Nico started momentarily, shifting his attention from the ship out on the water back to the party at hand. He stared blankly at Alexis, and then Dolphus and the sword-handed man (his name …?) After a moment, he seemed to register the predicament.
“Oh. Of course, mademoiselle.” He bowed, slightly, smiled, and began to take a practiced step into the boat, a step so well-balanced that it betrayed every modicum of comfort and experience in such a maneuver.
Comfort was gone. He stumbled, his foot landing hard in the bottom of the boat, hard enough to send the gunwale rocking disturbingly close to the water’s surface. He recomposed himself almost immediately, however, quickly bringing his second foot into the boat in a wide stance, one foot behind the other, arms out, one clutching his cane. He didn’t move until he had completely regained his balance.
“Ah. It seems my … capability is no longer needed.” He was staring at the ghostly sailors, but mostly out of resigned interest rather than shock.
What have you gotten yourself into, Markl?
He glances at the Mariner with as withering a look as possible - which was quite a possible thing, with years of practice. What a flirt.
“Yes, captain,” He faces Alexis again, lowering himself into a seat. He laughs a low laugh, not sarcastic or sardonic, but genuinely happy, a light jab. “Your orders?”