RP:Anchors Away
Part of the Tales from the Row Arc
Synopsis: Finn and his crew set sail for Selen Island to track down their stolen goods. They encounter a storm in their first night at sea…and a visit for Rynvale’s vigilante spectre.
Characters: Finn, Terra, Kirikae, Hanan, Miya, Lita, Will, Grot, Alaine, Domastine.
Location: Open Water; between Cenril and Rynvale.
Finn emerged from the door that led to the captain’s quarters of the Hellcat’s lair, the red capped, ebon curled head of said captain not far behind as the pair seemed immersed in quiet conversation. The runner paused, shifting the pack still weighting one shoulder onto the other. “Reckon they should start showing up anytime now. Told em midday. Did the supplies come in on time?” It was a low murmur, lost to most on deck, save the blonde haired vampire who trailed slightly behind the pair in making her exit from the comfortable captain’s hold. A waggle of fingers their way was the only indication given of her willingness to allow the conversation to continue in private. Terra had bigger fish to fry. Like finding out if the private quarters that had been promised for herself and Red would live up to its name. Her movement across the decks to the entryway that led below, would be followed with lazy appreciation by a pair of warm, whisky toned eyes. Hanan’s reply was enough to induce a nod of satisfaction and an idle, “I’ll give the word when they’re all aboard. Be ready to haul anchor.”
Kirikae dropped his hands into his pockets, shoulders lifted against the biting chill that permeated his duster. Along the harbor, the crowds were not so keen to separate from the path of one scowling sailor, and thus, Kae wove deftly between naval officers and working men alike. It was a scene he preferred: the bustle of activity, mixings scents of fish, merchants' stock and salt.. and the cold air rolling off the water that made breath sting in his chest. He had not been the first to arrive, nor had he expected to be, and it was certainly no surprise when a flash or bright red caught his eyes. Shale, he was familiar with, if only having recognized her by the fire red of her hair. Pinching his bandana between thumb and forefinger, the captain made careful work of readjusting the fabric upon his head. Odd, it was, being passenger rather than captain. His lips pinched around a dissatisfied grunt that threatened to escape when sky-blue eyes caught sight of the ebon haired Halfling bard filing after the female. Now how much more would he have preferred being the captain with that fellow aboard? Thoughts trailed back to his ship, and the blonde felt the corner of his mouth curve into a wicked half-grin; another reason among many to attempt poking an arrow hole or three into the masked spectre. Kae lowered his hand again, shouldering his way past one particularly sweaty fisherman as he continued toward the battered vessel they would be taking. Gaze passed over the ship in narrowed scrutiny before he made his way toward the gangplank. Worse to be landlocked than a passenger of another captain's ship, he supposed.
Alaine made her way through the crowd of the familiar harbor, the roar of various sounds acting as a comfort -- people chatting, boots clonking 'pon the wooden dock, vendors screaming out the deals on a fresh catch, sailors yelling orders to each other; ah… home. Fletcher quickly followed in his mate's footsteps, though he kept to himself. The conversation between the two elves had been stressed, considering his return home just a few hours prior after being away for a week. His explanation seemed accepted by the artificer, though the half-hearted hold their hands currently shared as two forms wove through the crowd suggested otherwise. Perhaps they could discuss it on the ship; it would be a long journey. At last, they reached Hanan's ship, Fox quickly leading them aboard and making a quick sweep of the ship with sterling hues before turning to Ralien and beginning a hushed conversation for their ears alone.
Finn grinned, the sight of Kirikae’s approach of the gangplank enough to provoke movement toward the smooth curved railing of the top deck. “Well hell..” he drawled down to the boarding captain, “ If it isn’t the good captain..didn’t half reckon on you makin’ it mate. Surprised you could be arsed to leave the Chaser while she’s got a hole in her gut. Swear the dam ship is your lover.” Leaning forward, elbows resting on the rail, burnished head dipped in greeting to the newly arrived crew members, an easy “Cat’s got you quartered below..” drawled their way. Will’s arrival warranted an extra comment, the runner having just left him within the hour. “Guess you made it kid..Rekon that..waitress wasn’t long about her goodbyes.” The runner’s tone and expression were carefully wiped of emotion, though his eyes flickered beyond the male, further along the docks searching for something..someone. There. A flash of ivory topped with a tumble of raven locks that tumbled to her shoulders was weaving her way along the docks toward the ship. Wherever she walked, there seemed a slight hitch, a pause to the flow of life as the sea witch passed, often because there had been a literal halting of action on the part of those whom she passed. The runner’s lips curved in dry appreciation. Lita. A touch on his shoulder would draw his attention away from the scene, and head would turn to meet the gaze of the hawk. Gideon stood with the expression of one feeling oddly out of his element in the company of the runner and his affiliates, that the Blackhawk pendant that still hung from a chain at his throat would well explain the cause. The expression in Finn’s eyes cooled slightly. Despite the agreement forged between himself and the lad, he was still not inclined to trust fully-it was the reason he’d determined that keeping the youth right under his nose for the foreseeable future was in his best interests. And so, Gideon was aboard. “You’ll be workin’ ships crew with Hanan’s lot..” he said coolly. “Report to the captain when you’re bunked.” Labor. The mage would begin at the bottom and earn his way into the runner’s circle of trust-if he’d manage to earn it at all. A nod would be his reply before the youth moved away and the smuggler returned attention to the boarding passengers. By his count..they were almost ready to go.
Kirikae was taking count of those boarding and already boarded with casual indifference. A snort, however, was directed the runner's way, crooked grin slashing quickly across the tree-born's face. "Better 'n most women Ah've met." He cocked his head just slightly, taking a place alongside the ship's railing. Folding his arms over the worn wood, the captain turned his gaze to the harbor below, eyes resting briefly upon the artificer and the man along with her. Briefly, because Kae very quickly saw the blonde mop of hair belonging to a certain guttersnipe. Again, he felt the half smirk carving his lips, as Sulos made his own way up the gangplank. He gave Su no more mind than a faint tilt of his head in the boy's direction as he crossed the deck. Eyes drifted back to the hum of movement that came with a ship preparing to haul anchor, glittering with reserved pleasure. That pleasure did not fade when he noticed a rather fine pair of breasts leaning over the railing a few paces away. Miya. That had been the name of the barmaid, though it took him a moment to place a name to the face.. Mostly because he had not looked there first, but those were small details. Idly did his gaze drop lower, and with a faint huff, the captain's attention returned to the choppy waters rolling against the ship's hull.
Alaine only now paid heed to the various other members aboard, catching several familiar faces along the way. Terra and Captain Hanan were both given a nod together, Gideon the next fellow to be caught by sterling gaze that suddenly turned cold and hardened. Wasn't that the lad who had suffered a hard strike to the chest by her own arrow? A questioning glance was given to the auburn locks just now noticed, demanding answers, though gaze quickly softened; it was difficult for her to be all angry and stern with The Runner, even from a distance. Red was given a warm smile over Ralien's shoulder, silver pools silently scanning once more before abruptly halting at the face of the captain not too far from The Runner's side. Brows furrowed, though not with anger, a soft crease visible in her forehead before Fletcher quickly stole her attention with a spoken sentence. The artificer responded accordingly, and his arms did wrap around her, but again silver gaze found itself fixed 'pon the red bandana.
In the end, the spectre had chosen to simply await Alaine to make the first move, hoping she would lead him straight to wherever she was taking Fletcher. It was not to difficult to follow, after all he no longer wore his mask. Further more, as Domastine, he was a well known face on the harbor, being captain of his own vessel. In a tatter cape and pristine clothing, the dark skinned foreigner easily stepped through the crowds. At times he paused to converse with beggars and offer his donations, biding time for now a pair of elven lovers to make their way towards the harbor, rather than skulk around in plain view of the first ship he had vandalized as his alter ego. And there was Kirikae, captain of the second ship he attacked. Walking past to make his way to his own ship, he conducted his men through their own routine while keeping Hanan's vessel in peripheral vision. Knowing Kirikae to be as prideful a captain as he was, the foreigner concluded that this was not just some random trip across the sea. He would have to review the map to find an out of the way location that would have forced Kirikae to accept being a passenger on another ship. Time would tell where this ship would lead him.
