Drabble 1.

[bearinmind]

One day, Aven brought home a pirate.

He was, in Aven's own words, a strapping young lad. In Seren's, he was filthy.

"If you wish to stay here," she says, her journal planted firmly upside Aven's wilfully dense head, "then you might learn to ask in advance before you bring home strays. Why is he here?"

"Because," bubbles Aven, as eager as always. He bounces on his heels and smiles winningly, charmingly, with a flash of pearly whites and a flick of a tongue against the roof of his mouth. A strange habit of his; one she's resolved never to ask after. "Because, Seren, he's a pirate. Amazing things, pirates—just look at that leg! We could learn a lot from him—built it himself, he said. One time offer." He pauses, ducks back before her journal can make its encore. "To show us how he did it," he adds.

"You already know how he did it."

Aven looks affronted. Formulates a retort, as quick as a skidcat on a glass floor.

Seren, eyebrows raised, beats him to the punch. "By your own name, Inventor. If you couldn't assemble an exact likeness while blindfolded, I'll eat my journal. And so I ask you once more: why?"

"… Pirates are cool."