You decide to stay in this hand. Kepper and Dagerman do as well, though you get the impression Dagerman is simply following Kepper. The risk is high, but no one is backing down. That kid is still unwavering. You read clear in Vetica's eyes that she is counting on you, as per usual. Luckily you're not in the business of disappointing her.
All the remaining players have put 3 out of their 5 coins in the pot when Kepper reveals the turn;
You're certainly not looking at the strongest hand in poker, but it ain't bad at all. You feign disappointment in the card anyway. Dagerman doesn't appear any kind of pleased with the cards while Kepper nods to herself in approval. You're venturing into dangerous territory, so you decide to check. Dagerman does as well. Kepper clearly contemplates raising one more, but ultimately decides not to.
She flips the final community card;
You appear to be living up to your nickname. Seeing as there's no possible way for them to have a better hand than you, you go all in. If looks could kill, Dagerman would have slit your throat and watched you choke on the blood. Hard to blame him, though. To say 'Lord Windreave is not a boss you want to report you failed to' is a severe understatement. Dagerman folds with a grunt and turns his cutting gaze to Kepper. She studies you up and down, trying to discern if you're bluffing or not. You shake your head slowly, advising her not to try it, just to be nice. She's clearly unsure if that is also part of a bluff though. At long last, she throws her cards in: the seven of hearts and the seven of spades.
A full house like yours, she would have just barely still lost. Vetica gives you the slightest smile, as though she always had absolute faith in you. Kepper glances over to her captain nervously, and shrinks under his glare. Hang in there, you say internally, half hoping she can read your thoughts, lose for me here and I'll save you after.
You go ahead and claim your winnings, pulling the stack of coins towards you. One rolls off the table and onto the floor, stopping just a few feet away towards Dagerman. As you lean down to pick it up, however, another metallic gleam catches your eye under the table. Instantly you recognize it to be the barrel of a gun, which would be less concerning were it not aimed directly towards your face.
Within a fraction of a second, you jerk back. A thundering bang shocks the room as a searing pain streaks across the side of your head, the bullet just barely grazing the skin. A mindless rush of adrenaline carries you through as you lunge forward over the edge of the table before Dagerman can stand. Your forehead slams into his nose first before the rest of your body makes contact, the force of your tackle sending you both toppling to the ground. Chaos consumes the room, but you are blind and deaf to all but the man beneath you. He clocks you square in the jaw with his free hand as you wrestle to get the gun out of his other. As you recoil, he manages to roll you off and into a choke hold under his one arm as he fumbles with his gun in the other. You swing your head back and break his nose again. You try fighting the gun out of his grip once more, to no avail as he cracks it against your temple. While his hand is still close to your face, you thrust forward, biting at it.
You catch his index finger within your teeth and clench with all your might. The horrendous crunch reverberates through your skull. The metallic taste of blood drenches your mouth.
With a bellow of pain he drops the gun, and you drop his mangled finger. You roll out of his grasp and draw your gun. Without a moment's hesitation, you aim and fire, painting Dagerman's brains across the floor.
You turn, ready to face the next danger but grind to a halt as you look up to see the business end of a pistol shakily pointed to your head. Past it you see Kepper, frozen. Behind her eyes is nothing but fear.
BANG.
Your body flinches violently at the gunshot, but you quickly realize you've not been hit. Kepper, however, jerks and collapses to the floor with a sharp cry. She curls up, clutching her shoulder and convulsing with sobs. You look across the room to see Vetica lowering her smoking gun. The room stills, but there is tumultuous clamor in the rest of the tavern. You now see the blood splattered on the floor and walls. Two of Dagerman's men are collapsed were they stood before, one more is dead in the doorway. Ivan is slumped against the wall, no signs of life in his face. Your other crewmate, Laus, crouches beside him to check for a pulse anyway.
Vetica strides to the door, shoving the lifeless body out as she slams it shut then jams a chair under the handle. Without skipping a beat, she turns and rushes across the room to the window. "We need to get out of here, now," she hisses.
You look back to the kid before you. Blood has soaked through her clothes and now pools on the floor. You dive to her side, and gently pry her arms open so you can remove her coat and access her wound. You tear your shemagh scarf off over your head and press it firmly to her bleeding shoulder. Her wails rip through your heart.
"You shot her," you snarl, cradling Kepper.
"We don't have time for this," Vetica asserts, then whistles a call out the now-open window.
"She's just a kid!" you rebuke.
She turns sharply and comes stand over you.
"I protect my own," she states with unfaltering resolve, though her eyes are full of pity.
She goes back to the window to greet Smoke, her white dragon. "Get Ivan," Vetica orders Laus.
She then meets your gaze. "Bring the girl."
