Chapter Text
A few hours before the ambassador left the palace
Mumbo fumbled with the fraying edges of his red bandana on his wrist as he walked towards the pier, gathering the courage to walk up to what seems to be the guard that's keeping an eye on The Stingray. There was a reason why Grian has always been the one to do diversion; it was simply because he was the best at it. It was quite impressive, how Grian can easily slip in and out of a character he's never been, mixing in with whatever crowd was in front of him. He was like a brightly coloured chameleon, constantly changing the way he acts with different people, similar to how the lizard changes its colours to blend in with its surroundings to survive. He's a distressed young man looking for help on finding his mother's house. He's an enraged worker rallying other workers to their cause. He's a strict patrol guard. A cunning salesman. An honest merchant. He was anything and everything.
Pearl was just as good as Grian, if not better, and it was honestly scary. More so if she and Grian teamed up. She could get any information she wanted; friendly enough to trust, sly enough to get away with it. If Mumbo believed in super human abilities, he might suspect that she could change shape with how well she can disguise herself as an entirely different person. The diversion calls for a helpless civilian? Pearl's already put on a dress and a different accent. Need a handsome young escort to town that could woo all the ladies and maybe get a discount at the local tavern? She's already slicked back her hair, put on her best pantaloons and charmed one of the tavern servers into giving them the best room for a nice price. She was the master of illusion--- she even managed to make Grian look like a very convincing woman once! That one was both impressive and terrifying. Hell, even Impulse can be very convincing at times, even if he's bad at lying!
Meanwhile, there was Mumbo. A stuttering mess who cannot even answer questions he knows the proper answers to. A nervous wreck who cannot make up a lie on the spot for the life of him, a deer stumbling on uneasy hooves when he is encountered with a scenario that he has not planned out in his head. Mumbo was simply bad. He's not good at pretending to be a helpless civilian, or a dashing gentleman, or even a humble fisherman, no-- he's only good at being himself.
Grian told him he would do fine as he is. Maybe he was wrong. Mumbo would hate to disappoint their captain, though.
So, without any other choice, he meekly peeked at the ship. A man smoked tobacco by the deck, glanced at him, and raised an eyebrow in question.
"O-Oh! Sorry ser," He shrank back into himself, barely even losing height but looking less and less intimidating with how much he fumbled at his words, "I was just-- um-- I just wanted to ask if this ship is modeled after The Stingray? I'm studying as a marine engineer for the kingdom and I just can't help myself. I've never seen it in person." The awe in his voice came easy-- The Stingray was absolutely magnificent, after all, even with its obvious weathered deck and chipping paint. Despite its flaws, it was certainly well kept and cared for, with newer sails and a newly varnished mast.
"This is The Stingray." Was the rough reply he got, and he was almost ready to immediately admit defeat, when the man cut his internal panicking by elaborating, "You have a good eye. Not everyone could recognize it just by looking at it, but since you're studying as a ship builder, I take it you are supposed to be able to know it, after all."
"Well, that is the dream I hope to reach, ser," he said timidly, fiddling with his fingers. And despite this being a supposed distraction, Mumbo found himself being truthful for that part. "I still need to draft a design as a final project, though. It's a bit hard, since the standard patterns we have are only for fishing vessels..."
"I don't really know much about ship designs in particular," the man replied, flicking the short end of his burnt up tobacco to the sea. It made Mumbo wince and deflate a little on the inside but the man continued to talk, "but the acting lieutenant is onboard and he's more knowledgeable than I am. If you want to, I can get him and you two can talk."
"You'd- you'd do that, ser?!" He says, absolutely starry eyed. In his peripheral vision, he saw a flash of something red pass by the same time the ship rocked on a particularly large wave hitting the hull. The man doesn't seem to notice.
"Yes. I'm Steffen, the Stingray's on-board surgeon, so you can drop the, 'ser.' Doc is fine. Lieutenant Tango is the knighted engineer and the first lieutenant for this crew, but he's currently on the shore. However, Skizz is the next best person to ask about designs. He is our acting lieutenant." The man- or doctor Steffen, rather- says with a rough chuckle, his consonants hard and vowels firm, blending into each other like smooth, powdered redstone. "You don't sound like you're from here. Are you from The Battery?"