Finn snorted lightly in Kirkae’s direction at the Halfling’s comment. “Not nearly so good at warmin’ a bed though..” he remarked idly in response. A two fingered salute was tipped Sulos’s way as the lad made his way up the gangplank. That was it, the last of his lot. The runner was pushing off the railing when he caught that questioning and slightly accusatory stare from the artificer. An arced brow and a speaking look were awarded her in return. If Gideon was here..she could trust that there’d be a reason for it. Still, it only made sense that the entire crew be debriefed. Life would be entirely less complicated for the lad that way. Purposeful strides carried him across the worn deck toward the captain’s quarters, where fisted palms hammered twice in prearranged signal to indicate that all were aboard before he instantly spun away. Striding to the rail again, gold flecked gaze almost glimmered in anticipation as thoughts turned toward the absent Razor. “ Ohh to the races then mate..” he murmured to the man under his breath. For he did not doubt, after what Hanan had revealed the previous night..that the Razor was likely to be also on the move. It would be a matter of who could get to the stash first. And he had no intention of losing. The sound of activity reached fever pitch, and over it all the Hellcat’s voice barking orders..and then, they were moving..smoothly, efficiently easing out of berth as sails were unfurled and battened to catch the winter’s wind. The runner exhaled. It had begun.
LATER THAT NIGHT..
Hanan was queen of the damn ship and acted like it, perched a moment high up at the top of the rigging in the crow's nest, gloved hand caught securely around the rope, peering off in the direction of Selen Island as if willing them there with her eyes. She enjoyed the catbird seat, above all that nasty business on land. This was home. The sailor pulled her red hat a little further down over her ears, tugged the collar of her old peacoat closer against the wind, and looked down. There was her helmsman, keeping her steady; there was her first mate, watching the helmsman. All was right.
Alaine remained in position at the wooden railing, gazing off into the ocean, seemingly-entranced by the moon's shine on the water. The elf kept to herself, humming a gentle tune that was a perfect mix of longing and sorrow whilst still keeping a hidden joy amidst the subtle shifts in notes.
Domastine :Lessons had been learned since his rather dangerous visit aboard the Starchaser. The most important being that his original outfit was not quite well suited for aquatic movement if the need arose to jump overboard or otherwise escape a traveling ship. That was more or less corrected. Heavy alterations were made to a traditional swimming costume from Cenril and now a second suit had been produced, sleek and streamlined for rapid swimming if necessary while still providing the same freedom of movement as well as protection via similar runic designs as the original. Like an inconspicuous ripple in the water, the enchanted fabric of his cloak obscured his steady interception of the sailing ship that was devoid of a figurehead. Even waterlogged, mage crafted boots still worked just as well in the ocean as they did on land.
Finn emerged from the hatch entrance to the lower decks the picture concentration as he engaged in quiet conversation with one of the crew hands. It seemed however, that the discussion was not one to merit being overly concerned as the rugged feature came to life with something akin to a wicked grin, a nod and the transfer of coin indicating that some service or favor might just have been purchased. Stepping out into the briskness of the open night air, stars the only pin pricks of light beside the radiance of pale moons, the runner crossed the decks toward the rail where the Fox stood, a companiable silence afforded until some sixth sense turned whisky gaze skyward, to where the captain perched. A salute offered, husky drawl floated up to the nest. “ Thought cats were afraid of heights captain..” he teased. “All clear?..” They were tacking now, into waters known to be enduring the worse of the piracy scourge.
Hanan shook her head, up there in the wind. "Stop callin' me Cat, Squirrel. And you know ruttin' nothing about cats. They love high places. They perch." This was not helping her case. With a small growl she swung herself out of the crow's nest, nimble feet finding the ropes as she climbed her way down. It wouldn't be until she hit the wooden deck and became walking toward Red and the Fox that the pronounced limp in her right leg would become obvious. "And I see nothin' but waves. We're safe for now." She turned her head, called back toward the helmsman, "Keep 'er steady! I see your arms wobblin'." Domastine readied himself for the most dangerous part, climbing aboard. As the comparatively massive hull beared down near him, he awkwardly readying his bullwhip. With deft precision, or perhaps just sheer blind luck, the fork tongued tip caught tightly around a railing peg near the secured rowboats. His mouth clamped tightly to endure the abrupt pain that shot up his arm as he was instantly pulled along the course of the ship. Straining to keep hold, the spectre began to pull himself up the whip hand over hand towards the main deck.
Alaine rose lithe fingers from their gentle-rhythmic tapping, letting the song end on one hopeful note that would resonate out to the sea, fading away as head fell to the soft cradle of her palms; why was this night turning sour? Communication between herself and Fletcher had been strained, a compromise not yet reached in their recent feud. Another presence was soon sensed beside her, sterling hues peeking through a cage of slender fingers to The Runner, furrowing fine brows slightly to the volume of his sudden call up to the kitty cat. Just as Fox was about to release a soft sigh, a nudge was felt against her ribs, turning to face the source -- Terra? The blonde, unlike her red-haired lover currently occupying the opposing side of the artificer, was greeted with a soft smile, form straightening slightly as she waited for the woman to speak.
Terra didn't really have too much to say to Alaine. In fact, her approach was only made because there was something about the sight of the slumped form of the Fox that had plucked a nerve. Seeing this female of all onboard look so down was a little alarming. Since the empath isn't too fond of expressing emotion she'd merely lean in and give another little nudge, a smile that accompanied it to show it was some sort of game. Or maybe it was a question about the well-being of the chipper girl who seemed to have lost some of that spark. She did look towards Hanan after a moment, took in the choice of coat and frowned. Not because it was unappealing... but it was certainly different from the last she had seen of the Captain.
Alaine quirked a brow to the blonde's second nudge, grinning slightly in response. The elf took it as the first option; she liked games. Slender form was risen in a sudden hop, hip colliding with Terra's own somewhat-delicately, but still enough to present a challenge, unless the woman would back down and admit defeat…?
Hanan ::Did Terra notice it was cold? Ruttin' cold as a witch's tit, and that witch wasn't even a cute one. Still, there's something more subdued about the good captain, something reducing the usual grin in her lips to a flat line, making her eyes brood as she gave Terra a nod in response. Not that she's bein' all whiny about it, no ma'am. "What's your damn plan, Red? Do we just drop harbor and start hackin' at the brush with machetes?" No, she'd be growly about it. Far more mature.
Miya 's right hand was running through her tangled hair as she emerged from somewhere within the ship. Most likely she'd been drinking from the private stock she'd drug aboard when she'd been told of their 'mission', or what she had been told of it, anyway. She was still slightly off balance, having just returned to the land she called home, only to turn around and get back on another ship and be shuffled off to who knows where. Not that she minded. The company- least what she knew of them, was good anyway. Honey colored eyes dance from person to person as she finishes with her hair and wraps her arms around the lithe form she sported, her shirt hardly enough to keep the shivers from the air's chill at bay. She'd opted to stay quiet for the time being, waiting to catch up on what all was going on while she'd been down below before opening her mouth.
Domastine could hear the voices elsewhere on the main deck as he silently crawled over the railing and made his way beneath the stored overturned rowboat. The soft misting of an evening seabreeze allowed his wet bootprints to mingle and fade against damp floorboards. There was Finn himself, as well as two others he recognized. Machetes? he thought to himself as he heard the captain called to the red head. That would mean heavy vegetation. A jungle island like Selen.
Finn was aware of the arrival of the sparrow on the Fox’s other side, just as he was aware that the evident return of the Fennec had not seemed to do much to take that lost look out of the female’s eyes. It was all entirely too emotional a subject to think on, and so he wouldn’t, choosing instead to focus on the Hellcat as she shimmied down the masts. A dry grin broke his features as he leveled a baleful stare on the diminutive cap’n. “Reckon’ if I knew what the hell we were doin’ when we got there, I wouldn’t need nearly so many bodies aye. He had to leave a trail..don’t much figure a man can off load a ship full of supplies without leaving some indication he’s around. Can’t have gone too far inland either..not if he was planning to ship it out again like you were sayin’.” His brow furrowed in pensive thought. “I figure a sweep of the beachfront and near shore will give up somethin’.. Hackin’ might not be so bad an idea. We load up the tools?”
Terra is sympathetic enough not to lecture Hanan on choices in fashion even in chilly weather. She's almost certain that it's the last thing that the pirate wanted to hear. See, she can be a normal member of society. Still, she had plans of an interrogation in the future since Alaine wouldn't allow it now with the next round of their little game. In response she merely leaned on the shorter female, a dead weight that lasted for a few seconds before she'd risk them both collapsing. Game on.
