Gilded Bay No quarter from these chains

Arturo could not make out what prompted him to make the greeting, aside from the simple thing that it was what etiquette required of him to do. The sea witch had very little of it which the gangster found to be more disturbing then anything else about his split personality. They could hear one another, sometimes, and sometimes memories remained but most of the time when Arturo attempted to drawn from the sea witch's memories of encounters he drew blanks. There was a small comfort in believing that this also worked the other way. Some things remained private and though this was as disturbing to Arturo as it was comforting there wasn't anything he could do about it. It was easy to believe that the sea witch would deal with the consequences of anything he'd done but there was no guarantee of who he'd be when he woke up. Sometimes it was Riptide for days and others he was himself: Arturo.

She returned his greeting with a simple one of her own and then without offering anything else, or her own name for that matter, she was suddenly demanding his own. Arturo gave her a slow blink, hardly amused by the lack of manners. What was it with the wolves in these Wilds? Thankfully, he was in a fairly good mood, jovial at being free from the sea witch's control. A quiet hum left the gangster as he regarded her, watching as she nudged the bird towards him. A slight shake of his head was given in a gentleman's decline. “A lady should always be first,” Arturo responded with subtle, playful cheek though he was, of course, quite serious.