A bright red light flashed into the summer-like air, filling it for a moment with a second sun. Around twenty pairs of female eyes glanced away to the direction it had come from, mumbles starting to spill from between lips. Mumbles became murmurs, murmurs, questions and soon there was a rumble floating over the decks and more pairs of sleepy eyes began to peer out of the two main doors to the cabins below - as well as the central hole in the deck leading to the hold. It was a mighty rumble, full of uncertainty and wonder, with cries of, "What is it?" and, "Captain, I thought there was no other ships expected here?"

Philomel herself still stood at the prow of the ship, a great frown over her features. Brow furrowed, lips downturned she looked between the flare shooting into the sky and Veridian, confusion plain.

"Why are they hailing us?" she asked, mostly befuddled, "Malachi did not say that any other ships would be around here ... did he?"

She spoke of the pirate king, Malachi, to him her ship technically belonged. As a captain of the Feisty Fox, which had been own by the captain Tanglebeard before her, she owed it to the king to provide a tax every quarter. And a healthy tax she usually gave him, at the same time making a good profit for the Gilded Lily's coffers and those of the ship's fifty seven strong crew. All women who had been in the sex profession, but had wanted a life filled with more adventure so applied to be here. On the first pirate floating brothel. Or rather, it had initially been a brothel. Now it did a lot more of the piracy.

Yet being a ship under the pirate king gave Philomel access to information - of the other pirating vessels and their current areas of roman. When she had sent a messenger dove with her plans to the king, she had recieved ones back saying that Malachi knew of no other ships heading to seek out the supposed treasure at the bottom of hell. It was strange, then, to see a ship here that would happily hail them, for usually in their knowledge they were met with undue anger and had to endure much chasing before the Feisty Fox led them to safety.

You know ... you did decide not to put up the bone flag.

Philomel glanced up to the middle mast, at where the unfortunate soul given crow's nest duty today was still pointing over the edge of the wooden balcony. True, there was no black flag there, flying the most excellent embroidered white fox skull, which identified their ship to other pirates. The purpose in not putting it up was largely due the fact that they had not been expecting ... anyone, and so such dramatic demonstrations were not necessary.

"Matriarch!" yelled a huge voice. And thundering could be heard coming up the stairs to the poop deck.

Looking over Philomel and Veridian saw a huge woman, with a thin cut of blonde hair and clothed in strong leather armour running towards them. In her hand she held a massive sword, bare and naked and glinting, and her eyes were wild.

"Matriarch! What is going on?"

It was then Philomel noticed that the thundering rumbling from the questioning crew was still ongoing. She looked over at the woman - a warrior by the name of Maverik who was the captain when Philomel was not on board. As they exchanged lost looks a second light flashed into the sky accompanied with a second blast of noise.

"Matriarch ...?" she yelled, questioning.

"Oh throw up a hail flare back," Philomel sighed. "We might as well meet them on kind grounds. But below decks ... prepare five canons on either side. And someone find me Mao."

She began to walk over the deck, waving a hand in the air, striding to go to talk to - and calm - her wild crew.