Finn glanced Miya's way, offering a dip of burnished head in greeting. They had not yet had the opportunity to have the potentially awkward reuinion that was pending. There was much his one time lover needed to be..updated on. "Miya.." it was a quiet greeting.
Miya wasn't looking forward to that... reunion. But it was for different reasons other than why Finn would think it weird. She was, however, going to smack a child for not handing over the letter she'd prepared when she left on her venture- things might have been a tad easier on her return if she'd not had to rush off and leave a boy in charge of her life. The sound of her name slipping from familiar lips causes the woman to turn her gaze in the final direction, "Red." She whispered, offering a soft dip of her head in return before she'd look back around the deck; booted feet starting her forward then to take a look over the edge of the ship while she listens still to those around her.
Hanan ::shrugged. "Got a few machetes. Cutlasses work just as well... boarding axes work in a pinch." She smelled... strangers. Nostrils flared. It set her a bit on edge. But her whole damn ship was full of strangers now, wasn't it? Red's folks down in berthing, a couple extra hands she hired, this person--she peered at Miya, the damn fool, didn't she know it was ruttin' cold on a ship at sea? It wasn't going to be jungle all the way--among others. Damn it all. Can't be helped. Was that a yowl from the deck below? She heard it... a damned yowl. Ruttin' hell. "HEY." A sudden shout as she stomped over to the grate, peering down. "Leave the damn ratter be, will ya?" Red's men. Ruttin' hell. She ought to stop giving them coal for that little oven. At least the yowling stopped. What the hell were Terra and Alaine doing? Scowl.
Alaine rose both brows in surprise; the blonde had a playful side? This was new, and indeed a welcomed enlightenment. In response to the gentle lean to her shoulder, the elf quickly shifted her form and allowed leather-bound shoulder to make contact with that of the bird, though majority of her weight (which honestly wasn't that threatening) was rested 'pon the blonde's frame for a lengthy period.
Domastine found it quite odd that while most of the persons on deck were usually quite talkative in a public setting amongst themselves, such as the Barrel, they were almost deadly silent here. He supposed it could not be helped as not even the ringleader had a clear idea of what to expect when reaching the island. His body immediately tensed at the booming shout from the captain as he feared discovery. When it turned out to be nothing more than the woman's complaints towards the treatment of a cat, he focused his listening once more to the others in a vain attempt to overheard something useful.
Domastine might not hear anything particularly useful..not for the immediate future moments, for the chill gust of wind that tugged auburn strands free of their bindings on the runner’s head, carried with it the scent to weather that any seasoned captain would recognize. Sails flapped briskly in the wind, creating a peculiar sound trak for the quiet assembly below, and those paying attention would note that the vessle’s smooth glide along the surface had become more of a restless, dipping dance. Finn was not sailor, but whisky gaze lifted of an instinct toward the horizon where those pin pricks of light had been previously visible. The twin moons were hidden from sight, and clouds sat low on the horizon. A quick glance was offered the captain, seeking affirmation of his suspicions.
Terra had been granted stability by an elbow placed against the railing and so Alaine wouldn't find a complaint or mention of discomfort coming from the empath in that moment. Instead she'd slip an arm behind the girl and find a dark strand of the Fox's hair, gave it a quick tug before settling back against the side of the vessel with a quiet sigh. On it she'd breathe out a short question that's she's close enough to Alaine to merely whisper.
Miya wasn't use to being at sea- her job was a waitress to all those on the outside, and a picker to those on the in. She had no place out on open waters, though an extra set of hands and eyes couldn't hurt on this mission, so it seemed. The shout from the captain caused the elf to jump, her almond shaped eyes turning to face the angered woman for but a moment before she'd turn back towards the waters below.
Alaine twitched keen ears as the bird's voice pricked, though not before the tug to choppy locks was felt. Seemingly-retreating from their little war, the elf took a step back from the blonde with a smile, nodding in response. "With time, bird." A moment of silence passed between the pair, sterling gaze curiously assessing the woman before the Fox suddenly pounced her with slender arms finding rest around her curly-blonde locks. After a few undoubtedly-uncomfortable moments of the elf's warm embrace, arms snugged the bird one last time before smile grew and artificer pulled from the embrace with a wink. Seemed not all the spark had dissipated.
Hanan was no fool; she was already acting on the sudden pick-up of the waves, the clouds in the sky. Walking to the grate had brought her closer to the helm and her first mate. "Hey, Harry." The bearded, portly and apropriately hairy first mate in the striped shirt who'd been so diligently watching their new helmsman looked up as she approached, frankly towering over his short captain. "We're gettin' that mainsail down. You all hear me?" She turned, voice booming--and sending the several crew members who'd been loitering on the deck oggling Miya, Terra and Alaine scrambling up the rigging. "Storm's coming! Get that mainsail down! We'll have to run through it!" Back down the deck again, limping speedily the Barrel crew's way. "When it starts raining, get down below."
Terra really isn't too keen on physical affection especially with Fox because the little lady had this annoying habit of hugging. See, Terra stuck with nudging and shoves. That was her roundabout way of saying 'yes, I'm fond of you as well' and Alaine here couldn't just accept that. No, there was almost always the threat of this very same embrace she found herself in now. A helpless, wide-eyed look was cast towards Finn just in time to realize that the others aboard were starting to engage in preparation for what appeared to be the start of a nasty storm. Could she not just enjoy sailing? Was she the bad omen that heralded the approach of bad weather? So Alaine recieved a few awkward pats of reassurance and a smile in return, even if Terra was somewhat distracted (and a little amused) by Hanan's hobbling.
Miya blinked, "A storm?" Could things get any worse? She'd never voice her dislike of being on the ship, but the sudden frown splayed across her visage could be clearly seen for a few seconds before she leaned off the side railing and headed back to the one face familiar to her; Finn. She wouldn't get too close to him though, her course changing last minute to direct her to his side a few feet away, her form ready to move under should the sky release it's rain. She took the time now that she was closer to look upon the new faces, eyes studying the sailors; be they actual or just for the time- though she'd keep the staring down to a minimum, her gaze resting for a moment and then turning back to the sky, ready to speed under the cover of the ship's belly.
Alaine grumbled to the words being uttered about the boat along with Hannan's barked orders. A storm? Oh no, no no. Foxes don't much care for roaring waves and blistering winds. She would rather find refuge and face the disappointed frown of Ralien than endure the threatening harsh weather. Booted-strides quickly carried her to the hatched-door, slipping through the small opening and down below. Despite their feuding, The Fox quickly found solace in the arms of The Fennec, to which he smiled and gladly accepted the woman into his warm hold. Storms served some purpose in his mind.
Finn wasn’t deaf. Between the barked command of the captain, and the ever increasing wind, it became more than evident that trouble was ahead. A quick glance was offered in Terra’s direction, instinct demanding that he assure himself that the sparrow was poised for flight to safety should the need arise, and then he was about to move, when Miya appeared at his side. He’d not failed to note her discomfort on the waves, and some part of him was feeling .. remorse for having been so indiscriminate with his summons of individuals from all facets of his operation. She’d likelier be happier serving up drinks at the tables right now. “Get below..” he offered to her quietly, a nudge applied to the small of her back. “Have a lookabout the galley, see if we can’t whip up something to warm our blood. Freezing up here..” And without pausing for a reply a quick shout to the captain. “The supplies Cat..need to tie down the load on deck!..” a quick step or two towards the sparrow and a quietly urgent. “You too darlin’..I’ll be right behind you..” If the runner had his way, all of the females would be bundled out of harms way before the brunt of trouble arrived.
Grot || Started off with clouds. Always with the fecking clouds. Can't really say whats in a cloud. Moisture, really. But at times you could say something more devious could lurk. Can lurk. Does. This was one of those. Late evening, light rain. An hour had gone by. An /hour/ and blue-white streaks of lightning met with ocean, slid across sky like a snake. A deafening noise. Could feel it in yer gut, that pulse. Sif in a distant life, in another realm, another copy of you had been struck by one of those sinewy, powerful torrents of electricity. T'was not the only thing to assail a ship at sea, nay - not with swells that cleared the upper deck, threatened to sweep crew overboard. Blistering, bitter rain - the hatred of the sea wrought down, a vengance not unknown by many experienced captain. Couldn't see a god damn thing out there. Couldn't hear your own god damn thoughts - a swell came over the front of the ship, a swash of sea-foam meeting any above deck. God damn, Hell Hath No Fury Like A Pissed Off Ocean
Miya 's response was quick-- a nod offered without words towards the request of the boss as she started in out of the soon to be liquid hell. She wouldn't, however, make it completely inside without that damned sea foam being blown over the side of the rails and a portion of it splashing her in the face. A gruff growl is released from the throat of the elf as she finishes her decent into the ship's galley and, as asked, she looks around for something to warm their souls.
