The Buccaneers Bay

[Drake]

Ambrose Shelvocke came stumbling out from the back rooms, rubbing at his left eye and muttering darkly about hangovers. The youngest of the Buccaneer's Lieutenants, Ambrose was barely twenty-two but a hard life if toil and crime on Leeds had aged and hardened him, and he looked a fair bit older than he was. He still wore the stubble from a few nights without a razor, and his mop of sandy-blonde hair spilled out from under a black bandanna. Clutching at his shirt and peering over his shoulder was his ever-present pet, Jingles, a tiny arboreal scaled monkey-type creature 'liberated' from the cargo hold of a Gaian wildlife smuggler.

Ever since the destruction of his ship, his first since he'd got off that hellhole and turned from petty crime to actual piracy, he'd been drinking heavier than usual to pass the time while his mates went off and had fun buccaneering. A replacement was on its way, he said, and an upgrade from his old Griffen, so he claimed. After two weeks of waiting he was starting to get a bit impatient.

Ambrose staggered up to the bar and collapsed on a stool, folding his arms and resting them on the bar top, then resting his forehead on his folded arms. Jingles climbed up to sit on his head, peering around for something edible. "'ey, Charlie, how about some hair 'o the dog, eh?" Ambrose asked, not bothering to look up as he let a few credits fall from his hand onto the bar. After a moment he seemed to realize that he wasn't alone with the barkeep, and tilted his head to the side (causing Jingles to chirp in displeasure as he was dropped to the bar) to get a look at the Captain and his 'companion'. "Oh, mornin' Cap'n, didn't notice you there. Always were the sneaky type, like to catch people off guard. Good trait for a pirate, 'tis why you're the cap'n." His eyes focused (sort of) on Catalina, and she was able to see that his right eye socket had a short, thin scar running across it from his eyebrow to the bridge of his nose, and the eye itself was a solid black orb, likely a cybernetic replacement. "Well, Captain, who's your 'friend'?" he asked with a slowly widening grin, almost a leer.