Mumbo worried he might have just given himself away, but he quickly figured that lying at this point in time would not be beneficial at all. He had to keep the man talking one way or another, and if that meant sprinkling some truths over the persona he's building, then sprinkle it he would.
"Yes! I came from The Battery," he said quite excitedly for some reason, "I'm... Uh..."
Oh no. Oh no. I need to say a different name though, don't I? Mumbo thought with increasing panic. Grian and Pearl usually used some sort of local name to the place where they were currently staying, but Mumbo's already confirmed that he was from The Battery. Oh, darn it. I'm so bad at this! "You can just call me by my last name, Cruz. Yes, I guess you can call me that."
"Why do you sound unsure of your own name?" The doctor asked with a chuckle, his sharp features oddly comforting. He sounded a little apprehensive, but Mumbo's nervousness at approaching him probably made him feel less threatened. Not that Mumbo would actually be a threat to anyone, though.
That's a bad way to sound trustworthy, Mumbo internally winced. "Well, it's quite the common inland name, so I figured it would be difficult to say," Mumbo tried to explain, "but if you really want to try, my name is Festus. Festus Cruz." That should do it! He thought in triumph. It was believable and common enough to pass as a normal name of pretty much anybody, plus it wasn't his actual, real name (aside from the last name, but he was out of time, okay?) so Mumbo counted that as a win. Or half a win. Still, it was a win.
"Oh, so that is how you say your name?" Dr. Steffen asked as he led Mumbo to the forecastle of the ship where most of the crew probably were-- which was perfect, because it was the exact opposite side of the Captain's cabin, if Mumbo remembered correctly. The Gilded Empire shipwrights designed most of their ships that way. "That is familiar, actually. I think I've heard it around The Battery during our visits. It means 'happy' in the local tongue, no?"
Mumbo hummed. "Yes. But I do hope you understand that I'd rather be called, 'Cruz the marine engineer,' than, 'Happy the marine engineer.'" He said with lighthearted firmness, and the doctor laughed as he opened the door to their quarters, revealing a few of the crew that were left on the ship. Mumbo took note of the number of people on the ship out of habit-- one, two, three, four-- five, if you count the doctor that just arrived. Six, if you count him in total. Seven, if you include Grian. More if there were other crew mates below deck and on the shore. Naval ships usually have more than a hundred people on board, but since The Stingray was made for speed and not cargo, it probably had a smaller crew.
"Most certainly, Cruz. Now you have to introduce yourself to my friends. Ser Skizz!" The doctor called, and the chattering quiets down a little. A man covered in aggressive-looking scars turned at the name and approached both of them.
He had dark brown locks, a trimmed beard and a physique only a sailor similar to Impulse could have-- burly and strong with muscles, the only difference being that this guy was so much taller. He was taller than Mumbo even! An absolute first! But despite his intimidating appearance, he had a jolly look on his face, a grin painted on his lips.
"Doc! You have a friend with you!" Lieutenant Skizz claimed with a small surprise. "Come in, come in! You are?"
"Cruz, ser." Mumbo says, offering his hand out for a handshake. The lieutenant grabs it firmly, his touch strong and grounding. "I'm a scholar of the Red Kingdom studying as a marine engineer."
"Nice meeting you, buddy. Andrew Koski, but everyone calls me Skizz. Doc never told me he has a friend from the Red Kingdom!" The man said, patting his back with just enough force to make Mumbo nervous. Skizz was very strong.
"Just met him today. He knew the model of the ship just by looking at it!" The doctor said as he crossed his arms, grinning at the acting lieutenant. "He's here to ask about ship designs."
"Impressive!" Skizz said with an approving expression on his face. "Well, I'm not as good as Tango," Skizz started, "but I'd hate to disappoint a guest." He said with a wide grin. "As an ally to the Red Kingdom, we're glad to assist one of their scholars. Do you want to look around the ship?"
"If it's not too much of a bother, ser," Mumbo replied meekly. "I'd love to."
"Well then buddy, follow my lead!" Skizz said, and the three of them left the common space.