Hanan ::All the females, huh? Hanan stared up at her now bare main mast with some satisfaction, hands on her hips, she was the perfect model of a modern bitchy admiral. Her boys were fast. "I know that, Red. Do I look like a ruttin' fool?" No, she didn't. She was in her element. The boys on the rigging were set about to reinforciing--of course they were secured already, did she look like she wanted that mess rolling around?--Red's precious supplies. Limp or no, her feet were steady on that pitching deck as she hobbled her way up toward the helmsman at the stern, up the steps to the quarterdeck, voice booming again as she paced. "Everyone who's not a sailor, down below!" She didn't want her own men in this wet mess, let alone Red's morons--as it was her own smattering of crewmembers on watch were sticking to that quarterdeck once they finished the tying down, gripping ropes for support. They were sailing bare except for the jib, that'd keep them moving. She planted a hand on the kid's shoulder. "Keep 'er steady. We don't need speed, we just need to keep upright."
Alaine had taken notice to the stranger's discomfort aboard the ship, smiling and planting a timid kiss to Ralien's lips before unwinding slender form from his hold and catching the fellow-elf in her path, that elf being Miya of course. The Fox had heard The Runner's suggestion and the woman's disgruntled growl. "Need help?" Friendly artificer gently placed a hand on the woman's back betwixt shoulder blades as they continued their strides; the artificer didn't know much about concocting drinks, but she sure as 'ell enjoyed 'em.
Terra : This rain was unlike any other. It came hard and swift, cold and relentless and it certainly wasn't the first storm she had been witness while a passenger on a vessel. A flash of lightning streaked across the sky and she's close to forgetting which ship she's on - The Eternity? Hanan's? It's entirely eerie how they all start to feel the same. Finn's warning is heard and she'd then notice that everyone else seemed to have abandoned them so she'd nod along, grabbing Finn's hand for a brief moment before he's released and she'd follow the way of the rest.
Miya 's head jerked back at the touch from the artificer; wet face falling from an aggravated scowl to a friendly smile as she dipped her head before replying, "Aye, that'd be mighty fine." It wasn't the order that had caused such a sound from the female, but the salty splash to her face. She didn't mind making drinks, was part of what she did at the club anyway, she enjoyed it; but hell, having another help her, one she didn't know, was a decent way to actually meet the strangers she found herself surrounded by. "Name's Miya." The caretaker would offer her name before further entering the galley, her goal to find a stash of rum and drink herself silly while serving others as well.
Terra had stayed up there too long. Her hair is flat, stuck to her face and she'd work on pulling that up and off while watching the pair socialize. She's staying out of this one.
Alaine met the smile from the stranger, glistening teeth revealed in a cheery grin as the elf made way for the visible cabinets, soon rummaging through the contents -- hopefully Captain Hanan didn't have anything best kept hidden. "They call me Fox," the artificer remarked, furrowing fine brows and gingerly shutting the current cabinet with a heavy thud; seemed liquor wasn't occupying its confines, much to the elf's disapproval. Expression softened to the grin it once was, silver gaze assessing the elf with an amused glint. "You don't seem to really fit in here, Miya. Not to fond of sailing?"
Up on deck, the runner had barely a moment to spare Hanan a glare, and Terra a squeeze of fingers before he was off himself, heading for one of those piles of supplies an lowering himself into a crouch to wrap his palms around bindings and drag into a more secure hold. “Like hell..” Like hell he was going below with his hard earned profit at risk up on deck. “The hell is Kae?..” he called out over the gust of increasing wind. Auburn hair was a slick shell against his head, coat damp and clinging to his form. He wasn’t a sailor..but that bastard Halfling was one of the best he knew.
Grot || Schpoof - more spray, another wave. Weren't coming in like regular swells either, random directions. Wasn't a current, no travel. Just a rampaging sea on the rag. Could say it had a hue, to a degree. The water. Red water. Rare. Always spelled bad news. Algae was taking oxygen out of the water. Messed it up. Lightning - close to the ship, and over on Selen Island, Grot Kingsley sat on the god damn beach with a bottle of rum, no shirt, drunker than hell yelling at the ocean. Make that half a god damn bottle of rum. "Yeh lil fecker yeh gots tah'feckin rain an'tah lightnin' and thinkin yer all big and tough tah - oh shyyyyteeee!" Kingsley leapt away from a tree fifteen feet away, which was now burning. Lightning struck it. Fecking hell. Raining too hard though. Was getting worse too, moving on island - Finn's Row were in the worst of it. Grot Kingsley was just drunker than all hell and trying to fight a storm.
Miya shrugged her bare shoulders, her shirt; damp as it was, snuggled flatly against her skin and made her movements uncomfortable-- she felt like people were staring. Usually such a thing wouldn't bother her, she did like attention, but now, she was out of her element, and out of here in the middle of nowhere with people she didn't know. Wonderful. "I don't." Her words were soft, her tone flat. "I'm not, nor have I ever been a sea gal. From the beaches it's one thing, but here... S'not somthin I can get use to in this short amount of time." In her eyes, this was a punishment for being gone so long, for vanishing without word, when really that part wasn't her fault. Damn her luck.
Hanan felt a solid hand on her own shoulder; she looked up. The first mate, damn him, was giving her a look from up there, the tall bastard. "Get yourself down there, Cap'n. They're land folk, they'll want someone they know telling them all this pitching and rolling's normal, aye?" Hanan huffed, but... nodded, slow. It was a good idea. "Fine, take the reigns awhile. Start yellin' if you need me. I'll be back up soon." She squinted up at the lightning as she limped back across the leaping deck, chin down against the damn rain, eyes blinking as she saw lighting reflected in red wave water. Red! No, never a good sign. Made the rutting ocean look all haunted. She caught Red by the arm, pulled hard. "It's secure, Red. Get down below. I'm goin' down too for a moment." Another tug. "My ship, my orders. Come on before you fall off. You'll make a better leader than a buoy."
Terra is cold and wet and would rather watch the opposite end of the hall for signs of someone coming down the hatch the way they had. Honestly she can't decide what made her more uncomfortable, Finn being up there or Hanan. If either were swept away to the ocean it would make this already uncomfortable voyage that much more unbearable. When no one appeared she'd glance again towards Alaine and then Fletcher and finally Miya. It's a rare occasion when she has no words nor want to voice them.
Kirikae might have already found the stash of rum and drink that Miya sought, given the tell-tale bottle he held in one hand. Or, more likely, it had been his own, carried on in the worn leather kitbag he'd brought. Wherever he had found it, the captain certainly did not have the chance to enjoy the drink before the first hints of storm began to rock the boat. He'd find the women on his way out, likely, offering none a greeting as he 'rounded them. A well timed and almost apparently rehearsed appearance from the below deck ushered the appearance of the blonde Halfling. Maybe he had not heard the Runner over the wind, but a quick glance over the happenings on deck and Kae was making a haphazard march toward the auburn haired rogue. "No' ther' superstitious type, mate," He lifted a hand against the wind and rainfall raging about, moving his gaze between Hanan, the supplies, and the red of the water. "But Ah'd say some God 'ad it in fer us." Right, well. It wasn't his ship. Captain's orders might just dictate that he'd got his duster drenched again for no reason if he was meant to go back to the galley. 'Least he'd enjoy his drink.
Grot || And then it happened. Maybe this wasn't the worst of it yet. The ship dipped down into a deep trough, head-strong into an oncoming wave. Didn't break it, lightning streaked - was really the only sign of the enormity of pummeling wave. You could compare the motion, the inertia, to a six-team carriage tumbling off a cliff. The impact of that wave was more or less, about the time wooden vessel would smack against a rocky bottom. The entirety of one's body would lurch forward at a wave this side, rigging, anything unsecured, men and cargo alike would be pushed, sucked back toward the rear of the boat. Anything below would be sent flying, no no - no - this was just begining. A hell of a storm was still lurking - but the ship did break through, did begin the quick up-slope only to be followed by another trough, howling rain and wind.
