Chanteloup snorted at the thought of Vertiga's crew. "Funny thing, that. You know, when I first heard about you and this association of yours from commissaire Saint-Yves... I imagined one of those ancient times pirate ships, full of dangerous outlaws and lead by an entreprising adventurer. All with nothing left to lose..." she trailed off, aware that it WAS probably the case of most people onboard the Apahanta. "Anyhow, that is good to hear. You're probably aware that I won't need to rely solely on your word for it... But for what it's worth, I believe you. From what I know, you've enough trouble to sort out on your own without getting implicated in someone else's conflict."
She had already, utterly, decisively defeated her salmon. She took the opportunity to focus on Vertiga's reaction to his meal... Which he seemed to enjoy. Or at least, was polite enough not to show any sign of discomfort. A well-mannered rogue, no question. She leaned back in her chair, letting go of some of her edge. The digestion, lingering pleasant tastes and a slight tipsiness worked in great accord.
"Where does it end, Vertiga ? This crusade of yours. I'm well aware that my campaigns have more or less deprived you of a home, but... It will end, sooner or later. You'll be free to return to Curaçao once we're through with Liberty, there'd be no issue... So what then ? Would you imagine being comfortable and happy living an easy life, down there on this seemingly untroubled haven ? I'm picturing the great stateless adventurer, Ezrael Vertiga, without his neon warship, planting cabbages and turnips under the gaze of a very matronly woman. And the thought..." She barked one of her rather loud laughters again. The image was exquisite.
The maître d'hôtel took that as his cue, and discreetly entered the room, pushing a tray. A very, epicly smelly tray.
(06-14-2019, 12:25 PM)Sombra Hookier Wrote: If everyone was a bit more like Lanakov, the entire world would be more positive. Including pregnancy tests.
