Without Emilio to talk to, and forbidden by Arturo to mingle with the less-idiotic sailors, Marcelina found herself incredibly bored. She'd finished sunbathing about an hour after the incident, and it wasn't exactly safe to amble about on the ship. It was surprisingly more in-depth than she'd assumed it to be, and the last thing Marcelina wanted was to get herself lost. So, that left her with a challenge: what to do until dinner? Marcelina watched the sea through the window of her cabin, hand holding her head by supporting her chin, and just pondered for a while.
She'd been on this ship for at least 5 months and at most 6, and in that time Marcelina was almost double-kidnapped, turned into a semi-permanent human form, had learned to walk, and triggered some odd triangular relationship between herself, Arturo and Emilio. Add a few other things and Marcelina supposed this had been quite an eventful experience. Not necessarily all bad--Emilio and Sergio were nice--but a break would be rather nice, someway to lose the built-up stress and confusion of things. Arturo said it would be at least three weeks until they would do some real pirating, and then she could go home. Marcelina blinked slowly, crossing and uncrossing her legs at the ankles. Well, her best bet was to go and see Emilio before dinner. It would kill her boredom, and Emilio was as clever as he was gentle, so the conversation would be nice.
Mind set, Marcelina allowed herself to enjoy the ocean from her window for a little longer before leaving her cabin for the kitchens. Luckily, the mess hall was empty, so she wasn't harassed on her way. The kitchens connected to the mess hall through a plain oak door with a knife carved into it. It made no sound as Marcelina slowly opened it. Upon entering the kitchen, Marcelina was surprised by the organized chaos inside. Pleasant smells filled the room, and while there were small moments of a mess, it was overshadowed by the cleanliness. Emilio took his kitchen space seriously, she realized. Speaking of, Emilio was standing with his back to her at the counter, humming with a pretty tenor voice as he skillfully cut what smelled like tuna. If they could've, Marcelina was sure her teeth would've sharpened at the lovely mix of salt and blood.
She didn't go unnoticed for much longer, and while Marcelina couldn't see it, Emilio's face lit up in pleasant surprise. He turned around to greet her, only to find her attention not on him at all, but in the surrounding area. Her curious expression made him chuckle; her nose flared slightly to take it the smells and her body swayed just a bit to look into spaces high above her. "Here to see me already?" Emilio greeted, laughing openly at her startled jump. Marcelina huffed in embarrassment at being laughed at, looking away pointedly from the deep blue of his eyes. "I was bored, and the mess hall is the only place I could think to go without getting lost. Don't flatter yourself." She replied curtly, crossing her arms over her chest. Emilio only rose an eyebrow at her, not at all deterred by her tone. "I think Arturo's been a bad influence. You've taken his pout and brash ways of denial." It was 95% teasing and 5% truth. Marcelina looked scandalized, recoiling visibly. "What? I've got no such thing--" Marcelina saw the laughter just barely hiding under the surface of Emilio's smile and felt cornered, so she quickly changed the subject.
"Anyway, what are you going to make with that delicious-looking tuna?" She looked around Emilio to get a better look, mentally cooing at the shiny skin and succulent meat. It was being cut sideways, detailed and precise even though Emilio looked so relaxed when cutting it. "Ah, that'd ruin my surprise, Marcelina, so you must wait." Emilio watched as Marcelina scrunched up her nose in impatience. "A surprise? It can't stay like that if I'm here, and I don't want to go anywhere else, so just tell me." Marcelina saw straight through his teasing, catching Emilio off guard minutely. He paused, lightly moving his lips to one side--revealing a dimple--before sighing almost regretfully. "Yes, like that, you'd be right. So I must put aside this nice moment for a better one later on. Perhaps you'll have more luck with Sergio? He's always free to chat." Marcelina pouted at being rejected, putting her hands on her hips and seeing him with a new light. Emilio liked to play coy and seemed to enjoy surprises. "Fine then, I'll see you at dinner, Emilio." She turned away and with a small wave over her shoulder, she went back to the deck.
The deck looked even more off-putting than usual even though by all appearances it was quite nice. The weather was pleasant, the sun was loving and the salty smell made Marcelina's base instincts pleased. The side and front water made her feel powerful, and the slap of waves on wood was a nice substitute for a fin on water. Marcelina seemed to be lucky, however, as the deck was suddenly void of the crowd it tended to support. There were just a few stragglers, either way up in the crow's nest or minding their own business with rope knots or cleaning. It took a moment to find Sergio at the helm, but the position most certainly did suit him. He let the deck wind collide with his body and dance with his clothes, in his hair, wild and as bright as the sun. His eyes reflected the sky, and the easy smile he had as he looked ever forward was the very picture of youth. The sun had loved his skin until it was a lovely, smooth olive, making the blue of his eyes that much more striking and the gold of his hair that much more realistic. Marcelina wondered how this boy-in-a-man was in any way related to Arturo. Sergio was too cheery, too outlandish, too easygoing, too lively.