Alaine furrowed fine brows to the elf's obvious discomfort. Not all were meant for the sea -- look at Ralien. His lean form was pacing about bunks, often reaching out to grab hold of a post or crate in support and to avoid losing balance as a result of the ship's violent rocking. The Fennec didn't look amused, though gaze did soften when it beheld the sterling hues currently locked on his own; their feud was nearing its end. Fox turned attention back to the matter at hand, still rummaging through the cupboards and rapidly opening and closing their doors until, "A ha!" the artificer rose from her kneeling-stance with a triumphant grin, four bottles of liquor held in capable digits; she had found the stash. "Let's make some drinks, aye?" Just then, the ship jerked, lurching the elf's body forward. A bottle had been dropped as a result, shattering over the wooden floorboards as the fox struggled to keep her balance, quickly looking up to the hatch door with distaste. "Bloody storm!"
Miya 's eyes lingered on Kirikae as he made his way past the small group and, once he was out of sight, the elf turned back towards Fox and opened her mouth to speak. That was a far as she got however, the sudden smack of the wave outside sent the woman fumbling forward, her face coming within inches from hitting the corner of the table before her on the way down. Be it luck, or simply the slide of the furniture as the ship rocked, she barely missed the collision betwixt nose and wood. Arms are pushed out before her to keep her head from running into the floorboards as she made her final slide in the downward- or backwards- direction before the ship started up again. Unlike most of the time she'd been aboard, she wasn't silent now, instead, she'd curse and grunt anytime something; chair, table leg or person; ran into her during the tumble they all suddenly experienced.
Finn glanced up at the approach of the Halfling captain, the flash of teeth his way the only indicator that the redhead was almost enjoying the battle with nature than was unfolding. It was his own secure hold on the ropes that bound the supplies that would preserve his body from hurtling along the deck. “God dammit!,..Kae!” The bark of concerned was leveled at the spot where the captain had last been seen. Hanging on, much like a man a bucking bull, Red would offer an out flung arm toward the male, if he had not found some means to secure himself. They were in for one hellova ride.
Hanan ::Likewise, it was Hanan's secure grip on Red's arm that kept her from being swept back toward the stern. Gods damn this weather! She tugged again, managed to get close enough to the supplies to grab on and regain her footing, cursing the whole way. "You ruttin' idiot..." She'd be below and marginally dryer if Red were less stubborn. Now she was stuck in the middle of all this. She yelled through the storm, back toward her quarterdeck, her guys. "Harry! Lock the rudder and get your ass below! Get everyone below!" She spit a bit of seawater out of her mouth. Damn Red! "We'll have to ride it out 'till these waves go down! Under!"
Kirikae , despite years of experience aboard ships and more than one storm weathered, was not immune to the boat's lurching. Had it not been for the outstretched arm, Kae might very well have found himself thrown into the railing or.. well, other unpleasant places. Instead, recovering from his loss of balance, the captain struggled briefly and finally got a grip on the ropes securing the supplies. It was a sudden, sharp laughter that broke from the captain's throat, a devil may care grin cutting across his features as he glanced up to another bolt of lightning. " God feckin' damn it, eh?" He managed, looking back toward the Hannan, then to Red. "Under." Under the deck was much better than over the rails. Walking back was sure to be fun.
Alaine gathered up what she could of the provisions stashed about below deck, though she didn't set out all of it. A few bits of food were set 'pon the table, offered to any of those who cared for a bite as the elf went pattering off to a nearby counter to mix the drinks -- some mix of brandy and other things. The curious concoction was an odd color, though actually intriguing in a way: a deep russet brown, honeyed swirls dancing around the fetched mugs. A number of drinks were made, leather duster swaying about slender frame as the boat still rocked and the elf struggled to keep all the mugs in one place; damn storm.
“Under..” It was a soft grunt of agreement, snatched by the wind of the storm even as the vessel pitched on the waves once more. A quick searching glance was darted around the dark, slick deck. There was no way he’d make it in one series of action. A break at the halfway point would be needed to secure himself again before the final thrust. There. The mainmast had rigging. It would do. That devil may care grin surfaced in return of Kae’s. “If the Lady’s favor doesn’t last..Been nice knowin’ you mate..” The auburn head turned Hanan’s way. “Sure as hell hope you’ve got the good shit down there Cat..” And then, timed with the rise of a swell beneath the prow he was off on a crouched run, uphill it felt like, toward the center of the ship. A secure hold was snared just as she plunged into new trough, and after a moments read.. the repeat of the action would find him staggering for the entry to the berthing deck. “S’blood” he cursed, as he all but tumbled into level below. Soaked, but not swept overboard.
Lita had been content to stay wrapped in a blanket the entire trip, cursing the runner for dragging her along. She was more than missing firm ground 'neath her feet right about now. At least she'd changed- her usual shift replaced with pants and loose shirt. Her hair was pinned up, and she stood in a little doorway, watching the Fox bustle about with food and drink. Seemed she always tried to ease everyone's worry by forcing them to ingest large amounts of... well, whatever might be lying about. The scene made her smile slightly. She was purposefully avoiding the scenes above deck.
Hanan ::Maybe Red couldn't make it all in one go. This wasn't his ship. She'd wait for the front of her ship to lift, up, up, up---then push herself back toward the quarterdeck, grabbing the railing of the steps rather than making it completely. "Harry!" Harry wasn't there--or he was in the process of leaving, anyhow, his bearded head disappearing down the hatch she'd had built near the helm. Great. He likely hadn't even heard her in this mess. But the rudder looked locked... she worked her way against the pitching of the ship a couple feet sideways, found the door of her personal quarters, right beneath the quarterdeck, opened it--grabbed the doorframe, and muscled herself inside, shutting it behind her. The rolling was easier to handle once out of the wind--despite the sorry condition of her room, her table slid all the way back into her bed, chairs everywhere. She found the trapdoor in her floor, opened it, climbed down the ladder--it landed her in that hall between officer's rooms. A very wet and bedraggled Hellcat found her way into the center area, the table, the chairs, the galley, a little warmth as she dripped. Right. Captain. She's Captain. "We'll make it through," she pronounced. "I don't want anyone up there until the waves die down. This isn't enough to capsize us. We're runnin' bare but steady."
Alaine glanced up to Spade with a lazy grin; how long had the witch been standing there? And where the 'ell had that Miya gone? Wasn't she supposed to be aiding in the preparation? Lithe fingers grabbed as many mugs as they could manage, which was an impressive eight, though pinky fingers did struggle a bit. Hurried steps led her to the first lads that caught her eye, eagerly handing over the drinks and scurrying off to the makeshift-bar to mix more. This process was repeated about a dozen times, having to fetch more liquor once all the unknown crew mates had been served, who all were sipping -- some gulping -- away at the drinks happily and eagerly. Jack, who had just been noticed by the artificer, was given a quick wink with his drink, Fletcher and Terra quickly followed by the player of heart-strings. All had been served besides herself, the men (and woman) still bearing the storm's thrashings, and Lita, whom the fox gladly made her way over to with drink in hand. "Doll-face." Ace was given a lengthy smile before attention was grabbed by the gentle 'thuds' of Red and Hanan's entrance; they had made it, all except… Brows furrowed slightly in remembrance of the last face still up top, biting her lip as Finn and Hanan were both handed drinks.
Kirikae 's grip on the ropes that bound the supplies only tightened as the ship lurched again. His knuckles, slick with rainwater and sweat paled to a near white with the force he used to keep his hold. Still, the grin did not vanish, nor lessen in the slightest for the Runner's words. "Fondest words Ah ever 'eard a'fore testin' ther' Lady's favor," he called after Red's quickly departing form. One hand did release its grip, if only to take hold of the drenched bandana from his head and use it in an exaggerated wave. "Ah feel ther' tears a'comin', mate!" Those words likely lost to the storm, as he watched the rogue disappear into the entryway. Stowing that beloved red fabric away in the sopping shadows of his duster, Kae braced himself in preparation for his own journey across the perilously slick deck. In but a breath, with a single glance toward the captain as she made her way, the blonde Halfling was off. There was a moment in that staggering run when his feet where almost stolen beneath him and balance lost. Half-blood heritage might have saved him, given how quickly he recovered and shoved off. Soon he too had dropped into level below, left to recline against the stairs as he dragged breath back into his lungs. He'd enough air in him to let out a final, 'hah', as he replaced his bandanna back upon his head. He'd peel his hair from his face too, at some point.
