#Punishment for being at sea for 6 weeks instead of 4¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[dizazter-dragoon]

My oc Cyrus simps So Hard for the local retired-warrior-turned-barmaid (and her adopted daughter) it's not even funny.

Half of the shit my friend and I write for them is simply

"Local Privateer deeply smitten with tavern bard".

Just,,,Beelining to their inn the moment his boots hit the first solid ground he's seen in weeks. Swiftly reaching behind the counter, past the busy Keeper, to snag his room key.

The moment he's in the baths, he's scrubbing his tan and scarred body free of the odor of blood, stale grog, and old fish. Working the oil, soot and assorted grime out out of his long blue hair with a citrus alchemical soap he "acquired" on his trip. Weaving the thick, still drying, tresses into the braid he knows they love.

Stretching out on the balcony in his new britches and bare chest. Just letting the sea air and sun dry him off as he watches his barmaid's kid run around in the sand far below. A tin of treats for the mischievous sprout sitting on his room's table waiting to be torn through tomorrow.

As soon as he's presentable, he's zooming over to the Inn's bar area. Steps out of his inn room looking like a lesser lord in his vibrant doublet and newly shined leather. Fitting, considering who the prior owners of Cyrus' intricate new tunic are were.

His crew doesn't even acknowledge their superior as he strolls by their table- no point when Captain Cyrus' attention is singularly focused on one thing the first night of every shore leave.

Orange gaze fixed on the stage area, he plops into the seat of a table up front of the stage of the nearly full tavern. Propping up his feet on the table, he tries to feign an air of nonchalance, looking every bit a prince of piracy as he searches for any hint of his lovely bardic performer behind the curtain.

Just...the lengths this man goes to for them, and the amount of effort he puts into trying to act nonchalant about it is hilarious.