Devil’s in the Grey Vol. 4
Smoke & Stars
The skies hung low as Nineveh’s Atlaua skimmed across glittering waves toward a new place he knew intimately—Bethroa. This town struck a different chord for Verisa after days of decadent distraction: it was ugly,rugged, & grimy,but alive with heart. According to Nineveh Bethroa had a reputation as dreamy as it was hypnotic. Verisa peered over the cruiser’s side as the town grew larger on the horizon,her young mind unable to name the uneasy thrill climbing her spine.
Bethroa was in a way cute yet unmistakably worn from time and tides. It was a renegade city pulsing with life.The culture was sharp-edged and salt-kissed, weathered by rough n’ tumble sailors with intricate tattoos smoked by the docks, modern pirates bartered over salvaged tech and exotic trinkets, hookers stood on nearly every corner putting their silver tongues to work as they attempted to sale their fleshly wares ,outlaw bikers roared down oil-slick streets, and dominatrixes in spiked heels kept their own kingdom of clientele.
All of it stitched together by the glow of neon lights and the far-off rhythms of electric guitars, 90s era techno rave, and reggae metal echoing through alleyways like the heartbeat of some great and sleeping beast.
Nineveh docked the Atlaua near a rust-bitten pier. They didn’t head for a resort—no one did in Bethroa. Instead,they checked into a roach motel of sorts where the sheets were at least moderately clean, the rates were dirt cheap, and the walls were thin enough to hear late-night laughter or arguments from neighboring rooms.
After checking in & getting themselves settled in, Verisa and her mother wandered off on foot, baskets in hand. The streets smelled of brine, spice, and frying oil. Market vendors called out over the clamor of the crowd. With laughter and mild haggling, they bought shrimp, crab, lobster, and smoked fish. Her mother even took her out for ice cream & bought pairs of shoes they spotted at a local thrift store.
Meanwhile, Nineveh dragged Cloudy through a winding alley maze until they reached a butcher shop tucked into the side of an old cantina. Inside, a man with thick forearms and a white apron was carving beef so cleanly it looked surgical. When he spotted Nineveh, he let out a booming laugh and embraced him like a brother.
They cracked open cold Spirit Bear beers, stepped out into the front of the shop to sit under an umbrella table,and passed around a plate of cured meats & savory cheeses then they smoked on the Dragon Kiss Cohibas that the butcher offered them.
The butcher was an old friend of Nineveh’s named Hatcher Sabatha. Hatcher was unlike anyone Verisa’s father had ever met. He was half Indonesian & half Russian, with piercing piss yellow eyes with a vicious coldness in them and a jaw like carved stone, he wore a butcher’s apron over his tattooed chest. His Russian accent was thick, his words slicing through the air like a cleaver.
The banter between Nineveh and Hatcher was warm & strange in terms of vibes. From Cloudy’s perspective it seemed almost intimate like a meeting between old flames or a divorced couple that still kept up cordial relations. According to Nineveh Hatcher was the man who taught him how to sail & at one point He’d once been known as “ The Marauder “ & was one of the most feared pirates in all of Lemuria.
However the glazing didn't go on for too long because Hatcher would put a stop to it himself by appreciating the high praise but stating firmly that he was through with the game & that those days were over with. Even still,the weight of his fame clung to him as if mud on worn out work boots.
As their chat continued it was revealed that Hatcher these past few weeks wasn’t only filling the more common orders from local clients but was also just preparing the meats for the upcoming party Nineveh had invited Cloudy & his family to. Additionally, Hatcher proudly announced that he was also part of the event's early phase of entertainment.
Cloudy raised an eyebrow.
“You… sing man?”
“No,” Hatcher said with a low chuckle. “I preach.”
“Preach?” Cloudy squinted. “ What kind of butcher gives sermons?”
“A sermon. On gratitude. On the beast we carve to live. It is a tradition. It honors the hunt, it inspires hunger... and also respect.”
Cloudy looked ready to question more, but Nineveh shot him a glance. “Let him have his secrets for now Ace,you'll see when we get to the big bash,” he warned. “ besides Spoilers kill the magic dude.”
Later on, Nineveh haggled a deal for some heart-shaped steaks—a creation born from an old joke between old friends and now a popular shop novelty. After parting ways the two men bought a cheap barbecue grill, charcoal, a cooler, and drinks before heading back to the motel.
Back at the motel as the sun dipped behind Bethroa’s jagged skyline, the grill lit up & Smoke curled into the air.As the steaks seared, Verisa’s mother swayed barefoot to reggae, her eyes locked with her husband’s. The joy that bloomed on her face made Verisa’s chest ache. She had never seen her parents like this—together, they were so carefree & unburdened, the toxicity of the bad old days was erased & only affection remained in its place.
Nineveh, in his usual mischievous spirit, set up a poker game on the picnic bench with Verisa. They played for a haul of candy and sweet pastries he’d wrestled away from a local bakery. Though he won hand after hand, Nineveh folded in the final round and slid the entire winnings across the table to Verisa. “For the calmest hands in the sea,” he said, winking. “And you've got the soul of a storm little lady.”
Verisa beamed with pride That night as she greedily devoured her haul. As the stars above bled across the sky, Nineveh recounted tales of his voyages—how he’d once escaped a typhoon by sailing through the ribcage of a sleeping leviathan, how he’d bartered moon pearls with Marduk sky-traders from a floating bazaar above the Dagon Fjords, The Clockwork Sea, where time moved backward and sailors aged in reverse.And how an AI named Amias had guided him through a ruined station buried in the rings of Sebulba, where ghosts of explorers whispered in binary.
Verisa watched him with wide eyes, unable to tell what was truth, fiction, or somewhere in between. But it didn’t matter because everything felt alive. And for one perfect evening, Verisa lived not in the shadows of the past, but in the warmth of their forgotten joy—stitched together by music, adventure , and starlight.
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