You gather Kepper up in your arms and take her to the window. It's a short jump down onto Smoke's saddled back, and you land it without to much trouble, but it still riddles you with anxiety to be shaking the kid around so much. In a few more moments, Laus and Vetica make it down with Ivan's body. Overburdened, the dragon takes off unsteadily as you all cling tightly to his saddle. Leaving the frenzied tavern behind, you fly over the island for only about a minute before landing on Holiday flagship. Orders are shouted, bells are rang, the ship comes alive as all aboard spring to action. While Vetica commands the ship to sail, you take Kepper below deck to find Hodgins, the crew medic. Quick on the draw as always, he directs you to place her on a table. You the miserably familiar routine as he begins his work of alcohol and tweezers and threads and needles and bloody rags. Kepper squeezes your left hand in a crushing grip as you try to hold her down steady with your right. She cries and sobs for what feels like an eternity before she falls silent and unconscious.
Hodgins assures you she's just passed out from the shock and blood loss, and won't die. You remain by her side until the operation is done, and there's no more to do but let her rest. With Hodgins' help, you carefully relocate her to your personal quarters and set her on the bed. He offers to watch over her while you go take care of yourself, and you accept. You'd hardly even registered the spilt blood now dried on your temple and the side of your head. Or the blood around your mouth. The crunch of flesh and bone echoes back through your mind. The chunks of brain spread across the floor. Ivan's dead eyes.
You barely manage to find a bucket in time before your stomach purges itself. You groggily stumble about until you find an unused rag to clean yourself up with, then slump back to the floor. You wipe away the blood and vomit, then simply sit knees up, cradling your head within your hands. This isn't the first time you've spilled blood, or killed a man, or seen a friend die. Why aren't you used to it by now?
Eventually you pick yourself up and slowly stagger your way up to Vetica's cabin. She's got a bottle of wine you need to wash out your mouth with. Crossing the upper deck, you get dizzy from the busy bustling of your crewmates running to and fro, the whirr of the engine, the all-consuming Haze. But you trudge on. Upon reaching her doors, you can't be bothered to knock, and instead just let yourself in. You get across her room and over to the fancy wooden wine cabinet. After a moment of searching, you find it - Moon Tears, a sweet white cactus wine from Sunport. You had given this bottle to Vetica as a gift a couple years back, but you desperately need that taste of home right now. You pop it open and don't care to get a cup. Time blurs.
You don't know how long it's been when you finally hear the door creak open. You look up from the floor to see Vetica taking off her coat and staring at you with tired eyes. Wordlessly, she comes over and sits on the floor beside you. She holds out her hand in a request for the bottle, and you hand it to her. She takes a sip and sighs deeply, then holds the bottle up to observe. There isn't much left.
"It's just one of those days," she mutters.
"I'm sick of these fucking days," you grumble, a loose anger stirring within. "Sick of this fucking life. What do we do this for? Money? There's ways to get money that don't involve... all this shit. All this pain."
"Freedom," Vetica answers.
You scoff wryly.
"Freedom to shoot a damn kid. And kill a bunch of people just doing the same thing as us."
"We're not the same as them. It was self defense."
"She wasn't going to shoot me. She doesn't have it in her."
"There was no way of knowing that, Anders. That wasn't a chance I could take."
A scowl crosses your face, but you don't respond. It was better you be shot than the kid, but you know Vetica can't accept that. The Holiday crew is a family, and family comes first, no matter what, that's how it's always been. But you are beginning to believe you don't want to be a part of this family anymore. It aches to think of leaving them. Vetica, your crewmates - they've been with you through everything, they've been your everything for over half your life. This family and the pirating life are all you know. And you know you're not a good man. You will never have the right to an honest, peaceful life, not after all that you've done. You'll never truly escape this world... but you still want to try.
"I'm done," you say after a long pause.
"Need help back to your quarters?" she offers. "Kepper was looking for you."
"No, no, Vetica, I'm done. With all of this. I won't do it anymore."
"You're drunk. Let's just get you some rest for now, huh? Don't need the kid seeing you like this."
She stands up and sets the bottle on the table, and holds her hand out to you. You grimace and knock it away.
"Dammit, Vetty, I mean it. My mind's not gonna change. It's been a long time coming, you know it has."
In a dread silence, she picks up the bottle and downs the remaining bit of wine, then pitches it across the room. With a loud crash, the glass shatters all over the floor. "What, that's it then? You're turning your back on us? Fucking, now of all times? You have a duty to this family, Anders!" she hisses.
"I'm tired, cap'n," you speak softly, meeting her wavering gaze. "Please."
The anger in her face dissolves to misery. You watch as she tries to steady herself with closed eyes and deep breaths, fighting back down to a stoic expression. "Fine," she whispers at last.
Vetica extends her hand to you once more. You take it this time, and she pulls you to your feet, staring deep into your eyes.
"Go find out where the kid is from. We'll drop you both off when we can."
"Yes, cap'n. Thank you."
She yanks you into an embrace. "Don't call me that," she murmurs.
You stand there and just hold her for a moment. "Vetica."
She lets go, and with a polite nod, you stumble your way past the broken glass to the door. Your heart is heavy, yet a weight has lifted from your shoulders. As you reach for the handle, she calls to you.
"Anders. You'll always be part of the family."
You pause, and answer over your shoulder.
"I know. That's what I'm afraid of."