However, Marcelina knew that was only outward appearances. While Sergio was indeed all those things, he was also powerful and clever. He had a serious side to his silliness, a frown to his smile, a sword next to that attractive hip. It was almost always hidden, so that when the time called for seriousness it seemed like a complete transformation. In that way, Sergio was like Arturo; the brothers fought exactly the same, bar experience. Sergio saw her coming and flashed a charming, win-all smile. "Hey, Marcy!" for a split-second, Marcelina nearly tripped. "What?" The butchering of her name took her completely off-guard, and she would've been angry at him for saying her name without her permission, however, Marcelina was her name, not Marcy. She continued to approach Sergio until they were side by side at the helm. Marcelina had to look up quite a bit to match Sergio's eyes. "Marcy. You never told me your name, but with Emilio and Arturo saying so much I figured it out. If Arturo wasn't so against me saying it I wouldn't have picked out a nickname like that, but I figured Marcy would work, right?"
He said it all rather fast, so Marcelina's answer was delayed for a few seconds so she could take it all in. Once it settled, Marcelina sagged internally with relief. "Is this, name-shortening a thing humans do with their friends?" When Sergio nodded, enthusiastic as ever, she gave him a small smile. "Then I guess I can allow it, since I'm human for now, though, to make it easier for me, 'Celi' is better." Marcelina couldn't help but feel strangely maternal around Sergio. He reminded her of an adolescent nereid: looking and for the most part behaving like an adult, but still sweet and impressionable like a child by default. "I guess I have to return the custom, right?" Sergio's excited bout of nodding was a clear enough answer. Marcelina thought over the possibilities, looking him up and down repeatedly. "Does...Aurelius work?"
It was funny, Sergio's clearly confused face and Marcelina's tentative, but an earnest one. Sergio tossed his head back and broke into a laugh that startled a few stray seagulls. "You know, Gio will work just fine. Most of the crew calls me that except Emilio, he just calls me Sergio." Marcelina almost pouted at him. Aurelius suited him just fine to her! "That's just a shortened version of your name! What is the symbolism in it?" Sergio laughed harder at her. "You're looking too deep into it, Celi. Usually, we use a shortened version of the original name, not an entirely new one. It's not supposed to have much symbolism except for the participants." Sergio shrugged lightly, a lop-sided smile smoothing over his face. Marcelina didn't understand it, but she nodded like she did. "Fine, Gio it is." she acquiesced.
Sergio smiled and clapped her shoulder. "Great! You know, Celi sounds kinda cute, it suits you." He winked playfully and Marcelina gave an exasperated roll of her eyes. "I'm not cute. I'm utter perfection, the beauty I possess is unlike any other." She held her head up high and as if to help her along, a warm sea wind teased her dark tresses. It went right over the younger's head and he snorted at her. "Arturo's a bad influence, Celi." He warned. Now she looked annoyed, huffing at him. "That's the second time that's been said to me! Arturo will no way influence me!" Crossing her arms over her chest, she tilted her head, scrutinizing him. "Besides, how are you two related in the first place?" She asked, tapping her foot on the wood. Sergio's sky blues met her greens, and he suddenly looked sober, maybe even burdened. "We're half-brothers, sharing the same father. Arturo's mother divorced our dad and he moved to England. Not a month later he was married to my mother and I was born soon after. Arturo was four at the time, and he thinks my mother stole his father and that an affair caused the original divorce. He's kept this grudge over me ever since, calling me a bastard and treating me lower than dirt. I handle it well most of the time, but when we argue, Arturo knows how to kill you in more ways than physically. It makes me want to hate him, but I really just want us to forgive and forget. Arturo's stubborn, though, and hates me, I'm sure of it." The atmosphere dropped so quickly as he spoke, and Marcelina felt her heart ache for this young man.
It was a terrible wrong to see him so melancholy and...unlike himself. At the same time, Sergio was much more like a true man in the moments, and Marcelina felt just as much respect for him as she had sisterly affection. "You are strong for carrying that burden. It wasn't your fault for being born, and Arturo is foolish for denying his duties as a brother." She pets his arm fondly, wanting his smile back instead of that distant frown. Sergio heaved a shaky sigh and one his arms--the one she was petting-- lifted to push her to him in a side hug. It was odd for Marcelina, having little experience with this, but following his actions, she wrapped her arm around his waist and squeezed. "What do you need from me? If you need guidance, I'll gladly be a sister to you." She felt him go stiff and choke out a sob. Fat tears dropped on her head and Marcelina looked up, slightly panicked. Sergio was freely crying, biting his lip.
"Sergio? I'm sorry, don't cry-" Marcelina found herself being lifted off her feet, crushed by two strong arms and a head of hair tucked into her neck. "You'd really d-do that for me, Celi? Even if I'm childish and totally not graceful and I don't think before I speak sometimes and I'm not the smartest guy?" He kept rambling and squeezing. Marcelina didn't mind the pin-pricks of pain for the moment, stroking his hair. "Of course, Sergio, of course." She soothed, feeling him hiccup and cling to her like a lost toy. Sergio shuddered in relief, lightly swinging her. Marcelina began to lose air now, squirming. "Sergio, please put me down, you're too strong for this." Sergio quickly put her down before she snapped in half, dusting off imaginary dirt with clumsy sweeps. When he was sure she was steady, he let out a small laugh, emotional but happy. "Sorry, I forget my strength, I'm just...I'm really grateful, Celi. I'm honored to call you sister." He started to giggle, gripping the helm with the vigor of a ressurected man and staring into the horizon with life in his eyes.
Marcelina smiled fondly, glad to see her charge in his proper state.