Catherine
*The dark blood dripping along the ridge of the arm he held against the wound was blurry to Adenium's eyes. Be it the fight-or-slight beginning to lose its sharper edge, but he could hardly prop himself up upon an elbow. Muted words fluttered in from before him, seemingly spelling themselves out upon the splintered floorboards. The blob that he supposed was Gila huffed, turned tail, and flew off; the ironic size difference between the victorious Circini and the half-blind Gila couldn't have been more evident. There was an odd gap of time, and suddenly, a huffing Circini stood in front of him, the cleaner of his talons extended. Aside from a pained seethe, Adenium didn't give Circini the luxury of a response. Rather, he took the extended talons- not because he chose to, but because he didn't have much of an option. Circini propped Adenium's good arm over the back of his neck, avoiding the raised spikes along his back- Adenium could still feel how shaky Circini still was- and began to trudge him back under the deck.*

*The carpet stained red. There were no crew members to help Circini with the chore of aiding Adenium to the off-white room across the ship; most were still up on the deck, 'sleeping'.*

*The room itself clearly didn't see much use. Aside from the obviously yellowing of the paint on the walls, Adenium uselessly reasoned from his cushioned chair, there was dust on the countertops. He could see it billow just along the edge as Circini overdramatically pushed what few items- mostly papers, a few bottles- still cluttered the countertop out of the way, with many crashing against the floor. He instead slapped a needle, thread, and a couple of bottles of some unrecognizable goop that clearly came from the Rainwing kingdom on it instead. Circini's determination to suture the wound further confused Adenium. Had he just been left to die, Adenium, now an auditory witness to Circini's crimes, would be out of Circini's spikes, without Circini being held liable*

*Whatsoever. Yet here he was, thought Adenium's cluttered mind, already trying to steady the shaking hand that'll be clearing up the wound.*

*He suffered through it with a clenched fist and breathing through further clenched teeth. It wasn't the worst wound he'd experienced, by far, but it was one of the few along the sensitive skin of his underbelly, and he flinched away from Circini's every touch as though he expected Circini to suddenly take his claws along the wound. By the time Circini had begun to wrap a bandage just along the line of the cut, coming around between his wings and over his sail, Adenium had lost enough blood to feel lightheaded, odd. When Circini stepped back from him, though, he stood back up, and cleared his throat.*
Marian
The shaken Nightwing - talons covered in the blood of a friend he figured he'd lose - simply listened in silence at Adenium's questions, and criticisms. He deserved every word of it- and *So* Much worse for what he had done... A look of grief and strife washed over his face, it was evident he had cried- and cried more than he had tears. As much as he wished he could tell a clever lie to get out of this- the feeling of being judged for his crimes for the first time, even if it weren't before a judge, or a court... But no matter how much he wished - and no matter how much a part of him whispered in his ear that it might even work given Adenium's current state from blood loss- he knew he had to tell the truth- he had to face whatever consequences telling the truth to Adenium would have, if was his duty as the judge, jury, and executioner of so many Rainwings- to tell the whole truth, and nothing but the truth- so help him moons.

With a moment of uncomfortable delay, Circini let out another sigh, his talons held together with enough strength to crush a scavenger to mince. "Yes... It was true... Every. Single Word... You don't have to believe me- perhaps you've already made up your mind, and I accept that- whether you leave and tell the authorities or not, I refuse to regret saving *Your* Life when I've stolen so... So many..." He held his head down in shame, another pause as he gulped in his chest before continuing. "Yes, not a single member of my crew knows the truth about me- not a single benefactor, business partner, acquaintance, close friend... Only *You* Know the truth. I admit my wrongdoing- though that is not atonement, nor justification for it. But know this- even if you don't believe me, I would *Never* In a million moon cycles lay a talon on a *Single* Member of my crew, Adenium. They mean everything to me- and even now- as you lay in my medical bay, a bleeding liability- the same holds true for you. I never planned on hurting you- I never planned on hurting anyone- no... Never again."

He inched back a bit- averting his eyes from Adenium's gaze in raw guilt for a split-second, but was able to meet them before they closed again. "In a world saturated with evil- I had to become evil- a greater evil than that which surrounded me, to bring about any glimmer of hope beyond a smile to the customer... I always wanted to help people, that was true... I tried, three moons I *Tried*, Adenium." His face and voice were strained as he looked at his blood-covered talons. "But I could never be more than a vendor- I could never be more than a salesman- I could never be more than surviving- and while it might be true for some... Surviving was never good enough for me, I hated living every day knowing someone was suffering, a dragonet going hungry in the cold, library scrolls lost to time through decay or fire, blood spilt over trivial things like gold - and worst of all, I hated the fact that there were dragons... Like you, that had to make ends meet through a career in death itself. I met good dragons- good dragons that killed for a living... I understood it wasn't what they wanted to do with their lives- they had no choice- the royals are complacent in the suffering of their lower-class citizens. I attended so many meetings- and all I ever got was 'What can be done about it?' or 'They're poor because they're *Lazy*.' no one - *No one* Wanted to hear- wanted to help- and it drove me mad- If the rich and famous wouldn't lift a talon- I had to become strong enough to do it *For* Them. I had to cover my talons in blood, so no one had to do it ever again- unless it was taking my head for what I've done."

He rested his face in his talons- trying to ignore the scent of copper that oozed from crimson beads and streams - his voice sounded like he was going to burst into tears again any moment. "You really think I *Enjoyed* Doing it? You think I enjoyed taking the lives of other dragons? I had never hit another dragon- let alone... Killed one. I tried to make it painless- I devised devices not of torture, but ones to painlessly - take their lives... I hated every second of it... I quit nearly every time, but Gila roped me back in every time- he said, 'I had already come too far to quit now' - or maybe it was 'We're making too much money to stop now'?" He chuckled at the absurdity of it. "Believe it or not- he wasn't always the monster you saw back there... He has a story perhaps most tragic of any I've come across- and in truth, I'm probably the *Only* Dragon under the sun that knows a single word of it." 