Will has been laying in his hammock for most of the trip, strumming that mandolin of his while the captain battled with the storm outside with a fierce determination. Perhaps they couldn't feel it, but slowly, ever so slowly, Will has been weaving a tune that is aimed to raise spirits, fuel determination and establish a sense of calm amongst the chaos of the current happenings. As he does this, almost absent mindedly, does he stare off at the far wall, his mind on yesterday, her scent stil lingering upon him yet fading with every passing moment. Once again does a smile find a firm hold upon his handsome visage, as he sways back and forth as the wave toss the ship about.
Alaine spun at the sound of another thump, followed by a quick chuckle of triumph. Sterling gaze lit upon catching sight of the agile halfling sliding in to safety, letting out a sigh in relief; he had made it. Clonking steps carried her over to his drenched form, a grin carelessly planted 'pon smooth lips just as he fixed bandana on its proper perch and she held out a drink in offering. "Guess we're all here, then."
Hanan took the offered drink, gave Alaine a waterlogged smile in response as she lifted it to her lips. "Thanks... my men need this." Yeah, they would, what with their ship being buffeted back and forth and they not being able to do much about it save sit down here and grumble. Was that a lute? Was that a ruttin' lute? Her eyes narrowed, the deck pitched and bitched beneath her as steady sea legs carried her to the door to the crewmen's berthing despite her limp, she throwing it open and fixing the Jack of Hearts with a glower. "You, quit performin'. Can't you see we're in a storm? Some of my men have later watches, have to share berthin' with you... might be trying to get what sleep they can. You're makin' it harder. Stop." The good captain, it appeared, was immune to such bardery. Hanan changes lute to mandolin
Will simply tosses his instrument aside, and ceases in his attempts to aid the captain's crew in any way. He now just sits there and waits.
Kirikae kept his crooked grin in place. The offered drink was accepted, and tilted upward toward the artificer in the same manner of salute the louts that haunted the Barrel gave the mermaid. Over the rim of his cup, the grin faded, and the captain pushed himself somewhat unsteadily into a rocking stand. Best not to block the stairwell, in case some other crewmember came hopping down the entryway.
Alaine watched the halfling slip from the stairwell, furrowing fine brows and looking up to the hatched-door. Best she moved too; wouldn't want to be at the bottom of a dog pile with a bunch of frantic sailor boys. Artificer quickly stepped to the side-wall, bare fingertips pressed 'gainst its wooden planks in reassurance as gaze shifted from Kae to Lita, then back to the halfling, crew members beginning to warm and chatter, making the grim situation in the lower-level seem less-daunting and a threat to their very lives. They would all be down here a while; might as well enjoy it.
Lita smiled at the sight of the Fox. Thank the gods for her presence 'pon such a forsaken vessel. Not that she wished the ship any harm, mind you. She was just sour. She took the offered drink in hand, her other hand holding a blanket tight about her shoulders. She sniffed the contents of the drink and wrinkled her nose, handing the drink off to the lad closest to her. He muttered a thanks and she only nodded as Alaine slipped away to check on others. Hanan was offered a nod of greeting, a bedraggled Kirikae the same. She'd never met the man, but she knew enough to raise a brow at sight of the Fox's sudden elation at the man's presence. Interesting, for sure. Music from the other room was not missed by astute hearing, the flicker of her gaze following The Cap'n into the crew's quarters. She sighed under breath. Was it still too late to crawl back into bed and forget where she was?
Finn would be the last to take offered beverage, though it might not be a stretch to think that he’d be the first to toss it back. Hell. He knew there was a reason he stuck to running on land. A swift glance around the galley to ascertain that all were accounted for and a frown furrowed his brow. Terra was not I the assembled gathering. Was she all right? It was entirely possible that she had headed back to their cabin, but he’d not rest easy until he was sure she was fine. A hasty, two fingered salute was offered the captains both, and the runner would slip out into the darkened hallway beyond. With the bustle of activity going on within, it might not be impossible that no one noticed when neither he nor the sparrow returned for the remainder of the eve.
Hanan huffed lightly in Jack's direction, once he set the mandolin aside. That expression irked her. She lifted Aliane's concoction to her lips, took a good gulp. "Didn't say you couldn't play it out here, with those of us that are awake, y'damn baby. Just said you couldn't in there." She pivotted and returned to the group, grabbing the edge of the table for support--she wasn't a sea goddess--and clapping her first mate on the shoulder. Red got a nod as he disappeared, Lita a knowing grin. "We've got buckets."
Lita gave the Cap'n a knowing smile and a nod, knowing she was the butt of some privy joke. "Yeah?" she managed a surprised reaction in playful jest, before adding on, "Me too." and nodding over her shoulder to the little room behind her.
Hanan snickered, simply. "Yeah. We put 'em all over. Knew you were coming aboard, figured it's better that than the mop.."
Kirikae would have liked for his evening to end with him getting drunk enough to sleep through the rocking of the ship; next day be damned. Of course, that hardly seemed like a wise choice of action. Ah well. He still had that bottle of rum stashed away.. somewhere. He grunted, tipping the Runner a salute as he slipped out of the room. Lita was eyed a moment, any sign of greetings directed toward her swallowed back in a long draw from his drink. He emptied it, setting the empty cup upon the table as he worked his way around those gathered. "Mind yer dun fall," words likely spoken to anyone, and laced with faint humor. The captain rolled his shoulders in a shrug and spared a second, rough salute Alaine's way before he made his way to his quarters without a word more.
Domastine fell from the overturned rowboat with very ungraceful thud, a wet and dripping pile in the darkness provided by the small craft. He had lost track of the time spent clutching onto dear life. While the ship was simply tossed around during the previously turbulent weather, the poor rowboat had been shaken and beaten on its ties. Whereas his original cothing might have been a deathtrap for pneumonia from the sheer amount of water that had crashed upon his body, the skin tight swimming costume had protected him well. With the weather slightly more calm and most below deck, he dared to crawl out of the shadows. A wet trail was made from the rowboat to the hatch that led to the first deck beneath, slowly tapering off as the remaining moisture that clung to his outfit rolled off. Damp boots made feeble squishing sounds as they descended down a small staircase. Relative silence in the galley greeted him, a creak here and there as the ship could still be felt moving over rolling currents. Keeping to the darkest corner of a warmer and much more dry environment, his cloak gently faded his figure from view.
Lita was much too tempted to stay here, in this place. It was not, she reminded herself, a safe place. As much as she had come to love Alaine, she was not safe. No on was. No place was. A finger to Alaine's chin would lift her face so she could catch that sterling gaze in her own. And she smiled softly before crossing her eyes and holding her breath to puff out her cheeks, hands moving to tug her ears outward away from her head. She was making a funny face to relieve her own tension more so than Alaine's. She exhaled at last, letting her face turn normal again, still smiling softly. "When I was still a girl, I lived on a farm..." She gathered Alaine into her lap, reaching for her hands, lacing their fingers together and squeezing her hands reassuringly. If the woman didn't want to think, she could understand that. She'd let her dream instead. She leaned her head back against the wall, though her eyes still hadn't left the woman's face. "On the edge of our property there was an old well." She let her gaze drift from the woman to the opposite wall beyond, across the room. But she was no longer there. "He told me once that in the bottom of the well lived a funny-colored fish... When I asked what a funny-color looked like, he told me that it was all the colors I could ever imagine, all swirled together. I asked him if he meant the ugly colors too, and he said yup- just like that." She paused, a slow smile etching its way across her features. "It didn't take long to decide that I wanted to catch the funny-colored fish. But it took me almost a year to find courage enough to climb down to the bottom of the well. Oh, there was no water in it, mind you. It had dried up long before we'd moved onto the land. Instead, there was just... nothing..." She shrugged slightly. "So I climbed back up and marched right up to him and demanded to know the truth about this funny-colored fish. He said, 'What does the funny-colored fish look like in your head'? And I thought, and I thought, and I thought... But I couldn't fathom, try as I might, what all the colors mashed together would look like. And he just smiled, knowing just what I was thinking, and he said, 'You will never forget the funny-colored fish, whether it exists or not. It will be a part of you because you want it to be. Just like it has been real, all this long year past, because you have wanted it to be. Everything you are is what you choose. Everything you do is what you choose.'" Her voice had drifted to a lazy whisper near the end. When her eyes would come to focus on Alaine again, she couldn't quite remember what she'd just been talking about or where she'd been in her head. But somewhere, in the back of her mind where her demons hid, colors were moving in tandem.
