm down, I do not understand why you are so angry."
The worming of the spell would have Andrei believing the smile Zaany gave him was kind; there were certainly more involved ways to persuade, if they failed the first time.
Andrei only partially understood what was said to him- mostly because he wasn't listening, he was too busy struggling to realize why his mood was suddenly changing. He wasn't hitting the elf anymore but trying to pull away. He kept repeating the same phrase, "wooden," over again, trying to mime what it was he was looking for with hand gestures.
He wasn't immediately sure why the elf was being so kind to him, or why he believed it, but he was sure that a very important tool was still not glued to his side like it ought to be. He peered past the elf, into the room, looking for the item, and trying to talk with as much of the language as he knew.
"Give it back."
"Give you back your wood.... Well." He was calm; the elf shooed away a crew member ready to wrangle the apparently deranged man, and tugged their once-more 'guest' inside, closing the door.
"I would not think you'd be here again so quickly," or at all, "But I certainly can accommodate, as you've been quite of service. Not quite often they just come running back." It was entirely unclear whether or not the elf was being facetious; they still smiled, still impressed upon the man good intentions, calmness, amiability.
Andrei's fingers were plucked out of a fist, left to sit on a slim, silk-covered hip. "Now, you've caused quite a scene and I am more than certain if not for me, the crew would see you thrown overboard.... I hope you are going to behave nicely."
Andrei pressed his free hand to his head. He felt as if he were about to vomit. This useless being wasn't offering up any information, if they could even UNDERSTAND what it was he wanted. He'd stopped ranting, but hadn't stopped searching. He groped the air next to him blindly for it, as if he expected it to just appear.
Inwardly, he was angry at himself for losing it. On a deeper level he was angry that so much of what he did depended on a single tool. He told himself he'd need to change that, but for now, such an expensive item needed to be recovered.
He moved away slowly, distancing himself from the elf- and promptly choked, and vomited on the floor.
The item was slightly lodged behind the only chair in the room - perhaps where he left it, maybe moved around by the perpetual rocking of the vessel.
Zaany simply stared, as if in annoyance, at the human as he messed on the floor. Letting out a long breath, a tingle crawled across their skin - a tea cup in their hand, strong mint scent coming from it. It was set on the table the staff partly leaned on, and Andrei, pulled suddenly by the hair as he came up for breath, was shoved into the seat.
The elf stepped around the disgusting puddle, barked something into the hallway, leaving the door ajar after, as they came back to stare at the human.
Andrei blinked dumbly at the tea, but drank it, if only to get the taste out of his mouth. The stranger wasn't likely to try anything with the door left open anyway. He spotted the staff, and eagerly snatched it. He set the teacup down and began inspecting the staff for any signs of damage.
Physically, it appeared to be in good shape. He held it close, clutching it like a life line. Maybe it was.
The mint likely would settle his stomach.
A brow rose high as the man suddenly grabbed the staff - long forgotten by the elf, if ever it was even acknowledged - and understanding registered on their face. Not that it mattered much, but it explained some things, like why the idiot came back.
A boy suddenly came tramping into the room, mop and bucket in hand - went to work while the elf watched closely, should he choose to try to make off with something.
The door was shut behind him, locked.
"Now, my troublesome little friend, would be the time for flattery, after that." The cup simply disappeared in a few shimmering specks of dust.
Andrei sat stock still in his chair, clutching the unassuming wooden stick defensively. He hadn't really thought about how he would get out after retrieving the item. He was prepared to fight his way out if he had to- but the demon in the room with him didn't seem to want a fight. If it did, he'd certainly already be attacked, wouldn't he?
What was it talking about now? "I do not understand. Sorry."
Zaany sighed, moved to sit on their bed, adjusting and neatening up their robes. "Flattery? Platitudes? Kiss up to me. Be a good boy. Make yourself of use. Do something. You have attacked me, and messed my room, over a stick, I expect you to make up for it."
Though this game was quickly getting boring.
"You attacked me first." He grumbled. He had a few other choice words of course, but none of them in a language that would be sufficiently insulting. He wanted to yell at the stupid creature's face that this was no mere 'stick', now that he had the word for it, but it was better that they didn't know how important of an item they unwittingly had stuck behind their chair.
They did seem impatient though. If things came to blows they might get a demonstration. "You hurt me. Why?"
Zaany watched him, now, stared at the 'stick'. They knew what it was, and had no desire for the item. Back to staring at the man's face, the elf frowned. "Well. You can come back next week before we dock and enjoy me some more, or I can change my mind about whether you can or can not stay on board."
Now it was the hair - a bit out of place - that was being attended to.
"Allow me on board?" He bristled slightly. In truth, he'd rather be tossed overboard if it came to that. "Are YOU allowed on board?"
It wasn't precisely the sentence he was looking for, but the implications were clear. In the toss up between a stow-away and a demon, who's word meant more? But it was a bluff more than anything else- how would anyone be convinced, even if he could tell them?
"Of course. I've paid, and quite well. You could say I am a valued passenger, even. You, however.... I can't say I saw you get on this ship with the rest of us. I certainly would have known."
Was it a bluff?
"Well, if this is how you feel, when they throw you overboard, I will make sure I've had my fill beforehand."
"You want me dead, then?" He raised an eyebrow. He wasn't the best swimmer even on a good day. "I do only what I have to. Leave me alone." The rest was again implied, there would be no such trouble if he was given room.
He got up, as if to make for the door.
"Suit yourself. It was a rather pleasant offer, I can't say that who else has been offered it has turned it down." Zaany didn't physically do anything; the man was simply allowed to leave. No need for a brawl of any sort.
"I do not trust offers from things that bite." He said flatly, and opened the door. His death grip on the staff relaxed a bit once outside. He was sure he'd regret that scene. He'd have to make his way back below deck and try to lay low. Aram was close, but hardly within walking distance- or more than likely, swimming distance.
Pity he didn't bother learning water breathing back at the coven.
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