Circini stood up and walked to the door- but stopped and turned one last time, his head still hung in sorrow. "Every night- I see their faces... The Rainwings I killed- I remembered every face... Every name... Every story. The entire time I did it- I had to distract myself with the idea that- once I had killed enough, I could be *Free*- I could help anyone I wanted. I could fill pockets with more scales than they could hold- and those pockets would never be mine. Not once have I truly profited off of killing- Every. Single Scale... Outside of keeping me alive, goes to my crew, orphanages, homeless shelters, hospitals, pantries, and the education of young dragons in the Scorpion Den so they can reach for the better life many never had the ability to- not because I fear what they would become- but because I fear what the world would do *Too* Them..."

With that he left to wash his talons and tend to the dragons on-board the ship who had been sedated rather than *Killed*- he woke them up, treated any wounds- though none were half as terrible as Adenium's - and fed them a made-up story, to which they eagerly accepted - and were only glad to see their good captain alive as well as each other. When he finally returned, he came back with a clean blanket- and threw it over Adenium while he rested- the day went on- occasionally he checked Adenium's vitals to ensure he was still alive, even applying a numbing agent around the wound with a glass needle and syringe so the sandwing wouldn't wake up with pain - In the moments between caring for Aden and trying to sleep - as the situation had utterly exhausted him, he pondered what the sandwing would do with him when he was well enough to leave, would he ever see him again? He chuckled to himself- no- probably never again... A sentiment that stung more than perhaps it should have- it almost angered him at the thought of losing what was essentially just a stranger- perhaps he was losing his mind- perhaps he'd fit in just swell in a prison block- but with his crimes, he figured he'd get nothing short of execution, but for some reason- that didn't really bother him- not as much as never seeing this sandwing- who would probably be the one to make the call to drop the ax on his neck. It was funny how such things worked, he thought.
Allen
NO. I WILL GET ACROSS THAT THIS IS A GENUINELY FUN USE OF MY TIME, BUT DUE TO TIME CONSTRAINTS AND SOCIAL DRAMA, I CAN ONLY GET ON AT CERTAIN TIMES. AAAAA THIS IS TOO GOOD AND I STRUGGLE TO EXPRESS THAT IN WORDS
Catherine
*His head throbbed. It throbbed as though the moons themselves had fallen on it; picking his stiff neck up from the pillow it had been placed upon felt like a chore. He had to blink a few times for his eyesight to return from the blur it was previously, and the blobs slowly took form until he could lay eyes on his own talons again.*

*He was back in 'his' barren room. His bag, that he had haphazardly tossed on the mattress he so adored, had been hung in the dresser. He now occupied the bed, in a position as if he'd curled himself up. He never knew he slept like that, considering he'd slept in a significantly more uncomfortable cot the years prior. Someone had carried him there at some point after he was patched up in the medical bay.*

Speaking of which, *He thought, pulling the talons he wasn't supporting himself with up to his chest. The bandage had been reapplied at some point while he was unconscious- it was clean. The wound itself stung like hell as he pressed on it, but it was also paired with this strange numbness he didn't quite understand; maybe a numbing agent, like the ones he'd heard of from the rare passerby Rainwings in the Sand Kingdom.*

*He did the same double-check of his passions as he'd have done if he was knocked out in the streets. His tail satchels, as some point, had been taken off of his and now lay on the nightstand. They were closed, and the imprint of their contents still pressed against their sides. His left ear flicked, confirming the two earring he never took off hadn't been swiped; they weren't expensive, but they were light and easily takable. Besides, they held a lot of sentimental value.*

*Outside; his only indicator, as told by his perked ears, was the waves lapping against the hull. They had stopped sounding like jeers, which was probably just a figment of his prior indignation- but they were louder, front-centric. The ship had left port at some point, and he could only assume it were on the trek to the next place to pick up and drop off cargo. His eyes grazed over the still-unopened envelope enscrawled with the formal 'Welcome'.* Right... *He thought.* Circini. *His thoughts on the midnight dragon seemed just as confused as they were prior.*

*The hall hadn't gained any crew members since they last left, Adenium gathered- it was still just as unpopulated as it was prior. He could tell, between the cracks in the floorboards above and the stairwell far behind the hall, that it was night- the night just after or a week later, he couldn't tell. The carpet still had small red marks of what he assumed was his blood along them, but they'd been hastily cleaned by some random employee.*

*It became clear where the remaining staff had been as he reached the stairwell up to the top deck- many were sitting at the makeshift tables and barrels, playing quiet games of cards or dice. The smell of cheap liquor hung in the air. As if by queue, many of them paused for a moment to shoot a strange not at Adenium, but at the bandage wrapped between his wings and under his stomach- as if whatever bullshit story Circini fed to then made this seem all the more severe, or that he probably shouldn't be up and walking quite yet- maybe both. Adenium, still strangely fuzzy, made his way up to the top deck to get his bearings, maybe lay down for a moment.*

*The bleached wood had already been repaired where he was thrown into it, and where Circini had dug his claws into it; whatever they'd used to fill it in left an unnatural white mark in the otherwise tan wood, permanently embedding the fight's scars into the ship.*

*A quick glance out revealed that the ship was, in fact, out at sea by this point- the only light Adenium has to work with was the moons and their plentiful stars in the sky. It had to be about 1 in the morning, he reasoned.*