Alaine remained still during the story's progress, visage slowly softening and sterling gaze gaining its familiar shimmer. Though the story was long and had no real connection to her situation to an outside listener, the elf nodded slowly in comprehension. Whether she caught the intended meaning by the witch or simply construed her own, she seemed to be soothed either way. A smile delicately graced silken lips as the witch's fingers were given a gentle squeeze and eyes offered an appreciative glance. "Thank you, Lita…" The fox couldn't begin to comprehend how much Spade had grown to mean; people like them couldn't afford to love or trust, but it was happening, no matter the confusion that came with it. Slender form began to shift, though froze abruptly just as legs were beginning to outstretch toward the floor. Ace was paid a thoughtful glance, brows furrowing just slightly before the elf threw lithe arms around the witch's neck, warmth pouring from her chest in the embrace. It was lengthy, but not awkward; it felt the proper payment, and recognition of the feelings and trust they would otherwise keep hidden. With a final smile offered to the woman in farewell, Alaine briskly made her way to the exit of the small room, which didn't take long. Door was shut in near-silence, artificer scanning the main-room and taking in the sights of several sleeping bodies, some flat on their faces passed out, before she slipped into an unoccupied room all her own. She didn't much mind if this room was assigned to her or not; its owner was probably kissing the hardwood of the galley anyway. Leather duster was removed, boots stepped out of and daggers set to rest along with goggles pulled from choppy locks before the artificer crawled into the offer bed with ease. Even with one room between herself and her elven-lover currently occupying the barracks with the crew, the distance between herself and Fletcher never felt more vast.
Lita wasn't completely sure what had just happened, but all too quickly, Alaine was gone and she was left once again to huddle to herself. She gave a pout and wanted to kick the door closed in the shroud of silence. The bed was warm- why should she have to get up to shut a door? Shyte. She half stumbled out of the bed, head swimming, still a bit nauseated just by the thought that land was much too far away. She lifted a hand to the edge of the door, about to lock out the world, when she remembered the bard had been sitting at the table, talking to the Cap'n when last she saw him. She looked out then, and sure enough, there he sat, pouting away the night. It was almost a comfort. She offered him a sudden smile and made her way to the table, taking the seat across from him. She didn't say anything, just watched him closely.
Domastine held both gloved hands tented together before his stark white mask, drawing warmth from his core to ease the chill he still felt in his bones. Silent and focused, his ears began to faintly pick up on his surroundings. Grunts and coughs could be heard from a few of the rooms, men likely tossing and finding a comfortable position atop hammocks or hard floors covered only by a rag long enough to be considered a sheet. Perhaps he could even imagine the skittering of rats or some other small creatures in the lowest hold of the ship. As his eyes closed behind his mask, sparse feminine murmurs were eventually picked up as if whispers in the wind. There were some still awake, though of what they spoke of, he could not tell at all. The whispers suddenly stopped for what seemed several long minutes. At first he simply concluded that space had been rather limited and the women were assigned to bunk mates. The thought was cast away as the slow creak of a wooden door resounded like a short ghostly moan, followed by gentle footfalls. Daring to crane his head towards the sound, the shrouded figure would not admit his surprise even to himself at seeing the elven woman he had followed through Rynvale to this ship. Against better judgment, his own boots shifted to weave his way amidst the fallen and slumbering crew that littered the galley's floor. The brim of his hood was tucked closely around his mask as was the cloak itself drawn tightly to his person. Just a shimmer even to the most focused of eyes stepped to door, opened with an arduously slow speed that Alaine might just well believe that the door's material had swelled enough from humidity as to pry itself open anew. In the gap provided, the spectre silently made his way to a corner opposite the door.
Will lifted his head as Ace made her way from the room, noting to himself that the rose was not tucked behind an ear, as was the usual way. But, he figured it was better, as it could have drawn obvious intent from the crew. Still examining her with one cerulean optic, Will would simply return the smile, as all those around them slept, giving them a little while alone, in an a odd sense. He was thankful for it though, as he longed for her. Even with her sitting across from him, he wanted her closer, but knew they could not risk it. truth be told Red needed no prompting to get his Jack to come along, as soon as he moved his Ace into place. Funny as it was, Will knew Finn tried to use Lita to ensnare him into service, and while he original plan did not work, it did come into fruitition in some ways. Perhaps working even better than previously thought. This caused a wild thought to run across the bard's mind, as he was still new to all this, these people, this crew. How far would they all go to weave a web of deciet? Did it matter to him anyways? He was lost in her at the moment, and was glad to be. Again that smile found its dominance over his lips, and the bard suddenly felt a tad bit warmer with her across from him.
Alaine had just crawled under the warmth of the comforters before the door to her room creaked open, which was met with a sigh from the artificer. If it was anyone but Lita, the elf wouldn't be pleased. With disgruntled expression, Fox made her way to the door, peering out the small opening, though brows quickly furrowed at the perplexing sight -- no one there. With a delicate hum of confusion, door again found itself swung on its hinges, firmly latching to a shut this time around; if it did occur simply because of humidity or the swaying of the boat, the chance-opening wouldn't happen again. Slender form again found itself tucked 'neath the covers, back pressed to the wall in comfort as body faced the room, slowly closing her eyes and still keeping guard.
Lita shifted in her seat. She wasn't sure what to say. Idle fingers tucked a stray curl behind her ear as she glanced about at all the sleepind crew, searching for something that wasn't there. When she'd finally return her gaze to the bard, she's sigh softly, shoulders hunched slightly in surrender. She nodded once over her shoulder, towards the little room she'd just left. Mostly, she knew there were blankets there waiting for her return and she was worried a semi-sleepy person would steal her bed. She didn't wait for word from the bard, just drew to her feet and turned slowly, slow steps finding her back under the covers soon enough.
Will casts a weary gaze across the various sleeping crew, and then, with as much care as he can muster, he follows Lita into the room, shutting the door quitly behind them..
Domastine made no sound as she bolted up to examine her door, keeping deathly still despite the ineherent sense of dread as an iron latch snapped shut. It was obvious that the woman intended to sleep, and he was trapped in her room. The door would not open again without her permission. Resigning himself to his fate, he lowered himself to a more comfortable crouch and his back pinned to the wall. There was little chance of discovery unless Alaine just so happened to need to physically stand in the corner her occupied for some reason or another. Beneath the enveloping shroud of his enchanted cloak, his gloved hands gently came up to where a mouth would be on his mask. Both hands cupped each other tightly and a soft whistle came from his hidden lips to blow into his hands. His fingers slowly began to rise and fall as if playing to the sound. The same magic that altered his voice likewise alter his whistle. Almost inaudible, a tender tune that would normally be produced only by a wind instrument began to fill the small room. For the elf, it would only just begin to tease at her hearing, just as easily have been a figment of her imagination. Perhaps it was the memory of a melody she had once heard, now replaying for her in the apparent silence of her room. It was both something to occupy himself with until his own weariness would demand sleep as well as an unspoken apology to the artificer for their encounter in the foundry.
Alaine wasn't a fool. She was sharp, with an methodical mind and keen senses to provide the information, so the elf soon grunted in response to the whistling. Something was there, and she had known it, she just hadn't pegged the identity of the haunting spirit until just this very moment. "Mask…" Voice was soft, almost teasing as she called out to the man, unsure of the current preciseness of his location in her temporary-dwelling, but eyes remained veiled by soft-lavender lids anyway. If he had chosen to reveal his form, she wouldn't see it. She preferred to… 'remain in the dark', at least for the initial part of their encounter. "Didn't you get your fill of me this morning?" Psyche ran back to several hours prior, remembering every last detail -- his body frozen across from hers, the gentle coo of his calming voice, the feel of his arm wrapped about her back in delicate restraint… A subtle rosy tint would have surfaced to grace cheekbones had the artificer not warded it off, being hesitant in not revealing the mild-weakness toward the memory.
Domastine was surprised, though his own musical discipline did not allow the melody to break. Though it was set to conclude, it was done so with a natural fading, at last ending with a softspoken if otherwise emotionless, "Yes," in the darkness to answer her initial call to him. He did not reveal himself, but if she were sharp enough to discern an actual sound from her imagination, she might just well tell which particular shadowed corner he was in. When she teasingly accused him of his business aboard the ship, there came no immediate answer. It was a compromising situation. He had become trapped in her room and had been found out by the same woman. "No," he answered at last, assuring himself that he meant it in the most professional of manners. She was an intelligent woman with unique skills that peaked his sincere interests in her line of work.
