Sly could hardly hide that look of doubt that existed upon his features as the Pirate folded out a well lacquered wooden table, declaring that this was where he planned to eat. Really? What if it rained? Then again maybe this guy just liked to sit out in the rain looking serious and smirking at things only he could see. He seemed the type. The pirate's assurance that it was weathertight below deck momentarily prompted Sy's gaze downward as if he could truly see beneath the wooden decking and into what he presumed was living quarters beneath. At least, he supposed, it explained what the man did in the rain and yet.....what a miserable bloody existence that sounded like. It couldn't be large below deck. Did he have to hunch all the time? Sly was, he supposed, willing to admit he hardly knew enough about boats to come up with a legitimate answer and here and now hardly seemed the time to query the other warlock on his lifestyle choices. Especially when he'd already made it clear he hardly intended to inform Sly of what existed below deck to begin with. That 'research', Sly was certain, was anything but. Sly moved to take that offered, cushioned seat across from the Pirate and his dog as the man insisted he liked to sit outside with a clear view of the sky and his surroundings. Sly's own gaze so momentarily glanced around that boat and towards the inky black sea that surrounded them- one eye daring to rise ever so slightly as a faint amusement tugged at his lips once more.

"Why? Are you worried about pirates?"

The guy had to know how much like a pirate he looked, didn't he? Surely that joke wasn't about to be lost on him. It was the other man's sudden, blatant insistence he knew Sly had been lying about the People of Delivery Association however that readily drew the young blond warlock's attention then. Alright. He'd been caught out. The Pirate had known all along and, in truth, Sly had suspected he had. The both of them seemingly content to play along at that game for as long as possible. There was, Sly was certain, no shame in losing to an Irish Pirate. His own shoulders lifted into a loose shrug, a grin finding his lips all the same as the warlock, at last, admitted to his own deceit- before gesturing toward the dog. Barney, he was certain, had believed him. That dog was as much a part of that conversation as both men in that moment and yet- how readily that gesture toward the dog held a certain measure of misdirection. One Sly had so fully intended. Slight of hand magic, after all, was any magician's staple. The kind Sly adored the most even if he had long since moved beyond such simple ruses. A good sleight of hand trick was nothing if not delightfully entertaining when done right- along with holding that distinct air of mystery.

The Pirate glanced toward his dog, Sly taking that opportunity to set up that trick before offering a soft snort in response to the other man's words. What made him think the dog was less gullible? Don't let appearances fool him? A small simper found Sly's lips once more as his head shook softly.

"Animals always know a liar when they see one. You can't fool them. As for not letting his appearance fool me, mate, I can tell you, nothing about his appearance is a lie at all. Like I said, I've never seen a dog like that before. He looks like he's about to breathe fire and I wouldn't be surprised if he did."

The dog was nothing if not....honest in the way it looked. Sly entirely capable of seeing past that glamour he long since suspected was in place for most people. He almost wished the dog's look did fool him. Maybe the glamour made it look less.....murdery. The query of just how he intended to take the other warlock's money however was one he saw fit to answer. That sleight of hand, after all, had been set up perfectly. The young warlock moved to lean forward thenn. Sly careful to move with a clear purpose lest he offend Barney in any fashion, before reaching up behind the pirates left ear only to pluck several dollar bills from behind it. Those bills were readily displayed to the other man then, offering him that chance to confirm their authenticity before his hands closed over them- those bills disappearing once more. The pirate, for all his obscure nature, seemed to enjoy that parlour trick as he insisted it 'wasn't bad at all'. The pair of men, in that curious evening, seemed to have found a near....mutual respect for one another. Sly's head nodded in a near mock bow of sorts before the other warlock insisted he must be a hit with the ladies- those very words prompting a soft snort from the blond.

"It depends on the ladies. Humans and Were's seem to like it, Vampires are rarely impressed by anything, I don't do shows for Hunters as a rule, I've never met a real Fae and other warlocks and witches? I'm not exactly their favourite person. Judgy bastards, our kind."

Sly scowled ever so slightly. The Pirate Warlock was one of the few of their own kind who'd ever admitted he enjoyed that magic and yet Sly had become used to that judgement from his own species. As if street magic was somehow...demeaning to their kind. It was the sudden rise of real magic within the air however that drew Sly's attention then, that faint sensation of an affinity at work prompted his gaze upward as the Pirate waves his hands, two cups abruptly appearing in mid-air, hovering for several moments, before coming to rest softly on the table. Sly's gaze widened ever so slightly in surprise, his eyes blinking momentarily.

"Okay, well thats-..."

Those words were abruptly halted as the other warlock twisted within his seat only to summon a bottle of whisky from down below. That bottle, much like the cups, seemed to float towards him, hovering a moment before being snatched from the air. The warlock proceeded to pour himself a glass- before filling up that cup in front of Sly. Maybe he liked the Pirate more than he thought.

".....cheating, that's real magic, I can feel it- but I'm not complaining. It's impressive. Telekinesis?"

Sly reached for that drink then, moving to lean back within his chair before lifting it to his lips. The young warlock seemingly content to make himself at home. At least until the Pirate moved to lift the lid on that meal- revealing the true, smouldering.....ashes of what had once been fish and chips. Damn it. Still, it was edible right? Right? Sly's blunt insistence that you could still physically eat that meal was met with a raised eye from the other warlock- before the Pirate insisted that meal was inedible by even his standards which were, apparently, not even remarkably high. That gesture for Sly to 'have at it' prompted the younger warlock to lean forward, that cup placed back on the table as Sly plucked a single, burned chip from the pile. The scowl upon the warlock's features was nothing short of clear as he bit down on that chip. The thoroughly scored food disintegrated to all but ash between his lips. The disdain on his face was nothing short of clear as he slowly, painfully, chewed that mouthful before swallowing.

"It's.....delightful."

If there was ever any credit to be given for going down with that ship then Sly surely deserved that award. It was however, perhaps some kind of....mercy from his newfound companion that the older warlock so finally sought to call him out on that game. The Pirate, this time, demanded to know the straight truth of exactly what had happened to his meal. Damn. He'd been playing so well until that point and yet- had Sly ever truly expected to win? That battle had been lost from the start and he'd known it. What chance had he ever truly had agianst a man like this? An Irish Pirate. Sly's shoulders lifted into an easy shrug as he reached for that drink once more- the boy determined to chase away the taste of that charcoal.

"I lit it on fire."

Well. It was the truth. Even if the Pirate hadn't exactly expected him to be quite so blunt with it. Sly's right hand rose, the warlock twirling it quickly through the night air only to have several flames erupt from his palm. That fireball was tossed casually upward and into the sky- only for those flames to rapidly take shape. A flaming, flying falcon taking form from that ball only to begin circling that ship. Its heated, orange body was a beacon agianst the night sky before, abruptly, that falcon dove downward as if intending to collide with the ship's deck itself. The bird had no sooner hit that deck then its form shifted again, a large, flaming wolf leaping from that rising smoke and flame only to shake itself off- casting embers as it did before its bright, curious gaze glanced from Sly, to the Pirate and toward Barney with clear intrigue.

"Don't worry, they don't burn unless I ask them too even though you can still feel their heat."

The wolf's tail rose high over its back, its posture stiff legged as it strode forward and toward Barney as if undecided on how to take that other canine. It's nose extended forward as if seeking to taste the scent of the hellhound. That fire wolf was curious and yet cautious- much as Sly himself was inclined to be.

sly.