Alaine would, in response, blush to the unexpected deny in reply from the shadowed figure, wherever it may be. Sterling hues opened now, glistening as they scanned over the surroundings and squinting at a particular corner that had previously caught her ear's attention. Was--… Was that him?" Lithe digits pulled at the covers, allowing them to nestle in the curve of her neck as she continued the peculiarly-casual conversation the two found themselves in. Shouldn't it have been awkward? He was in her room, late at night, hiding in the shadows, on a ship with nothing but seas surrounding them for miles; somehow after all this, the artificer still didn't feel awkward or find the conversation to be strained. He was intriguing, and held the life-style she used to call her own not too long ago.
Domastine watched with unseen olive hued eyes as her own eyes revealed themselves to look towards his hiding place. Though he knew himself to still be quite invisible to her, he denied her his actual presence no longer. A step was taken and his cloak drawn back slightly by exposed gloved hands. He stood just in the blurred border between the light and darkness of her room. White mask facing her, the voice came again, "I apologize for intruding in your quarters." No reason as to why he chose her room to sneak into was given. Even with the hauntingly soulless mask, the spectre oddly expressed sincere honesty in his statement. In such low lighting, his body was more defined. Whereas he wore more loose clothing in their encounter beneath the shop to give a more spectral appearance, the figure currently before her wore more close fitting garments that seemed almost sleek to the touch by sight alone.
Alaine slowly took in his presence; he wasn't revealing much, majority of sleek form still hidden in the shadows, but the subtle curve of ivory veiling his face was captured, the gloves seen in adjusting silver gaze, and even the gentle sheen of his fitted water-suit was detectable amidst the darkness. Slender form rose, abdominal muscles utilized as the elf lazily sat up, blankets falling from her chest to reveal the black bodice keeping a tight hold of lithe frame; it wasn't often one might see the elf without beloved leather duster adorning her shoulders, nor goggles that now lay to rest 'pon the nightstand. "Look, mask." Silver hues scanned the room once more before fixing 'pon the barely-visible assassin, or whatever this curious man was. "I want some answers. You owe me at least that… Why are you here? You found my foundry, and now even…" Glistening smile was revealed in a disbelieving chuckle, slender digits running through windswept locks before finishing the claim, "Now you're here, in my room, in the middle of the ocean."
Domastine gave a single nod, as his head was now visible for the silent answer to be given. His presence definitely required answers, if not only because of their repeated encounters. Twice they met under rather awkward circumstances. "I am here to gather information on your employer," he said quietly. A step forward was taken from the shadows to emphasis his intent to not leave anything in the darkness, literally. "I apologize, but I used you to track down the ship that would reach, what I believe one of his smuggling bases," came the blunt admission of her use to him. "I am here in your room because I believe I would be safest hiding here, because even if I were to be discovered by you, we are not complete strangers. You also know that no harm will come to you by me." Exposing his hands and arms outwardly in a display of vunerability to her, he said while intently looking at her face, "Here I am in your room, and at your mercy."
Alaine furrowed ebon brows, breaking the eye contact as head swung down to stare at the comforter. So that's why, and the fox was foolish enough to lead him right to them… You would think a former-assassin would know better. Sterling hues suddenly turned hard, chilling as she looked to the intruder under a firm brow line, "What do you want with Finn? Planning on stealing?" Despite his subtle retreat, the elf still remained fiery, voice stern with the demand for answers. "You're the one that's been damaging our boast, scaring our crew. It wasn't smart of you to follow," especially not to find shelter with a fox that was overprotective of her crew.
Domastine offered no indication of being taken aback by her rising emotion against his actions. "Planning on finding out what it is he brings onto the island, and if necessary, stopping him." A palm rose, picking upon the tinges of possessiveness or protectiveness that tainted her voice, "I will not kill him. I do not kill unless absolutely necessary, as the captain of the ship near the shop can confirm. I could have killed the crew onboard with him. I could have kill him, but instead only left three with bloody noses and one with a bruise to his stomach at most. As for the ship, I needed a distraction in order to escape. A small tear in the sail and a few boards pried off the cabin's wall are not significant." He gave no mention of this particular ship's lack of a figurehead. That incident had been a selfish stunt done when he was still simply running around in a ragged cloak and his wits alone, and it was no counted towards the blame upon his masked persona. There was also no evidence to even begin to speculate who stole the figurehead in the first place.
Alaine kept gaze 'pon the stranger that was quickly becoming regarded as such less and less. The visible softening of fair visage would most likely be caught, brows slowly uncreasing and sterling irises slowly melting to the molten pools they once were. "Oh…" They were not in any true danger; this stranger didn't pose a threat. Again, she turned from him, finding comfort as form leaned 'pon the wooden planks lining the cabin wall. She was at a loss of words, not entirely certain what to say or do around the gifted stealth. "I misjudged you."
Domastine bore a relieved expression behind his mask as his eyes always kept focused on her own, along with a sense of concern for her own seeming loss of previously sharp mind and tongue. He would have dreaded needing to silence her from revealing his presence to the rest of the crew. "Understandable. I did mean to frighten your crew, his crew. Fear is preferable to death, is it not?" Another slow step was taken when she turned from him, now standing beside the bed with his own back against the wall so that he may focus on the still latched door. No silence was allowed to grow this time as he asked question that could only lead to more of her own, "Is there anything else you wish to know?"
Alaine shook her head, keeping silent, though eyes did stare at the back now facing her. This man was so peculiar; the artificer had never come across an assassin quite like him. Eyes took on a new spark, form slightly shifting in the blankets as hand reached out to gently rest 'pon the sleek suit stretched over his elbow. "I do have a question…" Once his attention had been pulled from the door, fine brows would again furrow, thinking back to the early hours of that very morning with a delicate blush gracing her cheeks, "I know you're just following me to get information…" Tone shifted, jaw clenching just slightly as gaze fell from his shoulders to the edge of the bed, "But… You're really going to sleep here?"
Domastine needed every ounce of restraint to not jerk his head towards her at surprise to feel the warmth of her palm through his suit however briefly the contact was. His white mask turned to look towards her, a slight tilt of his head. Somehow it softened the usual impression of an intimidating stare that his enchanted mask usually gave. "I was following you for information," he affirmed with an emphasis to the use of past tense. Immediately after the spectre added as his head turned back to the door, "Now, I am enjoying the company." Her tensing face was lost on him as his eyes were averted but the faint apprehension in her voice was as clear as her accusing tone earlier. Again the expressionless figure turned his head, first directly to the bed she was upon, "No." He had no intentions of being so bold as to insinuate occupying her bed. "I would like to remain in this room, however, if you will allow me." The floor or a corner would suit his rest just fine.
Alaine would nod to his statements, though body twitched just slightly to the abrupt 'no'. What was she doing? He was a stranger, unknown and dangerous; even toying with the idea of sharing a bed was absurd. Still… "Make yourself comfortable." The elf shrugged nonchalantly, ruffling choppy locks before laying back down, pulling the covers up to her neck, and rolling over to face the wall. Ears were kept alert as sterling gaze idly took in the swirling grains of oaken boards, carefully listening for any signs of movement on his part. Psyche roamed during its observation, curious if he would in fact be daring or simply settle for the damp, cold, and dense floorboards. She had been in much more peculiar situations, always managing to find an occupation in any odd occurrence. This would be a thin thread woven into the quilt of a lifelong history of awkward situations, though it was hardly viewed as such; something seemed so natural, the interaction between the two coming with ease. Perhaps it stemmed from her former lifestyle? The elf was still contemplating the answer...
Domastine was indebted to her, and it was only one more intriguing thing about her that spiked his interest. She could easily called for aid at any moment to expose him, or simply have denied him her quarters. "Thank you," came the answer from the spectre. His feet were heard making not a sound, instead only a sliding shuffle of his body lowering. A concession had been made. The floor for his body, but the edge of the bed offered at least some measure of comfort for his side as well as for his head if it were to suddenly shift to the side in his sleep. Clear doubts entered his mind as to whether sleep would come to him. So far, only the laying elf in the bed beside him occupied his mind. He had admitted his intents to her, twice, and still she somehow defied his own logic and neither condemned him to the fate at the hands of her fellow rogues nor refused her quarters to him after he had intruded. "Pleasant dreams," he said softly, his mask still focused on the latched door. Whether eyes would close behind it or not, the mask remained staring at the wooden door.